En.Citatepedia^®.ro

All The Jobs I've Had Over The Years

I was always into sport
when I was at school
or doing impressions
and acting the fool.
Left at fifteen
unsure what to do
and as for a job
I hadn't a clue.
My Dad was a builder
so worked on site
grafted during the day
stayed out late at night.
When I got older
employed on the railway
laying down tracks
worked hard for my pay.
But got restless again
and ended up in a factory
but I hated every minute
it just wasn't for me.
So over the years
I've really moved around
cleaned windows for a living
been a gardener digging the ground.
Tried my hand at teaching
even went to university
dropped out halfway through
went back to the building industry.
Some people only ever have one job
but one's never been enough for me
what would be my ideal job now?
getting paid for writing poetry!

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Chatting Today

I worked for the union and on my very first communion, you know,
It never ever, ever, ever worked out right
So I spent the night sleepin on the railway
I worked for the foundry and man my mind it nearly drowned
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
It never, it could never work out right
So I said so long, amigo. good night and slept on the railway
The railway, theres no better way, ooh the railway
And its nice to talk to you today
I worked for the miller, a very, very nice type of fell-a {fellow}
But I could see that it was never gonna work out right
So I split and spent the night sleeping on the railway
I worked in the subway arc, oh yeah, yeah
You know it never, no no never, no never no, ever no, worked out right
So I said so long and spent the night on the railway
The railway, give me a bottle of whiskey, ooh the railway
Ooh, theres nothin like the railway
And Id like to thank someone for mascara and good things that I done
And for the time ya spent and the friendship begun
And most of all starry nights on the railway
Ooh, I dont know no better way
Than just, ooh, lyin back an drifting away
I can hear it, I can hear it

song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Chatting Today

I worked for the union and on my very first communion, you know,
It never ever, ever, ever worked out right
So I spent the night sleepin on the railway
I worked for the foundry and man my mind it nearly drowned
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
It never, it could never work out right
So I said so long, amigo. good night and slept on the railway
The railway, theres no better way, ooh the railway
And its nice to talk to you today
I worked for the miller, a very, very nice type of fell-a {fellow}
But I could see that it was never gonna work out right
So I split and spent the night sleeping on the railway
I worked in the subway arc, oh yeah, yeah
You know it never, no no never, no never no, ever no, worked out right
So I said so long and spent the night on the railway
The railway, give me a bottle of whiskey, ooh the railway
Ooh, theres nothin like the railway
And Id like to thank someone for mascara and good things that I done
And for the time ya spent and the friendship begun
And most of all starry nights on the railway
Ooh, I dont know no better way
Than just, ooh, lyin back an drifting away
I can hear it, I can hear it

song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

There Is More To Life Than Hard Work

I can't say my life's been a great life that I've been there and I've done that
But I worked in pipe laying crew for Michael Kelleher in Buninyong near Ballarat
And I worked in the late eighties for a firm called C.D.L.
Jack hammering in the heat of Summer when the days were hot as hell.

101 Collins Street Melbourne I remember that address
Not that I enjoyed the work there I remember none the less
Up each morning at five thirty then to work on tram I'd go
And left that building site each evening covered in dust head to toe.

Another four years as tree clearer up by powerlines clearing trees
Operating a cherry picker for such you don't need degrees
For a Travel tower company a growing concern managed by a greedy lot
They still owe me two weeks wages something I have not forgot.

Up working mornings at five thirty between work and travel a twelve hour day
Whilst my so called bosses made their millions I took home bare living pay
Now I take it nice and easy and I'm well off now as I was then
If your bosses make their millions for you there can't be a win

I worked as tree feller in Ireland far away and long ago
In the high woods by the mountains where the peaks wear hats of snow
Most Winter days were wet and chilly up to April not much sunshine
Only sound the cold wind soughing in the larch and spruce and pine.

'Hard work never did anybody harm' to coin that phrase it took a fool
Hard work your life's bound to shorten you can overwork a mule
Hard working Joe is dead at fifty, Pete on welfare living on
Pete five years older and quite healthy he's still here and Joe is gone.

Maybe I've drudged for a few years but I'm not proud of that at all
And if my life has got one highlight such as now I can't recall
And if one tell me how hard he work I tell him my watch is slow
And I'm late for an appointment 'see you later got to go'.

'Ned the basher' at his local like to sing his praises loud
And boast of the hard work he's done to an uninterested crowd,
He's proud to show his work callouses he must have an empty life
But he never once did mention how he often beats his wife

There is more to life than hard work, work to live but not to die
And if you labour hard poor fellow life you never can enjoy
If your boss is making millions and you take home bare living pay
Maybe you should have a re-think and perhaps give the job away.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Small Town America

just an old southern
mill village.... cotton mills
on one side of the road,
furniture factories on the other.

momma worked there,
my sister worked there,
my brother worked there,
and i worked there....

$1.90 an hour, loading trucks
by hand, stacking rolls of cloth
eight feet high without a lift...
putting brackets on beds, or

running bandsaws....
hard hand work, paid every week.

all those buildings empty now....
windows boarded over, signs
falling.... rats run across haunted floors.
even the old gas station

down at the end of the road....
is closed.... no more gas,
no cigarettes, no cold beer.....
and the Sons Of Jesus,

and the Elk's Club quit sharing
the old dance building on the corner....
no one lives here anymore.....

no one lives, no one dies....
and the bum on the corner
that looks like your brother
has no name.... in

small town America!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I worked with practically everybody in the business in all of the years in NBC, but I worked personally many years with people like Crosby and Sinatra, so of course that was a great ground school for me.

quote by Skitch Henderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Something I Shall Never Do

Something I shall never do is regret how I felt about you

When the heartbreak first set in
It hurt for so long and so bad

But that was then and I've moved on
I dont hold any grudges
As a matter of fact I'm actually kind of glad

If it wasn't for you I wouldn't know the things I now do
If it wasn for you I would still be a naive little girl without a clue

Now that I've moved on
And worked pass the heartache and pain
Me and you can go back to being good friends again

Something I shall never do is regret having loved you

Because you unknowingly taught me a life lesson
One that I'm sure I'll always use

Even though I had to learn the hard
In the end I don't mind at all
Because I know that if I had a chance to go back and change time
For you I would still fall

poem by Tiger Lily Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Work

Work is what we have to do
to put food on the table
we work for years and years
that is until we are unable.
We are asked at school
what we want to be?
I remember telling the teacher
that I want to play football for Coventry.
There's all types of work to do
like in an office or a building site
if your lucky you can do sport
be a Boxer and get paid to fight.
But most of us don't do that
and often we do jobs that we hate
like working in a horrible factory
starting early and finishing late.
But some workers love their jobs
and rarely ever miss a day
they enjoy being there so much
they'd probably work for no pay.
Work is a big part of life
so best do something you like
earn vast amounts of money
buy a flash car instead of a bike.
So be happy wherever you work
no matter what job that may be
but most of us want to retire early
that's why we keep on doing the lottery!

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sleepless in Portugal

Late night television, a group of middleclass people
discussing art and its funding, they are so very polite
but only listen to their own voices; people, who make
a living writing about poetry which sells better than
writing it; nevertheless they are my only company this
long night, one of the men tries to control the erection
he gets when looking at the nice woman in red dress.

I have turned the sound down no need to hear what
they are say, gentlefolk but I do wish there had been
a scruffy artist there as well, to livening the proceeding
up, but often artistic people are not nice they have
no patience, not really in a group of bright people who
have gone to university, have a degree in something or
other, and work in the talking industry.

Commercial break, I turn the sound back up, a smooth
talking man has a cure all pill, tells us the medical
industry tries to ignore his wonder drug because it will
make it redundant. Artful mendacity there is an absence
of shame; his sidekick, a woman, who wears so much
make-up, feign to interview him. Soon it will be morning,
and the talking and pretence on the TV will be forgotten.

poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

This Is Payment Price This Poet Pays

My friend is a salary man luckily gainfully employed
five days a week for eight hours a day he earns his pay.
I also for decades worked my days for weekly monthly pay.
I studied hard put in extra time to fully earn my worker pay,
years sped by I worked and worked to earn hard earned pay,
now for a time a time and a half I do not work this way.

I write I write each day by day or through long night.
I work far harder than I did employed in salary fight.
I live on savings hard earned to earn a right to write.
I charge not chance reader read or read not just as you like.
I work I sacrifice to give gift of love as free as stars above.
I give in time in thought in words in wisdom I give in love.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Fallen In

She promised me a
“Better life”
As we moved in there
I hated it
Something’s don’t change
For nothing will be the same

After we moved in I lost something
Something so vital in
My upbringing
That I would not be the same person I am today
That something
Would be my family
They turned into just
People I live with
Day to day

The longer we stayed
The longer we got comfortable
The bigger the hole got
And the littler the latter got
At one time the latter was only half as tall as the hole
But we kept on digging and digging and digging
To where the hole is to big to deep
To climb out of

Now it’s as if we all are stuck in the middle
Big hole with no way out
So someone is smothering us
Since we all have
Fallen in

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I had a hard time with that hockey. I hadn't grown up skating, so that was my biggest challenge. We worked on it and worked on it. But then when we first shot it, it was so hard for me.

quote by Woody Harrelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Clean Coal?

She worked the counter
at the local diner.
He worked in the caves.
He was a miner.
They both left for work
early every day.
Returned in the evening
with not too much to say.
Too tired to talk
They ate quietly.
They accepted their fate
and the monotony.

She was used to the siren
that sounded the alarm.
Workers in the mine
had come to some harm.
She would leave her job
and run to the site,
saying the words
that she prayed every night.
'Please God have mercy
on my man.
Bring him out alive
if you can.'

And when she saw him
she held him and cried,
happy he was safe,
sad that others died.
They went back home
with not too much to say.
For tomorrow would come
and they needed the pay.
So back to the mine
and the diner they went.
It was their way of living.
They had to pay rent.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

On A Seven-Day Diary

Oh I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and talked and went to sleep.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
from work and ate and slept.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and watched a show and slept.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate steak and went to sleep.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and fucked and went to sleep.
Then it was Saturday, Saturday, Saturday!
Love must be the reason for the week!
We went shopping! I saw clouds!
The children explained everything!
I could talk about the main thing!
What did I drink on Saturday night
that lost the first, best half of Sunday?
The last half wasn't worth this 'word.'
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
from work and ate and went to sleep,
refreshed but tired by the weekend.

poem by Alan Dugan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Oxymoron Sonata

They call this poor disable boy at school in the building maintenance class oxymoron but he is not and he is a poor disable men just like me
But I get instruction from my building maintenance at school and I have To follow it if I want to learn something because I am not there just to Waste my time and the teacher tells me to take the other men with me And teach him how to clean the windows
But all the other people do is laughing about the two of us that are Trying so hard to learn how to clean the windows at the school cafeteria
And I also find it very sad because they don't have respect for anybody And they behave like animals also
But when the school principle comes into the class and evaluates how The teacher is teaching than the whole behaviour changes
And they behave like saints

poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Subcity

People say it doesnt exist
cause no one would like to admit
That there is a city underground
Where people live everyday
Off the waste and decay
Off the discards of their fellow man
Here in subcity life is hard
We cant receive any government relief
Id like to please give mr president my honest regards
For disregarding me
They say theres too much crime in these city streets
My sentiments exactly
Government and big business hold the purse strings
When I worked I worked in the factories
Im at the mercy of the world
I guess Im lucky to be alive
They say weve fallen through the cracks
They say the system works
But we wont let it
Help
I guess they never stop to think
We might not just want handouts
But a way to make an honest living
Living this aint living
What did I do deserve this
Had my trust in god
Worked everyday of my life
Thought I had some guarantees
Thats what I thought
At least thats what I thought
Last night I had another restless sleep
Wondering what tomorrow might bring
Last night I dreamed
A cold blue light was shining down on me
I screamed myself awake
Thought I must be dying
Thought I must be dying

song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Take It Back

I won
I worked too hard to get it
So what?
Its over just forget it
Too much, too soon
Too late until you realize
Youve got it made?
Youre in for a big surprise
Thats not what I want at all
Thats not what I wanted
Can I take it back?
Can I take it back?
Im asking
Its gone
And I dont want to fake it
Its wrong
Ive become the one I hated

song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

First Shot

I said I was hunting deer. I knew the trails, the split tracks and pellets of shit; circles
where they bedded down together. I faced a buck once, for almost ten minutes I think;
I moved first and it left me. I ran home to think.

I had a bow, target arrows, a target on straw. My father said be careful, and I was, but
I sneaked my bow and arrow to the woods. I surprised a tiny rabbit near a hole. It
froze. I had an arrow on it. I moved and it ran for the hole. I never shot.

They had a blanket, in a clearing of wiry grass that sloped to the north. He had her
down, her hands all over his back. I thought I knew her. They hadn't seen me. I notched
an arrow. His head turned my way, vague, like he needed his glasses, and maybe afraid.
I got scared, I wasn't sure what it was; I shot my arrow, my first shot, wild I think, and ran.

I waited for something for weeks, for more than weeks. I couldn't answer questions. I
thought I saw her a few times, later. I never went back until I was sixteen, almost, and
nothing was there but I only stayed for a minute.

poem by Eric Torgersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Jer McCarthy

He transported cattle for farmers to and from the marts in Kanturk, Macroom and Millstreet
A well liked fellow and known far and wide
And up and down the narrow roads of Muskerry and Duhallow
He often journeyed through that scenic countryside.

He worked so hard for to earn his honest living
For trucking cattle never is an easy job
On dark and wet and slippery roads in depths of Winter
There are far easier ways for to earn one's living bob.

Still Jer McCarthy seemed to like the job he worked at
As he was a people person you might say
He gave good service to the local farmers
And I hope he is alive and well today.

I wonder is he still transporting cattle?
For he's well past retirement age by now
And life as we grow older doesn't get easier
And all of us to father time must bow.

I know that I am looked on as old fashioned
For I am one still rooted in the past
I still recall the years when I was younger
But on looking back the time just went so fast.

At times I feel that I feel over nostalgic
When my eyes mist over with nostalgic tears
As I recall kind souls like Jer McCarthy
And the role models of my younger years

Many people feel that the future only matter
And their younger years they often don't recall
But when I recall my boyhood in Duhallow
I'm remembering my happiest days of all.

And when I remember one like Jer McCarthy
Who worked so hard for to earn his living pay
I feel somehow that the past is worth recalling
And I hope he's still alive and well today

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Late

You got home late at night.
Then we had a rousing fight.
I know you're unfaithful don't deny it.
I've seen you two, I know what you do.
Do you take me for a fool?
I'm not blind.
I saw his hand on your behind.
Caressing with a tenderness.
That lovers share in splendedness.
I'm not deaf. I've heard you speak,
such filthy words my stomachs weak.
Now my eyes begin to leak.
He's had you oh so many times.
Have you any shame for your crimes.
I've seen the looks you pass.
Your secret love revealed at last.
Where did everything go so wrong?
When we've been together oh so long?
It's very late. You've had your date.
Now you'll lay in the bed you've made.
You filthy wretch you're to blame.
With your man man you've killed this lovely life,
for which we worked so hard and strived.
It's over now so be with him.
When it's ended I'll just grin.

poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Do Wot You Do

And in reflection of days gone by
I stayed awake all last night
When morning came, I was still unsure
To laugh or cry, I'm needin' more
And it's not easy to take the time
From all we need, we cannot hide
We live our dreams and all we find
Is bittersweet and full of pride
Ooh what have we done
Built it up, a little too strong
I need every minute with you
No one else can do what'cha do what'cha
I need every minute with you
No one else can do what'cha do what'cha
And in reflection of days gone by
I stayed awake all last night
When morning came, I was still unsure
To laugh or cry, I'm needin' more
Ooh what have we done
Built it up, a little too strong
I need every minute with you
No one else can do what'cha do what'cha
I need every minute with you
No one else can do what'cha do what'cha
Ooh what have we done
Built it up, a little too strong
I need every minute with you
No one else can do what'cha do what'cha
I need every minute with you
No one else can do what'cha do what'cha
Submitted by Michael Hack

song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!