Best Funds Poems
A
Debt will
Shame
Your history
of your dreams.
I hear their idle chatter and wish that sound was optional.
A box checked in a menu, a simple click and forget.
The rapid dilation of my pupils brings me back.
Back to hypnotic aisles of temptation and necessity. A selection of the finest they say.
Right there see, on the cardboard, next to charts and columns of calories and strange
numbers I’d sooner forget.
But buy one get one free still gets me every time.
I stare intently at the dancing numbers until the man with the tie moves away.
Glossy pages shine brighter than the fruit racks they mirror,
Competing for importance in my wallet and my life
The magpie wins and the bananas will wait.
Half the magazines hawk five a day in rounded sans serif, bold against the background of a
chef’s haircut.
Maxims of bizarre cosmopolitan playboys and hustlers marked up at 3.99. Landscapes of
polished flesh glow beneath the loving airbrush of the paycheck. Competing for nuts at the
zoo.
A vanity fair for the hollow, shining in the fading light of a red top sunset.
Paraphrased blogs and condensed morsels of crude celebrity nudes for the I-Generation and
the remnants of New Labour and Thatcher’s Britain.
Anglers, caravans and 50 cent, half the demographic, half the price. Count me out.
I finger a few and find no real desire. The Internet offers this bilge up for free.
They’d all be nude and crapping on each other.
The great silicon toilet of humanity
Past freezers of long dead prisoners, pulped to perfection. Pigs in tubes and flat cow
concoctions.
Pancakes of vomit and fish dishes I won’t ever try. No time for it.
Frankenstein's monster behind glass slides.
Packets of sugar in various disguises. Cereal and chocolate, soft drinks and sauce dips.
Lattes and ladles, loofahs and loaves. The prattle returns through the shelving
I turn around the curries and there is the tie. Talking sport and hard drinking, women and
the weather. Looks me in the eye.
I turn before any interaction and feign interest in something, a scouring pad. Intricately
woven metal coils waste major concentration and he’s gone. Box checked, minimize and move on.
Everything shines in this weird three-quarter light, hypnotic. Confusing. Conscious of the
bottles ahead that I can’t ever touch. Seedy and appealing, puerile and appalling.
Something for everyone.
And nothing for me.
Money slipping
Fast as sand
Where did it go?
Do not know!
Spend, spend, spend some more!
And to lend? Below poverty poor!
There lies my wallet on my bureau,
Pictures, it has ten….. money zero.
Each night I go out to check my 401K,
..They’re in the barn …eating hay.
Every day they go out to pasture to play whinny and frolic,
Dam, I hope that 401K doesn’t colic !
This is a great idea, tee hee,
Good suggestions are so me,
Nuisance caller was asking me,
Money for her fundraising committee,
"Right," said little old chirpy me,
"You can send cheques to me,
We need funds here desperately!"
I must say, sensitively,
Great ideas are so me,
Nuisance caller hung up on me!
There was a man of some understanding
Who for projects wished to raise some funding
He approached men of great wealth
They told him:" Don't waste your breath."
For money we give, we ask refunding!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
10 June 2021
Insufficient Funds
By: Miracle Man
11/1/2024
At birth God opens, a new life, bank account,
and we don’t know what is placed in reserve.
Each day then becomes a check that we write,
and life becomes the place that we will serve.
We don't know what existing balance is,
for only God has access to each book.
At times in life when we’re facing dire straits,
and we pray that God is taking a look.
As we age we sense that our funds grow low,
is cash on deposit for checks we write?
Then without warning a statement will come,
account closed do to your funds being slight.
Just a broken poet,
at an ATM
His stomach cries out,
words hunger within
The nights are the longest,
cold darkens and chills
Fresh words on account,
new credit instills
Pushing buttons while bent,
… with hope standing tall
An answer comes back,
‘Zero Funds To Withdraw’
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
Insufficient funds
You do bank in your heart
My cancelled check of love
Drove us apart
Your account closed off
To any eyes but your own
And you are unlikely
To provide a loan
Makes you but a pauper to me,
Your account is worthless
As far as I can see,
No cold ATM withdrawals
No smiling teller's eyes
Seems that love
You do despise
You keep your own,
Others you disdain
Only your own,
Do you maintain...
Spendthrift of love
You'll die alone,
No one is good enough
No one will hear
Your final moan
I spend my love foolishly,
At times, I admit,
And I know,
You don't give a sh_t,
But I stand a chance,
Slim it may be,
For someone to hold my hand,
With the last light I see...
I feel sorry for you
You cheat yourself
You have no emotion,
Your soul is small
I hate to see
Your final fall
No hand for you to grasp,
No hope for you to hold,
Your soul is frigid,
Your soul is cold.
Aim for your goal, aim for your poise;
Be who you are, be of fond glow;
Charm speaks of soul, charm wears sure voice.
Do weave your thoughts, do word your song;
Etch dear fine star, etch style you know;
Feel surge of plot, feel work made strong.
Give joy full range, give play a chance;
Heed waves that please, heed touch that stays;
Image crafts strange, image signs dance.
Jazz up your zest, jazz up your flings;
Keep up with ease, keep up with play;
Live well your best, live what love brings.
Meet all you face, meet all you touch;
Note how you feel, note what you think;
Opt for clear trace, opt for cheer's nudge.
Peace comes to steer, peace speaks of grace;
Quest lines and heals, quest fits new links;
Reap waves of cheer, reap sense of space.
Sense a new world, sense a grand calm;
Trust heart to know, trust mind to learn;
Urge serves a twirl, urge spreads a balm.
Vouch for each day, vouch for sure stay;
Wisdom funds flow, wisdom now yearns;
eXcite fond say, eXcite free play;
Zeal ever glows, zeal ever earns.
Leon Enriquez
21 Mar 2014
Singapore
Insufficient Funds
Miracle Man
1/13/2025
Things cease to matter
after our last check’s written,
and we face judgment
Insufficient Funds
Written: by Miracle Man
1-19-2020
I’ve watched years mount with each clock’s chime,
While traversing daily looking back in time.
A time when love, was as a glowing ember,
But were things then, as I now remember?
Today, finds time busy closing my account,
facing obstacles, that I alone can’t surmount.
But I’ll keep writing checks, being most proficient,
Until God stamps time’s account, “funds insufficient”.
Just a broken poet,
at an A.T.M.
His stomach cries out,
words hunger within
The nights are the longest,
cold darkens and chills
Fresh words on account,
new credit distills
Pushing buttons while bent,
with hope standing tall
An answer comes back,
‘Zero Funds To Withdraw’
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
He does not words utter
Nor heard syllables mutter
But a heartbeat is aflutter
With his sighting a shutter
Of a clinic answering “What’s the Matter”.
That would life save but funds scatter
His honest last savings shatter…
On his head a hammer’s clatter
Of a fever seeking to him batter;
A just consumed bread and butter
Vomited in excited gutter.
When funds are cut for
The mentally ill and the
Veterans, you're just
Asking for problems