Long Overdraft Poems

Long Overdraft Poems. Below are the most popular long Overdraft by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Overdraft poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member John Mccain Loses

Winter creeps forward
As I struggle to look presentable.
None of this helps.
The writing, the window, the bed,
As my bank calls me again (and again)
Requesting me to pay the overdraft
Fee they themsevles charged me
Which I can't afford
Even the draft from outside
When I open the window
To merciless New York,
This city, the nest of my worst
Nightmare--last night:

I dreamt my bedroom was speeding down a dark track
My window, glassless, a giant square hole
Where I watched my room
As it sped its way into a hellish oblivion,
Soundlessly into the night I stuck
My head out and cried:
"In the time of light
There was God."

And I awoke.


Confucius 551 BC-479 BC

Wise man say, “No laugh up sleeve, while wear heart on same.
For misconstrued may be, lose heart's desire, passion's flame.”

Happy dentist say, when at chair, always looking down in mouth,
“If two-thirty appointment, timely arrive, open wide, north and south.”

Smart dry cleaner say, “When laundering get old, ironing fatigues.
Fresh stuff, no fluff nor fold, we take care of pressing needs.”

Keen optician see eye to eye, at visit end, focus on clear point of view
say, "You now seeing well, looking good too.”

Lactose intolerant say, “No cry over milk, inadvertently spilled.
Unless pint unpaid for and unlucky one, who lose bottle, be acutely billed.”

One unhinged psychoanalyst ask, “Jung at heart was Freud.
How it make you feel?” If on couch pay to lie, reply, “You unemployed!”

Thrifty bank manager ask, “Check in, overdraft terms discuss.
Open savings account, would you credit, spending holidays with us?”

Enlightened electrician say, "Know what's watt, watts' what, no shirk.
When in dark, put hands in air, many hands make light work.”

Savvy shipbuilder who post note, quite staunch,
he write, 'Don't come a-knocking, if boat a-rocking, we out to launch.'

Polite gynaecologist say, "Business looking up, ever more each week.
Sit on table, feet in stirrups, arms akimbo, legs a-spread, turn other cheek.”

Prudent sage say, “Patience virtue, virtuous who want to stay?
No play all work boring make, moment grasp, incentive take, seize day.”
Form: Rhyme

Offline

Dear Temporary Bliss,

I Sense a Shift Amidst
When I No Longer Crave Your Embrace or Your Kiss
Reaching For The High Hanging Fruit
Wet Behind The Ears, "Know It All" Youth
Suspicion Birthed By Intuition
Mercury Retrograde Enhanced Mis-communication
What A Situation I Have Found Myself In
Barely Hanging On to the Rope of Tolerance
Patience Account In Overdraft and Fading Thin
But The Wife In Me Will Surely Win!
Silence is Loud When Truth is Eluded
Fruit Picking Like an Opportunist to Opportunities
You Can Fool Them, But You Can't Deceive Me
For You See
The Crone in Me Knows The Truth
Her Flaming Torch Will Be Your Retribute!
The Lord Who Came First Has Long Departed
Leaving Behind an Amateur Who Can't Grasp How This Situation Started
Masked Grandeur In A Truth Parade
Is It Me or Yourself You are Trying to Persuade?
Sorry, Not Sorry!, I'm Not Drinking Your Sour Lemonade
Your Version, Illusion of Love Has Left Me Bored
My Time, My Energy and Sanity You Cannot Afford
No Regrets At All for The Time Invested
It's Just That You're Not My Type and I'm Not Interested!

Premium Member Friday

Today is Friday
A happy day
For the weekend is festive and near
I day dream of BBQ's and friendly banter
As I hit the car in front me
Shocked, I backed up over a dog
This is not turning out to be a good day
Especially for the dog
I was on my way to the bank
To find out I am in overdraft
They were not concerned
We have your house they say
You may find another place to stay
This sure isn’t a turning into a good day
I called my wife to tell her the news
I need not have worried so
She has run off with the fireman it seems
Our house burned down this afternoon
Heroically he saved her from the fire and me
I am not feeling so happy this day
I am sure the banker is as sad as I
He lost his house and his mistress
To the fireman today
Me, I just lost the house
I am sad and empty, no where to sleep
What ever shall I do?

The night turned cold and hostile
Until I spotted an empty doghouse

How was your Friday the thirteenth?


Notes: When I read Dave Woods poem "NO" well it made me smile and inspired me to write this! Thanks Dave

Stay At Home Moms

Tribute to stay at home moms
                  ( from a writing by melvina germain)  10/28/11

To the stay at home moms (sahm) I must say
I honor you in every way.
I made my wife stop working when she got pregnant
Forty six years ago, and real love is what my daughter got to know.

She is there every step of the way and 
my heart thanks her every day.
up in the morning at the crack of dawn
To change diapers , bathe the baby, change the clothes
And with the baby is where she belongs.

She is a woman with many hats, and for her
There is no turning back.
A mother, housekeeper , cook, and wife
Accepting all these struggles and strife.
You may not hear her complain
But when things go wrong, she is the first to blame.

We all may have a lot of food on our plates
And forget  what they are going thru , but
Do you honestly think you could do her job too?
we may be the bread winners and struggle at work
But we did not have to go through the pains of giving birth.

Do any of you men think that you could hold
A child in your stomach for nine months
Of morning sickness, weird cravings, sleepless nights
And with your partner you would fight.
 
They could only sleep on their backs or on their sides
Would you like to give that a try?
They look at you in your sleep and thank GOD
For all that you do, but they need compensation too.
There is another hat that they may wear, when
They have to become the C.P.A. and balance
The check book so you don’t overdraft
And turn around and get on her ass.
So many hats and so little time, and when you ask
Them they say they are doing fine.

So to all the (sahm’s) out there with you this poem I share
You deserve not just a flower, a outside dinner
Or a movie, but the biggest THANK YOU 
From our hearts, because in our lives
You are the greatest part.
© Louis Rams  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


World Ends Tomorrow

World Ends Tomorrow

The World will to end tomorrow,
I know that to be true,
It was written in The Forecaster,
Right at the top of page Two.

Hopefully it happens in the Evening,
Tomorrow’s my busy day,
Dentist appointment, Two-Thirty,
Overdue Gas bill to pay,

Meeting the Bank Manager at Ten,
Overdraft taken a hit.
Go down the Gym before Noon,
Trying hard to get fit.

It’s all rather inconvenient really,
There’s a film I hoped to see,
Called “The End of Days,”
A Special ticket to get me in free.

Perhaps the Paper got it wrong,
I’m crossing my Fingers and Thumbs,
After all you know what they say,
Tomorrow never comes.
© Kevin Shaw  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Use of Time

Time is the only gift that keeps giving
as it ticks relentlessly away.
It is an indifferent benefactor
brutally fair with its pennies.
Each dawn sees more hours in our account.
But it never checks the balance,
there is never any carry-over,
no borrowing, debt or overdraft.

Time is endless; it ticks on regardless.
Its account respects not its waste, 
nor wise use, nor measured or frivolous use.
Procrastination is ignored.
It waits for nothing
why should it?

It catches up with us
as we catch the clock face
counting the past,
which is the one tense, 
that time forgot long ago.
Time is merely a witness,
watching on CCTV.

We speak of spending time 
as though we possess it,
but it never belonged to us anyway,
it was never given, only taken,
as it ticks away.

Saving time is a delusion
it ticks away.
Tomorrow is an illusion,
a tick for another day.
time well spent
is a drip drop splat
in the ocean's séance,
that ticks away, ticks away.

Time has no use at all.
It is totally indifferent.
It leaves no traces of its passage,
which we observe in tree rings, wrinkles,
scars, sediments, stories, 
relics and memories.
Time knows nothing of such things.
We imagine we are moving through time, 
yet we are the hourglass 
through which the sands of time can move.

The past never exists.
The future does not yet exist.
The present vanishes before 
we can touch a finger on it.

The past is a recollection
future is anticipation
present is participation
time has no reflection.
Yesterday, today, and tomorrow 
all exist concurrently.

Time began with the Big Bang
the downbeat for existence.
It is the sound entropy makes 
as it unfolds order into disorder.
It is an ever expanding passage
relentless in its ticking.
Its rhythm is indifferent
to whether we dance
or simply count the notes.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Let's Rob the Bank

Let’s Rob the Bank

Let’s rob the bank
Take all our money
And the overdraft
Go somewhere sunny
Let’s rob the bank
Escape the monotony
Worry about nothing
Eat bread and honey
Let’s rob the bank
Rent an huge flat
Somewhere in the sun
Buy a Siamese cat
Let’s rob the bank
Let them do the worry
We’ll live it up
Life in a hurry
What about the kids
Your son my daughter
We might miss
Them at the alter
If we rob the bank
We’ll live in hiding
No phoning home
Somewhere in West Riding
Can’t rob the bank
You know it’s wrong
The police will hunt
We won’t last long.
Get up for work
Carry on like ever
Dream of escape
But knowing we’ll never. 

David Cox 05/11/23
© Dave Cox  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Greed

What a joke 
What a laugh 
People stressing 
The overdraft 

Oh my 
Oh me 
How much will it be? 

Can I afford to pay? 
Another unfair bill today? 

Such is the way of the corporate ladder 
To send paper with numbers 
In order to get fatter 

I laugh at your effort
To rob me long distance 
Instead I smirk 
And return resistance 

It seems odd to me 
That people fret 
Like they’ll ever collect 
Is what I bet 

I wait for it all to collapse 
For corporate America 
To fall into relapse 

Then look at the greed 
And what they have brought 
How much blood from a stone? 
Is my thought 

I love to laugh at these greedy misguided fools
Sending paper numbers 
To obedient tools 

When they send you pictures of numbers 
Send them pictures of money 

And laugh, laugh, laugh………..

Eric (and sometimes not)
© Eric Nolan  Create an image from this poem.

The Floorboard of My Car

A look at the floorboard of my car
Gives a glimpse into my life
All the trash that's scattered about
Necessities to survive?

An old McDonald's bag spilling it's contents
I wonder if those fries are still any good
With nary a doubt I pop them into my mouth
Hey...don't judge me, you know some of you would

There's candy, bubblegum, fortune cookie wrappers
It's all a pretty even mix
What's this? Half a granola bar?
That day I must have been on a health kick

A fist full of bank statements...withdraw, withdraw, withdraw
Without a single deposit...what am I daft?!
Oh wait a minute, here we go
Overdraft, overdraft, overdraft

I swear I hear something moving
From underneath the passenger seat
Maybe tonight I'll leave the door open
Hoping against hope it'll set itself free

The floorboard  of a car speaks much of a man
And this man is pretty much a slob
Guess you could say it's a part of my life
And you ladies know that me being a man...it's also part of my job

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