Long Fiscal Poems
Long Fiscal Poems. Below are the most popular long Fiscal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fiscal poems by poem length and keyword.
Moving through the pulse and the flow
A timetable of fixed dilation
A given
And measured
Ellipse
To the people it trips
As they ride the crest
Of the waves
Of emotions
Just prisoners of
Perpetual motion
Never ceasing
Never pretending to be
Anything more
Born into the days
Of a future long past
Spying its records
From the start to the last
We are all
Just second hand news
In a land of ne’re to be
Nonsensical devotion
The prisoners of perpetual motion
Elate
And repress
The We
The US three
The Me
Myself
and I
Come to share in a life such as these
Checking out the view
I’m just second hand news
In the land of Ne’re do we
Strolling on by and
Pressing on through
Tasked with its provisions
And it’s riddled revisions
Nonsense and fiction
Have found their new diction
Of solar progression
As they encapsulate
The US Three
Strolling on by
Pressing ahead
The RIGHT
And the TRUE
It’s textured and layered deception
Held a managed intervention
Holding within its folio
The signatures of digression
Devoid of emotion
As it’s pendulum swings to and fro
Never able to leave
Or break its grasp
Transcending all in its path
Nonsense and fiction
Wear a guise of suspicion
Take on a new face
A perplexing division
With its sweeping broad strokes
To embrace and replace the US Three
Brushing on past
Just a page before
You knocked on the door
Of the garden where flowers once grew
These steps you’ve taken
Left to the tender mercies
Of fiscal conservancy’s
Hyperbolic uncertainty
Common knowledge
Given breathe
As stolen
A thief
Of the Inspector in chief
His notes plainly written
A solider in part
Has taken my enemies heart
In a fruitless pursuit
Of passion and pain
Here
I remain
In its orbital dance
The great mechanic has cast
His players
The WE
The US Three
Cry the home
On this ellipse
As we roam
The WE
The US Three
The black crow
Watches unfaltering
With his stalwart gaze
As your counterfeit lies
Sought in other men’s eyes
With a forbodance
Which can not be denied
In the wink of an eye
Like the pearls on a string
That glow
And
That shine
As it squares with the facts
In the drivers seat of circumstance
And at length in perpetuity
YOU hold the charter to men’s hearts.
as all the “elected” puppets congregate
with hands tied behind their backs
& marionette strings held in the hands of
corporate america (aka the global corporate),
they edge the tips of their toes along the
“fiscal cliff,” in order to force the
unfortunate citizens of the empire
boiling in the belly,
to tremble again---
talk of “cutting social security”
terrifies the seniors, who are disposed of
as quick as possible in this
“land of the free,”
that is, if they aren’t forced to work
until their last dying day,
in order to afford the health care that
IS NOT UNIVERSAL
in this pathetically dwindling
“democratic,” 1st world country,
whose only remaining strength is
an overwhelming war machine, a
vacuum, that continues to suck whatever
life is left,
from this place that so many in the world
still look upon as
a “land of opportunity”---
and those who are working
get to look forward to more tax increases,
in order to pump more money into drone attacks,
waging of wars in countries that refuse to do
our bidding
(which, by the way, will soon be flying over our
very own heads here on the domestic front,
violating any remaining “right to privacy”
which we have left),
whilst the wealthy are not touched, so as to
not dirty the dirty hands that shook all those
little puppet’s hands on their rise to
political fame---
for those who are still unemployed,
the expiration of benefits is coming &
desperation is approaching,
for those who are working a temp job,
they know all too well that their days are
numbered,
before they get to face that very same
desperation, first hand---
the whole while we will continue to hear about the need to
“raise the debt ceiling” or we will go into default,
that is, we will go into default,
because we cannot pay China
(as if we can or will, ever pay back China),
China, who has been increasingly improving their
infrastructure (longest high speed rail line in the world
just opened two days ago, Guangzhou-Beijing),
China, whose own military is increasingly growing
(so that this weakening empire will have nothing
to hold over it’s sugardaddy’s head),
China,
who holds the purse strings---
go
to
the
library &
get some Mandarin CD’s to listen to/study,
because it’s only a matter of time.
As with many dreams, I do not understand the dream I had last night. On the night of December 19, 2007, I dreamed about a candidate for President of the United States. I dreamed that he was the recipient of a strong spiritual awakening. In the dream, it was evident that it was not a political ploy, but was sincere and truly genuine.
I do have a pull toward governors because of their prior experience and administration abilities. Also, Although it matters, I am not very concerned about the candidates' religion. It also concerns me about their marital success or the lack thereof. In addition, I like candidates that are fiscal conservatives with flekibility and pragmatism with regards to social issues.
This country needs more balance with regards to military interventions. We seem to swing too far to the left/right extremes. We must defend America's way of life and our vital interests around the world. However, it is time for both parties and all Americans to reclarify and redefine what our vital interests are.
We can be proud of the fact that we have always sought to discover, invent, and innovate new ideas and new ways of doing things. I believe that we have led the way in making the world a better place in which to live. May our fathers' God show us the way out of our present wilderness.
This dream will force me to take a closer look at the candidates. We are clearly at a new crossroad in the quest for a God fearing, peaceful,, and properous America. Perhaps this dream also portrays a longing for a rebirth in the hearts of all Americans.
The high level of prosperity that we have experienced in America has not silenced the cries of the human heart. Could it be that I have seen a preveiw, not of a particular candidate, but of America's new leader, whomever he might be? Or could it be that America has come to a place in our history whereby every fiber of our being is crying out for a new awakening?
I cannot interprete the meaning of my dream or what it might signal; but I can say with certainty that it is most crucial that we be vigilant in employing our next leader. cj122007 (Edited and condensed for PS, 10012016)
I finished high school in the 60's, a decade of 'Change and Revolution'. Got married in the 70's, the decade of 'Accountability and Resolution'. Yes, I became a man in the 70's, a college graduate, a father, a voter, a missionary pastor, and a homeowner. The decade of the 70's was like building a foundation and a platform in anticipation of the decade of the 80's.
The 80's was a decade of 'Reconstruction, Reconsideration, Reconciliation, and Revision'. The 80's, also a decade of Fiscal Responsibility, Vision, and Expansion, gave birth to the formation and rise of the Reagan Democrats. I suspect that Jimmy Carter was no match for the 80's because the 80's ushered in his defeat at the hands of Ronald Reagan, who also took on The Air Traffic Controllers and weakened the hands of America's Strong Labor Unions. The Spring of '81 brought us the failed assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan who nearly died but recovered and went on to become a great president who said to the head of the Soviet Union, "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall". There were great catches, great runs, great tackles, and great touchdowns as the 80's brought the rise and reign of the San Francisco 49ers. In the late 70's, Americans were captured and held hostage in Iran and released in the early 80's. My first vote for a Republican presidential candidate was cast in 1980 for Ronald Reagan. Our third and last child was born in 1981, and after moving to Sacramento in '86, unable to find work in Sacramento. I commuted to San Francisco for two and a half years. The Aids epidemic broke out in the 80's, and suddenly the sexual revolution was being brought to, if not a halt, at least a pause. Early on with very small attendance, an Aids Seminar was held at our church.
10132018PoSoupContest, Remembering The 80's, Michelle Faulkner
I've felt it said
here
time and again
That a personal issue
is also about political tissue
reconnecting economic responsibilities
risks
opportunities fiscal
annual
perennial
Centers of felt pleasure
and good humor
are Passions,
not only small
and great transitional
but resonantly
resiliently multi-anecdotal,
Excluding all DisPassions
DeGenerations
and humorless passions
actively resisting future dispassions,
loss
suffering
mortality
and all that dualistically dark stuff,
sensory tissue memories
of sacred issue images
My peculiar ecosystem
co-empathically admiring Ultra NonViolet
rainbow
spectrally ionic Heaven
multiculturing emergent organic
ironic Paradise
And personal political insider trading
in Gospel EmPowering PassionStories
co-emerge eco-Paradise here
with ego-Pleasure now,
sacred place
with historically enculturing
triangulated
bilateral
tipping pointed hierarchical
and reverse root systemic revolutionary
upside-down
EarthHealth PleasurePower
anticipating more HeavenWealth ParadiseLight
win/win peace-viral
evolutionary PanSensory
bicamerally enlightened
eco/ego double-binary
unboundaried trans-empowerment.
And so I try to co-discern
discuss
cooperatively dialogue
about whom I am supporting,
investing in,
and why
I might reasonably expect
mutual win/win health/wealth outcomes.
And, on the other hand,
when such mutual intention becomes
and belongs within anti-losePleasure/loseHumor
transparently shared limits,
then it is time to set chronic stressed
win/lose compromises
anticipations
evolutionary theories
existential angst
depressions
negative impressions aside
To grab hold
of cooperative
systemic con-celebrating revolutions
toward transliturgies enlightening
empowering
re-ligioned win/win
SecularLeftMinded/SacredRightHearted
ego-impassioned EarthHealth Justice
resolutions
Embracing Pleasure
and Paradise,
Power
and Light,
Earth
and Heaven,
Secular
and Sacred,
Deductive
and Inductive
cooperative GoodHumor,
within NonZero-Soul's ubiquitous remainder.
Entrance into the Garden of Eden
An Exit Oft Repeated in Four Acts
By Sy Roth
Act 1—Somnolence
Smells of winter tickle a warm sun.
Crisp air,
Red, brown and yellow leaves,
Thrust the trees aside for their impending sleep.
They all come to the dance brushed
Content to revel in the gift of a cool early morning,
The commuter moms wave queenly to their spouses
The kindergartners snuggle at their mothers’ thighs
The yellow buses creep along the streets like multi-legged caterpillars.
They all bend their knees
With uplifted arms
They stretch in a free-day yoga plie.
The balance of warm sun and falling leaves,
Comforts them into a somnolent sleep
Cats resting on windowsills dreaming of nothing
But belly rubs when they awake
And the mothers remind themselves of the need for toothpaste at the local CVS,
While they ignore morning headlines that shout of a fiscal-cliff fall.
Act II—The Awakening Asp
Miles away a mother dies in bed alone.
Her dreams lay in bloody splatters on her morning pillow,
The house bellows silence afterwards.
Task one, a bloody heap of compensation for their silence.
He prepares to meet the crisp morning also,
To grab the low-lying fruit which hangs lusciously ripe in his mind,
Green fruit of the loin
Slathering beast of his senses
Giving way to knowledge.
The asp in his frozen garden sibilates silent messages
He happily complies,
Runs his tongue over his sandpaper rough teeth,
A fava-bean violence rests in the venomous one
Spits his triumph at the world.
Acts III—The crossroads meet
Garden of wishful dreams meets at 9:30 a.m.
Sounds of enthusiasm settle in in the lush green garden.
The air like a popped balloon
Is eaten by gunshots and screams.
A boy reacts in fear, in Room 303, and
She comforts him
Shoos the ghost from the room,
but it is insistent.
She hugs the boy closer,
Trigger pulled,
She brings him closer,
Conjoined twins in their new hell.
Act IV—Finality
He leaves for other gardens,
Remain in a loving embrace
All dreams flop flaccid to the floor.
I am writing to ask you about yourself
And your family in Nigeria and other black countries.
I have seen the bitter difference here;
The difference between Nigeria and other countries,
Then tears stream down from my eyes as I watch
My people in sorrow and suffering--
I cried as I watched the development here and
Looking back home I remembered our dark streets
And, the roads in tears of potholes and refuse.
Here I am, there is constant power supply,
Good road Network; free from potholes and dirties.
The street lights are working and the drainage
Channels are well strutured like those at Onitsha.
We have an enjoyable atmosphere; free from
Polluted air and polluted water unlike our country.
The government are more interested in Revenue generation rather than revenue sharing and aloitment of public funds.
Everyone is involve in the building of the nation,
They promote fiscal discipline, job creation and economic growth, sport development, restoring confidence in their health sector;
Championing peace, ensuring gender equality and woman empowerment, stabilizing the strength of their sub-region, empowering the youth to be productive home and abroad and,
The educational sectors are not abandoned to strike.
Here I am with tears for our beloved country;
The country whose leaders concentrated more on oil
And abandoning the other sphere of the economy.
Then, we were the highest cocoa producing country but another wiser has taken the glory from us.
Years back, we were the highest oil producing country in Africa but Angola has taken over.
We are no longer producing yam and other Agricultural products.
What happens next if the oil wells dry up tomorrow?
Friend, I have seen the different in my quest for greener pasture.
Tomorrow only can tell where we are going-
Say me well to your family, hope to hear from you
Tales of my country, my craving ears await you.
WILLIAMS
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
#Nigeria# Africa#Tale of poetry#
Senor's wealth management...
battered pinata like
Yours truly courtesy servitude
tethered existence suffers neck
brunt of yoke
fiscal recklessness got me woke
within cosmic schema,
a mere infinitesimal speck.
Insolvent crisis principally bespoke
interestingly enough
caught me off balance
sudden pennilessness
(dollar short/ day late dada)
analogous to vice grip
stranglehold doth choke
coffers emptied
willy-nilly Okey doke
colorblindness
fundamentally governed me
into zombified state
thus another plaintive plea
I repeatedly, lamely, and feebly evoke
meaning remuneration welcomed
courtesy altruistic generosity, magnanimity
and philanthropy humble
anonymous Lake Woebegone folk
ideally Norwegian bachelor farmers
to alleviate fiasco from fiendish
fraudsters frazzled father.
In plain (Schwenksville speak)
broken English,
I fell prey to hustlers
audacious, ferocious, malicious,
voracious, zealous tricksters,
who stealthily found entry
into my Macbook Pro
and locked computer screen
with threatening implication
security of mine private domain
awash with byte size bits
of valuable information
at risk of being tampered
with or obliterated.
Analogous to eminent domain of yore
mine digital terrain
manifest destiny meant war
virtual flesh and blood
regarding these lovely bones
yours truly gussied up
as chargé d'affaires
sent on risky (business) dutiful tour
to inflict comeuppance on him
who rendered me poor
as a Unitarian Church mouse,
plus I recruited
offspring of one of countless
related German Shepherd dogs
featured in fictional stories
on film, radio and television,
who starred as Rin Tin Tin reincarnate
belonging to elite K9 Korp
receiving unexpected support
courtesy end of gum
(cryptic message for ye
to chew on) sympathizers
voluntarily boosted success
at recouping major financial setback
my morale viz extempore.
We have the left; we have the right.
In the political arena they both fight.
Always claiming to be on our side,
With ferocious rhetoric, opponents they deride.
Vote for us, to be saved from a vicious clan’s
Reckless and dangerous life ending plan.
So now it’s up to you and I
To decide, who is right and who tells lies.
Now I don’t know what works for you.
I judge not what they say; rather what they do.
For talk is cheap and taxes ain’t.
I’m in support of fiscal restraint.
Now this is a fact for all posterity;
A nation can’t spend itself into prosperity.
Both sides know that this is true.
But look at what the charlatans do.
They simply make a language adjustment;
Government spending renamed as investment.
So now it’s up to you and I
To decide, who is right and who tells lies.
The finger of accusation is pointed;
As our nation becomes disjointed.
Now both sides in self-righteousness claim;
The other side is the one to blame.
I’m not sure how you deduce,
But I look at the fruit they produce.
Who supports phony investigations;
The sole evidence of their own making.
Who supports keeping people in places;
Dividing them up into different races.
Who believes they can legislate prosperity;
Ignoring all of human history.
Who believes it a proper choice;
To slay the unborn who have no voice.
So now it’s up to you and I
To decide, who is right and who tells lies.
Media acts in a partisan manner,
Thus, I ignore their constant clamor.
People throwing bombs and firing weapons;
The very definition of insurrection.
When people gather to show disgust.
That is what is defined as a protest.
There are few neutral voices.
Everyone is always spinning choices.
So now it’s up to you and I
To decide, who is right and who tells lies.
The rich fare so poorly
in completely divesting of the gold chains
Losing it all ... casting away
the luster of the pearly platinum
family portraits on the baroque mansion,
spiral stairway wall
The copper savings ... deposit daub
straw crumbs,
that built the foundation of it all,
starts to totter and fall
When accumulations begin to fail,
put the diminished sprawl
money sign up for sale
Cashing out prematurely ...
losing it all
It's the fatal heart attack,
before the disappearing assets
hit zero
And the cancelled checks
start bouncing back
There are no bankrupt heroes
This penny dreadful thought
gives the wealthy
Freddy Krugerrand nightmares
Leaving the golden nest behind ...
to wing it pauperously alone,
is a wallet tear, safety net falling out
Parachute pursed lips don’t ever
reveal all —
Where the secret stash is mnemonic hid,
in case of an emergency landing
liquidity call ... phantom accounts off-the-grid
Covertly cashing out,
don’t leave much room for
mint condition doubt
Keeping a stuffed mattress attitude,
it’s poor manners to be
obnoxiously soup-line bourgeois rude
Maintain fiscal proletarian discipline;
looking fo’ mo’ easy-open vault,
capital idea opportunities
to reinvest the debt reset default
Staying on a silver cloud
at all cost
Means rushing headlong to a sky precipice,
bullishly fretting fearful
of a bearer bond, bear market free-fall
Piggy bank 401k squeals
be just another Poor & Standard
snout pocket poke to the profit-strapped chin
No-frills credit rating T-note bills
are being dividend, early retirement cashed in
It’s all down-low, bankroll covert action ...
‘cause everybody know
that being milk poppy poor is a withdrawal sin