Long Greenbacks Poems
Long Greenbacks Poems. Below are the most popular long Greenbacks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Greenbacks poems by poem length and keyword.
dang,
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
killer-diller
khaki wacky boycrazygirl
a spiffy hot damn hoofer
during the dark hours of WWII
and the devastation
followed with
unrestrainedjubibilation
beat me daddy eight to the bar
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
franksinatracrooner
singing grandma put on her stompers
she was a babydoll soppysappysharp
a spiffy hot damn hoofer
worked in a factory
building partsforairplanes for the boys
no siree bob she was not giving up her job
she had
dreams
a white picket fence
in the
boondocks
grandma was-
a spiffy
hot damn
hoofer
no gobbledygook she told great stories
of what it was like
after the war forthetroops and all
pin-up girls like Marilyn Munroe
Elvis
Roy Orbison
Jerry Lee Lewis
drive-ins
fancy wheels ovaltine
casablanca goingmyway its a wonderful life
for whom the bell tolls earnesthemmingway
it was a time of attitude
no fuddy-duddy she had the gams
met grandpa doingtheswing
they had no lettuce moolah greenbacks
but they
were over the top
stuck on glued
bonkers in love oh grandma had
no fear of saying hi-de-ho
he said hey sugar are you rationed
dang
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
killer-diller
kacky wacky boycrazygirl
take a gander withyourpeepers
at this thingamabob poem
____________________________________
June 2, 2015
Free Verse
Inspired by the slang of the 1940's
For the contest, Talk the Talk and Walk the Walk, sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
First Place
...For two weeks Lester worked that pyrite vein,
and every day a brand new dollar came,
at the end he hug dug out two cart’s worth,
said Higgs, “Now that’s enough work in the earth.”
He smiled proud, they dragged it to the trains,
Lester still sure the old man was insane,
once loaded up, he said, “I will return
in six months to see you get all you’ve earned.”
He saw him off, thinking that that was that,
the man was mad, but his wallet was fat,
Lester had coin to live another month,
jobs came and went, he needed a new one.
Some laughed at him for digging up fool’s gold,
friendly ribbing, if all the truth be told,
he didn’t mind, and got a good story
to tell people when out drinking whiskey.
Come wintertime, Lester was at the bar,
Higgs and his mine from Lester’s thoughts were far,
he shot the bull with several local guys
when the door open, and all were surprised.
There stood Mad Higgs, shaking off winter snow,
he saw Lester, and to him he dig do,
and on that bar, in front of half the town
a thousand dollars in greenbacks slapped down.
All eyes went wide at such a stack of cash,
Higgs said, “Now partner, I say you earned that!”
The tumult came, people confused and loud,
over and over, they just asked him, “How?!”
Higgs just smiled, “I said that I’d be back,
spent half a year selling it from my sack
to the children, those precious girls and boys,
yes, my pyrite was their new favorite toy!
“They like shiny things, no one need be told,
and loved to play with rocks that look like gold.
The girls pretend that it’s their jewelry,
the boys pretend that they are rich, you see.”
The men in the bar then all clambered ’round,
cried how they’d like to help him work the ground,
but Higgs said, “Loyalty I do reward.
stay health, Les. Come spring we will dig more.
“Next time Ill give you forty percent share,
but now I have to run, so folks, take care!”
He walked out of the bar to catch a train,
he wasn’t mad, just cagey with his game.
Now for this winfall Lester gave great thanks,
invested most in mines, ranches, and banks,
until he could survive of dividends,
not have to labor each day like most men.
But two weeks of the year when Higgs returned,
he’d go that shaft, and his dollar earn,
dig out pyrite for Higg’s to take and sell,
a fortune of fool’s gold, so people tell.
I will weep my heart out,in the shade!
There won't be an end to Roe vs Wade!
Abortionists need dead infants's tissues
For a "vaccine" and our government does not tthink that, an issue?
Death, blood clots, you get, they do not care.
You, in a tomb, they get their greenbacks share!
Ah, that vaccine shot in your arm.
The dream that only you and nobody else, protected from harm?
Integrity is on grand holiday.
People so frightened, even will give their lives away.
Of side effects, we never hear.
We joyfully roll up our sleeves and go out later for an ice cold beer.
From sheer fear and phony medicine, people,shall never stop.
Easier, and no thinking to get a shot, is it not?
No due diligence, on your part?
Just hope andget the magical, infallible, arm dart!
Never told once…it destroys immune system and heart.
Thus we avoid anti_vaxxers, that most dangerous lot.
Freedom of choice! No not for you,
“My body, my choice” reserved for only the pro-death crew!
6~7~2021
Marbles rolling among gasses.
through the black passes;
dynamic wormhole universal flight;
etheric ghosts ride to the light.
Soul in a dream state,
spectre awaiting checkmate.
Fall into the lion’s mouth,
slide on down south.
Animals to guide you through,
abyss of many colored hues;
revealed secrets hiding deep,
within recesses, up they creep.
Deep within the glass revealed,
answers await a calling peal.
Lighting candles pierce the black;
revealing secrets in greenbacks.
When bells are tolled, all’s said and done,
beneath an orange and mocking sun;
truths no longer hidden lie;
within all-seeing, glassy eye.
1-26-2022
A STRAND (1060) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
My times shorter than a Butterflies Lifespan
I sold them quarters at a time and I tried them
Chased them down with Vitamens
Never bowed down to an idol
Oh I don't forget on the coffee table is a Bible
Have you ever seen a demon the size of a Dinasaour
Well I cut em down when i slice the sword
Sleep with my Sheild of Faith on
When I'm angry hatas stay the F@#k out of my way
I'm ready to blow em up like Blum at the quarry
Don't you think i have been nice too
Well i will flip the switch if they entice me
And even though I don't like fighting i will at the drop of a hat
I'm begging for a mofo to knock some sense into me
A Seashell comes with these three
JMC, Well I'll take em to AMD
Give em some treatment they been needing
Oh wait this ain't the season
I perfer them to have bigger demons
Well I'll feed them like I feed the phienes then
To me it ain't nothing to my inconveience
Well I switch up, I'm endebted to her and I will pay it in flesh or blood
I'm bringing greenbacks back it don't matter
Theres a rock sitting here in my sling shot
And you know I ain;t ashamed to say Gods my rock
NO! I'm not at all hesitating
My mind is strong, I'm pulling chrome
Coming home and coming
Dice these ho's up take em over the scales and sell em as shredder feed
Oh! these boys gonna feel the shrapnel coming from my Bombshell
I go behind enemy lines and i sneak up behind them
And i would love to go to war with him over here the forest is lovely
But now you see I'm being calm i'm controling my anger
Purple neon lured the leery into the shop’s maw.
Aged asphalt tiles buffed by an old brush-spinner reflected the loot.
The bits and pieces of people’s lives, hung on pegs, or hid behind glass.
Ashamed, ashamed of the negligence of their owners, lost, lost,
most never would return home, unlike the Velveteen Rabbit.
They were not real.
Only items of some value arrived here.
Into the belly of the beast, for their owners had been truly gutted.
Each shelf and case, each peg and hook, a repository for the
flotsam and jetsam of someone’s life, lost,
pay-back for misspent youth and the poverty of age.
They were not real.
Sometimes, on brighter days their delinquent owners would return,
greenbacks in hand, tears in their eyes, and a stray bit would be retrieved.
These bits were ALMOST real, with a bit more love maybe,
they’d both be real.
Are we the shade of the shadow
or a shadow in the shade.
Are we sashaying toward pinhole dreams?
While trudging above an open grave.
It all seems like a giant garish gothic play
acts and players hand-picked centuries in advance.
Hobbled masses humbly kneel on crumbs to pray.
Realizing opinion nor ballot was ever worth a damn.
These two-legged, greedy, greasy snakes.
Eyes made of slag have no vacancy signs.
Clogging up our gossamer soul veins.
They're here to minimize, intimidate.
Project, disappear, dismiss, assassinate.
Straitjacket the masses with normalized madness.
We, the people, are not the ones playing God.
Poisoning water, field, sky...
Smiling in the light while eating innocents.
In the shadow of ritual and sacrifice.
These devils openly mock and taunt us now.
(byproducts of a boiling swamp).
Yellowing the face of flailing freedom.
A billion greenbacks can galvanize
such audacity and shallow bravery.
Of these deeply soiled oligarchs
and pathetic plastic kings.
Ever since I experienced being significantly monetarily sidelined...
(how about that topic for a change of pace?)
Yes back to getting walloped, decked
and clubbed courtesy cold hearted brute,
who casually, glad handedly, and royally
flushed out mine tailored pricey suit
wherein every pocket
once stashed, and lined with loot.
Ever since scamming imbroglio
(three weeks ago today -
July eleventh two thousand twenty three)
yours truly, a formerly
happy go lucky wordsmith
immune to the plethora
of devious shenanigans
courtesy predacious traitors
to the bywords of honesty and integrity
scamper away with laundered money.
Mine fantasy modus operandi to cope
regarding falling prey
to hoax gullible guy
to surrender crisp greenbacks
entrapment like a dope
no matter poet of Penn Valley
at the end of his figurative rope,
when fraudsters shill and scope
out crosshairs stunning
persons exhibiting naïveté
the following escapist ploy adopted.
E'er since I (a reincarnated cavalier
or gentleman snubbed
by sought after Southern Belle)
at night suicidal ideations
visit psyche as haunting spectre
sublimated death wish
permeates thru mine every cell
courting the grim reaper
to carry me back to carry
me back to Old Virginny,
where lovely bones
of me Confederate ancestors dwell
upon bloody fields farewell
to arms and legs
mounted battlefields when groundswell
of internecine warfare
made life on earth
wind and fire created a living hell
he who fleeced me
vengeance doth impel
to imagine him gunned down
as enemy numero uno.
Moribund courtesy online heist
me entire being feels
chopped, minced, and appallingly diced,
hence no surprise
sheepishly admitting to ewe
how yours truly still feels blue
aghast at passivity prevailed
how grievousness flourishes
checking and savings accounts
frankly zapped analogous
how David regarding Goliath he slew,
yet impossible mission
to know your enemy
with absolute zero details,
cuz the fly by night scamp
flat out sold pack of lies
of course I voluntarily
must admit straightaway and true
mine fingers converted cash
to bitcoin currency
yet entranced, kickstarted, seduced
as Harvey Specter
did courtesy sotto voce woo.
I'd like to walk the Great Wall of China someday.
It's near the top of my bucket list.
My greenbacks would be used by communists.
Against my country, and I'll not have it.
A small ripple of defiance (like tank man).
Enough ripples and the Chinese people
may get to sing a little bit.
God bless the People of China.
The Dalai Lama is not welcomed there.
He's been in exile since he was a child.
He's not welcome because he has quiet power.
To weave a billion tank people together.
And the commies are petrified of that.
I'll never go to China because Dog is on the menu.
I hear they boil, then skin them while they're still alive.
I couldn't imagine stumbling upon a wet market
and hearing the screams of (Xi) dogs.
Tank Man was led away by the commie police.
Never heard from again.
God Bless Tank Man.
She was born straddling a pair of ruby-eyed dice
weaned on black alleys and salty blue smiles-
Wild cat coaxing greenbacks from denim-lined crags
riding hard-driving far-diving high-screaming brass-
Climbing steely mountains capped with pyrite hearts
she thanked a lost lord for tears that didn't glow in the dark-
For a time, she walked for miles along sunlit paths
which demanded pinches of patience and flakes of faith
neither of which her dream catcher could ever catch-
She died alone draped across a bent bottle cap thrown
trilobites and mad dogs marched out her Marlboro red throat-
Leaving stiletto scars on virgin faces of hope and eternity
that creamy queen of damnation with cherry-stained knees-
(2008)