Long On the money Poems
Long On the money Poems. Below are the most popular long On the money by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long On the money poems by poem length and keyword.
To Americans, July 4th
is Independence Day,
with; barbecues, concerts, fireworks,
picnics, parades, patriotic festivities,
(a.k.a., Freedom Day).
Despite the star-spangled banner's,
red, white and blue,
to that of the British Union Jack,
being identical in hue,
flag-waving they're compelled,
or conditioned, so to do.
The U.S. Constitution does define,
'Treason' as... the only crime
consisting of levying war
against them, and/or,
to their enemies adhering,
with comfort and aid
by all means conveyed.
To those in England,
considering, in 1776,
colonists went their own sweet way,
it's the ultimate 'Treason Day'.
And, altho' the U.S. touts
'Separation of Church and State',
yea, verily I say,
is it not hypocritically unjust
of them to print on their money,
'In God We Trust'?
Nice sum
ho-hum
Figures
triggers
transfer
defer
Strict loan
bemoan
Invest
divest
credit
debit
Tax break
intake
Pay in
smart pin
Pay out
for nowt
Encash
that’s flash
Mortgage
bondage
Wage freeze
on knees
Account
discount
Trader
with flair
Bonus
focus
Crossed cheque
ink fleck
Price hike
dislike
Bank app
just tap
Bankrupt
disrupt
Assets
facets
Bullish
flourish
Bearish
finish
Blue chip
shrewd tip
Savings
cravings
Broker
joker
Launder
flounder
Money
sunny
Offshore
of lore
wealthy
healthy
Lodgement
judgement
Finance
by chance
Stocks crash
mad dash
Target
market
Angel
gainful
hubs thrive
survive
In Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-six
By Franklin Price
7/4/2017
In seventeen hundred and seventy-six this Independence Day
Declared by our fore fathers, our freedoms here to stay
They fought the revolution came away the winning team
To see now what has happened would only make them scream
Instead of independence we are dependent in our ways
Caring for ourselves and family has seen its better days
The government has programs that put us on the dole
Make us become beholden, to put this country in the hole
The rich becoming richer through no benefits or pay
They send employment offshore to keep making all they may
Not taxed a fair percentage on the money they don't earn
The workers have to do without while the rich have bucks to burn
Buy another sports team, obtain a bigger yacht
Control the New York Market, put more money in the pot
Forget about the little man, he doesn't mean a thing
If he'll bow a little lower, I will let him kiss my ring
If I helped him with his healthcare or employed him at some work
I might not be a billionaire, then I would be a jerk
Any extra money, I must spend on Washington
To show the House and Senate that I am still the one
That's how the country runs today, there are the rich and poor
The middle class is shrinking, they don't exist much any more
The jobs that they once held, exist in another land
Our independence gone; the rich make another grand.
……. Holy Poets……
If you don’t like a poets views take a long walk.
Don’t beat anyone over the head, with endless
God talk.
They may be Jewish, Buddhist, Islamic,Atheist
whatever!
It’s none of your business to hog tie them with a
Christian tether.
They don’t need you...who are you the Pope?
Moralistic monks posing at poets with hope??
At least, the Hare Krishna folk can dance!
You have spiritual, Savior “ants in your pants”
Many practicing, good Christians, already are here.
Take your own moral inventory, before condemning
other poets, far better than you, be of great cheer.
Jesus was right on the money!
“Judge yourself, before you judge anyone”was pure,
clear, ESUS honey!
This is a place for poetry, not eternal salvation.
Quit playing clerics and sending poets to eternal
damnation!
Do pray, in humility, for all you “think” that are lost!
Remove your white collar, alienating dear poets is not
worth the cost!
Poetry is about honest self_expression at its best!
If you think it’s about judging, worse, destroying others,
you are on the wrong quest!
There are Christian poetry sites you can participate in... and
Being non-Christian here, is no requirement, nor is it a sin!
Look at all the countries represented here.
Give each one space, respect them and be of good cheer!
10/2/2021
She was going, going, going
Going for a song
When I heard that engine running
I knew she was the one
Well how could I resist her
She was sweeter than a song
The price was right, she was going cheap
Yeah’ she was going for a song
I was thinking of the summertime
Thought this soft top could be fun
I didn’t come tyre kicking
No I never haggled with the sum
She was going, going, going
Going for a song
When I heard that engine running
I knew she was the one
Sometimes were not searching
When surprizes come our way
This sporty little classic
Just simply blew me away
Wow’ what a steal I was thrilled
I never expected this
Bargains don’t come everyday
Especially not like this
She was going, going, going
Going for a song
When I heard that engine running
I knew she was the one
She was mint inside and out
Her paint gleaming like the sun
It must have been my lucky day
She still had miles to run
She was on the button
On the money too
Yeah’ she was going for a song
That came right out the blue
She was going, going, going
Going for a song
Yes this motor was a blessing
Always dreamed of owning one
© Copyright KC.Leake
28th February 2017
All Rights Reserved
The name Scot denoting a man, combined with terra.
Translated; Scotland.! a masculine descriptive will it be
Banned.? By the idiocracy; with a non-descriptive..?
Dystopian' most bland..The most disconnect could be
Planned? To remove the (hate word) we know as Scotland'
Police of unknown place unsaid..' Consider it reported!!
Let the originator dread.' un-justified lawfare should be now
Unleashed, upon this most unfortunate beast, so ready the
Capsule 'you in blue' go back two millenia! my advice
To you.' Make recordings and drink some mead, get back
Here present; above light speed, and bring offenders one
And all.' Give them chance to offer their call, then haul them
Off to that nazis son..Bald head and glasses.? Do you know
The one? Hangs out with soros who 'shopped his own' and
He's got his wrinkled rump on the money throne..'
Who buys his cronies, with the funding he got, from that
ss colonel..What a sorry lot?? So its do your worst now
These days not a joke..You all hate reality, things are up in
Smoke.' Hate crime the lawfare, buzzwords your proof just
Denigrate reality and confuse your youth, Its a real bad
Deal, btw? Is that all you've got? for hundreds of millons.! Too
Bad you've lost the plot.' Yet I wonder if the money goes
Back to davos? no matter what outcome' scoros still
Finances from out; of those cypresses groves.'
6/28/24
Oh heck no
It's not good feeling like a puppet made by Gepetto
The overhead downpour constant and torrential
Can't find my way through this god forsaken residential
My sleep was hardly ever restful
So much blood on the money that it turned to red gold
It's kind of sad how easily men fold
As a battle hungry general
Many many heads rolled
I slayed my enemies by the denful
Plenty said I was another hell-bent soul
Wasting all of my potential
Just living a life that was uneventful
Problems incoming by the tenfold
Still folks being petty and judgmental
Doing things that are disrespectful
Or considered dreadful
Never resentful
They don't ever feel regretful
It's beyond coincidental
As well as being consequential
Time has proven with it's credentials
I find it hard to trust anything presidential
Why do so many poke the bear and rarely settle
I'm thankful for this meal of lentils
No matter if I have utensils
Will humans ever stop being vengeful?
Too many quick to fire the first projectiles
Little good it does to be forgetful
And far too neglectful
It won't stick if I write it in pencil
Life gets stressful
So I got to have the mettle
To take care of what's essential
Times turn harsh it just can't always remain gentle
I'm sad that I can't find or understand anything ancestral
We've no proof of anything celestial or spectral
I could be wrong though I'm not a perfect vessel
Still not yet fully successful
For now I'll make some medicine with flower petals
By using a mortar and pestle
I am thrilled for you
Really and truly I am
Loyal servant am I
And a fair-weather fan
I love that you wear
Your heart on your sleeve
When it comes to the sharing
Of what you believe
And although I may never
Stumble across
You out shopping, at a bus stop,
Or out dancing to Bros
I will really be sad
At the end of your reign
For I know this will never
Happen again.
You have led and encouraged
Set the tone for this place
Made your mark, you could say
More than sharing your face
On the money we spend
And the letters we write
You have been a consistent,
Glimmering light.
I hear that you laugh
Far much more than we see;
That you're joyful and cheeky
When you are able to be.
And my favourite moment,
As I'll tell you in heaven,
Was when you teamed up
with 007
I will ask of your thrones:
"Have you ever sat in 'em?"
Regardless, I'll say:
"You're still worthy of Platinum"
So a heartfelt congrats,
In a simple refrain..
All the best to you Ma'am
On your 70-year reign.
Jinjagoliath
2nd June 2022
On either side
Of a crowded family dinner table
There are signs of ambition and resentment
Success and failure
Marked by those who pass
The plate
And those who only take.
A lighter than air blimp
Floated
Lazy circles
High above a City
Of breadlines desperation
As New York struggled
Through the Great Depression.
Hank was tough
Self reliant and hungry
Eager to impress
He washed
And waxed
His uncle’s car
Calloused hands
Carefully caressing
The sleek curves
Of a 1938 V16 Caddy.
Catching his reflection
In the chrome grill work
He ignored
The rough lines
In his face
Focusing instead
On the money
And power behind
The car.
Wet sponge
Going up and down
The rich’s man car
Sweat pouring down his neck
Pails of water
Clanging an alarm
Under an August sun
Having never owned a car
Hank
Was dismayed
When the wax
Clouded
Up
In the summer heat.
Well dressed
Republican
Hands on hips
Uncle was upset
At what he saw
Incompetence
Was wasted time.
The sudsy water
Drained away
Any hopes of
Hank getting a job
In his uncle’s firm.
The Depression was a disaster
For some it came sooner
For Uncle it came later
Packing a surprise punch
That was catastrophic
Uncle lost everything.
The house
The fancy parties
And the ‘38 Caddy with dual spare tires mounted on each front
Gone for pennies on the dollar.
Ever resourceful
Hank got a job as a clerk
In the US Patent Office
One day
He realized
Beef and potatoes
On a modest clerk’s salary
Tasted better than Uncle’s lavish dinners
The seeds of disappointment
From that summer’s day
Occasionally came back
To remind him what was meant to be
Thinking of his red faced Uncle
In a starched shirt
On that hot August afternoon
Hank broke into a wide grin
And ordered another plate of beef stew.
Robins the name given me
But poemprophet or sweet pea
Are some that suit me much more
Than others used on me before
Poemprophet fits to the letter
Writing poems there's nothing better
Sad, life, love or even funny
My words are right on the money
Flowing emotions I can't stop it
Touching hearts just like a prophet
"Peas" are green and I am to
Some things I am a virgin to
Like drinking, drugs and other stuff
But there is more than enough
Days bringing me things to find
Acting "sweet" and very kind
To everyone that I meet
Always trying to repeat
The same logic every day
Treating others in the way
I want them to treat me back
There's not one time I will slack
Or reverse from what I do
Never being mean or cruel
Or acting like a racist fool
So Sweet Pea I am proud of
Spreading cheer, niceness and love
robin davis