Machine of Vending
With salty sweets
And chewy treats
It's a buffet inside a box.
Gum and chips,
And licorice whips,
It's food around the clock.
When hunger hits
It never quits,
So bring with you some change.
The machine of vending
Ready to exchange.
Pennies, dimes -
They're all fine.
No coin will be denied.
You won't find pickles,
But for a few nickles,
You can score a treat inside.
Well lucky you.
A new shipment is in today.
From all the brands -
So many on display.
But like all things,
The fat lady sings,
Your break comes to an end.
So grab your snacks
And all juice packs.
Goodbye mechanical friend.
The first time I heard your voice
I knew you were the one.
My heart was set, I had no choice,
For Cupid’s work was done.
I don’t know how you found me
Or how you got my name.
You could never say it correctly,
Which was really quite a shame.
I may never accept the fact
That you’re on the phone all day.
I just wish you had a bit more tact
When you forced on me that survey.
I may have never met you,
But that’s okay with me.
I do know that my love is true
Even though you disagree.
So every time my phone rings
My heart will skip a beat.
Who’s to say what each day brings
Or if we’ll ever meet.
Now I really must admit,
As sad as it may sound,
My love for you won’t ever quit
Until I’m in the ground.
Pretending to Work
The art of pretending is tricky indeed.
It takes planning, luck, and lots of speed.
Your boss comes by so you pick up the phone,
You talk to yourself in a professional tone.
A quick click required to change the screen,
So games and emails remain unseen.
If you must nap you do it with style,
With hands on keyboard all the while.
You train yourself to wake when needed
And if nobody notices, you know you've succeeded.
But if you're caught you've got excuses to spare
You were on break, or thinking, or adjusting your chair.
Work is boring, that much we can agree
And pretending to work may just set you free.
So pretend to work if you think that you can,
But make sure you've got yourself a backup plan.
Always be ready to B.S. your way out,
Because that's what pretending is all about.
Click here to see some funny pretending to work shirts, mugs, hats, and more.
[tags]pretending to work, office poem, work poem[/tags]
You won't believe how lucky you are,
So lucky, yes indeed.
You started this job hoping to go far,
And far is where you'll be.
It's time for you to relocate
To a location far away.
I bet that you just can't wait
And you won't 'cuz you leave today.
Now's a time for you to rejoice,
So pack your bags okay?
Of course you don't have a choice;
As if you'd want to stay.
You may miss your friends and family too,
But this move will suit you well.
There's really nothing that you can do,
So goodbye, adieux, and farewell.
[tags]relocation, work poem, funny poetry[/tags]
It's that time, that time of year.
So don't freak out, as downsizing draws near.
And though that word is the cause of much fear,
Let us explain why there's reason to cheer.
Profits are low while costs are high.
Which means we must see where our bottlenecks lie.
Workers not working is usually why
We must bid them adieu, so long, and goodbye.
The odds you'll be axed are three to one,
With a chance you'll be here when we're all done.
And though it seems like we're having fun,
Rest assured that we're having none.
So once we're done and if you're still here,
You can jump on your chair and shout and cheer.
With less fat around the future is clear,
And you'll have nothing to worry about until next year.
Why work eight hours with twenty four in a day?
Why go home at five when you'd get more done if you stay?
Sure breaks would be good and lunch would be great,
And a nap would be nice but it's better to work late.
If you leave much later, the roads will be clear.
And coming in early can only help your career.
Alone in the office, you can concentrate.
You can focus on work, now isn't that great?
It might sound like a lot, working all night,
But with extra hours you can get things done right.
The overtime will help you through your tasks.
Just a little extra time, that's all we ask.
If you have second thoughts just think of the team
And how you're part of this company's dream.
If you think it's too much, or that it's not fair,
Just remember that it's a rough world out there.
An attachment attached to your latest email
Holds promises promised of a naked female.
Opened at once with an eager mouse click,
A program begins a deadly digital trick.
A loop unending won't release its hold
And ctrl alt delete won't do as it's told.
With data dying a death undeserved,
The power button's power is held in reserve.
But what ill effects would come of that act?
Would the hemorrhaging host remain intact?
The risk is great, but the current crisis is greater.
Action must be taken and it mustn't come later.
The boot begins and words fill the screen
And the checker checks to see if it's clean.
The file was fine or so it was thought,
But if it was, would you have what you got?
Then it happens, the moment you feared.
The program restarts and the screen is cleared.
No options are left except for the one;
Format it all for the virus has won.
[tags]poem, email attachment, virus, work humor, office humor[/tags]
The heaving crawl of mechanical beasts,
With drivers headed north, south, west, and east.
They each move along on their painted paths,
Each trying to avoid the other's wrath.
While making sure there are no cops around
They attempt to gain the slightest of ground.
With movements judged by the rest of the herd,
Some daring, crazy, or just plain absurd.
All detours are jammed. All exits a mess.
Finding the fast lane is anyone's guess.
When lights come flashing, they can't help but curse.
They hope there's no wreck, that'd make things much worse.
With fingers in air and honks of the horn,
With desperate swerves and patience all worn,
They're all on their way as slow as can be.
It's home that they're headed, from work they flee.
Monday must be the most horrible of days.
The reasons itâ€™s horrible are too horrible to say.
But with that said, Iâ€™ll try to explain
Why Monday must bring us oh so much pain.
You see on Monday, you work with a frown.
The full work week ahead has gotten you down.
The weekend has come, and the weekend has passed,
And like all weekends it just didn't last.
But Monday sure lasts, it lasts so long.
You keep checking your watch to see what's wrong.
But against your wishes your watch is just fine.
Against your wishes you can't speed up time.
So you sit and you wait and you pretend to work.
You dream of a boss that isn't a jerk.
But then you wake up and you almost cry.
You wish and you wish that the day would just die.
But wait, please listen, don't worry my friend.
For one thing is certain, all Mondays must end.
Now that it's been said, I'll say it again.
More Mondays will come and more Mondays will end.
Friday is most certainly the greatest of days.
The reasons it's great are too many to say.
But with that said, I'll try to explain
Why Friday is better than a day without rain.
You see on Friday, you can work with a smile.
You need only work, for a little while.
For the weekend is near and then you can play.
Much fun to be brought by the most generous of days.
And generous it is, as morning treats can attest.
The cream filled donuts are definitely the best.
But don't dare forget, the bagels are good too.
If there's none in your office, that's too bad for you.
Friday isn't all treats and happy things.
There is but one obstacle the day does bring.
And that, my friend, is the slowing of time.
But if you can bare it, you'll do just fine.
So join with me and laugh and cheer.
The work week's end is drawing near.
Join with me and praise this day.
I've said what I've said, and I've nothing more to say.
[tags]poem, poetry, friday, office, work[/tags]