Home » Poems » Best » Filthy Rich

Best Filthy Rich Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Filthy Rich poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of filthy rich poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Filthy Rich poems, articles about Filthy Rich poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Filthy Rich poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

New Filthy Rich Poems

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

A Filthy Rich Baboon by Ellison, Jack
Filthy rich by JOHNSON, DON
Filthy Rich by Thompson, Jessica

View all new Filthy Rich Poems

The Best Filthy Rich Poems

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

I AM THE NEW UK PRIME MINISTER

I AM THE NEW UK PRIME MINISTER


My name is David Cameron – 
I am the new PM – 
But I was very lucky – I did so	
cleverly fool them.
I am to meet the Queen – 
who isn’t very happy,
She didn’t want the Tories
in – the Queen, I did betray!

We will now target the
disabled – and stop all
their benefits;
‘We will bully the disabled
people – our manifesto -  
it causes lots of fits.’
We now will wreck the UK – 
and help the filthy rich,
If we get our sums wrong – 
we’ll blame it on a glitch!

We hate the working class – 
as Labour helped them out – 
But we all love the millionaires –
they have a lot of clout!
We must look after our own
pockets – that is the Tory
policy – 
To heck with the disabled – 
we hate them – honestly!       

We have got five more 
years – to screw the UK
more,
But our policy really is;
‘we hate the scrounging
poor!’
The banks will be kept
safe – that I promise you – 
They will donate to the 
scum bag Tories – we are
the privileged few!!

I feel just like the Newzoids – 
a conning little puppet – 
They have really portrayed
me as; ‘a leeching little
muppet!’ 
I shall pull some strings – 
and slag of the UKIP team,
I am the new PM – or, is
it a nasty dream?

I will now march to 10 
Downing Street – and smile
at the gaping media;  
‘These parasites are an entity -   
they can cause a lot more
hysteria!’  
But meeting her majesty – 
is really a boring chore;
‘I really can’t be bothered – 
she’s such a bloody bore!’ 

I now have five more years – 
to inflict yet more pain – 
Even if you don’t agree – 
your objections are in vain.
We didn’t want the SNP – 
and that odious Nicola
Sturgeon – 
Nor those Lib Dem MP’ 
losers – they aren’t even
worth a mention.

I’ve got the golden ticket – 
but I still feel like a plonker;
‘Why do I get the impression - 
that I feel like a little Wonker!!!!’
I am now moving in – to my
cosy little house – 
But the prospects of being
Prime Minister – I feel just
like a louse!

Now I am in power – I’ll
bleed the country dry,
All those folk who hate
me – remove me – you
can try!
I am a luck fella – but my 
wife is so stressed out – 
“David Cameron as PM –
of that - there’s lots of
doubt!”  

BY
DARRYL ASHTON

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Quiet mounds of yellowed tailings and dead weeds whisper low.
And proud rusting relics telling tales of striking gold.
The rush from East, from North and South, by wagon, train or foot.
Days not all that long ago, in tall ships made of wood.

“A gold rush struck in ’49, all quite by accident.
A burning fever that cut men to bone, in a sea of dingy tents.
Day and night, they toiled and told, many headed home without a cent.
But some packed out bags of glistening gold, and made a stop at Buzzard’s Breath.

The town’s mud logged street, deep with horse manure, bubbled like a shallow grave.
With a Sheriff’s office, a livery stable, and a church for souls to save.
And a fancy house, on a grassy knoll – sign read, “Madam Lil la Tart”.
With soft, curvaceous ladies who mined for hearts – and gold of a different sort.

Didn’t take long before easy gold, was extremely hard to find.
And burly miners, tough as steel, moved in to hard rock mine.
With bloodied knuckles, dented hats, they blasted at a furious pace.
To find the gold, called the mother lode, yellow blood coursing through their veins!

The mine they worked was called “Long Shot”, the men thought that name a curse.
But the miners hankered for the handle, “Buzzard’s Breath”, and the mine’s name was reversed.
As luck would say, they held a royal flush, when they hit that horse-wide vein.
Of the purest gold, yet to be found, this side of the Pearly Gates.

Eyes wide as saucers, they were all in awe, everyone was filthy rich.
The miners should have all retired and should have cashed in all their chips.
But a man’s hard to figure, when his blood is yellow, and he’s stricken with a gold fever.
“Eureka! boys, git the dynamite and a whole lot more mining timbers!”

They mined that vein to the bowels of the earth, and the heat increased by day.
Buzzard’s Breath became the hottest place, to Hell – the shortest way.
And then one day, the men never came back. – Hell must have jumped that claim.
Of the purest gold, yet to be found – that’s where the Devil mines today!”

Quiet mounds of yellowed tailings and dead weeds whisper low.
And proud rusting relics telling tales of striking gold.
The rush from East, from North and South, died a slow and quiet death.
Along with days of tall wooden ships, and the ghosts of Buzzard’s Breath.

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

How To Get Rich From Gambling

How To Get Rich From Gambling

By Elton Camp

Probabilities is what gambling is all about
With enough trials, probability will work out
Though gambling will put most in the ditch,
There also is a way from it to get filthy rich

Chances stay the same for each random event
Ignore that and wonder where your money went
This, the gambler’s mind may almost derange 
It’s not true that “My luck is bound to change.”

If you flip a coin & get heads 100 times in a row
The probability for tails is still one-half, though
It is a very foolish and dangerous logical slip
To think as if the coin has some memory chip

A certain slot machine hasn’t paid off for a year
Should you rush to use it if that fact you hear?
No matter what some people will insist to say
The odds are no better than on the first day

So for getting rich these facts don’t bode too well
But how wealth can be achieved I will now tell
If you want to keep your financial matters straight,
Then it’s the gambling house you must operate

It’s true that gamblers may make an occasional win,
But nearly all will just lose it back to the house again
So if, of the casino, you are the wealthy owner
Only then will your money not soon be a goner

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Bait and Switch


The devil done put a new face
on an old sales technique
It's brash, it's bold
It's tricky sweet
But it tastes sour, this maggot treat
He swapped the fresh for the spoiled meat
Had to bait the trap good,
hide the kill switch under the hood
Alternative facts is the new money wood
This new source of energy lies
beneath methane colored skies
Smells kinda putrefied,
smells like somebody died
Fracked up those new found lies
Alternative facts is the new dung
polluting the skies
But you still gotta sell it to the people
as sweet-smelling pecan pies
You gotta know how to 
bait the trap good,
hide the kill switch under the hood
Alternative facts is the new money wood
Turning truth into lies
requires filthy lucre ... this has always been understood
Bait and switch,
don't give 'em what they agreed to get
Spoiler alert: this truth-teller is gonna snitch
Those alternative facts being piped into your homes
is gonna make somebody filthy rich
Bait and switch,
don't give 'em what they agreed to get
Give 'em the old landfill reservation trick;
so when you enter your latrine, you better watch where you sit
Check the fine print on the sales agreement,
you'll find you bought yourself a pile of excrement


Historical footnote: The Australian government removed Aborigines, the first natives, from their ancestral lands that was rich w/natural resources such as gold, silver and oil. They placed them in Central Australia on barren ground reservations atop toxic landfills. The American government did similar treatment to Native Americans.

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

The Boys Don't Get Prettier At Closing Time

You're not going to see my 
picture 
on the cover of a magazine
And as far as worldwide travel 
goes 
here's the only place I've been. 

Now I'm not looking for an oil 
man, 
investment banker or movie 
star
But I'll be damned if I'm willing 
to play 
the part at a 2:00 am closing 
bar. 

Girls talk just like boys talk 
and we know all your corny 
lines
About going ugly early and 
getting prettier at closing time

We watch you step up to the 
plate 
And then swing at every pitch
Tell us what you think we want 
to hear
Pretend that you're filthy rich. 

A word to the wise to all those 
guys
Who still play this silly game
Being male does not exclude 
you
From the morning walk of 
shame.

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

To the Go

To the Go

To persuade or control, the primary role, why sell your soul to reach a goal, you digging a bigger hole, that’s not how it goes

We must preserve the souls, reverse the roles, balance the poles, and study what grows cause energy goes where attention flows

To destroy or rebuild? What’s the reasons you kill? You would say that you REAL But ni**a you frail, and I could bet you a bill or I could bet you a meal	
Check the deal

Robbery, persons, places, and things
We’re all of Royalty, so why you robbing the kings?

I didn’t hire you fire you mis-educate you or lie to you
I think we both know who did that, see you just scared to react
(Cause) when the slave catcher comes to put you in chains and lock you away 
you don’t bust ya gun
YOU JUST RUN

When he comes to split the family, like auction ya children off
You just let him, and claim it’s the law such a coward, so cowardly so
They leave ya hood filthy rich, suit and tie and you just let them go
You Know What Your Problem Is and Let It Be Clear, It’s FEAR

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

The choices we make

Guess what? Another true story, 
About a beautiful dame called Corrie.
Her allurement enraptured all men folk,
I did say this was a true story and not a joke?

Her tight dress and peachy ***, men would cry and plea,
Even blind Jim stopped, pulled down his glasses, willing himself to see.
When she walked the clock would stop to hear the tick tock of her heels,
Believe me this woman was dripping with sex appeal.

Every morning Corrie went into town to get her sick father’s pills,
She knew when she got them; one of the men would offer to pay the bills.
Now there was an evil merchant filthy rich had lent her father money,
It was time for him to pay up or he would take this honey (the daughter).

But to be a sport he conjured up a devious deal,
When he proposed the deal, it made her father feel more ill.
The merchant said “I have a bag and will put two stones in it.”
One white, the other black and here is the deal if you may permit?

“If your beautiful daughter picks the white stone,”
“You debt will be cancelled and you can take her home.”
“If it’s the black, I will cancel what you owe me,”
“But your daughter will be my bride you see.”

The ill father protested at first then gave in,
As they stood in town her father begged her to win.
Now while every man was looking at the divine girl,
She, the only one saw the merchant place two black stones, and so the bag he did fill.

She shook with horror as she picked a stone, thinking as she frowned
Then suddenly dropped the stone on the ground
The merchant raged “Now how are we to know which stone you took out?”
“Look in the bag and the one left will tell you what I chose” she did shout.

Everyone focused on the bag to see if she’d wed him or not,
The black one his hand reaches in and got.
Her father’s eyes lit up and he screamed with delight
His debt cancelled and she wouldn’t marry this merchant two foot in height.

She remains the tester of men’s hearts today,
They are mesmerised by her *** and they way she make it sway. 

*Lateral thinking E. Bono*

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Beer Money, Wine Taste

If you could read my mind you'd know that I'd never talk
And if I could stretch a mile you'd know that I'd never walk
But I've got to get up to go to work to my nine to five
To keep the pace in this rat race I have to survive
But this minimum wage pay will never help me out Lord
So I need more cause I want more than I can afford

(Channel)
Cause all my friends are driving Benz's and wearing expensive clothes
With bigger houses and finer foods so this is my status in quo

I've got beer money, I've got wine taste
Can you see it in my eyes, its written on my face
Give me this, give me that and I don't want to wait
But I've got beer money, I've got wine taste
And uh~ beer money, and uh~ wine taste
Always make me wanna haste but that leads to waste
So I'm praying for some patience and little more grace
With my~ beer money and my~ wine taste         (Chorus)

But my money and my patience's short, the line is long 
And when things start looking right in life what's left is wrong
I need extra strength this and I need fast relief that
Someone call western union hurry cause I need some cash
To pay my debts and all my bills, I'm planning to buy a lot
Because I'm always wanting something that I just don't got

(Channel)
Cause all my friends are driving Benz's and wearing expensive clothes
With bigger houses and finer foods so this is my status in quo

I've got beer money, I've got wine taste
Can you see it in my eyes, its written on my face
Give me this, give me that and I don't want to wait
But I've got beer money, I've got wine taste
And uh~ beer money, and uh~ wine taste
Always make me wanna haste but that leads to waste
So I'm praying for some patience and little more grace
With my~ beer money and my~ wine taste         (Chorus)


(Bridge)
I need designer hats and jeans,
A limousine on the scene
To keep up with the Jones;
I need some precious stones.
I want to be in the spotlight
In restaurants day and night
With the means to these ends nonstop;
I wanna be filthy rich so I can shop.

(Chorus)

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Grinning Like a Possum

Grinning Like a Possum

By Elton Camp

The president seems to be well pleased
At the last second, victory he seized

The filthy rich will fork over more
The middle class about as before

His enemies blocked him at every turn
So this tax struggle was hard to earn

The wealthy may well fume and cuss
But there’s fewer of them than of us

Four hundred thousand is quite enough
Even paying more, it shouldn’t be tough

Perhaps they might even economize
Swap the Rolls Royce for a smaller size

So their depleted funds are better spent
With only a single mansion be content

They can still have plenty of fun
Lying about, enjoying Grey Poupon 

And, according to what I see & hear,
The prez is grinning from ear-to-ear

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

REST HAVEN

REST HAVEN

Halloween Nght    on a dare
With strange music in the air
I seek out a single tomb
Oh    ghastly is the full moon

Old Cyrus Jones lay buried
Filthy rich    never married
Had no one close    no doting kin
Couldn’t stand the likes of him

Twas said he killed his own dad
Only friend he ever had
Gold was the evil reason
Old age    the killing season

Hark!   Atop that distant pile
A fiddler stands to play a while
Bowing strong    in minor key
Witch-Goblin jamboree

Old Cyrus played    so they say
Seldom stopped neither night nor day
Drove all his neighbors half-mad
When he died they    most    were glad

But now    it seems    he’s risen
Shot up from that dark prison
The shroud he wears     fraught with gore
Inner    only bones in store

Summoning a ghostly hoard
Those cast out by our dear Lord
They dance    they prance    rattle bones
Here am I    so far from home

My fervent prayers do no good
Music    foul    within my blood
Dance I must    lost I am 
Joined in revel with the damned

See the sight on All Souls Night
Cold moon streaming full and bright
Wolves have come to howl OWooooooooo!
Hitler    Stalin    Satan too!

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

All monsters are human

Everyone warns you of the darkness.
But no one tells you whats in there.
Have you seen the monster in the closet or under the bed?
That's me.
I am the darkness.
I am the monster hiding waiting for you.
Truth is I'm human,
I'm just like you.
I just think different.
Look around the darkness is all around us.
Whether  it's the filthy rich person,
the family that's barely making it,
We're all monsters.
Sucked into the darkness

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Filthy Rich

Filthy Rich
____________________________

Bacon wrapped, filet minion
Beurre Blanc , or Sabayon
caviar so delicate
on your tongue, you wont forget.

Crystal and golden spoons
don't forget the tea at noon
for your name, an abbreviation
don't forget the reservation.

A brand new car in the drive
my own pool, in which I dive
all new clothes, every stitch
how satisfying, to be rich.

(I however am not rich lol)  5/21/14-Jessica Thompson

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Atonement of a Joker

 
A cursory flicker in the inky night,
lights up my past transgressions,
shows up my base shallowness,
illuminates my hard heart
towards my fellow men.

That was what I was taught,
that to succeed you must be tough.
So now mammon has repaid me,
with overflowing coffers
and large estates.
Yet riches bring hate too.

My father died violently,
However, before he left this evil world,
he taught me how to cheat,
Especially at gambling.

My mother had her personal advice.
Cheating will lead to disaster,
But if I must cheat, remember,
Never gamble in the same district.
If necessary, change places, even towns.


Thus, I began my infamous career,
money began to come in, slowly at first.
But then with each win, it grew
and my bank account grew fat.
Until I bought a casino.
And then I was rich.  Filthy rich.

What need have I for more now?
I stand on the hillock
as night deepens and realize
my heart is dark as well.
I live alone, though many came
and many went, all blood suckers.
I, a fool, allow them freedom.
For they work hard just to see
my riches amounting to even more.

Then vicious and ruthless gangs wanted my money.
It was carefully hid, and mostly invested in land.
But I had to give up my casino
and sold it to them at a cheap price.
Strange I was relieved.
My conscience pricked me a bit more.

Thus, I realize how damned my soul is.
Illusion reflects my obscure destiny.
Oh if I only have the will to give it all away.
But a serpent called greed has taken hold of me,
and I cannot save my soul.

The wane moon comes up stealthily
from the far away horizon
and illuminates the vast vista below.
Do I imagine shadows hiding in dark bushes?
Do I hear soft cries beckoning me to repent?

I look around at all I possessed.
A large tract of land that could be built.
What can I do with it?  Have I not enough trouble?
Stars dimly light the sky and seem to smile back.
A thought: why not build it for the poor?
I laugh.  ‘Twill be a bold step.
I make up my mind.
Wonder what the blood suckers will say?


Placed 2


22 November 2017
I Started A Joke - Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by: Maria Williams

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Filthy rich

Filthy rich

Filthy rich now control the poor,
Howards contracts will hurt 4 sure,
Government cleaners by the contract blest,
$200 less in their poor pay packets,
Per week im telling you,
Pick on the poor these scum will too,
A greed of hogs attack,
Morality died in days of old,
Todays scumbags would sell your soul,
No decency, in fact, the greed 4 bloody gold?

Don Johnson

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Endowments

How, oh how, can some endow
A building wing? Well, holy cow!
So many millions must impress
All comers, thanks to their largess.

Such lavish generosity
Is well beyond the scope of me,
For sums like that I won’t pretend
Are numbers I can comprehend.

Yet so much more than any bank
These benefactors we should thank,
For their donations help us out
And that’s what giving’s all about.

Of course, they get some tax deducted
When their building wing’s constructed.
Plus, they get their just acclaim
When on the walls, we view their name.

Endowments, though, will hardly drain
The cash their bank accounts contain.
It must be nice to scratch that itch
And give, but still be filthy rich!

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Barbie On the Dating Site

Barbie On the Dating Site

By Elton Camp

“Hello, guys, here’s my picture for you to see.
You will note, I’m slim and as cute as can be.”

“If it’s that I have no money you are supposin’
I’m actually filthy rich from as a model posin’

“I have the most beautiful long, blonde hair
And my complexion is pleasing and very fair.”

“I, at one time, was in a long-term relationship,
But to another doll my handsome Ken did slip.”

The picture Barbie posts is how she used to appear
Since it was made, there has passed many a year

But maybe the man she meets won’t be troubled
To find that cute Barbie’s size has nearly doubled

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

America after 1962

On June 25, 1962 prayer was taken out of school
It was like losing a ring's precious jewel 
If you look into America's history 
You will find that it is no mystery
From that date on we haven’t been as strong
I believe we have done something terribly wrong
What they teach in history books simply overlooks
Important information that has raised up a blind generation
Youth, family, education, and national life is far from the same
We have lost morals and values that our forefathers firmly proclaimed
A Blessed Nation under God we have always been
But in the last 50 years it has become destroyed by an abundance of sin
Divorce rate is at an all-time high
While so many children grow up fatherless and wonder why
Gang violence increases each day
Teenage pregnancy has become a common way
Young people search for love in all the wrong places
Leaders in government wear faulty faces
Role models have become extinct
Technology while good has caused many jobs to sink
A nation rife with perjury
Broken marriage covenants In need of surgery
Unforgiveness extortion bribery slander and profanity
We need God to restore us too sanity
Hypocrisy, and lawsuits initiated solely for revenge and personal gain 
Doing things are own way has caused us much pain
The rich are getting richer and the poor sit back and cry
People have lost their integrity yet shake their fists at the sky
If you want to learn open a bible and begin to read
If we listened to its wisdom we wouldn’t have so much need
We have become too liberal as a whole
Besides having so much debt, we are all losing our souls
If anyone talks about God in school they risk losing their profession
Yet more and more young people suffer from anxiety and depression
Many are on medication making doctors filthy rich
So many people are dying in their own emotional ditch
Statistically we are on a downward spiral
Many people turn their heads or just live in denial
History is important to learn
For it shows us how quickly society can turn 
We all have to answer to God someday
And if I were you I would start to learn his way
For if we are going to continue to be America the best
We have to take a moment to address
All the ways we have allowed this country to slip
Take personal responsibility and restore our spiritual grips
Weneed to take back the people's power
We are living in a crucial hour
If we don’t open our eyes ears and mouths we will fall instead of just bend
who knows this time if this damage we can mend.

 by: Sabina nicole

Details | Filthy Rich Poem |

Bit-Coin Billionaire



You made a lot of money
selling lewd photos of nude
Then you parlayed your profits
into cyber surfing —  
triple X cinema ***** crude
Nasty video sex business you were so into
Your vested interest was
a skin flick portfolio bankroll ...
Dirty money bottom line
Letting curious customers
put their cyber bit coins into the virtual pay slot
So they can take a ride on the carnal carousel
Then make them get off ...
Have them taste naked flesh boiling hot 
in an abominable lascivious pot
You are so proud of yourself,
Mr. Sleazy bit coin billionaire
You make it so easy — 
sex suckers love to lick poisoned lollipop sticks
Getting minds addicted to wicked desires,
those tempting tokens are gonna take ‘em there
You’re so filthy rich cavalier ...
crushing souls, you really don’t care
What those turned-out cyber tramps,
hopefully, will come to one day understand,
those grimy bit coins 
is greasing somebody’s dirty hand
And that palm is on a beach somewhere
getting a penthouse triple X suntan

Bit coin billionaire,
you’re a dirty old man
with a Howard Weinstein leer

Bit coin billionaire,
you got sticky floor hands
and semen oil slick hair

Spreading your cyber surfing 
triple X flotsam everywhere
You’re just a devilish voyeur,
a nickel-and-dime fleshpot billionaire
Your trashy ways smells like
a STD flea-bitten garbage can
And your infectious craves are a
CDC health hazard quarantine

Bit coin billionaire,
you’re a dirty money man
with semen snake oily hands

Bit coin billionaire,
with filthy green scaly skin
In need of some brimstone lotion

Bit coin billionaire,
you’re a dirty money man
with sticky floor hands

Bit coin billionaire,
with filthy lucre ashy skin
In need of a brimstone suntan


This poem was inspired by the 
talented Richard Lamoureux’s poem,
“Church Perfect Surface.”
— Romantic Warrior

Best Filthy Rich Poems | Poetry

New Filthy Rich Poems

The Best Filthy Rich Poems

Burning Man That Never Ends

A Filthy Rich Baboon

A Rich Man's Advice

I AM THE NEW UK PRIME MINISTER

Overarching Genocide

Arthurs Moon

The Archer From Locksley

Cloud 7

Ghosts of Buzzard's Breath

How To Get Rich From Gambling

Bait and Switch

The Boys Don't Get Prettier At Closing Time

To the Go

The choices we make

Beer Money, Wine Taste

Grinning Like a Possum

REST HAVEN

All monsters are human

Filthy Rich

Atonement of a Joker

Filthy rich

Endowments

Barbie On the Dating Site

America after 1962

Bit-Coin Billionaire