Long Alimony Poems

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Family Remembers, Part I

I-Robby

Robby had been married going on eight years,
2hen his Marie demanded a divorce,
whe had been planning, lawyering up,
and instantly dragged it into the court.

Poor Robby had not seen it coming,
he thought things had been going quite well,
he could barely deal with loosing his love,
much less navigating Family Court hell.

Worst still Marie had cleaned out their accounts,
so he had to borrow from his parents,
just to afford a junior lawyer,
in truth, Robby was unable to bear it.

Being separated from his two boys,
being along with no partner if life…
What could he have done to ever have earned
the enmity of his once loving wife?

The proceedings, they just kept dragging on,
and Robby faced insurmountable bills,
then one day Marie claimed that he’d hit her,
that his temper was always set to kill?!

Robby’s family gawked in disbelief,
their boy never even been in a fight,
they all tried to say the Marie had lied,
but she played the judge’s sympathies right.

Men don’t fare well in Family Courts,
in the end Rob lost near sixty percent,
add the that alimony, child support,
and no custody of his two children.

The young men felt his world crashing on down,
but the worst of it was yet to come,
Marie’s claims made their way up to his boss,
and within weeks, Rob’s position was gone.

When he told the judge he was out of work,
and his payments would have to be changed,
she said,”I’ll have to investigate this,
many dead-beats go to lengths to not pay.”

That dragged on for several long months,
and Robby was already long broke,
one morning a cop waited on his front door,
and with a sneer, glared at Robby and spoke:

“We have got a complaint that you have not
paid up on this month’s child support.
A warrant has been issued for your arrest,
I really hate dealing with your sort!”

He tried to explain his words with the judge,
but the officer really didn’t care,
dragged into court, Rob found the same judge,
glowering down at him from her chair.

“Your wife needs those payments to survive,
nut you seem to think this is a joke,
so you’re going to spend a week in jail,
and learn an important lesson, I hope.”

As to the judge’s biased nature,
Robby no longer had any doubts,
and none there knew that when he went away,
never more would he ever come out…

CONTINUES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative


Betryayed

i'd just been declared surplus to requirements by my boss
with bloodshot eyes i plodded home completely at a loss
oblivious of my ex-secretary's commiserations
mum's late stage cancer portended impending tribulation
what bruised my heart was my boss' betrayal
his reward for my being unflinchingly loyal
my mind raced to dad's Dane gun, and a well knotted noose, and lethal pills
just one good hot and my sorrows will cease
somehow the thought of my fiancé filled my mind
she was of heaven-so gentle and kind
i'll stay for her. oh such a dear!
i whistled generously, passers by stare
                                                                                                                                              
the angelic fiancé turned out a fiendish spouse
she wouldn't cook, she wouldn't work or even clean the house
my income vanished as it came and it was all her effort
she also nagged whenever i offered mum support
but it was her promiscuous lifestyle that often drove me senseless
young, old, rich and poor; she was just so shameless
my limit was reached the day i caught her with my erstwhile boss
homicide was the easier bet but i settled for divorce
to my utmost dismay, the judge added the burden of alimony
to the same unfaithful villain who had wasted my money
worse still outside the courtroom she gave a parting shot
"you were definitely the worst of the lot
even the old judge was much better than you
as was the vicar, the postman and your valet too"
 
i regained consciousness in the emergency room of a hospital
where i got to learn that my condition had been fatal
somehow, i had consumed some capsules of arsenic
i was just so lucky to have been found by Nick
with tears streaming down my face
i told the doctor all about Grace
for what seemed like ages, he stared blandly at me
then with lips quivering, he said these words to me
“this morning my wife and children were slain by a suicide bomber
i was all set for Israel when you were brought in coma
my duty is to save lives, so i couldn't let you waste yours
life may be mean to us but someone else has it worse
adversities are like batons, you must get them to win a relay race
sorry you just got divorced but therein lies your ace
being alive gives you the chance to get it right again
your ex-wife's loss will be another maiden's gain”
Form: Rhyme

He Was Going Somewhere, Part Ii

...Oliver had saved up the cash
to buy into his employer’s franchise,
bought his own store, aggressively courted
every rancher in the countryside.

Soon enough the cash flow was well in the black,
so Oliver and the bartender wed,
bought their own house and were soon expecting,
he cared nothing for what the people said.

Jack, still drinking, played the Hollywood scene,
was a fixture of the wild nightlife,
soon he was in the tabloids again
when he knocked up a girl he knew one night.

He managed to keep working in film,
supporting roles were the best he could get,
with alimony and child support
he found himself slipping into the red.

When he crashed his car into his front door
he was quickly shuffled off to rehab,
in what would be the first trip of many,
the addiction had a grip on him bad.

But still he managed to get some work,
and when folks saw his face on the air,
they’d look at Oliver, mumbling how,
“That brother never went anywhere.”

Now Hollywood is a hot-bed of rumors,
and a disturbing percentage are true,
soon tales spread of Jack’s early acting days,
and all the things a new actor has to do.

Rumors of giving favors to producers,
insinuations of oral sex,
some said that was why her drank so damn much,
and why relationships left him vexed.

Whatever the case, on the internet,
the rumors became an ongoing meme,
his reputation thrown in the toilet
by GIFs and infographics obscene.

Oliver, back in fair Nebraska,
really had no reason to complain,
he had three kids and sold big equipment
to half the ranchers on the Sand Hills range.

Nobody was making memes out of him,
no reporters were snooping through his trash,
tabloids were not undermining his marriage,
and he was making more than enough cash.

He had six stores and a seventh coming,
and a hundred acres tied to his home,
a life or both family and friends sincere,
the general public did leave him alone.

The only thing that could worry Oliver
was what would happen to his brother Jack?
How many stars had walked down that same road,
and how many of them had never come back?

Though Jack’s state would weight hard on his mind,
and hear feared to see him drowning in despair,
Oliver couldn’t help but laugh at the folk
who thought it was he who was going nowhere.
Form: Narrative

Ride the Western Winds, Part I

When Robert was a small child
he watched those brave cowboys
riding across the TV screen,
their exploits he enjoyed.
The horses, guns, and shinny stars,
the ever stylin’ hat…
It all spoke to Bob way deep down,
he wanted to try that.
He wanted to be a cowboy,
the thought just made him grin,
Bob figured that when he was big
he could ride the western winds.

But when informed his parents
they smiled so sadly,
the wild west was now long gone,
an impossible dream.
Bob’s sister would just laugh at him,
as she painted her nails,
posted about her ‘redneck bro,’
how he was made of fail.
Bob couldn’t help but feel something
slowly dying within,
it seemed that there would be no chance
to ride the western winds.

And when he grew he went and did
the things folks expected.
He went to school, got a degree,
a job to keep him fed.
But he still felt something missing,
and more than once he thought
of running out west to a ranch,
that kind of job he sought.
But before he could his girlfriend
conceived a kid with him,
they were married and settled down,
no time for western winds.

Bob made good money at his job,
kept the numbers in check
for big companies on the move,
made sure the books were set.
He wanted to vacation at
a dude ranch way out west,
but when he told his wife this thought
she balked at his request.
She wanted a tropical beach,
a place to show some skin,
she’d rather lay out in the sun
then ride the western winds.

It was the same tale every year,
she cared not for his likes,
and used him as an A.T.M,,
he grew to hate his life.
He suspected her of cheating,
and she did not deny,
divorced him after seven years,
and the judge took her side.
Bob grumbled, but saw the freedom
he’d get form her great sin,
at least now he would get the chance
to go ride western winds.

But then came the alimony,
and lord it was a lot,
add into that child support
and Bob was left to rot.
He barely got to see his kid,
she wouldn’t keep the terms,
and the court didn’t seem to care
how this loss made him yearn.
He had to pay for a child
she taught to hate his kin,
and had not money for such dreams
as riding western winds...

CONCLUDES IN PART II.

The Diadem of the Land

A diadem of sovereignty, a symbol of royalty
made up of Unique jewel of valley surrounded by the rarest gold of Mountains 
 Waited for it's rightful place to dwell with all its treasures and troubles
After an indefinite hunt for a secular and Democrat souls
Chosen the queen of peninsula and set its heart on hers
The diadem added beauty to the queen and to the land it added fortunes
The charm it holds and the raving beauty it has grabbed the eyes of countries and kingdoms 
As it's glory spread beyond the boundaries
The chances of being purloined reached the skies
The queen did the best to keep it fortified and unimpaired

As the time goes by
 the diadem was passed through generations 
And it was Crowned on the peninsular queen's multitudinous heirs 
The diadem never deprived it's charm and it's serendipity even the ages have gone
Numerous eyes surrounded the diadem 
and countless hearts fancied to have one
It often got heisted and restored, but never dwelt on the heads of the others
As the time passes on ,
Somewhere down the line the glory of diadem among the queens was faded
There came a day that no one didn't thought of
A new queen was Crowned with unhackneyed hope
Considered the crown as archaic and obsolete
Made her own new crown and replaced the relic of bygone age
Left the diadem open and wide with no intrigue and stow 
As it shines in the dark and reflects in the light
Caught everyone eyes while they passed by
And it got stolen and lost,
The disappeared crown created the despair 
As the Queen came to know the diadem was lost 
And announced alimony to those who find the crown
News spread all Over the kingdom
But it raised a rift between two mobs
As One found it's precious jewel 
And another it's band made of precious gold
without the other doesn't form the complete crown
One who had the jewel wants the gold
The others Denied of giving it
Started with denial and protest
Continued with deaths and destruction
Left the city with burnt and ashes
Land of jewel turned into land of blood
Nothing was done to stop this ardent havoc, 
How can the problem can be solved?
Who is responsible for all this ??
Isn't the queen who should be sober??
© Grace Mura  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Didactic


Premium Member What You Can'T Break

You can take my house

you can take my truck

you can take my money

I don't give a f***

but you can't take 

what you can't break

you can't touch my heart

or the memories, anniversaries,

birthdays, holidays, or talks in the dark

you can't touch my heart



you can take my pension

take your alimony

take all you can get

just leave me lonely

I'll always be free

something in me 

you could never hold

a rambling, restless

wandering soul

so you got the best 

I had to give

now all I wanna do

is live



we're still friends

until the end

we'll help our kids

raise our grand-kids

we'll toast the life

we had together

but we both know

it was time to go

let the eight ball roll


i'll be back again

I don't know when

birthdays, holidays, anniversaries

but until then

I'll be under the moon

gazing up at the stars

serenading the night

on an old guitar

free as a bird

with a song in my heart

the sun on my shoulder

one day dumber and one day older

with nothing but nothing

before me

and nothing but you

behind me

not gone, not forgotten

just far away as a balloon can fly

that's all I wanna be

'til the day I die

so take my house

take my truck

take my money

I don't give a f___

you can't take

what you can't break

you can't hold

this wandering soul

only the wind knows

where I'll go

I'm wild and free

like I want to be

don't care what it cost

for me to be lost

just gotta go

wherever I roam

like the buffalo

it's all my home

and in the end

I'd love you again

but I'm all air

and you're all ground

your love held me there

kept me far enough down

to have a family

raise five beautiful kids

and when they were gone

you did what you did

let go of your balloon on a string

watched it sail away

until you couldn't see

does it still love you

it always will

even as it disappears

over the hill

so take my house

take me truck

take my money

I don't give a f___

you could take 

and you could break

all of me

I'd still be free
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member How To Get a Dame

The time has come to inform my boy
    and pass along the flame.
The secret of a mystery solved 
    on how to get a dame.
'Your looks are key as they set the tone 
    if you intend to flirt.
Chicks will sigh and their knees grow weak 
    when in your muscle shirt.

Inhibitions gone, they may faint 
    when showing off your guns.
Give them room as they may fall 
    when flexing both your buns.
There are many ways to achieve the goal 
    and meet the fairer sex.
One sure way that never fails... 
    is to talk about you Ex.

Go on and on how you love her still 
    and extol your broken heart.
Of good times past, of great things done, 
    she was a work of art.
Peak her interest and speak of the virtue 
    of the life you led.
But most of all... her interests lie 
    in how she was in bed.

Another way is to take her places 
    you've never been before.
Like galleries, the opera 
    and the dentist you abhor.
You could try cooking if money's tight 
    when strapped by alimony.
What woman living? Would not be pleased 
    with a cold plate of beefaroni.

Still not enough and she's unconvinced 
    that you might be the guy.
When she turns to flee, the stage is set 
    and the time has come to lie.
You tell her now of things you've done 
    as an Alpha Male.
Of flying jets and curing cancer 
    but not your time in jail.

If you're shy, just hide that fact 
    and avoid acting too polite.
Just drink too much as most chicks dig
    a drunk man in a fight.
She will start to swoon as her eyes grow big, 
    it's time you played your hand.
The simple fact remains... you forgot to say
    that you're a singer in a band.

These are time honored ways by men 
    who know... of things a little shady.
But the results have merit and your chances good 
    of picking up a lady.'
My boy takes a pause as he begins to say,
     'I think you should atone.
This may explain why to this day, 
    you're still living all alone.'

                    The End

*For those interested. I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day.
Form: Rhyme

Eating With Bigfoot

I tapped into my messages; the gas 
company wanted a piece of me, and 
my ex wanted to know when the 
month’s alimony  would be arriving.

But it was the last message which 
caught my attention the most; Big Foot, 
the wrestler, wanted to meet me for 
lunch the following day, at The Big Burger,
on east 14th street at noon.

Who was I to turn him down? A 50 caliber 
showman with a WWA win list as long as 
your arm, and a five million dollar contract, 
with a major west coast TV station.

I cleared my appointments for late morning 
and early afternoon, the  following day, and 
laid out my jeans and WWA T-shirt and a couple 
of indigestion tabs, with BF’s appetite in mind.

It was about 11.45am, when I drove up to the 
Big Burger’s orange and purple frontage and 
past the helium-filled, giant airborne, polythene 
burger, floating forty feet up in the clear blue, 
summer sky.

The place was quiet, a few truckers and an old 
couple, talking and munching their burgers and 
fries, off their plastic, melamine plates.

The air conditioning was welcome; the sweat 
slowly froze, then disappeared from the middle 
of my chest: but it was a news report which 
caught my attention, on the overhead TV.

“Bigfoot announces retirement and unveils plan 
to open shelter for bigfoot families and abused 
bigfoot wives in Alaskan wilderness.”

Then the main door swung open and he walked in with 
the biggest grin I had ever seen, and approached my table, 
all seven feet of him,  took my hand and shook it.
”Well kid, it’s all go from here,” he said, thumbing at the TV.
“I’m giving you across the board publishing and screen writing rights. 
I‘ve never forgotten how you helped me, get where I am today,
partner.”

I closed my eyes and mumbled inside, “Thank you God.” And we ate 
our burgers, he ate five, and spent the next two hours making plans for,

             “The Return of Bigfoot to the Wild”

CONDEMNED TO THIS DAILY GRIND

One more day on this cursed planet,
One less day in this infernal nightmare.
I chase after fleeting vanities,
Like an addict searching for a joy locked inside me.
I will spend yet another entire day behind a desk,
Counting the hours and the days for a salary
That prevents me from fulfilling my fantasies.
I will keep my eyes fixed on a computer screen,
Like a zombie bound to misery.
A vile coffee, a few cigarettes,
A sandwich as a calorie bomb,
And an energy drink to endure this torment.
Forced to accept this slavery
So as not to sink into poverty.
After this destructive routine,
I will once again write ramblings
To rid myself of the blandness of this dreary daily life.
I have some bills and alimony to pay.
The Parisian sky is as gray as the rats of the Trocadéro.
Scenes of horror repeat endlessly,
The same speeches, the same wars, the same victims.
They say the Earth is warming,
But the hearts of humans are growing cold.
I am always in a foul mood,
Everything disgusts me in this chaotic dimension.
But I still lack the courage to shorten
This miserable life I received for free.
I am condemned to sit front row at my own decay.
My vigor abandons me day after day.
I am on the train that takes me to the furnaces of hell.
I want to destroy everything, like those bloodthirsty tyrants.
I never had time to savor beauty or love.
Anger has spiced up the apocalyptic reality of my existence.
I am a paranoid allergic to human hypocrisy.
I have a sophisticated detector for treacherous souls.
I can no longer cry or laugh, I am simply angry.
My conscience is a minefield
Marked by convictions.
Life has never offered me roses,
Only thorns.
I crave darkness, stillness, and quiet.
I have never dreamed,
I simply do what I dislike
Since my arrival in this deathly dimension.
I tolerate neither betrayal,
Nor deceit, nor duplicity.
I will never have a pet,
I prefer the serenity of my solitude.

Modern Consternations of Lament

Modern Consternations of Lament

Contradictions and formulations of thought that bridge the edges of time 
Benedictions and combinations that evolve into the refined
Jurisdictions and innovations that are galvanised by crime
Crucifixions in the courtyards of those who draw the cursed lines


A damsel in distress crying for all the loss that cannot be expressed
A shadow of progress dying while the youth look unimpressed
A moment of redress that’s logic-defying as it leaves me thinking I’m depressed
An ancient cultural head dress with colours electrifying a people that cannot be suppressed 

Curious children at the gates of a billionaire peering out among the harems door
Spurious wills then hate the artist lying dead upon the floor 
Furious villains berate the terrifying dread then perpetuate the horrors but what for?
Injurious killers negate the life defying leads that impact as they infiltrate the peace of the broken and poor 

Acrimonious alimony for the wife and children while the fathers left to bleed 
Sanctimonious sermons in the alley and stadiums of evangelical greed 
Ceremonious services in the galleys of a political theorist bought down to his academic knees 
Non-harmonious melodies causing sonic felony’s as they try to control what you see 

Commodification of the spiritual as they sell toxic positivity 
Solidification of the chemical as they try to buy more than just market productivity
Transfiguration of the polemical as the mood broods for civility 
Modification of the heretical as we kneel down before the Nativity 

Fastidious retention of a fact to prove a point that needs verification
Insidious inventions that detract from the joint venture of innovation 
Mysterious momentum of a contract the won’t endure the effusive commendation 
Odysseus intentions redact as the mention of epics make me cry out in lamentation 

Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme

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