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Best Business Poems

Below are the all-time best Business poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of business poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Business Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Business poems are below this new poems list.

Family Business by Inman, Alan
Big Business by Tuason, Thayne
MONKEY BUSINESS by Enriquez, Leon
Its Unfinished Business by Monihan, Rhoda
A STARTUP BUSINESS by Walker , Verlena S.
Business as Usual by obrien, chad
Mind Your Business by Nance, Casarah
Business Affairs by Faries, Marissa
Poetry is a Risky Business by vaso, arthur
BUSY BUSINESS by Enriquez, Leon

View all new Business Poems

The Best Business Poems

Details | Business Poem | |

DARKNESS of the LIGHT

*   DARKNESS of the LIGHT   *

Those that fear the dark,
Have never seen what the light can do.
In this grave, I will leave no mark.
Knowing the tunnel light, is the way God scr3ws with you.
I have no soul to sell, 
Someone jacked my free ticket to hell.
I lived all my life on the verge of a broken dream.
My will locked behind this iron cell.
Only he can hear me scream!
My own prisoner in this bottle shell.
To fear the dark is the devil's scheme.
Watch me as I remove my own shackles from my limbs.
Towards the light, I will never redeem.
A full flavor laugh, 
For he that fears the darkness, and walks the light alone.

              ~SKAT~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010


Details | Business Poem | |

MADE IN CHINA

"Made In China"

They can have my money
If it saves me money

The toys I played with when I was young,
Says I enjoyed their hands
The Labels read 
"MADE IN CHINA"

The cheap material on my back, the shoes I wore. 
How easily they faded and tore
However, I enjoyed their hands
The Tags on my rags;
"MADE IN CHINA"

The car I own saves money on gas
A tiny Honda Civic, takes me everywhere
I love my sweet silver car
"Manufactured in China"

The never been used--Made in the USA--cookware I own,
Says, I don't work hard at all:)
Yummy to Chinese all you can eat take Outs  
Thank you China for being part of this world
Better Yet!
Thank you China, for making this world a part of yours.

MADE IN CHINA 
Shipped easily in a box

~SKAT~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013


Details | Business Poem | |

Ice Cube Pie

I always wanted two slices of ice cube pie
“You only get one”, was the standard reply.
I don’t know why I did
But since I was a kid
It was my favorite treat on the Fourth of July.

The pastry is known by all our relations
Since the recipe’s passed down for generations.
Every bite you’ll savoir
Exceptional flavor
But remember, don’t settle for imitations

Long ago, my great Aunt tried experiments
By leaving out one of the ingredients.
Once Uncle took a bite 
He stared out in fright
And barely survived that bad experience.

My oldest son, Johnny became quite wise
He grew up like the others, before our eyes.
His passion for confection
Was a gainful connection
When he opened the first ice cube pie franchise.

Soon after that, we made our first million
And played in the sun with friendly Brazilians.
But to our surprise
We saw ice cube pies
On bamboo platters next to our pavilion

Right away we knew this was an infraction
Without delay our family took action.
We found a private eye
Who loved our ice pie
But his research left him broken in traction.

It was apparent to us that that kind of job
Was endorsed by the brutal ice cube pie mob.
But we didn’t frown
Or give up and back down
We were going to prevail; oh, yes siree, Bob!

With a meeting of minds we gathered resources
And then undersigned the following courses.
To make sure our ices
Sold at cut-rate prices
To knock competition off its high horses.

So back at the shop we assembled platoons
To build enough pies to reach to the moons.
And made plenty dough
That allowed us to mow
Down the cube racket’s, knuckle dragging goons.

We now manage an ice cube pie monopoly
Sales started smooth, but then turned choppily.
So we eased the frustration
With another vacation
But guess what we saw in downtown Mexicali?!


Copyright © David Fisher | Year Posted 2013


Details | Business Poem | |

Skin Deep

     I love you just the way you are
(after they buff that awful scar)
and laser the tattoos over your heart
I'm sure we're destined never to part
     Remember to tuck up that cute
double chin
     and put those buttocks back where
they'd been
     Do ask about Lypo and
wax that moustache
and while you are at it get those teeth
that flash
     A beautiful smile in no time they say
it Looks great and it seems such a small
price to pay
     For love such as ours that
withstands any crisis
     so while you are there just look
into the prices
     of permanent lashes and
green contacts honey
     and buy some new clothes
for it's well worth the money
a wig or a dye job will top
off the look
     and get those new nails that
we saw in that book
     I love you for you
but it's so plain to see
There's really a much better you
you can be
     So call me next year
after all transformations
(I'm sure you'll exceed all of
my expectations)
     Just fax me a photo
I'll show it with pride
But remember I love you
for the you that's inside!

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2005


Details | Business Poem | |

Interview

Sitting in a cloak of black conservatism:

I feel my hands,
oily on the desk like shortening in
slate gray cookie pans,
the speedway inside forcing the absence of 
reabsorption,

And my thoughts,
so flippant to implore
if a man with a chartreuse neck tie
can see the long wet streaks
across the cherry plane.

He speaks,
a sequence of interrogatives
common to the bored walls
of serious conference,
evoking tone inflection
in the pattern of polite.

Darest I mention truth?

I am your whore;
infect me with smug integrity,
smack me with false prophet leadership,
just leave some crisp bills
on the nightstand, sugar.

Yet my voice models his wavelength,
relaying back the catchy tired language
of one hit wonders;
eyes brighten,
hands extend
from the man who owns a chartreuse tie.

Sigh.

Still,
complacency
awards a loaf of Wonder bread,
and a two bedroom lower.

Copyright © Michele Nold-Godleske | Year Posted 2006


Details | Business Poem | |

Temptation

Your smile, Your eyes I can't deny that I want to try something that I know I shouldn't. 
I'm tempted to touch, to kiss, to go to another level with someone who doesn't even 
belong to me. It's hard sometimes when I remember that feeling, I'm shy but I can be 
crazy if I need to. I can't let that person escape from my soul because then I might try 
to do something I will have no control over so stop looking my way. I can't control 
these urges, Let alone stop thinking about what I want to do. Your making it hard for me 
to walk away. Easy for me to stop pretending. It's so easy to just say I want you, It's 
a physical attraction nothing more nothing less. So I close my eyes and get myself in 
check. But slowly as I open them you can see temptation on my tongue rolling all over 
me. I want to stop but I also want to go. Please temptation please please let me go. I 
don't want to do this but then I see your face and oh I can't believe your doing this to 
me. I hurry and run the other way, A street where you can't catch me. I need to survive 
but i'm breathing hard, sweat dripping down my neck this is what I crave for so 
temptation is lust. A sweet tasty drip of affection from someone that I shouldn't be 
desiring to taste. But I want this and some how my body slaves for this, I need this. 
Thus begins the chase of temptation a race I might not win.

Copyright © Shahana Jackson | Year Posted 2005


Details | Business Poem | |

A Rare Find

Next item up for bid, a rare coin of mine
Is one 1894 s silver Liberty dime
Only 24 of these coins were minted that year
That is, in San Francisco, let me be clear
In case anyone here has a thought to purloin
We have guards and cameras on this valuable coin
It's merely speculation why so few were minted
The fact is, that's all, they permitted
The superintendent gave most to banker friends
But three were given to his daughter to spend
She spent one on ice cream, the other two she saved
After that,there whereabouts weren't written on page
The chances of you seeing another one like this
Couldn't be calculated on one hundred abacuses
This perfect coin is the best ever seen
And the last one that sold went for two million green
If you've deep pockets, want to impress your friends
My rare silver dime must surely make you grin
For two million I'd say, "Going once" at that price
But now 2.5 million I'd say, "Going twice"
Anything over that I would gladly let it go
Pay three million right now and I'll holler, "SOLD"




  For Auctioneers Contest  Feb 23 2016
   Sponsored by Mystic Rose

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016


Details | Business Poem | |

Cash Gone in Tax

Cash
Slashed by
Uncle Sam
Hard earned wages
Burned as income tax
Cash gone like blowing wind
Tax is not like sweet vermouth
This is just like pulling hen’s tooth
Tax going up, paycheck going down
Tax man leave us alone—we need a break!

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Won Honorable Mention
Etheree Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietirch
June 20, 2010

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2010


Details | Business Poem | |

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                





Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013


Details | Business Poem | |

Stones

.



                                  our home
                                  of moss-covered
                                  stones
                                  leading path
                                  of missteps



2/4/1/3/3


.



Copyright © Usual Suspect | Year Posted 2014


Details | Business Poem | |

Not Today, Not Anymore -


For 15 years I have tolerated,
calculated, anticipated, sublimated workplace degradations, derisions,
subversions towards my character,
not today, no more,
yes, my pride has become livid, swollen like a bad bruise on the heart
and I apologize not for my self defense & righteous roil,
I will address you as the mean spirited scoundrels that you are,
no more 'boss - employee' boundry, just one human to another,
No fascade & title to prance behind, no longer above reproach from the lesser,
you are now entering the shock of the 'dead-fall' ,

buck you and your low wages, buck you and your perfect policies,
buck you and your work ethic 'mumbo jumbo',
buck you and the lame insults and false criticisms perpetrated 
against my innocence and motivation,
buck you with your attempts to undermine my positive leadership,
buck you and your inconsistent hours
making a God damn yoyo out of me, buck you and your bonuses,
buck you and your preposterous training videos and ridiculous high school uniforms,
buck you and the belittling psychological questionniares connected to your applications,
buck you and your little managerial conclaves
which produce absurd machinations targeting the hourly employees
that make the place profitable,
wipe your cracks with your silly 'write ups' and legal circumspection bull-slit,
I am not your 'bro.' or 'buddy' , and I sure as shout am not your 'honey' ,
not today, not anymore

I will not allow you to treat me as a tool for your benefit,
I will no longer work faster so that you can save money & leave earlier,
you will no longer be permitted to laugh at me without redress,
you are now dealing with a Man, not just another employee number,
don't worry 'boss', I'll continue to work, I'm not gonna 'quit' ,
but I will not work for you, I am going to work with you,
today is a New Day -

J.A.B.  Dedicated to all hard working Men and Women -

Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2013


Details | Business Poem | |

Red Roses and Wine

********************************

This life has been but a carnival 

Ride within many ways its circus 

Amid silent reels; crimson hues...

Surreal it would seem if it were

Yet only a dream; these scenes

Of looney tooney and howdy duty

At, the seaside spaghetti house...

********************************

..."Red Roses and Wine"

Copyright © sarah seraphin | Year Posted 2011


Details | Business Poem | |

December 21, 2012

The world as we know it will end!
This warning the Mayans did send
But yes there's still time
After reading this rhyme
To honor Black Friday and spend

Copyright © Duke Beaufort | Year Posted 2012


Details | Business Poem | |

The Future Is In My Hands

Just a five minute train ride 
But I'm already far, far away.
Staring out through the speckled windows, 
Highlighted against the setting sun.

I'm lost in the future, 
Thinking, 
Endless possibilities on the horizon. 

Slowly, like the train slowing to a stop.
I regain consciousness in present, 
The busy people squeeze together to get off, 
I slowly rise to a stand behind them. 

A smile on my face, 
Today, 
I walk towards those horizons. 



Copyright © Angela Downer | Year Posted 2014


Details | Business Poem | |

FISCAL FIASCO

I met someone I know quite well, he gets about in cars, does buy and sell.
He spoke to me upon a theme, we were stirring coffee; I had just added my cream.
When (Fiat) money, he intoned..)
This word does it ring a bell?
Of it have you heard; or known, do tell.?
The cost of Fiat cars I then proclaimed?
No it’s of money I speak,he said if it’s all the same,
I had bought some autos and to me the word was told,
That it is money without collateral backing, that’s the truth stone cold!
So in this stressured contemporary rhyme, I think I must… It’s now high time
In fact a lack of sober views and action which did not ensue...
Control! ….. control!, "well they did not" now high (inflation) pop pop pops..!
Consume, consume they said and greed is good for all..!
Poor old Jim john and Doug..)  Rachel, Joan and Queenie McCall..!
A dream was sold and lives were told, It’s Oh! so safe, more so than gold!
Now Fiat cash is on the scene, they run it off Oh! ream on ream
Just like my coffee encircling mug, so here’s to the truth lets give it a plug.
When I again pour in my cream, 
as it begins to merge like inflations infusion, Maybe I’ll dream.
That financial fiasco’s and social screams are only rumours on a jittery theme,
However until "their problem" has been (sold),  I’ll trade some paper cash for gold.

© Joe Maverick 13-11-2010

Copyright © Joe Maverick | Year Posted 2010


Details | Business Poem | |

New Future Of The Internet

New Future Of The
Internet


Cable cost are up
too high
You turned to the
internet and so have
I

My Youtube channel
is the way to go
Now I can even make
video shows

I group the videos
to make a show
To bring you the
best of where I go

For kids the mower
and stove videos
I also have vehicles
and some scarecrows

Kids can watch from
morn til night
with lots of things
for a kids delight
							
Light houses, ship
building, and horses
too
Antique barn yards
and tractor pulls
just for you

Aviation, taxidermy,
and crafty wood
works
Viewwithme Youtube
has all the quirks 

The historical homes
make a great tour
Contest and oxen
pulls are never a
bore

Animal friends, I
haven’t forgotten
you
I have horses, dogs,
cows and sheep too

Plenty of petting
pens and milking for
you
And a simple click
is all you have to
do

A lot of shows with
a mix for all
Like demolition
derby or a stunt so
tall

So if you dropped
the cable and you
have a need
I have three
channels for you to
see
 
By: Doris Anne
Beaulieu
     
https://www.youtube.com/user/Viewwithme

Copyright © Doris Beaulieu | Year Posted 2014


Details | Business Poem | |

Titanic Forever

My father had been out of work for way too long.
At night, I often heard him and mom weep
Food was scant, but love was strong. 
As was that hunger pain when I lay to sleep.

My little brother was too young to understand.
Still a babe in arms, he brought our only smiles.
I loved to play with him and hold his tiny hand.
It seemed to take away the hurt from life trials.

Then, one-day dad came home all excited.
He was talking so fast, grinning from ear to ear.
He said that our future was well fated.
That we were in for adventure was clear.

It was that new ocean liner, the Titanic. 
Dad had been hired for the maiden voyage.
We were going along as his sidekick.
A family destined for American homage.

In just five days we boarded that ship.
Immigrating was a dream come true.
Accommodations would be a hardship.
But it was worth opportunities…new.

Dad worked as a scullion in the restaurant.
We were housed on the lower deck.
It was a very crowded lodgment.
We stayed together until the shipwreck.

Sirens were screeching people screaming.
We could not find dad anywhere.
Was he locked up as a cageling?
Could it be true; was he trapped down there?

Lifeboats were being lowered.
Mom held my brother, crying.
Dad must be somewhere cloistered.
We all feared a dreadful dying.

Someone put me in a lifeboat.
I reached for mom as it descended.
The Titanic was still afloat.
But my family separated.

The water was freezing.
I had forgotten my coat.
People crying, sniffling, and sneezing.
The lifeboat soon became an iceboat.

Within a few hours, death began.
Shivering, I crawled beneath two corpses.
A young girl destined to live without her clan.
Hidden from polar breezes.

That was the last time I saw my mother.
My mind holds the image clearly.
She, calling for dad, was cuddling brother.
Oh, how I loved my family dearly.

When rescuers finally arrived.
I was the only one alive in the lifeboat.
Beneath those bodies, I survived.
Then, I was wrapped in a warm coat.

I never did see America.
I was sent to an orphanage back home.
Life had dealt a great trauma.
Forever had sunken in the ocean's foam.

© April 9, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest:  My heart will go on and on.... Free Poetry 
Sponsor	Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2012


Details | Business Poem | |

The Cancer Industry


here in our country,
people suffer in cancer.
it's industrial prism.
no one can't get away.
one has hired just last year,
then see what it'll turn.
 after three trimesters,
a new life will appear.
this pandemic illness.
of somebody's flesh.
cling to one another's,
set an immoral quest.
this world has carried over,
with the hand of a beasts.
and he who obeys him,
will taste the sweetness of defeat.
single or married women,
can be fell on this trap.
inside the cave of a lion,
all its wanted is lust.
people using people,
rulers must play their role.
to stop filling the bowl of trash.



Aiyah_025

philosophical

Entry poem for :Giorgio V.'s Impress me with a small poem V (Yay)

** 2nd Place Winner**

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014


Details | Business Poem | |

Just What Is A Broken Dream, Anyway

A strange sight upon a lonely road.
A dream ripped in half.
Looking closer, I wonder what was the travail.
An old price tag attached, making me wonder at what price it was sold.
Along the edges, tattered and torn, it gave forth an evil laugh.
As if some sly devil concocted a way to turn someone pale.

Onward I traveled, with pack upon my back.
To the left and right of the road were littered with more broken dreams.
So many that one could not keep track.
Some having been blown into the parallel stream.

So, I checked the pack upon my back.
And, yep all my dreams were there in a stack.

Cold winds howl, trying to rip my back pack to shreds.
Freezing were the winds, but forward I march.
Never losing sight of my dreams in spite of many dreads.
They all hold up strong even though many times I'm in a lurch.

Suddenly I see people returning to the road.
Going back and picking up their dreams.
Dusting them off and restoring them to their pack.
Each and every one said to me, you are quite bold.
To go forth and not let the cold winds of fate not destroy your knack.
To face life as it comes and not give up even if offered gold.

Good, bad fortune, are likewise of no importance.
Put a failed dream back in your pack and maybe a new day will appear.
Where you can unpack that dream and give it another go.
But, for today, march forward, today's failure might tomorrow's dance.
You gave it your best, and win or lose, that game has ended with a spear.
Win or lose, that game is done so pack it's knowledge away in your pack and grow.

Suddenly down the road a new vista appears and a brand new game.
Left high and dry or victorious are the two possible ends of any venture.
But in truth, knowledge is all you will have, win or lose.
For tomorrows game is just around the bend, all the same.
Win or lose, the game of life only ends for the moment within sight of the new adventure.
So, to quit and call it the end, only makes you look like a goose.




Copyright © James Ray Morris | Year Posted 2010


Details | Business Poem | |

Chico's Fruit Stand

She found him in the yellow pages.
"Do you sell pecans?"

"Yes Ma'am, we do."

"I make a killer pecan pie,
how 'bout a trade?"

"You've got a deal."

"I have two, 
still warm from the oven."

"I'll take both."

She delivered the pies,
purchased oranges, plums, 
pineapple and grapefruit.

She bundled out, arms loaded 
with fruit, and all the pecans
previously displayed on his counter.

His voice followed her to the car,
"My favorite is coconut cream,
still warm from the oven."


Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014


Details | Business Poem | |

Sugar Cuba

                 Sugar Cuba?
What's so normal about normalization?

We become a little more socialist
They become a little more capitalist

We all meet in the middle and hold hands… How sweet!

They give us Cuban cigars
We give them rap music
A form of torture

We can now visit Cuban hotels
Cubans can visit Disney World

My only question is
Does Cuba have toilet paper?

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014


Details | Business Poem | |

A Cold Day In Hell

============================
I sit at my bench again,
this whole scene is getting old.
Same old sinners skulking in,
same defense a trillion-fold.

Now the room fills up with steam.
Next, flames shoot up through the grate.
I'm so bored I want to scream!
Here's the part I really hate...

Blah, blah, blah, "I beg you, sir,"
"Tell Him there's been a mistake..."
Ugh! Stop drooling on my fur!
YOU'LL be burning at the stake.

I've been doing this so long,
I forgot when it began.
Sentencing the endless throng
of the very worst of man.

NEXT...! Let's go - don't hold the line,
I've got legions more to see.
Quicksand. Sharks. Irate canine...
Punishment is up to me.

Used to be I really dug
civic aspects of this job,
now I just want to unplug
from this whole unholy mob.

What if men just acted right?
What if more went UP, than down?
Maybe I'd take off a night...
or perhaps go out of town...

Wait - did I just have that thought?
Oh my badness, I'm not well...
Feel my head - am I still hot?!
...Guess there ARE cold days in hell!

============================

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015


Details | Business Poem | |

Equalitoria

To a place with no money
I'm takin' a hike
Where you work for your food 
And you build what you like 

No permit is needed 
For the castle we'd build 
No laws must be heeded
For the deer that we'd kill 

A town marketplace 
Where citizens share 
And the stock market crashes 
Cause nobody cares 

And the smell of fresh food 
Is rich in the air 
Cause the barber must eat 
For cutting our hair 

And the hunters are tired 
From catching the game 
And the culligan man 
Is catching the rain 

And the doctors and lawyers 
They never complain 
They sold their Mercedes 
But they're happy they came 

The police are not crooked 
Just fat as can be 
Cause there's nothing to do 
When everything's free  

Not a single hard worker 
Is wanting to leave 
There's just one blasted problem
It's only a dream 





 



Copyright © Kyle kriticos | Year Posted 2011


Details | Business Poem | |

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 | Business Poem | |

Debt And The Devil's Dancers

Everybody needed something,
and there was always something in the world that needed somebody,
debt is all about connections to affections,
sustenence to stimulus is only half of the formula,
igniting the impetus is provenance of the pursuit,
debt's birth is in the body of temptation,
in the language of lust,
we all find reasons for indebtedness as architects provide strengths for stones,
always a tune to toil for,innumerable impulses to imbibe in the heart's hollows,
needs & wants wants & needs,a crisscrossing of the conscious,
vacillation like breath on candle flame,
on which branch will your bird discover the berry,
what good is satisfying the basics if we are denied exploration of the scenics,
wonderment wrapped in wishes of mocking mortality,
robes of rose petals,
the less we create for ourselves the more we fawn for the fingers of others fantasies,
impatience an instrument for the Devil to revel and drum,strum and hum,
born into a carnival of the careless and criminal
the Devil has a dream and your his favorite dancer,
you hear in his voice a reflection of yourself and drown in delerium,
a community of stage hands supports your every scream
and silence your shouts for sovereignty,
buy the whole of the basement
but be prepared to be buried there,
a necropolis of creditors and debtors,
expired expressions on the faces of orphans kept alive by water colors
from the pallet of pleasure and perfumes of paradise,
as the spectacle ends the Prince of poverty greets us where dogs bark baldly
and the air is gray with cold,
he grips our hands with a lion's paw and cries coolly  -

J.A.B.  2011

Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2012