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The Man And The Robbers
A MAN HAD GONE TO HIS BANK AND WITHDREW A LARGE SUM OF MONEY, AND ON HIS WAY BACK, HE SUDDENLY HAPPENED UPON A CREW OF ROBBERS AND HE TURNED BACK AND RAN AWAY AS FAST AS HIS LEGS COULD RUN!
AS HE RAN AWAY, HE SUDDENLY RAN INTO A CREW OF NIGERIAN POLICEMEN! AND THE MAN WAS FLABBERGASTED, HE DIDN'T KNOW WHICH WAY TO RUN ANYMORE AND HE SUDDENLY TURNED BACK AND BEGAN TO RUN TOWARDS THE ROBBERS AND HE SHOUTED AS HE RAN, WAIT MR ROBBER! WAIT!
THE SURPRISED ROBBERS STOOD WHILE HE CAME TO THEM AND HUMBLY HANDED THE MONEY OVER TO THEM, AND ONE OF THEM ASKED, WHY DID YOU RETURN TO GIVE US THE MONEY WE WANTED TO ROB YOU OF? AND HE REPLIED, OH, AS I RAN AWAY FROM YOU, I RAN INTO A CREW OF NIGERIAN POLICEMEN! AND I DECIDED TO COME BACK AND GIVE YOU ROBBERS THE MONEY INSTEAD!
A CURIOUS ROBBER ASKED, WHY DID YOU PREFER TO GIVE US THE MONEY? AND THE MAN SAID, OH, WELL, YOU ROBBERS WOULD ROB ME AND LEAVE ME ALIVE, BUT THE NIGERIAN POLICEMEN WOULD ROB ME, THEN SHOOT ME DEAD AND TELL THE WORLD THAT I WAS THE ROBBER! STATED THE MAN TO THE ASTONISHED ROBBERS
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno

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Startled Are Those Robbers
Startled are those robbers,
That had came to thieve.
Quite startled are those robbers stunned,
Begging for a forgiveness on bended knees.
And the hiding places,
Where startled robbers had once hid...
Are blocked to stop an entry,
With cracks and crevices from them now sealed.
Startled are those robbers...
Finding no one wants to bother.
No one wants to bother with robbers...
Chased away and startled by the mobs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Treasure Of The Wise Man
O the night was dark and the night was late,
And the robbers came to rob him;
And they picked the locks of his palace-gate,
The robbers that came to rob him--
They picked the locks of his palace-gate,
Seized his jewels and gems of state,
His coffers of gold and his priceless plate,--
The robbers that came to rob him.
But loud laughed he in the morning red!--
For of what had the robbers robbed him?--
Ho! hidden safe, as he slept in bed,
When the robbers came to rob him,--
They robbed him not of a golden shred
Of the childish dreams in his wise old head--
'And they're welcome to all things else,' he said,
When the robbers came to rob him.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley

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Slipped Away
Good morning son
It's off to school you go
Mom's gone to work you know
Mom when are you coming home
There's a bank robbery that's going on
Ooh this very morn
Mom's gone to wrok for sure
Mom when are you coming home
Officers the bank is being held
By two gunmen that don't mean well
Mom's on the job can't you tell
Mom when are you coming home
Mom when are you coming home
To see your son
Daughter don't be a policeman
Please be a school teacher instead
You're so good with the children
Mom when are you coming home
Teacher please excuse these boys from class
Their mother gone from a gunshot blast
Another cop shot down on patrol
Mom when are you coming home
Mom when are you coming home
To see your son
The gangsters killed our mother dead
All is lost from our family
They tried to save our mom in vain
She drowned in blood and she was not saved
The bank is open and the robbers jailed
And mom won't be coming home
The way they run their world so wrong
How can us brothers get along
Mom when are you coming home
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Calling Cards
A sorting office in the old kent road
Caters from coast to most
A nice little number if youre out of work
And arent the sort to boast,
Youre in need of a job, bob-a-job, rob-a-job
Im your man to see
Ill sit Ill listen Ill not say a word
The less said would be best for we
Ooh, what a firm of naughty boys
Ooh, Ive been a naughty boy
We dont want to mark each others card
Except the one you need
I need you and your returns to help
Build my company.
My twins work brighton on a sunny day
They cover town with the shake of a hand
On a high come back coz of no come back
Now theyre working in the promised land.
Ooh, what a pair of naughty boys
Ooh, Ive been a naughty boy
(the allied irish cyprus bank)
(india bank bank of turkey)
(united bank the peoples bank)
(to catch the worm you got to be up early)
Temporarily out of bounds had to move office
Clear out of town
For every problem theres a solution and
I can do without constitution
Dealing cards from up the old kent road
Ive been checked up on my heavy load
You can go but be back soon
Ill have some work for you to groom.
Ooh, what a lot of naughty boys
Ooh, Ive been a naughty boy
(trustees bank, barclays bank)
(the natwest bank, midland bank)
(bank of scotland, williams and glyns)
(bureau de change, the peoples bank)
Ooh, what a lot of naughty boys
Ooh, what a pair of naughty boys
Ooh, what a firm of naughty boys
Ooh, Ive been a naughty boy
song performed by by Madness

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm a parent, especially when you've had the intense parenting the way I had. It's all in the bank. It's all in the great experience bank. Those are your secrets. That's the stuff that makes your work rich, that's what you dip into.
quote by Hector Elizondo

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robbers of time
What robbers rob can be recovered.
The time robbed cannot be retrieved.
Cell phones, televisions and computers
Are robbers that steal time all the time.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Bank Holiday
Grandma needs new dentures
To eat the crust on pizza
Been taken out by her daughter
Because she thought she oughta
The kids are eating Snickers
Because they're so delicious
Then there's sticky fingers
And mother loses her knickers
CHORUS:
Bank holiday comes six times a year
Days of enjoyment to which everyone cheers!
Bank holiday comes with a six pack of beer
Then it's back to work - A! G! A-I-N!
Barbecue is cooking
Sausages and chicken
The patio is buzzing
And neighbours they are looking
John is down the fun pub
Drinking lots of lager
Girls and boys are on the game
And all the high streets look the same
CHORUS
Back to work - A! G! A-I-N!
CHORUS
Bank holiday!
song performed by by Blur from Parklife

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My river bank
The water hit the bank
Like a wave upon a shore
Happiness just out of reach
Finding that is something you can’t teach
No one to talk to
No one to see
As you can tell just me
I sit alone on my river bank
No happy people passing by as I let out a gentle sigh
I realized I sit alone on my river bank
Unreal happiness in this unreal tournament they call life
I sit alone, isolated on my river bank
I shall always sit alone on my river bank
I will always be alone on this river bank
poem by EmOzEd johnston

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The History Of Tomorrow
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of light
By dumping us in the dark with pits everywhere
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of food
By asking us to chop several fire-woods to heat up a pot full of stones
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of job creation
By making us slaves on our own soil
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of education
By dumping us in dilapidated buildings without teachers
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of accountability
By looting our treasury and asking us for yet another term in office
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of safety
By leaving pot holes large enough to swallow countless accident victims on our roads
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our bows and arrows
Would secure our future
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless heroes
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless robbers
Robbers with fame
Robbers without shame
Robbers that we would roast with flame
© Adegbenro Adekunle Jacob
Tomorrow’s history is today. All world leaders must make real democracy work. They must be selfless. We must not wait until there is horror and terror before we learn. Nigerian leaders must shun CORRUPTION.
poem by Adegbenro Adekunle

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Quotations in my work are like wayside robbers who leap out armed and relieve the stroller of his conviction.
quote by Walter Benjamin

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony

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Two guys on the bus
Two guys talk on the bus
and are convinced that fifty rand for four,
very expensive
and plan a day
to take their collected change
with backpacks to the bank
and I wonder
if with bank charges
they will earn any interest
at the bank.
poem by Gert Strydom

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The Scam Continued
My bank account ha ha,
I think not
My identification photo
Again I say go play with a rubber duck or something
For I'm not the ignorant fool that your so use to.
Maybe I should make up a bank name, a number, a address, a send the a random photo of a friend.
And see what happens
For it might be entertaining to see them pretend to be someone who has never left the country and try to access a bank account that does not exist.
For they are going to do one thing that is clean out your bank out
As the man who gives everything shouts, I have been ripped off.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

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Bank Robber Man
I was walking down the street today
Just as somebody blew the doors off of the B of A
Just then I head them call my name
As I was thrown against the car
I was being framed
All units we've got our man
We've got the bank robber man
We don't need no reason
You're going in the can
You look like the bank robber man
I think you misunderstand
Do you think that I am the one that did it
Just because I'm tan?
Just then the officer at hand said
I don't give a damn that you are in a rock and roll band
All units we've got our man
We've got the bank robber man
We don't need no reason
You're going in the can
You look like the bank robber man
Just tell me what's going on ?
Can you tell me what I did wrong ?
Does busting me make you feel strong ?
Make you feel strong
All units we've got our man
We've got the bank robber man
We don't need no reason
You're going in the can
You look like the bank robber man
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Lenny

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robbers
Robbers are everywhere,
titled with honors.
They live like kings,
Action of them stings.
When they rob in millions,
as commissions,
actually they let others
to rob in billions.
Those who talk about justice,
corrupt free nations at their home,
bribe our politicians,
to rob from our poor nations.
What you preach can be practiced,
in double standard?
To let your own country to prosper,
why do you let us, the poor, to suffer?
The honorable robbers,
are our politicians,
who rob our peace,
our future and the sleep.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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A College Going Daughter's Prayer
Lord put money in my bank
And I shall call and earnestly thank
Ma who pestered Pa to bend
To her whims and bitterly end
The fight for money in my bank.....
Ma has told him it is less
What she calls the daughter's cess
For panties, knickers and monthly chum
Things so dear they hardly come
With the money in my bank........
My account should always overflow
And on my face there be a glow
I can then, dream to start
To fulfill the desires of my heart
With the money in my bank......
My sisters' told them I am down
With a viral that's profound
I am ill and need to eat
Medicines, cherries, grapes and sweets
With the money in my bank.....
Send me Lord some pleasing news
Of good money I can use
I shall end to feign and faint
Then douse the town in crimson paint
With the money in my bank
2003
poem by Ravinder Malhotra

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If there was a payment to the bank due, and we needed shoes, she'd get the shoes, and then deal with them guys at the bank. I don't mean she wouldn't pay the bank, but the children always came first.
quote by Larry Bird

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Payment
A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.
I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.
I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.
Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’
I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
O how I
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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