These Business Couplet poems are examples of Couplet poems about Business. These are the best examples of Business Couplet poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
How often do you visit the Library? And what do you see?
I see oceans and seas of books plus a homeless man doing zzz’s..
He’d apparently been reading before, he fell deep asleep.
He can stay there, they say, as long as he doesn’t lie down to sleep.
Sitting up is OK and of course, as long as he doesn’t create a scene.
He’s kind and gracious and a little strange but can debate any role
When he walked over, we had a talk about the devil verses mind control.
Without asking, what he really wanted was someone to buy him lunch.
There’s a McDonalds two doors down from where we were bunched.
I don’t know what I expected when he woke up and looked around.
But when I asked if he was homeless he wasn’t fazed at all.
Yes, I have been for a while, he said, but my boat will soon come in.
And I realized the library is a warm, safe place to relax and to be.
And the librarians seem content to just let him be.
In the end, I was sorry I couldn’t buy him that lunch.
But recently, my abilities to do so had become a little stretched.
I used to buy the books I read… now the library is more my taste.
I just hope if it comes to that… he’ll graciously share this place.
The library even has computers from where you could write.
And the people there are varied and really rather kind.
I’m on the edge but whole family’s once prosperous are already there.
Cheap hotel rooms in even cheaper hotels, once skirted are full.
The jobs don’t pay for anything more. They are: Bitter, Disgruntled, Lost.
Needed are better and more jobs to re-establish the American Dream.
To give them some hope so they can go back there again…
And don’t just act toward them… like they’re your library man…
Give them back their American Dream as best you can.
Voice of Reason Contest
< Horses and snowflakes
Illuminating to it's tongue's pallet's plate
Open carriage rides
Falling flakes in the eyes
City strewn lights
Hoof's echoing through out the night
Cider drank it
New York's Central Park
An home for many after dark
Four miles of bridal paths
Drawn coaches to bring you back
So horses and snowflakes
Fills this ones poet's pallet's plate
Written By Katherine Stella
My Theme Was Both
Horses And Snowflakes
This Is An Entry
For Constance ~A Rambling Poet 's ~ Contest
For sale a bunch of fine unused words, many misspelled
Poet can’t uses them; mind is on strike, the pen has been stilled
These words never used for they never quite seemed to fit
Got them online; advertisement said they were a complete poetry kit
Can’t send them back because I did use a few; the remainder unused
Selling at half price; many are funny words which will leave you amused
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
Still angry from revolutions long past
Greed wondered how long it would last
The occupy people have been asleep
Their eyes closed not making a peep
Now awaken they look at privation
Asking what's happen to their nation
Progress was not suppose to add more
For all of those who are money's whore
The plan was suppose to provide enough
For those struggling in life finding it tough
Wondering if it's too late to escape their fate
Revolution or Armageddon may be on the plate
Now for occupy to really develop and grow
They will need to find new ways not to owe
~ Edward J Ebbs
Madam Chair, could we please get to the point
Let’s decide today which group we will appoint
Too much effort and time has already been spent
Already deep in our budget there is a major dent
Last year unanimously, Browns’ were appointed
This year we would like another company instead
The stench of poorly made products is burning our nose
Are we prepared to suffer more lost with another dose
All our company’s resources, time and energy is sapped
While Browns’ continue to splurge and margaritas sipped
Are we going to be content and in our easy chairs sit
While our time, finances and energy go down to the pit
Written by: Joy Wellington
For Catie's contest "Word Games"
BIRTH OF NEW IDEAS IS INVENTIONS MADE.
YOUR INQUIRIES INSINUATE.
AMBITIONS GET YOU UP AND ON THE GO.
THEREFORE, SET YOUR GOALS.
OPTIMIZATION MAXIMIZES FUNCTIONALITY.
WONDERFUL IS THE WORLD YOU LIVE IN.
KNOW THAT LIFE IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT!
UTOPIA IS THE IDEAL PLACE.
Sponsor: Dave Wood
Contest Name: Life is what YOU make it!
Entry Date: Thu, March 06, 2014
Motif: Life is what YOU make it!
< sphinx ~ head
who ~ said
roman ~ God
without ~ bod
shadow ~ illusion
causing ~ confussion
butte ~ mesa
I ~ guess ~ a
transition ~ zone
with-out ~ phone
oh ~ my ~ cydonia
don't ~ all ~ just ~ wanna ~ ya
Sphinx Head On Mars Contest
Could feel the smiling and risen sun all gleeful and gay,
It had ushered in me a beam of energy earlier today.
Could sense now at twilight it chuckle at the rising milky white moon,
And softly in me restore its light to make me excite and swoon.
The virgin cold watery sprays of the falling drops of rains,
Slowly washes my worries off my face and down the drain.
The fragrance of wet mud and lush sweet garden breeze,
Blows into me, pure strength and happiness in me gradually increase.
As I walk bare feet, wet grassy paths of my garden gently,
My subdued muffed up feelings erupt over my heart’s brim intently…..
I let go of all feelings and experience inside me a sensation so very light,
my vision clears and thoughts to me for my life's path ahead seem so very bright...
A paper road and car of clay,
A garden made from pencil shaves;
With fields of crayon flowers drawn,
Beyond the shoebox house and lawn;
Old wax paper forms the boat,
That sails under a cardboard moat;
A fence made out of new toothpicks,
Erasers used as driveway brick.
A crafty home in taped décor,
Now sat atop my basement floor;
A dynasty of paper trails,
Completed with a sign, “For Sale”,
Was printed in the Classifieds,
To see who’d purchase such a buy;
One hundred callers did implore --
The only place they could afford.