Long Finances Poems
Long Finances Poems. Below are the most popular long Finances by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Finances poems by poem length and keyword.
Doomsday Clock January 2022...
the most recent tabulation
signaled one hundred seconds to midnight
A couple years ago
similarly titled poem I did write,
yet looms as harbinger unless
*****sapiens can unite
one non Yiddish speaking
Ongematert wishing ye
fare thee well tonight
before betokening apocalyptic sight
'course one must go about
her/his business - right?
Rhetorical question - yet
impossible mission quite
challenging, where one
brother grimm ponders plight
Cosmofunnel favorite fan
Katina Borgersen "poof"
our acquaintanceship dissolved
(think - snapped fingers) outright
regardless, whether...
perchance we ever
cross paths long daze
journey into night
met under virtual reality moonlight
ah... the mere awareness
of her existence
metaphorically found modest, mercurial
mellow male within limelight
oy vey admittedly one
rusty Ongepatshket knight
fumbling in the dark with
his unreliable sputtering jacklight
hooping aforesaid gal whose eyes alight
upon mine genuine words doth newt
coon sitter me laughable, nor impolite,
yet accept hard reality to highlight
and/or _ underscore delight
full dame online - each of us,
an infinitesimal jot of granulite
within vast cosmos given finite
minuscule time to excite
our senses trending utmost delight
during brief unique
deoxynucleic chromosomal copyright
til death do us part,
whether natural demise
or... huge mushroom
clouds radioactive blight
unimaginable nightmarish scenario
impossible mission to close third eye blind
webbed global haunting spectacle
mortal creatures linkedin to ill fate
including yours truly,
a generic, garden variety
hermetically sealed cell bit anchorite.
Uneasiness far greater
to confront atomic augury
than pernicious penury
which ceases within eyeblink
far more serious than perjury
nonetheless afflicting me
with psychological injury.
Personal finances pitted
me deep in hock
into red room zone,
shining thru the mist
story, yes I experience
quite a shell shock,
to absorb inconvenient truth
great swaths of Gaia
analogous to dead zone,
nevertheless, now finds yours
truly poorest, oldest, and nerdiest
curmudgeon goofy "kid"
on the chopping block
within Lake Wobegon
hard space and third rock
from sun as inevitable doom
inches closer as each second elapses
insync with inaudible tick tock.
There seems to be silence within the serene night,
yet those indoors have eternal cries of unspoken fright.
One man drowns in chocolate, shamefully eying his hips,
as the woman next door kisses the hundredth man’s lips.
Two floors below, one screams out in pain,
as fatal anger has won the game.
The killer, shadowed, makes no remark,
but watches the blood flow, immersed in his soul of eternal dark.
Three doors across, an elderly man sits, rejected and broke,
hiding his face with tendrils of smoke.
His trusty cigarettes always at the ready,
when his finances where never steady.
Another flight down, a woman drowns in her agony sip by sip,
her life seems to slip by like a commercial blip.
Yet all she can think
is that her marriage is on the brink.
Before she fades into the night of another day,
all she remembers is throwing her wedding ring away.
Traveling down to the ground floor,
the troubles seem to equal more.
A woman tosses about in her anxious bed,
while her worries do pirouettes in her head.
Try to let the past and present go,
but the future looms like a horror show.
Outside, in the darkness, a piercing light shines
as a moth flutters by, on the still air it climbs.
It seems this beacon, as bright as the sun,
new hope has just begun.
The moth bangs itself against the glass,
trying to reach glory at last.
Yet no matter how much its antennae bend,
or wings grow fragile and not able to mend,
it seems like the only thing to do
to deal with its feelings, old and new.
Until it steps back and looks at the light
realizing that harming itself won’t set anything right.
With the last of its strength, ending its plight,
the moth flies off into the night.
At this moment, the man decides to rid his house of fat-packed glory,
as the woman on the ground floor takes a deep breath, changing her story.
The killer at large turns himself in,
the end to his years of sin.
The woman pours the bottles of wine down the drain,
finally she can remember her name.
The elderly man exhales his last puff of smoke,
the grueling memories no longer prod and poke.
And the woman kissing her hundredth man
lets him go, heart no longer sinking in deadly quicksand.
The light of dawn finally breaks,
and the darkness of the mind no longer takes
away from the people’s lives
as the light of hope is now by their sides.
in order to get back to Eden to live on top of the world
there are a few things from God which need to be heard
here in America in the democratic land of milk and honey
African-Americans are disproportionate when it comes to power and money
our healthcare is poorer, our finances worse, few of us in seats of power
at the bottom of most demographic indicators and our circumstances diminish by the hour
the most unemployed, the most discriminated, the first to be laid-off or dismissed
more of us in jail, a lot of us illiterate, there are too many problems for me to list
fewer marketable skills, fewest high school diplomas and don't mention college degrees
African-American men in America need to take off their blinders and see
to those who stand behind stained-glass windows and look down on those who have less
you need to take your brothers back to Eden and put an end to all this mess
you might not comprehend their reality but you should attempt to understand
that as true servants of God you should help your fellow man
if you consider yourself to be a true disciple of Christ
what have you done to enrich someone else's life?
who did you clothe? who did you feed?
who did you minister to in their time of need?
who did you mentor to on how to be a man?
who did you talk to or stretch out your hand?
there's a lot of work that needs to be done to get our brothers inspired
we need to help them build a relationship with God and do as Jesus aspired
in order to get back to Eden we need to start at the very beginning
with the basic instructions that God is recommending
to fellowship with your fellow man
to develop a trust opposite to slavery's plan
to communicate with positivity
to no longer promote negativity
to pull up your pants and walk like a man
to be productive and not destructive
to be supportive and not abortive
to act like someone's father and not like you're being bothered
to teach our brothers to put down the guns and take up the cross
so they will no longer act like thugs but to think like a boss
no longer will we be divided with jealous envy
now united as brothers under God's authority
getting back to Eden to be on top of the world
to living our lives according to God's Holy word
to get back to Eden and up from the basement of life
living on top of the world as brothers with our savior Jesus Christ
Accursed human species
case in point Vladimir Putin,
who strikes terror across globe.
Don't underestimate his hell bent
zeal to attack United States,
one blood sucking infernal
predacious *****sapien
mercilessly bullies, interrogates,
threatens... with zeal.
Considerably less mortifying
constitutes wrathful ordeals
exhibited by adults who treat
thine wife with indecorous jibes
like punks who sat back of bus
or classmates at Methacton
High School, mine alma mater.
No different than typical mean kids
many crotchety residents here
Highland Manor Apartments
majority residents aggrieve the missus
though said counterpart (thee spouse)
exudes standoffish poise
countenance dons and
nonverbally trumpets scowl
body language broadcasts
social graces be damned
easily interpreted as snub
engendering hostile imprecations
cruelly fiendish provocations
undermine capacity to experience
peace of mind
exacerbated by her
figurative cold shoulder
propensity to flip the bird
notched, ratcheted, torqued... tension
courtesy miss prissy heiress,
daughter, she secured management role
albeit (hats off) to nepotism
guarantees lifelong job security
issued thee missus warning
rental stipulation disallows
overt middle finger flashing signal
emotional entanglement ensued
yours truly tasked
to pursue more favorable environment,
yet scant finances (mine)
and poor credit
two strikes against
locating affordable living situation
since sole family income
social security disability
direct deposited monthly
buzzfeeding checking account
regularly near anorexic,
cuz additionally I pay
costs of living expenses
cole king avoiding being homeless,
thus this penniless
among dime a dozen
day late dollar short
low income bracketed
(marching with madness)
mister casts quandary
couched as poetry,
no great expectations,
nonetheless cathartic to communicate
(hoop fully understandable)
present tense plight
projected as plotted trend
fat and/or slim chance
fate will curse me as lottery winner
pipe dream teasing
this word plumber flush with ire,
who feels nsync and drained
scraping hand to mouth
bemoaning apathy, dismal
effort, gross indifference
toward self sums (mein kampf)
plus academic struggles
proffers grim forecast
as coxswain at mercy
rudderless ship of state
edges closer to his waterloo.
Where‘s The Bull?
A few years ago at the close of the morning worship service in the lobby of our church, a young teen greeted me with the words, “How are you doing Mr. Curtis?” My reply to him at the time was, “I’m hanging in there.” This was a time when the nation’s economy was in disarray, and my personal finances were not much better. Some weeks later I saw him again in the same area of the lobby, and he greeted me with the words, “Hi Mr. Curtis, are you still hanging in there?”. I almost answered him in the same manner as before, because things had not really gotten any better. However, I caught myself and replied by saying, “No, I’m not hanging in there. I have the bull by the horns, and he’s going down”.
I believe that the 'Bull statement' triggered something inside of me that made a big difference in the future outcome for my life and circumstances. No, my belief system did not change, but a “God Moment” came to the front and overpowered me to overcome any attitude of doubt or negativity that had existed in my spirit. A fresh fire was kindled, and a ‘knowing’ within me was born that in essence said to me that I did not have to ‘hang on’ or ‘hang in’ there for dear life. The fresh fire enabled me to stop hanging on to the tail of the bull to be slung about and around wherever the bull desired.
The bulls of life are always on the loose, and bulls will do what bulls do. We must decide and take courage to do what Christians do. Our bulls of life will never go down as long as we are fighting at the tail by hanging on. It is when we take on the bull by his horns that we are enabled to bring him to the ground.
At the time of the young man’s question, we were in a season of life unlike any we had faced before. The seasons of the year can be defined and generally described, but they are never the same. We know that they are coming and going all the time, but we never know the character and the magnitude of their impact. So is the case with the seasons of our lives.
So. What is your bull’s name today? Where is he, and where are you positioned in relation to the bull’s movements? The bull’s movements are always strong and are designed to destroy us. We must not be content with simply hanging on for survival. Because God is with me, I can trust him in the stormy seasons of my life.
10022014 cj PS
I Don't Believe in Slavery
By Franklin Price
07/01/2020
I don't believe in slavery of any class or creed.
Slavery most always comes from power and from greed.
When the rich don't have the riches, to control what they survey,
They oft resort to slavery, as they did back in the day.
The ones who built the pyramids and most the wonders of this earth
The powerful said they did it, but enslavement gave them birth.
Not so much has changed today, the rich and powerful control.
They take advantage of the lower class and their methods take a toll
When profit margins start to sag, the workers are first hit
No way the rich should suffer, no not even just a bit
Send the work to foreign nations where their dollar is our dime
Sounds like slavery to me, for the rich it's not a crime
To put our own on welfare doesn't cost the rich a cent.
For the taxes that they pay, doesn't even make a dent.
The middle class will pay for it, that's the way that it should be
It's time we stood up for ourselves, and threw the tea into the sea
I don't know many of the rich, who have made it on their own,
Except for some who bet on stocks, or won the lottery alone.
Most on the backs of others, while staying out of touch
Not paying out a living wage; Is that Slavery?; not so much.
At least that's the way they see it, yes I'm speaking of the rich
And our government who helps them, now isn't life a .
Who do you think finances them, these leaders of the land.
If you think the ones on welfare, then you just don't understand.
The longer they are on the hill, the richer they become.
Enslaved there by the richest, they've forgotten where they're from
They think they are the royalty, ones who control the land.
We must oust them in November. It's time the people took a stand.
We're supposed to be the government, instead we're just its slaves
If we don't stand up to Washington, we'll take enslavement to our graves
We've got to pull together, red and yellow, black and white
Rid ourselves tyranny, put some new blood in the fight
I hope it's not too late for us, and this country that we love
The statues and the monuments, remnants of much push and shove.
Our way of life's not easy, we must retain the peoples' power.
What happens in November could be our worst or finest hour.
(witch role an unavoidable mandatory phase)
that nowadays breaks the piggybank
like a dropped fragile vase
you most likely nod assent if offspring grown,
or ponder new found challenge
expectant motherhood costs of progeny
take the following precendent all ways.
deux daughters desiduous teeth comprise
sum total of forty milky pearl white
whereat each healthy tooth
a miraculous bite size bit
of jaw dropping wizardry to in vite
a tasty morsel to get chewed,
until at some arbitrary time
(incumbent on each individual biological clock),
the second set thwart aside
(or sometime literally override)
these baby choppers right
fully as sought after treatures for the tooth fairy
(oft time disguised as part
of canine corp) offer sterling sight,
but fascinating as each replicated, punctuated,
lacteal dentition adorned with a pulp,
dentin, enamel, and cementum quite
a complex miniature edifice,
or a more apropos metaphor fielding sprite
would be a picket fence with important slats,
and thus a challenging plight
arises when a child shows their mother or father
gapped smile, and understands
to place tooth under pillow at night
when quiet as a mouse (who to be honest
create scratching sounds) the might
tee tooth fairy doth descend (nowadays
resort to global positioning
satelline application)
to find their way without turning on the light
soundless and still as a dust mote
feign being a knight
less to rescue a damsel, maybe
one baby step ahead of her/his insight
expecting to disover a modest wad of cash,
if stood on end, rather sizable in height
and essentially necessitating po' papa
to take out a loan, or hope flight
of fancy wish to win the lottery,
which would exite
self or spouse, but reality in league
with the fickle finger of fate doth disappoint and delight
son or daughter boasting to classmates,
how the rich tooth fairy (iz actually a faux pas
sham shaman, dirt poor father, bled dry,
whose coutenance (visible after break of day)
reflects that of one who barely survived a catfight
with finances in tatters as if
one money hungry toothless fairy took a bite.
Form:
Twenty One years later…
Twenty one years, together we’ve stayed
For our mistakes, our children have paid.
You chose to leave, twenty years ago
“There’s no one else”, for you told me so.
Later I found, that there had been five
Over the road, the truck you would drive.
Booze played a part, and you walked away
Freedom you’d want, so that you could play.
Bottom you hit, “Oh please take me back”
“I lost my way, now I’m back on track”.
“I’ll give up booze, for this I will swear”
“This storm I’ve caused, together we’ll fare”.
Seven years passed, I couldn’t let go
You broke my heart, I tried not to show.
I could forgive, no remorse you had
That hurt the most, and made me quite sad.
Again we split, and went our own ways
I’d see you drive, by the house some days.
Hard on us all, the kids were so sad
“Please take him back, ‘cuz he is our dad”.
Holidays near, for they would be rough
Remaining strong, I knew would be tough.
“Mom, dad loves you, he told me to say”
Using the kids, is always your way.
You start to drink, the promises break
A different path, your life starts to take.
“If you don’t trust, we don’t have a life
“I don’t love you, as if you’re my wife”.
That broken trust, on me you do blame
We’ve grown apart, we’re just not the same.
I can’t let go, the past is right here
You’ve brought it back, and made it quite clear.
You’re just not sure, if MS plays part
One thing I know, you’ve broken my heart.
The vows we took, for better or worse
For my disease, is more than a curse.
You watched your dad, give much of his life
So he could care, for his ailing wife.
This same long road, not sure what will be
Don’t want tied down, you want to be free.
“I do love you”, “that spark isn’t there”
“Staying married”, “just doesn’t seem fair”.
“Please do not fear, your needs will be met”
“I will make sure, your finances set”.
Soon you’ll deploy, and head off to war
Maybe that’s why, you’re shutting the door.
Separate we’ll be, and so far apart
I hope this brings, some peace to your heart.
You like to say, the problem is me
It’s all my fault, so you are guilt free.
Playing head games, emotions run high
I think it best, to tell you good bye.
in the Lord's Prayer there is this one simple line
which is profound, intense and also sublime
"Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread" is what it does state
the Word Of God on which to dine in order to keep the faith
living on the providential portions sent to us by the Lord God
living on His promises which will spiritually nourish our hearts
God desires that we pray on everything that from Him we possess
and to pray for ourselves as well as for others is the message we need to address
for prayer is the way to give Him thanks and to give God all the praise
the way to communicate with Him on a level so that the spirit in us will be raised
as everything that we have comes courtesy of the Lord Our God
all we desire, all we require, all that is in our hearts
no man nor woman, no sinner nor saint, no devil nor demon can ever aspire
to fulfill every need we depend on nor everything that we would require
as man cannot live by bread alone we need God to supply the rest
those providential portions on which we can attest
so stop worrying about the job, the finances, the cars and the homes
trust in God to provide all you"ll need by the power of His throne
God is very concerned about the things we need from day to day
and most of all He desires that we prosper in each and every way
He does not want us to be begging nor to borrow nor to steal
He wants us to turn to Him in prayer and it sure wouldn't hurt to kneel
so recognize the hand of God in everything that you own
and come to understand that it all has come to be by the grace of the Heavenly Throne
just trust in Him for He is in control
and believe that He watches over all our souls
and to know that what He provides each and everyday
is sufficient enough for us to somehow make a way
so don't be selfish when you pray, learn to pray for others
remember you're not here alone include you fellow sisters and brothers
for God loves the sinners and well as He loves the saints
He also loves the strong of heart as well as the faint
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread and those providential portions on which we're living
and believe in your heart that it will be sufficient enough whatever to you that God has given
slipping sideways
cant think straight
blind date confiscated
see through side view
in the trees
the whispering breeze
thoughts slipping away this way
The morning the rooster screams us awake
cant speak my language
new wave gobblede gook
you will never see through
just hope you understand my hate has potential
also my love for you
the psychic wildfire we cannot see
i hate you too
differently than you hate me
set me free
from this blank and white conspiracy
its getting colder
seasons as weapons
its getting colder
a place no one goes
something to piece together
how is it no one knows
Music industry nothing more than disorganized thinking
what i said upstairs was what i said upstairs
here we find ourselves on middle ground
the porcupine and the rooster
the farmer forgot
mood kill
sleeping the wake
the surprise of the oh my goodness
if only i would have woke up
before the rooster crowed
my poor dog marbles has quills in his nose
its getting colder
cant say i know this
forget what you know
we are always the same
to be different this way
exhausted from the intricate ciecles
that cause my headache
and the music industry rediagnosed
disorganised thinking
conspiritual unfit king
song and dance
covered moons
and finances
broken legs
and hopefullls
i put my marble down for the night
look at it another way tomorrow
just another satisfied customer
conning his way to his money back guarantee
never this confused
the muse has schitsophrenia of the disorganised type
marble my spoons
and lets make pancakes
song and dance charade
king unfit of sex and diamonds
my heart on my sleeve
king of pain
and distract you from this rusty cage
break out again
one more day
yesterday came
top hat too heavy
and the joke is on me
or did you see this blessing coming?
unpredictable brigade with no champagne
spooning my sugar
too much coffee
my head aches
my heart is on my sleeve
digging your grave
a contract for the middle man
victomised by your propoganda
victomised by your government
i'll martyr myself
but this porcupine is tired of his puupet
and the rooster needs sleep