Work continuously to trim the White House staff from your first day to your last. All the pressures are to the contrary.
quote by Donald Rumsfeld
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Mr. Truman studiously avoided giving power to his White House staff that has been characteristic of recent administrations. Staff people in the White House, with no responsibility but incredible authority is one of the reasons we're now in so much trouble.
quote by Stuart Symington
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The mainstream media may have trouble resisting the temptation to declare that Karl Rove has been demoted, but the truth is quite the contrary. By giving up his role as deputy White House chief of staff, Rove has been freed to do what he does best: shape big issues and develop strategies to win elections.
quote by Fred Barnes
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The house has to please everyone, contrary to the work of art which does not. The work is a private matter for the artist. The house is not.
quote by Adolf Loos
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The pressures, I don't really like to think about the pressures, I like to solve them, you know what I mean. I could sit here and complain about pressures but nobody wants to hear about pressures.
quote by Rick Danko
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O The Pressures Of School
O the pressures of school
It is so heavy I feel like a mule
Slave everyday
I do not want to stay
O the pressures of school
The teachers know everything
And we know nothing
Choosing is not a choice
We are taught to be successful from people who are not
Just wish to be and wish us to be
But they know most of us will fail
Because we will bail
And live in jail
So we can tell our tale
Of how badly we wanted to prevail
But the pressures of school were too great
I don’t think they remember what its like to be in high school
Don’t they remember the pressures from their teachers to be better?
From there students to do drugs and smoke?
To choose to do shit that makes pressures go away but bring some different pressures?
At least we have a choice to do that shit
I think that’s where kids get caught
Choice, freedom, rebel…
Sweet sounds for a teenager worth the price
We hold the dice when it comes to these decisions
Finally we can control something
We are our own bosses
Yes we may loose
But lucky seven
Will take us to heaven
It is not easy finishing school
We are also just starting our complicated lives
Yes we need some guidance
But we don’t need to be on a choke hold
We don’t want to do what we’re told
We have pressures from society
From our family
From the academy
Hell we even have pressures from the TV!
Yet they still don’t see the large burden they put on our shoulders
They think, ‘what can some more pressure do?
Besides this pressure is good for you.’
All I want to do is write poetry
It is my drug
So I don’t have the pressures of taking drugs
It is my addiction
So I don’t need any smokes
It is in my family
So I don’t need pressures from my family
It is even my TV
So I don’t need a TV
So I can tell myself how I am supposed to look and how I am supposed to live my life
It is all I want from school
I know my English and I know how I feel
So I don’t need the pressures of school
All you need to be a poet
Is to turn your feelings into words
You don’t have to be successful
As long as it feeds you’re own pressures rather than the pressures of society
Yet O the pressures of school are so great
I cannot escape
Until their pressures are obliterate
poem by Fidelis Patronus
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Pot-bellied brothers
Neithe of us have no reason
To treason though imprisoned.
Yes! Incarcerated in our house
By Pot-bellied brothers in white rooms,
Sleeping on two pillows - one's ours.
All 'cause we're penurious citizens;
we, penn'orth per day can afford.
We're 'morrow's heroes
But - hahahaha!
'Tomorrow's zeroes..., ' they said.
That inflamed the blief of cynics;
'They're intensifying their Agbada pockets
From the house's treasury...'
Retribution of anarchy may befall us
If Pot-bellied brothers
Continuously dominate our house;
'They will make it an eccentric dregs! '
Ask not why in free verse -
The house is under democracy.
poem by Barnabas Markus Atsen
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Astonishing Forest
Where the house filled with living
The house continuously giving
Where the house filled with nature
The house filled with adventure
Anything can survive
With the nature it provides
Where the house filled with grass
The house filled with hedges, bushes and plants
Canopy trees be it rain or shine
Will be there for you at any time
Where the green house filled with fresh air
Will shelter you in the heavy rain
O the house of beauty
O the house of sound
So much variety is yet to be found
poem by Sehar Zaman
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You couldn't even prove the White House staff sane beyond a reasonable doubt.
quote by Ed Meese
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What this White House really needs is a chief of staff who can read Machiavelli in the original Italian.
quote by Mack McLarty
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Perhaps He's Not Been Well Of Late
The Chief of staff in the White House on his war drum is beating
Perhaps he's not been well of late and his brains are over heating
For he talks of war and only war and he is brewing for trouble
And his bombers will reduce Baghdad to one big heap of rubble.
In his State of the Union address he talked of war with an angry facial expression
And the removal of Iraqi dictator Saddam from power with him
is an obsession
Wisdom comes with age to most apply but not to this Texan fellow
And just like the very dangerous bull be wary when he bellow
Some men in positions of power for to handle power not able
He and his right hand men only talk of war as they sit around the table
The table in the White House where decisions are made and where dreams of peace are torn asunder
For only death and tears and pain from the guns of war men thunder.
They tell the people of Iraq that they are doing them a big favour
But the majority of the Iraqi people do not see them as their saviour
From Saddam's autocratic regime who they loathe as oppressive
But they fear the to be invaders more as more dangerous and aggressive.
The Chief of Staff in the White House on his war drum is beating
Perhaps he's not been well of late and his brains are over-heating
For he can only talk of war and fear of terror he is spreading
And the fighter planes are set to go and the troops to war are heading.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Old Town Types No. 4 - Our Mr. Trim
Mr Trim, commercial traveller, is in town again,
'Our Mr Trim,' you know, debonair and neat;
Landed here this morning on the ten-thirty train;
Can't you hear him laughing there, half down the street?
A bland man, a breezy man, a man to take the eye;
With his trolly load of sample tins, his big leather bags.
Men say he's popular; ladies say, 'Oo, my!'
John George Augustus Trim, traveller in bags.
Mr Trim, the traveller, oh, very well-dressed,
Very much the lah-de-dah; handsome, too, at that;
Flowing, braided frock-coat (material the best)
Pantaloons of shepherd's plaid, tall shiny hat;
Curly set of 'sideboards,' big silk moustache,
Diamond on finger and a rolling eye of brown.
'Oo, such a one!' the ladies say. 'Such a shameless mash,'
And hearts are all a-flutter when our Mr Trim's in town.
Mr Trim, the traveller, drinking with the boys,
'Heard the latest yarn, lads? Got it at the club.'
'He's such a card, that Mr trim! Listen to that noise!
Such a fav-rite with the fellers,' says the lady at the pub.
Mr Trim, with customers, 'putting out a line,'
Feeding them with flattery, indulging every whim.
'Oh, better say two dozen. Shall I book it for you? Fine . . .'
A useful fellow,' says The Firm - 'Our Mr Trim.'
Mr Trim, the traveller, married rather well
Squatter's daughter, up the north - heaps and heaps of cash.
Put it in a wholesale house, so the gossips tell;
Stuck it for a dozen years, and then went smash.
Mr Trim is knocking round somewhere still they say,
Frock coat and shepherd's plaids drooping, like his hope;
Slightly down-at-heel and bald, cuffs inclined to fray
John George Augustus Trim, traveller in soap.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Finally, I also come in recognition of the great work that has been undertaken by the NGOs and UN agencies that have been active for many years here, especially through the local staff and international staff here in Somaliland and in Somalia at large.
quote by Jan Egeland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dust
big voice swallows little voices
the dust blanket the earth continuously
fall from the sky and the air pressures
I chase the dawn that keeps running from me
I thought I can forget my anxiety
still I walk on never ending road
passing narrow street unlighted
when find myself in blind labyrinth
I take a hard breath but move again
can it be called...hope?
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Girl Next Door
White girl living in the big city
In a big apartment house
She's living with her boyfriend now
She drives off every day for school and work
She washes dishes now
And watches tv on the pull out couch
But every day's the same x2
And every day's the same x5
White girl moved back to the suburbs
And she finally found a man
Who knows how to take care of her
She bought the perfect little house
And the lawn's well manicured
And she'd never missed a day of work
And every day's the same x7
White girl couldn't go on knowing
She was just here wasting her time
She drowned in the lake last night
They found her bloated body floating
But she still walks around
Performing all her daily chores
She still don't know what life's about
She still don't know what life's about
Cause every day's the same
And every day's the same x6
song performed by by Blink 182
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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President Obama has embraced a partisan, polarizing strategy since day one when he chose hyper-partisan Rahm Emanuel to be his White House Chief of Staff.
quote by Rory Cooper
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For the first fourteen years for a rod they do whine, For the next as a pearl in the world they do shine, For the next trim beauty beginneth to swerve, For the next matrons or drudges they serve, For the next doth crave a staff for a stay, For the next a bier to fetch them away.
quote by Thomas Tusser
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Still We Rise
The White House Is Still White, Hmm! , really, must be a figment or someones migration working on their concentration, collaboration of devastation trying to be an infiltrator of motivation.
Why has racial discrimination become so tenement in the white house?
A man and the people behind him made a dream reality, Martin Luther King Jr said it better one day and that day, when President Obama moved into the white house.
The white house is still white so why fight people there are enough wars going on around the world, let President Obama do his job, he cannot appease all he has to regulate one thing at a time.
Written by James Brown
poem by James Brown
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I was given a White House - well, you will have to ask the White House that. But I asked to attend the White House briefing because I was, you know, because I wanted to report on the activities there.
quote by Jeff Gannon
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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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Death Is No Mere Farm Hand
Death is no mere farm hand
But an agronomist, an expert,
A planner, a bureaucrat,
God's secretary of Agriculture.
Too busy for us.
Never seen except for photo opps,
Occasional interviews,
Especially during disasters, —
God’s personal observer.
So, we just get to meet the line staff,
Lifers most of them,
Angels counting off their years
Before retirement
Or transfer to a desk job.
Thank God they are often bored,
Work slowly,
Avoid deadlines.
Blessed celestial slackers
Giving us lots of slack
Some of the time
I'd hate to meet a dedicated heavenly servant,
Striving to meet her goal,
Working swiftly, cleanly,
With her new harvester.
Most prefer the old ways:
Hand mowers for bigger jobs,
Clippers to trim the hedges
And cut flowers,
Hands for delicate vegetables,
And garden spades to uproot
The bigger shrubs and bushes.
You can't complain to the staff.
The boss doesn't answer.
But, perhaps, the same crew also
Waters, fertilizes, trims
God’s own Garden.
There is no redundancy in Heaven.
poem by Lewis Eron
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