Work Life Balance

Attempting to balance
Work and life
Just seems like another job
I don’t have time
To complete

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Modern Day Peasants

You
and I
Are just
Modern day
Peasants

Convinced
By capitalism
To needlessly want

Controlled
By inflation
To pointlessly save

Coerced
By religion
To endlessly argue

The farm
Replaced by a cubicle
The hoe
Replaced by a chair
The grime
Replaced by paperwork

We
Are trapped
Idolizing
Those who escaped
The trap
The very system they now uphold

We devour news
As if we
Have any power
To act on it
Believing
That if we at least know
We will somehow survive
The next apocalypse
Our rulers say
They are protecting us from

We pretend
That the weekend is life
And that our work
Has meaning

We pretend
That we have fulfilled
The dreams
Of our childhood

We pretend
Because if we don’t
We will realize
We are
Modern day peasants

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This poem is from the book ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

This Day Is About To End

This day is about to end
It’s almost time to do it again
To pretend you’ve got reasons to attend
To trade time for the stuff you can spend
Five days then a weekend
Repeated without the chance to ascend
No chance to transcend
No bonus dividend
No time to mend the relationship with a friend
Just a life you barely comprehend
Attempting not to offend
Attempting not to condescend
Working on autopilot until you expend
Look at that, it’s year’s-end
Nothing of worth penned
Nothing of worth to recommend
Just an overspend on the new trend
A backbend in lieu of a godsend
How will you fend
When you have no meaning to contend
No higher force on which to depend?
I don’t mean to offend
But this day is about to end
And unless you want to do it all again
There’s some things that you should attend

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Stop Rushing

Stop rushing.
Take a break.
You are not lazy.
Trust that you will get it done.
You always do.

To perform optimally,
You need to rest.
You need to recover.
You need to heal.
You need to take a breath.

So do so.
Give yourself permission.
Pour the cup of tea.
Feel its warmth.
Taste its subtly.

The world will still be there.
Your work will be waiting for you.
Return to it with fresh eyes.
Embrace it with new energy.
Attack the day.

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This poem is from the book ‘Reflections of the Self, The Poetry, Insights, and Wisdom Of Silence’.

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Swallow The Poison

Swallow the poison
Trade your day
Time for money
Life’s wasting away

Work to live
Not to thrive
It’s all you can do
Just to survive

Take a moment
Look around
This is your life
What have you found?

Your kids are old
Your friends are gone
Your dreams are unmet
But you can’t move on

You earn just enough
To cover the bills
You know what would happen
If you took ill

You’d lose your job
And then the house
Then the car
Then the spouse

So every day
No matter what
You swallow your poison
The only hope you’ve got

To earn enough
To survive the night
And do it all again
The daily fight

 Not quite the fairytale
You were promised in youth
But let’s be honest
No-one could accept the truth

It’s the daily grind
Called that for a reason
To hope for other wise
Is demonized as treason 

We are in this together
The workers plea
Collective repression
Then distracted depravity

Work for the weekend
Then pay to play
Porn, liquor, and drugs
Then some takeaway
 

It’s not in your budget
But you convince yourself it’s okay
Cause it’s all you can do
To survive another workday

Don’t think of the future
It’s far to long
30 years more of this
What could possibly go wrong?

But hey!
Doesn’t retirement actually seem good?
Finally you have the time needed
To do everything you wish you now could

So you delay gratification
Of most every form of joy
Problem is you’ll be too old by then
To enjoy it anyway

Still you delude yourself
It’s part of the poison
Swallowing your dreams
Then acting with caution

Besides those weekend benders
Leave you with little spare wealth
With little motivation
With diminishing health

You sometimes wonder
How you ended up here
Overwhelmed by resentment
You crack another beer

‘It is what it is’
‘Inflation is high’
‘It capitalisms fault’
To yourself you justify

There goes the weekend
It’s time for another dose
Off to work again
Hunting that promotion grandiose

A different brand of poison
A variation of the old promise
You’ll get paid far more
Cause you’re no longer a novice

In your new role
You think you will finally be free
Until it dawns on you
All that extra responsibility

Even less time
For those that you love
For the friends you don’t see
For all the hobbies you let go of

But what other choice
Could you realistically pursue?
If you changed path now
Only chaos would ensue

So you swallow the poison
You trade your day
Exchanging time for money
Letting your life waste away

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition