Work Poems (218)

'Whisper Man'

Hello, you whisper in my ear
Come to me Darling,i am over here
Where are you when i need you
I am always very near
No need to say you are Sorry
For it was not your fault
You are such a Gentle Giant
A Caring man at that
You bring the light in through my Window
The Sun to my Soul
The Laughfter to my mouth
You are such a gentle Soul
Hello,You Whisper in my ear
I wish we were on a Desert Island
Where no one else could go
Just the two of us together
Touching each other slow
I know i can't be with you at the moment
You are far away form me now
Accross the sunny Ocean
Amoung the Mountains High
I will never say Goodbye
Because i will only Cry
You are such a sentitive man
God could only Give you that
Hello,You Whisper in my ear
Come to me Darling
Hold my hand like that
I Love your warm Touch
Your Pale Face against my Chest
Wrap yourself around me
So i can feel your Bodies Warmth
Now i am going to Whisper
Goodnight my Friend,Goodnight.

Trying to find reality

clashing minds gradually

squander and squawl

stopping only to say

I think I have found

what will break new ground

Now is the time to seize the day
No matter what, come what may,
To think too long would be a crime!
Do you really have the time?
The clock is ticking, It will not stop!
Tick Tock! Tick Tock! Tick Tock! Tick Tock!
To make this choice to change your life,
Just like the moment you chose your wife,
To have a dream you can make true,
Is possible here for all to view,
So take this moment and find the way,
To a better life right now TODAY!

I seem to wait all the time for that fourteenth day to come back around. Sometimes when you say two weeks instead of so many days it seems to be a better phrase.
When I go to bed at night my prayers are said then I can lay my weary head to rest.
New things are coming my way, eager to see what life is bringing to me like a child on his or her birthday. Fridays are suppose to be such a big day for so many people but as for me, its just another day well except for the fourteenth day which is a good friday, my day for pay.
Soon things will be much better, and that fourteenth day will be good but again just another day, for now I'm again saving for a rainy day.
Nevr the less I will always think ahead so I don't find myself sinking below the surface during the week of the fourteenth day.

DOES YOUR GOD DO IT GREEK STYLE?

I don’t mind being labeled a fool
Why, because I’m that god-damned cool
And by the way, I am seriously dying as we speak
But until I’m dust I’ll do it just like the Greek

Zorba ain’t got a thing over me
I down ouzo people give me for free
How do I do that which you yearn to know?
Well, if it ain’t free I write a bad check and let the ouzo flow

That’s just the kind or unkind of fool I am
Foolish enough to fool all of them
All the fools and the common folk
And I may be a fool but I ain’t no joke

I hear with my heart your god’s admonition
But my foolishness will never be in remission
For the remainder of my days I’ll be this way
Disregarding that which society and your lord may say

So call me a fool if that be your will
Because I ain’t got nothing but time to kill
Until your god decides to kill this fool
But I don’t give a f*ck because I’m that god-damned cool
Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

I used to be a writer; a little poetry by hand. A poet without the glitter; no audiance did i command. My messages were solely mine; a cummulation of my thoughts. Here and there little lines, and whatever comfort it brought. I was not the shakespear; i am who i am. These my writings, i shared, hoping if "one" would understand. Then my time was past; i wrote poems no more. Not even good poets last, muchless me, this simple bore. Yet you can make me great, reading my work through and through. Do so for this poet's sake; one who is infamous as you. Become a well known critic-: debate my work and its value. With comments from good to derelict; such helps my work shine-through. I am not the immortal; my body dead and gone. Make my work-:a living portal and byfaith a legend lives:- on!

You push to the enth spitting out what I gave
Clock starts at eight, ends about five
Your recall's so bad
Cause it's all about you.

Whips in your hand and your 4 inch heels
You batter the meat to help in your feel
Always forgetting what they gave in the past
It's all about you while you crow's nest the mast.

You get thirty gives
To your Eighty five takes.
Yet the gives never seen
Your despair is all fake.

It's all about you as you superimpose
Your delicate mind upon those of brown nose
Push away others while brown will comply
As they live in the realm of your misguided lie~


~Bentlee~

The alarm clock crowed its monstrous notes as I struggled to find it’s camouflaged position.
Like a cap in the wind it tumbled further away in the blankets as I tried furiously to reach..
A clunk on the floor advised me it was wounded as it turned into a tweet half accomplishing my mission.
Stumbling thru my bedroom doorway I peeked thru cloudy eyes and cursed thru mumbled speech.
Why didn’t I take that veterinarian course-oh yeh! very long and costly and too darn demanding.
Will have to shave and shower, comb my teeth and brush my hair?….and try and find my keys.
This routine for company, corporation and state often seems obscene and never ending
I will be like a walking Zombie until I reach the brown box in the line and say large double double Plezzzz….

I see them go by
The hottest women
They wear their hats
They wear their smiles
They wear their expensive ski outfits
They live in a world of plesure
I live in a world of low wages
I get jealous of them
jealous of their beauty
jealous of their joy
jealous of their families and friends
I get to ski for free
I have to ski alone
I don't have anyone to share it with
I eat my pretzel m+m's, combos, cheese, and summer sausage
I drink my free mt. dew and hot cocoa
I sit and watch for them to fall
I stop the chairlift and help them up
I wish I could be doing what they are doing
I watch the kid bounce the chair
I grow weary of the rich people
I look at my watch as the minutes slowly tick by
I feel grateful for having an easy job
I see it is time to go
I shovel some snow on the ramp
I drive home on Blackjack Road
It's twists and turns are dangerous
Five deer walk out from the woods and I miss them
I call in today to find I can have the day off
I wonder when the snow will melt and I will be done

Already is still dark
And almost sunrise
Alarm rings to warn me
Descend into the mines
Shake loose some salt
Deep inside the earth
Of my middle class world
Drudgery of modern life
Lifted by unquenchable thirst
For good literature and wine
Untangle my free time
Free my simple agrarian mind
Learn the meaning of rest
Taste the fruits of idleness
Where is the sanctity of pleasure
When dreams board a runaway train
Travelling too fast
Out of control
Jump off and roll away
No! Fear says "Hang on"
Or face the consequences
The tender truth awaits
So sinks another sunset
Its glow reaches my soul
Will I too be pulled down
Will my spirit sink
Into the night of tired dispair
Where escape is out of reach
From reality....but whose reality?