Here is a list of Work Poems ordered by Last Commented, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
The Fishermen.
Boat pushes out, they leave the shore and relatives behind,
They say it's bad luck to turn around,
To wave back thier goodbye's.
We watch them till they're seen no more,
Till we are dots upon thier shore,
but we don't want to cry no more,
For the fishermen's lonely lives....
Yo, Ho the fishermans life, is the song that they will sing,
We're hardy men upon our boat, our catch we shall bring in,
We'll bring them back the crabs and fishes and maybe some thing rare,
But out here on our fishing boat, our ocean we must care....
HEY!,grab the net there Johnny, Mick, come on Joe, are you right ?,
The blasted net has got me arm its pinching me too tigh,
For with the sea inside me eyes,the waves they are too high,
Don't let me leave this side of boat, I do not want to die....
The coldness is a feirce one, my arm is turning blue,
Come on there Lad's, will you hurry up, Dont let me time be through,
I think the hook is in me arm, its wegged me to the boat,
But the over hang is far too heavy, I hope we stay a float....
Just cut the net, save me arm, I need it more, than we have caught,
Let them go the crabs and fishes, release the bluddy lot.
Joe takes out his pocket knife, starts chawing at the rope,
I think he's cut the net in time to save me arm I hope....
They've snip the hook thats held me down, thats wegged me to the side,
They know the pain is easier now, they see it in my eyes.
They've saved me arm, we've lost our catch,
But tomorrows another day,
We'll bull the nets to get our catch,
And we'll be on our way,
Singing........
Yo Ho, the fishermans life, T'is a hardy life you see,
But we are strong and we are tough, t'is where we want to be,
We'll lore our nets and home our catch,and maybe something rare,
But the rarest thing I'll ever have, is my family waiting there....
Dotted on the shore......
They say it's bad luck to turn around,
To wave back thier goodbye's.
We watch them till they're seen no more,
Till we are dots upon thier shore,
but we don't want to cry no more,
For the fishermen's lonely lives....
Yo, Ho the fishermans life, is the song that they will sing,
We're hardy men upon our boat, our catch we shall bring in,
We'll bring them back the crabs and fishes and maybe some thing rare,
But out here on our fishing boat, our ocean we must care....
HEY!,grab the net there Johnny, Mick, come on Joe, are you right ?,
The blasted net has got me arm its pinching me too tigh,
For with the sea inside me eyes,the waves they are too high,
Don't let me leave this side of boat, I do not want to die....
The coldness is a feirce one, my arm is turning blue,
Come on there Lad's, will you hurry up, Dont let me time be through,
I think the hook is in me arm, its wegged me to the boat,
But the over hang is far too heavy, I hope we stay a float....
Just cut the net, save me arm, I need it more, than we have caught,
Let them go the crabs and fishes, release the bluddy lot.
Joe takes out his pocket knife, starts chawing at the rope,
I think he's cut the net in time to save me arm I hope....
They've snip the hook thats held me down, thats wegged me to the side,
They know the pain is easier now, they see it in my eyes.
They've saved me arm, we've lost our catch,
But tomorrows another day,
We'll bull the nets to get our catch,
And we'll be on our way,
Singing........
Yo Ho, the fishermans life, T'is a hardy life you see,
But we are strong and we are tough, t'is where we want to be,
We'll lore our nets and home our catch,and maybe something rare,
But the rarest thing I'll ever have, is my family waiting there....
Dotted on the shore......
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
About this poem:
Dedicated to the Fishermen on poets corner,(You) know who you are....
Going to the Bathroom
I like to slack off
I really do
I brownnose the boss
And compliment him too
My coworker are so jealous
Of all the work I don't do
They don't know the game like I do
Cause I'm going to the bathroom
And I'm gonna sit on my throne
Going to the bathroom and I'm gonna slack off
Going to the bathroom and read the newspaper
Going to the bathroom I love
Morale is low and I know why
Cause I'm always in the bathroom
They have to do their work and mine
I don't care cause I make the most pay
It's not how hard you work but who the boss likes
That's why I'm going to the bathroom
And I'm gonna sit on my throne
Going to the bathroom and I'm gonna slack off
Going to the bathroom and read the newspaper
Going to the bathroom I love
That's right
I'm going to the bathroom I love
I really do
I brownnose the boss
And compliment him too
My coworker are so jealous
Of all the work I don't do
They don't know the game like I do
Cause I'm going to the bathroom
And I'm gonna sit on my throne
Going to the bathroom and I'm gonna slack off
Going to the bathroom and read the newspaper
Going to the bathroom I love
Morale is low and I know why
Cause I'm always in the bathroom
They have to do their work and mine
I don't care cause I make the most pay
It's not how hard you work but who the boss likes
That's why I'm going to the bathroom
And I'm gonna sit on my throne
Going to the bathroom and I'm gonna slack off
Going to the bathroom and read the newspaper
Going to the bathroom I love
That's right
I'm going to the bathroom I love
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
About this poem:
A parody of Going to the Chapel. I had this coworker back at a job I had up till 2006 and he would do this constantly. He did get written up once, but still continued to do this. I figure he worked about half his shift and the other half did stuff like this to get out of work and he was the highest paid. He was also my favorite coworker which shows how bad some of my coworkers were.Depressed Factory Worker
Every day I go to work it gets worse
Always worse
The boss yells at me
I ask why do you yell at me
He says because I like to yell
I work on factory next to criminals
One is on work release for driving drunk
One is on work release for selling crack
One is on work release for selling pot
I do have women working there
One knocked out my coworker for grabbing her
So he wakes up and she quits
Another one look like vampire who wants to bite me on the neck
My boss looks like Saddam Hussain
Did he shave off his mustache and go on Jenny Craig?
The heat and the stress are unbelievable
One guy fell down on the ground from heart attack
Another guy committed suicide
Two other guys died in auto wreck after working seven days a week
For months on end
I ask my coworker who was in Iraq if this place is better
He says to me
I would rather be in Iraq than be here
It is less stressful
Always worse
The boss yells at me
I ask why do you yell at me
He says because I like to yell
I work on factory next to criminals
One is on work release for driving drunk
One is on work release for selling crack
One is on work release for selling pot
I do have women working there
One knocked out my coworker for grabbing her
So he wakes up and she quits
Another one look like vampire who wants to bite me on the neck
My boss looks like Saddam Hussain
Did he shave off his mustache and go on Jenny Craig?
The heat and the stress are unbelievable
One guy fell down on the ground from heart attack
Another guy committed suicide
Two other guys died in auto wreck after working seven days a week
For months on end
I ask my coworker who was in Iraq if this place is better
He says to me
I would rather be in Iraq than be here
It is less stressful
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
About this poem:
Believe it or not, this is actually true. These things did actually happen at a job I had back in 2007-2008. I did get some nice golf balls and an unbrella though.
Sleeping Awake
Goodnight.
The evening it sighs,
The morn light she yawns,
As we sleep wide awake,
A screem with no sound,
The silence so LOUD,
Trying to run so far.
Not getting anywhere.
This hell is no dream.
Like a touch with no feel
All this true and so real.
As i welcome anther day...
The evening it sighs,
The morn light she yawns,
As we sleep wide awake,
A screem with no sound,
The silence so LOUD,
Trying to run so far.
Not getting anywhere.
This hell is no dream.
Like a touch with no feel
All this true and so real.
As i welcome anther day...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2013
Post Comment
Slamming Doors
Business all around closing
doors shutting down.
No more sales to have no
more jobs how sad.
To many doors closing and
none opening.
The economy is supposedly
picking up, but i do not
see doors swinging wide
for more jobs for all.
Jobs galore for all to see
but the economy is no
better for you and me.
Struggling through this
world right now.
Maybe someday i will see
help wanted ads for all.
For now struggle and
strife is my life.
Lord i give this to thee
for you are the answer
i seek.
doors shutting down.
No more sales to have no
more jobs how sad.
To many doors closing and
none opening.
The economy is supposedly
picking up, but i do not
see doors swinging wide
for more jobs for all.
Jobs galore for all to see
but the economy is no
better for you and me.
Struggling through this
world right now.
Maybe someday i will see
help wanted ads for all.
For now struggle and
strife is my life.
Lord i give this to thee
for you are the answer
i seek.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
About this poem:
No WorkI Thought I Found A Job
Where Where
Are You Tonight
Why did you leave me here all alone
I searched the world over
And thought I found a job
You found another
And "PPTTT"
You were gone
Are You Tonight
Why did you leave me here all alone
I searched the world over
And thought I found a job
You found another
And "PPTTT"
You were gone
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2013
About this poem:
This is a parody of a HeeHaw song. It was a country comedy and musical show that was on when I was a kid back in the 70's. With all the people out looking for work in this new economy, I thought this would be a good song for them to sing.
Behind shadows is not life ...
Behind the broken side of my life
Behind the broken hearts and lying smiles
Behind the broken glasses and cunning minds
Where can justice and answers be found?
Shadow hides so many truth
Shadow aides so many fakes
Shadow breaks so many shields
And cries when daybreak make
Pain we share
Blood we spare
Trap we snare
This is not the life we tend to believe
Behind the broken hearts and lying smiles
Behind the broken glasses and cunning minds
Where can justice and answers be found?
Shadow hides so many truth
Shadow aides so many fakes
Shadow breaks so many shields
And cries when daybreak make
Pain we share
Blood we spare
Trap we snare
This is not the life we tend to believe
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2013
Post Comment
The Automobile Mechanic
The automobile mechanic was originally
a car owner who carried out his own repairs
during the turn of the 19th Century.
These days, it is a person who endeavors to fix
the car problems of the everyday motorist
he is part engineer, detective, and miracle worker
all rolled into one, when the motorist expects their car
virtually fixed at a moment's notice.
He is truly a modern day unsung hero to most
who keep their car in tip top condition
although the mechanic seldom gets
the credit that he or she rightly deserves.
a car owner who carried out his own repairs
during the turn of the 19th Century.
These days, it is a person who endeavors to fix
the car problems of the everyday motorist
he is part engineer, detective, and miracle worker
all rolled into one, when the motorist expects their car
virtually fixed at a moment's notice.
He is truly a modern day unsung hero to most
who keep their car in tip top condition
although the mechanic seldom gets
the credit that he or she rightly deserves.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2012
About this poem:
A true story that happens everyday, it is self explanetary and they are without a doubt an important part of all our lifestyles today.Natural blonde - my survey
Will I get some imput here, lets see
Are you a natural blonde
Colour Hair
Colour eyes
Open minded
Colour Eye Brows
How do you identify a natural blonde...........Continue
Are you a natural blonde
Colour Hair
Colour eyes
Open minded
Colour Eye Brows
How do you identify a natural blonde...........Continue
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2012
About this poem:
I am doing a survey on natural blonde, how can you really tell
CAT D9 AND MATT.....!
There's a story let me tell you
That happened some time back
So grab a stump and listen
'Bout a D9 Cat. and Matt.
It was '08 round September
And the word had just come through
'Bout some fellers that were coming
To do an interview
They were from a publication
From France across the sea
And arranged to take some photos
Of the Cat.D9 and me
So we did the picture bit OK...
They were awestruck at the 'C'
Then it came at last to my turn
To tell them about me
So I told what they needed
And how to drive the Cat.
Explained about the blade plough
The seeder an' all that
How we rake the country
Before we start to sow
They were speechless as I rambled
Till I gave them both a go
At driving from the cabin
How to turn and twist and back
By the time that they had finished
I think they had the 'knack"
Still silent from the action
They were lost at what to say
But were happy with their efforts
Of their 'drive the Cat' display
Some time later we all parted
Me back to my job
For I must keep the hours up
And earn an honest 'bob'
Then came the time the boss came out
A magazine for me to see
In centre fold was Cat.D9
And large as life was me
The pictures didn't look so bad
The Cat. looked good and clean
And there was 'Matt' as bold as brass
The centre of the scene
Then I looked at all the writing
Gave a squawk of sheer dismay
It was in French... the whole damn lot
What it said I could not say
Then one day while in Roma
I said to my friend 'Pete'
About to print some photos
From the Magazine to keep
And he said just leave it with me
He knew a lady he could see
That could translate into English
The story here for me
So he got it all translated
It was done down at 'SURAT
And I was so so excited
About the story an' all that
So I made a deal and offered
To shout Dinner and a yarn
With the Lady and her Hubby
And her friend called 'Christianne'
So in March we had the dinner
It was sad to see it end
For the company was excellent
And now they are my friends
So I went back to my home place
Where rests the D9 Cat.
And they went back to their place
South of Roma ...to SURAT
M. B. Poems 2012
That happened some time back
So grab a stump and listen
'Bout a D9 Cat. and Matt.
It was '08 round September
And the word had just come through
'Bout some fellers that were coming
To do an interview
They were from a publication
From France across the sea
And arranged to take some photos
Of the Cat.D9 and me
So we did the picture bit OK...
They were awestruck at the 'C'
Then it came at last to my turn
To tell them about me
So I told what they needed
And how to drive the Cat.
Explained about the blade plough
The seeder an' all that
How we rake the country
Before we start to sow
They were speechless as I rambled
Till I gave them both a go
At driving from the cabin
How to turn and twist and back
By the time that they had finished
I think they had the 'knack"
Still silent from the action
They were lost at what to say
But were happy with their efforts
Of their 'drive the Cat' display
Some time later we all parted
Me back to my job
For I must keep the hours up
And earn an honest 'bob'
Then came the time the boss came out
A magazine for me to see
In centre fold was Cat.D9
And large as life was me
The pictures didn't look so bad
The Cat. looked good and clean
And there was 'Matt' as bold as brass
The centre of the scene
Then I looked at all the writing
Gave a squawk of sheer dismay
It was in French... the whole damn lot
What it said I could not say
Then one day while in Roma
I said to my friend 'Pete'
About to print some photos
From the Magazine to keep
And he said just leave it with me
He knew a lady he could see
That could translate into English
The story here for me
So he got it all translated
It was done down at 'SURAT
And I was so so excited
About the story an' all that
So I made a deal and offered
To shout Dinner and a yarn
With the Lady and her Hubby
And her friend called 'Christianne'
So in March we had the dinner
It was sad to see it end
For the company was excellent
And now they are my friends
So I went back to my home place
Where rests the D9 Cat.
And they went back to their place
South of Roma ...to SURAT
M. B. Poems 2012
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2012
About this poem:
This really happened so I thought it appropriate to put it to verse....Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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