Best Payers Poems
They are the first, and they will be the last I realized
In a symphony, wrapped infinitely of endless eyes
Dots hitting dots
Dots eating dots
In a rippling dark sea covered by ice
Stars are the payers of time and timings ultimate price
To see one of them fall, is like hearing a chorus of angelic flights
Their descent in the night skies, personifies a crippling fear of heights
Categories:
payers, beautiful, deep, night, sky,
Form:
Lyric
We are dishwashers and bill payers, we have day jobs and night jobs.
Some of us are retired, I am not, because I know too many
who died after they did that.
They lost their purpose, and before they could find another one,
they gave up, and left their earth life.
We do not have any more time than the rest of you,
but we grab it up and use it in full force.
We have chosen a life few choose. We are word players -
writing on napkins and paper plates.
Grabbing whatever is near at the time, jotting down phrases,
rhyming words, and lyrics.
We knew that we could and we can, and we do because our souls
will not let us not do.
We are the dreamers, the schemers, the world lovers,
the imagination people.
We are the ones who invent the new things, and
tear up old ideas to make room for new ones.
There is a driving force that tells us we must.
I call mine Trixie. She is an inner voice that yells at me.
She has crazy ideas. She cajoles me and coaxes me.
She holds me down until I yell “Aunt!” so I follow her lead.
We are the poets.
Categories:
payers, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Strong, resilient, iridescent
Trapped in folds, they are translucent
Culture cultivate grafted right
Pearls don't sparkle they reflect light
Mollusk secretes nacre layers
Wild pearls fetch prompt giga payers
Placed right they are prettiest sight
Pearls don't sparkle they reflect light
Implant good in delicate soul
Ego, pride, hate, lust can play foul
Turn to true source to be moonlight
Pearls don't sparkle they reflect light
Kindness, faith and love are virtues
Rare, admirable true values
They attract source and return bright
Pearls don't sparkle they reflect light
Categories:
payers, beauty,
Form:
Rhyme
As we bring in spring the thing I mainly dread,
Is preparing overbearing taxes for the Feds.
If I had the power to empower anything,
I’d shower that power on a tax decoder ring.
This sure thing ring would sting right at the source,
Of our outmoded tax code that has strode off course.
Have you tried to pry that awry tax code of late?
It’s a crazy maze that takes days to navigate.
There are fleets of sheets that compete for chaos.
I’d say this, there’s more bliss in kissing an a**.
I’ll be damned buying logjams of programs galore,
Plus I weep since that heap’s not so cheap anymore.
There are mountains of accountants wanting your money,
But their inflated stated rates aren’t very funny.
Fed’s have misled and bled the profits from us fools.
It’s time to realign by denying old rules.
We’ll put uncommon common, back in common sense;
Saving dollars, in our jars, instead of just cents.
My decoder will reorder the disordered code,
To a simple flat tax that enacts a fair load.
There are seven levels of bedeviling rates
That ascend from ten percent to thirty eight.
Yet history shows, tax inflows to government
Do come to, since WWII, 18%.
If you earn a thousand or a thousand times that,
You pay the foreseen eighteen, and that will be that.
Then all payers will say they have skin in the game.
As the proportion per fortune will be the same.
The norm filling out the reformed form takes seconds
Just sign on the line that defines dues or refunds.
No loopholes to patrol or breaks for anyone.
It’s an equal sequel to our Constitution.
So to all who fall under rich, medium, and poor,
Will never be favored by favors anymore.
A flat tax will attack the elite’s status quo
Though not a bettor, it better, coz I’m low on dough.
Categories:
payers, political, visionary, power,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
You're my hero this month, Dianne.
You brought down your unfaithful man.
"Luv Guv," now your ex,
was wild about sex.
One staffer was his greatest fan.
A text meant for her went to you!
Months later you'd bid him adieu,
but first you'd make dang
sure hubby would hang.
Your quiet "campaign" would ensue.
Your audio tapes would assist
the Ethics Committee, whose fist
would come down hard--POW!
The truth is out now.
Tax payers know they have been dissed.
To cover his sins, "Luv Guv" used
their tax dollars. No one's amused!
He's charged; now he'll pay
in more than one way.
All know he was rightly accused.
May 1, 2017, entered in Brian Strand's May Day Premier contest: 25-line max,
any topic or form
Last month, Robert Bentley was forced to resign as Governor of Alabama--
after days of refusing to resign on the grounds he'd done nothing illegal,
the affair. When all of IT hit the fan--that he'd committed crimes by using tax payers' money for cover-up efforts--he had no choice but to step down.
Information (phone records, texts, and tapes) provided by his wife (then-wife) of fifty years led to his downfall. I do admire her. She kept her cool and did the right thing!
He's been charged with two misdemeanors and is to perform community service
in his area of expertise--dermatology. This fact was in the most recent article I read.
Categories:
payers, corruption, hero,
Form:
Limerick
Its time to think out loud America Think about no meals on wheels for the elderly Think about cancer patients being cut lose to die Think about our children's education being turned into a Lottery Its time to think out loud America Think about going to one war after another Think about our leaders need for greed
Think about who pays and who plays Its time to think out loud America Think about who bails out the banks Think about who picks up the tax break for big oil Think about who makes up the short fall for the tax dodgers Its time to think out loud America Think about the majority rule and how the millionaires in Congress Changed the rules Think about the tax payers after they pay for the wars and the rebuilding projects Think about social security being cut back And disabled vets pensions being cut back And ask yourself If you've had enough! And if you have...... It's time think out loud
Categories:
payers, education, introspection,
Form:
Blank verse
Im in prison for commiting a crime
taking things that were not mine,
i went out into the general public,
and stole things from a random subject.
I hold up my hands and take the blame,
my picture in paper to add to my shame.
I realise now i went about it all wrong,
ill explain it all within this song.
I should have worn a suit to work,
commited my crimes with a smirk.
For id have the right as a civil servent,
my squeaky clean image and smell of detergent.
Oh how id laugh at the publics expence,
the poor,the peasents,the holiday tents.
While back inside my gentlemens club,
caviar,chianti and tax payers grub.
Sit smoking cigars by an open fire,
swopping stories of our selfish desires.
"I gave five pounds to a charity today,
then claimed it back within my pay"
"I claimed straws for my childrens party,
then more money to dress them smartly"
"I claimed for a jag in case the other breaks down,
then for another to potter round town"
"Well when the wife fell down the stairs,
i claimed thousands just for the repairs!"
"I claimmed a thousand just for one shoe,
then another five thousand for a rent boy or two".
Raise the taxes!
Theres not enough,
public funds to buy our stuff.
My ducks need a house,
a one that floats!
And i need money to dredge my moat!
I need a taxi to take me ten yards!
To see my neighbour and play charades
Then baffle the public with a few choice words
and change the subject,declare war on the kerds
But i wouldn't be breaking any rules,
these are important political tools.
So the motto of the story is i should have listined in school!
Instead im sat here on this prison stool.........
Categories:
payers, funny, political, money,
Form:
Ballad
Cuatro Tetractys
Politics, circumvent, all common sense,
facsimiles,
non exist.
Raise tax
ax.
……………………………….................................
Thus,
we the
tax payers,
of common sense,
should circumvent, by our two cents, these gents!
………………………………...............................
Raise tax of wealthy, to the healthy max.
Lift up ax tax.
Stop grinding,
face of
poor!
……………………………….............................
Need us of common sense, say any more?
This be judgment,
of great whore.
They serve’
her!
(C. Rev. Ch, 17&18)KJV
For. Tetractys
In Honor of: Jared Pickett
Placed #2
Categories:
payers, allegory
Form:
Tetractys
Who is in the room?
Who owns the room?
When the GreenWoke Tribe
evaluate their strategic platform
for conquering RedUnWoke DiaTribes
what politically scientific purpose
and/or psychotherapeutic intent
for healthy inclusive democracy
[and not merely more wealthy
StraightWhiteMale corporate kleptocracy]
may wake up and win/win thrive?
Not so stuck on playing win/lose
monopoly games
preferred by monotheistic
anthrosupremacists,
privileged competitions
for recreating monocultural bullies
and sacrilegious
sanctimonious
green or red politically correct
dogmatic unwoke bosses
Judiciously proclaiming discrete
separate but equally undamaged
deceit
In resonant baritones
repeat unenlightened bass base
repeat disempowering soprano space
repeat replete
unwoken
still broken
repeat...
Who is behind the broom?
When GreenWoke evaluators
reconsider healthy
co-passionately wealthy
sweeping democratic invoked potential
Integrity to grow more
bilaterally healthy
bipartisan support
for woke up wealthy.
Woke
could send out evaluation forms
to every registered UnWoke
and this might explore half our hoped for story
of how empowerment
and enlightenment have grown/groaned
through last year's sentient
yet often somnolent
competitions in stuck down government.
But, growing trust
more than mistrust,
woke truth
more than unwoke half-truths
together show and tell,
as all UnWoke know too well,
bipartisan passions
co-invest tax-payers
and health therapeutic players
preferring to synergetically swell
rather than not tell
quietly fell apart
stuck in competitive squabbling
hell.
Categories:
payers, health, integrity, peace, political,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
Once turning 18 on my birthday i booked and took my driving test
and thankfully i passed 1st time
Because failing comes at a cost
of another test followed by more
lessons
So since that day when i was granted my driving license and deemed legal then to drive and own a car
And every day and year since for
this privilege i have had to pay
road tax, insurance, fuel duty,
m.o.t and updating my license
Likewise in order to own a t.v
on a yearly basis i was forced
to buy a t.v license for the privilege
And when i got a pet dog for
Christmas so to i was forced
to get a licence him and myself
as an owner as well
And when i wished to become
an organ donor again i had to
apply for a licence
The only thing no one ever seemed
to need a licence for was the most
valid of them all a licence to become
a parent or a father
So what value of licensing and taxes
I passed my driving test got my
license and pay all the taxes that
entails.
And yet i drive on roads so full
of potholes my car is more often
in the garage than working
And though i am forced to pay
my t.v license everything is a
repeat and has nothing on it
to watch
And why i have to annually pay
to license my pet dog only
they can justify but do not feel
the need to
Or why i need a licence and it
is not compulsory to become
an organ donor
But i suppose the reason for
no one needing a licence to
have children is
Maybe it's because they are indeed
the future licenses and tax payers in
waiting
Categories:
payers, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Part Two
Till October comes around with its bounty
The granary stuffed to the full
Lush fruits still pulpy and juicy
Ripen to a filthy rashes on skin brashness
The greenness of innocence
Turned to an over-ageing dun-yellow
Tell-tale sickening silliness
Soon detached the firm leaves will lie
Thick on the ground spurned and trampled
Earlier than the appointed hour
No matter
Recourse to pins and stitches
Breast uplifts
Straightened nosebridges
Dead Indian women’s chevelures
High straining buttressing stilts under heels
And thick sticky chemical tasting paint
Squeezed carcasses concentrated musk
Furs of bludgeoned seals and foxes
Haute couture paid through bankers’ loots
Or the easy secret service paid trysts
Through hard-earned tax payers’ sweat
In five-star deluxe hotels
Will lengthen the hour
Yet
In the boudoir
Yes
Pity the woman
She has but a score years
from teen to thirty-five
Before men take her
for a whore
Some women know this well
And cleverly work to use this sell
She’ll kick and thrust her lolly chops
from bum to cheek
In the later Heaven’s southwest sky
Fascination oozing from her loins
The sacred portals of propagation
Bruised all over under fire-dragon skies
Bloody a limb or two out of joint
and the gnawing ignominy
Of having relented in June
Sowing your wild oats
with the blessings of 13.7 billion years
The trained and disciplined chromosomes
Without the company on whom to work her wiles
and sap nourishing energy to continue
She’ll seek the riotousness of her ilk
and at autumn’s summit
At the height of smoldering flesh
When worms and germs
will make a merry feast
Of the beast in her meat
Let her fade away with her booty
Seek not to set right wrongs
You have only yourself to blame
For thinking easily entered gamboling
Will not be made out to be your aim
For weren’t you then the spirit consoling
© T. Wignesan, May 10, 1987 (rev. 2012, from the collection: Lessons of Change, 1987)
Categories:
payers, natural disasters, work, work,
Form:
Free verse
Tony Blair, Tony Blair, where have you been?
You’ve not been coming to London to visit the Queen
But you had seemed so close, meeting weekly when you were PM
You with your cheesy fake smile, waiting around
For her to put on the right crown
I wonder all those times you met if she bothered or care or know
Just what kind of bloke you always were
Despite Alistair Campbell’s keep clean ‘Teflon Tony’ plan
The Queen clearly wasn’t born yesterday
Or was she happy just to ride the wave of someone else’s ‘popularity rate’
Remember the New Year at the O2, Oh! Those heady days....
Sorry Tony, no more invites, now it all about Wills n’ Kate.....(and boy is that working well!!)
In popularity stakes you have been right ‘royally’ replaced
And the cause? I think it might now be the sight of your face, still free
One that for far too many, the world over, spoils every day
Did you think ‘Project Tony’ would work?
That you could f*ck us all up, make the world worse
That all we could do in response was curse?
While you rode off into the sunset with a SERIOUSLY richer future than you had before
Although I don’t think ‘Anthony’ that you were ever poor
Thinking yourself immune from prosecution for your actions before
Christ knows you spent enough of our tax payers’ money trying to making sure
And then went straight into a top job working for business, meddling in lands ravaged by war
Seems that’s what you were born for
To appear now and then featured in the press from afar
Making comment, sticking your nose into our country
Which you have made such a mess by favouring business
The rich now richer and the poor having so much less
Nothing was sacred to you, not even the NHS
Remember how it used to be before ‘Tony’s Targets’?
Did you ever envision a time when you would be personified with devils horns
And under threat of citizens arrest by those who think you guilty of war crimes
Although unlike some of the countries in which you now shimmy and slide
We would at least grant you a fair trail
(Please continue to part 2 of 2, thank you)
Categories:
payers, betrayal, political, satire,
Form:
Rhyme
Welcome, to my country.
Where we experienced load shedding.
No Wi-Fi, petrol sky high.
Politicians fighting battles to stay on top,
Less money for you to shop.
The poor has to beg and plea,
Daily on every corner and street.
While politicians’ lives a rich life,
From tax payers, they milk every dime.
We are a box of smarties,
While politicians sleeps with different parties.
During election they pick and choose,
Which color to use.
We are not the rainbow nation anymore,
Some parties’ mayhem caused it for sure.
Categories:
payers, conflict, confusion, corruption, political,
Form:
Rhyme
$1.2 million
the british empire couldn’t do it
the soviet union couldn’t do it &
now the great big policeman of the world
is ready to finally
retreat with their tail wagging between their legs
all the way home
with the tax payers bleeding
from inside the domestic walls
paying over a million dollars a year
for each soldier in Afghanistan.
imagine if that 1.2 million spent on one US soldier
could be used to propel one homeless individual
or one single mother
or one recovering addict in this country
out of their dire straits---
imagine how it could have changed their lives for the
better---
imagine how our dying public education system
could have profited
from just 1.2 million,
not to mention the lot of all those soldiers
who have been fighting a “war”
that they know can’t be won.
as mr. hope & change is no doubt lying &
his puppet, mr. panetta is speaking about the magic number
2013, as an election stepping stone for his commander in chief,
the fact remains that “enduring presence” is going to stretch well into
2014 & possibly longer,
given that once mr. hope & change is back in the saddle,
all bets are off (as if they were ever on).
1,735 american soldiers dead so far…
that’s 1,735 families who have sacrificed their kids
for the war machine &
1,735 american soldiers, means 2 billion dollars that could have been spent
on keeping americans at home alive,
rather than casting them out of their homes,
stealing away their jobs &
giving their children a shitty education.
Categories:
payers, life, education, change, hope,
Form:
Free verse
Bolts and nuts litter the highway
Rickety cars shedding their parts
Contractors' pride in Naija
More potholes to serve the roads
Roads built on holes and filth
Blind they become when they pass by
With extra cushion to absorb the shocks
Potholes and filth don't mean a thing
Paid to punish the poor
The cost of road use is often death
With effrontery, faces display
Gullies and rubbish strangulating traffic
Same points for shameful political portraits
Unkind faces forced on the people
Only contractors and their payers celebrate
Bandits, thieves and police celebrate
Using their property (road) as bait to rob
Potholes important for extortion and killing
People driven in confusion and pain
Permanent engagement in ignorance
Categories:
payers, life, engagement,
Form:
Free verse