Poker Face
Someone must have told him years ago that smiling is a crime
And I've never once heard him to laugh though I've known him for some time
He always wears a serious look they call him poker face
It would seem that in his sad heart for joy there isn't space.
He is not the type of person that one could talk to at length
But one thing he has going for him his silence is his strength
A batchelor in his fortieth year and that's how he will stay
In female company he seems lost and stuck for words to say.
He is one who doesn't work to live he lives for to work only
And he is one without a friend he must be very lonely
He doesn't smoke or drink or talk of sports his work his sole interest
But we all are different one must suppose we like what suits us best.
He always has a serious look he never laugh or smile
But he is an honest sort of a bloke free of conceit or guile
Apart from his job a hobby he doesn't have, a book he's never read
He rises before dawn for work and he goes early to bed.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dont Talk To Me About Work
A perfect day to get out of bed
Shower, dress, shave, kiss you on the head
Then I hit the office and my head starts to swim
A perfect day to just walk around
See a violent movie, check the sounds
But even on the street
When I hear a phone ring my heart starts to beat
When I get home I dont want you to speak
Dont talk to me about work
Please dont talk to me about work
Im up to my eyeballs in dirt
With work, with work
How many dollars, how many sales
How many liars, how many tales
How many insults must you take in this one life
Im in prison most of the day
So please excuse me, if I get this way
But I have got obligations to keep
So be very careful when you speak
Dont talk to me about work
Please dont talk to me about work
Im up to my eyeballs in dirt
With work, with work
Please dont talk to me about work
Dont you talk to me about work
Im up to my eyeballs in dirt
With work, with work
Dont talk to me about work
Dont you talk to me about work
Dont you talk to me about work
Please dont talk to me about work
Dont you talk to me about work
Please dont talk to me about work
Dont you talk to me about work
Please dont talk to me about work
Dont you talk to me about work
Please dont talk to me about work
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fellow Who Doesn't Fit In
He doesn't play sports drink alcohol or take dope and you might say he doesn't fit in
And he doesn't lust after young women and he's not seen as a man amongst men
He works hard to provide for his family and he leads a good and a clean life
And he is a nice man to talk to and he is faithful to his wife.
He's not a religious type person and he doesn't attend church on sunday
And he too in some ways a sinner the religious zealots might say
And some see him as a social outsider but to live clean should not be a sin
And he deserve respect not scorn the fellow who doesn't fit in.
He doesn't watch football on the t.v. or support any football team
And he's not part of any social club nor does he crave social esteem
Yet he has his many detractors in life it is so hard to win
And his type of man getting rarer the fellow who doesn't fit in.
He doesn't play cricket or football with his children as many a young father do
On sundays with his wife and his young son and daughter he's at the cinema, art gallery or zoo
And he is a man who loves Nature and is loving Nature a sin?
For he is looked on with suspicion the fellow who doesn't fit in.
Politics, women, money and work matters of such topics he tend to stay clear
And he's just your average type of person his children and his wife to him dear
Yet he is looked on as quite boring and his name is mentioned with a grin
And life isn't meant to be easy for the fellow who 'doesn't fit in'
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dog Days of Summer
It’s a hot and lazy time of year
With temperatures rising high
A body doesn’t want to work
Doesn’t even want to try
It’s time to lie around and rest
Not exert much energy
It’s too hot to work but rather
We want to take it pretty easy
And if you do have to work
Either do it early in the morn
Or after the sun goes down
Sometime before the dawn
Oh how nice it feels
On these dog days of summer
When the sun drops down
The day has turned a bit cooler
So in the midst of winter time
When snow is on the hills
Dog days of summer sound
Kind of good amongst the chills!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Know a Girl
I have a friend that I have never met.
A friend of two people.
Of two lives.
One people see and one people don’t.
One writes of pain and heartache while the other,
Lives within.
She wants to be that person trapped inside,
although she doesn’t know her customs.
Her poetry consist of tears and heartbreak.
Yet, the only thing I see is,
The smile she brings to my face,
a great person to talk to,
cause she'll make you laugh,
even if you wanna cry.
I wonder how such a beautiful person,
Could be gray to so many people.
I wish I could tell her everything,
Is going to be O.K. in time of doubt.
But she is the one that has to dig into herself,
To figure out how to become that person,
She wants to be, she needs to be, and I know she is.
Her writing may be made of pain and weakness.
But all I see is,
A smile that makes everyone like her,
That has great strength to get her through hardships.
She is some one I tell my secrets too.
Someone that sees me for who I am,
The me without the mask,
The me with not such a smooth shall,
And is unsure about her next move.
I only show her this cause for almost a year,
She has always been there for me.
THAX ESPN CHICK you’re the best! ! ! !
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out Of Work
8 a.m. Im up and my feet beating on the sidewalk
Down at the unemployment agency, all I get is talk
I check the want ads but there just aint nobody hiring
Whats a man supposed to do when hes down and hes
Out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
I go to pick my girl up
Her name is linda brown
Her dad invites me in
He tells me to sit down
The small talk that were making
Is going pretty smooth
But then he drops a bomb
Son, what dya do ?
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Hey mr president I know you got your plans
Youre doing all you can now to aid the little man
We got to do our best to whip that inflation down
Maybe you got a job for me just driving you around
Im out of work
These hard times, theyre enough
To make a man lose his mind
Im out of work
Up there you got a job but down here below
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Friends VS. Best Friends
A Just Friend says.. hi, ..hello, ..bye, ... and walks away...
A Best friend always stop by your side & asks how Are You doing? ?
A Just Friend has never seen you cry.
A Best friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.
A Just Friend thinks the friendship is over, when you have an argument.
A Best friend knows that it's not a friendship, until after you've had a fight.
A Just Friend hates it when you call, after he has gone to bed.
A Best friend asks you.... why you took so long to call.
A Just Friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A Best friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.
A Just Friend expects you to be always there for any help.
A Best friend is always there, wherever you require any help.
A Just Friend doesn't have time in his/her busy schedule,
A Best friend always have time for you in his/her busy schedules....
A Just Friend phones you whenever he/she has some work,
A Best friend calls you often just to hear your voice.....
A Just Friend doesn't have anything to talk to you on phone,
A Best friend doesn't know...what all to finish...
poem by Hanae Meloul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I Was A Child I Believed
When I was a child
a very young child
I looked at the world
of adults in discussion
their patterns of interaction
their comments reactions
a very strange world
differences between what adults said
and what child were told
their masks worn
and I thought about what
they did and why?
Questions were asked
about what you wanted
to be when you grew up?
The work question was important,
but never asked was how well you
would do this work, and for who?
They were often silent or suddenly angry
‘children were to be seen but not heard’
the news to be listened to in serious silence.
First talk repeat their sounds
to smiles laughter
then don’t talk be silent listen?
First stand walk walk how far
then don’t walk stay wait
where your told don’t go away?
When adults met sometimes they would
start to talk a lot fast all at once not one
at a time and laugh a lot talk walk funny?
Why not be on their best behaviour
nice to others as they told children to be?
Why not choose to be good not bad?
Years later I would smile a lot why not
it costs nothing to smile and often others.
Would catch your smile and smile also?
Even when sad smiling was a good thing to do
to appreciate all you have been given.
Even though you could not always play with
what was given or go outside or play with friends.
Especially on those boring rainy days.
So many games were not allowed if you got dirty?
As a teenager smilie would be a nick name.
That smile given freely to people who needed
to smile but chose to be miserable instead!
It never cost anything to be nice to people either!
To give to help had its own record, it felt good!
Happy people are the nice people to be around!
I believed happiness was the most precious gift,
a person could give another, and if sad then to give,
happiness you did not have; was even more important.
Once in my early twenties I was surprised,
a friend said you cannot be that good,
no one is that good, but I knew I was not good.
At twenty-two when about to travel overseas,
my uncle said you think everyone is your friend,
be careful, everyone you meet; is not your friend.
Now I am older and sadly wiser,
yet I still know that to treat a stranger,
as a friend not a treat is still better.
That to say hello with a smile,
and wish people well,
is still a wonderful thing to do.
I still believe it is a better thing to do.
And when kindness is meet with hostility?
I feel pity for the hurt who choose to hurt.
It is not the right way.
It is not God’s way.
It is still not my way.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Down At The Arcade
A Perfect day to get out of bed
Shower, dress, shave, kiss you on the head
Then I hit the office and my head starts to swim
A perfect day to just walk around
See a violent movie and check the sounds
But even on the street when I hear a phone ring my heart starts to beat
When I get home I don't want you to speak
Don't talk to me about work
Please don't talk to me about work
I'm up to my eyeballs in dirt -
With work, with work
How many dollars
How many sales
How many liars
How many tales
How many insults must you take in this one life
I'm in prison most of the day
So please excuse me if I get this way
But I have got obligations to keep -
So be very careful when you speak
Don't talk to me about work
Please don't talk to me about work
I'm up to my eyeballs in dirt -
With work, with work
Don't talk to me about work
Please don't talk to me about work
I'm up to my eyeballs in dirt -
With work, with work
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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God’s At Work
Be still, be quiet and you shall see, the hand of The God of Eternity.
Just be still and know He is God, shepherding all with staff and rod.
He’s at work throughout your life; He’s the comfort in pain and strife.
And when a problem won’t relent, God is there with encouragement.
He’s at work in the darkest night; for God is for you that guiding light.
He guides you with a loving nod, protecting you on this earthly sod.
God’s at work in all of His own, as He guides us to an eternal home.
Even if you do not see God’s hand, simply be still then understand,
God doesn’t move like you or me, He moves throughout all eternity.
Starting before the beginning friend, and His presence will not end.
He doesn’t work on earthly time; God’s timely measures are Divine.
God’s been working in lives of men, since that pair was condemned.
God has been working to rectify, the problem created by Satan’s lie.
Friend it isn’t that God is slow, He’s just patient so that all can know,
The problem by Satan was rectified, on the cross, when Jesus died.
Now He’s at work in believers friend, helping others to comprehend,
The saving Truth of Jesus Christ, so that they can gain Eternal Life.
With a new life in Christ you’ll see, how He’s at work in you and me.
Let Christ Jesus in your heart, and a new work in you God will start.
God’s work will be done in ways, to fill your heart with eternal praise.
(Copyright ©02/2006)
I'm tired of hearing it said that democracy doesn't work. Of course it doesn't work. We are supposed to work it.
quote by Alexander Woollcott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For A While
Lost in day to day
turned another way
with a laugh, a kind hello
some small talk with those I know
I forget that I'm not over you
for a while
A wave an easy grin
a smile to put them in
with other lives to listen to
and some work I've got to do
I forget that I'm not over you
for a while
Days go buy with no empty feeling
until I remember you're gone
People say to me,you need company
when you have some time to spend
drop around and meet a friend
they forget that I'm not over you
for a while
they forget that I'm not over you
for a while
song performed by by Nina Simone
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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Writting
When i feel lost lonely and have nowhere to go,
the words keep me company and im a loner no more,
Letters come together in my minds free flowing from my
heart,
Two letters one letter many letters make up words,
Long words short word
bring up sentences that form up,
my concious wades throught them picking seeking to join
short and long and make it work,
No rules to my word play anything u want can stay a
concortion a work of art,
Am lost in emotions,
lost in expressions,
pronouns adjectives and nouns,
Lay them straight,
hang them down they still are need a flow to make a sweet
sound,
The rhyme,
the time is put into consideration when iplay with all my words,
My best friend is my pen, my paper and my head there is no limit to what i can,
Its a poem am at it a work of art in progress i love the work
of my hands...
poem by Kennedy Musyoka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work That Needs Doing… Later.
Work.
There is always work to be done.
Real work, busy work, work I make for myself.
But it doesn’t need doing right away.
And so I procrastinate.
It will bring stress later on
When it is multiplied.
But I’m okay with that.
Now, the real problem is
That I may take time now to relax and enjoy life,
But the thought of work still lingers
To trouble my mind
And prohibit relaxation.
And still I procrastinate.
Silence And I
(lead vocal - eric woolfson)
If i cried out loud
Over sorrows i've known
And the secrets i've heard
It would ease my mind
Someone sharing the load
But i won't breathe a word
We're two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
We'll find a way to work it out
While the children laughed
I was always afraid
Of the smile of the clown
So i close my eyes
Till i can't see the light
And i hide from the sound
We're two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
We'll find a way to work it out
I can hear the cry
Of the leaf on a tree
As it falls to the ground
I can hear the call
Of an echoing voice
And there's no one around
We're two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
We'll find a way to work it out
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silence & I
(lead vocal - eric woolfson)
If I cried out loud
Over sorrows Ive known
And the secrets Ive heard
It would ease my mind
Someone sharing the load
But I wont breathe a word
Were two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
Well find a way to work it out
While the children laughed
I was always afraid
Of the smile of the clown
So I close my eyes
Till I cant see the light
And I hide from the sound
Were two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
Well find a way to work it out
I can hear the cry
Of the leaf on a tree
As it falls to the ground
I can hear the call
Of an echoing voice
And theres no one around
Were two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
Well find a way to work it out
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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