Sleepless night after sleepless night, anxious of the task that awaits me,
Uncontrolled chaos and internal panic, it is almost time to pull the rugs from under them and
Leave them with nothing, but an empty jagged hole of an existence.
Why do flashes of silver flood my mind, as I move in and out of consciousness?
Weeks of legal ramblings and management bickering,
Has brought us to this juncture, this place of distaste.
And I am the chosen messenger, the one to break this devastating news,
The one to articulate that the bountiful and secure lives they once cherished, will soon become a distant memory?
Loyalty, dedication, hard work, commitment, they gave it all, and
In the end they will question, why they gave so much.
Still, I will strangle every morsel of confidence from them and then,
Slowly cast them, one by one, into a life of uncertainty and destined struggle.
What job is this I have, so distraught I am at this imminent task?
Education and experience have left me unprepared, as I find myself at this unsavoury crossroads.
The ability to control my heavy grief, and to wear my ever shrinking, corporate hat,
Will test, without doubt, every moral and ethical bone in my body.
Strength of character must prevail for, what choice do I have?
I must constantly remind myself that, this decision is not mine.
I am the paid executioner, but I am also the poker face they will remember.
My subconscious again takes over, as I carefully count the silver.
Will they understand why I cannot sleep,
And that my heart is desperately heavy, and my tears are real?
Will the look of shock, then hate, loathing and anger on their faces,
Stay with me for an eternity, and will they ever know I am, truly sorry?
Counting 28, 29, 30 . . . . . . .
Author notes
In my role as an HR Managaer I was told to sack 70 people, some of them had been with the company 25 years. I had a lot of trouble coming to terms with this task.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 16 of 16
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sounds reallt hard.
I love the lie about counting silver, the way you just sneak in this older reference is very cool, makes me think about how people hve always done things they hate for money.
Very good poem.
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It hurts in may ways.
I know how you feel and that is why I went into engineering, but suffered anyway because of the worry of personal injury caused by failure of the equipment I designed. You have it hard and most people don't see the different sides of the coin, from the one who risks everything to those who are put into the position you are in, to those who are suddenly cast into poverty (yet they are helped by the government whereas you aren't) to those who lose because of the problems. It is a hard hard world and no matter how much you grieve the problem will reamin exactly the same. The poem expresses all this remarkably well and just maybe, some of the 'poor others' will understand that they are not the only ones who are hurt.
Well done.
Barry
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I totally understand your guilt but it was not your fault the orders are passed down and you have mouths to feed as well as they do. But as they sit in front of you, upstanding and clean cut in their suits. You must think to yourself, how different, more valuable am I to the company then he is? Could it have easily been switched around had the tables turned how would you feel no matter though. Rather it be one to go then two. If you didn't do it they would have paid someone else to. Good poem and as heart wrenching as it is you did the right thing now get some sleep already!
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Yes, I bestow upon you the task of ruining another life, another dream.
They gave so much because they are fools, never give your cards away, especially them all, only enough -and only if you must- to tempt and to lull.
Give it up! If you must, throw away that corporate suit, live a life you alway wanted, without grief, without the guilt of knowing what you did for the system.
Count the count the money, keep your eye on the pay check, it's all you have left as the heart deceives you, and leaves you as you betray it one final time.
Sleep? They will not sleep for ages, fretting for their lives... They will not believe your apologizes, know they're as fake as their dreams.
Nice poem. Not bad. A good read indeed. I feel sorry for you man -
Horrible
I did not like this poem due to the form. I wanted to stop reading after the first stanza (although I didn't as I would not critique a poem I have not read). I really think that better imagery should be established. I hate being told how to feel and that is what is being done. Give us (the readers) something to think about not make us read it... it's VERY annoying to be told how to feel. I would love to see revisions! -
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You had an interesting reaction to my poem but I do not understand where in the poem I was telling YOU (the reader) how to feel. This was my experience, my dread, my pain - the word "I" is all through the poem. Nowhere do I suggest how you should feel, how you feel about it is your choice. These are my deamons and all I wanted to do was share the pain and angst that I was feeling. There is no doubt there are lots of things I could do to improve this poem and I will revisit it in time.
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I believe the goal of poetry is to spark a feeling in the reader otherwise what would be the point of sharing your works with the whole internet? I understand your feelings but I want to feel them too I want to feel that sorrow and that pain just as you and be put into an empathetic situation. Build it up and then smash it to pieces be as creative as you would like. I want to judge why you have these feelings and what built up to them. I have this reaction because thats just my personality and the things that I myself have experienced. So that may interfear with the process but you should use that to your advantage. Use psychology to your advantage and I will understand all of your feelings and all of your sorrows as you do but leave blatancy alone it only leads to what I would call poetic stupidity. I am subject to it myself and so is everyone else thus why we revise and hopefully come up with what we may in very much time be satisfied! So thank you for commenting on my comment and I would be glad to help you understand further if need be!
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this was a really good write altough I don't like the form the poem was written in. It was a little sad and wonderfully written.
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Oh my this must be real hard for you then...I can understand why you feel so much....sometimes a job just sucks when you have to do things against your heart and believes...I know it too.
I hope you will be able to deal with it, and maybe it will take some other poems to let it all out...well that means if you can get it out...
I wish you strenght to deal with this.
XXJeannette
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I hated the title until I understood the topic, at which point it clicked in place, and my mind leapt to Gogol's "Dead Souls" which is a good allusion for this.
You have my sympathy, I once had to fire my best friend, but even that wasn't as bad as letting people go who I knew were going to have a tough time finding any other work.
Tough topic for a poem, though, and hard to find a tone that doesn't come across as either too cavalier or too melodramatic. I think you've found good imagery (corporate hat and poker face), but are still struggling with the form.
I think I'd suggest trying to avoid too many archaic phrasings or religious imagery. Gogol, in fact, serves as a good model by demonstrating the everyday character of these trades in souls, with the torment showing in dramatic tension rather than flights of philosophy.
You might start by honing down. For example, in the first line you draw out "anxious of the task that awaits me" instead of using the more mundane "task ahead". It's not only wordier, but by heavilly emphasizing the anticipation it diminishes the impact of the actual firings by elevating the worry.
If the stress is something that you need to put right at the very top, you might want to incorporate the actual things you do to "gird for the day". As a guy, tightening the tie, lashing the belt, tightening the laces on my shoes, but anything from preparing breakfast to shutting off the radio for the drive to work can be images used to point out the tension, the break from the more pleasant, the preparation for disaster.
Line two (just a nitpicky note, mainly), "uncontrolled" and "internal" are both redundant. I'd prefer that the chaos and panic be demonstrated by imagery rather than spelled out, but even so, I think they'd come across better in an abbreviated expression.
The final stanza is a bit conflicted. "Will they understand why I cannot sleep?" You bet they will; they will think worse of you than you do (at least in their unguarded moments), or at least will feel the shock. More to the point, this presumes that they will know that you can't sleep, whereas the final question you pose wonders if they will understand that you are conflicted as well. I think the final question is the more pertinent one.
Final note: pacing. This piece reads like an outpouring which has been slowed down by reflection. I think the slower pace to demonstrate reflection makes sense, but not all the way through. If you are one who believes in balanced line length, than you might consider increasing the number of stresses and pumping up the hard vowels and consonants when you focus on the physical and reach the more stressful, dramatic moments.
As I say, a very tough topic. I find it hard to write work poems about my office job, even for the dramatic times. I think you've made a great start, but if you focus more on the way this fits into the everyday, find a pace that works with the job of being in HR, the poem will be just that much more effective.
p.s. I love the first three lines of the second stanza, but the last line goes too far in sentiment and sound for me. Perhaps something like: "The one to articulate that their bountiful lives, are done." On a personal note, you really should remember that their lives _aren't_ done. They do have other things going which should give you both solace, and a sense of responsibility for making their transitions easier. On a poetic note, the suddeness of ending their careers should be conveyed by ending the line more quickly.
Brian
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Your action was a modern-day massacre in so many ways. You the executioner had to act or be executed. Sad. It's good that you found an outlet for your emotions in this free verse write.
when the old woman
asked, “what does it all mean?”
without thinking
I answered
“it doesn't have to mean a thing.”
Good read. The progression from one line, from one thought to another was great. Your description of your thoughts, actions, and pain took me there. Your expression was wonderfully dark. Keep writing.
“The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things."
"The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be master--that's all."
--Lewis Caroll
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Oh.. this is too sad and unfortunately, the way it is. At least you had heart and could not doing it without conscious. Blessings. Debby
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wonderful
the poem made me feel sad and troubled by the deed.it put me rite in the poets shoes.any poem that can do deserves every praise ,ty for a poem that actually touches my soul
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my favorite line is "Leave them with nothing, but an empty jagged hole of an existence." i loved your voice. it captivated me as i was reading. i loved this peice. it held my attention which is hard to do =^.^=
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Wow
Nicely written with a great voice; you appealed greatly to my emotions with conviction.
You have some errors with punctuation though, misusing commas and semi-colons. Semi-colons separate two complete sentences that are closely related, but you've used them before conjunctions instead of a comma. You also have commas unnecessarily placed throughout:
". . .and will they ever know I am, truly sorry"
Such as the one between am and truly.
I do find it very refreshing to find a piece with punctuation though, an it's a very wonderful piece too. -
I'm surprised there are no comments. This poem is so full of emotion and so tragically beautiful. You used great details that surpassed the vaguness of other pieces in this contest, and I believe you have a grand talent. Good luck in the contest!
-Chance
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