Rural Diversity
Migrant workers..
From Texas to Wisconsin
Fifty years ago..
Coming to where the work
and dreams were plentiful.
A little ale and little sleep
This cultural diversity is a part of
our rural farming history
Past and Present
A young Texan hombre
Finding work and a little pay
Courting a senorita
both from the same tiny Texan town, Cotulla
They marry here in Wisconsin
Their offspring playing
in the fields of their toil.
Most went on to find jobs
in industry; living the blue collar life
making the steel harvesters
that promised to replace the manual labor.
Look in the fields today
Still they come,
but from farther borders
Fifty years later...
coming to where the work
and dreams still smell of promise.
Dedicated to Jose Charo, Sr and Alicia(Salvidar) Charo
in Celebration of their Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary
poem by Celia AmanteaSchulz
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Related quotes
People of Wisconsin
Years ago people settled in Wisconsin
from near and distant countries and for those who lived there before.
People from the past.., such rich diversity,
yet people still travel, here and there,
to and fro, everyday.
People from the past,
People from the present,
makes what Wisconsin is today.
poem by Alvin Schaut
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That Fifty Year Old Woman
That fifty year old woman
she is someones mother
that fifty year old woman
she is someones lover
them fifty years of her life
unseen by a cover.
Covered by the leaves
from the autumn trees is the grass
surrounded by blue tape
and nosey people who pretend to pass
a group of actors walk by
they have come from a history class
to make history new
with conversation with questions to ask.
A fifty year old woman
in an autumn so cold
a fifty year old woman
seen dark winter unfold
them fifty years of life
it is all we are told.
The actors, they didn't get any information
they did not get pictures
nothing known about the situation
nothing at all to discuss
fifty years of age is all thats said
on the morning paper on the fifty bus
thats all thats said
a fifty year old woman, shes found dead.
That fifty year old woman
shes not someones mother
that fifty year old woman
how she had no lover
them fifty years of life
unseen by a cover.
That fifty year old woman
she was quoted in the paper today
that fifty year old woman will be gone tomorrow
the writers they will show no sorrow
because its the way things work
as people pass
she no longer lies on grass
shes covered in dirt.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Johnsons Aeroplane
Four long lines one darker than the rest
Each one has a purpose making borders on the land
Farmers pride you know he works real hard
]from a small aeroplane you can see the fields
Heart shaped hedges
Japanese gardens
A place to work and grow
A place to work and grow
Four long years one leaner than the rest
The animals are fed and the pastures dry
Farmers pride if the weather doesnt lie
]from a small aeroplane you can see the sea
Lots of blue
Very deep blue
A place to work and grow
A place to work and grow
Johnson sees the fields from all the sides
Steel machines and black tar roads
Countryside where the spirit never dies
In his face all the history shows
Farmers pride as the rains came down
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dreams Are Coming True For me
Whatever I believe in
Dreams are coming true for me
All I do is be patient and wait
I work hard at it, with little help and support it happen
I'm a chef and a writer at last
Whatever I want to be
All I have to do is
Try my best and put hundred percent into what I do
Don't let people get in my way
I want work so hard to achieve my dreams
Keep trying and trying and it be worthwhile
I can do it and not let anyone get in my way
I'm strong and idependable
I can see myself in ten years
That I achieve my career and I reach my goals
I believe in myself
I don't try to get to excited because
It won't work and be back luck so
Watch out what you say, do or act
Dreams are coming true for me
Dreams are coming true for me
poem by Christina Phan
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Work
Work is what we have to do
to put food on the table
we work for years and years
that is until we are unable.
We are asked at school
what we want to be?
I remember telling the teacher
that I want to play football for Coventry.
There's all types of work to do
like in an office or a building site
if your lucky you can do sport
be a Boxer and get paid to fight.
But most of us don't do that
and often we do jobs that we hate
like working in a horrible factory
starting early and finishing late.
But some workers love their jobs
and rarely ever miss a day
they enjoy being there so much
they'd probably work for no pay.
Work is a big part of life
so best do something you like
earn vast amounts of money
buy a flash car instead of a bike.
So be happy wherever you work
no matter what job that may be
but most of us want to retire early
that's why we keep on doing the lottery!
poem by Kevin Halls
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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
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With Fingers Weary
With fingers weary
With eyelids heavy
I no longer lone for manual labor
Tho it be necessarily the thing to do
To work from nine to five
And work I say work for who?
This life long labor is all for you
My work is to say what I say to you
By the pen may it be made true.
poem by David E. Patton
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Metamorphosis
Country girl staring at the ceiling light
Softly scratching an old mosquito bite
Young hands so calloused and tanned
Praying that her parents will understand
Longing for a life without mud boots
Willing to forego the family roots
Can't wait to cut the apron string
Not content with the farming thing
Coming of age in rural America
Not every generation is a replica
Traveling gravel roads is so absurd
Wants a little Cape Cod in a suburb
Gouged out a plan during the night
Figured a way out of her plight
College would certainly set her free
Work nights while obtaining a degree
A Scholarship, grants, and a loan
Key to finding her Rosetta Stone
Four years and this rustic life will be alien
All with hard work and using the cranium
poem by Charles Hancock
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Fifteen Years Going Up
15 years together
We climbed by work and will
From a simple two room cottage
To a mansion on the hill
Now there's rose in the garden
But it's the coldest place in town
It took 15 years, goin up
And one night coming down
15 years of heaven
For one short night of sin
From blue skies forever
To an end
From out on a mountain
To both knees on the ground
15 years, goin up
And one night coming down
Her dreams have all been shattered
Her faith in my is gone
My tears tell her i'm sorry
But they can't write my wrong
One night wrote my story
How a man can lose it all
After 15 years goin up
It's hard to take a fall
15 years of heaven
For one short night of sin
From blue skies forever
To an end
From out on a mountain
To both knees on the ground
15 years, goin up
And one night coming down
I've been, 15 years goin up
And one night comin down
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fifteen Years Going Up (And One Night Coming Down)
15 years together
We climbed by work and will
From a simple two room cottage
To a mansion on the hill
Now theres rose in the garden
But its the coldest place in town
It took 15 years, goin up
And one night coming down
15 years of heaven
For one short night of sin
From blue skies forever
To an end
From out on a mountain
To both knees on the ground
15 years, goin up
And one night coming down
Her dreams have all been shattered
Her faith in my is gone
My tears tell her Im sorry
But they cant write my wrong
One night wrote my story
How a man can lose it all
After 15 years goin up
Its hard to take a fall
15 years of heaven
For one short night of sin
From blue skies forever
To an end
From out on a mountain
To both knees on the ground
15 years, goin up
And one night coming down
Ive been, 15 years goin up
And one night comin down
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Comfort in Talking Shop
there is a warmth that comes with the talk of work-
when two or more individuals converse about skills & their
prospective mutual context,
of which they may or may not have worked together in
for weeks, months or
years,
but which all parties speaking
know something about because they all hold relevant
experience
in the area being discussed-
people who genuinely work at their jobs,
whatever they may be,
are able to find a kind of sustenance in the work itself
which others may never find,
if they spend their whole lives
complaining
about every little thing it is that they do-
these individuals
may never know the comfort
which comes with discussing the simple nuances
of a job that is shared,
which brings with it no obligation except
the present work that is needed to be
done-
unlike other communities which members of a workplace may also be involved in,
together or alone,
the job
brings with it a sense of solidarity
that may be unique to our species
&
which can lead to discussions of past employment and
past experiences in our lives
revealing that our paths have led us to such a specific
juncture in time
wherein we now toil
together,
until that time when we part ways & move on.
poem by Andrew Delapruch
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Fifty Years On: for Bastille Day 3
It seemed to me the mortal wrong,
the crime that marked her wretched
lay not in anything she did
but what she had neglected
nor could the woes of centuries
be righted by this course
but die she must, for otherwise
she simply was to dangerous.
The tumbril slowly started down
her shoulders shook from view
through the mud the jeering crowd
followed in pursuit
I thought a moment-should I go?
but so much blood had flowed...
I had no special love for blood
and there was work to do.
Long ago that fateful hour-
today is fifty years
since centuries of hate devoured
centuries of fear.
Maybe better, maybe not
than fifty years ago
the world turns now-but I have got
no less of work to do.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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The single most important thing we can do today to ensure a strong, successful future for Wisconsin is invest in our kids early - because what we do now will determine what kind of state Wisconsin will be 10, 20, even 50 years from now.
Work! Work! And Reap!
Work! Work! Work! And Reap!
Work! Work! Work! And Sleep!
Everyday most of we work
Some of us love to work
Some of us just want to rock
Some of us want to lie on a beach or take a walk
If we had our way, we could spend all day and talk
But work we all must
Or our lifestyles will go bust!
We may then have to readjust
To unacceptable standards of living in disgust
Work! Work! Work! And Reap!
Work! Work! Work! And Sleep!
We all have different professions
Some of us have silent confessions
We fancy someone at work with an obsession
Work is then fun with a passion until confusion
Work! Work! Work! And Reap!
Work! Work! Work! And Sleep!
There are jobs that are monotonous
The atmosphere is negatively outrageous
Nothing in the air signifies hilarious
Every single person is always very serious
Sometimes played at work
Is the kind of politics
That makes one quite sick
This is where the strong kick
Kick hardest the backside of the weak
But work we all must
Or our lifestyles will go bust!
As we find ourselves lost
And then try hard to readjust
So do we swallow?
Or is fighting back shallow
Will it leave in your pocket a dent that is hollow?
Or produce a scene labeled horror
Enough to leave you in tears of sorrow
I don't have all the answers
I know work is a living cancer
People at work ought to be a little nicer
Everyone needs to make a living including a dancer!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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What we call creative work, ought not to be called work at all, because it isn't. I imagine that Thomas Edison never did a day's work in his last fifty years.
quote by Stephen Leacock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Travelogue #1-Western Siberian Wedding
Western Siberia,
Soviet Union dissolved,
Western capital welcome
oil projects abundant.
Old oil town, five story shelters, sandy streets.
One restaurant, good for all.
Reservations for Saturday
wedding underway, music playing, laughter.
We look at them, they look at us
could have been Wisconsin.
Dollars and rose to head table
two bottles of champaigne in return
we are part of the wedding party
we danced with the bride.
Leaving, father of the bride shook hands.
'Would you like a video of this evening?
One hundred fifty dollars.'
Nouveau riche, big bear alert, watch your shirt.
poem by Jim Norausky
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Long, Tall Texan
One, two, three, four
Giddy up
Giddy up
Well Im a long tall texan
I ride a big white horse
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Well Im a long tall texan
I ride a big white horse
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah is that your horse?
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Yeah
Well Im a long tall texan
I wear a ten gallon hat
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Well Im a long tall texan
I wear a ten gallon hat
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah is that your hat?
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Yeah
Well I was walkin down the street
With my shinin badge
My spurs jinglin down at my feet
I seen a man a comin
Comin with a gun
And I just cant be beat
Well Im a long tall texan
I enforce justice for the law
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)
Well Im a long tall texan
I enforce justice for the law
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah are you the law?
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is estimated that raising the retirement age to 70 would cut the shortfall by about 36%. But this proposal has some drawbacks. Women and men who have worked jobs that require manual labor all of their lives may not physically be able to do work until they are 70 years old.
quote by Steve Israel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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