Best Paycheck Poems
Work, as fun as death
More, more, more, they want always
Sweet relief, paycheck.
freeze lamb cocoon
carrot boot
skeleton mist daze
TWO WEEKS GONE BY,
AND WE EARNED ANOTHER PAYCHECK.
NOT MUCH TO SAY,
WITH TONS OF BILLS TO PAY.
WHAT DO WE SAY WITH SO MUCH TO PAY?
YET WITH EVERY LITTLE DAY,
WE FIND OURSELVES WITH TIRED EYES,
AND A WEARY SOUL.
LET US RENEW OUR LIVES,
AND BRING NEW PURPOSE TO EACH DAY!
GIVE US THE JOY, HEALTH, AND WEALTH
OF AN ABUNDANT LIFE,
WITHOUT JUST, TWO WEEKS GONE BY.
LET US BE GRATEFUL EACH AND EVERY DAY!
WRITTEN BY, CHADWICK ANDREW VINCENT
NOVEMBER 25, 2015.
Smells like power
But tastes like chicken
Administrative duties
Make my pulse quicken
Repression wears a tie
Arrogance sports hose
Make Bossy smile
That’s how the garden grows
Timeclock sphincter
Clamped down tight
Constipation of thought
Absence of light
Artistic fire snuffed
Sculptor’s hand inert
Bottom line worship
Trade the smock for the shirt
Corporate aorta
Chocked with fat pride
With toad-lust for power
Freedom must collide
stationed at kissing desks
I feel the implode of anxiety
within this sweathouse of labor and woe
telephones chime
with the sweet rhythm of security
being enslaved can be a joy all its own
ungrateful maybe
but a yet to be defined pay scale
can mean so much in a bunker
filled with high school grads
through the fog and thunder
of these cackling underachievers
who slam file drawers in disgust
a voice sweet and low says onto me
hey you wanna' f---
"If you're living from paycheck to paycheck, you're living beyond your means."
When I tell others this they tend to get angry at very high extremes,
but then what do I know?
I'm just a hard working blue collar Joe
whose bank account is never low.
I've had all of the same responsibilities,
such as paying my debts and raising a family,
yet all of my peers are filing for bankruptcy.
Do you make sure to tap all the dirt from your spikes with your bat,
even if it takes two full-length TV time-outs for you to do so?
Do you cross yourself once, twice, thrice,
or perhaps fidget and fiddle with the letters on your uniform,
no matter that they're sewn on so tightly that Superman himself couldn't
budge 'em?
Do you rub your hands together vigorously enough to make 'em bleed,
perhaps because you've just spit into them in the on-deck circle?
Do you take myriad cumbersome practice swings with three weighted bats,
flinging them aside to wave the feathery club remaining menacingly as you
turn to face the pitcher?
Do you dance and prance to some hip melody, like an apprentice snake-
charmer, as you approach the plate, inviting fans to heap trashloads of scorn and abuse on the batting helmet perched atop your fashionably overlong hair?
Or do you stride to the plate purposefully without all of that fussing and
fumbling, or all that commotion, to focus on doing what batters have
historically tried to do, which is to hit the tarnation out of that little round
ball zooming toward them at upwards of 90 m.p.h?
---Well, if that's what you do, then I am sure you're not a major-league player:
They earn their $4.5 million annual paychecks by doing
all that other stuff.
I am the senior cashier in a store.
Most of the time my job is just a bore.
My co-workers are great
So the job I can't hate.
The paycheck is all I'm really here for.
you see my car
think am a star
we set a bar
and had this to say
well i live day by day
being homeless
AM ONE PAYCHECK AWAY
1,
It's hard to stretch my check through the whole month
When just paying bills feels like a triumph.
I always work away for meager pay
Clocking in eight great hours ev'ry day!
I'm gliding now into the fourth long week
With no money left, there's still food to seek.
I look for every coin in my pocket,
While next door, someone pawns her gold locket.
I'll eat a bag of peanuts to get by,
'Cause their bit of protein does help me thrive.
I'm hoping that they do not cut the gas
Because the stove's gonna turn too cold fast.
It's worse to lose the electricity
Since I couldn't finish my school studies.
2.
It seems we're due for one big debt bubble,
And when it bursts, we're bound for real trouble.
Or maybe fortunes built on sand go bad.
While some people spend ev'ry cent they've had.
Living on junk food would not be healthy.
Eating that way is not for the wealthy.
How can we, the poor, still cut our corners
When there's no hot food on kitchen burners?
People need money to cover lunch food,
And streaming subscriptions must be renewed.
No one wishes to accept a handout
We pay debt on time to get a shout-out!
We're now embracing Minimalism,
Eating healthy for metabolism!
life has its ups and down
you feel its on the ground
hard times around
this i can say
what day by day will play
beind like this homeless
AM JUST A
PAYCHECK AWAY
AND THERE’S NO PAY CHECK ON FRIDAY
I revel in close calls
And what I do takes balls
I’m comfortable hanging by a thread
While I eliminate the thought of my being dead
I swim through rough waters against the tide
And just keep repeating “Satan is on my side”
One must be aware of what turning a corner may bring
Because I look at life as if it is simply a fling
Each day is a joke and I am its punch line
And I don’t advise anyone to live a life like mine
It’s frightening and fearful and every day I fret
I worry about those I will meet and those I have already met
I’m a man who lives with close calls and has balls
As I wander through haunted ,lengthy and eerily dark halls
It frightens me when I hear the sound of someone turning a knob
And that’s what makes being a junkie such a difficult job
© 2011.…Phreepoetree
Pulling out my card.
Doesn’t seem too hard.
When I’m convinced of my wealth.
Despite new books on my shelf.
Despite sunglasses that are new.
I assumed by account was tried and true.
But when the balance is none.
I find myself feeling undone.
I want to go back.
To stop myself from getting snacks.
I want to undo.
Buying a shirt that is blue.
I hear honking behind me.
At least the receipt for my balance is free.
I leave with no money in hand.
I was going to go to the beach with sand.
But with no money for a picnic lunch.
I suddenly have a hunch.
That my friend will pay what is due.
But then the sky turns a strange hue.
Which helps me remember.
I owe her from December.
I guess I’ll go home.
With no where else to roam.
I know my mom’s advice was true.
That spending too much will make me blue.
I enter the foyer.
The smell of cooking makes me wander over.
My mom is making lunch.
She seems to have a hunch.
On the hammock in the yard, I sway.
I learned my lesson on this sunny day.
She hands me an iced tea.
I start to dream.
Of my paycheck tomorrow.
Which I can spend without sorrow!
Paycheck
Paycheck
Come to me
Let me and
My savings
Rise
AND THERE’S NO PAY CHECK ON FRIDAY
I revel in close calls
And what I do takes balls
I’m comfortable hanging by a thread
While I eliminate the thought of my being dead
I swim through rough waters against the tide
And just keep repeating “Satan is on my side”
One must be aware of what turning a corner may bring
Because I look at life as if it is simply a fling
Each day is a joke and I am its punch line
And I don’t advise anyone to live a life like mine
It’s frightening and fearful and every day I fret
I worry about those I will meet and those I have already met
I’m a man who lives with close calls and has balls
As I wander through haunted ,lengthy and eerily dark halls
It frightens me when I hear the sound of someone turning a knob
And that’s what makes being a junkie such a difficult job
© 2011.…Phreepoetree