Related quotes: I got up this morning...

Talking Ambition

I got up this morning and the dim
pink in the distant sky
made the drooping willow tree
some unknown color, as the world,
bathed in mystery, slowly, drowsily awoke,

and I set out upon its pathways
in my car, following a winding back road
that led to another road,
that let to many others, so you know
I could have wound up anywhere.

Gazing out at the pink sky
and the willow and the hills beyond,
I saw no limits to joy
except the one thought:
'I've got to go back to work soon! '
That's after these four days off,
four unbounded days to explore,

but come Thursday I run into a wall,
faraway as yet, but you know how these things are,
limits arrive speeding down time's freeway,

and I thought, 'If only
I were making my living as an author,
I could dream beautiful dreams
and be given livelihood,

and 'work' would not be work,
any more than a fountain
works to bring forth waters,

and I would work in the morning,
many hours, and then walk around
among the people and animal and plants,
all lovable figures in God's great Dream,

and I can see myself as a fountain of joy,
as happy as a person can be,
a fountain whose waters give life and health
and show the way
to the Source of water

poem by Max Reif
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Related quotes

The Willow Tree

I am a Willow Tree, that sways gently in the wind
I am a Willow Tree, who has no limits.

I am a Willow Tree, who has long and beautiful branches
I am a Willow Tree, who provides shade and comfort.

I am a Willow Tree, who can be placed anywhere
I am a Willow Tree, I whisper in the wind.

I am a Willow Tree, you think I'm very free
I am a Willow Tree, don't ever want to be me.

poem by Lucy Gocher
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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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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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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Writing for a past me, so that she might leave in peace.

There are days I write for a past me; a me hiding within this shell beneath a mask; a me that pushes my back against these cavernous wall, hoping, secretly, that they would finally cave in. The death of the person I used to once call me, hiding in there now, might be the best thing to happen yet.

She whispers in her tormented sleep that she's sorry. -For the aches, the pains, the hurt, the loss; that she would take it back if only she could, but hopes nonetheless that the more painful lessons of life have taught me well and remain with me still. She won't ask me to mourn her loss, as much as it hurts her to have her unremembered, but I see it in her eyes and mine that there will be days that I troupe back to pay my respects to this fountain -This fountain that learned to spill blood and sweat and tears amidst guilt, hard work and grit; I will remember it even as it splutters its last.

Perhaps I might consciously learn to forget, but somehow I feel I will spend days waking to find mementos picked up in my half-wandering sleep.

poem by Mandy Lee
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The Lonely Willow Tree

THAT LONELY WILLOW TREE

God made this Earth,
The Sun... The Air.
He placed it all
Into Man's care.

On it He placed
Flowers and trees
In beautiful colors,
Man's eyes to please.

But when He thought
His work was done,
He added this....
A tree.....Just one.

He planted here
A Willow Tree,
Where Man could pray
On bended knee.

But now when Man
Neglects to come,
He named this tree
The weeping one.

Near a stream
Where no one will be
There stands a lonely
Weeping Willow Tree.

And when you see
It's branches weep,
You know that from
God's eyes....
....................Tears do Seep.

Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
6-22-1979

By Ms. Caroline

poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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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.’

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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The Night Cometh

Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the morning hours;
Work! while the dew is sparkling;
Work! 'mid the springing flowers;
Work! while the day grows brighter,
Under the glowing sun;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man's work is done.

Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the sunny noon;
Fill the bright hours with labour,
Rest cometh sure and soon.
Give to each flying minute
Something to keep in store;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man works no more.

Work! for the night is coming;
Under the sunset skies,
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work! for the daylight flies;
Work! till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work! while the night is darkening,--
Night, when man's work is o'er.

poem by Annie Louisa Walker
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What for is money?

I thought on how could be the life
Without having to work for money.
After all this is the money which we work for.

Had we only have enough money to spend
We won’t have to toil our body or brain.
Solution also seemed very easy to me.

Just have a lot of mints to mint money.
Make as much money as may people need
Give them as much as may people want.

All problems are seemingly soon gone.
The root of all evils I thought could be
the root of happiness of all kind instead.

“How could this easy way out be overlooked? ”
Thinking furthermore I thought.
We need mints and we need paper and ink.

We need banks and a lot of ATMs.
People will get money and go for shopping
So we need ample shops. In shops we need products.

We need make shops and we need make products.
but we also need people to run them.
So some people will make paper and some ink.

Some other will work in mints and banks.
Some will work in shops and making products.
Rest all the people will only happily buy things.

Thinking up to here my thought jumbled.

People needed money so they worked.
If money was available for doing no work
Then why should there be anyone to work?

If no one works then where from comes paper and ink?
Where from comes money, banksand ATMs?
Where from then comes products?

Without products how could then we live and enjoy?

So we need products and for products we need to work,
to get people into the works we need money.
So it was that money could not be made free.

I thought 'People have already thought it before me.'

poem by Palas kumar Ray
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Like A Fountain Of Water

Like a fountain of water

Kissing you throughout

Work!

Work or no luck
If you don't have work
You get killed sitting still
Work or no luck
If you have too much work
You get killed struggling still
Work or no luck
If you finish fast
You get killed killing time
Work or no luck
If you don't finish on time
You get finished on time
Work or no luck
If you do well
You get recognized well
Work or no luck
If you do not do well
You get the pink paper wall
Work or no luck
If you are organized
You finish it on time
Work or no luck
If you are disorganized
You get finished on time
Work or no luck
If you are interested
Toughest becomes easy
Work or no luck
If you are not interested
Easiest thing becomes toughest
Work or no luck
If you are carving
You keep doing it great
Work or no luck
If you are not carving
You keep doing it a trait
Work or no luck
If you have work
You have luck
Work or no luck
If you have work
Still nothing to do
You have no luck
That's the fate of
Work or luck! ! ! !

poem by Umasree Raghunath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work

Keep your fingers busy
Mentally or physically
What four-letter word
Dyou know like ...
Look at me smile
Look at me doing their
Work
Ysee me shuffle in the dirt
My how I sweat
But I dont mind
Cause its work
You got me rolling up my shirt
Theres all my old friends
Sat by the fountain drinking beer
Their days have no starts and no ends
They drift into pub nights with no
Promise for tomorrow
All that they want is some
Work
Work
Look at me smile
Look at me polish these
Tools
Am I breaking all the rules?
A cycle like that
I dont want to be late for school
Well its night school
Now all my new friends
Sit in their [site] huts drinking tea
My day has no start and no ends
Drifts into whole nights in my
Coffin by the fireside
Bugger this game
I know whos to blame
And thats
Work
Aw, work
Keep your fingers busy
Mentally or physically
What four-letter word
Dyou know like
Oh! work, work
Oh! work, work
Im back with my old friends
Sat by the brunel drinking beer
Dont want this to ever end
Were living in fear of being
Mizzled by a new myth
Work
I dont want to go to work
Work
I dont want to go to work

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Great Expectations

(eric carmen)
Seems everyday
Im gettin harder pressed
To find a reason to shave
Watchin the hours
Just slippin away
No motivation to get out of bed
And carry on the charade
Caught in a dream thats goin astray
Oh, all those great expectations
Seems they never work out, never work out
The way that I plan
All those great expectations
Why they never work out, never work out
I cant understand
And just when I think
That things are goin right
I get a call from l.a.
Sorry to say were changin your song
I try to reason
But I cant get through
Theyre gonna do it their way
What can I say
Theyve never been wrong
Oh, all those great expectations
Seems they never work out, never work out
The way that I plan
All those great expectations
Why they never work out, never work out
I cant understand
Life is just a game of chance
I think somebody said so
Sometimes you get a hula hoop
Sometimes you get an edsel
Oh, all those great expectations
Seems they never work out, never work out
The way that I plan
All those great expectations
Why they never work out, never work out
I cant understand

song performed by by Eric Carmen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A man with a pink umbrella

Pink day
Pink hedge
Pink porch
Pink balcony
Pink woman
Pink ghost on a pink road!
Pink door
Pink hello
Pink dream
Pink sparrow
Pink night

poem by Framarz Bagheri
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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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The Country Of Marriage

I dream of you walking at night along the streams
of the country of my birth, warm blooms and the nightsongs
of birds opening around you as you walk.
You are holding in your body the dark seed of my sleep.

II.

This comes after silence. Was it something I said
that bound me to you, some mere promise
or, worse, the fear of loneliness and death?
A man lost in the woods in the dark, I stood
still and said nothing. And then there rose in me,
like the earth's empowering brew rising
in root and branch, the words of a dream of you
I did not know I had dreamed. I was a wanderer
who feels the solace of his native land
under his feet again and moving in his blood.
I went on, blind and faithful. Where I stepped
my track was there to steady me. It was no abyss
that lay before me, but only the level ground.

III.

Sometimes our life reminds me
of a forest in which there is a graceful clearing
and in that opening a house,
an orchard and garden,
comfortable shades, and flowers
red and yellow in the sun, a pattern
made in the light for the light to return to.
The forest is mostly dark, its ways
to be made anew day after day, the dark
richer than the light and more blessed,
provided we stay brave
enough to keep on going in.

IV.

How many times have I come to you out of my head
with joy, if ever a man was,
for to approach you I have given up the light
and all directions. I come to you
lost, wholly trusting as a man who goes
into the forest unarmed. It is as though I descend
slowly earthward out of the air. I rest in peace
in you, when I arrive at last.

Our bond is no little economy based on the exchange
of my love and work for yours, so much for so much
of an expendable fund. We don't know what its limits are--
that puts us in the dark. We are more together
than we know, how else could we keep on discovering
we are more together than we thought?
You are the known way leading always to the unknown,
and you are the known place to which the unknown is always
leading me back. More blessed in you than I know,
I possess nothing worthy to give you, nothing
not belittled by my saying that I possess it.
Even an hour of love is a moral predicament, a blessing
a man may be hard up to be worthy of. He can only
accept it, as a plant accepts from all the bounty of the light
enough to live, and then accepts the dark,
passing unencumbered back to the earth, as I
have fallen tine and again from the great strength
of my desire, helpless, into your arms.

VI.

What I am learning to give you is my death
to set you free of me, and me from myself
into the dark and the new light. Like the water
of a deep stream, love is always too much. We
did not make it. Though we drink till we burst
we cannot have it all, or want it all.
In its abundance it survives our thirst.
In the evening we come down to the shore
to drink our fill, and sleep, while it
flows through the regions of the dark.
It does not hold us, except we keep returning
to its rich waters thirsty. We enter,
willing to die, into the commonwealth of its joy.

VII.

I give you what is unbounded, passing from dark to dark,
containing darkness: a night of rain, an early morning.
I give you the life I have let live for the love of you:
a clump of orange-blooming weeds beside the road,
the young orchard waiting in the snow, our own life
that we have planted in the ground, as I
have planted mine in you. I give you my love for all
beautiful and honest women that you gather to yourself
again and again, and satisfy--and this poem,
no more mine than any man's who has loved a woman.

poem by Wendell Berry
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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Waking

WAKING

There are so many dreams no one ever realizes
We wake and try to understand where we are
What we have done in all the years seems folly
Nothing can justify this morning or the day to come
We have forgotten who we are and where we have been
The prayer that helps us and connects us back to God
Revives
We begin to live or try to begin to live
Our names are not known and our work uncelebrated
Our songs are not sung and our labors not blessed
We look out and up at the sky and feel light
We do not know how or why or in what way
But we understand that God has given mornings to begin again
We will take the first step and word and taste and sound
And all we feel and be will begin to revive
We will connect ourselves again with where we are
We will begin to work
And as the day slowly comes back to us we will come back to ourselves
Every day is a new beginning and a world G-d will make
We too are that world and that beginning
In all the many days of blessings and the years of this life
God has enabled us to begin again
This time now too is now different
And these words say we are here now for this morning
So long as this morning is in us.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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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Bussing to Work

Sitting on a boring bus to work,
I dream and stare and read,
grey morning light suffuses us,
we users of this beast
Stops come and go, take people on,
and deposits those who leave.
For destinations unknown,
and of no interest, to me.

Work lies ahead, sleep stays behind,
My missed compatriot.
And you are on your bus to work,
Missed more yet than that.
You sit there in your grey lit suit,
I hope you think of me
Minutes away, so close behind,
I left you on our stop.

Waking up in your arms, so warm,
Still all I want to feel
In mornings cold and busy days,
I think of you and me.
How after this long day of work,
We’ll share togetherness and then
Tomorrow morning after showering
I’ll leave you at the stop again.

poem by Kevin Linnekamp
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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