Long Cheapskate Poems
Long Cheapskate Poems. Below are the most popular long Cheapskate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cheapskate poems by poem length and keyword.
I SEE TRUE YOUR EYES
You look, you look, you
look me, in the eye,
But your gaze carries
on, into infinity,
No other reason,
except it’s all lies,
Unable to make contact,
you stare through me.
You see, you see,
you don’t see at all,
Give nothing away,
that’s your weakness,
Extremely clever,
a Scrooge to befall,
Greed’s all consuming,
brings only bleakness.
I know, I know, I know,
what you are,
Obsessed about money,
yet unable to spend,
I’m not jealous,
have my own happy sum,
Don’t insult me, by
acting poor, it offends.
You want, you want,
you want, but don’t need,
This avarice inside,
knows no bounds,
It’s a cancer,
spreading like a disease,
When speaking, your
bleeding heart sounds.
I strive, I strive,
I strive, to survive,
But my soul,
Is full of vagaries,
You’ll always be rich,
but never can thrive,
Only get thrills,
by saving and Chicanery.
You are, you are,
you are a cheapskate,
A miser a skinflint,
sell out your own family,
And for what, only to
have a niggard’s trait,
bank account you’ll never
touch, is pathological fantasy.
By
David Kavanagh.
You expect you expect “You
expected more from a (paddy)?
Self-serving nonsense,”
a trap by design,
Hits a raw nerve,
penny-pinchers unhappy,
This ones on me,
didn’t cost you a dime.
I'll tell you the reason why my neighbor's head has a big dent.
I mowed his yard and cleaned his gutters and he paid me 25 cents.
When he handed me that quarter, I began to yell.
Before I slugged the jerk, I told him to go to hell.
He threw a punch at me but I ducked.
This man is a cheapskate, he really sucks.
I tied one end of a rope to my car's rear bumper and the other end to his leg.
As I drove my car about seventy miles, he asked me to stop and he begged.
After dragging him with my vehicle, his butt had a big rash.
That's what he got because he's too cheap to pay any cash.
When I told him that he'd get even worse, he stopped threatening to sue.
If you decide to hire me and pay me 25 cents, I'll do the same things to you.
(This is a fictional poem)
I'm all alone and I feel remorse.
A cheap VCR caused me to get a divorce.
Many people say that was a silly reason for our marriage to end.
I lost the love of my life and I haven't seen her again.
Two years earlier I filmed the birth of our son.
Now I'm all alone because of what I've done.
I decided to save thirty bucks by buying a generic VCR.
She hit me so hard that I'm still seeing stars.
I never made any copies of that tape but now I wish I had.
My cheap VCR ate the tape and my wife sure was mad.
When she saw the ruined cassette, she went ape.
I tried to run but I couldn't escape.
She beat me so hard, I had never seen such abuse.
When she got a hold of me, she turned me every way but loose.
I'll give you some advice so you won't suffer my terrible fate.
When you buy a VCR, don't be a cheapskate.
Form:
The grandfather on my mother's side was a cheapskate.
A real cheapskate.
One Christmas, he gave me a used paperback book.
Something like “Jimmy Plays Baseball.”
It was written for a 7 year old child, and I was considerably older than that.
Still had “5 cents” written in pencil on the first page.
No foolin'.
Asked he, “You ever read that one?”
Replied I, “No granddad. Can’t say I have. Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas.”
I hated going to visit them.
In the row house in Baltimore city, where my mother grew up.
(‘Balmer.’ ‘Balmer, Merilan.' “How you doin’ hon?”)
Me and my sister sitting on the wood floor in the living room.
Positioned dead eyed to the manger on the mantle.
Given board games to occupy our time.
My father loved talking to him, Leo, Leo Groeninger.
Because he was brilliant.
And he knew everything about everything.
A sedentary encyclopedia on the spectrum.
His second wife sitting dutifully next to him on the couch.
My mother sitting in a chair, the only one left in the living room.
“Maybe you kids would like to play checkers, or Parcheesi.”
But he had one saving grace:
His German potato salad.
The real thing.
Made with ham fat.
Five pounds of ham fat.
Or bacon, if you didn't have any ham fat.
Damn that stuff was good!
2/23/21
From May to April
Faithful
Remaining grateful
And thankful
Hiking around with a dog named Hazel
Sometimes watching a movie or something on cable
Got to make the best of it, or else it would be shameful
Far too often people being sour and hateful
Tripping over power in ways that are disgraceful
Occasionally it was painful
At times there was betrayal
Similar to Cain and Abel
Still I sought to bring a lot to the table
Using it effectively instead of being wasteful
Easy to follow or hard to track on any trail
The end result was successful or it failed
I sped around or moved like a snail
Saw it all on a minor or major scale
Laid low like a minnow or moved around like a Blue Whale
Drinking alcohol, water or ginger ale
The real thing not no Fairy-tale
Or old wives' tale
Got to live it up every day, before they put in the final coffin nail
I loss, reached a stalemate or prevailed
Setting sail
For as long as I can, until the outcome is fatal
Stars went out and others grew bright
Never lose sight
All through life
Underneath sunshine and moonlight
Always trying to do right
Regardless of if we are ever able to truly unite
At all times they watch
Folks continually being brain washed
Obsessed and distracted by the playoffs
Instead of individuals around us similar to Adolf
Far too often there is a face-off
Worked out great or it came at a great cost
Wasn't always a straight shot
In and out of areas with more or less than eight cops
Spread out or posted up in the same spot
For Pete's sake
It was easy or difficult taking more than three takes
Near and far from sea snakes
While in and out of the breezeway
As life continues on or begins to decay
Once in awhile I'd have a slice of cheesecake
Close to or nowhere near the seascape
Some never had it, others lost it, and the rest believe with faith
Few generous, most a cheapskate
Among garbage and keepsakes
Occasionally I daydream
Realize it isn't what it always may seem
Would it do us any better if we end up on the same team?
Let me put it in Quotation marks!!!
This is not for the faint of heart
A world full of fakes and farce
Always on opposing sides many remain apart
Meanwhile the news is sad still breaking hearts
Once again the betraying starts
Can't replicate this ancient art
I can see the light, but all around it's painted dark
Doing my best at staying sharp
While swimming and facing sharks
How can you ever make it far
If you never take it seriously with great regard?
It's bad
I never thought I'd be this sad
All of it makes me a bit mad
Finding multiple avenues to withstand
Instead of staying stuck in quicksand
For pete's sake
He's a snake
Every part of me she hates
Jeez thanks
Difficult to keep faith
When it no longer seems safe
Too much seems fake
It's like I'm living in a dream state
I just want to be great
Instead of a cheapskate
I need cake
Duffles and a briefcase
Not a tea break
With teammates
You only get one life, not a remake
I got to get it right and keep pace
In the end
They wish you dead
Or want to see you live instead
I barely sleep
New discoveries buried deep
The path very steep
Yet fairly cheap
Risk is high, yet reward is priceless if you care to seek
It's a knock-off or a real name brand
Across a strange land
No longer the same man
Changed hands
With a new game plan
Cue the sad melody
Differently, it's yet to be
Too much getting the best of me
Eventually
In the end I see
It all will set me free
I think I'll write a country song
about the weasel that 'done me wrong'
We'd have been married thirty years today
if he hadn't had a penchant to stray.
I got the pickup truck, so we'll leave that part out
but there's lots of other things I can whine about.
I can hit a few notes on this guitar of mine,
now I need to come up with some catchy line.
Country songs need to have a refrain,
something so catchy it'll stick in your brain.
They're all about liars and cheaters and such
and cheapskate dates who want to go dutch.
I'll make a fortune when my song's a hit.
My inspiration was my ex the ....jerk?
Yes, I think I'll write me a country song
about the weasel that 'done me wrong'.
I'll put in a verse about socks on the floor,
then casually mention his red-headed .... friend?
Maybe I'll say that he broke my heart
I'm still not quite sure where to start.
Most of what I write may even be true.
I could mention his cologne smells like... aqua velva?
Yes, I'm sure I can write one if I try.
It'll hit the charts and from there just fly.
I know I can write a country song.
Anyone can when they've lived this long.
We all have something twangy and sad,
something good in our past that turned out bad.
* any resemblence to actual events is purely coincidental
** and thanks Nancy for the blog that inspired this
Once upon a time a well-stacked, beautiful Playmate
One featured in Hefner’s magazine, which was first rate
bought herself a marvelous Hollywood estate
With future proceeds she hoped to create.
This was way back in the day, about seventy-eight.
This girl had big boobs, pretty eyes and was not overweight.
I need to clearly voice this to my readers to demonstrate
She had all the equipment to make a fine date.
She went out on sixty thousand adventures, all a first date.
She thought it was because each guy was a cheapskate.
She always ordered extra dinners to go for at least eight.
This selfishness on her part, kind of sealed her fate.
She had all the equipment, she was good-looking bait.
But on this fact the male’s mothers would usually fixate.
She is probably out for your money, they would demonstrate.
Her spending habits are totally clear, they would stipulate.
This Playmate of the Month remained single as life would dictate.
She never understood how her weirdness sealed her fate.
At age 70 she has not gained any beauty or lost any weight.
But she is still dating in hopes of finding a forever after mate.