Extinction
The Past
A pristine blue sky
Mirrored agrarian lives
Living with nature.
Their work was always difficult
But that never seemed to matter.
Their crops were all that counted most:
Enough to feed the family
In good times as well as the bad
Everyone loved their plot of land.
They knew it meant their survival
So the hard work was the tradeoff.
What developed was mutual
Respect: an interconnection
Whereby one affects the other;
But then one day a cloud appeared:
A black, menacing, looming cloud
Foretelling future misfortune.
The Present
The industrial
Revolution dawned under
This foreboding cloud.
Machines began to do the work
That man and beasts for eons had
Performed with blood, sweat and tears.
His work was easier to do
But soon discovered that he had
Become an industrial slave.
A mere symbiotic creature:
His nature was parasitic.
He no longer had in himself
The oneness and independence
That he had always called his own.
He’d become fat and ignorant
Living by his own destructive
Philosophy: hedonism.
The future
The sky is poisoned
As well as the land and the seas.
The earth was dying.
Through Mans continuous neglect
The earth became terminally
Ill. It was no longer able
To sustain the needs of Mankind.
War broke out all over the globe
Millions killed, many more had starved
To death; billions soon will follow
Billions more after that. The stench
Of rotting flesh has overwhelmed
Those able to live another
Hopeless day, gasped the putrid air
Futile murmurings continued
Until silenced by the guns
The ultimate judicature.
An eerie silence
Prevailed and all that was heard
Was screeching vultures.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work Hard,
Work Hard,
Work hard and strive on and on,
This is the Living Bread that Hold's this Conscience,
It is only through me that I find Trust worth an Honour,
Living with that Bread,
I take the reward as the Great Covenant from God,
work hard on earth like Birds that build nest with Honour,
Work hard regardless of Status,
Was is a Disillusion of God's Trust towards Mankind,
Whilst Iam taking this Bread that I may feed on the GOOD spirit.
poem by Abdul Karim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work Hard on Labours,
Work Hard on Labours,
Work hard and strive on and on,
This is the Living Bread that Hold's this Conscience,
It is only through me that I find Trust worth an Honour,
Living with that Bread,
I take the reward as the Great Covenant from God,
work hard on earth like Birds that build nest with Honour,
Work hard regardless of Status,
War is a Disillusion of God's Trust towards Mankind,
Whilst Iam taking this Bread that I may feed on the GOOD WITNESS SPIRIT agains't evil from Birds.
poem by Abdul Karim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Are We So Greedy
To the Earth Mother who feeds us disrespect we do pay
That future generations may have to pay for one day
Of stealing from Nature's resources billions some do make
Why are we so greedy that we take and we take?
In disrespect for Nature through innocence lost
The success of us humans could come at a cost
The ways of Mother Nature we do not understand
We pollute the air, seas, waterways and land
'Tis Nature resources made the oil dealer a billionaire
Yet of Nature's beauty such types not aware
We do not own Nature though to her we belong
And to her many of us have done wrong
And for our crimes against her future generations may yet pay
That seems a sad thing for to have to say.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Day
Well Im hiding my eyes from the morning sun
And I keep on working till the work is all done
But a voice in my head keeps ticking away
As the sweats hosed down from yet another day
Well he works hard
And he lives hard
And he breaks his back without nothing to gain
While the boss man sits around and drinks champagne
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
Well Im peeling the blisters off my working hand
Is that what it takes to make you understand?
That its something you read, not something you meant
To be slaving away without a shred of integrity
He worked hard
And he lived hard
And he broke his back without nothing to say
While the man in control was just laughing away
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
Was it something you read?
Was it something you meant?
Was it something you said?
Or was it heaven sent?
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work Hard, Play Harder
Work seems to be mandatory,
For people like me,
Slaving over books at school,
Just to get the grades,
We don’t have much money,
So after school I work,
Cleaning, babysitting, retail,
It’s tiring after awhile,
Homework and coursework,
Two more pains of teenage life,
It seems to me that I,
Work all night and work all day,
In the future for many years to come,
I know I’ll have to work,
Uni work and training,
I’ll need a part time job too,
But then I see, between it all,
I do get a rest and have fun,
I have great times, out with friends,
Addicted to CSI,
So now I work faster,
To get it over with,
Cus my philosophy is,
Work hard now, play harder later.
poem by Cathryn Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life of a Cloud
Warming thermals whisper as they rise,
To tell us they are soon to bring to view
In cooler air aloft before your eyes:
A gentle wisp to counterpoint the blue.
Powder puffs emerge to grant her grace
That further bloom as would for stately tree, and
Yield a sight that calls for our embrace:
Another cloud anew above the lea.
Cruising forth, she yearns for ageless life.
O how her hopes will soon be dashed in vain,
For up there in the cold she courts her strife,
To fade away as drops of closing rain.
Scant and lacy speak her living span,
And fair among us could be brought to mourn,
But she was there to populate her clan:
From fallen tears, new daughters will be born.
Copyright © Mark R slaughter 2010
A cloudy sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work
Writers: leo sayer, tom snow & john vastano
Five days out of seven
Eight hours of every one
Im tryin to buy a piece of heaven
But Ill be gone
Before that heaven comes
Work, work, work
Who nees it?
Its all I ever seem to do
Im killin myself for a livin
Livin the workin mans blues
Minute to minute
Day after day
Wherever I go its always the same
I work a little longer
To make up my pay
But when the cheque comes along
Theyve taken half of it away
All the work, work, work
Who nees it?
All I ever seem to do
You know Im killin myself for a livin
I should be stayin at home with you
City to city
All over the world
Wherever I been to -- thats all I ever heard
You work a little longer
To double up on that pay
When the taxman comes along
They take half of it away
Work, work, work
Who nees it?
Its all I ever seem to do
Im killin, killin time for a livin
Livin the workin mans blues
Yeah, its all work! work! work! work!
Thats all it is
Killin myself for a livin
Like drivin a nail straight into my hand
Ive been workin my life away
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Of A Dying Breed
Well I hate to say the farmer was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land and taking what he needs
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind
In the struggle for parity, not one mans voice can sound
Cuz the foundation of the conglomerate is firmly in the ground
Yeah they wanna feed the world, but for power and for greed
Then theyll cut off the supply until they get what they need
Well I dreamed I saw a dustbowl where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying thru the sky, it had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning on the white house lawn
Just woke up one morning and the farmers all were gone
Well I hate to say the farmer was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land and taking what he needs
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With all the sympathy
A person is called saint if he has kindness with all the sympathy
He can claim then only as direct descendent of almighty
Or Messiah, messenger or for that respect an angel
At every inch you must look ordinary but with different angle
I have known or heard about many of such figures
They have worked for the humanity and reassured
About the human misery and risk involved for apathy
What work is to be taken up or followed to gain His sympathy?
Each work is evaluated and appreciated by God
Many might have lost favor as their soul stands sold
They are burden and living animal on earth
At each stage they live on but with the fear of death
To work under such difficult situation is Herculean task
No one may opt for it or readily go and ask
Some of the great souls are easily picked on earth
God has always created such situation without any dearth
Such a kind of saints have prevailed in present time
For the rescue of mankind with their known and committed crimes
Hardly anybody can undertake such enterprise
It is much to relief and to our surprise
It proves God's existence
We feel and experience His presence
He is omni present and in every individual
Only we fail to understand Him and take very casual
If some one works on charity or any kind of human service
That may be counted as noble cause and looked upon very nice
All kinds of help will be rendered and efforts lauded
His or her presence will be taken with high esteem and applauded
It is not done to gain international fame
It may involve great work and full of blames
Little slackness may invite lots of criticism
As it isli9nked with the work of humanism
Thousands of hands are raised in your well being
Prayers and congregations are held to praise and sing
Preaching is done so as to spread the kind and love message
The sick and ill fated souls are shown the way with passage
The services of poor may be remembered very long
It is not only the care and help but to stay among
Not showing mere finger for any work to be done
The far reaching impact will never be undone
Some of the names may be remembered by all
As they have responded with charity and humanitarian call
Anybody could do it without any assistance
But it has made some difference with their presence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fingers To The Bone
Everything went wrong
Im sorry boys, Ive got to let you go
Weve had some hard times
And the long rain, it didnt show
Hired hands, Ive seen them come and go
But you dont come much better
Todays blue monday
I just got a bad news letter
This day has come
The darkest cloud on our horizon
My hands are tied down
To that promise note I signed upon
Always been this way
Its the poor man who gets hurt
All you ever work for
Is to leave your footprints in the dirt
You work your fingers to the bone
The deed is done
The fruit will fall to someone elses hand
Thats how the land lies
Now we all know where we stand
Youll have to walk away
Dont let them see you running
Todays blue monday
I should have seen it coming
You work your fingers to the bone
If sweat and tears were all it took
To make this valley green
Wed be alright but now its gone
Theyve taken everything
They say its just an act of god
And thats the way ill wind blows
Youve got thirty days to pack your bags
Say goodbye, hit the road
You work your fingers to the bone
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heavy Cloud No Rain
Turned on the weather man just after the news
I needed sweet rain to wash away my blues
He looked at the chart but he look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain
Back in time with louis xvi
At the court of the people he was number one
Hed be the bluest blood theyd ever seen
When the king said hi to the guillotine
The royal astrologer was run out of breath
He thought that maybe the rain would postpone his death
He look in sky but he look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain
Well the land was cracking and the river was dry
All the crops were dying when they ought to be high
So to save his farm from the bankers draft
The farmer took out a book on some old witchcraft
He made a spell and a potion on a midsummers night
He killed a brindled calf in the pale moonlight
He prayed to the sky but he prayed in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain
Heavy cloud but no rain
The sun wont shine till the clouds are gone
The clouds wont go till their work is done
And every morning youll hear me pray
If only it would rain today
I asked my baby if thered be some way
She said shed save her love for a rainy day
I look in the sky but I look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pack Of Lies
That from hard work and endeavour up the social rank you will rise
To me anyhow does seem a pack of lies
'Tis just an old cliche that and nothing more
That some like to quote and we have heard before.
Even in so called prosperous Countries today
Some of the hardest working people work for survival pay
Many honest and willing workers living in poverty
Life for them seems unfair that's how 'twould seem to me.
Many of who on the theory of hard work believe
Say if you do not work hard from life you cannot receive
Yet many of the billionaires of mining and property development and oil
Have never experienced the hardship of toil.
Just an antiquated cliche it does seem indeed
That those who work hardest in life do succeed
The underpaid workers create many a billionaire
For millions around the World life does seem unfair.
I know of an old bloke who has worked hard in his working life
And he struggled for to pay for the funeral of his wife
Just one more poor hard worker his type are everywhere
There are millions of them in the big World out there.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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War is a survival among us from savage times and affects now chiefly the boyish and unthinking element of the nation. The wisest realize that there are better ways for practicing heroism and other and more certain ends of insuring the survival of the fittest. It is something a people outgrow. But whether they consciously practice peace or not, nature in its evolution eventually practices it for them, and after enough of the inhabitants of a globe have killed each other off, the remainder must find it more advantageous to work together for the common good.
quote by Percival Lowell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hit It
1st verse
Somebody said what are you doin down there
Trying to make me a living
All I want is to get my fair share
Im pleading but nobodys giving
Maybe Im wrong, and I dont see things clear
But I know how I feel after all the these years
Ill keep fighting the pain and the heartache and tears
Chorus
Then Ill push it, going to work it
Keep right on till I hit it
Im going to push it, going to work it
Keep right on till I hit it
Push it, going to work it
Keep right on till I hit it
Im going to push it, going to work it
Keep right on till I hit it
2nd verse
Looking up cause Ive got time to spare
Today the sun aint shining
Im still searching everywhere
For my cloud with the silver lining
People say that enough is enough
Turn my back on this thing put it down to bad luck
But the day I do that, then my life will be up
Chorus
So Ill push it, going to work it
Keep right on till I hit it
Im going to push it, going to work it
Keep right on till I hit it
Push it, going to work it
Keep right on till I hit it
Im going to push it, going to work it
Keep right on till I hit it
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We & Dem
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out, oy!
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But someone will ave to pay
For the innocent blood
That they shed every day,
Oh, children, mark my word;
Its what the Bible say, yeah! yeah!
Oh, we no know how we and dem a-go work this out;
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But in the beginning jah created everythin (oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh),
Givin man dominion over all things.
But now its too late,
You see, men has lost their faith (oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh), hey-ey-hey!
Eating up all the flesh from off the earth, eh!
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (no, we dont know);
Dub-da-dub-da-dub!
Dub-a-dippidi-doop-de-doo!
Nim-a-nummany num-na-noo!
Num-a-nummana-num-da-nay!
Dippy-dippy-dippy: dip-de-dub-de-day!
Dip-a-dubbada-dub-da-day!
But I say: we no know how we and dem a-go work it out:
Them a flesh and bone!
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But we now have no friends
In-a high society, yea-a-eah!
We no have no friends;
Oh, mark my identity;
We no have no friends. oh-oh! yeah!
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (no, we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out (no, we dont know);
(we no know how we and dem a-go work this out.) rasta!
(we no know how we and dem a-go work this out.) ilyabom! /fadeout/
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out Of Work
8 a.m. Im up and my feet beating on the sidewalk
Down at the unemployment agency, all I get is talk
I check the want ads but there just aint nobody hiring
Whats a man supposed to do when hes down and hes
Out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
I go to pick my girl up
Her name is linda brown
Her dad invites me in
He tells me to sit down
The small talk that were making
Is going pretty smooth
But then he drops a bomb
Son, what dya do ?
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Hey mr president I know you got your plans
Youre doing all you can now to aid the little man
We got to do our best to whip that inflation down
Maybe you got a job for me just driving you around
Im out of work
These hard times, theyre enough
To make a man lose his mind
Im out of work
Up there you got a job but down here below
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Of His Kind
Well I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
In the struggle for parity
Not one man's voice can sound
Cause the foundation
of the conglomerate
Is firmly in the ground.
Yeah, they want to feed the world
But for power and for greed
Then they'll cut off the supply
Until they get what they need.
Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
Where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying through the sky
It had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning
On the Whitehouse lawn
Just woke up one morning
And the farmers all were gone
I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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