Best Nest Egg Poems
I can't recall exactly when
Life swung and hit me on my chin
I"m ashamed to say, it knocked me cold
When I came to, I woke up old
While I was out, I had a dream
Of juggling on a balance beam
While jumping hoops, upon one leg
And one wrong move, cost one nest egg
Was it yesterday or the day before
I had it all but wanted more
When days were long and fears were short
Carouse by day, at night cavort
Yesterday, less was more
It must have been the day before
I wish I'd seen life's sucker punch
'cause now my memory's out to lunch
by Daniel Turner
Categories:
nest egg, age, humor, life,
Form:
Rhyme
The man like a phoenix rose from the smoke
And we with the audicity to hope looked up and heard
The strange cawing of the vulture white bird
Like a code unciphered, and yet the angst provoke
Of allies in the foxholes fretting for a change.
O this is a time between peace and war, no strange
Allegories here. Numbered with dead, some
Disrupting double consciousness found ransome
In books and ballot, a narrow, but fertile range
To sing of the weary years a different way.
We sang a rap around the blues without dismay
And knew that singing needed wings as well
For feathers when lingered in the flames made hell
Hotter in the heart. And there the phoenix like day
Renewed rose to better us in our dreams.
But the constant cawing, the vultures loud screams
In decibels of silence are rattling the moon
A phoenix only flies when the nest egg is ruin
Walk softly on the brittle shells, here are our dreams
It's late, it's late you cannot turn back the clock
Among the prairie hens are eagles fallen from the rock.
Categories:
nest egg, black-african amerrose,
Form:
Verse
She's thirty-three, single,
her Mom babysits her
five year old son.
She reassures herself it's
just two more hours,
then it's the blessed weekend.
Which means delicious sleep.
She has no nest egg,
she's just getting by.
There is one kind aging matron
who makes her lunch when she
cleans her large stately home.
Yet, other well-to-do homeowners
cast their false superiority heavy
in the air as she imagines wiping
off their smug faces with Pledge.
She hums to a catchy pop tune
while scrubbing toilets and
spraying down whirlpool bathtubs
as her muscles ache,
wishing she could soak in one.
Maid for the ungrateful,
she smiles remembering her
First Holy Communion,
her snow-white lacy veil,
with her rosary of pearlescent
ivory beads.
Then, a memory of
teenage politics of high school
with random daydreams like
impromptu snapshots.
Her lips and throat dry from
those wretched aerosol sprays,
always forgetting her face mask.
A few sips of tepid Gatorade,
as she softly prays her son will
excel in school.
Her learning disabilities held
her back despite her gift of
intelligence.
This day's cleaning was at the
home of a lawyer's snooty wife,
who was lunching with friends
after klutzy attempts at tennis
at the country club.
Maid for the ungrateful,
can hardly wait to get home
to soak her worn feet with
warm water and Epsom salt
in a porcelain basin. ~
Categories:
nest egg, 6th grade, 7th grade,
Form:
Free verse
I feel just like that old grey squirrel,
whose belly is empty as can be.
He keeps on searching for those acorns,
but he has climbed up a maple tree.
He worked hard and long the whole darn year,
burying his food out on the lawn.
But when he went back to grab a snack,
he had found the whole damn thing was gone.
All because some stupid bureaucrat,
said he had filled out all the wrong forms.
Now there’s nothing left of his nest egg,
to help him survive the winter’s storms.
I keep rolling the dice for sevens,
somehow, I always end up with eight.
Each time I think I’ve reached the garden,
someone has already locked the gate.
Now I’m too old to hanky panky,
and I’m too tired to even care.
Point me towards the supper table,
and just see how fast I’ll make it there.
So don’t dare ask me where I’m going,
'cause I can’t remember where I’ve been.
I’m sick of always losing the race,
Just when will it be my turn to win?
Why do I keep reaching for those dreams,
when I know they’re unattainable.
Anytime I find a little hope,
I know it is not sustainable.
Yes, I know I’m insignificant,
you don’t have to keep pointing it out.
I did not fall off the turnip truck,
with no idea what life’s about.
I know that there are no right answers,
because it’s all just lies and deceit.
But before I even start the race,
seems that I have already been beat.
If you gave a penny for my thoughts,
that’s likely twice what they would be worth.
I may be, ugly, poor, and broken,
but I’ve always been that way since birth.
All I can hope is when I’m buried
somewhere beneath a simple grey stone.
That the epitaph carved into it,
“Here lies a man who didn’t die alone.”
Categories:
nest egg, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
This poem was too long to submit without premium membership, so I have submitted it in two parts, but it is meant to be read together.
Part one....
They say he is clearly psychotic, if knowing that was even a possibility.
The visible signs are all present, his behavior is a dead give away.
"Normal" people don't act this way, they act like everybody else.
When did being different, become the diagnosis of being clinically insane?
Their image of "normal" is repeatedly drilled into our heads.
Through the direction of our leaders, our education, multi-media.
The television and cinema screen their greatest tools for propaganda.
A man and his lovely wife, with their two point five children,
A duplex in the suburbs, undistinguished from any of the others.
a neatly trimmed lawn, a few hedges, a two car garage for their one vehicle.
A couple truly in love, rarely do they argue, with great sexual chemistry.
Working constantly through the better part of their lifetimes
making enough money to pay their bills, and splurge once a week.
their companies CEO, the bill collectors, and the government's tax brackets,
all work together in unison, to ensure that they are never more than comfortable.
At the age of sixty-five, they have a small nest egg saved up together.
Only now, well into their "golden years," are they allowed to live as they choose.
Their biggest motivation and desire, is simply to survive for another year.
When they die, their children discover they have no money in their accounts.
It always is a shock, revealing your parents have died completely broke.
Ideal examples of the perfect "American Marriage," left penniless in their grave.
Luckily for the children, they had purchased a small life insurance policy.
The payout almost exactly enough to cover the burial costs and funeral.
Even experiencing this unsettling revelation at their parents expense,
These same children are pre-destined, doomed, to follow suit.
Brain washed into believing that their outcome will somehow be better.
They spent less, saved up more, purchased a better insurance policy.
Unaware their parents shared these exact thoughts, forty years prior.
Categories:
nest egg, abuse, allusion, betrayal, freedom,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I’ve sailed across the oceans blue
In search of promised treasure
I need to bid my pirate’s life adieu
For some riches you cannot measure
When I was invited to be part of the team
I was told it was a luxury cruise
Promised riches beyond my wildest dreams
Oh how I fell for the blackguard’s ruse!
Captain Bluebeard is a real mean guy
He promised me diamonds and pearls
But I’m so homesick that I sit and cry
And I never get to meet any girls
I’m stuck on this ship with sweaty sailors
You can’t begin to imagine the smell
I feel like the captain’s our jailer
My life has become a living hell
I’ve got a peg leg and a metal hook
Life’s not that easy for me
I stumble round the galley as ship's cook
But I really don’t like life on the sea
My parrot is my constant companion
He nags me that I drink too much rum
I drink it for medicinal purposes
This sailing can upset my tum
I wish that he would hold his beak
I’m fed up of his constant squawking
Why can't he shut up and not speak
We’re cooped up and he just won’t stop talking
So now I need to take drastic action
Tonight I’m going to leap overboard
The parrot’s squawking can cause a distraction
I can swim … I’ve got a swimming award
I stole all the diamonds without exception
They are hidden inside my wooden leg
The captain’s yet to find out my deception..
But I’ve raided his hidden nest egg
So now I can live a life of pleasure
And enjoy a happier life
I will relax and enjoy my leisure
And find myself a cute wife!
Contest- A pirate’s life for me
Sponsor Kelly Deschler
09~19~15
Categories:
nest egg, adventure, fantasy, humorous, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
Big ol Billy
Near old Dirran, on the river, an old time pub had its day. ..
Billy Richards was the owner, had a rupture so they say. ..
There he sold the watered whisky and the rum to all who'd pay...
Earned a quid and made a nest egg till the Murrays' came his way. ..
Sitting on his front verandah chanting
calling laughing low, .."Big ol Billy, Big ol Billy," soon the rum began to flow. ..
So enlarged was Billy's rupture, so apparent his dismay, ..
every time the chanting started, fiery rum, he'd have to pay...
In the early nineteen hundreds medicine was touch and go, ...
poisons nasty, drugs so deadly, all were used by the medico...
Not the knife for Big ol Billy, fifty fifty die that way. ..
Better get another keg, stop the Murray's chanting, hey? ...
The Murray's were Aboriginal people living on the Murray river.near the south west
Queensland town of Dirranbandi.
Sponsor Brian Strand
Contest Name 1-14 any theme /form max 14 LINES
Categories:
nest egg, adventureold, old, time, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, the coyote is on trial today
After you have heard the facts,it will not take you long to find him guilty
This case will be short, but it will not be sweet
When it is all over, there will be nothing else you can say
You will find out, he is not the one you want to meet
You will learn of his criminal activity
Rather it be two legged or four, they are all the same
Like characterics are alike, the nature of the breed
When caught in a trap, they will chew off that leg
Man or critter, they have the same name
Their heart beat, is pure greed
He would like to be the keeper of the hen house, to get your nest egg
It takes five of them to catch a cotton tail rabbit
They are only brave when in a pack
All are cry babies, when they cry at a full moon
But like all criminals, creatures of habit
Cross their fingers when they shake a hand, the other to stab you in the back
In the old West, they would have been hung at High Noon
In Southern Arizona, the Tohono O'odman Indian tribe call him this
In their native tongue, he is known as "The Trickster"
Both living the desert, they know his ways well
Been living in the desert for centuries, seldom do they miss
As the coyote paints his picture
He has been called, "The Dog From Hell"
Ranchers in the West, he loves to kill their cattle
On the Mexican Border, drug and human smugglers are called "coyote"
I tell you, he is nothing but a disgrace
Dealing with him is always a battle
And leaving you today, with one final note
Ladies and Gentlemen, I rest my case
Categories:
nest egg, animalscry, drug,
Form:
Nutty grandpa president
is talking crazy uncle Donald again
His little Chucky thumbs
is tapping epithet tweet nonsense
Batty grandpa’s been
grumpily sucking
on the hate hot sauce bottle
stashed in his KKK closet
Now he’s sporting a Commander-in-Chief cap,
dressed in a wrinkled birthday suit
Churlish grandpa wanna blow the nuclear candles out
in his Oval padded room
He’s trying to smear his coconut-frosted
pejorative German chocolate cake
on every African looking face
Calling Doctor Strangelove and nurse Annie Wilkes Misery,
bad Grandpa is verbally pooping all over the place
His anti-social, mood swing meds
is scattered everywhere on the bed
Nutty grandpa prez
is a stable genius he says
But his schizophrenia behavior
is open and shut caged rage ... Jekyll and Hyde
Hannibal Lecter ... American Gothic suicide
Old Grandpa says
young women love him like Frankenstein’s bride
His paranoid soul
got a misogynist itch
in it’s nether parts
Curmudgeon grandpa claims he’s really rich,
and has an Ebenezer Scrooge heart
Nutty grandpa prez don’t like no immigrants
who came from where he ain’t
Straight jacket truth wraps him wrong,
he loves to swear that he’s no saint
Crazy grandpa just wanna roam the West Wing halls at night,
cursing at everybody left and right
His angry autocrat ticker just wanna be dictator loved
with family suck-up sniveling loyalty
Cuckoo grandpa flew his nest egg eyes over someone in the staff,
whose nurse Ratched mirror image greedy
Nutty grandpa president just got another person fired
for improper cleansing backside kissing
And the raucous din,
rising from the voter base-ment,
means it’s electoral shock therapy time again
So lock the border doors —
keep it dissent quiet, dum-dum
Czar grandpa prez don’t like all that democratic noise
Silence of the lambs,
that soothing lullaby hum
Is the sweet sound
that calms his Joker tweeting thumbs
Rest your rage, nutty grandpa prez:
Uneasily snore deeply,
wearing your Mad Hatter MAGA brim
(keep having more troubled, neo-Nazi policy dreams
of Making America Great Again)
As the White House hospice staff is issuing
M.A.S.H unpatriotic greetings
to Parallel reality refugees
seeking insane asylum ...
Welcome, to the Oval Sanatorium
Categories:
nest egg, humor, parody, satire, word
Form:
Light Verse
As a recession holds a very tight grip across the land,
those who are in need look for a helping hand.
Although nobody can truly say I have it made,
I’ve been getting by with carpentry being my trade.
A good friend of mine who was unemployed at the time
was so destitute; he was about to turn to crime.
Pete was in a big boat with friends. He was not alone.
One day, he quietly asked me for a loan.
He said, “I have a great idea that can make me lots of money.
You might laugh at me thinking it is funny.
However, I am serious. Here’s what I have in mind:
A good dependable truck and boat is what I have to find.
You know that fishing has been a lifelong hobby of mine.
I have always been lucky with a fishing pole and line.
There are plenty of stores and restaurants where I can sell my fish.
Starting my own business is now my earnest wish.”
Pete had eleven friends who would help him in his ways.
With the right equipment, he could start in a few days.
I had built a modest nest egg of twenty-five grand.
Some financial security is what I had in hand.
I felt I would not be kissing that money goodbye.
Pete was a sincere friend that nobody could deny.
Pete started each day sailing out to sea.
The big catches he got were unbelievable to see.
He and his eleven buddies were raking in the cash.
There was much left over, so to the bank they made a stash.
Pete gladly paid back all the money he owed to me.
His fishing business was conducted quite successfully.
Pete said, “You are certainly a true blue friend of mine.
If you wanted to, you might turn water into wine.”
Well, that last remark seemed a big exaggeration.
I was only glad to help a friend in his new vocation.
Categories:
nest egg, on work and workingfriend,
Form:
Rhyme
It is going to rain; I need a rainy day fund
I need an umbrella; I’m going to need it
Fast. Not meaning to be negative, sure bet
Holding on to the positive. No longer living
By Murphy’s Law, negative, put down
Unrealistic. Life’s emergencies comes UN aware.
I can promise you, and it can have a knock on
Effect, ending with a few. Statistics shows, given
A ten year period of time, where faced with one
Of life’s unexpected emergencies, it’s only a matter
of time. Build an emergency fund a nest egg, cushion,
Whatever. Prepare before the stormy winds will blow.
Make a start though small it may be, ready get set off
You go.
Categories:
nest egg, life
Form:
‘One more job and then I am going to Panama and watch the canal in the sun’
John’s trust funds had not done so well lately and pension age approached fast
‘They ripped me off once more and I need my share of well-deserved freedom’
Justice beggared belief but redistribution of wealth was in the tools of his trade
He looked back on a distinguished career of many fine decades of occupation
Had proceeded from nicking wine gums and marbles at the local corner shop
Always quick on his feet and with nimble hands picking distinguished pockets
His first armed robbery succeeded with a toy gun filled with peas in the shooter
Fraud had not worked well that was for the learned and dyslexia had not helped
No Grammar School for him more like learning by doing and days on the streets
Short docket though for a man of his position so one final swoop for his nest egg
He neared the marble mansion torch and pass key in hand and lions on the gate
Gone with the times had an app on his watch to defeat cameras of surveillance
He could smell prawn cocktails roast ducks cranberry sauce and aged caviar had
Booked a false passport and first class flight and now he was over the high wall
Dreamt of high balls and Tequila safe in the faith that the safe could be cracked
Past the burglar alarm silencer on the barrel he encountered some hindrance
A flock of black swans started a racket and snapped at his trousers and ankles
'No more chains nor shackles' he prayed but had come prepared with some weed
Sharing is caring and the birds suddenly docile in swan song very kindly agreed
18th April 2019
Categories:
nest egg, farewell,
Form:
Free verse
I am an investment so pick your stock wisely
I am a high commodity so this could get pricey
Each share that I hold has it's own value
Whether the market is up or down I keep my statue
My assets are great in numbers and deeds
The price to earning ratio is at it's peek
My bonds are valued more than gold
My APR is at it's all time low
THIS currency was made to flow
My trading pool sets the tone
For what is new and what must go
The direction I seek must be plain
401K and IRA is not my nest egg
God is my financial advisor, portfolio manager broker
Whatever you want to call him he will be
It took a lot of work and molding to get me
Just know that I am a token; his prize
He has taken a true liken to me
So when you step be on your game
He has all claims to my fame
My rights have been bought
So don't be surprised
Cause he is very protective of whats inside
Categories:
nest egg, business, inspirational,
Form:
Change is never the same
But to change is always the same
I've been down broken roads
Crossed corriod seas
Come to the end of my rope and turned around to make a knot to make sure it goes on
But the thoughts in my head seem so confusing
The direction my life is leaning me towards
Is filled with so many questions
A dream here and dream there and two kids to boot makes me believe life will always be the same
All you need Is love is claimed but to give your kids a chance to live makes a foundation shake
I've built no wealth no nest egg you see
All I get is cracked eggs and jaded edges that cut me down
I want my children to see I am not the failure the reflection sees
But the way Utah continues to grow the faster my pockets fill with lent and unclaimed dream particulars
Is change an answer or is the same the best resolution
So unsure so fearful
All I do is write letters to myself which I call poetic thoughts
But there is no poetry in motion for me
Only clouded thoughts and insufficient means
Where is the solution in an endless sentence I write about my life.
Categories:
nest egg, fear,
Form:
Free verse
Economic servitude
has me in its chains,
Wall Street and the bankers
have all the money and the brains.
I owe, I owe to work I go
sang the seven dwarves,
off to slave away for them
listed by Mr. Forbes.
All the years and hours
put in on the job,
to put aside a nest egg
for them to legally rob.
Common thieves in Armani suits
Rolex Oysters on their wrists,
hiding behind bribed senators
as we watch and shake our fists.
Who will save us from these guys
from Washington and Wall Street?
Who will give us back our savings
we thought were ours to keep?
Will Superman or the President
swoop in heroically,
pack them off to prison
and return my money to me?
We know that’s only in the movies
or Batman comic books,
because the government of America
has become a bunch of crooks.
Categories:
nest egg, political, money,
Form:
Quatrain