Best Cash Cow Poems
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
Golly, this day could be my very
last!
So no, I am not going to organize
my house really fast.
I will sit with my cat, her calico
fur, a love drape upon me.
With warm cup of Joe and yes,
writing poetry that sings of life,
not strife!
Not one ear of mine for doomsday
sayers.
Who love predicting our coming end.
Go look out your window, do!
Do you see millions of dead?
Is an iceberg in your yard, over
your head?
That's the vision the media wants
you to retain.
A planet filled with floods, fires
and incurable pain.
Their latest is the pandemic scare,
hello?
Get your flu shot, the drug
companies see you are a cash cow.
"Come down to the pharmacy,get your
flu shot," they hawk now!
Ah, media, I love your theatrics!
As evil as the snake in Eden was.
How crazy are your prancing antics!
Such pitiful, feigned hypocrisy.
Negative, overpaid, lying donkeys!
Methinks Panagiota dislikes phony
news.
Very true, very true!
News should be on one night a year.
Imagine how free your mind would be.
Not overloaded by the mongrels of
flotsom and jetson chicanery.
September 20, 2019
Hot Springs is where I live, in Arkansas
The foothills of The Ozark Mountain Range
For centuries the springs were the big draw
As people came in hopes their health would change
"There's healing powers in the heated springs,"
At least that's what the natives used to claim
On Bathhouse Row they'll treat you like a king
Our hospitality brings us great fame
But gambling is the main attraction now
Casino and horse racing at Oaklawn
It has become the city's big cash cow
The money flows each day from dusk til dawn
Should you decide you'd like to come and see
I think the starting gate goes up at three
December 30 2016
Hot Springs, Arkansas, USA
As I stared out my project window into the streets were the predators never
seemed to sleep and the dope heads that kept the neighbors in the private homes on
pins and needles as they prowled the street, looking for the next cash cow to supply their drug needs. In the alley where we would play baseball during the daytime against the old trash bin, at night it served as the hiding place for the drug boys dope and guns…It’s sometimes hardto believe that decent people do live here in this place where I live, but they do.
I don’t know how? But really they do, I swear. The alleyway was littered with so much broken glass on the ground, sometimes I would pretend that it was diamonds and would dream of running out one morning and picking it all up and then I would be rich like the people who lived in the private homes up on the hill. At night from my window in the summertime I could smell their grills cooking some expensive meat, that seem to overload my sense and make my belly growl in a hopeless thought that I might somehow get to taste it.
In the distance sirens blare in the middle of the night as the ambulances race to the causalities of the night life. I can still recall those house parties that never seem to end, that’s until the men in blue decided to finally answer the calls and put an end to their night fun, but by that time they were all drunk and doped out or found a mate for the night…as they all spread out onto the side streets like cockroaches when you turn on the light and then shots rang out in the calm distance of the night. People scatter into the night.
My eyelids are now so heavy I can barely hear my own thoughts inside my head. When all of sudden my door flings open, standing there in the doorway I can make out a shadow, I take a deep breath and continue to play like I’m asleep. Wow, it was only my mother, just checking in on her only investment for her future dream of a doctor or lawyer that would not have to deal with this mess, she shuts my door after seeing that I was okay…as she takes a deep sigh of relief, knowing she could take solace that her child was fast asleep.
Nobody believes me!
We are killing ourselves and each
other everyday.
And no, we don't need a gun.
But, come on, they tell me,
Stop being a party pooper!
No, I won't get on the train of yours.
Anymore than "Old Sparky."
The train called "Technology Express"
Heading down all nations, ruining
brains, and bodies with no discrimination.
The engineer called WiFi infecting all.
It's not my responsibility to care for you!
that's up to your fascination.
But know please our government acts
without any moral discretion.
Technology effects blood, body and brains.
And~as long as the gov turns a profit,
to hell with us?
We have new toys.! Never a thought that
they harm us.
Googling it, won't say a thing, they
want to hear their cash cow ring
So to our ears the cell phone goes,
Planting tumors row by row.
Some in our breast, and sperm counts are falling.
And what do we do?
Of course, keep calling.
And sadly we ignore family and friends.
A face, a kiss, a warm embrace?
A text is just a text.
It's not a hug, but a curse.
With our eyes going to hell reading
backlit screens.
Even sex, online,with God knows who?
Welcome to the Technological Zoo.
Panagiota Romios
2/24/2019
today it has been proven that our justice system does'nt represent justice. it just
fixes things the way they want things to be fixed. today a murderer was judged not
guilty and will soon walk free from the crime that they commited. they may have
escaped man but they still have to face God. they should have paid man. maybe it
was an accident with choloraform. but everything else she did added it up to
murder. today a jury assasinated justice just like james earl ray killed martin luther
king and just like lee harvey oswald killed john f. kennedy just like john wilkes booth
killed abraham lincoln and all i can say is et tu brute to our judicial system. i must
admit the defence did their jobs well but now they know they did it too well because
the eyes of true Justice will be apon them for their crimes. and so this is how the media planned on how to keep milking this cash cow indefinatly.
IN ALL HONESTY I AM DISHONEST
Many people own what they refer to as a “cash cow”
A farm animal who produces milk to drink and make cheese
Well I am like an aged farmer praying for his last field to plow
And all I have is a cow who consumes cash if you please
Many people eat food that rots them from the inside out
I, however, use substances that rot me from the outside in
With certainty I am doomed by daily diatribes of doubt
The result of my walking side by side with sordidness and sin
Many people reap rewards from being reverent, religious and good
I, on the other hand, am plundered by impiousness and a lack of pity
It’s always been my plan to take advantage of those whom I could
And using fools who are foolish enough to find me oh so very witty
In actuality I’d decline a “a cash cow” for a small semblance of peace
The kind of peace I find only in devastating substances which sustain me
My sordidness is self-evidenced by sins that seldom if ever cease
And even foolish fools finally find the intelligence to disdain me
© 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~
You're rolling in the green right now,
lying naked on a bed of lettuce
Got those nubile maids milking the cash cow,
as you float on tequila dreams,
thinking it's gonna last forever
Money laundering machine
keeps churning out
counterfeit business window dressing
While you sit on your bullet-riddled throne
with a drug kingpin flair
You killed the last man who sat there,
in that blood-red leather chair
Violence consolidated the business,
now everything is in your hands
Got yourself surrounded by a bunch of yes servants
No one to dare tell you
whatcha' doing is wrong
Who questions a man who sits on a bloody throne
Shop's open is the street song
24/7 traffic all day long
The money flowing in so fast
has to stay off the books
So you're now hiring
the best accountant cooks
You're now hiring
the best laundromat staffing
Those who know how to launder that money clean,
turn it into legit stock holdings
Got yourself surrounded by a bunch of silent, head nodding people
No one to dare tell you
whatcha' doing is wrong
No one to tell you
all that money laundering
ain't never gonna wash your sins clean
You never hired no one to tell you the truth ---
that your killing days are numbered,
and your soul ain't bulletproof
this own lee bro' thar of yars
dashed analogously graced
on par how a marathon runner raced
to Macbook Pro laptop computer post haste
soon as he goat back
to his domicile nestled and encased
in the bucolic, democratic,
and fantastic spit non defaced
woodland partially hydrogenated oils baste
surrounding Highland Manor Apartment our ace
in the hole, whence he i.e. mice elf
(Matty Mouse) with threads of gratitude laced
within a feeble attempt
to burble, cobble, fiddle, easy as gravy,
an insrutable letter placed
in the output queue
soon as all
the typo O graphical errors erased
and, though struggle to convey love
for such an endearing older sister,
which digitally squawking,
aye did not cut and paste
boot doth admit to allowing,
a saucy bit of small potatoes sayest
in ma trademark (truemark)
stuffing of fluffernutter (that taste)
G---R---R---E---E---A---A---T
(courtesy of flaky Tony the corny tiger),
which gimmerish aims to waste
juiced spare moments,
and tubby direct, earnest and frank
lemme communicate without resorting
to caginess,
but free roaming thoughts to thank
ye and Rich for welcoming a small group
of family and friends
to your Woodbury, New Jersey abode,
page number two:
somewhat near Redbank
to relish the salad days of times gone by,
when as kids,
we tricked each other with a harmless prank
such as hiding a fuzzy wuzzy Willie,
or scaring the other
with the molded Creepy People that doth rank
as laughably innocent, these topsy turvy times,
when faith no more
eroded cameraderie
among fellow Americans to tank
especially as the world wide web
iz going to fill in the BLANK
thus moments to share
a tasty repast did help me to crank
out this artichoked gibberish,
which when placed
atop pyramid of cranberries sank.
as didst this heart of darkness
within soul asylum
of papa and momma genes
to two beautiful young women
re: daughters, whose absence
felt as gloomy fiends
similar to the Ogre encountered,
when goose that laid golden egg stolen
by Jack of beanstalk
of story book fame as a cash cow means.
Each night I groove
Entertain with each move
Dancing on this pole
My assets I extol
Sultry and steamy
Men’s eyes so dreamy
Forgetting their wives
They give me fives
Clenched in my thong
Money doesn’t last long
I return home each night
Leaving men I excite
To find my daughter sleeping
As I begin weeping
I should have learned a trade
That with age wouldn’t fade
With dollars from gazers
I try to raise her
But how long can this last?
Only till my prime has passed
Though I have income now
My looks? A cash cow
As I approach thirty
I feel useless and dirty
No future in this biz
Make the most of what is
I’ll soon be forced out
We’ll learn to live without
Stripping for bucks
Donations they tuck
Until I start to sag
My butt I can wag
But tomorrow, who knows
The bloom will leave this rose
We’ll be out on the streets
When sensuality depletes
*Written for Natalie’s “Burlesque Twist” contest
If, as hippy folklore claims, it never rains in California,
Then the watermark is never washed out of the phoney cheque,
And when you’re dead and gone there’ll be no one here to mourn ya
For it was only God above urinating down your neck.
Carbon monoxide inhalation, it’s said, is pretty good for you,
So quit that forty a day habit, baby, move it with the flow;
Auto-suicide will wend its merry way and turn you blue,
So wrap your ruby red ones ‘round a tail pipe instead and blow.
Handprints down at Graumans, stoned celebrity status crested
Of the celluloid long-dead and the many who are soon to be;
My shopping list wants tummy-tucked, liposuction-sculpted, silicon breasted
Platinum blonde-haired bimbos who are certified free of H.I.V.
The boardwalk stretches like a sunshine catwalk by the sand and sea,
That roller babe looks good enough to eat, this must be heaven,
A junk food, high-cal sex blitz, glitzy steam hammer driven reality,
Her brain and heart aged sixty, yet her body twenty-seven.
Hang loose, chill out in air-conditioned stretch limo deep freezers,
It sure ain’t safe to mosey around alone, so don’t take chances;
And the infrared sun might fry your cheek to cancer and bejeezus,
Tough to keep your tongue in it, then, under the circumstances.
At night the stars reveal themselves, yet don’t look to the skies,
Dead super novas are never seen through pollution and stagnation,
Diaz, Hanks, Di-Caprio hold heaven’s wonder in cash cow eyes,
Down here that just about outshines every thing in God’s creation.
Multinational, mega-corporate, Hollywood moguls kick sorry ass,
Bedroom or boardroom these bondage freaks wield Olympian power,
Snorting lines of purest coke, feeding teenage pussy a champagne glass,
A minute on the screen, her life destroyed within an hour.
Gordon Gecko got it wrong, for greed is far from good you see,
Ray Chandler’s quip about this place a compliment and a half -
You know, the one where he gave this town a paper-cup personality -
Still you’ve gotta laugh, don’t you? Well, don’t you gotta laugh…?
Curtin closed, sky is black,
The King you know, won’t be back.
Price of fame, made him go insane,
To live a life he distained.
Born to be the “Golden cash cow”,
Lost childhood, soul sold somehow.
Pushed to be the Perfect Entertainer,
Money, money, money, no brain’er
So it came to be, he had his wealth,
Lonely soul still sits upon his shelf.
He bought the World, still wasn‘t happy,
Just wanted real love from his Pappy.
Scares so deep, he could not sleep,
Now his dreams forever he keeps.
Twisted visions always will remain,
Of the Perfect Entertainer gone insane.
Owned he was by the people,
Perfect Entertainer sits upon pops steeple.
Heart was of a humble lad,
Never understood the teachings from his Dad.
Breaking within from all the pressure,
Turned to drugs to be his chosen mesher.
World built his image in it’s light,
Molded perfection, image too tight.
In a world that isn’t right,
He broke the mold of black and white.
Perfect Entertainer gone insane,
Will in time they even remember his name.
My mind is now not in dissaray
It's all there now
my kids don't see me as their cash cow
I made them get all jobs to get the things they need
and to buy the food that their mouths they constantly feed
I now have a little piece of mind and they are learning the value of a dollar
And the value of not hearing mom holler
This is all fiction
I think I've been left with the best of the rest,
The vague and the odd and the strange,
I can't make the effort to now look my best,
As I'm scared I'll attract the deranged.
There's the ones who just cry, the slushy, the weak,
and the ones who just use and discard,
Some can be kinky, or flaky, a freak,
and there's those who get off in the yard,
the usual ones just get right on my nerve,
and then there's the marry me now.
It seems I can always attract the reserve.
Or the ones who just want a cash-cow.
If you ask why I'm single the answer is clear,
I'm a magnet for all the crazy,
I'll get the ones on the drugs or the beer,
Or there sure to be fat and lazy.
You're their cup of tea, their bread and butter
A real cash cow, drink straight from your udder
If you want laws passed,be a dentist
They'd rather be your ventriloquist
Bickering over minimum wages
Taking their cues from a criminal's pages
You can't pass go and you can not trespass
Unless you are a member of Congress