Long Money to burn Poems
Long Money to burn Poems. Below are the most popular long Money to burn by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Money to burn poems by poem length and keyword.
Watching my country deteriorate
Ethics and integrity they shut the door on
Seeing no common sense on the Supreme Court bench
Liberal leadership is an oxymoron
They’ve taken all a working man makes
And everything he will ever earn
Then give it away in Federal Grants
Like it was their money to burn
They’ve created entitlement minded robots
Waiting for their monthly check
They’ve created chaos in Congress
And made Social Security a wreck.
In the 50's they decided that the witheld
social security payments would be part of your
gross income (not in the original plan)
then decided to increase the amounts witheld.
In the 60's they decided to put it into the
general fund so they could access it at will.
In the 70's with liberals in the executive office
and congress decided that the immigrant Who never
contributed to the "retirement " plan could
access the money just by filling out forms.
A massive war against the working man.
God Help us in 2008.
It is happening again,
As my dreams have surpassed,
My normal day-to-day experience,
And all of its too fast.
So then, my head screams, STOP!
And of course, I immediately hit the brakes.
At which time my heart asks, WTF?
Are you crazy, for heavens sakes?
Soon enough, my logic begins
In its battle with raw emotion,
Just as my search looks back
For any new found devotion.
What I find is a casual faith,
Based on lengthy promises and wealth.
Where my sacrifice is the first to show,
Well before my own personal health.
Then I realize, this is pure risk to me,
Yet to the other, It's an easy and solid return.
From my investment into the ethereal,
As if I have all this money to burn.
Here is when I begin to wrestle,
As hope and common sense begin their fight.
And while my fantasy puts up a good battle,
My realistic conclusion is victorious and right.
Since this leads to passing judgement,
Where I frolic back to that perennial square one.
I'll be compelled to seek another dream,
While hopefully avoiding a rerun.
He went on an ayahuasca retreat searching for that magical seed.
To lead him up the stalk to his soul's treasury.
This white-collar fellow with money to burn, sitting before an old shaman.
Who'd so much to teach and he with so much to learn-
They quietly sipped the potion; the trip soon arrived.
On a psychedelic current, virgin constellation branding the eye.
After his ayahuasca odyssey, he told of wonderful things he'd seen.
Secret places he'd breached...
The mind expanding to the fringes of time.
Where he'd kissed a gilded silhouette of Jesus Christ.
He asked if I'd like to board the next mind expansion ride.
I politely declined.
Being concerned about ingesting a bad batch.
Perhaps clashing with a brass-knuckled devil.
The mind eroding into a total mental contraction.
I'm content strolling through this realm. clear minded
With its bits of heaven and hell.
I'll reach the next realm when the flesh is perfectly ripened.
It's not quite that time yet.
My rock group was getting stale
We no longer drew the fans
So I told my sad tale
To a public relations man
He gave me this advice:
"There's only one way to the light
Avoid the image of 'nice."
Let your inner demon take flight.
So we drove my car off a cliff in Malibu
Jumped out first, watched it dive
Made sure a camera man knew
Struck a pose with a high five.
I attended a posh party at night
Slapped my wife, who played the part
sniffed white powder, picked a fight
They rolled me out in a hospital cart.
I set fire to my guitar on stage
Firemen had been called, just in case
They sprayed me with a hose, I feigned rage
Yelled obscenities, got in their face.
But the fans would not return
Now I was without a car and a guitar
Plus dentist bills, no money to burn
Sold the mansion, no more a star.
I went back to my hometown
Helped an old lady walk where the street was wide
Cameras flashed, reporters took it down
that "Bad boy Jennings" had a good side!
Now the fans fill up my halls
It came as a total surprise
Now I've learned when the limelight calls
To be myself, no need for disguise.
"When it comes to money, you can't win. If you focus on making it, you're materialistic. If you try to but don't make any, you're a loser. If you make a lot and keep it, you're a miser. If you make it and spend it, you're a spendthrift. If you don't care about making it, you're unambitious. If you make a lot and still have it when you die, you're a fool-for trying to take it with you. The only way to really win with money is to hold it loosely-and be generous with it to accomplish things of value." - John C. Maxwell
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Listen to the lessons
Who remind me that I spend,
More than I can earn,
More than I can learn…
Is too much, too much, too much.
Listen to my conscious,
When I reach for the cart,
Shopping – my obsession,
When will it finally stop?
When will I park that cart?
Listen to the lessons
Who remind me that I’m broke,
Spent more than I am making,
Spent more than I can earn,
Spent more – don’t have money to burn!
Listen to my conscious,
When the cash is burning holes…
Deep inside my pocket,
Where they yearn to finally know
How it feels to go into a jar,
Saved from the shopping sprees!
Saved from their enemy, ME!
Listen to those bills, tempting me…
To pay with cash, pay with my debit,
Pay with credit – pay with anything…
That allows me to spend, spend, spend,
Spendthrift I am – spendthrift is who I hope…
To quit being, throughout the coming year!
My new year’s resolution, then…
Is to write X spendthrift,
When I take up my pen, to sign by the x,
Where I’m signing my earnings away,
For the next purchase that I’ve made –
As a NEW X-spendthrift, I hope that I can say…
Together with my money, I will finally stay,
Able to look at the future with savings that I pray…
Will keep me from poverty as I go on my way,
Keep me from the spending that took me astray!
There was man named Garrison,
and he lived the good life,
flush with that big trust-fund money,
he hungered for the night,
for booze and bodies tight,
the finest clubs were his domain,
his bar tabs were truly insane,
his one-night stands were numerous,
the affairs always light.
He was technically a lawyer
in his father’s old firm,
was kept on mostly for his name,
got more money to burn,
deserved not what he ‘earned,’
his condo was a bachelor pad,
wis many friends thought it was rad,
the women came and women went,
an ever-constant churn.
But Garry saw no problem here,
he was ‘living the dream,’
ladies and drugs, mountains of cash,
the dreams of quiet teens,
a hit in every scene…
but his father just sighed and said,
“Keep it up and you’ll end up dead.”
Still Garry saw no issue with
enjoying his own green.
Though as he went through his twenties
he noticed a strange thing,
every time he lived it on up,
less pleasure did it bring,
less fun in every fling,
it was fun but not as intense,
at fist this did not make much sense,
he’d always so enjoyed this life,
now it wasn’t working…
And worse still was the growing pain
that he’d feel the next day,
sometimes it made him stop to ask
if he wanted to play,
Or at home should he stay?
He had achieved what most men want,
a wild life that he could flaunt,
so then why, when being honest,
did he no longer crave?
And then one day at twenty-eight
his friends wanted to drink,
the thought of it made his bones hurt,
so away he did slink,
depressed, needing to think...
looked at his life, what did he see?
Pregnancy scares and STDs,
and a handful of nights he’d slept
off his drunk in the clink.
Nothing to show for all his fun,
nothing that could impress,
the world did not care that he had
dropped many a tight dress,
everything seemed a mess,
and worst of all, he’d no savings,
he’d always blown through everything,
while his brother had made partner,
Garry himself felt less.
He would soon drift far from his friends,
far from the debauchery,
felt like a stranger in his own life,
some sort of refugee,
his path he could not see…
What was life now? He couldn’t say,
what once was clear now seemed so gray,
he wondered if this was adulthood,
searching for what to be…
Too old to be in that tik tok flock
Despite my age not sold on Dr Spock
Truth be told rage from a different stock
More hip hop hook sage than book of rock
Shun the puns...should have culled the latest gold rush.. centre stage..toxic tech throng runs amok
Mulled over..all along...pong of wrong'uns...what we behold.. scold this trend..what they spend...crush AI shock
Tolled & trolled...which this flush round the bend plush fold will gush & defend to the end as ad hoc
Kenned don't befriend but defrock pretend tutors & stranglehold suitors who dulled futures will unlock
Champagne sculled...bling rings getting arsehol*d...we know what they took..society crook & crock
Lulled by untold mandarins sins.. which underpins their unfair don't care chock a block share or snare scare smock
Us all in the thrall..must stall the cruel rule of their tool...epoch controlled by a cocked virtual glock
Call out such gall..regulations rolled..enthrall.. no appall.. but still have not yet got this lot in the dock
Yearn for us to break the mould..forsake today's mistake.. discern time to turn back the clock
For profits to be doled out..learn every household polled must ignore..keep score..attack & mock
Sack & spurn these cold crooks with a knack to churn…deserve flak for poor artists stack they hock
This pack..despite all they earn.. no concern.. more money to burn..be bold..hack this ridiculous pustulous pock
Out of whack AI lies the new quack..hardcore tech crack or just unwise cack soundtrack ..that whole drole so what we stole rigmarole..their guys in disguise once more at your door…Knock Knock
There is a rocket firing off today
Sending a business adventure trip far away
With the thunder below
Up it will go
Looking to put technology in the sky
In a late afternoon scripted signature that everyone on the beach will wave bye bye
Falcon number nine is spending the dime
To climb climb climb
Calling the plays from the huddle
Very near to the pad for the shuttle
Internet interaction will be shared
In this mechanical bon voyage that has flair
Traveling to many orbits out there
Sixty broadband satellites will be dispersed
Into the vast universe
After the fact that been confirmed
Space X had money to burn
Linking the stars from above
With Intergalactic communication that fits like a glove
T Minus the launch will be here
Giving us new apps to play with next year
It's the Ninth of November
By Franklin Price
11/9/2015
It's the ninth of November
It's time to remember
I've much to be thankful for
I've got a good life
And a wonderful wife
Many friends and family galore
Got food on the table
Still walk 'cause I'm able
Have a leakless roof over my head
Live in a nice 'hood
All my neighbors are good
At night I sleep in a nice bed
I'm retired, that's right
Have no traffic to fight
That means I'm older of course
When I worked it was fun
But I'm glad I am done
Looking back, I have no remorse
Hope you're as thankful as me
That's as much as can be
In enjoyment in life I am rich
Have no money to burn
But for little I yearn
And for little about which to *****
It's not long 'til Thanksgiving
Thank God I'm still living
In closing to you I must say
Hope you're as happy as I
That's as happy as pie
Which I'm going to have Turkey day
It’s a lovely winter’s day, isn’t it
Gotta spend it the same way as I did
Yesterday and days before, what a thrill
Hope to find today some more time to kill
Off I go, with some money to burn
To the Spar and back again to my home
Got a little celebration to throw
Put some music now I don’t feel alone
Honegger’s 4th, why not, just for fun
Then I may incline to Band on the Run
Then it can be Free, or Bad Company
Something that is much admired by me
Wine and music, watchers films on youtube
Seaside towns, with narration on mute
That’s my day, and yours might be quite the same
Play it loud, before the night ends the game.