Best Cash Poems


Premium Member Cash Cow

I was blessed by a golden cash cow
She’s a wonderful friend to me now
For those in the know
She goes with the flow
Here’s my tribute, may she take a bow!

12~27~16

Premium Member 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!

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

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© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., (Epulaeryu Master) 6/11/2010
All Rights Reserved, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA
Senior Advisor, to Founder of Motivational Strips
Ambassador De Literature
Noble Star of Literature 2018
Living Legend of the 21st Century
Pentasiv B World Friendship Poetry Featured Poet 2019

Premium Member Johnny Cash, a Southern Gentleman

by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot » Sat Mar 26, 2011 12:46 am 

                             Johnny Cash, a Southern Gentleman 

  

I knew Johnny Cash but never got to shake his hand 

A hero, myth and a legend to so many that adored him 

To me he was just a country boy , fine Southern gentleman 

Entertaining , caring and unselfishly giving his best to them 

  

He wrote and performed music of the simple freedom and country ways 

Lyrics so heartfelt that tears naturally fell gloriously from the skies 

Of love , life , danger, death and redemption that brings greater days 

Seeking the answers to the questions of the how, where,  when and whys 

  

Gifting us all with his spirit and his love of helping those in need 

Joyfully playing his music while dividing up his soul to share 

Offering up his amazing life complete with it's heart to bleed 

His love of life and concern for others never yielding there 

  

His music taking second place only to his beautiful soul 

Those crazy, wild and daringly foolish younger escapades 

Only served to endear him to us while making his legend grow 

May his memory live longer than the stars that heaven made.....  
-Tyr , AKA  Robert L.


Premium Member Silver, Cash, Gold

Shel Silverstein has penned gold, dear friends,
The Missing Piece, The Giving Tree, Where the Sidewalk Ends...
Still, I was surprised to find that he wrote, too
Johnny Cash’s hit, “A Boy Named Sue.”
© P.S. Awtry  Create an image from this poem.

When Money Becomes Your God

A prayer is like seduction to your soul
Your church is the glamour the world bestowals
Your bible is the flashy neon lights and billboards
Your truth is the multiplicity of greedy
Your salvation is fruition of materialism
Your retribution is its finitude and lost satiety
Heaven becomes invisible through the eye of a needle

Premium Member Spendthrift

"When it comes to money, you can't win. If you focus on making it, you're materialistic. If you try to but don't make any, you're a loser. If you make a lot and keep it, you're a miser. If you make it and spend it, you're a spendthrift. If you don't care about making it, you're unambitious. If you make a lot and still have it when you die, you're a fool-for trying to take it with you. The only way to really win with money is to hold it loosely-and be generous with it to accomplish things of value." - John C. Maxwell

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the lessons
Who remind me that I spend,
More than I can earn,
More than I can learn…
Is too much, too much, too much.

Listen to my conscious,
When I reach for the cart,
Shopping – my obsession,
When will it finally stop?
When will I park that cart?

Listen to the lessons
Who remind me that I’m broke,
Spent more than I am making,
Spent more than I can earn,
Spent more – don’t have money to burn!

Listen to my conscious,
When the cash is burning holes…
Deep inside my pocket,
Where they yearn to finally know
How it feels to go into a jar,
Saved from the shopping sprees!
Saved from their enemy, ME!

Listen to those bills, tempting me…
To pay with cash, pay with my debit,
Pay with credit – pay with anything…
That allows me to spend, spend, spend,
Spendthrift I am – spendthrift is who I hope…
To quit being, throughout the coming year!

My new year’s resolution, then…
Is to write X spendthrift,
When I take up my pen, to sign by the x,
Where I’m signing my earnings away,
For the next purchase that I’ve made –

As a NEW X-spendthrift, I hope that I can say…
Together with my money, I will finally stay,
Able to look at the future with savings that I pray…
Will keep me from poverty as I go on my way,
Keep me from the spending that took me astray!


Nice Guy Mechanic, Paul Cash, Part One

He didn't blossom out with vive,
have all the answers to self-live,
your problem at his door, arrive!

He'd say to wait, yet still today
in moments strife ~ he'd say OK
Your car ~ his home, in the driveway!

His small garage, filled to the brim
with parts and projects from his friends
Paul's willingness" could not be bought!

Paul's name not estimate his fee
a "cash" you'd think ~ its sure not free,
he'd plunge right in ~ his harmony!

His trailer home, no yard to mow
white pebbles lacing, concrete's show
no extra work to grasp renown!

"Its plugged, burned out", or just is "blown!"
his knowledge kept your sorrow down
"But can you fix it" ~ you'd condone!

He had the parts, just here and there
his small garage, a farm somewhere
the cost'd be small, he kept it fair !


           -  to be continued -

Stashing Cash 2

Where I'm from we don't do debts, fronts, or take tabs
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
Put that money on the head, you don't need a mask
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
How is a broke fool gon' try and smash
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash

Money on my mind like bread on a sandwich

I run the city, they're the lights, I'm the switch

I stand for what's mine, never see me slip and fall

I'm runnin' the race, you're a baby with a slow crawl

My cash stay on point, like a sharpened pencil

Try 'n' copy my style, you gon' need mo' than a stencil

I don't be's in the trap, buy my workers put-in overtime

Feds can't catch me, never see me committin' crime

That's why from time to time I shoot 'em a raise

And tell 'em to stash cash for those rainy days

If money talk, then there's nothing to say

If B.S walk, none of ya' fools can stay

My money talkin' for me, betta' yet, it's in a conversation

Ya' look like money; make money, nice observation

They say the love of money's the root of all evil

So how much money will it take to really love people

Cash

Money
Necessary
Cannot buy happiness
But just try living without it
Paper

Premium Member Starlet

A man with cash shopped at a used car lot
Where met a cute, winsome young harlot
Smiling, he took it in stride 
When she offered him a ride
He loved the trip ‘til he missed his wallet.

Stashing Cash 1

Where I'm from we don't do debts, fronts, or take tabs
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
Put that money on the head, you don't need a mask
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
How is a broke fool gon' try and smash
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash

My Green could fill-up a Bay, need a few Packers

Haters look, fold and crumble like Ritz-crackers

Money comes and goes, but you know mine stays

Like a well-trained dog, sometimes it even lays

Money brings power, respect, gotta' have the jewels

Call me a handy-man, I stay with my tools

I know it sounds messed-up, but it's money-over-everything

My weight's been up, you just started like a flower in spring

My money keeps flippin', like some Burgers on a grill

Money on me heavy, like a work-out, makes me sweat fo'real

Active, got a million hustles, I'm motivated and dedicated

Call me and money happily married, we can't be separated

Not talking movies, but I bet you ain't seen this in a while

My money's long, go 'head, call it the green mile

Long as I'm stashing cash, I'll always come out on top

Like a junkie smokin' dope, me making money won't stop

Cash Work

In today's society 
One lives off money
© Joe Darkly  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Harvesting the Cash Crops

For years and years and a few more years, it now seems clearer to me,
That we’ve lived well, in the nutshell of our small town obscurity.

Life has been grand, on two acres of land of which I can’t lament.
Though living tall, we’ve kept things small, even the way our money’s spent.

Back of my mind, I’ve been inclined to believe that saving is good,
And that posit, has led to deposits for as much as I could.

In each account, I put in amounts as if planting a garden,
Albeit these seeds, were green as weeds, but at least I was start’en.

Yes time has passed, three decades go fast, and I’ve watched that garden grow.
Although there were years, where only some tears, sprouted out of each row.

Whether sunny, though not very funny, often the plants wilted,
But anyways, I’d plant each day, now some of my crops are gilded.

Though currently, this economy’s, dire in our nook and cranny.
So much so, that I don’t know, if it’s worth getting off my fanny.

Pardon that line, but it kinda’ rhymed, and sometimes that’s how I roll.
But anyhow, I’m back here now; yes hardship has taken a toll.

New planting’s a joke, like I just spoke, since I have no new seeds at hand,
Now I’ll switch, and dig up each ditch, due to this ill-timed command.

So here I go, ready or no, harvesting long planted cash crops.
For as long, that thrift is wrong, and until things perk up I can’t stop.

Far from retiring, nor desiring, to pick these crops premature,
But there’s no choice, and we can’t rejoice, yet have hope for the future.

Thus I’ll pray, and wait for the day when our countries fiscally sound,
But have doubts, and crops may run out, before Reagan comes back around.

Cash From Maury Povich

Tis an ode to the glory
of this unemployment story
Got no food to eat
Can't even wash my feet
A quick way to get cash- go on Maury!*


8th place in the "Economical Woe Limericks" contest by
Carolyn Devonshire

*The Maury Povich Show- similar to
Jerry Springer.

A. Green
© Amy Green  Create an image from this poem.

Christmas Cash, Christmas - Cash Is a Little Baby Boy

Cash you right now are an amazing little bundle of joy,
It’ll take you a few years to understand this Christmas thing,
While young Christmas to you will mean receiving a special toy,
Hopefully you will hear carols about me that others will gladly sing.

As you begin to grow, learn and see things for yourself,
I’m still here waiting, watching desiring you to learn of me,
You are sure to hear about Santa and his many little elves,
Hello again I have not left, always an angel taking care of thee.

By now you have realized humans are not perfect that is true,
Christmas’s have come and gone you still walk in the night,
Moms, Dads, Uncles, Aunts, Grandmas and Grandpas too,
Cash I’m calling, open your heart, so I can make things right.

Who am I, you ask at last and from where did I come ?
Let’s begin again in a place far away, peaceful and still,
A place known as Bethlehem and Heaven’s where I’m from,
I’m Jesus the baby who would eventually die on Calvary’s hill.

So you now are made whole, complete from sin truly free,
The day will come when children you have a Christmas story to tell,
Just as your Dad prayerfully spoke to you sharing you with me,
For Christmas was given to increase Heaven not the place called Hell.


by William Arthur Tell

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. (Luke 2:8-20)

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