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 |

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 |

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 |

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 |

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 |

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 |

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 |

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 |

Human greed

Human greed 
feeds a creed.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

The Bailout Ballad - The Layman's Lament

One day not long past our economy faltered
And wouldn’t improve if our course were unaltered.

'Cause we buy stuff at Wal-Mart (where things are dirt cheap)
'Cause they buy from China (treats workers like sheep

(So farmers left farms and moved to the city.
And hoped for life better (no luck, such a pity) )).

They went right to work (but folks who had power
got 'em to work for six bits an hour).

To make matters worse our credit froze up.
Couldn't spend - couldn't borrow - couldn't buy a tin cup.

You think this is bad?  It's downhill from there.
Institutions cried "uncle" - said cupboards were bare.

Couldn't borrow, couldn't lend, no business as usual.
So they opened their books to wide-eyed perusal.

Our Treasury Secretary called Congress to action.
Said money was needed to unfreeze this impaction.

So they gave loads of money to our secretary mighty
Who they said was quite stern and not the least flighty.

He'd disburse the funds wisely with skill and great cunning.
He'd soon save us all with our economy running

Full tilt dead ahead.  We'd all have great jobs.
Or funds to build business.  No more wailing.  No sobs.

But he hadn’t a plan, no clue what to do.is
Gasp!  I’m shocked!  I’m surprised!  Weren’t you?

"The problem's bad assets.  I know what to do.
Throw billions to the wind to buy them from you!

It's a crisis, a panic, no time to lose!
So give me 300 billion dollars to use!"

Congress quick cut a check - didn’t ask any questions.
Full speed ahead - damn the objections!

Then five minutes later, he said.  "Sorry, my bad.
Sky's ok after all.  Billions gone.  So sad."

Next thing you know ’nother check's in the mail.
Now they thought lenders were too big to fail

So they gave them our billions and tried to act manly:
While sheepishly mincingly bailing out Morgan Stanley!

Money still wasn’t flowing so they tried a new tack.
Gave money to banks they needn’t pay back!

And what of the money they’d gotten for free?
They’d loan me the money they’d gotten from me!

The banks got a downpour but oh life is fickle.
While they bathe in money – for me?  Not a trickle.

Then came execs who'd wrecked A-I-G
They wept and they pleaded and cried, "Please save meeee!"

Fannie Mae queued up next just before Freddie Mac
Who lent money to people who couldn't pay back.

Congress gasped (so we'd notice) and then cried "Enough!"
To make it look good they called Lehman a bluff:

Sacrificially beheaded poor Lehman Brothers.
They gave them no money (unlike all the others)

But kept spending funds like water that's runny
With glee and abandon, disposition so sunny.

Through Fingers of Congress funds flowed like warm honey.
'Round town it got spent like Monopoly money.

"A billion here and a billion there and soon it's real money!"
I laughed once before but now it's not funny.

I’m sure I would spend it way better then you.
A deaf ear I'd turn to pleas of "me too".

I can't hear the cries the wails the shouts
The So Helpless pleadinghim beseeching handouts

And we're still on the hook for money by tons,
A stack past the moon if you use only ones!

How much do we owe?  Lean close and I'll tell you.
It’s the biggest darn number that ever befell you.

It's 3.5x10 to the twelf – 
A number so huge I can't count it myself.

So I worked with my neighbors and friends that I knew.
We'd just about finished when it quivered and grew.

We bravely pressed on but got worried because
It grew to a monster ten times what it was.

It far, far exceeds all the debt on my house.
Makes my debt seem much smaller than a flea on a mouse.

So here's what I owe, scientifically noted.
(No interest – it's merely the loan the bank floated)

It's 1.2x10 to the fifth.
If you say it's a trifle I'll really be miffed!

To me it's a fortune, a mountain, a gob.
It's enormous, it's huge –  a train-wreck-size glob.

But to you with your trillions it barely rates mention
A blip even smaller than my crummy old pension.

I'll make a comparison to give some perspective.
Divide smaller by bigger – a percent’s the objective.

The quotient is less than the least you might fine us:
Just 3.4x10 to the eighth minus!

That's 3.4 millionths expressed as percent
If you lost that amount would you care where it went?

If it fell from the table it wouldn't be missed.
Only know it was gone if you looked at your list.

Compared to the bailout and financial-type terror
My mortgage amounts to a small rounding error.

The amount is so small, a grain you can't see.
How much could hurt if it came back to me?

But accountants all say it would just cause inflation.
They say if I had it I could harm our whole nation!

Imagine that.  Me!  Oh the power I've got!
So just you tell me: should I use it?  Or not?

The problems roll on and Congress still spends.
Ford, G-MAC, and  Chrysler - the list never ends.

I want to flee far away when I consider this bailout.
Catch the next boat, settle in, and just sail out.

I’d find me a country where companies are smarter
And don't need my help like a belt needs a garter.

Whoops, I forgot.  It spans the whole world.
It catches each breeze like a sail unfurled.

So I fret and I grimace - it’s now up to trillions.
How long can it be ’til they’re spending quadrillions?!

Copyright © John Mudge | Year Posted 2016

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 |

My Corporate Life and How It All Ended

I met with some bankers in fine textured suits.
I struck a deal quick. (I had such a knack.)
I offered rare cacti and tropical fruits – 
a cure-all for things that ail your back.

I served 'em a dish of oysters and clams
flavored with herbs from high remote lands
accompanied by slices of seaweed-cured hams
served on a bed of tri-colored sands.

I once struck a deal with some Wall Street investors.
I short sold 'em stocks that didn't exist!
But they got me back (those sly empty-nesters)
by making fake deals I couldn't resist.

All of my days got dreadfully busy.
Held hour-long meetings in 10 minutes flat!
Made my staff tired bewildered and dizzy.
But business is business, and that was just that.

I can't quite say what we did at each meeting.
We talked and debated. We yelled. We screamed.
We'd discuss in soft voices (those moments were fleeting)
but when we agreed I'd smile, even beamed.

We dreamed of grand things and plans we would make.
We had a huge goal: we'd conquer the market!
(Of course we had kids. This was for their sake.)
Put your ear right up close. I'll whisper our target.

What we make is no secret. Our dream is the thing.
Our stuff the world uses. It can't do without.
Our competitors fear (while secretly hoping)
we'll become a cartel and buy them all out!

So here's what we make (a simple thing really).
You use it at dinner, at breakfast and lunch,
when it's hot and it's steamy or cold and it's chilly.
Donuts to dollars you must have a hunch.

It can fix anything, an all-purpose tool.
It will open a can, pull the cork from a bottle,
even fix all your plumbing (now isn't that cool?).
Under the hood it'll fix your car's throttle.

I know that you're anxious. I know you can't wait.
I'm making the point. Sit still and don't fidget!
Now no more pondering and staying up late:
We make what you use: a gadget and widget!

Making millions and billions takes plenty of people
so our company grew, got huge and kept growing.
A company needs growth. A church needs a steeple.
You see how it works? We just kept on going.

We hired by hundreds and thousands and more.
We worked 'em like slaves, paid dimes even less.
They threatened to strike, even steal the store
but we had the power! We could hardly care less.

We'd fire 'em in masses, by hundreds and dozens.
We gave them no notice, we paid them no pension.
We fired them all, brothers sisters and cousins.
We paid off the media so they'd give us no mention.

But shedding the people only solved half the puzzle.
We had to make gadgets. Work had to get done.
Just how could we do it? We put hands on our muzzle.
No output, no profit. So how could we run?

At midnight one day I awoke with a start.
My plan was so clear, so cool and so cunning!
We'd go overseas! Boy oh boy was I smart.
I finally knew how we'd keep right on running.

We worked day and night  'til after sunset.
We all worked nonstop. We even skipped meals.
We outsourced our stuff. Then I flew a jet
to scour the globe for even more deals.

Gov'nments,  no scruples – such were fair game.
Why, you might ask, do business with these?
The answer is simple: except for the name
they've two things in common: the gov'ment wants fees

which makes labor cheap (it costs odds and ends).
The less I pay out the more left for me!
It works like a scale: when my side descends
their side goes up. It's logic you see.

My scheme soon paid off. We spanned the whole globe.
We owned our competitors by tens and by scores.
To find where we weren't you'd dig and you'd probe.
Gadgets and widgets in millions of stores!

A few weeks of this about did me in.
I crawled to my bed and slept a deep sleep.
I dreamed a strange dream of goodness and sin.
And I chatted with God about what I could keep.

He said in the end it was all up to me
but my state of affairs just didn't look good.
Pearly Gates entry he couldn't quite see.
Suddenly in front of St. Peter I stood.

We discussed and we bargained, tried to see eye to eye.
Well most of that's true. He discussed and I bargained.
(I knew I would lose but I still had to try.
I thought that maybe he could just be out-jargoned!)

But this wasn't happening. It was only a dream!
I still felt uneasy. It seemed to mean change.
Dreams being dreams things aren't what they seem.
Abandon my business? I couldn't. Too strange.

St. Peter spoke more. He had some suggestions.
“Do something useful. Help orphans and widows.
People have needs. Look around. Ask some questions.
And ask your friend Sid. I know that he knows.

And oh by the way, those countries you mention?
At least say you're sorry. It surely can't hurt.
Don't make a big show. Avoid causing tension.
Just say it with meaning. Try not to be curt.”

I blinked, rubbed my eyes, then blinked a bit more.
I stretched and remembered I had to call Sid!
Now what was his number? I had it before.
Just have to remember where I had it hid.

I looked in my book. No Sid in there.
It was then that I wondered: did I even know Sid?
Did I sleep? Am I up? I'll pull out a hair.
Ouch! I'm awake! Gosh I never did!

I recalled Pearly Gates and remembered my dream
and trying to bargain with good ole St. Pete.
(That stayed in my head (strange it may seem).
We'd discussed and debated. St. Pete's hard to beat!)

I'll allow he's a point. I won't pick a nit.
I've been mostly right (just a little bit wrong).
Ok, ok maybe more than a bit.
I'll set things to rights. We will get along.

I promise I'll do what I possibly could
But he's asking a lot. (It's starting to sting.)
I really don't want to but know that I should.
Mumbling and grumbling I'll do the right thing.

(He did all he promised, or so we are told.
He did what he said. He even did more!
He valued his friendships more highly than gold.
His laughter showed that kindness went right through his core.

Copyright © John Mudge | Year Posted 2016

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

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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

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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

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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

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A bargaining tool

Use not only a stool
as a bargaining tool.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

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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

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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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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

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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

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The heavy swell

A worm soon comes the heavy swell 
over a person who does well.

Volodymyr Knyr 
2014

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

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

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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

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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

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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

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Commercial Stomach Hospitality

Large is this arena with its environs petting health welcoming colours seducing the gut to acquire wealth. Customer attestation plants its large visible post as flaunted gentleness and calm beautifies the host. Waitresses and cleaners, more than enough website casting spells on clients to give them a blind foresight. Every meal is an atmosphere of valentine capturing this beauty already gives the taste of old wine. Dish after dish everything is served including ice coming in different forms and quantity even if it’s a slice. Services for a good sight and blessed stomach all combine to make leaving from coming clearly refined. Flooding into this venue is a wide stream one aim, one need, one satisfaction- what a big team. Being faithful to meals, the neighbourhood stays upright the strong desire for the nearest visit still stays bright. Every first visit comes with expectation in a long coil after the course, the wonders is served wrapped in aluminum foil. To the glory of this place, beauty and satisfaction stand its lexis making it the city’s most attractive and sought after axis.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016