Long Money Poems
Long Money Poems. Below are the most popular long Money by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Money poems by poem length and keyword.
My problems
include discomfort
with Money overwhelmingly talks
and talks
and talks political privilege
When not monopolistically
monotheistically
monoculturally screaming
about short-term survival issues,
international violation
of national resource systemic tissues,
long root ego-systemic win/lose fissures.
My Here/Now bigger
eco-empowering global system
concern,
our patriarchally uncivil
red-winged capitalist
runaway extractionist
EarthMother-rapist
climatic issue,
Suffering,
sense of epic historical
left and right winged cooperative loss,
Money's monopolistic verbing Voice
thereby unilaterally revaluing
safe EarthSurvival choice
in Her claustrophobic
polluted
soul starved
dehydrating
degenerating sacred Chamber
of my own monotheistic wombed
LeftBrain-ranting mind,
Thinking about safe short-term survival
when we would be more prudent
to cooperatively feel reassured
about our long-term global win/win
thrival of love-life on Earth--
including my own EgoIdentity
Which would not silence money's multi-polyenculturing
co-invested Voice,
empowering healthy democratizing influence
on health and safety EarthChange Choice,
Better
in a lower
and more resonant tone of resource key
for worshiping all EarthTribe Lives
copresent Here with Now
Also with those sacredly curious compassions before
and those naturally recycling nonviolent communions
yet to offer sufficient silence
So I might more actively hope to hear
our more cooperative
globally unmonetized thrival Voice
for restoring health wealthy climates
of green
HereNow
peace-graced Choice
through EarthTribe joyful justice
dynamic
living
flow-graced Change.
Smothered by doubt,
I claw to get out,
Scraping away shouting,
'What's this all about?"
Falling outside the lines,
They say I'm divine,
Yet I'm trapped in a vine,
Intertwined in a timeline,
That I didn't design,
I'm feeling benign,
Refining my reality,
Into a day I want to see,
I awaken only to find me,
Standing before the key,
That unlocks the mystery,
As history repeats itself,
Selfish desires rise,
Lighting fire to the prize,
My inner child cries,
I shout for my demise,
I'm wise to the trendsetter,
Doubting I could make it better,
Writing letters to the editor,
Trying to stop the predator,
Creditors knocking on the door,
Floored by the cost to be,
I hold the key to more,
I'm exploring what I'm here for,
Smothered by a need for more,
I fall back to the floor,
Stored emotions pour out,
Again I'm doubting what it's all about.
I was somewhere deep in Kansas,
on a Triumph 69’
When your song came on the jukebox,
and hit me from behind
I was headed for a bad place,
and cared for nothing much
When I heard the song ‘Melissa,’
my heart and soul were struck
Entranced, your lyrics captured me,
like nothing had before
When you sang about ‘The Gypsy,’
I headed for the door
But something made me turn around,
and grab another dime
Ten more times in that diner’s booth,
still lost within your rhyme
Now back inside the bus station,
and sleeping on the bench
I scratch your words into the wood,
last dollar gone and spent
My bike outside against the wall,
the kickstand now long gone
And out of gas, my hopes have dashed,
that unrelenting song
Waking up at ten unsettled,
across the street I pushed
The sign said Triumph-BSA,
the owner Mister Cush
He asked, “What’s with your motor,”
I said “nothing—out of gas,
“But worse I’m out of money,
can I sell the bike for cash
“Would you please just buy my Triumph,
I know it’s old and worn
“It got me here through seven states,
runs great both cold and warm”
“I’ll pay three hundred on the spot,
on that can we agree?”
We walked back up inside his shop,
three bills he handed me
I thought about a bus ride home,
my thumb looked more in line
Facing East on old route #50,
my heart in deep decline
The first big rig that came along,
was bound for York Pa.
The driver said “If you like dogs,
I’ll take you on your way”
In York I caught a fast ride out,
two ‘dodgers’ going North
And got back home with hat in hand,
your song to guide me forth
Two years then passed, I met my wife,
four more and our first child
And we named her ‘Sweet Melissa,’
her dad back from the wilds
Now forty years have come and gone,
my beard and hair both gray
I owe you Gregg, and always will,
your song, her name—that day
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
For Gregg Allman
I Sent This To Gregg In March 2016. It's on His Website.
We Spent Two Days Together In Richmond Va. In A
Blizzard In 1982.
Dust swirls heavily in the air
I choke on each painful breath.
Wailing cries from everywhere
mingled with blood and throes of death.
Turn cloak! You sneak off with jingling gold
singing some cowardly song.
No moral creed, no worthy code
a vile traitor you’ve been all along.
I will not die, not here, not now…
these grievous wounds aside.
I’ll hunt for you, and this I vow,
my vengeance shall not be denied.
So make your peace, you pathetic worm
together to hell we’ll abscond.
I’ll be your escort, if just to confirm
it’s the devil from whence you were spawned.
Who making acquaintance, shall mightily hiss,
your perfidious deeds he’ll revile.
Forever you’ll anguish in silent abyss,
to hell’s deepest circle, I’ll see you exiled.
And when you regret ever having been born
and seek desperately, an end to your strife,
I’ll come with a sneer, and a token of scorn:
the gold which you thought worth my life.
07/30/15
I remember the day very well-
I wrote whats hidden within me,
my short journey to the now;
that has no anger, pity- just
acceptance . . .
Just quiet acceptance for my destiny-
my future is set in stone,
the day I wrote my poem;
I knew my path- my fate
written . . .
All the paths taken or not-
the mistakes that will fade away;
all that matters dwells within me,
money will not- cannot change a
thing . . .
I will not waste time weeping-
but find my strength and courage;
what I need resides in me,
my life may be short, but
amazing . . .
____________________________
March 7, 2017
(and that comes from within, 2015)
Verse/Treasures Within
Copyright Protected, ID 882739
The Tale Of Your Best
Phillip Garcia
First Place
The voice or reason
Has fallen upon my deaf ears
As the hand of fate
Pushes me towards my blind ambitions
My illusions of grandeur
Have given rise to malicious intent
To obtain what can never be mine
The allure of its beauty and power
Overwhelms my sense of sanity
And pushes me towards the abyss
Only to be consumed by my hunger to posses it
My only purpose in this twisted reality
Of my so-called life is to hold it again
In my now black heart
But I have reaped what I have sown
And ended up with a harvest
Of pain and regret
Fate has dealt me that proverbial losing hand
And now I must swallow that bitter pill
And try not to choke on my own self-pity
How foolish to have squandered its wealth
And disgrace its purity,
Only now to be left poor and ashamed
For my stupidity and greed
So now here I am
Alone and left wanting
Left with nothing more
Than a hopeless Obsession
Form:
For Vicente Fernandez
The dirt
The sweat
The horses,
Saddles off,
Brushed.
The girl who thinks she is pregnant.
The woman who is.
The man with no money is his pocket
The man with pockets full.
The man who stumbles.
The women who watch.
The broken hearts
The soon to be’s
The finger waggers
The I-will-nevers
The I-told-you so’s.
But listen!
Everything stops.
The world and its noise
And clatter and-
He sings!
Listen!
You can hear
The sound of falling in love
The quiet flames filling space
And space and space again.
The skirts swirl
The men dance when they couldn’t before.
El Charro!
El Charro!
Nothing is wrong
When we hear your voice
Fill the night
Across our lonely plains
And valleys and mountains.
Turn up the radio
Turn it up loud-
Loud.
El Charro sings!
El Rey!
He sings!
prominent in high society
"spalla cotta" a dish for
people who love people
someone spoke.
leverages their status for wealth,
using other people money
and other peoples time
using debt for acquisitions
developing strategies with
proper risk tolerances to
avoid negative impacts.
He had sang "money note "
on a modern track, his
opea background made
him a star among these manys
they marveled at his freakish range
he need cash as his royalties hadn't
come through. He knew the collaberation
would cause enough stir to get both
him and those he collaberated with
to have the base and core fans and
industry partners to come and marvel
but to might they see fit to hire
and book them
As there effords were both meant to
showcase there talents and make money.
They were looking to top charts.
They refused to conversate on certain things
and agreed to talk of the venture
proposed to them.
Cherries and strawberry's
with tarrogan and lemon balm and basil
to become a moonshine and fruited
sensation. People will love the flavor.
It will be trending for a long time
a product that could keep the interest
of people
everywhere
every note and detail
each role defined in full respect to music
and the audeince it generates
they wanted something orginal
to keep the sound endearing.
the rythmn guy's will do r-g guy thangs
the pop-fav's will do there pop-thang
groovey grinder will groove-grind
the cool-country swagg will chill soothingly.
"you know banger-Bop-Beat and track etc. etc. etc!
Eager to succeed: eager to try!
De Capo meaning from your head your mindful thoughts
spoken to a beautiful sound sing it sweetie,
thats what the people say.
You've got everything
Money and bling, king
But you don't own me
But you don't understand me
Don't understand me
You say that you are great
Have visited many states, king
But you don't love me
You don't love me
When your money and bling
Starts to wear you down, king
Look to your special queen
She'll be your crown
Be your crown
When your money is rusted
And strength gone
Look to your special queen
She'll be your crown
She'll be your crown
Be your crown
When you've tried everything
Money, cars , and planes
And your queen is here
She'll be your crown
(When I looked this up, I found some interesting facts about this song(original lyrics).
Slow it Down
There was a time not long ago,
when yes was yes, and no was no.
Good was good, and bad was bad,
happiness seemed simple to be had.
You lived out loud, and didn't care.
You knew the law, and what was fair.
Your neighbor then, was a friend,
that you could trust, and would defend.
Life was so much simpler then ...
What happened? Who turned the page?
Now we're in this cyber age!
Did I go to sleep too long?
Sometimes I feel I don't belong!
Is it all somehow wrong?
Do you know your neighbors name?
Life is played out like a game.
Looking for that edge to fame.
It sometimes seems so insane.
Who's to blame?
Technology goes too far too fast.
The media looks for someone to blast!
Nothing ever seems to last.
Are all the good times in the past?
The big screen now is in your home.
Everyone a slave to loan on loan.
You do more than talk on your phone.
Everything about you is now known.
Wake up people, look around.
Don't let technology keep you bound!
Smell the roses, slow it down.
Don't miss the things that do astound .
Things of God, look at all he's done.
The stars, the moon, the blazing sun.
Majestic mountains, reaching high,
into the cloud studded, deep blue sky,
God's perfect paintings, money can't buy.
Colors dance in fields of flowers,
emerald forests, redwood towers.
Birds each morning, sing for hours.
Deep blue seas, where rivers flow.
The beauty of freshly fallen snow.
Slow down, or you'll never know,
the things you may be missing!