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Best Money Poems

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New Money Poems

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Heart of Money by Gupta, Surina
Love and money game by sharma, Kishan
Money Manager by Robinson Jr., Freddie
Funny Money by Sivey, Russell
money-back guarantee by thomas, shari
Modern money making machine by Raynes, Lewis
A THOUGHT FOR MONEY by SOLOMON, ITSOGHOLE O
Money To God by Joshua, Adeyemi
Money is no Motivator by Wright, Tom
drugs and money by parker, cs

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The Best Money Poems


Details \| Money Poem \| I Knitted You A Scarf Listen to poem: t e t e a l a l s s s s s s s s l a l a e t e t IKNITTEDAWINTERSCARF ALARGEINTRICATECASH MEREFANCYPANTSGENT LEMANJIMKINDOFNECKC LOTHESPEOPLEWEARARO UNDTHEIRPREVIOUSLYNA KEDSKINBETWEENTHEIRH EADSANDTHEIRSHOULDER SWHICHREALLYCOUNTSIF YOULIVEINABELOWZERO WEATHERCITYWITHAFREE ZINGCOLDATMOSPHERE THATWILLMAKEYOURTE ETHCLATTERANDCLINKMA KINGSOUNDSTHATWOUL DRATTLEEVENTHOSEWIT HTHESTEADIESTOFNERVES THETYPEWITHTHOSESTRO NGJAWSTHATPOTRUDEBE YONDTHEIRFACESANDDRI VEFATBOYHARLEYMOTOR CYCLESANDCOULDCRUSH YOUWITHJUSTALOOKFROM WHERETHEIREYESSITONTH EIRVISAGEWHICHISASTRANG EWORDTOUSEHERESINCEITH INK"VISAGE"ISONEOFTHOSE SOPHISTICATEDWORDSOFFR ENCHORIGINWHICHISNOTARA WCOUNTRYTYPESLANGKINDO FWORDWHICHWOULDBEMUCH MOREAPPROPRIATEFORBIKEM ANANAMEICOINEDMYSELFFOR MARKWHOTURNSOUTTOBEAN UNEXPECTEDLYKINDGUYWHO TURNSOUTSUITSTHEWORDVI SAGEINFACTONEWITHAGREATS MILETHATOCCASIONALLYPOPS UPONMARKSFACEIACTUALLYE VENGAVEHIMTHESCARFASAGIFT (PAUSE)(2)(3)(4)ASWELLASMYW ALLETMYCARKEYSMYCREDITCA RDSMYPINNUMBERSMYWATCH t e t e a l a l s s s s s s s s l a l a e t e t THE CASHMERE WOOL I USED TO KNIT A SCARF I knitted a winter scarf, a large intricate Cashmere fancy pants, Gentleman Jim kind of neck clothes people wear around their previously naked skin between their heads and their shoulders which really counts if you live in a below zero weather city with a freezing cold atmosphere that will make your teeth clatter and clink making sounds that would rattle even those with the steadiest of nerves. The type with those strong jaws that protrude beyond their faces and drive FatBoy Harley motorcycles and could crush you with just a look from where their eyes sit on their visage which is a strange word to use here since I think "visage" is one of those sophisticated words of French origin which is not a raw country type slang kind of word which would be much more appropriate for bike man a name I coined myself for Mark who turns out to be an unexpectedly kind guy the type it turns out suits the word visage in fact one with a great smile that occasionally pops up on Marks face I actually even gave him the scarf as a gift (pause) (2)(3)(4), as well as my wallet my car keys, my credit cards, my pin numbers, my watch... Copyright © Maurice Yvonne \| Year Posted 2016
Details \| Money Poem \| Welcome To My World -The Cost Of Happiness- ~TAKE MY MONEY ~ Crimson Joy, L'Oreal Lips, DOLCE & GABBANA eyewear Mascara from beyond LONDON Bridges Like the pretty face found in front of Vanity Fair What can I say? Perfect -- goes with my daily addiction A beautiful morning cup, STARBUCKS got my money It's not more or less the cost or taste. It's all about my dependency, with popular brand names Shopping from place to place --- with a smile on my face VICTORIA SECRET and the way she wears her bra. $72 dollars it's time to double up them d's Christmas Red and December Blue Walmart can't pick up my bust the way she claims with trust. Hot Topic's on my dark fashion list, Star Wars decor to explore Obsessed with any accessory from the Walking Dead? Bennie, blankets, epic shirts with gore, spending $200.00 more Vulture is a man, with no hair, sat me down on his chair "Try, this mam' a flat iron that works like MAGIC." "Did you say magic?" Didn't ask how much, once he commenced to caress my hair Straight and silky like when I first bought the Evolution Wand I tried to resist, however, I swear I heard the Iron call my name This time, I promise to use it more than once Between you and I - I don't even care to do my hair Next thing you know, I own the Lioness curler iron too With Expensive shampoo and conditioner. What can I say, Buy 2 get the third one free Finally, I felt - I got the best bargain possible I won't even tell you how much I paid You'd probably think, $189.00 is steep How could I say no? He threw in a heating glove, that's what I call Consumer Love. Heading home, I spot Best Buy, needing a case for my iPhone 6 plus Strolling near aisle 3, I hear Dr Dre, started some new beats Falling in love with the level of quality, $299.00 how can that be? I put a pink pair in my basket, they have to be special and unique After all, $299. Means they are popular :) Bargains here bargains everywhere, check out time, I paid 550 dollars I'm so proud of myself today, I saved and gained 101 points Happy and dandy I feel complete, I will end, my freestyling write With uplifting words --- Aren't you lucky I'm not your WIFE??? ~PD~ WELCOME TO MY WORLD TRUE STORY Copyright © Poet Destroyer A \| Year Posted 2015
Details \| Money Poem \| How much do I love thee How much do I love thee Let me tabulate all the ways I bought you a new Mercedes With gold plated tire rims I bought you a humongous diamond ring The size fit for all Royals and King I bought you a store of the finest lingerie Secrets still held at the door by decree I bought you a garden of roses so red My love was surely in bloom, or so they all said I bought you a ticket to heavens pearly gates So that in paradise you’d have not to even wait I bought you your very own private Lear jet To see the world through champagne eyes My love was a vault and you emptied it dry My heart has now learned to never cry How much do you love me? Your lawyer seems to know You claimed mental duress Suffering under such stress The Mercedes was the wrong color so I am told I should have known, pink, not gold The diamond ring was too heavy to wear Your back injuries caused you painful despair The lingerie didn’t cover you just right So medical ailments kept you up many a nights The roses in bloom where not the right flower Your allergies they caused, thus making you sour The ticket to heaven you plain out refused Said it was one way, and that just wouldn’t do! You had no issues riding my Lear jet You rode the pilot as well, a mile high kinda bet My love you tossed into the bin out in back The divorce lawyer smiles at me, saying she sure is great in the sack The moral of the Story is this! If you are sitting at the table, and You see a few beetles scurrying about Maybe even whistling a tune or two Listen carefully to what they say Copyright © arthur vaso \| Year Posted 2015
Details \| Money Poem \| A Rare Find Next item up for bid, a rare coin of mine Is one 1894 s silver Liberty dime Only 24 of these coins were minted that year That is, in San Francisco, let me be clear In case anyone here has a thought to purloin We have guards and cameras on this valuable coin It's merely speculation why so few were minted The fact is, that's all, they permitted The superintendent gave most to banker friends But three were given to his daughter to spend She spent one on ice cream, the other two she saved After that,there whereabouts weren't written on page The chances of you seeing another one like this Couldn't be calculated on one hundred abacuses This perfect coin is the best ever seen And the last one that sold went for two million green If you've deep pockets, want to impress your friends My rare silver dime must surely make you grin For two million I'd say, "Going once" at that price But now 2.5 million I'd say, "Going twice" Anything over that I would gladly let it go Pay three million right now and I'll holler, "SOLD" By Daniel Turner Copyright © Daniel Turner \| Year Posted 2016
Details \| Money Poem \| Thirsty Thirsty I could tell right away he was up ta sum thin. I could see it in doze beady eyes! His wordz were smooth in a snake like sorta way, my pappy says heze city smooth. He don't look like nobody round here, he wears dat fancy tree pieze suit wit dat gold watch in da pocket. He pulz it out and swings it on its gold chain, I tink he hipnotize folk... Dat first day he come, he come in dat big caddy. Oh she a beauty, cherry red a glistenin in da sun. All dat dare Chrome reflectin back our dirt. Boy dat fella knew how ta make an entrance, he look like sum movie star outa da magazine. Folks round here were impressed, if I tell da truth I don't blame dem. Deeze ain't sophisticated folk, dey are shake yo hand keep yo promise folk. Boy dis fellow like ta shake doze hands, yad tink he was da President! When he smiled da ladies all near passed out, but I tink it were da fellas dat mostly swooned. all intoxicated by iz big wordz, mind ya all da rounz he bought added to da mood. He sayed da railway is a comin, just tirty milze down da road. Wit it, a factory an all kindz a jobz! Now jobz in a place like dis, dat is music ta da earz, prosperity in da land a dirt. Now folks here is poor, mosta demz just got dare farms. Da farmz ain't done good fer near on five years, wit da drought come da thirst Dis fancy fella pour da water in fronta da eyes, oh dat water sure look good! He got land on which ta build, but da people is poor. "No problem" he says "I'll give you mortgages on your farms." "I can start building your new homes right away." Next time he bring da banker, da people line up ta sign da paper. 2 hundrid in all. Now dat a lot, cause dare only 201 farmz. Me and pappy we da only ones dat hold out. Not da we rich, we tirsty too. We just don't like owing folks, so we watch an see. Doze houses go up fast fancy an new Da women folk can hardly wait ta be movin. No more dusty roads, all nice asphalt streets But sum dreamz ain't meant ta be! Therze a big hole were the factory spose ta be and we ain't seen any tracks been laid. Den Da bank start ta want dem mortgage payments. One by one da bank start ta take da farmz. All da good people load wat little dae got in da back of dere trucks and move away... All dats left is me an pappy. The fancy man he come ta see me, offerin me a whole lotta money for dis here land. I had sumtin special planned for him out in da barn. I hung him like da watch hangin from his gold chain! I kept da watch as a souvenir, ya never know when ya might want ta hypnotize sum one Pappy and me, we buried city smooth in his cherry caddy. Strange ting nobody come lookin for him. Mindya da bankers came an offerd a whole lotta money. It seems we were all sittin on black gold. Now pappy and me we made a deal, we wanted all dem dare houses tirty miles yonder. Also dat factory built an dat dare railway right troo da centre a town. Dem nice bankers agreed an da deal was done. I dint shake dare hands, I thought it best ta rely on paper! "In the news today two hundred families move to new homes just thirty miles outside of Rainsville. A multimillionaire formerly from Rainsville has offered the families free homes and a job at his shirt factory. The factory is expected to start operations in three weeks time." Copyright © Richard Lamoureux \| Year Posted 2016
Details \| Money Poem \| Hey, That's My Money Well, I see that Congress is proposin' another trillion dollar spree! Those inept buffoons must think money grows upon a tree! The treasury is crankin' out bales of twenty-dollar bills, Doin' their part to cure (and inflate) the nation's many ills! Funds were 'loaned' to help carmakers, now they're hollerin' fer more! A ton of dough was 'loaned' to banks, but ain't nobody keepin' score! Millions was designated to help home foreclosures to abate. Where has my money gone? I've seen minimal results to date! Funds are proposed fer more sand fer the beaches of New Joisey, And city officials want a water park out west in frigid Boise! Frenzied lobbyists are scurryin' about fer a portion of the pork, To build an emergency landin' strip on the Hudson in New York! Money is probably well-spent fer roads, bridges and agin' sewers, But spare me the cost of subsidizin' sports arenas and sozzled brewers. Lack of foresight by the banks and politicians got us in this mess, Now they cover their boondoggles with my money, nonetheless! Hordes of politicians gleefully gather at the bottomless trough, Elbowin' others fer largesse they claim will make us better off. Is there no end to compensatory spendin' and open-ended lendin'? Hey! That's my money you fellers are so very inept at spendin'! Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired © All Rights Reserved Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw \| Year Posted 2011
Details \| Money Poem \| WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A RELATIVE They crawl out of the woodwork Shedding lots of crocodile tears Grieving for an ancient relative They’ve not visited for many years ‘Auntie Annie’ is barely warm But now you see the relations swarm Waiting for the will to be read They rub their hands with glee Hoping they will be left Lots of lovely money ‘Grieving relatives’ is rubbish!! Some are taking the mick …. These mercenary vultures simply make me sick! 28th January 2017 Copyright © JAN ALLISON \| Year Posted 2017
Details \| Money Poem \| Yes I Know Yes I know people are talking But as for me I'm just going to keep on walking Girl gotta do what she needs to do To survive these streets Heck and nightmares Exactly what this lady is living through Have two Carrying one She a pregnant mommy left on her own All alone Now what is she gonna do? Working two jobs But a few others on the side A Latina girl with high expectations for her money and herself When in her small apartment There's no room for a shelf To place her achievements Yeah you better believe it A wealthy woman with a nice house And a fresh ride But she husslin' to make that extra money on the side Over 100 grand is how much debt she is in On top of it all Her husband just died He commited suicide Now what is she gonna do? Now what would you do? If the federals were coming after you.. Copyright © tamra wilson \| Year Posted 2006
Details \| Money Poem \| POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH don't know if human's will ever see every soul born, is right where it's meant to be For the rich to become the richest there has to be a place for the poorest The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory I am to believe all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man he learn's the treasures, of everything he can Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of richness seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty as an illness Love start's from the soul, and from there it is taught to grow the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough Love, trust, compassion and grace defining the difference in richest and wealth t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key for his wealth is humanly uncountable, for only God know's the value of he... Copyright © Denise Hopkins \| Year Posted 2013
Details \| Money Poem \| Things We Think Things We Think He said, “Every man is busy earning money.” She said, “Is there anything more important than love?” He said, “Is there anything more important than sex?” She said, “I think we all just fear death.” He said, “It’s like the Cats in the Cradle we just need more time.” She said, “I think we really need more space.” He moved out to a place with more space. She soon did not have enough money. She had to leave behind the house and love. Once they vowed nothing would do them part not even death. She never learned the aborted child’s sex. Biologically he still had more time. He was ambitious, indoctrinated into the ascent of money. She worked her fingers to the bone, until her death. He afforded local expensive sex. She began to view local nature as expansive space. He did not connect space and time. She knew what connected it all was love. In time he found a new love. In love, she found time. He equated good passion with good sex. She found the emerald walls of nature the best space. He loved the crisp or dirty, rumpled, green of money. Homeless— she was reprimanded in the rain “You’ll catch your death!” it's been said, The root of all evil is money. Money can’t buy you love. Nothing is certain but taxes and death. I don’t know the question, but the answer is sex. I need my space. All we have is time. I’ve learned to give love and learned that is love. I’ve learned one’s time is worth more than one’s money. I’ve learned a small space in nature explains all infinite space. I’ve learned that gender should not be judged by one’s sex. I’ve learned that empathy slows time. I’ve learned from the leaves of grass there is no death. He is more than his money and she is more than her sex. In death we find love. In space there exist time. Copyright © Toni Orban \| Year Posted 2016
Details \| Money Poem \| Community Community, what does it mean And how does it come into being Well what does the dictionary have to say “A group of people living together in one place” I guess that means were all in community Though if I were to speak in honesty It feels like we try to live separately Living by the culture of our country Which tells us, do it yourself If your strong, you don’t ask for help Life is about personal advancement About money and accomplishments Hold onto your hardships and pain Keep striving for personal gain So many lies deeply engrained How will we create change? Well I start with myself I ask for help I start with me I be the change I want to see I become an infectious contagion In all of my relations That could spread across a population Even across the nations I model my life after the master of love Who dwells in the heavens above He has brought millions even billions together Over decades, centuries, even millenniums So what else could be better Than to faithfully follow him He who said, I was anointed to proclaim good news to the poor to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free” and I say yeah that’s who I want to be But unless I engage in community Unless I get to know my fellow human beings How can I help to set them free So its time for me to put aside Popular culture, foolish pride Social codes, selfish ambitions Old roads, and useless traditions And blaze a brand new trail With my life, write a new tale Introduce a new theme Add in a few more characters And then dare to dream About how my story could impact theirs And their’s impact mine Because maybe just, maybe It might be better, might just be Not to say, I did it on my own All this, look I did it alone No maybe it would be better If we did it together So that no matter what my lot I can always know that I’ve got Friends, right until the very end Help, ready to be sent Hands willing to be lent So what need would I have for advancement For money and accomplishment I can find all that I need Everything I seek from this life, In relationship with fellow human beings Community, Maybe this is what it means Copyright © Roland Fleming \| Year Posted 2013
Details \| Money Poem \| In The Repetition Of A Kiss In The Repetition Of A Kiss When I leave the house to follow traffic patterns Tie and suitcase in my hand Running through the door to find rush hour I buy and sell gold bullion for a living On the grand piano, the one my wife and I can’t play I leave a hurried message “My dear, I’ll be back soon.” “I love you so.” “Please have the help clean the piano.” “The one that you and I can’t play.” “But if I make it rich, you and I can get some lessons.” “We’ll play an Oratorio. Opera or an Anthem Or perhaps a symphony or two one day.” In between each number we will practice kissing In the end, if we learn nothing, on this instrument Our hearts and lips will follow every note in memory In the repetition of a kiss I leave you a kiss. As always, I will miss you In the repetition of a kiss Created 9/08/14 by: Earl Schumacker - Theme- “Leave You A Kiss” The Poet II – Poetry Contest Copyright © Earl Schumacker \| Year Posted 2014
Details \| Money Poem \| Tige (Circa 1910) Grandpa had a bulldog whose name was Tige. They were close – as close as honey and bees. If Grandpa felt a cold comin’ on – Well Ol’ Tige was the one who would sneeze Grandpa was noted for his wealth and generosity. His love for me was demonstrated when he paid my college fees. The love he held for Tige was almost the same for me. And ol’ Tige was always with Grandpa wherever he might be. College life was different then, separation was the norm. And years at Alma Mater meant years far from the farm. Students have it difficult and allowances soon shrink So, short of money there, I soon began to think. Grandpa, bless his giving heart, quickly came to mind That bulldog owned his generous heart – if somehow I could find Some way to convince my grandpa to increase the money sent -- I came upon a devious plan – and this is how it went. I wrote and told my grandpa, “There’s things you ought to know. The things they’re doin’ here at school will set your heart aglow.” “They’re takin’ all these sorts of dogs – it came as quite a shock Grandpa, you won’t believe me, they’re teachin’ dogs to talk.” Now grandpa loved ol’ Tige so much it didn’t take him long To ask how much would it take to send ol’ Tige along? Well, when I gave a figure, Grandpa was satisfied If this crazy scheme was figured out, there’s no place I could hide. I kept feeding grandpa all sorts of good reports How Tige was a star pupil and mascot of all sports Two years passed and soon there came the time to take Tige home Grandpa was so excited -- Tige was never more to roam. Grandpa came runnin’ when I stepped down off the train. His eager eyes were searching for what he’d never see again. “Where’s ol’ Tige?” he asked, as we began to walk. “He’s not comin’.” I replied, “C’mon we need to talk.” This morning I was shaving in the bathroom by the sink And Tige was justa talkin’ when he looked at me and winked. “Ya know’ he said, “I’ll be so glad to be back home at last.” There are some things I’ve thought about that went on in the past.” “I was standin’ at the mirror with my razor in my hand Ol’ Tige was talkin’ ‘bout some things he couldn’t understand. I could not believe the lies he told – things he’d seen first hand Like the times he saw you wrestlin’ with that female hired hand.” His words just lit a fire with the pictures that he painted I almost couldn’t help myself – Grandpa, I nearly fainted. It seems that I lost it some and when I finally woke, I’d grabbed him by the backa his neck and cut his lyin’ throat. I know grandpa was shaken, I saw it in his eyes. A look of consternation he could not disguise He seemed to be relieved, as he looked at me and said, “Now, Son, I really need to know, are you sure ol’ Tige is dead?” Years have hidden the truth of this deception that I wrought. I’m the one who wove deceptive tales that everybody bought. But when the truth is told at last and no more lies are found You’ll gladly find an ending that surely will astound. Grandpa? -- He now lives with Jesus, and me? -- I’m headed there. Tige? – I know he’s still around though I shouldn’t tell you where. We made a pact some years ago when things went awfully bad. For years he’s been the best darn mascot my school ever had. Copyright © John Posey \| Year Posted 2012
Details \| Money Poem \| Money Money money, ringing in your tills, Calling us to worship, The hundred dollar bills. Bend our knees in wonder, Bow our heads in awe, At the power of the liar, Who now controls us all. From the darkest deep caverns, To the stars in the sky, From the infinite universe, To the strangers passing by. From your inner most conviction, To your laughing in the night, From everything you 're seeing, To everything out of sight. The new God has risen, To claim the holy throne, The one that we have emptied, Our hearts all cold as stone. The throne that we have emptied, We killed the rightful king, Sold his crown an sceptre, Pawned his sacred ring. Raised his bleeding body, Up on that bloody hill, The silent lamb still bleeding, As the money fills your tills. Copyright © ness tillson \| Year Posted 2013
Details \| Money Poem \| The Great Puppeteer The Great Puppeteer The CEO wore a six hundred dollar wool-silk blended suit and he stroked his tie as he counted his loot 10 million for me 10 million for my stockholders if you please and that leaves 7 dollars for my employees leaning back in his leather chair he muses thinking of the people he uses we’ve got to stop raising minimum wage if we’re to go on living in this golden age the great puppeteer he knows he’s got a good thing going here so with a little hocus pocus he gets his employees to focus on poor people who live in despair he gets them complaining about people on welfare it’s called divide and conquer said he you see the poor are so naive they’ll never see the card I have up my sleeve I’ll get them fighting over the scraps I leave and they won’t even notice I’m having a feast no one would believe! Copyright © Wally Flint \| Year Posted 2015
Details \| Money Poem \| SALE CRAZY On a sale, my Aunt Bel can’t be denied Access to mark-downs with red, yellow tags Off for the big loot, her shoulders take pride In carrying four gigantic tote-bags. To keep poised, she dons fancy sunglasses Like those models who shop but then conceal, A giddy look that excites the senses Obsessed about offers… Aunt’s set to reel. Hurrying to snatch branded teenage jeans Which do not fit her extra large belly; She picks a bimbo hat, dye, and face-creams As twinkling eyes roll … what a joyful spree. While purchases are arranged , now she whines The Mall’s closing with a long queue that’s packed Bel groans,” I'm dizzy; my breathing's not fine,” She gets ahead… feigning a heart attack! Humorous Poetry Contest Sponsor: Thomas Martin Copyright © nette onclaud \| Year Posted 2014
Details \| Money Poem \| World Order Financiers feel superior to farmers and pundits have it over poets. All to the good because if you think America's doing just fine, don't skip to the poetry reviews. Our enemies are barbarous, our allies duplicitous but our smart bombs are smart - that's how they found you. Dad said all wars are resource wars. Follow the money. The world needs more order, nothing less than Nazis, never may the anarchic man's thoughts be my thoughts, each shove sends a ping, shields urge on shields, helmets helmets, we can be the reigning kings between the last empire and the next or implement a vision of collective deliberation and binding agreements. Can China's navy be harnessed to ensure free passage through the South China Sea? We'll see how things work out in the next generation. In the meantime should I read Henry Kissinger's meditations? He who thinks poetry's effete probably considers Darwin a geek and Einstein a postal clerk. Containment means leaving space for the passionate and zealous to face themselves and giving them missiles that don't work. Slowing everyone down until one thing's done well - governance or sustenance or brotherhood. When violence comes to the neighborhood the hierarchy will hold or fold, it is then the peace work proves relevant. Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching outer space for an entity to unite us as humanity. That person, or city, is consciousness. By that what is meant. Sitting still and thinking deeply on the relation of anger to coercion, systems for correcting the decisions of earlier presidents. We're required to report incidents of depression to a doctor because you're a valued member of of our community, or so insignificant no one notices or cares. How necessary the interface of war and poetry! Copyright © Robert Ronnow \| Year Posted 2015
Details \| Money Poem \| Because Education Is Important The last time I had seen this particular cousin of mine, I was still in college and he had a head full of hair. In between, there had been three funerals, two weddings and four births in our Trojan royalty of a family. I had been a university graduate for a year, and the prospect for a job, a decent one at that, had started to grow dimmer by the day. He asked, “Will you tutor my daughter?” “Yes!” I said. And we set out immediately. He, on his bike and I, on my motorcycle following him. We took a right turn at the famous landmark of the statue of demoness Putana, sitting on the grass with her bosom out and legs spread forward. He introduced me to his wife and daughter. Telling them to stand side by side, he told me, “She's only eleven, but look at her! Already equal in length and width to her mother, who is no delicate petal herself. Do you think you can teach her GK?” The universe wasn't made with dissent. Plus, the chicken samosas were really delicious. I tried on a grin while the overachieving pre-teen bustled around the room showing me her accolades for painting, singing, studying. As I left he pointed at a tree, “Do you know what tree is that?” “Bael?” I answered thoughtfully. “Apple. That's an apple tree.” “Oh! Does it bear fruits?” “Not in this climate!” He laughed out loud. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: 30 / 11 / 2016 Contest: James Tate Sponsor: Space Cadet Copyright © Tamal Kundu \| Year Posted 2016
Details \| Money Poem \| Genetically Modified America I want to be paid in Silver. I wish to be paid in Gold. Understand our fiat Dollars, Are not being backed by Gold I don't want your Vaccines. I don't need your Meds. I don't want the Government playing with our Heads. Government claims we're Non-Conformist. We won't walk with You. Look at all the Sheeple. They don't have a Clue. They prey on your Medications. They except Government Vaccines. All along, they don't Know, What goes on behind the Scene. Genetically Modified Organisms. That means Me and You. Spread the word to the Uninformed. For they don't have a Clue. Is it really We The People? Or, Corporations who pay to Rule. Manipulation through the Media. It's a Mind controlling Tool. Printing money from thin Air. It's really getting Old. It's time for Corporations, And their Agenda to be Exsposed. Understand I'm just a Poet. I'm not being Paid. Understand, American Voters. You are being Played. Copyright © Michael E. Harris \| Year Posted 2016
Details \| Money Poem \| The City And The State Of Play Today THE CITY AND THE STATE OF PLAY TODAY No one worries about morals today They follow the rules they create So to them all is ok Those on the outside looking in Are the only ones feeling queasy As avarice and selfishness triumphs So easily Good corporate citizens they claim to be Industry awards abound on their walls As thank you tokens from themselves Yet society harbours a lot of ill-will As it feels the often brute force of The raid Grab And destroy mentality Of people only wishing to make money Any which way While Using up all of society’s communal resources Sharks abound The waters are forever bloody as they Know no fraternity and would gladly Cannibalize anyone with no influence The ability to upend competitors A cherished characteristic In a bullish machismo drenched environment Bullet proof psyches Absorb and repel any pangs About unfairness Blocking any regulatory or chattering classes’ Attempt at nirvana and equality They employ better paid lobbyist So always have the upper hand In influencing policy The gravitational attraction of money Towards another even bigger pot of money Numbs any cautionary instinct That would take a long term view The thrill of instant riches Overpowers common sense And even decency Fat cats they all wish to be The slickness of glossy tongued lobbyist Who spin wrongs till they become rights Embolden oestrogen low males with no inbuilt brakes To take risks that eventually cost them disgrace They are champions of graft not of society Loopholes in legislation That were built in by too friendly politicians Coupled with ambiguous suits and claims Cause far reaching hardship when the good old days are long gone The villains only muster some phantom national pride When begging for a lighter sentence Some are forgiven Others fatally wounded by an unforgiving public Lots of money can be made both legally and illegally As one racket is closed another materialises instantly The conveyor belt of dishonesty Overwhelms bureaucracy Who is not David to the goliath that is money The ethos is wealth The acquisition and the maintaining of gains Not often acquired through hard work There is no limit of acceptable financial comfort For the millionaire always wants to be a billionaire And the mega rich super rich Money must always be hidden from the taxman Shareholders want tax free dividends Investors want tax breaks for buying with other people’s money Infrastructure and new runways must be built But not from the pocket of those who wish it With their hands outstretched And always wanting more and more From a government too eager to please We have a tax system geared to the advantage of party donors And non-domiciled moguls and tycoons Who know no philanthropy unless it is tax efficient Disadvantaging society by Never paying their fair and moral share The largess they reap so selfishly They wish not to share Wages are low Taxes are nil Only the investor wins as we pay his bills Fast paced expansionist dogma Is preached within city limits Only the highest paid The biggest company The greatest profits Are allowed They are held up as ideals that all who Wish to succeed must follow Gunslingers they all appear to be Rushing in to capitalize on the wanton success of their peers The cloud of misery left behind Is never seen for the look forward Never backward Hindsight is never welcomed in this parasitic environment The political will to weed out these reckless demons Is lukewarm at best The revolving door of government creating opportunities For industry and industry gratefully accepting politicians post government Ensures that self-interest is king An economy built on flawed assumptions of wealth creation Is one that must forever be in hyper-drive Creating ever expanding demand and supply That is as real as a thief’s conscience When taking the rings off a dead persons fingers Money must always be made for There is no alternative Wealth is good Poverty to them is laziness The city is not the heart and soul Of the nation It is but one player in a system skewed in its favour We all must share in the wealth of this country To ensure its longevity Copyright © evrod samuel \| Year Posted 2013
Details \| Money Poem \| Thoughts Before Bed the past is haunting me I just want to be free there doesn’t seem to be an escape and success have never took shape is this my destiny hardly any money money isn’t God I may have been flawed but I’m one hundred percent pure I believe in this life for sure Copyright © Robert Heemstra \| Year Posted 2013
Details \| Money Poem \| Valuable values Valuable values A child receives a beautiful toy, it came in a cardboard box with shiny wrapping paper. A short time later the child was seen playing with the box and the toy was abandoned in the corner. Was it because the child was ungrateful? Did the child not appreciate the value of the gift? Did the child not understand what the gift was? Did the child not comprehend that the box although it was beautiful, it was empty, and had no value? It's hard to comprehend all the why's, but sometimes even we as adults do the same things. We value empty things with shiny wrappers, more than things of real value. For example: What's worth more, has more value, your values, or money? Would you compromise morals your values, for riches and success? Many do, thinking they will be happier with more things. Take Hollywood as an example: Many have achieved fame and fortune yet have not attained true happiness. They chased the shiny boxes of success because of the shiny wrapping paper but in the end they are left feeling empty. Don't believe me? why then do the rich and famous also commit suicide? Let's not make the same mistakes... we can learn that our values are what's valuable, and when they are compromised, or sacrificed, we lose, more than what we may gain. When we lose our values we lose ourselves.... because we are the gift... we have the gift of life... we prove by how we use it, or abuse it, whether we are grateful, or not, for the gift, to the giver, or whether we prefer shiny empty boxes. October 11, 2016 John Derek Hamilton Copyright © John Hamilton \| Year Posted 2016
Details \| Money Poem \| The Wishbone Listen to poem: break a wishbone you end up with the small half of the split it's suppose to be fifty - fifty odds still we all know a very few of the people a teeny weeny portion of the population own the lion share of all the wealth like bats without radar we fly blind spend our days dreaming of the larger piece of the wishbone here's the rub the turkey's already been skinned clean Mar. 2 2016 armand Copyright © Maurice Yvonne \| Year Posted 2016
Details \| Money Poem \| FISCAL FIASCO I met someone I know quite well, he gets about in cars, does buy and sell. He spoke to me upon a theme, we were stirring coffee; I had just added my cream. When (Fiat) money, he intoned..) This word does it ring a bell? Of it have you heard; or known, do tell.? The cost of Fiat cars I then proclaimed' No it’s of money I speak,he said if it’s all the same, I had bought some autos and to me the word was told, That it is money without collateral backing, that’s the truth stone cold! So in this stressured contemporary rhyme, I think I must… It’s now high time In fact a lack of sober views and action which did not ensue... Control! ….. control!, "well they did not" now high (inflation) pop pop pops..! Consume, consume they said and greed is good for all..! Poor old Jim john and Doug..) Rachel, Joan and Queenie McCall..! A dream was sold and lives were told, It’s Oh! so safe, more so than gold! Now Fiat cash is on the scene, they run it off Oh! ream on ream Just like my coffee encircling mug, so here’s to the truth lets give it a plug. When I again pour in my cream, as it begins to merge like inflations infusion, Maybe I’ll dream. That financial fiasco’s and social screams are only rumours on a jittery theme, However until "their problem" has been (sold), I’ll trade some paper cash for gold. © Joe Maverick 13-11-2010 Copyright © Joe Maverick \| Year Posted 2010
Details \| Money Poem \| IF I WERE RICH If money was no object I wonder where I’d go I’d love to visit friends who have just moved to Orlando I could buy a wonderful mansion packed full of treasure With servants to wait on me, so I could enjoy my leisure But to move away from everything I know doesn’t appeal to me Money doesn’t buy you happiness - well not from what I can see So in reality I would not move away from my little house I’d give my fortune to charity and live like a church mouse When I leave this mortal coil I could look down from my home in the clouds See that others have benefited, for there are no pockets in shrouds 10~21~15 If You Were Rich Sponsor Mystic Rose Copyright © JAN ALLISON \| Year Posted 2015

Details | Money Poem |

Welcome To My World -The Cost Of Happiness-

~TAKE MY MONEY ~

Crimson Joy, L'Oreal Lips, DOLCE & GABBANA eyewear 
Mascara from beyond LONDON Bridges
Like the pretty face found in front of Vanity Fair
What can I say? Perfect -- goes with my daily addiction

A beautiful morning cup, STARBUCKS got my money
It's not more or less the cost or taste. 
It's all about my dependency, with popular brand names
Shopping from place to place --- with a smile on my face
VICTORIA SECRET and the way she wears her bra.
$72 dollars it's time to double up them d's
Christmas Red and December Blue 
Walmart can't pick up my bust the way she claims with trust.

Hot Topic's on my dark fashion list, Star Wars decor to explore
Obsessed with any accessory from the Walking Dead?
Bennie, blankets, epic shirts with gore, spending $200.00 more

Vulture is a man, with no hair, sat me down on his chair
"Try, this mam' a flat iron that works like MAGIC." 
"Did you say magic?"
Didn't ask how much, once he commenced to caress my hair
Straight and silky like when I first bought the Evolution Wand 
I tried to resist, however, I swear I heard the Iron call my name
This time, I promise to use it more than once
Between you and I - I don't even care to do my hair 
Next thing you know, I own the Lioness curler iron too
With Expensive shampoo and conditioner.
What can I say, Buy 2 get the third one free
Finally, I felt - I got the best bargain possible
I won't even tell you how much I paid
You'd probably think, $189.00 is steep 
How could I say no?
He threw in a heating glove, that's what I call Consumer Love.

Heading home, I spot Best Buy, needing a case for my iPhone 6 plus
Strolling near aisle 3, I hear Dr Dre, started some new beats
Falling in love with the level of quality, $299.00 how can that be?
I put a pink pair in my basket, they have to be special and unique
After all, $299. Means they are popular :)
Bargains here bargains everywhere, check out time, I paid 550 dollars
I'm so proud of myself today,  I saved and gained 101 points 

Happy and dandy I feel complete,
I will end, my freestyling write
With uplifting words  --- Aren't you lucky I'm not your WIFE???

~PD~
WELCOME TO MY WORLD
TRUE STORY

Details | Money Poem |

I could tell right away he was up ta sum thin.
I could see it in doze beady eyes!
His wordz were smooth in a snake like sorta way,
my pappy says heze city smooth.
He don't look like nobody round here,
he wears dat fancy tree pieze suit
wit dat gold watch in da pocket.
He pulz it out and swings it on its gold chain,
I tink he hipnotize folk...

Dat first day he come,
he come in dat big caddy.
Oh she a beauty,
cherry red a glistenin in da sun.
All dat dare Chrome reflectin back our dirt.

Boy dat fella knew how ta make an entrance,
he look like sum movie star outa da magazine.
Folks round here were impressed,
if I tell da truth I don't blame dem.
Deeze ain't sophisticated folk,
dey are shake yo hand keep yo promise folk.

Boy dis fellow like ta shake doze hands,
yad tink he was da President!
When he smiled da ladies all near passed out,
but I tink it were da fellas dat mostly swooned.
all intoxicated by iz big wordz,
mind ya all da rounz he bought added to da mood.

He sayed da railway is a comin,
just tirty milze down da road.
Wit it, a factory an all kindz a jobz!
Now jobz in a place like dis,
dat is music ta da earz,
prosperity in da land a dirt.

Now folks here is poor,
mosta demz just got dare farms.
Da farmz ain't done good fer near on five years,
wit da drought come da thirst
Dis fancy fella pour da water in fronta da eyes,
oh dat water sure look good!

He got land on which ta build,
but da people is poor.
"No problem" he says
"I'll give you mortgages on your farms."
"I can start building your new homes right away."
Next time he bring da banker,
da people line up ta sign da paper.
2 hundrid in all.
Now dat a lot,
cause dare only 201 farmz.
Me and pappy we da only ones dat hold out.
Not da we rich,
we tirsty too.
We just don't like owing folks,
so we watch an see.

Doze houses go up fast fancy an new
Da women folk can hardly wait ta be movin.
No more dusty roads,
all nice asphalt streets
But sum dreamz ain't meant ta be!

Therze a big hole were the factory spose ta be
and we ain't seen any tracks been laid.
Den Da bank start ta want dem mortgage payments.
One by one da bank start ta take da farmz.
All da good people load wat little dae got
in da back of dere trucks and move away...

All dats left is me an pappy.
The fancy man he come ta see me,
offerin me a whole lotta money for dis here land.
I had sumtin special planned for him out in da barn.
I hung him like da watch hangin from his gold chain!
I kept da watch as a souvenir,
ya never know when ya might want ta hypnotize sum one

Pappy and me,
we buried city smooth in his cherry caddy.
Strange ting nobody come lookin for him.
Mindya da bankers came an offerd a whole lotta money.
It seems we were all sittin on black gold.
Now pappy and me we made a deal,
we wanted all dem dare houses tirty miles yonder.
Also dat factory built an dat dare railway right troo da centre a town.
Dem nice bankers agreed an da deal was done.
I dint shake dare hands,
I thought it best ta rely on paper!

"In the news today two hundred families move to new homes just thirty miles outside of Rainsville. A multimillionaire formerly from Rainsville has offered the families free homes and a job at his shirt factory. The factory is expected to start operations in three weeks time."

Details | Money Poem |

Hey, That's My Money

Well, I see that Congress is proposin' another trillion dollar spree!
Those inept buffoons must think money grows upon a tree!
The treasury is crankin' out bales of twenty-dollar bills,
Doin' their part to cure (and inflate) the nation's many ills!

Funds were 'loaned' to help carmakers, now they're hollerin' fer more!
A ton of dough was 'loaned' to banks, but ain't nobody keepin' score!
Millions was designated to help home foreclosures to abate.
Where has my money gone?  I've seen minimal results to date!

Funds are proposed fer more sand fer the beaches of New Joisey,
And city officials want a water park out west in frigid Boise!
Frenzied lobbyists are scurryin' about fer a portion of the pork,
To build an emergency landin' strip on the Hudson in New York!

Money is probably well-spent fer roads, bridges and agin' sewers,
But spare me the cost of subsidizin' sports arenas and sozzled brewers.
Lack of foresight by the banks and politicians got us in this mess,
Now they cover their boondoggles with my money, nonetheless!

Hordes of politicians gleefully gather at the bottomless trough,
Elbowin' others fer largesse they claim will make us better off.
Is there no end to compensatory spendin' and open-ended lendin'?
Hey!  That's my money you fellers are so very inept at spendin'!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | Money Poem |

WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A RELATIVE

They crawl out of the woodwork
Shedding lots of crocodile tears
Grieving for an ancient relative
They’ve not visited for many years
‘Auntie Annie’ is barely warm
But now you see the relations swarm
Waiting for the will to be read
They rub their hands with glee
Hoping they will be left
Lots of lovely money

‘Grieving relatives’ is rubbish!! Some are taking the mick ….
These mercenary vultures simply make me sick!

28th January 2017

Details | Money Poem |

Yes I Know

Yes I know people are talking
But as for me
I'm just going to keep on walking
Girl gotta do what she needs to do
To survive these streets
Heck and nightmares
Exactly what this lady is living through

Have two
Carrying one
She a pregnant mommy left on her own
All alone
Now what is she gonna do?

Working two jobs
But a few others on the side
A Latina girl with high expectations for her money and herself
When in her small apartment
There's no room for a shelf
To place her achievements
Yeah you better believe it

A wealthy woman with a nice house
And a fresh ride
But she husslin' to make that extra money on the side
Over 100 grand is how much debt she is in
On top of it all
Her husband just died
He commited suicide
Now what is she gonna do?
Now what would you do?
If the federals were coming after you..

Details | Money Poem |

POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH



 don't know if human's will ever see
 every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
 there has to be a place for the poorest

The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt
 each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
 I am to believe all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story

The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
 he learn's the treasures, of everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of richness
 seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty as an illness

Love start's from the soul, and from there it is taught to grow
 the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace defining the difference in richest and wealth
 t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth 

He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
 for his wealth is humanly uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...

Details | Money Poem |

Things We Think

                              Things We Think

He said, “Every man is busy earning money.” 
She said, “Is there anything more important than love?”
He said, “Is there anything more important than sex?”
She said, “I think we all just fear death.”
He said, “It’s like the Cats in the Cradle we just need more time.”
She said, “I think we really need more space.”

He moved out to a place with more space.
She soon did not have enough money.
She had to leave behind the house and love.
Once they vowed nothing would do them part not even death.
She never learned the aborted child’s sex.
Biologically he still had more time.

He was ambitious, indoctrinated into the ascent of money.
She worked her fingers to the bone, until her death.
He afforded local expensive sex.
She began to view local nature as expansive space.
He did not connect space and time.
She knew what connected it all was love.

In time he found a new love.
In love, she found time.
He equated good passion with good sex.
She found the emerald walls of nature the best space.
He loved the crisp or dirty, rumpled, green of money.
Homeless— she was reprimanded in the rain “You’ll catch your death!”

it's been said,

The root of all evil is money.
Money can’t buy you love.
Nothing is certain but taxes and death.
I don’t know the question, but the answer is sex.
I need my space.
All we have is time.

I’ve learned to give love and learned that is love.
I’ve learned one’s time is worth more than one’s money.
I’ve learned a small space in nature explains all infinite space.
I’ve learned that gender should not be judged by one’s sex.
I’ve learned that empathy slows time.
I’ve learned from the leaves of grass there is no death.

He is more than his money and she is more than her sex.
In death we find love.
In space there exist time.

Details | Money Poem |

Community

Community, what does it mean
And how does it come into being
Well what does the dictionary have to say
“A group of people living together in one place”

I guess that means were all in community
Though if I were to speak in honesty
It feels like we try to live separately
 Living by the culture of our country

Which tells us, do it yourself
 If your strong, you don’t ask for help
Life is about personal advancement
About money and accomplishments
Hold onto your hardships and pain
Keep striving for personal gain
So many lies deeply engrained
How will we create change?

Well I start with myself
I ask for help
I start with me
I be the change I want to see

I become an infectious contagion
In all of my relations
That could spread across a population
Even across the nations
 
I model my life after the master of love
Who dwells in the heavens above
He has brought millions even billions together
Over decades, centuries, even millenniums
So what else could be better
Than to faithfully follow him

He who said, I was anointed 
to proclaim good news to the poor
 to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free”

and I say yeah that’s who I want to be
But unless I engage in community
Unless I get to know my fellow human beings
How can I help to set them free

So its time for me to put aside
Popular culture, foolish pride
Social codes, selfish ambitions
Old roads, and useless traditions

And blaze a brand new trail 
With my life, write a new tale
Introduce a new theme
Add in a few more characters
And then dare to dream
About how my story could impact theirs
And their’s impact mine

Because maybe just, maybe
It might be better, might just be
Not to say, I did it on my own
All this, look I did it alone
No maybe it would be better
If we did it together

So that no matter what my lot
I can always know that I’ve got
 Friends, right until the very end 
Help, ready to be sent
Hands willing to be lent
So what need would I have for advancement
For money and accomplishment

I can find all that I need
Everything I seek from this life, 
In relationship with fellow human beings
Community, Maybe this is what it means

Details | Money Poem |

In The Repetition Of A Kiss

            In The Repetition Of A Kiss

When I leave the house to follow traffic patterns
Tie and suitcase in my hand
Running through the door to find rush hour
I buy and sell gold bullion for a living 
On the grand piano, the one my wife and I can’t play
I leave a hurried message
“My dear, I’ll be back soon.”  “I love you so.”
“Please have the help clean the piano.”
“The one that you and I can’t play.”
“But if I make it rich, you and I can get some lessons.”
“We’ll play an Oratorio. Opera or an Anthem
Or perhaps a symphony or two one day.”
In between each number we will practice kissing
In the end, if we learn nothing, on this instrument
Our hearts and lips will follow every note in memory
In the repetition of a kiss

I leave you a kiss. 

As always, I will miss you
In the repetition of a kiss

Created 9/08/14 by: Earl Schumacker - Theme- “Leave You A Kiss” The Poet II – Poetry Contest

Details | Money Poem |

Tige

(Circa 1910)

Grandpa had a bulldog whose name was Tige. 
They were close – as close as honey and bees. 
If Grandpa felt a cold comin’ on –
 Well Ol’ Tige was the one who would sneeze

Grandpa was noted for his wealth and generosity.
His love for me was demonstrated when he paid my college fees.
The love he held for Tige was almost the same for me.
 And ol’ Tige was always with Grandpa wherever he might be.

College life was different then, separation was the norm.
And years at Alma Mater meant years far from the farm.
Students have it difficult and allowances soon shrink
So, short of money there, I soon began to think.

Grandpa, bless his giving heart, quickly came to mind
That bulldog owned his generous heart – if somehow I could find
Some way to convince my grandpa to increase the money sent --
I came upon a devious plan – and this is how it went.

I wrote and told my grandpa, “There’s things you ought to know.
The things they’re doin’ here at school will set your heart aglow.”
“They’re takin’ all these sorts of dogs – it came as quite a shock
Grandpa, you won’t believe me, they’re teachin’ dogs to talk.”

Now grandpa loved ol’ Tige so much it didn’t take him long
To ask how much would it take to send ol’ Tige along?
Well, when I gave a figure, Grandpa was satisfied
If this crazy scheme was figured out, there’s no place I could hide.

I kept feeding grandpa all sorts of good reports
How Tige was a star pupil and mascot of all sports
Two years passed and soon there came the time to take Tige home
Grandpa was so excited -- Tige was never more to roam.

Grandpa came runnin’ when I stepped down off the train.
His eager eyes were searching for what he’d never see again.
“Where’s ol’ Tige?” he asked, as we began to walk.
“He’s not comin’.” I replied, “C’mon we need to talk.”

This morning I was shaving in the bathroom by the sink
And Tige was justa talkin’ when he looked at me and winked.
“Ya know’ he said, “I’ll be so glad to be back home at last.”
There are some things I’ve thought about that went on in the past.”

“I was standin’ at the mirror with my razor in my hand
Ol’ Tige was talkin’ ‘bout some things he couldn’t understand.
I could not believe the lies he told – things he’d seen first hand
Like the times he saw you wrestlin’ with that female hired hand.”

His words just lit a fire with the pictures that he painted
I almost couldn’t help myself – Grandpa, I nearly fainted.
It seems that I lost it some and when I finally woke,
I’d grabbed him by the backa his neck and cut his lyin’ throat.

I know grandpa was shaken, I saw it in his eyes.
A look of consternation he could not disguise
He seemed to be relieved, as he looked at me and said,
“Now, Son, I really need to know, are you sure ol’ Tige is dead?”

Years have hidden the truth of this deception that I wrought.
I’m the one who wove deceptive tales that everybody bought.
But when the truth is told at last and no more lies are found
You’ll gladly find an ending that surely will astound.

Grandpa? -- He now lives with Jesus, and me? -- I’m headed there.
Tige? – I know he’s still around though I shouldn’t tell you where.
We made a pact some years ago when things went awfully bad.
For years he’s been the best darn mascot my school ever had.

Details | Money Poem |

Money

Money money, ringing in your tills,
Calling us to worship,
The hundred dollar bills.
Bend our knees in wonder,
Bow our heads in awe,
At the power of the liar,
Who now controls us all.
From the darkest deep caverns,
To the stars in the sky,
From the infinite universe,
To the strangers passing by.

From your inner most conviction,
To your laughing in the night,
From everything you 're  seeing,
To everything out of sight.

The new God has risen,
To claim the holy throne,
The one that we have emptied,
Our hearts all cold as stone.

The throne that we have emptied,
We killed the rightful king,
Sold his crown an sceptre,
Pawned his sacred  ring.

Raised his bleeding body,
Up on that bloody hill,
The silent lamb still bleeding,
As the money fills your tills.

Details | Money Poem |

The Great Puppeteer

The Great Puppeteer

The CEO wore a six hundred dollar wool-silk blended suit
and he stroked his tie as he counted his loot
10 million for me
10 million for my stockholders if you please
and that leaves
7 dollars for my employees

leaning back in his leather chair
he muses
thinking of the people he uses
we’ve got to stop raising minimum wage
if we’re to go on living in this golden age

the great puppeteer
he knows he’s got a good thing going here

so with a little hocus pocus
he gets his employees to focus
on poor people who live in despair
he gets them complaining about people on welfare

it’s called divide and conquer said he
you see
the poor are so naive
they’ll never see the card I have up my sleeve
I’ll get them fighting over the scraps I leave
and they won’t even notice
I’m having a feast no one would believe!

Details | Money Poem |

SALE CRAZY



On a sale, my Aunt Bel can’t be denied
Access to mark-downs with red, yellow tags
Off for the big loot, her shoulders take pride
In carrying four gigantic tote-bags.

To keep poised, she dons fancy sunglasses
Like those models who shop but then conceal,
A giddy look that excites the senses
Obsessed about offers… Aunt’s set to reel. 

Hurrying to snatch branded  teenage jeans
Which do not fit her extra large belly;
She picks a bimbo hat, dye, and face-creams
As twinkling eyes roll … what a joyful spree.

While purchases are arranged , now she whines
The Mall’s closing with a long queue that’s packed
Bel groans,” I'm dizzy; my breathing's not fine,”
She gets ahead… feigning a heart attack!



Humorous Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Thomas Martin

Details | Money Poem |

World Order

Financiers feel superior to farmers
and pundits have it over poets.
All to the good because if you think America's
doing just fine, don't skip to the poetry reviews.
Our enemies are barbarous, our allies duplicitous
but our smart bombs are smart - that's how they found you.

Dad said all wars are resource wars. Follow
the money. The world needs more order, nothing
less than Nazis, never may the anarchic man's thoughts
be my thoughts, each shove sends a ping,
shields urge on shields, helmets helmets, we can be
the reigning kings between the last empire and the next

or implement a vision of collective deliberation
and binding agreements. Can China's navy
be harnessed to ensure free passage through
the South China Sea? We'll see how
things work out in the next generation.
In the meantime should I read Henry Kissinger's meditations?

He who thinks poetry's effete
probably considers Darwin a geek and Einstein
a postal clerk. Containment means leaving space
for the passionate and zealous to face themselves
and giving them missiles that don't work.
Slowing everyone down until one thing's done well -

governance or sustenance or brotherhood.
When violence comes to the neighborhood
the hierarchy will hold or fold, it is then the peace work proves relevant.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching outer space
for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.

By that what is meant. Sitting still and thinking deeply
on the relation of anger to coercion,
systems for correcting the decisions of earlier presidents.
We're required to report incidents of depression
to a doctor because you're a valued member of of our community,
or so insignificant no one notices or cares.

How necessary the interface of war and poetry!

Details | Money Poem |

Because Education Is Important

The last time I had seen this particular cousin of mine, I was still in college and he had a head full of hair. In between, there had been three funerals, two weddings and four births in our Trojan royalty of a family. I had been a university graduate for a year, and the prospect for a job, a decent one at that, had started to grow dimmer by the day. He asked, “Will you tutor my daughter?” “Yes!” I said. And we set out immediately. He, on his bike and I, on my motorcycle following him. We took a right turn at the famous landmark of the statue of demoness Putana, sitting on the grass with her bosom out and legs spread forward. He introduced me to his wife and daughter. Telling them to stand side by side, he told me, “She's only eleven, but look at her! Already equal in length and width to her mother, who is no delicate petal herself. Do you think you can teach her GK?” 

The universe wasn't made with dissent. Plus, the chicken samosas were really delicious. I tried on a grin while the overachieving pre-teen bustled around the room showing me her accolades for painting, singing, studying. As I left he pointed at a tree, “Do you know what tree is that?”

“Bael?” I answered thoughtfully. 

“Apple. That's an apple tree.” 

“Oh! Does it bear fruits?” 

“Not in this climate!” He laughed out loud.





---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 30 / 11 / 2016
Contest: James Tate
Sponsor: Space Cadet

Details | Money Poem |

Genetically Modified America

I want to be paid in Silver.
I wish to be paid in Gold.
Understand our fiat Dollars,
Are not being backed by Gold

I don't want your Vaccines.
I don't need your Meds.
I don't want the Government 
playing with our Heads.

Government claims we're  Non-Conformist.
We won't walk with You. 
Look at all the Sheeple.
They don't have a Clue. 

They prey on your Medications.
They except Government Vaccines.
All along, they don't Know,
What goes on behind the Scene.

Genetically Modified Organisms.
That means Me and You.
Spread the word to the Uninformed. 
For they don't have a Clue.

Is it really We The People?
Or, Corporations who pay to Rule.
Manipulation through the Media.
It's a Mind controlling Tool.

Printing money from thin Air.
It's really getting Old.
It's time for Corporations, 
And their Agenda to be Exsposed. 

Understand I'm just a Poet.
I'm not being Paid.
Understand, American Voters.
You are being Played.

Details | Money Poem |

The City And The State Of Play Today

THE CITY AND THE STATE OF PLAY TODAY

No one worries about morals today 
They follow the rules they create
So to them all is ok
Those on the outside looking in 
Are the only ones feeling queasy 
As avarice and selfishness triumphs
So easily 

Good corporate citizens they claim to be
Industry awards abound on their walls
As thank you tokens from themselves
Yet society harbours a lot of ill-will
As it feels the often brute force of 
The raid
 Grab 
And destroy mentality
Of people only wishing to make money 
Any which way 
While Using up all of society’s communal resources

Sharks abound
The waters are forever bloody as they 
Know no fraternity and would gladly 
Cannibalize anyone with no influence 
The ability to upend competitors
A cherished characteristic 
In a bullish machismo drenched environment 

Bullet proof psyches
Absorb and repel any pangs
About unfairness
Blocking any regulatory or chattering classes’
Attempt at nirvana and equality 
They employ better paid lobbyist 
So always have the upper hand 
In influencing policy 

The gravitational attraction of money 
Towards another even bigger pot of money 
Numbs any cautionary instinct
That would take a long term view 
The thrill of instant riches
Overpowers common sense 
And even decency 
Fat cats they all wish to be 

The slickness of glossy tongued lobbyist
Who spin wrongs till they become rights
Embolden oestrogen low males with no inbuilt brakes
To take risks that eventually cost them disgrace 
They are champions of graft not of society 

Loopholes in legislation
That were built in by too friendly politicians 
Coupled with ambiguous suits and claims
Cause far reaching hardship when the good old days are long gone 
The villains only muster some phantom national pride
 When begging for a lighter sentence 
Some are forgiven
Others fatally wounded by an unforgiving public

Lots of money can be made both legally and illegally
As one racket is closed another materialises instantly
The conveyor belt of dishonesty
Overwhelms bureaucracy 
Who is not David to the goliath that is money

The ethos is wealth
The acquisition and the maintaining of gains
Not often acquired through hard work
There is no limit of acceptable financial comfort
For the millionaire always wants to be a billionaire
And the mega rich super rich

Money must always be hidden from the taxman
Shareholders want tax free dividends
Investors want tax breaks for buying with other people’s money 
Infrastructure and new runways must be built 
But not from the pocket of those who wish it 

With their hands outstretched
And always wanting more and more
From a government too eager to please 
We have a tax system geared to the advantage of party donors
And non-domiciled moguls and tycoons
Who know no philanthropy unless it is tax efficient 

Disadvantaging society by  
Never paying their fair and moral share 
The largess they reap so selfishly
They wish not to share 
Wages are low
Taxes are nil
Only the investor wins as we pay his bills

Fast paced expansionist dogma
Is preached within city limits
Only the highest paid
The biggest company
The greatest profits
Are allowed 
They are held up as ideals that all who
Wish to succeed must follow
Gunslingers they all appear to be
Rushing in to capitalize on the wanton success of their peers
The cloud of misery left behind 
Is never seen for the look forward 
Never backward 
Hindsight is never welcomed in this parasitic environment 

The political will to weed out these reckless demons
Is lukewarm at best 
The revolving door of government creating opportunities
For industry and industry gratefully accepting politicians post government 
Ensures that self-interest is king 

An economy built on flawed assumptions of wealth creation
Is one that must forever be in hyper-drive
Creating ever expanding demand and supply 
That is as real as a thief’s conscience 
When taking the rings off a dead persons fingers 

Money must always be made for 
There is no alternative 
Wealth is good
Poverty to them is laziness

The city is not the heart and soul
Of the nation
It is but one player in a system skewed in its favour
We all must share in the wealth of this country
To ensure its longevity

Details | Money Poem |

Thoughts Before Bed

the past is haunting me
I just want to be free

there doesn’t seem to be an escape
and success have never took shape

is this my destiny 
hardly any money

money isn’t God
I may have been flawed

but I’m one hundred percent pure
I believe in this life for sure

Details | Money Poem |

Valuable values

Valuable values

A child receives a beautiful toy,
it came in a cardboard box
with shiny wrapping paper.
A short time later
the child was seen
playing with the box
and the toy was abandoned in the corner.

Was it because the child was ungrateful?
Did the child not appreciate the value
of the gift?
Did the child not understand 
what the gift was?
Did the child not comprehend 
that the box
although it was beautiful, 
it was empty, and had no value?

It's hard to comprehend all the why's,

but sometimes even we as adults
do the same things. 

We value empty things 
with shiny wrappers, 
more than things of real value.

For example:

What's worth more, has more value,
your values, or money?
Would you compromise morals
your values, for riches and success?

Many do, thinking they will be happier
with more things.

Take Hollywood as an example:

Many have achieved fame and fortune
yet have not attained true happiness.

They chased the shiny boxes of success
because of the shiny wrapping paper
but in the end they are left feeling
empty.
Don't believe me?
why then do the rich and famous 
also commit suicide?

Let's not make the same mistakes...

we can learn that our values 
are what's valuable,
and when they are compromised, 
or sacrificed,
we lose, 
more than what we may gain.

When we lose our values 
we lose ourselves....
because we are the gift...
we have the gift of life...
we prove by how we use it,
or abuse it,
whether we are grateful,
or not,
for the gift, 
to the giver,
or whether we prefer
shiny empty boxes.

October 11, 2016
John Derek Hamilton

Details | Money Poem |

The Wishbone

Listen to poem:


break a wishbone
you end up with the small half of the split

it's suppose to be fifty - fifty odds 
still we all know a very few of the people 
a teeny weeny portion of the population 
own the lion share of all the wealth

like bats without radar 
we fly blind
spend our days 
dreaming 
of the larger piece 
of the wishbone

here's the rub 
the turkey's already been skinned clean


Mar. 2 2016
armand

Details | Money Poem |

FISCAL FIASCO

I met someone I know quite well, he gets about in cars, does buy and sell.
He spoke to me upon a theme, we were stirring coffee; I had just added my cream.
When (Fiat) money, he intoned..)
This word does it ring a bell?
Of it have you heard; or known, do tell.?
The cost of Fiat cars I then proclaimed'
No it’s of money I speak,he said if it’s all the same,
I had bought some autos and to me the word was told,
That it is money without collateral backing, that’s the truth stone cold!
So in this stressured contemporary rhyme, I think I must… It’s now high time
In fact a lack of sober views and action which did not ensue...
Control! ….. control!, "well they did not" now high (inflation) pop pop pops..!
Consume, consume they said and greed is good for all..!
Poor old Jim john and Doug..)  Rachel, Joan and Queenie McCall..!
A dream was sold and lives were told, It’s Oh! so safe, more so than gold!
Now Fiat cash is on the scene, they run it off Oh! ream on ream
Just like my coffee encircling mug, so here’s to the truth lets give it a plug.
When I again pour in my cream, 
as it begins to merge like inflations infusion, Maybe I’ll dream.
That financial fiasco’s and social screams are only rumours on a jittery theme,
However until "their problem" has been (sold),  I’ll trade some paper cash for gold.

© Joe Maverick 13-11-2010

Details | Money Poem |

IF I WERE RICH

If money was no object I wonder where I’d go
I’d love to visit friends who have just moved to Orlando

I could buy a wonderful mansion packed full of treasure
With servants to wait on me, so I could enjoy my leisure 

But to move away from everything I know doesn’t appeal to me
Money doesn’t buy you happiness  - well not from what I can see

So in reality I would not move away from my little house
I’d give my fortune to charity and live like a church mouse

When I leave this mortal coil I could look down from my home in the clouds
See that others have benefited, for there are no pockets in shrouds

10~21~15

If You Were Rich 
Sponsor Mystic Rose

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World Order

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Genetically Modified America

The City And The State Of Play Today

Thoughts Before Bed

Valuable values

The Wishbone

FISCAL FIASCO

IF I WERE RICH