Long Invoice Poems
Long Invoice Poems. Below are the most popular long Invoice by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Invoice poems by poem length and keyword.
Spirited meeting, don't faint
Real or surreal, it is momentary, as cannot stay long on the same plane
Want to protect from mirthless life's winding chimes
Only if it was easy as mending the book's spine
Rarely lurking demons underneath the bed
Don't waste yourself peeking beneath the bed
Blindfold daydreaming,lines you up to heaped relics of unsung martyrs in a sepulcher
Starkly outshine rabid prince makes shy away the vulture
Never be too soft or daft
Not completely at fault, for programmed specimen of the mightier craft
Amidst the bantering on lease
Just don't succumb to the whisper of inherited guilt please
In summation to any wrong answer
Even rustling waft of your ashes will be sneezed at
Don't plug out the sound of closing doors
Sign to focus on the right one just designed for you
Betide as it was destined
Brush frivolous talk aside as choice is destiny's invoice
Essential to periodical diuresis of precarious enslavement
Rejoice to all sensations, before obfuscated by life's retirement
In the village the rooster crows at noon
because morning has been postponed.
The sun sits on a crate behind the store,
smoking, waiting for instructions.
Woe to us, says the old woman
who sells candles shaped like saints.
She lights one for justice,
but it drips sideways
and sets fire to the price list.
In the town hall they have a machine
that washes words.
You put in “theft,”
it returns “adjustment.”
You put in “hunger,”
it returns “diet.”
The mayor smiles with newly laundered verbs.
Last week they buried a lie
with full honors.
The priest cleared his throat
and called it “a complicated truth.”
The choir sang softly
so the dirt would not feel accused.
I went to the river.
It was carrying empty bottles
and one small mirror.
I looked into it and saw my own mouth
rehearsing agreement.
Woe to that mouth, I said,
and the fish scattered like punctuation.
At night the cows kneel in the field.
They know something about gravity.
They chew darkness patiently.
They do not rename the grass.
In the bakery, bread rises beautifully.
It smells of childhood and policy.
You break it open
and a thin dust escapes,
like a parliament of flour
voting itself white.
Woe to the clever ones
who weigh the wind
and invoice the horizon.
Woe to the rest of us
who clap because the echo is warm.
But under the shed, in a cracked bucket,
a seed has begun its stubborn prayer.
No committee approved it.
No slogan protected it.
It split itself in two
without asking what to call the dark.
Call evil evil,
says the rooster again,
late, hoarse, magnificent.
Call good good,
before the dictionary grows teeth
and eats the field.
Morning will not attend meetings.
It will simply arrive,
mud on its boots,
and stand in the yard
until we recognize it.
I have forsaken all to be with thee
might those I had created
and
there mothers be secondardary to
my needed
now I may speak of in tenses
that I have curse the
foods of her table as
(wHoop: Hooga;hooga< Ployed!)
with thyn Roosters
as (put, ting: plerb!)
and there Hens
Whoomp: ah Lumpa Whooga!)
Our Wedding
Hour Wedding
Suite Our oh Sayer
Plung: Plung: Pling
The invoice for dah
Clothes from
the Fat-People Store
or the Phat Peoplesz Stow
what ya'll talking bout?
Exploration into The Construction of "Father's Door "
A new concept City. Which with have a townseat named
Mother Apron. The place is beleived to create a manmade waterfall
and a man made volcano
that will house a water treament. A plant to build and sell
Crate and Barrel dwellings
that will suport mid poverish lifestyles.
This promagram is designed to use materails that support warmth and are easily cool
Equipment is half of the national avergae
meaning new compact equipment to regulae. Compact frigs, compact
washer, dryers
Written: September 29, 2023
____________________________________________________________
Walking through the corridors of my dream,
Down the boulevard of anguish, it seems,
Breathing in the knell of an unreadable sky,
Haunt Harbinger hypostatization, holding high
Dimly lit guests, snow troopers, and a piano key
Playing a dismal dirge, an internal funeral melody.
Insightful memories on the dark side warn us
Anger and passion, the cusp of nuclear dourness
Letters written in sepia script, a child's scare
In this circumstance, an illustration of despair
A startled, hoary invoice manifests in the mail.
Chaste in Gulag, cognizant of the time roll on stale
Shattering and breaking through the glass box.
The axe grooves on raw wood and blocks.
A misheard song, carefully shattering a splash.
The spear is reflected in the water by a slash.
Hope mirrors shake fate spears to consume.
A rare bedazzlement, a reflection of optimism.
Swords of inertia rattle, eager for consumerism.
But I drudge, unfazed, in this dream, I resume
Where the power of a single act of kindness
Can shatter darkness and bestow brightness.
I walk on, carrying the weight of the past.
But never forget that it won't last.
In this dream, I find solace and peace.
In the midst of chaos, pain, and cease
The blue sky is melting into green.
A symbol of hope, of a raw scene.
Witty Cupid makes flowery bow
also, sharp aromatic arrow,
always ready to throw
on lovers who don’t make haste.
Being introvert, they hesitate,
Feeling shy, they can’t taste
romance of love at best.
Cupid brings the solution.
He imposes emotion,
blowing breeze of passion.
Zealous in his mission.
None, but cute Cupid.
He acts prompt and rapid,
keeps weather clear, nor humid,
very clever not at all stupid,
sending Love-Glance as invoice.
Couple to dance and rejoice.
Giggling in cheerful voice,
flow of kisses, only choice.
Witty Cupid makes flowery bow.
12/12/17
I remember when I was a little younger I was thirty-one I was self-employed had my own business But being a child of God I choose to allow my thought process to change being a servicer clientele customers car dealerships a small businessman a mom and pop shop the business I inherited from my dad he had died so now his job was mine
So searching soul searching like any former marketing inflation is the enemy of the people higher prices hurt their already empty pockets so to minimize the law I too had to be practical higher cost s for my supplies I too felt I had to raise my prices that I charge the business start automotive dealership a small price increase and when I verbally told my client this he cheesely looked me in my eyes and my face and he said no way no thank you he bladedly treated me like a child so he said telling me what I can't and cannot do almost borderline un professional with The surety he was telling me a private self-employed business owner that I could not and would not raise my prices that I charge for his to his bigger business so I left his office the office of the used car manager and like the vehicles that I service that I drive away I opened my eyes and closed my mouth I walked then drove away later that day been the quietness I listened I witnessed I thought about it I sat down at my little office and I wrote I typed up a proposal it was a detailed professional invoice a short detailed description of my services I increase an increase yes indeed though my approach at first was nice and admirable and his approach was borderline vulgar openly disrespectful again I say I walked away got in my car I took the high road you know sometimes silence is golden so I as I mailed submitted my new proposal inking paper at my dismay I typed up a new invoice for the weekly pay into my surprise not really though on the weekly check from all that I did that week my price increase was okay sometime you need to let your voice be silent sometimes just get out of the flood need to take the high road -this is when I took the highroad
10/24/21
FOR THE HIGH ROAD POETRY CONTEST
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh
Look who's now looking when things fall apart;
Oblige the lacking in things left undone;
Invoke the slacking as lazy upstarts;
Trust your reckoning to corrupt your pun;
Ending is starting to be frightening;
Reach for the scary moments that hurl lack;
Invoice your tearing for random straining;
Notice the dreary figments in playback;
Give your weakness time to capture the vain;
Ask to suppress blues that bleed yet more fears;
Mangle the bleak chimes that gather more pain;
Appease your sad dues with urgency clear;
Zest drains away now in melancholy;
Empty sad endow life's mad tragedy.
Leon Enriquez
07 June 2014
Singapore
Amazon sent us a hundred and seventeen dollars’ worth of vitamins
For women over fifty; which I most certainly am.
I took them yesterday, and they perked me up.
I thought I was already perky, but I was wrong.
I was flying around as if I had taken speed.
Speedy Gonzales, except in Irish mode.
My red hair is no proof; I dye it this color.
No one has burgundy hair naturally.
But back to the original thought.
Amazon thought it had sent us puppy chow.
The invoice said fifteen dollars’ worth of puppy chow.
My husband called them; they told us to keep the vitamins.
Good thing, as I had taken several of them.
I am still hesitating about the mushroom extract.
I despise mushrooms except morels fried by my mother.
And she is dead, so this is not happening.
Someone else is probably furious
with their fifteen dollars’ worth of puppy chow.
Not my problem.
Curbside are snapshots of revelation
they invoice the passing
as stations upon a cross, or rosary beads
from the corners of hard driven eyes.
We count the faces of onlookers like cars
for they count us not,
or may enter our speeding vehicles
as flashes of sunlight upon glass.
Roadside, is a rotting log
sporting small dainty flowers
amid exhaust fumes.
Roadside, both the living and killed
turn in a part glimpsed mobile
reflecting our own brief leaving.
We move too fast to see it all,
layers return as later onlookers
when the car ticks warm and parked.
There is a strange abashment in speed,
a tomorrow-ness in the momentary watch
of those we pass.
The world becomes a known stranger
met on the tip of hastily thrown spear.
We distracted tourists
drive into the heart of questions.
Mind intones our place in time,
a fresh moment we have yet to arrive at,
one in which
we did not crash and burn in - just yet,
and tomorrow waits
to begin another new odyssey.
I drop off my car in anticipation,
That it doesn’t require, complete restoration.
‘You’ll have it by two’ the young lady said
Then I am told it’s five thirty instead.
They text a report, the news is not good
Do I have to confirm? I am told that I should!
For the break pads are worn, the suspension is shot,
The tyres threadbare and the engine’s too hot.
The exhaust has a hole and the brake fluids low,
The clutch is a slipping and the wipers too slow,
The paintwork is poor and the bonnet is dented,
Should’ve had it in sooner, this could have been prevented.
It’s an arm and a leg when the invoice arrives,
Which I have to pay or my car I’m deprived!
Now the automobile’s a fairly recent invention,
But these service costs surely weren’t the intention!