Best Refunds Poems
Tax Time
File by April 15th,
avoid penalty and interest.
Declare all income from:
gainful employment
investments
state refunds
poker winnings
bingo winnings
jury duty
or even if you sell your old jalopy
to your cousin.
But your losses are not fully deductible,
must be reduced or prorated,
spanning future years.
There are limits, you know -
and those limits - well,
tax credits apply to others,
in every case . . .
you've exceeded the limit.
So dig deep . . . and pay up.
Through the schoolyard running as shadows grow long
and the late day sun feeling warm and strong
I'm loving this vision that I am seeing
of children at play and as one in being
They illustrate just how life ought to flow
with effortless laughter and faces aglow
One day they shall look back at these very times
and perhaps write them down while grasping for rhymes
I think I'm in need of someone to say
that in spite all of this everything is okay
But I feel like I'm trapped in some miserable cult
which summarizes perfectly being an adult
We've lost something, each of us, since we were small
If life were a pitcher, it threw us a curveball
As I watch all these children, so happy and free
in joyful oblivion to the world I see
It's clear now that it was too bitter a cup
to drink for the sake of being grownup
I traded my childhood for what I've become
the cruel reality has stricken me dumb
I never saw coming my innocence lost
Never knew of a line I unwittingly crossed
No refunds are given, no way to return
this one-way transaction continues to burn
If I could have seen a sign or a door
or a clear way to know what I was in for
Behind is where I would have chosen to stay
And right now I'd be one of these children at play
MysticMisfits™ Return Policy
(Cursed Edition)
--for when you regret your haunted impulse buys but the universe has other plans.
Please read carefully. Some conditions may apply to your soul.
1. No Refunds, Ever.
You bought it. It’s yours.
Even if it blinks at night.
Even if it follows you home.
Even if it whispers things you really don’t want to hear.
2. Exchanges Must Be Approved by a Sentient Mirror
To initiate a swap, present your item to the mirror in Aisle 7.
If your reflection nods and steps out of frame,
you may proceed.
If it sighs or bleeds, exchange denied.
3. Store Credit May Be Issued
…but only in dreams,
and only in the form of cryptic symbols
you’ll spend the next three lifetimes deciphering.
4. No Returns on the Following Items:
Cursed Lip Balm (LipHex™)
BoneTone™ Music Boxes that have learned your name
Anything that hisses when touched
Items marked “Oops”
Teacups that show you your childhood regrets
5. Return Portal Hours:
Open: Tuesdays, 3:33 AM to 3:34 AM
Closed: All other times, including holidays and emotional breakdowns.
6. By entering the shop, browsing this catalog, or thinking about a MysticMisfits™ product too hard, you agree to the following:
You may become part of the store inventory.
You may forget your own name, but remember ours.
You may not get what you wanted…
…but you will get what you deserved.
All sales final. Side effects include regret, possession, and occasional enlightenment.
More fine print coming soon... check back for policy updates and new questionable hires.
Thank you for shopping at MysticMisfits™.
We hope to see you again. Soon.
Into the sandbox
Come the flappers and the seekers
Like puppets on strings
Dancing to their own childish whims
The profiler watches
As they think they sing
The poison in their stories a piercing ring
Like chess moves, piece by piece
Slowly
From a blank slate
We see the wrong turns inflicted at childhood
Them thinking they are so misunderstood
Sandbox babies
Making sandstorms
Proclamations of their righteousness
Even as they commit both big and petty sins
Narcissistic egos purchasing mirrors at IKEA
So they can stare at their own opinions
Locking their minds in the open mirrored box
No refunds
Joke was on him
A lie can perpetuate with a blinding speed
Growing on the heels of shameful greed
If enough people believe a con-man's spiel
And blindly proceed to invest in a dubious deal.
He began quite small with his Ponzi scheme
Stomping ruthlessly on gullible citizen's dream
Pretending that he was investing in stock market
Delivering promised returns regularly on target.
Becoming famous as word of high returns spread
Billions he attracted as testimonials mislead,
Paying current clients from new-client receipts
Manipulating his records to hide his deceits.
Although his company was frequently audited
No one could detect the fraud being committed.
Suspicions ran high for returns were unbelievable,
Authorities were fooled by a fraud inconceivable.
Ponzi scheme thrives on constant new cash flow
As new funds meet outflows that continue to grow,
But it collapses in a hurry if new money stops
For clients demand refunds as the company flops.
A market-crash caused new money to dry out
Bringing to a quick end his fraudulent clout
As he confessed to a multibillion fraud scheme
When finally he realized that the joke was on him.
Investors big and small were caught by surprise
Lives that were ruined continue to agonize.
Soon he was arrested for his long tenure of crime
And sentenced to prison for his remaining lifetime.
His son committed suicide overcome by veracity
As his wife deflects shame in solitude of tenacity.
While he sits in jail for a crime of this century
Grievous losses torment lives due to his treachery.
A fraud only propagates till its ultimate demise
For truth always conquers defeating all lies.
November 26, 2017
I started a joke
Sponsor: Maria Williams
First Place
Note: This Ponzi scheme was uncovered after the 2008 market crash. Though the fraudster never invested in the market, new money flow stopped because investors were spooked by the market decline and ensuing recession. He confessed when he couldn't make a multi-billion payment due in 2008. He was sentenced to 150 years in jail. One of his sons committed suicide, the other son died. His brother was also sentenced to jail--all worked for the firm.
They are like night and day
Always there,
Even when not seen, I know they’ll be here
Treat me like a brother, oh how much they care
How many are they?
Who do stick around when we try and fail?
To help us through the day
Looking beyond the veil
And not shun us, to betray or turn their back in the face of dismay
What can I say? God bless and a million thanks!
I feel like I owe them a hundred favors
But they say that they owe me a hundred favors instead
Often when the rainy days come
To them I run as I would to nine one, one.
When I have nothing but problems and empty pockets
Unlike some, they don’t cough up
Nor act like there are crocodiles in their pockets
Again I say thanks, but even more kind is the reply I get
“It’s nothing but a mere drop in the bucket”
For real, my heart gets filled with joy
Coz honestly it was more than just a mere drop
My great homey told me
Real friends don’t count favors
But even if I tried I’d fail, I couldn’t keep count
Which doesn’t mean I forgot
Though they did for me and forgot about it
Expecting no rewards, no refunds
Simply expressing brotherly love
A reason valid enough for me to value our friendship beyond any price
So we roll together, don’t be surprised
We get along like we’re from the same tribe,
Sharing the same blood, creatures of the same God
With or without, we don’t judge
Like a tennis ball against the wall;
In two ways we let the love bounce
I know one who stood for me to take a punch
Exceedingly grateful for every bit of love
Because little is much and much is just little multiplied
Never feel like you haven’t done enough
Because to me every little bit counts
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.
My love is non negotiable
It comes as is
There is no bartering or discount
It is comes whole ,no damaged bits
There are no returns or refunds
Once it’s yours….you keep
So take very good care of it
My love does not come cheap
It’s not a short term item
To treat with complacency
It’s a prize possession
With a lifetime guarantee!
Once you have my love
It is yours forevermore
It will never be anothers
Or for sale in another store!!
Long, slim, chocolate, and divine
Most men, and even some women pine... feign over this birthday suit of mine
Smooth layers with no assistance from oil of olay
I sport my suit proudly as if everyday were my birthday
My scars add character and tell my story
My birthday suit expresses my battles and my glories
And we all know that when chocolate gets too hot, it melts
And I like chocolate, so I admit that sometimes I do like to taste myself
I just can't seem to help it
Because my birthday suit always demands another helping
But there are many who cannot handle the sweetness
They get a little sugar in their system and my suit becomes their weakness
For those that cannot handle, I strongly suggest a sugarless diet
Because once you've taken a bite, you'll forever be tempted to try it
You may even be tempted to buy it
Just remember, No returns, refunds, and no exchanges
And bout time I'm finished with you, this birthday suit will surely be famous!!
No refund on love,
My mother have told me,
there is one way,
to a man,s heart,
a good meal,
desert,
and glass of wine,
So, I went to the store,
to get three ingredient,
bacon,cheese,apple
and bottle of red wine,
Dinner,
candelas,
wine,
was ready,
so as I
wearing red, sexy dress,
but you,
you....
you didn't come,
Next day I went to the same store,
to get refund on love,
Then a store manager have told me ;
Mam,
no refunds on love,
At Camden Yards in Baltimore,
The Orioles will play,
The White Sox from Chicago
Their opponents for today.
But players will not hear the cheers
Of all their rooting fans.
For ticket holders, refunds wait,
A crimp put in their plans.
‘Cause Baltimore’s in riot mode
And so the call was made
To ban the fans but for the teams,
Their game won’t be delayed.
They’ll bat and run and steal and slide
To silent empty seats,
With no one there to cheer or boo
Or care which team defeats.
This situation’s a surprise
And many just don’t buy it,
But emptiness is better than
A predetermined riot.
Follow Me
The Pitch
Live in my circle of simplicity,
Where loyalty plays no tricks.
A world that runs in parallel,
Without prejudice, or politics.
No longer capable of crime,
Dishonesty, just doesn’t exist.
Disciples are tolerant and caring,
A new life on Earth, no twist.
We have no need of Police Force,
Magistrates, Solicitor’s or Judge.
Follow the code in my good book,
No greed, no malice, no grudge.
Everyone will live to Ninety-Nine,
Then happily fall over the edge.
This is a promise I keep for you,
For Piety, this is my pledge.
Perfect people, in a perfect world,
That’s how it was meant to be.
So, sign your consent, now today,
Then worship and follow me.
Follow me
Clinching the deal
One Thousand pounds, is all I ask,
A life-time’s dedication, is my offer.
Here is a T-Shirt, just £12.99,
Bearing legend, I submit and proffer.
Yes, you can opt out at any time,
For a small administration charge.
No refunds due, read the small print,
As profits are small, overheads large.
Devotion doesn’t come cheap,
I have associates, with fat expenses.
Thank you for joining the team,
Let’s start, by weakening defences.
Sign up to my premium deal,
Just an extra ten pounds per week.
You will receive my free podcast,
Every time I sermon and speak.
Don’t listen to cynics and doubters,
Your fees, really do help good causes.
Only we alone, have been chosen,
Read section 6b of my clauses.
Go out there my friend and recruit,
Deliver my word with precision.
The more you put in, you’ll get out,
With a healthy, bonus or commission.
I’m opening a factory,
Recruitment starts today,
I’ll describe you the Person Spec.
Send me your resumee.
You have to have experience,
Of doing magic tricks,
And no exaggeration,
How you use your magic sticks,
For ours is a wand factory,
With each a special touch,
They’ll all work very well,
But don’t rely on them too much.
The manufacture’s easy bit,
The black with a white trim,
But putting magic into them’s
Not just done on a whim.
You have to have some power,
You can use and then pass on,
Cos we don’t offer refunds,
From the factory once they’re gone.
Each power is acceptable,
Working here, you’ll get fond,
You’ll make some lives get better,
As you make each magic wand.
And if they are misused at all,
Then each one we’ll retrieve,
And we will only employ those,
Who in them do believe!
Complete your application form,
Try hard to impress me,
You can use David Blaine or Merlin,
As your referee!
There is one stipulation,
That the wands can’t be used for,
They can’t be used for COVID,
Because Trump would claim the cure!
The Day After:
The most anticipated day of the year will soon come and quickly depart. But the season will remain very much alive as the fire slowly simmers.
The Day After:
Happy people will cherish, ride in, or wear their lovely gifts.
It’s a quiet and relaxing ‘kick back’ kind of day for many.
The DayAfter: Others will be back at the malls with returns looking for refunds.
But then there are those in ‘hot pursuit’ of after Christmas sales.
The Day After:
Millions will sleep in with a day off because Christmas came on a Sunday. A well-deserved break will be very much what the doctor orders.
The Day After:
For those who ate and drank more than moderation dictated, they will be no longer smiling and singing; but their heads will be aching and spinning.
The Day After:
In just a few days many will be ready to drink up and party into the new year. But may the spirit of Christmas reign and rule throughout the season.
The Day After:
I’m sorry. I do not mean to spoil the party. But unfortunately, there will be grief for some who lose a loved one in a tragic accident from a drunken driver.
The Day After:
Historical reality is now begging and pleading for sobriety, because
The Day After Christmas will not be a pretty one for many dear ones.
12202016 PS Contest, The Day After Christmas, Anthony Clausen.
The 80's Became The Present Again
On the coast of Oahu
here, I was on a beach bus,
circling a sweet picture
in my mind,
white sands, blue seas, palms,
rolling all along
in a candy store.
It was a beautiful beach setting,
a beautiful scenic bus ride ...
how can it get any better?
Three college aged girls
wearing the tiniest bikinis
get on.
Satin and those tan lines
stretching my imagination.
Nirvana.
The candy store sales
hit the roof.
The beach bus crooned.
Seated next to me
was an old man,
a few years older than me,
who suddenly became
young again.
His eyes were as conspicuous
as can be,
eyeing the sweets,
especially the brunette
with the black bottom,
who
at first was naive
of giving old dogs a bone.
The old man kept looking like
a kid in a candy store.
He had that open mouth look.
His eyes sparkled.
I did, too.
I was close behind.
My eyes taking sideward
glances through the cracks
of my fingers
seeing the 80's again.
By now the girls are on to us.
No doubt feeling old mens eyes
taking liberties,
poking fantasies,
our eyes and heart palpations
creeping along their skin.
In a fleeting moment
the balloon fizzled.
Gees.
The joke is on us.
Black bottom and her two friends
cover themselves with towels.
There's a hush.
Are those hooves I hear?
Are patrons running back
to the candy store
seeking refunds,
led by the two old men.
They did.
Did the bus lose it's croon?
It did.
There was dryness in my throat
and a fire hydrant wanting to gush loose
in my dreams.
And out of humanity
we look over at the girls,
once again,
collectively,
maybe with repentance
in our eyes this time.
They shrugged,
they smiled,
adding backpacks on top
of their towels.
No.
Yes.
I look out the window.
The 80's became the present again.
connie pachecho
8/21/17