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Couplet Business Poems | Couplet Poems About Business

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Details | Couplet | |

Suicidal Humanity

Our supposed modern scientific genius
May in fact just be our last fatal weakness.
This technological house of cards we've made
Left humanity walking along the edge of a razor blade.

How much could you buy or sell using debit or credit
If someone or something wiped out the internet.
A computer virus, terrorists, hackers, or an E.M.P.--
Will wipe out our hard-earned wealth eventually.

Killing beneficial insects is almost like fratricide.
Think really hard again about ever using insecticide.
How many fields of vegetable plants and fruit trees
Will ever bear fruit if there are no more bees.

Rather than organically producing more living topsoil,
We're killing what remains with chemicals derived from oil.
As chemical contaminants follows their downward motions,
Choral reefs and plankton are dying in the oceans.

As a species, we've all become germ-o-phobic neurotics,
Religiously trying to kill all microbes with antibiotics.
But pharmaceutical medicine will never defeat every bug,
So one of these days there's certain to be a super plague.

So will we all starve because we cannot buy or sell,
Or because the oceans and farmlands have all gone to Hell?
Will we be extinguished by some invincible virus?
What ever it be, the fault will probably lie in us!

I wish I could offer some brilliant inspired solution,
But remember that extinction is also a part of evolution.
You may write me off as some kind of nutty alarmist,
But people that know me consider me to be an optimist.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet | |

Occupy's Struggle

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 - 11/06/11
Inspired by contest - NA

Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2011

Details | Couplet | |

The best job

Your own successful biz,
that's what your best job is!

Volodymyr Knyr
2014

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

How I Got Rich

How I Got Rich and What Happened Then

I used to eat my lunch with groups
of businessman from Campbell's Soups.

We drank a drink at lunch each day
Of Coca-Cola mixed with hay

And talked of pending corporate plans
And willow-haired orangutans.

I spent a lot of time this way
At doing things that were not play.

But while I was away at work
My wife went just a bit berserk.

So I gave my wife a giant tome
To keep her company at home.

I simply, clearly just was not – 
That is to say – at home a lot.

Though fun we had when I was there
Tossing cookies in the air

Or watching Dodgers playing Sox
On multi-colored faceless clocks.

We did these things so much, you see
Because we were so rich were we.

I made my money selling stuff
Like pitted prunes and candied snuff.

I planted seeds from seedless grapes
And sold the sprouts as seafood crepes.

I sold some coffee in a cup
And leased a fork to drink it up.

I sold a man a pair of lamps
With perforated ceiling clamps.

I bought exotic types of booze
And sold it all to polish shoes.

I grew some trees from stale eggs
Which fruited beer in gallon kegs.

I bought a candle and some wax;
I spun them into purple flax;

Then wrote it off as income tax
And stole my lawyer's Cracker Jacks!

I plucked the feathers from a fish
And sold the rest as lic-or-ish.

I sold them all in Topenish
To a man named Cavendish.

He ate it with a real flair,
A certain regal, haughty air.

I made bold plans to tyrannize
A northern Spanish enterprise

In grapefruit-palms and dates and figs 
And maladjusted corkscrew pigs.

(Alas it failed, sad say,
But I got them anyway.)

And when I died, I died in style
Laughing smugly all the while

They put my coffin in its crypt
And read some Damoclean script.

I went away at last to see
The Gates of Heaven welcome me.

God was there, beside the Gate.
He said I was a little late.

I bowed my head, apologized,
Wondered if he realized
 
The angels were all out on strike;
I couldn't drive; I had to hike.

Then a soul ran right past me
As though he simply couldn't see.

Then another did the same
And thousands more -  a horde - they came!

They pushed me rudely to the side
And God told me that I had lied.

Well, okay, I hadn't hiked.
I thought that slow, and so I biked.

As from his Book of Rules He read,
“Tsk tsk-tsk tsk-tsk tsk,” God said.

So PICKED up I my bags and left
For that damnéd lower cleft.

Copyright © John Mudge | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Unknown

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.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

The Library Man

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

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2011

Details | Couplet | |

After I Got Rich

As from his Book of Rules He read,
“Tsk-tsk tsk-tsk, St. Peter said.

So PICKED up I my bags and left
For that damnéd lower cleft.

I stomped away then turned and paused.
How much fuss had my fib caused?

A pardon'd come if I'd just wait.
Saint Pete just smiled then shut the gate.

God appeared with old St. Pete.
"We've a problem. We've got to meet." 

St. Peter said, "It's quite unique.
It's your records. We took a peek

at our polls, all done by Gallup.
Found your number. It's not up.

It takes us two to set things right.
I brought God to use his might." 

God said, "I've never sent souls back.
I did some research. Found a hack.

Turns out this problem's easily fixed.
Just stand still. My potion's mixed." 

A wink a nod a look my way
and God undid the whole last day.

They shook my hand and bade farewell,
said I wouldn't Go to Hell.

They faded slowly from my sight 
and dimmed their glow to black as night.

I reappeared, surprised my wife,
told her let's get on with life.

My death was just a clerical error.
They sent me back. It's only fairer.

We smooched and hugged, went out to eat.
Had pickled oysters fused with meat. 

We ordered crêpes with grated pear 
and lit 'em up to add some flair. 

Then I pondered what to do.
I quick thought up a thing or two.

I'd profit from financial schemes
using cash inversion themes.

I'd buy a cat and teach it tricks 
to wow the guests at trader Vic's. 

I'd give them all tatami mats
and waterproof electric hats. 

I paused a moment. I could see
My brand-new stuff was vintage me!

I mused a while: what to do?
I mused some more and then I knew.

I'm only happy being me. 
My plan was simple as can be.

I'll carry on with selling stuff
like pitted prunes and candied snuff!

Copyright © John Mudge | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Garage sale special

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

Copyright © Donald J Bennett | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet | |

A Horse Of Course

<                                        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


                                             Fleece blankets
                                              Cider drank it


                                              Horns blare
                                              People's stare

                                             
                                        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
G.L. All
                                     

                                     
                                            
                             

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet | |

LIFE IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT

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.
PERFECT...

WONDERFUL IS THE WORLD YOU LIVE IN.
KNOW THAT LIFE IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT!

UTOPIA IS THE IDEAL PLACE.
UNTIL DEATH…

                                                               
Sponsor:	                Dave Wood
Contest Name:   	Life is what YOU make it! 
Entry Date:              Thu, March 06, 2014
Motif:                        Life is what YOU make it!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

Jesse J

Well they done took away ma pension
whilst I waren’t payin no tention.
Never thought thet thar could happen,
Seems ma face they keep a slappin'.

Ah trusted all them folk thet said ah could,
ah took their word like they sed ah should,
but now ah see they jest a bunch a thieves,
Take all ya got and knock ya to yer knees.

Use ta was be you could tell a liar,
plain’s ya could the town crier,
Now they got sneakier ways,
from lots a practice these days.

Them banks and the government’s in cahoots.
Reckon they standin’ in each others boots.
Whisht ah’d a knowed they wuz gonna play those games
Ah’d  a set much lower aims.. maybe like …Jesse James.

Done asked a lawyer onced bout business and ethics.
He laughed and said “Bob, business and ethics don’t mix!”
Never heered anybody say that right out loud…
Still laughin’ at me,.. he walked away proud.

Yep, maybe I’d a set much lower aims…
Reckon I’d a understood… Jesse James.








Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet | |

Human greed

Human greed 
feeds a creed.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

Disappointed

Disappointed


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"

Copyright © Joy Wellington | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet | |

Trust

Trust


It is Life’s mundane must 
To have someone to trust,
Someone we surely know
Trust or loyalty to bestow.

Should in this I have a say:
Best thing to trust is a key!
A key remains so true
Till burgled or broken through.

It will not allow in its store
A “thing” it does not “know.”
It will safeguard that trust
To the finis of “biting” dust!


JM

13th March 2014

Copyright © Joseph Matose | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

Smile Your On Candid Camera

<                                         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



Entry For
Carolyn Devonshire's
Sphinx Head On Mars Contest
G.L. All

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet | |

I PURSUE MY BLESSINGS

I PURSUE MY BLESSINGS On this voyage that I travel, I seek. Treasure is to be found by me. Many miles away I must go to fulfill my soul. This journey I have chosen will end soon. I will treasure the memory the knowledge found. Many miles away I must go to fulfill souls. I am not tripping because I am expeditious. The crossing I chance is for riches. Many miles away I must go ambiance call. I have trek in South Africa. I roamed in the West Indies, etc... Many miles away I must go to prefect. I wandered far and wide. I found a life fortified. To flaunt the blessings I have found. Equipped to conquer more, I am satisfied, thus far. Many miles away I ponder. My rewards are humongous. The world knows. Wealth is shown. Many miles away I treasure hunt. A job well done! _________________________________/ Sponsor: Roger Horsch Contest Name: Many Miles Away Entry Date: March 29, 2014 Date Written: March 29. 2014 Motif: Many miles away

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

We all share this fate

Idiosyncratic to the human condition
Tried and varied, so goes my volition

I can't help but think what's out there for us all?
Yet we stumble over issues that are so trivial, so small

The long term goals of our race seem obsolete
Compared to the wants and needs of our so called "elite"

Sure one man makes billions and creates an empire
What does that mean to the rest of us? Why doesn't it ignite a fire?

Copyright © Christopher Stones | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

Cardboard Inflation

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.

Copyright © Tammy Armstrong | Year Posted 2006

Details | Couplet | |

A bargaining tool

Use not only a stool
as a bargaining tool.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

How I Got Rich And What Happened Then

Written in summer of 1976.


I used to eat my lunch with groups
of businessmen from Campbell Soups.

We drank a drink at lunch each day
Of Coca-Cola mixed with hay

And talked of pending corporate plans
And willow-haired orangutans.

I spent a lot of time this way
At doing things that were not play.

But while I was away at work
My wife went just a bit berserk.

So I gave my wife a giant tome
To keep her company at home.

I simply, clearly just was not – 
That is to say – at home a lot.

Though fun we had when I was there
Tossing cookies in the air

Or watching Dodgers playing Sox
On multi-colored faceless clocks.

We did these things so much, you see
Because we were so rich were we.

I made my money selling stuff
Like plastic prunes and candied snuff.

I planted seeds from seedless grapes
And sold the sprouts as seafood crepes.

I sold some coffee in a cup
And leased a fork to drink it up.

I sold a man a pair of lamps
with perforated ceiling clamps.

I bought exotic types of booze
And sold it all to polish shoes.

I grew some trees from stale eggs
Which fruited beer in gallon kegs.

I bought a candle and some wax.
I spun them into purple flax

Then wrote it off as income tax
And stole my lawyer's Cracker Jacks!

I plucked the feathers from a fish
And sold the rest as lic-or-ish.

I sold them all in Topenish
To a man named Cavendish.

He ate it with a real flair,
A certain regal, haughty air.

I made bold plans to tyrannize
A northern Spanish enterprise

In grapefruit-palms and dates and figs 
And maladjusted corkscrew pigs.

(Alas it failed, sad say,
But I got them anyway.)

And when I died, I died in style
Laughing smugly all the while

They put my coffin in its crypt
And read some Damoclean script.

I went away at last to see
The Gates of Heaven welcome me.

St. Pete was there, beside the Gate.
He said I was a little late.

I bowed my head, apologized,
Wondered if he realized
 
The angels were all out on strike;
I couldn't drive; I had to hike.

Then a soul ran right past me
As though he simply couldn't see.

Then another did the same 
And thousands more -  a horde - they came!

They pushed me rudely to the side.
St. Peter told me I had lied.

Well, okay, I hadn't hiked.
I thought that slow, and so I biked.
 
As from his Book of Rules He read,
“Tsk tsk-tsk tsk-tsk tsk, Pete said.

So PICKED up I my bags and left
For that damnéd lower cleft.

I stomped away then turned and paused.
How much fuss had my fib caused?

A pardon'd come if I'd just wait.
Saint Pete smiled then shut the gate.

A bus rolled up marked Hell this Way.
I climbed aboard. I tried to pay.

"There's no charge as you can tell. 
Outbound's free. You pay in Hell.

This bus is special 'cause it can float. 
Retracts  its wheels, becomes a boat."

The bus was old with not much power.
It bumped along for 'bout an hour

Til a bang and then a thunk 
And even worse a loud kerplunk.

The driver left to check the bus. 
He returned, explained the fuss.

"We're almost at the River Styx.
The bus is broke and I can't fix

The things I found. It's just too tough.
I checked 'em all. I've had enough.

The left-hand gizmo's really stuck.
The Dudkin Ring has gone amok.

I checked the wuffler. It's ok. 
The ring-nut seized I'm sad to say.

A tire's come right off its rim. 
The bus won't start. We'll have to swim."

Then the bus just disappeared
And things for me got really weird

God appeared with old St. Pete.
"We've a problem. We've got to meet." 

St. Peter said, "It's quite unique.
It's your records. We took a peek

at our polls, all done by Gallup.
Found your number. It's not up.

It takes us two to set things right.
I brought God to use his might." 

God said, "I've never sent souls back.
I did some research. Found a hack.

Turns out this problem's easily fixed.
Just stand still. My potion's mixed." 

A wink a nod a look my way
and God undid the whole last day.

They shook my hand and bade farewell,
said I wouldn't Go to Hell.

They faded slowly from my sight 
and dimmed their glow to black as night.

I reappeared, surprised my wife,
told her let's get on with life.

My death was just a clerical error.
They sent me back. It's only fairer.

We smooched and hugged, went out to eat.
Had pickled oysters fused with meat. 

We ordered crêpes with grated pear 
and lit 'em up to add some flair. 

Then I pondered what to do.
I quick thought up a thing or two.

I'd profit from financial schemes
using cash inversion themes.

I'd buy a cat and teach it tricks 
to wow the guests at trader Vic's. 

I'd give them all tatami mats
and waterproof electric hats. 

I paused a moment. I could see
My brand-new stuff was vintage me!

I mused a while: what to do?
I mused some more and then I knew.

I'm only happy being me. 
My plan was simple as can be.

I'll carry on with selling stuff
like plastic prunes and candied snuff! 

Copyright © John Mudge | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet | |

The first shower I experienced this year



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...








Copyright © sashi prabhu | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet | |

Sally version 3

Sally strolls outside her cubicle collecting dinner trays
wiping some while stacking all she carries them to the back.
She's back at cash with ready eyes knowing that people will come;
sometimes soon; more-often late; some of them just to snack.

But while she waits she sips a brew; green tea that's been dipped before.
Then nodding her head she bows and swallows relaxing her vocal chords.
Approached by a customer she rushes her food firm to the spoon she scoops
while piling the plate for six seventy-nine and giving the customer hoards.

With pushy hands she slides their meal across the stainless steel
while raising her hand to take their bills and clipping them in the till.
Then up with change she raises her head and smiles to the customer's face.
And thanks them well with will and grace and hopes they'll get their fill.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

A Petty Imitation

Where there is a petty imitation
There'll be pests, posters of sensation
Grouping of hesitations
Complaints to order, servings of hallucinations
There'll be soap-box amatory slander
About walking coat-hangers slender
It ain't working girl, it's a waling green guile
By his friend in business uptown a mile
By his wife who paints her mirror image
Shades against her daughter's non-marriage
Her tea drained in company of photo albums
Of good old days of bottomless bums
And motherly mums and wives' tales true
But the fashionable unreasonable is turning blue
All the codified glory of yesterday's innocent shame
Now he's not got a gamut of trust in a game
He calls out to his dog, his faith, his fellow
"Round up the gambits and youths in yellow,
'cause I can't move from my comfortable stump."
But his companion is old, stands to wearily slump
Back to the ground to emphasize to his master
That's four legs or two there'll be no muster
Just a dusty breeze of his wooden-coat happening
As diamonds were coal, the rough is hardening
Like a baby can't talk, but it knows what it wants
No you can't understand it, you guess as it taunts
Your patience and moral, your air of knowledge
That you've blown so big you need no tutelage
So you sit and you moan, you grumble and point
You don't dance no more as it'll gnaw each joint
Like you grind your teeth as the heartily speak
As the laughing weak working each day of the week
It's hard but they know it won't last forever
'cause cursing your bread will put you in the gutter
Now that's something you could never understand
Just as your father's father both bit and fed the hand
Now you sit pious in a dynasty out of your control
You had to spread it thin to bank each and every toll
So rest you ill and tainted soul, the blind see more
The deaf hear more, as the mute speak ancient lore
Rewritten as it were to be - a changing people's democracy
An evolution from your pollution and non-decency
A smile for a smile not an eye for an eye
And you'll cry and you'll cry when death strolls in to buy
Your soul at less then half you thought it worth
And bury you down inside the cold, cold earth.

Copyright © Mathieu de Casanove | Year Posted 2009

Details | Couplet | |

Sample Sally

Dearest Sally; your foods gone dry; it's reached the end of day.
You think about your garbage pail and waste you'll leave today.
But I am near, you see me come and pity my thin build.
You give to me your dried out food; the samples till I am filled.
So thanks I say for all you give, each sample from the oil
and peace and joy within your kitchen, forever may you toil.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

I WILL GAMBLE

If I am to be, I must become.
This is because I am strong.

If my life is meaningless, why do I strive for more?
The highs and lows of life keep me focus.

If I am discontent, I must define eradication.
The fight against social injustice removes this procrastination.

If when it rain it pours, I must assure I am secure.
The way to riches, I must discover.

If frustration is visible, femininity forms.
The world tries to suppress a real woman.

If a beautiful person is said to be, why is this negative?
The quality or nature of me brings a green-eyed monster looming.

If it is time for my swan song, I am not singing.
You old in mind before you are in body.

If is a big word, 
I will gamble.

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

Sally version 4

Sally's stuffing eggrolls in the back room.
Filling them with beansprouts
in case they have a boom.

Hundreds of these eggrolls
piled high for later.

Boiled in an oil
for each and every crater.

Some will go behind the glass
warming in a pan;

shining in their dipping oil,
tempting for a span.

Placed upon a plate and shimmied
to the side;

up against some rice
that's deep and dark and fried.

Dipped into a plum sauce
sweeter than a sneer,

and spread out on your plate
as far as you can smear

Flavour by the mouthful
damp and moist and wet

Sally's making eggrolls
the best that I can get.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2013

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Beneath the Power

Beneath the Power


Hard work, no play brings a business to the top
Rules and regulations stick to them alot
Success a priority, many mouths to feed
Firmness and strength is needed indeed
At times it is easy, at times it is hard
Knowing your the boss, the one in charge
Everyday is a challenge 
Lord help me to manage
Tears of stress sometimes gets the best
Sleepless nights, get no rest
The goal is to grow, no room for mistakes
Give it your all and appreciate
Another morning comes, have to stand tall
We are only human after all


Written by:  Debra M. Falgout

Copyright © DEBRA FALGOUT | Year Posted 2012

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So you Have a Lot of Money

So You Have a Lot of Money
By Franklin Price
12/3/2015

So you have a lot of money - Maybe are a billionaire
The how's and why's the way you got it - I myself don't really care
You're working now to keep it - Maybe even want some more
If you're a citizen of the U.S. - You should check up on the score

The environment is capitalist - That gives the U.S. ONE
There are the breaks in taxes - TWO for country for you none
The environment is mostly free - Many places to invest
That's THREE and Four there's so much more - You still have none to pass the test

The Senators and Congressmen - Tend to move most things your way
With your money and influence - You now have ONE and  that is sway
Depends on how you use it - Tells what others think of you
To make more money for yourself - Is not all that you should do

Help make this country better - Bring less fortunate along
Invest in Education – Help put us back where we belong
Invest in others' efforts - To put money in your shoe
To aid in helping others – Gives you a score of TWO

Won't always make you money – Will make you better you will see
To give to others for no return – Gives you a score of THREE
Some rich say no one helped them – You are free these words to say
I can easily show you're lying -  Our founding fathers paved the way

I'm sure that others helped along – Maybe still are there for you
So the way I'm looking at it – Is you owe this country too 
Take advantage of the giving holes – And they won't be voted out
Giving something back to proliferate – Is part of what it's all about

Copyright © Franklin Price | Year Posted 2015

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The heavy swell

A scrub fast comes the heavy swell 
over a man who just does well.

Volodymyr Knyr 
2014

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

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Invisible's Invincibility

I am an invisible man.
Try and see me if you can.

Shy and quiet I remain alone.
Silent is my voice’s tone

No one can feel my pain and sorrow
As I hide inside of my burrow. 

Shadows consume my body and soul
As I embrace the misty cold. 

The reason for my unseen being
Lies in the fact I hate being seen.

This life and existence’s of my own choice
And I choose not to have a voice.

I am silent. Invisible. Inexistent.
Yet I am invincible, an immortal being

Copyright © Granny Face | Year Posted 2012