I was one who liked to work with my hands as well as my brain.
quote by William Standish Knowles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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50%
Honestly, ma'am,
I must say that I despise work,
For I put only 50% into it,
And I know that is mediocrity for you,
But that is my full effort to me.
Now, I cannot stand working
Behind a cubicle,
With people telling me what to do,
For I hate being bossed around,
And it is so boring in here.
I would rather work in a place
Where I could work with my hands
Or use my brain to do something creative
And innovative unlike
All of the paperwork we do here,
But since the work is so boring here,
I cannot help but give my 50%,
And I know it is half of
What you want from me,
But I rest my case.
Good day, ma'am.
poem by James Roberts
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To One Who Bade Him Work
EACH day Work bids my heart anew,
Fold wings and watch my brain at play;
But brain and heart will fly your way,
And find their natural home in you!
Come to me--'tis the only way!
For heart and brain have had to learn
Such carrier-pigeon feats of flight,
That were you here, my heart's delight,
My brain and heart to Work would turn,
Spread wings, and flutter from your sight.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Lost in the Cycle
Work work work work, work work work work, work work work work
STOP
and
do
nothing
'cause there is nothing to do
even though there is always something to do
but why would you do that?
Stay up
No sleep
Go to sleep
Peace
Except not
Because the brain still says 'Go! '
When you say
'No!
Rest! '
No Rest
Come back to consciousness?
You never left,
did you?
Begin repeat
poem by Jessica Cummings
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My heart is my hands
My hands
Is
Only my hands...
Not for
your hands....
So...
I want too work
My hands...
I want too serve
My hands...
I want to do about
Somthing of my
Hands...
My hands is
Free for only
Sleeping time only...
my hands is
working all the times
My hands not only
Hands...
It is human workers...
Allways for my friends...
My hands...is my heart...
My heart is my hands.....
Ok...How is your hands...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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When I draw something, the brain and the hands work together.
quote by Tadao Ando
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bad Brain
I used to be an A student
I never used to complain
I used to be a truant
But I'm still the same
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain
I used to go to parties
I used to drink champagne
Now I'm beginning to feel the strain
Bad bad brain
I used to be in show biz
I used to have fortune and fame
I used to have pleasure and pain
I used to have a name
Bad bad brain
Now I'm on the Bowery
I can't remember my name
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain...bad bad brain...
song performed by by Ramones from Road To Ruin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Stalemate
I do not give thanks to the hands that feed me
I work for those
Hands anyway
Writing his letters
His own contents
Not to my delight
I love somebody else, her hands are soft
Her thoughts so graceful
Touching me
Penetrating the deepest recesses of my brain
My soul jumps with joy
To the sight of her,
She eats me, I am half-consumed yet I
Sing of her
Kiss her all day
Yet what does she give me?
This death unto myself,
The hands that feed me caress me to no end
Helping me live, I understand this kindness perfectly
How I wish to love the feeding hands
How I wish to reeducate myself & learn to live on these hands
I am hardheaded, as always thinking about her all day all night long.
The heart has its own foolish reasons, while the feeding hands
Are patient, and silent, understanding my true longings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A man who works with his hands is a laborer; a man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman; but a man who works with his hands and his brain and his heart is an artist.
quote by Louis Nizer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ages to Ages
Work was with pain those days
Work was with lot of pain but with less gain.
Work was with lot of pain and more strain
Even though work was with lot of pain and more strain, most of the things were in vein.
Now-a-days work is of less strain and no pain, But with lot of gain.
Now-a-days enormous work is replaced by effective and efficient work.
It is the day of harmony and glare.
Now-a-days there is lesser strain and lot of gain.
But one day will come when there won’t be to humans any pain and strain because every thing will be done using machine's brain then no one will take a chance to know, that they have a brain.
poem by Narendra Kuppan
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To work with the hands or brain, according to our requirements and our capacities, to do that which lies before us to do, is more honorable than rank and title.
quote by Albert Pike
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Young Poet In His 24th Year
Brain, work now as well as you can.
A one-sided passion is destroying him.
He's in a maddening situation.
Every day he kisses the face he worships,
his hands are on those exquisite limbs.
He's never loved before with this degree of passion.
But the beautiful fulfillment of love
is lacking, that fulfillment is lacking
which both of them must want with the same intensity.
(They aren't equally given to the abnormal form of sensual pleasure;
only he is completely possessed by it.)
And so he's wearing himself out, all on edge.
Then—to make things worse—he's out of work.
He manages somehow to borrow
a little here and there (sometimes
almost begging for it) and he just gets by.
He kisses those adored lips, excites himself
on that exquisite body—though he now feels
it only acquiesces. And then
he drinks and smokes, drinks and smokes;
and he drags himself to the cafés all day long,
drags the weariness consuming his beauty.
Brain, work now as well as you can.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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A free Park
that's the brain?
a stage set for the gods
to embark on their strategies
to be close to the soul and man
a free park nature roots itself
to grow in and out of us
that's the brain? nature's
handiwork, the weight
of its spirit and intelligence
at work, at work
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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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Maggies Farm
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more.
No, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I wake up in the morning
Fold my hands and pray for rain.
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin me insane
Its a shame
The way she makes me
Scrub the floor
I aint gonna work on, nah
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more.
I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
Nah, I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
Well, he hands you a nickel
And he hands you a dime
And he asks you with a grin
If youre havin a good time
Then he fines you every time you slam the door
I aint gonna work for, nah
I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
No, I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
Well, he puts his cigar
Out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window
It is made out of bricks
The national guard stands around his door
I aint gonna work, nah
I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
I aint gonna work for maggies ma no more
No, I aint gonna work for maggies ma no more
Well, she talks to all the servants
About man and God and law
And everybody says
Shes the brains behind pa
Shes sixty-eight, but she says shes twenty-four
I aint gonna work for, nah
I aint gonna work for maggies ma no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
No, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well I try my best
To be just like I am
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They sing while they slave and just get bored
I aint gonna work on, nah
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Trinity
the brain, mind and me
it has to be a trinity
three entities sailing
the cosmos trying
to outdo each other
the brain is generous
letting the mind wander
in and out while me - i -
try to work out the best deal
in the crowdy sojourn
the brain tinkles with
god's act of
predestination
sealed in tightly, foolproof
you think you are in control
yet in the end you have to
concur you are way out of hand -
one mystic takes you
by the head, one other
slips in and out
the brain keeps itself known
sometimes in touch
sometimes out,
sometimes even trying
to let you know
the pool of secrets
it holds over you
all nervous you could only wish
you are out of this bewildering
soul draining situation
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Maggies Farm
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more.
No, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more.
Well, I wake in the morning,
Fold my hands and pray for rain.
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin me insane.
Its a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more.
I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more.
No, I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more.
Well, he hands you a nickel,
He hands you a dime,
He asks you with a grin
If youre havin a good time,
Then he fines you every time you slam the door.
I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more.
I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more.
No, I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more.
Well, he puts his cigar
Out in your face just for kicks.
His bedroom window
It is made out of bricks.
The national guard stands around his door.
Ah, I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more.
I aint gonna work for maggies ma no more.
No, I aint gonna work for maggies ma no more.
Well, she talks to all the servants
About man and God and law.
Everybody says
Shes the brains behind pa.
Shes sixty-eight, but she says shes twenty-four.
I aint gonna work for maggies ma no more.
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more.
No, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more.
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am,
But everybody wants you
To be just like them.
They sing while you slave and I just get bored.
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Aint Gonna Work On Maggies Farm No More
(bob dylan)
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I wake up every morning
Hold my hands and pray for rain
Ive got a head full of ideas
Driving me insane
Its a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
He hands you a nickel
He hands you a dime
He asks you and your friends
If youre having a good time
He blames you every time you slam the door
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
He stubs his cigarette out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window is made out of bricks
And the national guard are standing at his door
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies mother no more
I aint gonna work for maggies mother no more
She talks to all the servants about man and God and law
And everybody swears shes the brains behind pa
Shes sixty-eight, but claims shes twenty-four
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I try so hard to be just who I am
But everybody wants you to be just like them
They say see, while youre playing I get bored ? ?
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A brain or brainless
A battle of brain is never won
it has weighted as heavy ton
it can't be wasted or simple gone
it is to be kept in mind or borne
A brainy child can shine from the beginning
it is long and powerful inning
There will be equal morning and evening
colorful life with bright shining
There is nothing to hide and seek
it is unpardonable weapon of the weak
A person has no power to speak
he can't ride a ladder and reach to the peak
Honey bees and butterflies too work very hard
it is job of brain to look always forward
what brainless can do other than to polish
he has nothing to as he is already finished
Everything has two sides to represent
no one can work if any thing is absent
sometimes people with brain create unruly scene
such abnormality is never observed or seen
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Why Time Flies
When times are boaring (BORING]
Then put the mind to work
Or better yet, ya bet
Hands & Mind, or Hands-Feet-Mind
All together - Work
Becoming a writer - or anything -
Put the mind to work, then go to work.
When relaxing - be at ease
Allow time to breath and breath deeply.
It's like someone said
'smell the roses before you're dead! '
Enjoy the 'Now' for what it is! ! ! !
Not what it should have been
Or what could have been.
And allow others to see things
Through their own eyes.
See How Time Flies?
poem by John E Laipple
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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
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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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