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August 15, 2005 - A poem about Business

A Week Without Socks.

There I was.
Beyond sand-burned restless toes
Now stilled beneath my deskbound woes.
No mails to write no calls to make
No complex thoughts to navigate.
Barefoot and tributary washed
I was wind-cooled freedom stepped
Jumping waves and chasing roll of tide
As far as eyes could call.
And I must - I must remember
The melting sundae blend of sky
To heat haze shores and on.
I felt warmth of gritted soles and feet
Laid down and spilled on red-hot rocks
That led toward the edge of sands
Where men like I must run to find
The blessed kiss that ocean always tells
To souls now wearing polished shoes
And stifled reign of socks.


January 25, 2005 - A poem about Business

Beware of Engines.

Beware of engines,
Say the men of oil and dust
Working for their fathers,
Sons, before a heritage of trust.

Speaking heat and night of foundry bed,
Telling black and white of early call,
Cathedral spired beyond the fires -
Raising chalice cast from iron trust.

To worshiped stitch of boilerplate
To lathe contented steel - not men,
All bowed before a final wailed hoot -
Not thinking of their labour lost
Or industry not yet turned to rust.


July 22, 2004 - A poem about Words, Business

The Company of Poets

There’s a poet in the city,
bringing the lungs of emotion
to silver glass and steel.
Instant soul for the nervous,
throwing off corporate robes
wearing pressed badges of
attentiveness to the wonders of grind.
Suited hearts wilt under his proxied duress.
They say; “Bravo! This IS emotional,
look - we have the graphs
to prove it.”


June 23, 2004 - A poem about Friendship, Business

Chairman of the Board.

Goodbye Supergeek,
you have lost your domain
but long may your downhill logic
stay dudish in its bank and curve.
White collared, polite in line
where T-shirts once yelled loud,
may you surf across the brown stuff,
steady in the slalom of the day.
As an afro king, in climb and dive
the chocolate wristed compromise
and breaks of comfort’s creed,
are not for those like you.
Your Ninja wheels crave more
than a two foot curbstone ride -
but Kung Fu cool stays strong,
thrilled in jump - however high.
So long may you somersault
through the pinstripe hoops
and air conditioned flames,
leaping mundane ground
of office ramp and rail.
For you, are Supergeek!
and your magnet feats of awe,
draw raptuous applause.


June 17, 2004 - A poem about Business

Mr Immaterial.

Today, as I stand
here readied to speak
to suits and polished hosts
and aisles smiling hopefully.
I am earnest and they are them.
All fixed gazed in quiet attention
of who knows whom and how
(and why and when and where).
To my air conditioned audience
all card pressed intersection
my whisper now turns full voiced.
I step up to the platform and smile;
“Hello” I say.

“My name … is immaterial”