Long Bills Poems
Long Bills Poems. Below are the most popular long Bills by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bills poems by poem length and keyword.
On an as is where is basis, we fell—
down the elevator shaft of the day,
into the buzz of a fluorescent hum, the smell
of reheated takeout in cracked Styrofoam trays.
The descent began when the train doors jammed,
and I was stuck staring at my own reflection—
the stale grime of the carriage, the paper ads,
my face mirrored against the strangers, expressionless.
I finally made it home, my shoes untied,
the hallway dim, someone’s dog barking through thin walls.
The key caught in the lock, metal snagged on silence—
inside, a burnt-out bulb flickered above the sink.
Bills were piled high, half-shoved in a drawer,
an eviction notice crumpled at the edges,
yesterday's dishes stacked like monuments of failure,
and in the fridge—two eggs, a leftover apology.
Then I saw it: a post-it, bright yellow,
crookedly taped above the empty fruit bowl.
A scribbled heart, in a child’s writing, "You're the best,"
the 's' in 'best' drawn backward, rushed—
a small love, pressed into a square of paper.
That night, I folded laundry in silence,
shirt by shirt, sock by unmatched sock,
finding something steady in the rhythm—
the sound of breathing is as good as sleep
when sleep is nowhere near.
I climbed into that feeling, inch by inch,
with each minute stretched, each dollar exchanged
for time, each deep breath drawn. The city
buzzed outside, the cars skating down wet streets,
but here, it was the small clicks of our life—
turning off the TV, the snap of clean sheets,
the drip of the bathroom faucet needing fixing.
I knew it was enough—this climb, this small scaffold
we built to hold us up.
Now I stand, the city alive beneath my window,
swapping scar tissue out for the heat of the moment,
for the feat of staying—my laughter penetrating
the cracks in the walls—a song that makes each broken
piece of the ascent worth saving.
In Winter snow I fell and broke my nose
Skied down a mountain trail and hit a tree
Comatose holidays: this really blows!
I'll hibernate until I have to pee
Snow melted. Flowers bloomed. Robins sang
I missed all of Spring while lying in bed
My mind trapped in a world of ying and yang
Feeling like a mummy, gauze 'round my head
I slept through one season. It's time to wake
Summer is a great time to have some fun
I'd been dreaming of skiing on the lake,
where I won't crash into trees on my run
Near Summer's end I was up for leisure
'Til I saw the medical bills Seizure!
August 3, 2017
A Funny Sonnet How Your Winter Turned Into Summer
Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brenda Chiri
In a cupboard, silent skeletons sleep
Where darkness holds its secrets, buried deep,
Their shape unseen, yet ever close at hand,
That any time may burst across the land.
A quiet hum, a stillness in the air,
A spectral chill, that the winds can lay bare,
But carried through wings of time, strong and true,
Mysteries that very few ever knew.
The sands of time may slowly slip away,
But the secrets stand still, through passing days,
A stark riddle, etched in darkness of night
Of journeys made, from dawn to fading light.
No whispered word, no sigh of pain or glee,
Just jumbled echoes, indistinct and free,
A testament of tall bills begotten,
Beneath the gaze of the unblinking sun.
The hollow gaze, where once bright eyes did gleam,
Now holds the fragments of a waking dream,
The cupboard`s key declared lost, with no sign,
A silent story, sincerely sublime.
The rhythm of the mind, a reflective sound,
No longer works, where wizard can be found.
Yet life's own pulse, in memory remains,
Through flowing currents, in the subtle grains.
A stoic stance before the coming storm,
A dead silence, to keep the spirit warm,
For though the surprises stink over time
Their essence rests hidden, without a chime.
At long last the cat gets out of the bag
With the dwelling changing under new flag,
Bursting open of the cupboard with force,
Revealing tons of debt burden at source.
One cannot but gaze at the skeletons
As the damage left after a cyclone
And thereafter think of ways to redress
The legated dwelling left in distress.
The simple truth is a lovely facade
May hide an interior that is flawed
And one need to think deep and wide to scan
The space before the future one can plan.
CLOUD DWELLING
I choose to dwell among
sailing clouds for a while
here fleshlessness is style
silver state of bliss I soak
to return is to freshly cloak
no lungs or liver have I here
don’t sleep weep or sweep
sing rapturously without song
laugh raucously all day long
revel in endless coy joy
free from poison fumes
iPhones or laundry dunes
dancing on air without hair
meditate in floating temples
without belly or fat dimples
here I weave in and out
touch fingertips of Beloved
fluffy vapour has me covered
forward leap or backward flip
celebration calls with blip
Flower of Life sweet I eat
a point of no return bleat
fortune specks appear
like silver sequins dear
in etheric dew no fear
rain shine forms changing
quenching dry Earth bathing
watch her birth red flowers
as naked I ride long hours
wild waves in cloudy sky
here I am t i m e l e s s
pay no bills no negations
negotiations or pretensions
nor empty dramatic speeches
just floating creamy peaches
mythical magical misty
know out of body fisty
before descent to finish
cold black coffee watching
version of self super arching !
The alarm blasts me awake
From a fitful night’s sleep,
Another day of bills to pay
And promises to keep.
Dropping Patanol in my eyes
As I attempt to slowly rise,
Feeling disparate deja vus
As my morning coffee brews.
And I make a mental note
To try and get more sleep
Then just as quickly forget
As I leave the room to eat.
Sitting at the breakfast table
Where I find that I am able,
To spend a few, quick minutes,
And rummage through the obits.
Is there someone I know?
And then right before I go,
Count how many are my age
Before I put down the page.
And I make a mental note
To eat less and workout more
Then just as quickly forget
As I rush out the door.
I arrive at my job.
Turn my office doorknob,
Begin my daily routine
Taking breaks in between.
And my boss storms in mad
Says “You did something bad!”
And I make a mental note
To do better next time
Then just as quickly forget
When I leave at closing time.
Returning home feeling famished
I notice some damage
To the roof and the doors
And the siding and floors.
And the gutters are hanging
And the shutters are banging.
And I make a mental note
To make time for repairs.
Then just as quickly forget
As I climb the porch stairs.
I finally make it inside
And after eating decide
To relax in the den
Before my favorite show begins
Then I notice God’s Word
On the table undisturbed.
And I make a mental note
To take time to read God’s Word. . .
Hey, wait! I can do this now!
So, I open up God’s Word
“faith follows the thing heard”
And I understand the hope
That allows us all to cope
And I make a mental note
To read, meditate and pray.
The Holy Bible gives us courage
So we can face another day!
You crushed my heart then walked away
I broke down, begging you to stay
My eyes were filled with bitter tears
That you’d leave after all these years
You said our love had had its day
I’ve got bills that I have to pay
Gifts to buy for our son’s birthday
How will I cope, I have such fears
You crushed my heart
Not another roll in the hay …
My best friend Sue got in the way
She stole your heart so it appears
I pray one day my sadness clears
My whole life is in disarray
You crushed my heart
Contest Best Rondeau Poem Sponsored by Laura Loo
Checked with How many syllables
Rondeau Rhyme Scheme: AABBA-AABC-AABBAC
07~10~16
The morning alarm is a sharp, sudden crack,
And the weight of the world settles right on your back.
The coffee is cold and the traffic is still,
And you’re climbing a mountain that felt like a hill.
The deadlines are breathing right down on your neck,
And the plans that you made are a beautiful wreck.
It’s easy to focus on what’s gone awry,
Watching the gray as it swallows the sky.
But life isn’t found in the absence of rain,
Or the clearing of schedules and ending of pain.
It’s found in the steam from a chipped ceramic cup,
And the stubborn resolve that keeps looking up.
It’s the song on the radio, loud and off-key,
That sets a small part of your spirit quite free.
It’s the stranger who nods with a smile in the hall,
Reminding us all we’re not actually small.
When the sink starts to leak and the bills start to pile,
You still have the right to a rebellious smile.
For joy isn't something we save for the end,
Or a fragile resource we’re afraid to misspend.
It’s a spark in the chaos, a light in the dust,
A choice we renew with a quiet, fierce trust.
Though the engine is stalling and wheels might be stuck,
You are more than your stress or a run of bad luck.
Take a breath that is deep, let the oxygen bloom,
In the middle of noise, find a pocket of room.
The sun doesn't wait for the clouds to depart,
It burns with a fire that starts in the heart.
So laugh when it's messy and dance when it’s loud,
Find the silver that’s lining the heaviest cloud.
For the "way" that life gets in is life itself, too,
A wild, tangled garden that’s waiting for you.
Don’t wait for the quiet, don’t wait for the peace,
Or the day when the chores and the batteries cease.
The magic is hidden in tangles and grit,
In the messy, loud moments—don’t miss out on it.
Though the clock is a tyrant and days are a blur,
Hold on to the beauty, however obscure.
For even when life seems to get in the way,
You are living the gold of a brand-new today.
The cares of the world, are weighing me down.
To the point, that I wanted my thoughts; to drown.
Bills owed, finding their way to the mail box.
I want to pay them, but; I have too many roadblocks.
Collectors harassing day in and day out on the telephone.
Even on the "do not call" list they still won't leave you alone.
I try and develop a plan to suppress the harassment.
That didn't last very long, or even bring any appeasement.
The greedsome collectors send a pile, that is a waste of trees.
Just to collect their "grub" and jacked up hideous fees!
Then the greedsome collectors called me at work!
I called them back mad and was about to go berserk!
Then I received a whopping medical bill.
I felt so sick with disgust, I think I feel "ill".
In the mail was a pink envelope and what was inside?
An insurance bill that read "if not paid" then services denied.
I come home from my job feeling somber and "spent".
I opened up my check, of course; the government took their "cent".
They say when it rains, it pours.
Life’s tedious doldrums but, a different day; and more downpour!
Steam Train Troubles
Percival the steward of the train
Ordered foie gras and oysters too
But left them on the station platform like a fool
Wealthy customers will find this rather tedious
Trips from Switzerland to Germany can be quite mundane
There is plenty of coal though to keep the engine going
Steaming over rail and snow
Not too many murders are expected this go round
Business is much slower this time of year
Train travel lost its luster over time and customers as well
It is quieter with poorer clientele around
A handful of rich still occupy first class
Hang out about the open bar up there
Mr. Smith forgot his ticket
His wife is having an affair with Percival
The conductor wants them both arrested
For their blatant misconduct most unpleasant
Guns come out inside a tunnel entrance
Train covered sights and sounds inside the cab in there
When it exited, Percival was dead
Natural causes were to blame
With a bullet in his brain
Hundred dollar bills were scooped up from the floor
By witnesses who saw nothing but the trees outside
Steam engine rolled along the tracks as usual
Taking truth and reason with it through the snow
Created on 1/14/15 for Shadow Hamilton - “Railway Journeys” Poetry Contest
From 8 till 5 I'm not alive I just exist.
Targets hit and targets missed .
Pointless pressure god I'm pissed.
I'm betting you get the gist.
Like soldiers in the first world war
If you don't do as your told your fired .
Your just another company whore.
The bosses they are all hard wired.
The constant pressure takes its toll.
The bills the family the threats of the dole.
I think society's perfect world as been miss sold.
I'm disappearing into my own black hole.
I have had enough my patience bust , I'm going AWOL
My heads in my hands,and my tears are like a waterfall.
Do I care, hell no, not at all.
I've hit the dreaded WALL .
comp entry 25/10