Long Cash cow Poems

Long Cash cow Poems. Below are the most popular long Cash cow by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cash cow poems by poem length and keyword.


Hate You Now

I saw the news today

I'd like to know what the hell you're trying

I want to find away

to silence you, and stop all the dying

You think you're above the law

You'll send to die just as many as you want to

Damnedest thing I ever saw

the mess you've made doesn't even seem to daunt you

You spit in our eyes and say
I'm gonna hate you now

because you are more evil than I am

and I'm gonna hate you now

cause I hate your point of view

I'm gonna hate you now

cause daddy's so proud

and mamma's still crying

and I'm gonna hate you now

cause my God told me to
When will it ever end

You'd think you would have learned by now

and what about you my friend

could you please tell me how

How will we find our way

when the God you pray to is a fat cash cow

who'll stand up and say

This has got to end.

but you slap mommas face and say
I'm gonna kill you now

because you are more wicked than I am

and I'm gonna kill you now

cause I hate your point of view

I'm gonna kill you now

My daddy's so proud and momma keeps crying

and I'm gonna kill you now

cause my God told me to.

Manipulation games

and broken promises from long ago

You put out the Lady's' flame

You'll reap what you sew

The children have to pay

Old men, and old women too 

they just get in the way

of the bombs I drop on you

I'm gonna hate you now

because you've always hated me

I'm gonna hate you now

For all the oil that I've bought

I'm gonna hate you now

Cause hate is all I've got

How will you return 

all the lives that you have wasted

watch the babies burn

Say this will keep us free

I wish you'd drink the blood

I wish that I could make you taste it

You've never understood
and you refuse to see
You turn your back on God and say
I'm gonna kill you now

because you are more wicked than I am

and I'm gonna kill you now

cause I don't agree with you

I'm gonna kill you now

cause Daddy's so proud and Mama's still crying

and I'm gonna kill you now

cause killings what I do

When will it ever end

You'd think you would have learned by now

what about you my friend

could you please tell me why

why can't he see the sin

of worshiping that fat cash cow 

just look at the mess we're in

You're killing for a lie
Form: Lyric


Thanks4giving Me Reason To Write Mish Mashed Gobbledygook

this own lee bro' thar of yars 
   dashed analogously graced
on par how a marathon runner raced
to Macbook Pro laptop computer post haste 

soon as he goat back 
   to his domicile nestled and encased
in the bucolic, democratic, 
   and fantastic spit non defaced

woodland partially hydrogenated oils baste
surrounding Highland Manor Apartment our ace
in the hole, whence he i.e. mice elf 
   (Matty Mouse) with threads of gratitude laced

within a feeble attempt 
   to burble, cobble, fiddle, easy as gravy, 
   an insrutable letter placed
in the output queue 

   soon as all 
   the typo O graphical errors erased
and, though struggle to convey love 
   for such an endearing older sister, 

   which digitally squawking, 
   aye did not cut and paste
boot doth admit to allowing, 
   a saucy bit of small potatoes sayest 

   in ma trademark (truemark) 
   stuffing of fluffernutter (that taste)
G---R---R---E---E---A---A---T 
   (courtesy of flaky Tony the corny tiger), 
   which gimmerish aims to waste

juiced spare moments, 
   and tubby direct, earnest and frank
lemme communicate without resorting 
   to caginess, 

   but free roaming thoughts to thank
ye and Rich for welcoming a small group 
   of family and friends 
   to your Woodbury, New Jersey abode, 
page number two:
   
   somewhat near Redbank
to relish the salad days of times gone by, 
   when as kids, 
   we tricked each other with a harmless prank

such as hiding a fuzzy wuzzy Willie, 
   or scaring the other 
   with the molded Creepy People that doth rank
as laughably innocent, these topsy turvy times, 

   when faith no more 
   eroded cameraderie 
   among fellow Americans to tank
especially as the world wide web 

   iz going to fill in the BLANK
thus moments to share 
   a tasty repast did help me to crank
out this artichoked gibberish, 
   which when placed 
   atop pyramid of cranberries sank.
  
as didst this heart of darkness 
   within soul asylum 
   of papa and momma genes
to two beautiful young women 
   re: daughters, whose absence 

   felt as gloomy fiends
similar to the Ogre encountered, 
   when goose that laid golden egg stolen
   by Jack of beanstalk 
   of story book fame as a cash cow means.
Form: Elegy

Solace In the Ghetto

As I stared out my project window into the streets were the predators never 
seemed to sleep and the dope heads that kept the neighbors in the private homes on 
pins and needles as they prowled the street, looking for the next cash cow to supply their drug needs. In the alley where we would play baseball during the daytime against the old trash bin, at night it served as the hiding place for the drug boys dope and guns…It’s sometimes hardto believe that decent people do live here in this place where I live, but they do. 

I don’t know how? But really they do, I swear. The alleyway was littered with so much broken glass on the ground, sometimes I would pretend that it was diamonds and would dream of running out one morning and picking it all up and then I would be rich like the people who lived in the private homes up on the hill. At night from my window in the summertime I could smell their grills cooking some expensive meat, that seem to overload my sense and make my belly growl in a hopeless thought that I might somehow get to taste it. 

In the distance sirens blare in the middle of the night as the ambulances race to the causalities of the night life. I can still recall those house parties that never seem to end, that’s until the men in blue decided to finally answer the calls and put an end to their night fun, but by that time they were all drunk and doped out or found a mate for the night…as they all spread out onto the side streets like cockroaches when you turn on the light and then shots rang out in the calm distance of the night. People scatter into the night. 

My eyelids are now so heavy I can barely hear my own thoughts inside my head. When all of sudden my door flings open, standing there in the doorway I can make out a shadow, I take a deep breath and continue to play like I’m asleep. Wow, it was only my mother, just checking in on her only investment for her future dream of a doctor or lawyer that would not have to deal with this mess, she shuts my door after seeing that I was okay…as she takes a deep sigh of relief, knowing she could take solace that her child was fast asleep.
Form: Narrative

City of Angels

If, as hippy folklore claims, it never rains in California,
Then the watermark is never washed out of the phoney cheque,
And when you’re dead and gone there’ll be no one here to mourn ya
For it was only God above urinating down your neck.
Carbon monoxide inhalation, it’s said, is pretty good for you,
So quit that forty a day habit, baby, move it with the flow;
Auto-suicide will wend its merry way and turn you blue,
So wrap your ruby red ones  ‘round a tail pipe instead and blow.

Handprints down at Graumans, stoned celebrity status crested
Of the celluloid long-dead and the many who are soon to be;
My shopping list wants tummy-tucked, liposuction-sculpted, silicon breasted 
Platinum blonde-haired bimbos who are certified free of H.I.V.
The boardwalk stretches like a sunshine catwalk by the sand and sea,
That roller babe looks good enough to eat, this must be heaven,
A junk food, high-cal sex blitz, glitzy steam hammer driven reality,
Her brain and heart aged sixty, yet her body twenty-seven.

Hang loose, chill out in air-conditioned stretch limo deep freezers,
It sure ain’t safe to mosey around alone, so don’t take chances;
And the infrared sun might fry your cheek to cancer and bejeezus,
Tough to keep your tongue in it, then, under the circumstances.
At night the stars reveal themselves, yet don’t look to the skies,
Dead super novas are never seen through pollution and stagnation,
Diaz, Hanks, Di-Caprio hold heaven’s wonder in cash cow eyes,
Down here that just about outshines every thing in God’s creation.

Multinational, mega-corporate, Hollywood moguls kick sorry ass,
Bedroom or boardroom these bondage freaks wield Olympian power,
Snorting lines of purest coke, feeding teenage pussy a champagne glass,
A minute on the screen, her life destroyed within an hour.
Gordon Gecko got it wrong, for greed is far from good you see,
Ray Chandler’s quip about this place a compliment and a half - 
You know, the one where he gave this town a paper-cup personality -
Still you’ve gotta laugh, don’t you? Well, don’t you gotta laugh…?
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Gangly Longfellow Walled In Thoreau and Thru

Gangly Longfellow walled in Thoreau and thru...

Well stocked with
wordsworth lxiii numbered yesteryear
born as predicted by
bubba's zayda longtime seer
while in utero premier
ultrasound detected
smudged embryonic fetus
whoosh auditory proto language unclear
surprisingly enough sounded analogous
to murmuring... huh yepper sonneteer
vaguely resembling, yes

William Shakespeare
though burbling, gurgling,
requiring absolute zero noise to hear
kickstarting, reverently warbling
difficult, diligent, distinct yawping,
nonetheless reckoned as dérailleur,
viz swiftly tailored
inchoate anatomical gear
hurriedly and harriedly styled 
pièce de résistance
yours truly born with silver dictionary
in his mouth, I f***'* swear

unusual biological phenomena
drew pediatricians far and near,
which (no surprise) determined
English major as academic career
matriculating upon immediately
exiting birth canal whip smart derriere
i.e. (ŧ§), spread like wildfire, where
media hounds blitzkrieg stunned to stare
not at me but bare
naked lady in no mood...ready to tear
away sophisticated audiovisual equipment

understandably on verge going nuclear
furious, (this told me later in life as here
say), she quickly (albeit groggily)
curtly demanded fair
remuneration, and milked
infant me as cash cow profiteer,
her eyes aglitter signaling,
shining, seeing... gold
let whoever sneer
earning money with initial gasp of air
freeing parents to live

within lap of luxury
world wide web sightseer,
yours truly received
royal carpet treatment everywhere
crisscrossing the globe
accoutered with most
expensive designer babywear
obliviously prattling, jabbering, gabbling...
invariably drawing throngs
across entire northern hemisphere
broadcast as podcast across atmosphere
all across the universe hoodwinking
convincing many of "FAKE" poetic story
concoction courtesy adept fictioneer.
Form: Rhyme


Matthew Scott the Marionette

Matthew Scott The Marionette...

(Concocting cock and bull poetic pap
promises to approximate bovine rap
worse case scenario..., you will snap
so friend me at funny farm in Trappe
Pennsylvania, or frankly yukon zap
this poppycock poetic
emetic entailing...vowel)

movements deftly managed skilled puppeteer
unseen hands adroitly maneuver paraphernalia
bajillion miles away deep into thee atmosphere,
where Soundgarden's black hole sun serves as
infinite energy-feeds performing artist career

inherent behind the scenes trickster leveraging
mine every move master of ceremonies appear
ring poking his oblate spheroid noggin thru walled
sky inquiring, asper state of being paternal care
oft times addressing him as father, cuz proficient

craftsmanship forged me from nought meticulously
rendering yours truly complex functions, an engineer
ring feat cosmic artisan whipped out applying greased
lightning rods (unbreakable accouterments) endowing,
and endorsing creation with uber tender loving care

divine intervention nary clue hinted, thus me unaware
leverage, sans remote control bound tethered bond
most every day of "FAKE" existence never suspected
every aspect of my being linkedin at mercy of pioneer,
who more or less cornered, fabricated, patented... the

market, sans configuring sophisticated kin o'man near
lee indistinguishable from offal housed in Augean stables
essentially explaining incessant mooing "holy cow" & rear
ring like a bucking bronco, though mastermind did milk
golden opportunity calf full not to exploit this cash cow

loose sing hybridized mutant amidst green acres, where
past chore age of cornucopia frequently dredges muck
cob bray, and remembrance of things past, I Angus here
hoof hit might be convenient Taurus to part ways lest
ye accuse me being lame provocateur, spewing this slop
(from well chewed cud) out the figurative derriere!

Gangly Longfellow Thoreau and Thru

Gangly longfellow thoreau and thru...

Well stocked with
wordsworth lx numbered yesteryear
born as predicted by
bubba's zayda longtime seer.

While in utero premier
ultrasound detected
smudged embryonic fetus
whoosh auditory proto language unclear
surprisingly enough sounded analogous

to murmuring... huh yepper sonneteer
vaguely resembling, yes
William Shakespeare
though burbling, gurgling,
requiring absolute zero noise to hear
kickstarting, reverently warbling

difficult, diligent, distinct yawping
nonetheless reckoned as dérailleur,
viz swiftly tailored
inchoate anatomical gear
hurriedly styled pièce de résistance
yours truly born with silver dictionary

in his mouth, I f¨ç°ˆ˜© swear
unusual biological phenomena
drew pediatricians far and near,
which (no surprise) determined
English major as academic career
matriculating upon immediately

exiting birth canal whip smart derriere
i.e. (ŧ§), spread like wildfire, where
media hounds blitzkrieg stunned to stare
not at me but bare
naked lady in no mood...ready to tear
away sophisticated audiovisual equipment

understandably on verge going nuclear
furious, (this told me later in life as here
say), she quickly (albeit groggy)
curtly demanded fair
remuneration, and milked
infant me as cash cow profiteer,

her eyes aglitter signaling,
shining, seeing... gold
let whoever sneer
earning money with initial gasp of air
freeing parents to live
within lap of luxury

world wide web sightseer,
yours truly received
royal carpet treatment everywhere
crisscrossing the globe
accoutered with most
expensive designer babywear

obliviously prattling, jabbering, gabbling...
invariably drawing throngs
across entire northern hemisphere
broadcast as podcast across atmosphere
all across the universe hoodwinking
convincing many of "FAKE" poetic story
concoction courtesy adept fictioneer.

Spectacular Doe Eyed Prodigy Drummer Nandi Bushell

Nirvana protégé podcast/youtube
phenom quite mature
talented young lass promising future
media attention did capture
overnight starlet exhibits bravure
generates profuse nonstop
outstandingly positive conjecture

nine year old greeted in France bonjour
mademoiselle so innocent and pure
guaranteed future success 
near anonymity one day
household name the next,
automatic fame secure,
whose beautiful swarthy
complexion compounds allure.

Courtesy technological tentacled
trappings everywhere
twenty first century raw
talent discovered anywhere
across world wide web
instant cash cow bajillionaire
clinched record deals guaranteed
linked immortal wealth crystal clear
financial woes never nightmare

flush electronic deposits buffer
sudden renown claim heir
reddit teary boosting
quantity kith and kin here
rilled predictable feigned
interest to care,
when yesterday no hoots given
toward young person's welfare.

Such simplification possibly doth err
grossly inaccurate, I aver,
rushed prediction unfair
nonetheless interesting how
forgotten friends and relatives spur
unexplainable long

atrophied well timed flair
to buttress crumbling complex edifice
long forgotten grudge doth disappear
tangentially madding crowd
metaphorical boatload relative
strangers ferried jostle appear
amazingly enough out thin air

human nature inexplicably fickle
another case in point here,
when yours truly did not roundly square,
among classmates nasty glare
but triangulated, threatened, teased...
convenient token (non smokin')
scapegoat bullies throve to scare

name calling, spitting, suckerpunching,
a curse this then skinny, puny, dorky...
boy never did dare
raise his non hazardous dukes fear
ring being clobbered, pureed, whipped...
perhaps thugs menacing scissoring my long hair
passively internalized deplorable angst.
Form: Elegy

KG the OG WTC

Not just WTC..

KG has to be..the OG

Saffa Jaffa gaffer….sole goal

Batters harries
 
Carries..never parries

Weight and expectation

Fate & soul

Of a whole nation


South African speedster larder 

Is choc a block

Marco..new narco tyro

Already a believer 

The length & strength 

Octopus tentacles

Mr Tickle tendrils 

Hefty lefty lever


But their rock..Dr Spock

Shepherd of the flock

Heir and leader of their 

Racy pacy flair armada

No one tries harder

While looking so smooth

Ultimate slick quick pick

KG Rabada


Scolding batters..stagger..folding..

In tatters..crickey in the groove

Flatters…moves like Mikey Holding

Forget the coke farce

All swagger with the ball

Didn’t choke..Kagiso in full flow

Dagger and cloak bloke..VIP Pass


Follows champagne Steyn

Morkel reign and the  

Vernon sermon..Philander propaganda 

Trier…Makhaya fire campaign

Pollock bucolic frolic

Vibes of Donald diatribes 


Finally even the scribes subscribes

Imbibes this latest great

Pips the rest

Fastest to get 300 hundred wickets

So hot to trot…beats the elite lot

Oh and also got the best ever..Test strike rate

But a little glummer..the bummer

No home tests this summer

Just such a shame..some disdain

Dumber mandarin sins as they kowtow to the cash cow

Meaning Kagiso will fail…no way will play enough games

To end the fat stat tale

Reign of Dale Steyn


Oh and a lovely final aside

Not only did they lose the race

Aussie doom and gloom

But the face of pace..Rabada the ace

Became only the second name not from mighty blighty

To grace the hall of fame hordes on the

Home dressing room boards at Lords
Form: Rhyme

Shopping At Wal-Mart

Shopping at Wal-Mart

By Elton Camp

Worse economic woes could be in store
So I watch what I spend as never before
And that is now the principal reason why
That our Wal-Mart is where I usually buy

At that place, I find very little I can praise,
Except that it’s true, “Low Prices Always”
And I can even understand the reasons why
Their own store brands they urge me to buy

But if saving money wasn’t any object at all
At a much nicer store I would prefer to call
One that would help me get out to my car
And closer parking so I don’t walk so far

At an establishment where the clerk tries
To help me find what’s in my own size
Where checkout lines don’t reach the wall
And my money is taken without any stall

Where the employees don’t give a blank stare
And about giving good service, show they care
A place where they carry the quality brands
Rather than having mainly the unknown cans

And in a building where I don’t walk a mile
From the entrance to the milk and bread aisle
To a pharmacy where they don’t close for lunch
So they can eat together—the whole bunch

To a business that doesn’t look for a cheater
With a person in the guise of a store greeter
One that beggars at the entrance won’t allow
Who try to milk me like I am some cash cow

As soon as I approach the door, they begin
And when I am trying to leave, do it again
“Please give to the cause near to my heart.
So that doing our new project we can start.”

If I could afford extra money to give away
It sure wouldn’t be costs like that I’d defray
As I drive out of the enormous parking lot
I wish I could afford a better shopping spot
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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