Long In the money Poems
Long In the money Poems. Below are the most popular long In the money by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long In the money poems by poem length and keyword.
Life was hard in the money department
My parents had what was called a paid job
Just over basics it was evident
Someone else ate the corn, they got the cob
Life was grand, week to week we ate biscuits
There was sidemeat on our plate with syrup
The salt made the sweet dance by castanet
That simple food had what is called one-up
Then mother lost her job, more biscuits served
Hollyhock flour purchased by twenty pounds
Its brand name stamped across the sack in red
She bleached letters off, she didn't mess around
Fabric to make shirts for me to wear to church
Embroidered by a friend 'pon collar and sleeves
I wore them like a princess, now for them search
In my heart, and for those beautiful clothes grieve
Finis'
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Contest: Whatever Happened To Flour Sacks
I saw some flour sacks at Wal-Mart in the last few years
and it was only one time..I did notice that it cost more
to get the flour sacks..I remember when I began to
learn to sew that mother gave me flour sacks to
fancy up to put in my hope chest..I did a technique
where I pulled threads out which left an open weave
on the ends to make fancy dish towels..I also embroidered
them with fancy designs to put in my hope chest..When
I was newly married my mother-in-law would get flour
in a sack with a dish towel sewn into the end seam on it..
I guess one flour company trying to outdo another company.
Weary and lonesome
I wandered around to search for my Lord.
I was, however, unable to find the Lord
neither amongst mannequins in the busiest pedestrian traffic,
nor the amidst of majestic cathedral surrounded by the windows
with sacred images colorfully arranged on the stained glasses.
I roamed the dark street with candlelight in my hand,
but I found you not in the alley
between heavy-eyed buildings that are short and tall,
or the back lane between the mosaic of sleeping old and new houses.
I found you not in the empty market place
where the crowd returned to their home long ago,
carrying the baggage of stale stories
wrapped in the money traded with the uncertain tomorrow.
Exhausted from search of the Lord
I came and sat in the bar to empty the glasses,
however, the Lord was not in the glasses I emptied.
For I was tired of looking at the pile of glasses I emptied,
destroyed it, run out from the bar,
and stepped on the middle of the night’s moonbeam
and followed the footmarks the Lord left for the lonely souls.
When the wind rises by a solitary riverside the moonbeam ripples to wane,
and when I see the ripples of moonbeam the Lord comes:
to the field once I was visited and forgot a long ago,
to the field other side of the river where broken reeds stand,
to the abandoned field where the heap of sadness became the sands.
When the Lord crosses the river,
though no word is spoken, He stands by me
with open armed to welcome this wandering soul,
with full of tears in his eyes for the sake of this lonely
and deserted heart.
fine, you want me to be like the rest?
sure, I’ll speak just so… gee..you’re the best.
Honey, how big and fancy is your car! tee hee!
Money, wow so spendy in the flash you are! hehe!
Honey, pay some attention to me….
I painted my nails can’t you see?
Important details on my agenda
Said a honey in the money is a splendid…man.
Go fine yo’self one darlin’! Just be charm’in
but don’t mean it in the heart, no...
Not til the checks on the table from the start.
Wait… I’m sure it’s still not real enough…
Oh how i love you
loving love the way i do
all i do is become you
loving you is ALL i doooo….
missing you my heart does bleed
kissing you once was all i’d need…
oh blah and blah this lovely read
Yawwns… my echo…
Write, right, the stage was left
Cleft rift, if you get my drift
Sheez a canteena that went pretty swift
Cuz I see a patina on the apron’s Chef…
and if you ‘dont get this’ I dont give a sh.it.
:)
Wait, let me get back to what we do…
drama rama is the name of this show
Here we go… Springer, you got nuttin’ on me
Can’t you see? I’ve slept with my mother
when my brother was three and on TV, there was ****
Scorn in a show called Guiding Lite
That’s right, we watched the soaps
Moped and then eloped, into the night…
That story is worth a rating or two right?
teeheehee! Set us free…
I’m like you now and you like me.
:o
peas in a pod, let us commence to commiserate!
it’s a great… nod… yawwwn… sorry, were we on the subject of god?
Just, now?
I heard it was better then that.
Form:
A man of unquestioned probity in his community, stumbles upon
A hidden duffel bag in the woods while camping with his family
He pulls it out of the dirt and zips it open. The duffel bag
Is stuffed with $100 bills. He turns in the money, in full
To the authorities the next day. His honest deed earns him
Considerable, much-deserved kudos in the press. Unfortunately
He also gets the attention of an unscrupulous stranger, anonymously
Demanding "every last penny of my money back, or I'll...
Continue to make life a living hell for you and your family..."
A ruthless demand
Stranger wants his pound of flesh
Tough predicament
Date written and posted: 04/18/2019
This is a poem that is difficult to write because the world "leaders" seems intent on breaking our humanity and planet. I'm wondering when the abject carnage, blood, power and greed will be enough for them.
Dear War Dudes
By Michelle Morris
09/03/2026
Dear War Dudes,
How are you doing
Up there in your ivory tower?
How are you feeling
Gathering more and more power?
Have you considered the cost
Of every move you're making?
Have you considered the impact
On the world you're intent on breaking?
Are you drowning yet
In the blood that keeps on flowing?
Is the abject chaos exciting you
In the money and power growing?
Peace is possible
Do you know this?
Peace is preferable
Can you embrace its bliss?
Somewhere it's gotten lost
Your moral compass and your soul
Somewhere it's been turned off
Your heart, your compassion, your glow
Somewhere mothers are crying
More dead children - future's lost
Somewhere men are dying
Fighting for a war that keeps on costing
When will it be enough for you?
What does total surrender truly mean?
Are you happy to stomp on all life
In pursuit of your foolish dreams?
Have you thought about it at all
The balance sheet and loss of war?
What will you do next
When there's nothing left (to destroy) at all?
© Michelle Morris, 2026
Written By: D. Collins 3/4/19
A timeline and testimony can bring anyone down.
Even those who seem to think they wear a crown.
Bring in the money man and get him to flip.
Corroborate it with that Michael Cohen ****.
Think back to WikiLeaks and Trump's major speech.
He had a major announcement he'd spill next week.
Then he postponed it indefinitely.
Because he jumped out in front of WikiLeaks.
That's diarrhea of the mouth you can't take back.
When timeline and testimony line up with the facts.
As far as I'm concerned, there is no discussion.
We will find tax, bank, and insurance corruption.
It will start at the top, and trickle down to the kids.
All will be accountable for what they did.
Timeline and testimony is what Mueller already has.
While the SDNY is preparing to tax that ass.
St Francis Bay
Holiday Destination / Resort
Paradise astride the Indian Ocean
Eastern Cape
South Africa
But out of Season
A proverbial virtual Ghost Town
1 out of 10 Homes have there curtains drawn
Shut up until next season
Which begs the Question ??
Why if you owned 1 of these Places ?
Why would you ever choose to leave here ?
If you could afford to buy here in the 1st Place ?
Its the kind of place dreams are made of ?
Makes me wonder how great your life must be ?
If this is merely your Parking Space for Summer
This is merely my admission confession of Jealousy
I wonder if they know just how lucky they are ?
I wonder if so 2
My dream time rolling in the money will come true ?
Dreaming is Ok
But I would be lying if I did not admit
Id much rather prefer the real deal
Warts and All
Id rather be Rich than Poor
Good Looking over Funny
Clever than Thick
Tall rather than Short
Six Pack over Layers of Fat & Double Chin
And Oh Yes
To top off my wish list
A Massive
10 Inch Dicktionary
To Gloat About
Tell me something,
To all y’all young brotha's
How do you define a real nigga
Is it that dude that’s defiling women,
Drug dealing, robbing & stealing
Claims he’s big pimping, saying he a “G”
Cause he did like 6 months in a detention center.
Is that what you call real? These niggas ain’t real.
What about the niggas that’s
Taking care of their kids
Handling Grown man biz and
Yeah he might have did a couple bids
Something like a three year sentence
And that’s real I ain’t kidding
But y’all ain’t listening.
See ya perception of a real nigga is so messed up
By age 18 most of our brothers
Are gonna be dead or in bloody hand cuffs
You out here trying ya luck
Robbing for a little bit of paper
Stop believing these rap artist
These niggas ain’t gangsta.
Problem is these niggas is so scared to be somebody
Scared they gone see somebody
They so used to being nobody
They think hustling & catching bodies is actually a hobby
But you know what they say ya mind is ya worst enemy
So it got ya heart full of hatred, jealousy, & envy
Got you thinking you addicted to cigarettes this generation is so dizzy
And I’m part of it, trying to make a change
So far the moment I’m so busy.
These niggas so caught up in the money
They overlooking the trap
Niggas at war & beefing so heavy they can’t relax
Thinking nobody loves them
Tell me where’s the loving?
Racism exist believe it or not
Everybody’s holding grudges
They ain’t realizing we all
Brothers, sisters, & cousins
But In the hood it’s survival of the illest
So called thugs claiming they the realest.
These niggas ain’t real I’m telling you man
When you get locked up or catch a little sentence
See how many of ya homies come and visit
Uncle Frank got it right,
His ideas were quite bright,
He was seldom in financial plight,
As when things got tight,
He would sell things outright,
Not waiting till they fell apart,
And not worth a cent.
When Uncle Frank was again in the money,
He was never short of honey,
New gadgets, he bought a plenty,
His disposition always sunny,
Of debt, he barely had any.
Oh, why can't more of us be like Uncle Frank,
Seldom going to the bank,
Always having petrol in the tank,
Never throwing rubbish down the bank,
Making use of every plank,
Having time to play the odd prank.
Uncle Franks place was well worth a visit,
If on clean chairs you liked to sit,
Enough coal for a a fire to be lit,
No flies or rats to give you a fit,
Comics and Chocolates with the Kids a hit,
Adults thought it all a perfect fit,
When he produced his latest gadget.
Alas he is long gone now,
But he did show us how,
A mess not to grow,
To money, not have to borrow
And a sad face not to show,
When it was time for possessions to go.
When And Why
Concepts of right and wrong
White and black without the shades of grey
Where did those ideas come from?
Whose warped mind divided the world into two?
Murder is murder unless it is done on a battlefield?
Killing an unborn child is ok but only until it is born
It is okay for people to starve
But it isn’t legal to steal a love of bread to feed a family
Pets are left to waste away on the sides of the road
Or take them to a shelter and have them kill it for you
After all…it is painless to die
Animals can die for sport as long as they die running
It is okay as long as they don’t fight
People can be crippled for sport
It brings in the money
But we are told that it is not right to inflict injury
As long as the owners count their millions
It is alright to be a man until a woman wants your job
It is alright to be a woman until a foreigner takes your job
When did the world become so segmented?
So indecisive about what is right and wrong
When did we screw it all up?