Remember when ‘personnel’ became ‘human resources’? That's when you turned your back on love, So you could boil us down into units of time, Flexible inventory, best seen from above.
Your spread sheets spat out all those unnatural outcomes; Measuring lives, against the cost of some pills, Or leaving hospital beds empty, to meet health care targets, While unmanned weapons make your 'surgical' kills.
There is no way to rationalise these equations, A minus B never did equal C, But go ahead, you play with your numbers, Just don’t confuse them with me.
Thanks for reading - this is a perennial theme of mine - and this is actually a minor reworking of a poem I wrote a few years ago. I found a version on here posted in 2010 but it seemed so 'current' I revisited it, perhaps I'm haunted!
You titled it perfectly ... great choice as a title.
Immediately I was struck by juxtaposition of "personnel" and "human resources", realizing I have never ever thought about the significant difference of the two terms. That's an excellent choice to contrast, putting the change of attitude towards our everyday working man and woman into true perspective. We have lost the personal in the workplace and we are the big bosses' of the world resources, replaceable when we become out-of-date or inconvenient.
Jeanne: Hello visitors....Thanks for dropping by. Lets revive Poetic Horizons. I'm very tired of Facebook and have never felt comfortable posting poetry there. So look around and register. Lets get this place moving!
Mar 30, 2019 1:55:53 GMT -8
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.