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Mark R Slaughter (1957 / Norwich)
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.
Comments about this poem (Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work by Mark R Slaughter )
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I smiled all through the poem, then simply laughed at the end.
How - self-employed - may engineer a dsimissal? Oh fair Camelot! be kind to me!
I like the wit and feeling here.
sounds like mom everyday, I should show her this poem later, nice poetry
Work-sleep-work.....suddenly it becomes the strong winds in a storm. Where is fun? Where is purpose? Where is essence?
Yes, people at work do feel these things. Work-sleep-work but then what if we also try another rhythm sleep-eat-sleep-eat. After some time it would also become boring.
Work-sleep-work and break then back to work-sleep-work and break and so on and so forth.
I love the poem. It's like the whole office is shouting for BREAK!
A 10!
My message to you - 'Dream On'.Try it please.
A wonderful witty look at how tedious and repetative work can become, causing it to be boring. The repetition in the poem echoes of the repetition at work. At some stage in everybody's life they will be able to relate to this very well written poem. All work and no play...............
A 10 from me.
i couldn't possibly agree more. it feels like my own life is exactly the same way, and there's never any time for lesiure or relaxation. it's just work, work, and yet more work... everything becomes so pedantic, repetitive, and boring, and the purpose of life can no longer be seen; for why would we have been brought into the world just to suffer? maybe it's to make us appreciate the coming of death more...nice write, a 10 from me
***lil copycat***
A poem that people can relate to.