His Ambition
To be a Civil Servant
was his aim,
Master of The Royal Mint
a little bit of fame!
After all he was a graduate
on a list you'll see his name.
His ambition was to be
a Civil Servant.
But a sudden gust of romance
came along, wooed him with
an Oklahoma love song.
The thought of previous
plans and schemes
melted into idle dreams.
He no longer wished to be
a Civil Servant.
His imagination strayed to
the Church and to the Altar.
His ambition now...to wed
the rich man's daughter.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Related quotes
I Am A Civil Servant
I am a civil servant
That's not my real name
I am a baptised civil servant
This name puts bread on my table
I am a civil servant
Codified to obey a set of rules
Straight-jacketed to obey my masters
For a monthly stipend as a reward
I am a civil servant
Ordained to oil the engine of politicians
Who lords their policies on me
To serve like a chef at a banquet
I am a civil servant
My sobriquet is a bureaucrat
I am constantly accused of red-tapism
'Cos of my insistence on procedures
I am a civil servant indeed
My masters blame me for any misdemeanor
My people accuses me of collusion
I am just a scape goat at both ends
I am a civil servant par excellence
I am just a loyal and dutiful citizen
No nation can survive without me
Yet I am hardly appreciated
I am seen as rodent in a farmland
I am always available to serve my country
I am ready to serve the political divides
I am an uunbiased umpire
Soldier go, soldier come
The barrack is immovable
I am a loyal civil servant
Used like fresh rain water in the morning
Thrown away as dirty water at night
Condemned to paltry periodical pension
To survive for the rest of my life
That's my reward for being a loyal servant
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Be arrogant to stay put.
A passionate servant served his Master,
Attending his needs no less than anyone,
And for him, fought the Eagle in the battle,
But by the Master was overthrown ill,
And was put to the claw of the same Eagle,
Who crept in, to replace the servant.
Where lies the error of judgment?
Squarely upon the ill-fated servant.
A faithful servant to the faithless Master.
Had he been a fraud, the Master might mind.
(M. Karunanithi, the servent, was defeated in the Assembly Election thoroughly by ADMK headed by Jayalalitha.)
27.05.2001, Pmdi.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You can't be a Red if you're married to a civil servant.
quote by Doris Lessing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Easier to Digest
Civil unrest
Civil war
Civil chaos
Or...
My personal favorite,
Civil disobedience!
Which of these has more flavor...
And yet caffeine free?
More taste,
And yet less filling?
'I vote we go with civil unrest!
It's easier to digest...
And maintains that robust appeal.'
Now we are getting somewhere!
And you George...
What would you like?
~Just pass me the vodka!
No rocks! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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He who is hungry is never a good civil servant.
It's the most rewarding thing to be a civil servant.
quote by Sargent Shriver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A civil servant doesn't make jokes.
quote by Eugene Ionesco
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet: Master-servant Relationship
Where Master cares for servant’s welfare too
And treats him like a fellow-man at least,
And twain help each other to grow and woo,
The Master can never become a beast.
Where servant earns his master’s goodwill first,
By doing duty, uttering no word,
The Master cannot ever turn his worst,
Nor any time from hilt remove his sword!
Thus, master, servant is inseparable;
One thinks about the other all the time;
And love is born strong like in a fable,
With other’s help, each makes his life sublime.
Think of the other’s needs much more than self,
And never work for worldly acclaim/pelf.
7-26-2002
poem by John Celes
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A servant of God has but one Master. It ill becomes the servant to seek to be rich, and great, and honored in that world where his Lord was poor, and mean, and despised.
quote by George Muller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'Holy Servant
Oh Holy Servant of God
The pathways of earth You trod
walked with mankind healing the blind
Oh Holy Servant of God
Oh Holy Servant of God
the hill of Calvary You trod
and from that cross You saved the lost
Oh Holy Servant of God
Oh Holy Servant of God
all the way to the grave You trod
and from that grave reached out to save
Oh Holy Servant of God
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
The Civil War
What in the world is a Civil War?
There's nothing civil about it.
Is it just a metaphor?
You say one thing and mean another.
You take up sides and kill your brother.
And that my friends
is civil?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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God Servant
temple free
god was waiting
for is servant
servant was
not come
god also sad...
servant will bee comes
good happy...
why...?
god only no
i don't no
YOU no...
tell me to god
and me...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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If a servant strives to please his master and studies and takes pains to do it, I believe there are but few masters who would use such a servant cruelly.
quote by Jupiter Hammon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Apologies
Master, this is Thy Servant. He is rising eight weeks old.
He is mainly Head and Tummy. His legs are uncontrolled.
But Thou hast forgiven his ugliness, and settled him on Thy knee . . .
Art Thou content with Thy Servant? He is
very
comfy with Thee.
Master, behold a Sinner? He hath committed a wrong.
He hath defiled Thy Premises through being kept in too long.
Wherefore his nose has been rubbed in the dirt, and his self-respect has been bruiséd.
Master, pardon Thy Sinner, and see he is properly looséd.
Master - again Thy Sinner! This that was once Thy Shoe,
He hath found and taken and carried aside, as fitting matter to chew.
Now there is neither blacking nor tongue, and the Housemaid has us in tow.
Master, remember Thy Servant is young, and tell her to let him go!
Master, extol Thy Servant! He hath met a most Worthy Foe!
There has been fighting all over the Shop - and into the Shop also!
Till cruel umbrellas parted the strife (or I might have been choking him yet).
But Thy Servant has had the Time of his Life - and now shall we call on the vet?
Master, behold Thy Servant! Strange children came to play,
And because they fought to caress him, Thy Servant wentedst away.
But now that the Little Beasts have gone, he has returned to see
(Brushed - with his Sunday collar on) what they left over from tea.
Master, pity Thy Servant! He is deaf and three parts blind,
He cannot catch Thy Commandments. He cannot read Thy Mind.
Oh, leave him not in his loneliness; nor make him that kitten’s scorn.
He hath had none other God than Thee since the year that he was born!
Lord, look down on Thy Servant! Bad things have come to pass,
There is no heat in the midday sun, nor health in the wayside grass.
His bones are full of an old disease - his torments run and increase.
Lord, make haste with Thy Lightnings and grant him a, quick release!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Joy of lamentation
A mistress, the modest, disengaged her servant,
Though he managed her wishes to perfection,
For he had left her for a while. Ardent
Was she to have a substitute in her vocation.
The servant, in his exile, in disarray went
And, stake-less, strayed for his salvation.
Neither of them, in new arena, was content.
Both of them lamented over their ill-action.
16.09.2000, Plkmd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My father was a civil servant, fairly sort of middle ranking, low to middle ranking. He worked almost entirely in what was then called Administrative Labour, dealing with employment and unemployment issues.
From the diary of a Dowager
She is still smart in her forties and lives in her manor childless.
The land, poultry, vineyard and the whole wealth,
She holds from her deceased husband.
The old parents and the servants lived together.
Her brother-in-law, husband's elder brother
Who was a retired war veteran a senile lives behind the manor in the old haystack.
She doesn't like to marry again and refused all the proposals the parents brought.
'I live my entire life in single' She grumbled.
The classical music gives her courage to pass the time.
Her senile brother-in-law who died in sleep and they buried him near by the haystack.
Exactly after a fortnight of the funeral the complaint was made by a servant that she was pregnant by the deceased Master.
The lady was shocked and she is very kind and promised the servant to adopt the child after the birth.
She adopts the servant's beautiful daughter.
And the servant took hands the old Gardner?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Too Much
As a slave observes his master and so grows
Familiar in his ways (though still in fee)
I have studied Love to bend his blows
Hoping, eventually, to be free:
Meet his every visit with reproaches
When he calls you quickly, quickly tarry
Never seek him, wait till he approaches
Leaving banks where he is known to dally.
Learn to become the Master's master
Master cast as servant of the servant's
Remember Love evaporates the faster
Proportionate to how you offer urgence.
But if you're sick of peace and sanity
Feel free to disregard this monody.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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More for the Money
What are the wild waves saying now that their lengths are changed?
In a manner most dismaying are the stations now aranged.
And I twist and twirl and twiddle at the knobs, then, with a screech
Come sounds of a sobbing fiddle and a League of Nations speech,
Or the Abyssinian crisis with the football field's alarms,
Or the fat stock market prices mixed up with stuff by 'Brahms.'
More for my money truly in these daft days I get.
Since the waves become unruly and the solo's a duet:-
From 3HA and 3DB, or 3LO and 7NT,
From 3AR and 5CK. Sounds mingle in the cutest way:
'You are listening now . . . to a song by Bach . . .
On the Jersey cow . . . 'Hahk, Hahk, the Lahk!'
On the cult of the tomato . . .
My cutie says . . . Scratched for the Cup . . .
Von Plonken plays . . . Prime wethers up . . .
With a 'cello obligato . . .'
What are the wild waves saying, now that their paths o'erlap?
And the trumpet's brazen braying breaks in on the solemn chap
Who tell the listening nation how flames of war arise;
But a strident Sydney station yells, 'Smoke gets in your eyes.'
And you'll note if you're observant that, spite of all you say,
Your boss, the Civil Servant, goes on his own sweet way;
He deplores the sad disaster when your set so misbehaves;
But the servant rules the master, and choas rules the waves.
From 3HA and 3DB, from 3LO and 7NT,
From 3AR and 5CK. Sounds mingle in the quaintest way.
But in a while you cease to smile,
For the thing's no longer funny.
Listener, be wise. Pray, realise
You get more for your money.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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We are losing each day an average 50 to 60 people throughout the country, if not more. If this is not civil war, then God knows what civil war is.
quote by Iyad Allawi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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