Work Poems (218)

You can check out the web site or may contact Omer Qureshi at +923004124180 for easy to follow instructions.

The Painter

With a special eye, he picks up the the view
Deftly gathering each colour and Hue
Seeing his subject in a whole new light
He picks up a canvas, his face glowing bright

He sets up his easel, in just the right place
Affixing the canvas, with ease and grace
His palette close by, his brushes all clean
His mind capturing the subject, which is soon to be seen

His brush strokes can be light
Yet at times needed, are bold
Lovingly between his fingers
his beloved paintbrush he holds

His eyes darting back and forth
Keeping his subject in full sight
Capturing each minute detail
As the picture springs into life

All time and space stand still for him
He is driven like the wind,
Concentration upon his brow
For his painting is not a whim

To create a natural beauty
The texture, the tones of colour
As he finishes his masterpiece
His heart, could not be fuller!

shredded note
shredded chord
shredded strings
the guitar lord

shredded fret
shredded finger
shredded blues
high note linger

guitar wails
drums pound on
horns blasting
a brassy song

sweatin' lights
a Hammond whirl
melodic flights
the winds unfurl

base vibes low
threshold near
feel wave now
audible to ear

shredded tune
shredded times
soulful blue moon
the bloody lines

the decibels wall
a loud surround
singer above all
a wailing sound

keys hammered
piano harps on
audience clamors
to sway til dawn

a lasting noise
'til reach the end
loud cheers of joy
band starts again

© agoodguy2have 2010-10-19

(guitar_playing_technique)

He sits at his blank canvas pondering what to paint
Brushes ready he ponders what to paint
will it be a land scape today pondering he thinks
resting his head on his knee he thinks

he looks at the views all around deciding on his view today
a nice water view he desides to do today
boats floating up and down on the water
the calmness of the gentle floating water seagulls flying over head

the gentle sea breeze the coldness of the day
he warms his hands to take away the chill
with brushes in hands,he paints away

his background color white of course
he covers his canvass in no time at all
ready to start he draws his figures he moulds his scene like the paccso he his, gentley sketching his figures come to life boats there
figures there, seagulls of course floating in the air

his talent has no bounds a paccaso he is
now with brushes in hand he slowly lovingly glides his brushes like a work of art painting many colors on his work of art
slowly he builds up his picture brightly lite colors

his picture opens wide to let spectators view inside his work of art
now open to view
now finished and open to view
they come and stir and glare at his art some smile some people laugh
they stare containtly for major detail all looking at his art

with a beaming smile and pride, he joins them and smiles looking at his art

how funny it is become
value of living, doesn't hinge, but is affected
by how well my plants may or may not do
I suppose that it's only superficial
for, should I crave nourishment...it is provided
in some fashion
I am now...that grubby fingers in the dirt
...knees on the ground
eyes to the sky kinda guy
I'm not sure if I've ever been happier...maybe
but I'm happy...now
and I feel really good
although...the end of my season is fast approaching
and the motto at work nowadays is:
'do more with less'
less time
less help
fewer supplies
but more work...
I've accepted the demands thrust upon me
and I'm striving and am surprisingly successful
...for now
I can be really strong
I'm pleased with that
with little leeway provided
we all choose how we will deal with adversity
I've chosen to fight
but not with unrealistic demands
I'm fighting to succeed
in spite of of the seemingly insurmountable hurdles set before me
I'm not positive that I can necessarily sustain
but, I'm also not afraid
in fact..it is with a bit of relish
that I face each new day
every challenge
I am actually surprised!
at how well I am doing
it makes me feel like a man
this means: not shirking duty
to face it straight-on
to do the best I can...no whether if anyone else realizes
my struggle....or not
that doesn't matter, for it's just me now
at my job, anyway
however, there is a source of great energy
great joy
ever awaiting me at home
my inspiration, my love, my life
...my family!
I am so lucky

I seem to have a talent for,
Destroying all my efforts put.
By taking very careful aim,
To shoot myself in my own foot.

Once had a job in telephones,
And could have stayed forever,
But quit to work for an old friend,
Thought I was being clever.

His business skills turned out to be,
The cause of our undoing.
Went belly up with taxes owed,
And all the woes ensuing.

Then found some work in finances,
A vice-president was I,
They moved away but I chose not,
Another job gone bye-bye.

So now I search the want-ads for,
Some sort of a position,
But no one's hiring 'cause of the,
Economy's condition.

I think I'll hang a shingle out,
An idea that cannot fail.
Be my own boss, work when I want,
"Custom poetry for sale."

Proceeded by peril
Are American Dreams
Realities fleeting
Repeating daily routines
Todays truth's are stone washed
Like a brand named pair of jeans
True Blues hard to find
In a world run by green

i swung the door and made my pitch
"buy one drink! see the whole show on the inside!"
it was a friday night
the street was crawling with money
i spotted a group headed my way
there must have been forty or fifty
a tour group wandering down the sidewalk with no guide
i just opened the door and bowed with a flourish
they filed in like sheep
their driver came running toward me
he was pissed off!
these tours were only supposed to go to certain clubs
where they had an "arrangement"
the driver was screaming in my face
i took a twenty out of my pocket
told him to go in and have a drink on me
he actually growled when he grabbed the twenty out of my hand
but he went in
the manager came out
asked me how in the hell i did that
i told him he owed me twenty bucks
he paid me on the spot
next day angelo, the big boss, called me into his "office"
his office was the bar next door
angelo owned a lot of clubs
he was a big "family man"
i went in and said "yes sir?"
he said "ey, i 'ere you been doin a good job out dere"
i said "thank you sir, i really like my job out there
i don't want any other jobs
i just like my job out there"
he looked me in the eye and patted me on the cheek
"you a good boy" he said...

Learners Folly


Amidst this eternal learned battle,
Where talent and skills do bleed
Entrenched in attitude, herded like cattle,
Confusion reigns in this their need.

Vociferous verbal blasts, scorched landscape
No virtue for my skills understood,
Oh to fly my distant escape
No solace here, this my mood.

Thunderous ignorance of this I teach
Ricocheting words, deafness abound,
Art from souls beyond their reach
No resonance interred, on this battleground.

Paul Gallagher 2008

The babe's are in the dark,the door is closed

Light sneaks under the door,the chairs shuffle and then no more

They cuddle up and kiss in fear, of what they know will appear

For years this boy and girl suffered from this HELL!


They come to me from out of there, putrid and in pain

I look at them with empathy and unshown despair

Others judge them with blind disdain

They no nothing of their pain,Oh! these babe's


I don't work alone, such is this complicated mess

The days go by the seasons change,these babe's will never be the same

They are safe now you see, all grown up with family

This is not the end I know,there will be more pain and woe