Leadership Poems

If you like, lis­ten to me read this post.

As I’ve checked my blog stats late­ly, I’ve found many search­es for “lead­er­ship poems” or “poems about lead­er­ship.” I’m assum­ing this rep­re­sents an unmet need, if only as the prod­uct of some class­room assign­ment some­where around the world. I can hear it now, “Write an essay based on a poem about lead­er­ship. Check out the net.”

You know, it real­ly does­n’t mat­ter where the inter­est comes from, does it? If you are look­ing, here’s nine of them, and I invite you to add your own. As long as you like and as long as they are based on some­thing impor­tant to you. You don’t have to be the author — just add what you like, accord­ing to this not-so-sub­tle motif.

1

After work we sat in a circle
drink­ing our beers;
there was more bad news from Washington.
Famil­iar talk, it was all one long lament
and would have gone on like that
with even the boss join­ing in.
Except for some­one who had­n’t spo­ken yet
who said, “You know, maybe it’s time
and now there’s a chance for us
to be bold.”

2

The man­agers themselves,
not usu­al­ly prone to whining,
were whin­ing today about those upstairs.
“They don’t under­stand us” was the theme,
“They don’t give us a place at their table.”
“Hey,” she respond­ed, the one who actu­al­ly led us,
“The truth is there is no table.
If you want something,
it’s time to invite them here.”

3

We kept circling
a whirlpool
of real­ly bad ideas
until final­ly, shoot­ing me a look,
he let down his guard.
“I’m not comfortable
with any of this,” he said.
“We’re not telling the truth
and it’s still up to us
to make the call.”

4

We need­ed the facts
and we knew she couldn’t say them,
a mat­ter of pol­i­cy, you know.
But she said this to us anyway:
“Ask me, I’ll tell you as much as I know,
even if the lawyers would object.”

5

Instead of strik­ing back,
he thanked the one of us
who brave­ly first told him
about his most annoy­ing habit:
mak­ing speeches.

6

She said, “I’ll tell him,”
and she meant what she said.
The next day she calmly
walked forward,
speak­ing for all of us.
“You’re not pulling your weight.”
That was it, just so clear,
and her, with­out rights in the mat­ter at all;
not a boss, not a friend.
After that,
he had to change.

7

He got promoted
again and again,
each time find­ing a new team.
At first, when­ev­er he moved,
want­i­ng them to under­stand him
want­i­ng them to trust him,
he asked too many questions.
But lat­er, as time went by he learned
to begin by just say­ing his name
and telling the whole sto­ry of his many successes
and of his many failures.

8

It was a tough industry,
most­ly scrap­ping for jobs,
bilk­ing and expect­ing to get bilked.
Nobody made it
with­out los­ing a piece of soul.
He looked into it hard,
saw how the whole thing
was based on bad religion
and fear.
Suc­cess came to him, but later
and by liv­ing modestly
a new thing entirely
called
abundance.

9

She knew she couldn’t do
what she’d asked of herself,
so instead of giv­ing up
she told us instead:
“I need your help,
I don’t real­ly know
how to do this.”
That was the day
everything,
the whole room
and all of us
caught fire.

Technorati Tags: Reflections and Poems