Fifteen minutes of annhilation each morning
One way transmission bombarding our minds
whilst strategically choosing the next one
to manage out.
Not happy unless inflicting
intense pressure and critical poison on the staff
with the aim to destroy and drive out.
Time is an assassin
Health issues pandemic
Insomnia, Anxiety and Depression
Rising blood pressure
Pending heart attack
as they turn the knife of abuse.
Emergency of the soul as it starts to collapse
Red light as the character continues to corrode
Squash down, destroy staff
Sell and con up to upper management.
Distant management that does not show face
as the manager is given carte blanche to kill their underlings
by severe pressure.
Staff poised ready for the onslaught
Who will they slaughter next?
Narcissism at its most impure
the manager looks only at their own reflection
I am a good manager and if
you don’t like it you can leave?
They remain unchecked as they manipulate
the upper management to believe
the staff are corrupt and have turned against them…
as staff march out the door each month?
Staff leave quickly just to escape the environment
We are urged to empower clients
but at the same time staff
are being abused by management.
Given more than is humanly possible to do
they set us up for high anxiety and
that leads to mental failure.
Decay of character in
the new work place
Post Modern dilemma
as rashes form on our faces
calluses form on our hearts.
Who gave them permission to
destroy peoples lives as
the hammer falls and falters on our heads?
Blood yellow Face black
Conquer and divide the staff
by favouring one staff over the others
Not giving credit to those who are deserving
Rewarding the favourites
Creating internal competition
Making the staff feel uneasy and
insecure trying to devastate inner peace.
The manager’s actions alone trigger all kinds of
High attrition and absenteeism is not a sign of bad staff
but is instead an indication of the
ineptitude of management.
Still the reasons for leaving remain uninvestigated.
Their hostile actions make
hypocrites of what they preach
As they do not practice
a win win win mentality
instead they destroy destroy destroy
No compassion is demonstrated.
Insensitivity is rampant.
Makes our blood boil
blood pressure rise
we are a time bomb ticking
and only financial vulnerability
keeps us soldiering on.
Time is thief
Life is a betrayer
Passive resistance is the only protection
as the staff must put on the armour of war
before each day they enter the door.
Only the need for survival keeps us there
As the hostile environment demands
that to survive we must disengage
Rather then submit to the murder
of our hearts and souls.
They the chosen ones
ride on the success of the hard work
of the victims they hammer
and yet no recognition is given to those
who should receive it.
The manager micro manages all because
they do not trust their staff
to get the work done.
The manager moves with reckless abandon
hammering, white anting, conquering and dividing,
the beast the corporate psychopath.
A power path destroying the fabric of business
and hence society.
Is it really true that 1 in 10 managers have
the profile of a criminal psychopath?
The cult of the criminal mind
the insidious undermining
the blatant favouritism
the shocking destruction of others
where they target and abuse
until either the person leaves
from high anxiety or complete breakdown.
Staff struggle to breathe
Trying not to drown as
they tread water in the muck of this abuse
So exhausted by the energy used to survive
they are too drained to look for work
Self esteem is eroded
Who told them it was ok to make the workplace
a War Zone?
Each word is a bullet of soul destruction where
the knife cuts the core out of our hearts.
Where they set one individual up against another.
Where muted mind try to unravel brilliant minds
Where words always have a motive and
Where nothing is what it seems
Where walking in the office the vital energy is sucked dry.
We pray to escape
We long to break free
We hope to survive and
reveal this so others do not have to be
subject to this utter abuse of the soul
Because this manager is TOXIC and this should
never have been allowed to happen.
Out out out dammed spot.
The destroyer needs to be destroyed
and Toxic transformed to healthy
environment where collaboration,
voice and professionalism reign supreme.
Oh yes this is my cry and this
is my dream.
It does not take much to stay connected
a stroke of your life seems to blend easy with mine.
vibrating essence of thoughts engage living wisdom
taking precarious moments to lunch
thereby exchanging fear for feasting pleasures.
This you have taught me. (hallelujah lyrics)
We stay connected as we serve each other
by pleasing ourselves bathing in star crunched hot springs
embedded outside the peripheral along the path
birthing connective tissues
allowing life to be the leader as we absent-mindedly (follow with heart)…
hand in hand
smelling the rose petal of existence
reflecting souls terrestrial flower as our lover.
ending up where the beginning feels like rain
pounding down on a shelter of our love
we stay connected
we know we are on the path leading to
She’s always been running
Racing towards a finish line
That she couldn’t see
Falling fast and hard
Scraping her knees
She gets up and starts again
Only to fall harder
Each time she falls again
And she keeps falling
But it doesn’t stop her
From trying to win the race
I can hear the voices
of those who had their tongue severed
speaking from the depths
patrolling the dark parts of the ocean
like Shadrach Meshach and Abednego
the hands of angels that fell asleep
in their misery now guide their path
keeping them safe until heaven
is ready to forgive itself for breaking their hearts
the dead voices must be preserved
their history is written on the ocean floor
with the paint from their warrior faces
that were stolen in the midnight hour.
A king was taken while he loved his bride
under an African moon that failed to warn them
his seed fell to the ground never to flourish
when chains became his jewelry of choice.
A pregnant queen snatched
from her throne whilst her blood
suckled her life from nipples
that were supposed to give him kingship
to lead a nation into ever after
he now leads in death.
Tattered sails cover the remains of a young boy
who has become a man on the ocean floor
he still plays with his bamboo toy.
A mother and daughter sit on the bottom
she is still braiding her daughter’s hair
like she was before their hearts stopped breathing
they refused to live the moment after.
I can hear their singing
a soft spiritual
that unites their voices
from Ghana to Sierra Leone
Abidjan and the Cameroons
they are dancing in their tribal wears
warriors from Senegal
with spears that were given back in death
a slave ship
coming alive with history
that once sleeps.