Best On The Money Poems
1O. Shut your trap to avoid any flap
9. Do not be overly fraught by "conventional thought" (dinosaurism)
8. Know how to deal with Soylent Green People
7. Stuff your ideas and different views-tip toe on the softest of shoes
6. Paperwork and procedure (I know) one can't bumble...doing so will make ya really humble
5. That being said, just go with the herd...bite your tongue people! Don't say a word!
4. Don't think too much-like we did...that special group without computers as a kid
3. If number four applies to you, don't question the almightly computer (as I sometimes do)
2. Clever, innovative, challenging, and problematic...yes, DAMNIT!, sometimes it pays to be
erratic
1. You are not a weirdo, strange, or dumb...just follow the status-quo, and get the **** done
Ironic, yes; I am able to say this over the "net". Contradictory, sure; technology is a
menacing lure. Maybe good 'ol Ray Bradbury was right on the money, and this is all pretty
darn funny. Farenhieght 451, I think your day may come. RIP books and innovation.
OH you marbles in a jar!
Teacher wants us to guess how many of you there are
I try to count the ones showing, but I lose track
This silly circular jar, has neither a front nor back
The child with the closest guess, will undoubtedly score
The dangling allure of candy galore
After several examinations of size, girth, and magnitude
I devised a plan, I had to act rude!
I looked at the clock, five minutes left in class
It was time to act, I had to act fast
I jumped on my desk, pooting with my arm pit
Not stopping a bit, when the teacher asked quit
It worked! I won! A detention date!
Alone with a certain marble jar, was my fate
Ten minutes into detention
The teacher stood up, and said I’ll be back in five
Then up from my chair, I came alive
My tipped towed creep walk, had to look funny
But my marble guesstimate had to be on the money
The teacher walked back into the room
And set a manila folder down
I was safe, number known, fake snoring, seat bound
Detention had just started
I was shocked when she said I could go
But I was gone
Quicker than an arrow released from a bow!
After tossing and turning all night with no rest
I walked in the next morning, and turned in my guess
It seemed to me, to be, the longest day of the year
But it came
When the teacher announcing the winner
Announced my name
Clenching my fists
I shook them to the left And right of my head
Laughing to myself
“ I can’t believe it”, I said
As she walked to her Closet to award my Amazing feat
I noticed the manila folder On her desk
Had my out-poking
Allergy sheet
Highlighted Was the word NUTS…
How could this be
A years supply of Goobers
Was awarded to me!
_________________________________________________
Moral of the story is... don't cheat! You are never as sly as you think you are.
One fleeting Friday Freda Foster fretted at the frog pond. She said" This was suppose
To be my day."
I said yeah, go on. "I've been invited to this gala affair at THE JUKE
BOX JAM owned by Sam and I simply have nothing to wear. The
Next day Freda tossed three torn jeans in the trash. Just then Jesse jumped
The juke box and did the jig James and Jonesy joined in, and Willy
Watched as he too started jigging, and he did the jig with Wendy.
It was a BLAST. They went up stairs and sat in chairs and played the
Juke box and did the jig real fast. Talked all night about the jigful past
And other dances that last.
When they went home DAY break shown. It was so surreal. Next
SATURDAY should be the same so socialize. Jesse called Jonesy,
Jonesy called James. A three way conversation of cordial contention.
"Hey man how do you feel?" James asked JONESY
"Man we went all night. I feel alright."
Jesse added "and I feel alright we jigged and we jived."
They agreed in unison. "The thing was live."
This coming Saturday we'll surely bring the girls yeah all
Three JOLIE, JULIA, AND JUSTINE. Yes, then we will all show for a
Sensational Saturday. They all agreed next week SATURDAY will
Have swag, and swing and some swang and sway.
Will Freda and Freddie Foster follow? They're so funny. Those two
Are on the money.
Oh yeah. They'll be there.
On either side
Of a crowded family dinner table
There are signs of ambition and resentment
Success and failure
Marked by those who pass
The plate
And those who only take.
A lighter than air blimp
Floated
Lazy circles
High above a City
Of breadlines desperation
As New York struggled
Through the Great Depression.
Hank was tough
Self reliant and hungry
Eager to impress
He washed
And waxed
His uncle’s car
Calloused hands
Carefully caressing
The sleek curves
Of a 1938 V16 Caddy.
Catching his reflection
In the chrome grill work
He ignored
The rough lines
In his face
Focusing instead
On the money
And power behind
The car.
Wet sponge
Going up and down
The rich’s man car
Sweat pouring down his neck
Pails of water
Clanging an alarm
Under an August sun
Having never owned a car
Hank
Was dismayed
When the wax
Clouded
Up
In the summer heat.
Well dressed
Republican
Hands on hips
Uncle was upset
At what he saw
Incompetence
Was wasted time.
The sudsy water
Drained away
Any hopes of
Hank getting a job
In his uncle’s firm.
The Depression was a disaster
For some it came sooner
For Uncle it came later
Packing a surprise punch
That was catastrophic
Uncle lost everything.
The house
The fancy parties
And the ‘38 Caddy with dual spare tires mounted on each front
Gone for pennies on the dollar.
Ever resourceful
Hank got a job as a clerk
In the US Patent Office
One day
He realized
Beef and potatoes
On a modest clerk’s salary
Tasted better than Uncle’s lavish dinners
The seeds of disappointment
From that summer’s day
Occasionally came back
To remind him what was meant to be
Thinking of his red faced Uncle
In a starched shirt
On that hot August afternoon
Hank broke into a wide grin
And ordered another plate of beef stew.
Look at our daughters
They now show no ill in laying with men old as their fathers
Look at our sons
Nothing is holding them back from scamming the green people with their bad brain and laptops
Look at our mothers, fathers, the young men and alike; women,
They now have no time for their own children,
Everyone is too busy searching for just one thing,
And that is known as MONEY!
Why will a lady lay with a dog?
Or why’ll she prefer to be known in the environ as a hog?
Is it not just for one thing?
They choose to sell their body?
Why will a schooler choose to become a drop-out with no good passion?
But he’s trying to boycott hardships and hardwork
He’ll just join the bad gang
And will receive money off stealing from the innocent man
He’ll swerve off money from the fleeceable parents
And to all their good, he’ll put an end
He’s not retarded
He just wants the wealth; in anyway it comes and at whatsoever cost, he cares less!
Blame it on the money,
What is ours is now owning us,
And we still show no remorse,
As even today, some of your sons and daughters are still singing this MONEY SONG!
©Emmiasky Ojex
My Parting Gift.
It’s not Funny
Never leave Life’s bus behind.
It’s full of much that rhymes.
Count only on the adventure.
Even if the need for dentures.
Don’t count on the money honey.
From me it's not funny or coming.
THE OLD INDIAN
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
A story making the rounds about an old apache
Who said, I remember everything thats happened to me
A New York newspaper picked up the curious news
Invited the Indian to the city to explore his views
An ace reporter was assigned the task of verification
To see if the story was false or worthy of accreditation
Met in a New York hotel and started the conversation
Where born? In a tipi just outside the reservation
What was the name of the doctor? There was no doctor
I was brought into this world by a midwife named Proctor
What was the name of your first grade teacher
It was a man called William Bailey, a Baptist preacher
What was the date and the time when you met your wife?
It was may 29th at 3:50 pm, the most wonderful day in my life
Your brother joined the army, you said he left on a train
Yes, on the bullet express 5:15 pm, during a heavy rain
Every question answered with an authentic reply
The old Indian was accurate none can deny
Your long term memory is right on the money
Your short term memory may not be as key
What did you have for breakfast, the question begs
The old Indian said got up early and had some eggs
The reporter satisfied the Indian was for real
This interview is over chief, your memory surreal
Thirty years later the reporter retired
Moved out to Arizona to a condo he had acquired
On his morning walk he saw the old Indian, as he ambled
He raised his hand and said how, the old said scrambled
THE PEOPLES SERVANT
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
He was here today promised pie in the sky
But we’ll soon discover its just another lie
They’ll say anything that to them is a plus
But once they are in they make fools of us
They need our vote to get elected
First order of business get re elected
They don’t need our money for the campaign
They get it from those who have something to gain
A freshman representative from any state
May have intentions that to him are great
But when the established seniors get his ear
They’ll guide and instruct and make it clear
That when he needs help or financial aid
He wont qualify til he joins the parade
The parade of voting for unworthy pork
These projects are like eating soup with a fork
The laws they pass affect you and me
But they’re exempt, their perks are free
I question why we continue give foreign aid
To tyrants and despots, makes me afraid
That some of those funds may surely bounce
From the tyrants hands to secret accounts
They pass out flyers at county fairs
After two terms they’ve become millionaires
If things get dull and their attention slips
They plan exotic fact finding trips
Those trips would cost a fortune for you and me
The trips are on us and to them totally free
They come home and host a town meeting
Take a look at who’s in the front row seating
Peoples servant(2)
But the best of all is a fund raising event
Where the affluent givers use money well spent
Backing a candidate is a system well tested
It yields great returns on the money invested
Once they’re established with one term or two
Hard to unseat them the special interest is glue
These are best described as serial politicians
The facts or a lie is part of their renditions
They support their lives at the public’s expense
Taking firm positions on both sides of the fence
They have little to fear, bullet proof by far
If they get caught with their hand in the cookie jar
Their own will reject them from left and right
None of them want to be in the public light
If he is found guilty after numerous trials
You will find his clone fully prepped in the aisles
*Nathan's Song
Nathan loved to be playin' baseball
Talk with his friends everytime they'd call
He would rather be doing for others---any day.
Nathan loved the lake in the Summer,
Skiing in winter--one slope or other.
He was full of life and had an easy goin' way.
Nathan loved to eat Mexican food,
Jelly beans, when he was in the mood.
He would rather wear his flip-flops than shoes--everyday.
Nathan loved dogs and playin' guitar,
All kinds of music--he was a star!
His heart was full of love and he showed it every way.
You were my joy...You were my joy...
You were my joy...You were my boy.
Nathan loved to laugh and be funny,
His impish grin was on the money:
He dressed up like a 'Sugar Daddy' at school that day.
Nathan loved his family and friends
Especially one girl---to the end...
And his death was full of life by what he gave away.
Though he's gone from our presence, he walks with Jesus hand in hand
And now, up in Heaven, Jesus says, "Well Done, Nathan...
You are my joy...You are my joy...
You are my joy...You are my boy."
by Deborah Burch©11/8/2006
For: PD's contest of sorrows and make you cry poem
*Note: Nathan was a senior in high school 6 years ago, the son of my BFF. He was killed in a MVA; his girlfriend was driving, ran a stop sign and a tractor trailer truck hit them broadside on Nathan's side of the car. The other 3 in the car lived...as did the driver of the truck...he had just talked to his mom on the cell phone--which was never found...I wrote this as a song and sang it for them as my gift...It doesn't end there:
Nathan was an organ donor. Many lives have been saved because Nathan donated all he had left to give--the gift of life. This year his Mom will get to meet the recipients and they intern meet her...She, with the Red Cross, hold Blood Drives each year in Memory of Nathan: 'One Love Blood Drive'...This poem is dedicated to Nathan, and to the awareness that we can all save lives...
Donate blood...and be an organ donor...be someone's joy. love,deb
"The Prosecution "NOR" "The Defense", makes the accused come to court,and this is something I must "Report".The accused is not going to get a jail or prison sentence,and this is a fact that cannot go unmentioned. This trial shows "good intentions"! In this trial there will be no appeal,and there will be no one who will offer to make any kind of deal : I wonder if this "Trial" is really real? The "Trial" must go on,and cannot be dismissed,because "Democracy " Itself" was put "In Harms Way" on Jan 6 2021": The "Trial must go on to "Relieve the "Threat" that was made on "Democracy",and make that "Threat" known"to all Americans,and All Nations world wide who want "Democracy" in their "land"!! On Jan,6, 2021 something went "Wrong" and must not carry On in any "Democracy" so that "Democracy can remain "Strong"!!!! The "Trial of Donald J. Trump" is a "Public Display" that points to Jan 6,2021 when "Democracy in "The U.S.A. came "Undone" in front of "Everyone" under God's Sun!! The "Seat Of Democracy" wants to have this "Trial",even though no one will be sent to "Jail",or receive a "Prison sentence": Democracy "Might" some how be restored,after "Criminal" knocked down the "Democratic Doors"! The "Seat Of Democracy" "Was Put In Harms Way" ON Jan 6, 2021,and something "MUST" be done about that real true fact,and "Never Forgotten" if "Democracy wants to continue to "STAND".There are "Criminal Racist,White Supremacist,Black Supremacist,Yellow Supremacist,Brown Supremacist,Red Supremacist:God is "The Only Supreme Being"! Anti- Democracy is their plan. The real "ENEMY IS HATE". Hate will take all of those who practice it to "HELL"where they belong! Misery loves company,and when we are "Angry" we are not at all "Loving". When we are "Loving" we are not at all "Angry". The "Trial" of Donald John Trump must go on ,because on Jan 6,2021 something went "WRONG",and "Democracy Itself almost came "UNDONE"!!!!The Trial of Donald John Trump must go on,so that we can still "Write Money"and say:"IN GOD WE TRUST".We write these words on the money that we spend,and "NEVER" GLORIFY" ANY WOMEN OR ANY MEN"! It is a sin to glorify any women or any men! The saying "In God We Trust" "Unites Us All"!!!The Rich ,Poor, Middle Class,Weak, Strong,short,tall,and small!!!
People would do anything to get their hands on the money, even stealing from these people.
I'm told that people will have committed insurance fraud by either faking an injury,
faking a full disability, or fake a death. These people really need to be honest with all
of the insurance companies, that also includes the auto insurance companies, because if
these hard-working employees who are working for all insurance companies find out that
these bad people aren't really injured or whatever, they're going to jail. It makes me
sick that those phonies will tend to bleed all of them dry. There's a lot of
investigations that will have been started by multiple insurance companies, and one of
them is either Nationwide, Allstate, and/or others. We've got insurance fraudulent
investigations, embezzlement investigations, the works. What I don't like about these
people, trying to have gypped these insurance agents and its companies out of their
hard-earned money is when they became scam artists. And unless these so-called "victims"
prove that they're injured in auto accidents or whatever, then they don't have cases
pending. Now I know why I never want to defraud all of the insurance companies out of
their money, because I'm not like one of these scam artists. So if these people are
planning on gypping these hard workers who work for multiple insurance companies out of
their hard-earned money, well they've got another coming. So my suggestion for these
would-be scam artists better be honest with all insurance companies because if they're
planning on taking their money from these hard-workers and their companies, they're going
to prison for fraud and theft. This type of fraud has got to stop.
South Park
At you're peril
Should you choose to disregard
Believing it's humor to dark
Once understood
Becomes instantly funny
Bang on the money
As it parodies life
The absolutely absurd
That you could not write
As so contrite
The human plight
Is comedy gold
Destined never to grow old
Back when I moved from Montreal to Toronto
Invited some old friends for a visit
They were leaving Montreal early in the morning
Their arrival, I sure didn't want to miss it
Left work at three travelling north to the highway
As I entered the onramp I heard
This annoying, obnoxious blowing of a horn
Who was this damn joker, this nerd
Surely could have knocked me over with a feather
For there among the gas fumes and chrome
Were my dear old friends, laughing and shouting
They let me in and followed me home
Timing had to be totally bang on the money
The freakiest of happenings, bar none
Some things in life are totally mind bending
And this most assuredly was one
Though many long years have since past and gone
Each time I relate this tale
Sends chills up and down this old spine of mine
And my bodily functions set sail
© Jack Ellison 2012
“True story...”
Robins the name given me
But poemprophet or sweet pea
Are some that suit me much more
Than others used on me before
Poemprophet fits to the letter
Writing poems there's nothing better
Sad, life, love or even funny
My words are right on the money
Flowing emotions I can't stop it
Touching hearts just like a prophet
"Peas" are green and I am to
Some things I am a virgin to
Like drinking, drugs and other stuff
But there is more than enough
Days bringing me things to find
Acting "sweet" and very kind
To everyone that I meet
Always trying to repeat
The same logic every day
Treating others in the way
I want them to treat me back
There's not one time I will slack
Or reverse from what I do
Never being mean or cruel
Or acting like a racist fool
So Sweet Pea I am proud of
Spreading cheer, niceness and love
robin davis
Woman, why must you play the harlot?
You wash yourself, shampoo your hair,
put on make-up, with extreme care.
Then you dress up, with scanty clothes,
run out the door, and hit the road.
Why must you play the harlot?
In the strip club, you gab well,
Sweetly proclaim, lap dance for sell.
Your mind's fixed, on the money,
If fools don't pay, they get no honey.
Why must you play the harlot?
You then haste, your way on home,
Call up a lecher, on the phone.
You say, baby, I need some action;
I'm talking physical, sexual seduction.
Why must you play the harlot?
The lecher arrives, at your door,
You let 'em in, ya' hit the floor.
The air cools, but blood heated,
Flesh on flesh, two souls inebriated.
Why must you play the harlot?