Best Overdrawn Poems
Dear Ex,
I know you and I had our differences.
We were always finding new ways to say I loathe you.
It was my blameworthiness that allowed the rain to enter your car,
because your window was down.
I’m sorry I didn’t carry my 9 months of pregnant girth,
down four flights of stairs, to the
outside parking deck, in the rain to roll it up.
It was my fault when the bank account was overdrawn by 6 cents,
due to paying all the bills on time.
I apologize for keeping the power turned on
so I could cook fish sticks and green bean soup on your salary.
It was my fault the car was always out of gas,
since I never drove it anywhere.
What could I do but apologize for that?
It was totally my fault. By the way, I met your supervisor.
Like when I forced you
to have an extramarital relationship with a co-worker
because of the weight I had gained.
I’m so sorry my Motherhoodness was so repulsive to you.
It also was my fault our marriage didn’t last longer than 3 years,
because I chose to be happy without you.
I do regret that almost never. Did I mention my promotion?
But let’s not be sad.
For all the hurtful comments I made about your manhood because,
I couldn’t think of anything nice to say. I’m sorry.
I regret that I didn’t save some of those photos for Ripley’s Believe it or Not.
I deeply regret having never told you I entered you in an ugly man contest.
Or that your third placement, won me an additional $5 gift card.
Did I mention my new job?
So Ex,
I hope this heart felt letter of apology
finds you prosperous and in good health.
Keep those support payments coming, and
Don’t forget to feed the kitty!
Love, your new boss
(Giving voice to those who suffered and believe in poetic justice)
Should I cut the corner of your coat?
Too many times you tried to squeeze my throat;
you got perverse pleasure to see my page blank,
thought I have overdrawn the polyglot’s bank.
I saw your glee, you thought I went to flee,
you did not understand, my spirit was in command.
Without ascendancy you appointed yourself as judge,
still I chose not to bear a grudge.
Like David, my sins are uncovered,
like him I never devoured
Nathan; he was not sent by Satan.
He was sent by Him, against Whom all have sinned.
Yet you aimed to shame and then denied,
thought you caught me by surprise and caused my demise.
You have conveniently overlooked my word,
I have confessed and made my peace with the Lord.
Who sent you? You are not a messenger of peace,
Your truth doesn’t set free but spreads strife and disease.
You are not a prophet; are you the false king’s puppet?
I saw Fate throw the dice,
so now you are uncovered before my eyes;
but like David, I too will kill hatred with love,
he was content to cut the corner of Saul’s robe.
An eye for an eye? It won’t make me smile to see you die,
I will not honor vengeful games with my name.
Now, I release myself from all the hurt you’ve caused
and claim God’s gift; He who knows me more than most,
denies you satisfaction to silence my thoughts.
I am forgiven.
Through His grace I forgive you seventy times seven,
on your downfall you won’t see me gloat;
I refuse to even cut the corner of your coat.
From: 1 Samuel 24; 2 Samuel 12:1-13 and Matthew 5: 21-22
Inspired by Olive Eloisa's Theme: Not for contest
Poem of the Day - 04 January, 2016
Start the day. In what way
was the cold spring, last wet summer a
global warning, indicator. Says
one commentator on the op-ed page, the
dislocations, wars, famines will tax humanity's
technology, philosophy, even religion's ability
to see past daily survival to
the music in the rock. I've doubted the taboos
one frog among many in the slow-heating beauty
of the world we knew. Aaron's coconut.
Peepers doing well in the heavy rains, wet
with joy. Hawks and crows thrive below the jet
stream, noise, perhaps our fears
are overdrawn, we'll get along, it'll all hold together 10,000 years more,
the Holocaust will never be repeated, lush mountain and sere
desert equally appreciated, baseball
lazily paced summer evenings, the harvest in the fall
a sure thing, and the dying back a blessing come to all.
The hoopla of Christmas has come and gone
The checkbook for that spree is overdrawn
Lord, please have mercy on me
I can already foresee
To pay Uncle Sam my dog I must pawn
Outsourcing IRS I can't condone
They linked me up to Sierra Leone
I just could not comprehend
The guy on the other end
It was a nasty discourse on the phone
This year the IRS has bled me dry
May have to mortgage the house to comply
I've searched for more deductions
But find no more reductions
It hurts to laugh and I'm too old to cry
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 6 in Carolyn Devonshire's "Taxing Times" Contest - Feb 2011
I don't know who you really are, but I love the things you mutter!
Like, "Eat more chocolate! Fat is in! That biscuit needs more butter!"
You said the limit is "Suggested speed. Just hit the pedal harder."
You tell me to just let one rip then accuse another farter!
I almost passed on expensive shoes that looked and fit just great,
Because my account was overdrawn! Thank God you set me straight!
And as I sit here penning this, I love you more than ever.
You were right, I feel so good, having killed my boyfriend Trevor!
The dollar store around the block, I didn’t have a buck
McDonalds had a happy meal , I was out of luck
The ATM was putting out, my PIN was incorrect
My bank account was overdrawn, I couldn’t write a check
My car was running empty and my credit card declined
VISA called and left a message wanting to remind
The unemployment office said I’m ineligible to receive
The resumes that I sent last week no one will ever read
The doctor’s office said to me I am uninsured
The treatment that’s required, you cannot afford
My FICO score is falling, I cannot get a loan
I cannot pay the mortgage, and soon won’t have a home
My stomach is so hungry, it’s waiting for a meal
The dumpster is in lockdown, I cannot break the seal
The lottery that I didn’t win, The slot machine was cold
The metal detector’s on the brink, I can’t find any gold
The foodbank was depleted, the soup kitchen was closed
The shelter overloaded, the sidewalk overflowed
Comcast just around the block, I could not connect
K-Mart on the boulevard, they had no respect
Walmart down the corner, I wasn’t qualified
Starbucks full of young adults, middle aged need not apply
The hotel was hiring housekeepers, bilingual I was not
Hooter’s at the strip mall, I didn’t have a shot
Always building cars,
Dodge enjoyed framing grand historical ideas.
Jaguar kept long models noble.
Overdrawn Pontiac quadrupled.
Rare Saturn tested unfair.
Victorious winner xeroxed yet zany.
See it through for what it is
Don't let sentiment be anything but new
Events fall hand over fist
From mountains of distance with no point of view
Between talking about and having done
There will be a place for you
If the future should come to pass
Y'know, most likely, well I'll be long, long gone
Live suddenly then follow
Though better sense might say stay at home
When certainty becomes all but the rule
There will be a place for you
When you've been pushed
so overdrawn, exposed
You would thank the stars
for a place of your own
How with the salt in your eyes
Will you see me when all of the clouds are gone
'May take the white noise of lies
To recover your poise n' your passion
When certainty becomes all but the rule
And inaction would be the way of a fool
Between making a fuss and pressing on
There will be a place for you
By a cozy little fire
‘neath a soft lit Christmas tree
I just can’t help but think about
what Christmas means to me
I think about my Mom and Dad
so thankful they’re still here
though Dad was never really one
for lots of Christmas cheer
I think about my children
all grown up and on their own
each one doing all they can
to make a happy home
I think about my husband
and how lucky I must be
of all the girls in all the world
his gifts are just for me
I think about the friends I’ve made
while most have come and gone
A bank of memories overflow
with gladness overdrawn
I think about the choices
I have made throughout my life
how each was like a stepping stone
how some were filled with strife
I think about the hard times
and the person I might be
without the love from God above
to see things differently
My heart is filled with blessings
God has given graciously
by a cozy little fire
‘neath a soft lit Christmas tree
The hoopla of the Holiday Season has now come and gone.
Cash in the bank to pay for that spree is nigh overdrawn!
Just when I thought I was free of serious financial strain,
A packet arrived from the IRS hintin' that its tax time again!
I'll bet the feller who wrote the instructions is still a-grinnin',
As we common folk try to figger it out with our heads a-spinnin'!
My learned wife is smarter than I but she couldn't help me any.
The consarned thing may as well have been written in Afghanistani!
Although the intricacies of the system I don't quite understand,
With my trusty abacus, records and sharpened pencil in hand,
I attack the puzzlin' task hopin' that I can prevail,
Preparin' it to their satisfaction thereby avoidin' jail!
Double checkin my figgers and searchin' for deductions,
I can find no legal way to come up with further reductions.
I stare in dismay at the 'Taxable Income' on line twenty-seven.
Alas, again this year there'll be no manna from heaven!
Even with astute pencil-whippin', withheld taxes come up short.
I may have to mortgage the house to send funds with my report!
Another tax year has ended and again they have bled me dry!
As Honest Abe once said, "It hurts to much to laugh and I'm too old to cry!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
I overinvested again...
The story of my life
Or so it seems
Overinvested
I've overinvested
In my dreams….
Thinking I’d reach the stars
When I can’t break through
The atmosphere of my world
In my friends….
Thinking that they ARE my world
When they are sometimes just islands
Inaccessible to me
In my wisdom….
Thinking I can discern all truth
When I can’t even fathom,
the simple workings
of my own mind
In worthy causes...
Thinking I can save the world
Make a difference
When I need someone
To save the endangered species
Of ME
In love…
I've overinvested in love
Thinking the dividends will pay off
But I’m overdrawn…overdrawn
Unable to cover the costs of loving
When not enough deposits are made
In my personal love account
I've overinvested in my words...
Thinking that with them
I can change perceptions, thoughts, feelings
When I can’t even change
the thought patters and emotional grooves
of those in my sphere of influence
With the little things I write
I've overinvested in people's words...
Thinking they are specially crafted for me
Each one embued with magic and charm
When they are mass produced
In the same factory
Said to others
With the same intensity
I’ve overinvested….In everyone...in everything
But me….
Poor little me...
From me I've withheld
Time
Love
Compassion
I've not invested in ME
The only one I have to live with
Every minute, every hour, of everyday
From now till eternity…
Yes…YES…It’s time to invest in ME!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Look at all the men
captive to their “9 to 5’s”
suit-and-tied up
or rather, tied down
by overbooked schedules
and overdrawn bank accounts.
Checking in and checking out
from check to check
and check it out…
they call themselves free,
because they are free
to quit their “9 to 5’s”
when they check out
permanently
to heaven.
07/19/15
Alone, forgotten in this far away land
Lies a soldier, a son and a very weary man
Some think he’s dead, others could care less
In some jungle in Viet Nam is his only address
He didn’t enlist but the man called his name
And four years later he’s almost completely insane
At daybreak he’s in the fields, at night in the clink
With nothing to do but to stare and to think
He longs for his mother as tears fill his eyes
If she could see him now, she get a huge surprise
His girlfriend no doubt has moved on to better things
Like dancing and partying and perhaps wedding rings
But memories are precious as he clings to them all
And oh to have mama’s spaghetti and meatballs
Brother Jimmy hopefully will be college bound
And never have to fight on any battleground
His breathing is raspy, a bloody nose all the time
And being drafted by Uncle Sam was his only crime
He’s mostly skin and bone and his strength’s about gone
He’s been to the bank too often and his account is overdrawn
But still he holds on with hope in his heart
That one day they’ll release him so he can depart
He’s no longer a prisoner, he’s no longer in pain
He’s now in the plot where of his comrades have lain
Just another POW with perhaps a flag flying high
But as for Private Earl Simpson, it was his time to die
These are the Holidays
People are running to the stores.
No parking spaces in the parking lots
The stores are filled with fools.
Spending their money on everything.
No tables no i pods no games.
No beer no chips no hams.
Traffic is jammed on the roads.
People yelling "get out of my way you A**HOLE"
The ground is covered in white
Kids are sliding down the hill some are throwing snowballs.
Now these are the holidays.
Gifts on the floor. No tapes no wrapping paper no name tags.
Ham is burnt no ice for the drinks.
The eggnog is gone to the cats.
O what fun these holidays bring.
The mailman brings some gifts and a hand full of bills.
The phone rings it's the bank.Your account is overdrawn.
It's back to the car and to the store returning uncles joe's shirt.
THESE ARE THE HOLIDAYS MY FRIENDS> MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL
The Holiday Season has come and gone.
Bank balance for that spree is overdrawn.
Now I'm feeling mighty glum.
Since Sam wants a hefty sum,
The house and my dog I may have to pawn!
Entry for Carolyn Devonshire's "Tax And Finance Limerick" Contest
(Male)