You really fucked it up this time!!!

I'm reading a novel about a writer who's written a novel about another writer's novel, who mysteriously died.... the other night I walked out on a movie about a best selling writer, who's the hero, trying to get to the bottom of his missing secret agent girlfriend (she left you buddy for being a shit actor), which was based on a novel written by a writer.... sound familiar???

Can't writers think about other occupations other than... writers??? Surely they had a day job at some point in their career!!!

I think you get it.

I want you to write a poem in any form, about fucking up at work, because you're off with the fairies thinking about that killer poem and then DISASTER STRIKES!!!! Make good your wrong hero and save the day!!!

Be creative about your chosen profession and disaster, do some research if you have to. New poems, no collabs.

Transfusion


Late night,
The words are flowing
Fast—
Tumbling onto the scraps of paper
I keep in my lab coat pocket
For such occasions
As this.
I pull them out
Between patient samples,
During incubation periods
Or whenever the words must come,
And I write
Furiously,
Each poem better than the one before.

The antibody screen was negative
And the crossmatch, compatible
This time,
But Anti-Jka
Of the Kidd Blood Group
Is like that;
Titering down to hide
Undetectable,
Then resurfacing full blown
When in contact
With the antigen on the red blood cells,
Donor cells.

I write more
Entranced,
And I won’t know
I’ve inadvertently reversed
The donor units
During antigen screening,
Until an hour from now
When the first few milliliters of blood
Barrel down the IV line
Into the awaiting vein
Of Mr. John Doe,
Triggering the hemolytic transfusion reaction,
And swift death,
And investigation….



http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp333/LisaM0214/130723_0000_zps052a6866.jpg

(Photo taken in the blood refrigerator where I work.  And I actually do keep scrap paper in my labcoat pocket to write as the poems come, but I always make sure I do it at appropriate times--dinner break, bathroom break, when no patient specimens are running.  So no worries--I won't give you the wrong blood for a transfusion! )

http://blu.stb.s-msn.com/i/9E/2177A3E94F6B611C37C488C87DF65_h316_w628_m5_casfQTcki.jpg

DO NOT WRITE POETRY WHILE MARKING

TWO JANE SMITHS

Writing poetry
While marking assignments
Two Jane Smiths
One in Nursing
One in Nutrition
Freshman course
Biology NUR-100
Biology NUT-100
Two assignments
They both forgot
To add student ID number
So I accidentally gave A+ to Jane 1
While Jane 2 got an F you....
However Jane 2 was Nursing
The bright light of the school
Came with Florence Nightingale Prize
For freshman having 4.0 or more
While Jane 1 was in Nutrition
Because she was anoretic
Her parents thought
Knowledge would cure her
Jane 2 comes to my office in tears
Ask me to re-read it
Jane 1 is flaunting herself
Though she did not deserve it
Re-read both and the sh_t hits the fan
Jane 2 is redeemed
Jane 1 has parents who go to the Dean
Trying to explain this to my Chair
And the Dean is horrid because
I did not know
Jane 1 has come with an endowment
To the university
A public relations nightmare
I write each student an explanation
With my apologies
Urge them to use their student ID
Think it never happened again
No, they were freshmen
It happened two times
Over the next three years
Then somehow got two Susan Jones
The same thing all over again
Susan Jones became a nurse
How, nobody knows
I will just tell you
Do not go to St. Mary’s Hospital
The obstetrics wing
Nurse Jones is the one
Who got the babies mixed up
Then got fired
Went on to get her M.S.n.
Is now in Preventive Health
That should keep the public safe
As long as she never returns
To active care
As for me
I have taken a temporary leave of absence
Gone to Jamaica
Enjoying myself
For a while
For with my luck
When I return
Two John Does
Will have enrolled!


http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/38/Poster_-_Meet_John_Doe_01.jpg/220px-Poster_-_Meet_John_Doe_01.jpg

Thanks heaps ladies for entering the comp. A great way to start!!! :)

Alex - thank you for hosting this competition.
Good idea!

ANOTHER DAY AT WORK

The fries are in the basket
I think I'll blow a gasket
I think I'll go and murder
If I get another fucking order
I got this song in my head
While all I'm seeing is red
But then, twinkle in my eyes
What's that in the fries, a fly?
It's tiny girl who needs help
The fries are hot so she yelps
Help me, help me, I'll grant a wish
I just want to shove this job and quit
I lift the basket from the grease
Little fairy is burned but pleased
I wish to be able to leave this place
So she bows in all her fairy grace
So I find myself stuck on the road
About to be squished like a toad

Random acts of vandolism. .

Mr. Darkus sat,
Deep in tranquil thought..
Internal cogs turning,
Like the magical sweep hand of a
-cuffed and shackled to this-
Keepsake slave master timepiece
(For we're all slaves to time)
Deepest lines so intricate,
Swarm in a
Million mosquito cloud
Of thought
As
Fluidly, the upstroke of
An L,
His hand writes out
The sonnet of the century,
With the poetic foundation
To concrete this poet
Into the annals of hostorical literature,
As though Poe himself
Climbed,
From the pits of hell
To scratch in blood
Upon parchment
That...
One final stroke of brilliance
Thought of,
Only upon his final breath...
At his miment of death.

As the masterpiece flowed forth
Mr. Darkus
Scribed out in masterful timing
And impeccable format
The story of "I WILL BE TAUGHT IN CLASS
AS A STENCIL OF 'This is how to write'
CREDITS!!"
Classic renditions
Reincarnated to modern tongue and twists..
An epoch of proportions
Unknown,
Appears as a stain left by pigments foreign,
Beneath the utensil in motion
In the surgical precisioned hands
Of Dr. Writer,
From "Storytown,  Equilibrium Confused"..
Elated at the aspect of writing
Mankinds next
"Iliad"
Mr. Darkus snaps
Violently back to reality,
In gross realization that,
Somehow,
In a daydream haze
He in deep regret,
Gets to explain to Dr. Rosenthal's family,
How his newly dead skin
Became adorned
With freshly pocked carvings,
(As though a cave dweller of yesteryear)
In fashion of
"New era Iliad."
Crimson blood scroll,
At the point of a scalpal..
"Dr. Rosenthal unfortunately,
WILL NOT be ready
For his wake tomorrow"...
Explained Master Mortician Darkus...
"Random act of vandolism"...

Intricate_B thanks for you great entry. Hector would be pleased with such a bloody Iliad.

vizard_dhawan thanks for posting the same irrelevant poem over and over on to every comp you find. Perhaps you could try printing it on a Valentine's Day card.... you'll make a killing!

Welcome back poets!!! Now, get back to the fucking grindstone and start milling out those poems. LAST DAY OF THIS COMP!!!

case28 said:Intricate_B thanks for you great entry. Hector would be pleased with such a bloody Iliad.

vizard_dhawan thanks for posting the same irrelevant poem over and over on to every comp you find. Perhaps you could try printing it on a Valentine's Day card.... you'll make a killing!

Welcome back poets!!! Now, get back to the fucking grindstone and start milling out those poems. LAST DAY OF THIS COMP!!!

HEEHEE OOPTH!!! Thank you kindly sir.. I wrote this specifically for the comp. And it is now one of my absolute favorites I've written!!

Congratulations Intricate_B and runners up peacebeuntoyou and MadameLavender. It was a close call, I enjoyed all 3 of them.

Thanks everybody for entering the comp.

I'm excited for this one!! Because of this comp, I was able to explore my dark side. And oh boy, it is a fuuuuunnn side.

Congrats and thanks for the runner up!