To Sit As Thieves On Thrones
Just like you wish certain things in your life...
Did not exist?
What makes you think you are by yourself,
To accept with belief,
You are better than someone else?
And who told you the ability to have and to get,
Made your life without being beset with issues...
Promised upon your birth?
The ones who have absolutely nothing to complain about,
Are those who have declared themselves royalty for centuries...
To sit as thieves on thrones from resources stolen.
And to pronounce themselves chosen to be more deserving,
With a lifting of not a finger to work to earn for what they have.
As those who do have to work to make ends meet,
Do it to add more taxes that are collected to add to a pocketing...
To boost the feeding of a revenue religiously.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Get up, go to work, go home, go to bed
Get up, go to work, go home, go to bed
Is this what life's all about I said?
Work, work, work every single day
Just to earn enough my bills to pay.
Surely life must be much more than this
Someone tell me what the purpose is.
Then, 'You can have life abundantly'
I heard the Lord Jesus say to me.
'I am the door: if you enter in
then your new life with me will begin.
These things of earth will just pass away
but the life I give is here to stay.'
So I turned around and followed Him
and my life was no longer so grim.
I still have to work to earn my pay
but He gives a purpose to each day.
Lovingly Do The Work
Work is
Life...
Life is work...
Any work is not
Wrong...
Without work is
Worng...
Human every budy works
Wny way too work...s
Work is making you...
Work is given good life
For you...and your's...
So...
Understand too work
Earn money too work...
Live life with your work...
Love too work...
Learn to do the work...
Lovingely do the work...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lap Of Luxury
I work all day and I work all night 4x
I work all day and I work all night
I work so my wife and kids will have a pleasant life
I work as many jobs as I can
Im proud to work I guess Im just a working man
-who am I to complain
I live in the lap of luxury
I got a car and a big tv thats so fine
I go to the pictures when I can
-the pictures take me to far-away lands
-almost makes me forget who I am
Sometimes at work Ive a fantasy
That Im a man who livesa life of mystery
(but) then the whistle brings me to
I cant forget why Im here, Ive got a job to do
-responsibility- is much more important to a man like me
I work all day and I work all night
I work all day and I work all night - etc. etc.
Guitar solo
I got a job at the factory
But I dont mind cause I know that the job is right for me
I dont complain Im satisfied
And I dont care to rub elbows with the wealthy
Theyve got their problems too, I dont envy them a bit dont ya know
Im doin what I want and it aint so bas
Ive got everything that a man could have
(Im) living in the lap of luxury - living in the lap of luxury
Work all day and I work all night
I work all day and I work all night etc. etc.
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As life nears
It is life cycle
We are helpless and unable
No say in ultimate end
To live with the world and befriend
Good work may be paid as life nears
Its destination and leaves only tears behind
Nothing to miss about your loss as it was open and frank
Everybody is in grief but pray the God and thank
You might have been good to people
You might proved your worth and be able
To deliver the work as promised
It might be hailed as achievement before you ceased
Not all get everything as desired in life
The life is full of challenge and also of strife
How you could do it is another aspect
This has only lead you to earn respect
Today people are laying wreath
It is great loss to them over your death
Not that there were no people of your caliber
But you were great success and hailed as climber
You were so close to their heart
This was no less achievement as an art
To get acclaim from people is a rare feat
People have to make great sacrifice and sweat
I evaluate this scene as one of most deserving and commendable
Your dreams have been realized and proved as sustainable
So far they were considered as unachievable and beyond human reach
You made it as reality as no one had promised as such
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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You Can't Make What Doesn't Work
You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.
I want to say that,
You can't make what doesn't work...
For me exist.
When my happiness,
Doesn't depend on it.
I have my own beliefs,
That satisifies my every need.
The memories that I keep,
Reminds me how I stood...
Up on my own two feet.
No you can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If with a faith I took risks,
And decided that my own life I would live.
I have my own beliefs,
That satisifies my every need.
The memories that I keep,
Reminds me how I got to stand up..
On my own two feet.
Oh...
You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.
So, if it doesn't work for you,
Why do you wish to prove...
What it is that I do,
Is a waste of effort.
So, if it doesn't work for you,
Why do you wish to prove...
What it is that I do,
Is to me a disservice.
You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bosses
Ted Jones our supervisor a quiet bloke he doesn't have much to say
But he makes sure we do our work or so 'twould seem that way
For he's often with our foreman Tim and on us they keep an eye
The word from them if you keep working the time so quickly fly.
I work because I have to work though work I don't enjoy
And it's never easy cutting branches when you are way up high
It's scary on cherry picker bucket when you look towards the ground
But we must keep on working on with Tim and Ted around.
Ted to me seems a gentle sort but the system's got to him
And then of course I never could see eye to eye with Tim
For if you dare complain to Tim he'll tell you where to go to
He'll say there's plenty out of work and better men than you.
I'm slave to Southern Travel Towers of trimming trees constantly
And living stress and repetitive work has made an old man of me
And the Company Directors have Ted and Tim to make sure I earn my pay
You start from the work yard every morning and finish there each day.
If Ted Jones had his own way the job would be okay
At least he doesn't keep watching us like Tim does every day
But Tim more than makes up for him and Ted now must feel sure
That with Southern Travel Towers leading hand in charge his job must be secure.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Work
WHEN I am busying about,
Sewing on buttons, tapes, and strings,
Hanging the week's wet washing out
Or ironing the children's things,
Sweeping and dusting, cleaning grates,
Scrubbing the dresser or the floors,
Washing the greasy dinner plates,
Scouring the brasses on the doors--
I wonder what it's all about,
And when did people first begin
To keep the dirt and wornness out
And keep the wholesome comfort in:
How long it is since women bore
This round of wash and make and mend,
And what God makes us do it for
And whether it will ever end!
When God began to do His work
He made a new thing every day--
Even now He is not one to shirk,
But makes things, always some new way
He made the earth, and sky, and sun,
The creatures of the sea and wood,
And when his first week's work was done
He saw that it was very good.
But He--for all He worked so fast
To finish air, and wave, and shore,
Knew that this work of His would last
For ever and for evermore.
On Saturday night He was content,
He knew that Monday would not bring
Need for another firmament,
Another set of everything.
But though my work is easier far
Than making sky and sea and sun,
It's harder than God's labours are,
Because my work is never done.
I sweep and churn, save and contrive,
I bake and brew, I don't complain,
But every Monday morning I've
Last Monday's work to do again.
I'm good at work--I work away;
Always the same my work must go;
The flowers grow different every day,
That's why I like to see them grow.
If, up in Heaven, God understood
He'd let me for my Paradise
Make all things new and very good
And never make the same thing twice!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work To Make It Work
(r palmer)
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve it
Push it along
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy
Ah push
Work work work to make it work push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Don't confine your dreams to bed
You'll get scared if you get lazy
If you can't take enough to satisfy yourself
Then you'll go crazy
Wont do no good thinking
You got to do it
So it don't come easy the first time
Practice makes perfect, you know that i'll try hard
Use it or lose it
You got to put your heart and soul into it
Yeaheheh
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy forget wishful thinking
You can do it
You just need a push to make a start
If you don't succeed the first time
Try and try again
Use it or lose it
You got to put your back into it
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
song performed by by Robert Palmer
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
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 To Make It Work 99
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve it
Push it along
Its all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you cant deal with
Aint no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy
Ah push
Work work work to make it work push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Dont confine your dreams to bed
Youll get scared if you get lazy
If you cant take enough to satisfy yourself
Then youll go crazy
Wont do no good thinking
You got to do it
So it dont come easy the first time
Practice makes perfect, you know that Ill try hard
Use it or lose it
You got to put your heart and soul into it
Yeaheheh
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Its all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you cant deal with
Aint no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy forget wishful thinking
You can do it
You just need a push to make a start
If you dont succeed the first time
Try and try again
Use it or lose it
You got to put your back into it
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Work work work to m
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Application Of Much Elbow Grease
If I believed everything in life,
Should come to me quick and easy...
I would not have made any attempts,
To accomplish anything.
I'd be more like you...
Complaining and maintaining,
An ability to make new and fresh excuses.
Refusing to listen.
Or accept and move on,
From mistakes I've made.
I'd be like you...
Pretending the only thing I needed,
To boost my self esteem from a routine...
Was a bit of luck.
And a patted stroke on my back,
From someone who offered a shoulder to cry on.
And while you are here...
Let me make this comment absolutely clear.
I will never make it a habit,
To run from one listening ear to another.
Wasting my time or that of others...
Whining about time I don't have,
As I defend every one of my insecurities.
I've witnessed too many seasons,
Hearing how some folks abruptly leave.
To produce nothing but a list of 'what ifs'.
Perceiving they could wish procrastination away.
I've witnwessed too many seasons,
In bloom...
Acknowledging my dreams needed more from me,
Than wishful thinking without sacrifice, dedication...
And the application of much elbow grease!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Empty Promised Land
The clock is ticking on the wall the world is spinning
while the billions work to justify their lives.
They search for meaning in their useless sense of breeding
in their quest for recognition when they die.
Because ego won't permit belief in our mortality
so we manufactured our delusioned lie.
We believe with much conviction in our useless superstition
that our lives are bigger than life.
The man on TV preaches his beliefs to me
and says that I am doomed because I don't think like him.
He asks for contributions for his sermons convolutions,
in return is absolution for your sins.
I watch in disbelief as people try and shed their grief
because they can't accept the things that they've become.
They blindly patronize a dogmatic pack of lies
that tell them Jesus is their chosen one.
Strictly designed for the weak of mind,
not just the working man's opiate anymore.
Paralyzed minds all seeking the sublime
with all doubt ruled out by their faith in the divine.
All of them seeking that same righteous reward.
Weak of mind and born to follow,
do not question the beliefs you swallow.
Eternal life for your belief in man,
welcome to the empty promised land.
Don't think, don't breathe, don't live, just believe.
With no question just devotion lifeless life living in transit
song performed by by Zero Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Never Going To Work Out Between Us
you want so much from me,
but i feel like i'm doing more of the work,
what is it you want from me?
when you talk to me it when you want,
i gave to a chance to open up,
but i see this going nowhere,
we never left the friends level,
i know you repected my wishes,
when i told you i wanted to be friends,
but as soon as i did,
you were afraid to take a chance,
relationship don't have to start,
only when we hang out,
if you can't make it work long terms,
it just not going to work with me,
i like to have a life,
outside of the relationship,
not dreaming about it day and night,
until it becames all that you think about,
cuz when it ends,
what do you have left?
a life that continues when it didn't last.
10/12/10
poem by Mona Martinez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Accustomed To An Irrational Way Of Life
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
Especially when one's standing,
On debts owed.
Requires one to pay up,
For an out of control feasting to be paid.
As a 'sensible' way to pay for it with 'cash'.
Something demanded that one does not have.
And to state with a dignified presence,
That those awaiting to be paid for those losses generated.
Should be the ones already suffering,
From those mistakes made by those who fed at the feast.
To leave it in shambles,
And the ones left starving and homeless.
Are responsible and accountable to pay for a mess,
While those greedy keep.
Not only what they have hoarded,
But also the resources stuffed in their overflowing pockets.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
And
They have no intention to pay a cent,
For what has been spent.
To sustain their lofty positions,
Because they have been hypnotized.
On rights of their entitlements.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Is like introducing a reality never known.
Nor will that reality expressed be accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work To Work
Happy too
Work...
Un happy too
work...
Love too
Woork...
With out love too
Work...
Silentely work...
Tenson to work...
Peace too work...
Diperession to work...
Work with work...
Any time do any
Work...
Work is give for
Human...
Relax and releave...
Sad too work...
Woory too work...
Work too work...
Work is wondrfully
Changed your and your's life
Each every day
Don't take un wanted rest
With your's lazey...
Lazy making
Sad... dipression...
Tenson...
Useless thinking...
So...
Work is wonder fully
Chnage to change for your's...
Mind and thinking and your's life...
Woo
Work to work with you
And other's...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Of Work
riding in the saddle
henchmen at your side
holy macaroni
hose you on your back
and the bystanders just stand there
like _____ on a shelf
in the world of work your rivals
that you have yet to meet
and quite a bunch they are
in the morning sun
with blinking eyes
the worthless stands
in readiness
for transport to
the battleground
there's dirty work
ahead of them
and quite a bunch they are
what do you do with a life of work?
what do you do with a life of work?
what do you do with a life of work?
face it in the morning
face it in the morning
and the parting of the ways
and the interrupted mirth
and the shock that has to come
because of what you want
compared to what you've got
meet it squarely
and it only hurts
when it hurts
life of work
early in the morning
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If The Surface For Them Did Not Exist
If the surface didn't exist,
Many wouldn't have a thought to cling to.
Many wouldn't know,
Which gossip heard was true.
If the surface for them did not exist.
If the surface didn't exist,
The many dependent on having lives not their own...
Would be lost without being told what to do.
Many absolutely would not have a clue...
How to find their way around,
Without following in someone's footsteps.
If the surface they sniffed did not exist.
And if the surface for them did not exist...
They would not be able to sit alone,
Doing something completely on their own...
And appreciating life,
With the minding of their own business.
If...
The surface for many did not exist,
It would be taumatic for them to seek a thought process.
Many would not know where or how to begin.
So many are accustomed to living lives that are shallow.
With an ability only to identify with that...
Which is supplied and arrives to them surfacely.
Even a dog sniffing tries to find a place to bury a bone.
And doing that alone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Great And Mighty
Great and mighty is The Lord, while loved by many and adored,
For all that He’s done for us, our Lord and Savior, Christ Jesus;
When in Him we put our trust, sinners destined to return to dust,
He granted to us a New Birth, providing to us our Eternal Worth.
Now seated in Heaven above, He’s so deserving of all our love,
Reigning from a Throne on high, Lord and Creator, of you and I;
Of all life Christ is the Creator, and to many Christ is our Savior,
This when we’re moved by Grace, to accept God’s love by faith.
Ruling over every single nation, is the Author of man’s salvation,
Aware of everything down here; believers haven’t a need to fear;
For the plan, which God’s begun, will be completed by His Son,
Who, purchased us on Calvary, now is preparing us for Eternity.
“It is finished” Christ did cry, finishing redemption, for you and I,
As all work to cleanse us from sin, was fully completed by Him;
By Christ’s work we’re forgiven, on a cross as nails were driven,
Into His feet, hands and side, when on the cross for us He died.
Now risen to Glory, is Jesus Christ, to offer all men Eternal Life,
A new life, anyone can receive, if in The Lord, they only believe;
And Great and Mighty you’ll proclaim, lifting praise to His name,
As a member of God’s Family, with a home provided in Eternity.
(Copyright ©02/2010)
A New Work
Feeding a new work is like diligence,
Opening this will inherit a new work;
I hammer him with a sizzling effort
As he fed on me in the past with love;
The rest offered peace, so much peace,
A living system of pleasure and it teases us.
Forcing an expansion of our life,
The system is a new enterprise of good sitting,
Full of my love is this plan, this weight of goodness.
I am patient, do not complain, as my frantic work
Is complete as can possibly be.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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