An Early Retirement
There's an ad on TV about retiring.
I'm not worried about retiring.
I'm retiring from life early.
It means I'm not... traditionally
going to live long enough to retire.
Just like all the old boiler makers in trade.
Who worked all those years, welding
inside pipes, and other enclosed spaces, places.
Sucking in all those harmful toxic fumes.
None of them lived long enough to retire.
Just like my father the carpenter.
An era when honest men daily worked up a blinder.
Just like my father hardest working carpenter.
Who worked all those long years, man-handling
heavy loads. Concreting, steel, heavy beams.
Straining the heart, arteries, neck, back, hands.
Working up a triple hernia. Before being killed
off, from lead based paint, and asbestos residue.
It is only management! And white collar workers!
Who have to worry, about saving, for retirement.
Worrying about, all that extra weight, accumulating.
On their lard asses, from all that gourmet cuisine.
While a real worker, will think he's done himself
proud, on pizza, fish and chips, and a few beers.
Just the ticket. Just the ticket. For a really good time.
Just about the only ticket, a real worker can afford.
To purchase, on his dismal daily pay, while paying rent.
Workers are dying. Instead of worrying about retiring.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Is That All There Is?
'Is this all there is too life? '
I over heard my husband say.
I worked and slaved my life away,
And worked for little pay.
Now I am retired, and working harder then, I ever did before.
Is this all there is?
I thought there would be so much more!
I am lucky if I'll live till I'm old,
All my friends I knew did not!
Is that what we had all worked our lives for,
And what is it we have got?
Cars' not paid for, the morgage still due,
Had to take a loan on the house,
For those braces for son Drew.
I am walking a bit much slower,
My legs and feet have pain.
How much longer do I have too work,
I was'nt looking at doing this again!
Retirement is not as our Fathers' knew,
When they retired, and sailed the oceans blue!
Mom and Dad got a ticket and traveled,
They enjoyed those Golden Years,
Only enjoyed and known by few!
Is this all there is?
Because I wanted to enjoy my end years with you,
I guess I'll make the best of what we've got,
You have me, and I'm blessed to have you!
poem by Linda Winchell
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Retired holy man
We can retire from employment
if we find financial success.
But ever heard of retirement
from a life of spiritual bliss.
It seems today to be the popular
thing to do.
No more re-incarnations or
miracles for you.
Do not be waking me on Sunday
or asking to pray for your troubles.
I will be walking in the garden
or in the back yard blowing bubbles.
Tired of all your misery
and whining all day long.
The sages are retiring
no more banging on the gong.
Get your life together
make due with what you got.
The holy man
is retiring- this is not an evil plot.
No more sacred oblations
No more absolution off the shelve.
If you want forgiveness you
will have to forgive yourself.
Please blow out the
candles and make a donation if you can.
I will be fishing in the ocean
your friend and guru, retired holy man.
poem by Saint Eule
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Were A Carpenter
If I were a carpenter and you were a lady
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?
If I worked my hands in wood
I wonder would you still love me?
I say yes, I would, I'll put you above me
That's what I want you to say
And would you save my love from loneliness,
Would you save my love from sorrow, if you would
I give you my onlyness, girl and all of my tomorrows
If a tinker were my trade, would you still find me?
Carrying the pots and the pans that I made,
Walking along the highway
That long lonely highway
If I was a carpenter, and you were a lady
And I was just a carpenter,
Instead of a rock and roll star
Just a carpenter
A carpenter
A carpenter
song performed by by Bob Seger
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
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The company accountant is shy and retiring. He's shy a quarter of a million dollars. That's why he's retiring.
quote by Milton Berle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Five Long Years
(by eddie boyd)
Have you ever been mistreated? you know just what Im talking about.
Have you ever been mistreated? you know just what Im talking about.
I worked five long years for one woman, she had the nerve to put me out.
I got a job in a steel mill, shucking steel like a slave.
Five long years, every friday I come straight back home with all my pay.
Have you ever been mistreated? you know just what Im talking about.
I worked five long years for one woman, she had the nerve to put me out.
I finally learned my lesson, should a long time ago.
The next woman that I marry, she gonna work and bring me the dough.
Have you ever been mistreated? you know just what Im talking about.
I worked five long years for one woman, she had the nerve,
She had the nerve,
She had the nerve,
She had the nerve to put me out.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Workaholic
He retired from his job on his sixty fifth birthday
But he did not enjoy the work free life
And he died just nine months into his retirement
To be mourned by his family and his wife.
It has been said he was a workaholic
And that he was one who worked as hard as two
And he felt bored without a job to go to
And he pined away as many like him do.
His problem was he did not have a hobby
And a working life the life he loved and knew
A good man for his wife and family and his Country
But good men just like bad men must die too.
For forty seven years he worked for the same employers
And to the end to his bosses was true
His parting gift from them a wrist watch and box of chocolates
And a well done and a shake hands and thank you.
He must have been one who truly liked his bosses
To have worked for them for forty seven years
His last day on the job it was his saddest
And as he left he fought to choke the tears.
His problem was that he did not have a hobby
And he only lived for each working day
And when he left the workforce in his sixties
He fell into ill health and pined away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Retirement
You work all your life and you wait for that special day
That you can retire, and dance the night away.
Anxiety and tension building Up in your chest.
You know you can’t control it But you do your very best.
Friends are gathering around you And they’re calling your name
You are now a short timer And they’re waiting for the same.
You think that you won’t have to Get up to the sound of the clock
But when you retire, there is no turning back.
For the first time in your life You are not on a time schedule.
To get up to that sound Wash up, get dressed, have a cup of joe.
And the weight in your legs Make you move very slow.
Your friends and co workers ask:
How can you leave them all behind?
You look at them and smile For you know they’ll all be fine.
You’ve worked together for many a year
Good times, bad times, you all have shared.
But it’s time for you to go your way You have to leave, you can not stay.
So many things that you want to do And to your heart you must be true.
So you work your final day and Get comments from everyone you know.
You will count the hours leading to the end
For you know that they have become family and very close friends.
That will be the hardest part, because memories can not be erased.
Especially when you have friends, who have style and grace.(Hmmm I wonder.)
RETIREMENT-hmmmm-is it all it’s played out to be!
Or is it just plain LAZZZ-EEE?
WELL! I’ll take the laziness any time. Ha-ha
poem by Louis Rams
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Every time I try to retire, or even think of retiring from acting, my agent comes up with a script.
quote by Anthony Hopkins
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Jean Hickey
Jean Hickey than me is a few years older I knew her long before she met and married Ted O Shea
And she went to live in Finnanefield in Kilcorney from Inchaleigh in Millstreet five or six miles away
I have not seen her for years but her I will remember until the reaper gives the call to me
Good people like her one does not wish to forget and she did not fade from my memory.
Jean Hickey always is the quiet achiever the quiet achiever in her own quiet way
She has helped so many people in their times of illness though of her good deeds she never has much to say
A nurse who is devoted to her calling and in her kind heart there is only good
And people like her invaluable to society for she would only help you if she could.
In the year 06 she will retire as a District Nurse and from the call of duty she will have earned her rest
And it will take a special person to replace her for at her job she is one of the best
But as we know people do not last forever and retirement one day comes to one and all
Though Jean she played her part and in no small way and she was there to answer every call.
In the year 06 from Nursing she's retiring one well might say a rest she is overdue
Jean Hickey always is the quiet achiever and to the corporal works of mercy she is true
In her years as district nurse she has cared for many ill people and the story of her life ought to be told
And of this marvellous woman it can be said that she is truly worth her weight in gold.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I don't see myself ever retiring, unless it's for something that I like better, and so far I like directing a lot but I don't see the necessity to retire from anything unless there's a really great alternative.
quote by Angelica Houston
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I don't see myself ever retiring, unless it's for something that I like better, and so far I like directing a lot but I don't see the necessity to retire from anything unless there's a really great alternative.
quote by Anjelica Huston
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Work To Do!
i came from a generation
that worked.... was born to
work, daylight to dawn,
for everything we had.
we grew our own food, we
cut firewood, we worked
with our hands.
we were taught to work...
we built houses, bridges,
paved roads... worked on
farms, worked in sawmills,
worked in factories...
whatever it took for food
and shelter...
and if a neighbor got hurt,
or sick, and couldnt work...
we helped him and his family
till he could.
those of us left who can work
are still working, a lot of us are
out of work, and cant find work!
and so the world has changed...
it seems like a lot of people
spend more time avoiding work
than working... a lot of people
look for the easy way out...are
dependent on society...
still a lot of good and willing people
just need help.
they call this progress...based
on technology, and looking out for
number one. seperated, almost islands...
greed has taken the place of the bent back!
so when it all falls apart, and that will
be soon, what happens? who knows how
to survive? who has the backbone?
things to think about, and yes...
work to do!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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My father was a carpenter, a very good carpenter. He also worked for the Jones boys. They were not family members, we weren't related at all. They started the policy racket in Chicago, and they had the five and dime store.
quote by Quincy Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Macabre (A Poem From MTE)
Stillness of quiet countenance
Sleep ebbs to slumber
Time pauses
For life is almost to pass.
Still conscious
But retiring
To letting go
For knowing what lies ahead
Is rest eternal.
Peace, at long last
Consume my being
Pain no more
Of this life unending.
Whiteness of pure bless
My soul will rest.
I shall not think
Nor wonder
Neither strives
For the time has come
For me to cross the unknown
The west is calling
The amber sun retiring
But darkness not to welcome
But light encompassing
Come all you who passed
This portal of completeness
And welcome this poor
Wretched sinner.
To your indwelling
Let us rejoice and praise
This mysterious destination
For I know I will reside
In His all loving compassion.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ticket To The Moon
Remember the good old 1980s?
When things were so uncomplicated?
I wish I could go back there again
And everything could be the same.
Ive got a ticket to the moon
Ill be leaving here any day soon
Yeah, Ive got a ticket to the moon
But Id rather see the sunrise in your eyes.
Got a ticket to the moon
Ill be rising high above the earth so soon
And the tears I cry might turn into the rain
That gently falls upon your window
Youll never know.
Chorus:
Ticket to the moon (ticket to the moon)
Ticket to the moon (ticket to the moon)
Ticket to the moon (ticket to the moon).
Fly, fly through a troubled sky
Up to a new world shining bright, oh, oh.
Flying high above
Soaring madly through the mysteries that come
Wondering sadly if the ways that led me here
Could turn around and I would see you there
Standing there (and I would see you there, waiting...)
Ticket to the moon
Flight leaves here today from satellite two
As the minutes go by, what should I do?
I paid the fare, what more can I say?
Its just one way (only one way)...
Repeat chorus:
Repeat chorus:
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ticket On A Ferry Ride
By jeff barry and bobby bloom
I got a ticket on a ferry ride.
I got a ticket and it hurts inside.
I wonder if she knows
That I dont really want to go, oh no
I still love her so.
I got a ticket on a ferry ride.
I got a ticket and it hurts inside.
I never though the day
Would come when I would say good bye this way
Wanted so to stay.
I got a ticket on a ferry ride.
I still love her so.
Dont really wanna go.
I got a ticket on a ferry ride.
I got a ticket and it hurts inside.
I wonder if she knows
That I dont really have to go, oh no
I still love her so.
I got a ticket on a ferry ride.
I got a ticket and it hurts inside.
I got a ticket on a ferry ride.
I got a ticket and it hurts inside.
I got a ticket on a ferry ride, ah.
I got a ticket on a ferry ride (repeat).
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Admiration... For Those Who Work!
i have a deep admiration
for the common working people
of the world...
having lived among them,
worked and sweated with them,
i sing their struggle!
farmers toiling day and night,
nurses pulling double shifts.
factory workers doing time and again,
carpenters and masons building.
black and white and all colors,
working their lives by faith.
and immigrants, often called illegal,
(though no human beings are illegal!) ...
who come here and work for whatever wage,
trying to build a dream for their families.
let us not forget women,
too often underpaid and treated as less...
truckdrivers, and those who work the docks,
steel workers, cooks, and trash collectors...
all leave me in awe...
there are many who cant work,
these should always be taken care of.
but the ones that could work if they would work,
who can work, and wont...
well... i have a problem there!
i was taught to work as a child...
taught respect, dignity, and honesty...
and so i believe, and so i live...
in admiration for those who work!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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
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Kiwi Dave
For forty five years I've been working and I'm just an unfettered slave
And I have gray hairs to show for it I am quoting Kiwi Dave
Five years to go to retirement I was sixty last birthday
And ever since I've started working it's been uphill all the way.
My ex wife said that I was a drinker that I was too fond of the booze
That was her excuse for leaving she said I was born to lose
But I take it in moderation after work three or four beers
And I've been a slave for her and for my children for close to if not twenty years.
Fifteen years ago she left me and she went to live with younger bloke
She got more than half my assets for years to her haven't spoke
She turned my son and daughter against me and my six grandchildren I don't see
And I will spend my usual Christmas on my own watching T.V.
Kiwi Dave is a good person though just a little soured by life
And things for him would have been better had he had a faithful wife
'A woman she can make or break you' with that who could disagree
Dave could see the truth in those words for who would know better than he? .
For forty five years he's been working the hard worker Kiwi
Dave
And for his ex wife and his children for years he has been a slave
He looks older far than sixty the hard life has made him gray
Five more years left till retirement it's been uphill all the way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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