Long Paychecks Poems

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


Premium Member Folk Dance

"The Folk Dance"
On the backs of well formed muscular miners 
Working hard in the trenches on a daily basis
For the men who need coal, fat cats and such
Dirty, sweaty and tireless toil try to wear them down 
Dehydration and soot inhalation runs rampant 
An epidemic throughout lower Appalachia

The jobs they need, for their survival indeed
Their meager paychecks insist they must do it for the love
Ten to fourteen hour shifts and then they collapse on the bed
Six days of the week it's merciless work to anybody

Sunday comes and they can take a day of rest
A certain buzz going around electrifies every last person
Timing is just right to surprise the deserving workers 
Since people have prepared to throw down a hoe down!
 
The good old fashioned type with the elongated dresses
In classic style with seemingly everybody statewide participating
With a do-se-do and an allemande left good country spirits spin uproariously
Twisting and turning to chanted rhythms on a hard packed dirt floor
Inhibitions are nowhere to be found amongst these family friendly folk
Arm in arm with strangers they know each other wants a fair time

 Soon the energy starts rocking to the extended company outside
The hootenanny has grown too big for just one barn, they are tireless 
"Well Shucks." says the fat cat "I don't work them hard enough!"
Watching from afar he fumbles with his pocket watch just a little miffed
 
A raucous good time for a genuinely good people 
The orchestrator slows it down some and pulls out his granddaddy's autoharp
Relaxing to an old fashioned twang, the couples do their thing
Getting closer to each other rocking calmly to and fro
Feeling four minutes of tenderness with filled loving concentration
Because those seconds are the fleeting ones

Then the banjos bring the pace back up to complement rowdy fiddles 
Moving and twirling, elation fills the air for a chance at remembering
Why they are alive for each other, ingenious in its simplicity
While Merriness is their motto
 And not even the coal mines can make them forget that


After the Harvest

For you my dear, of glistening gold and hues of blue, 
A mirage created by the constructs of feeble minds.   

Our ability to connect is truly frayed, a romance delayed, 
Short as the breath of some insectoid, bent on lustful satisfaction. 

Are you even real? 
If so, very little time is spent on the marvelous experience that is joy. 

Pure and free of the adultery which is an office and a cage.  

The highways connected like the arteries of some foul beast, 
Circulating through the body with the opioids of ignorance and indifference. 

How is it that you would like to pronounce my name, 
Would you make a gentle song out of it and lull to me sleep? 

Or spit at my face with anger and disgust? 

I have yet to know the ailments and disease of a life full of unhappiness, 
For I have not lived one. 

To yearn for your touch in the waking slumber of the schoolyard is to daydream, 
But not of my distant hopes and visions of accomplishment. 

But of truth, brought forth through the neutrality of time.  

It is the waiting game, which I cannot live through, 
A wasteland filled with the death of youth and innocence. 

Their ghosts, specters that drain from you all the creativity and imagination 
Of a child, to alter you into the grotesque twisted form of a worker ant. 

Subduing the hearts desires with binds 
Made of paychecks and the disillusionment of having importance.  

But you are no fake, nor cheap reenactment of some unholy war.   

You pulse and vibrate with the magnificence of laughter. 

Your tears shred through my dissected emotions. 

Freeing me, no, all of us from the confines of having just one feeling. 

Broadening our mental scopes, 
How can I feel hate and love at once? 

We were taught that they were polar opposites, not of the same lineage. 

And so I say to you 
With the unflinching eyes of man decapitated on the stump of an oak. 

That I hate, love, fear, admire, and envy you. 

Following your cycle of death and rebirth.

Open Them Eyes Part 2

I see that our beliefs in race and profiles, defiles.
	Perpetuates hate, stereotypes to our brain matter.
I see corporate greed and pockets get fatter.
I see the will on the eyes, the glass as it shatters.
I see all, everyone all over and round the world.
I see every word is spoken is joking is heard.
I see with eyes that not only see
I see with eyes that both live and breathe,
I see your eyes on the handle that's sheathed,
I see true production with that handles released.
I see in future dictated by present,
I see in our fathers dictating, detectives.
I see guidelines are carefully protected.
I see between lines subliminal messages.
I see the music clearer than clear.
I still see the fear, when people hear 
me calling, my voice is honesty fear 
       calling from behind or the rear.
I see the judgments, assumptions and grudges.
			When nobody doesn't.
I see far like days and wider than canyons,
I see hard like maydays, milder than Manson’s.
See every person not one but all people,
I see from churches high up on there steeples.
I see in peoples eyes full, and there pupils, there retinas and defects and 
			and all they are hiding,
I see a way, to see, its in me there confiding.
I see people as people just people all striding
        for seeking with eyes that see fighting and dying.
I see no respect, regret and paychecks providing
	money in pockets and sockets, necessities, honest.
I see crotches and chests, members and breasts. Illusions, contests. 
I see with eyes that can see farther than many
I see plenty of love and have loved for a penny.
I see the eyes all gathering ideas
			my ideas teach my mother,
I see ideas to teach to another, to teach to each-other.
I see with eyes that not only agree
my eyes, like your eyes, have seen things for free...
but I don't forget where I've been 
my eyes now see more things 
	 than your eyes have seen.
© Matt Godek  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Back Then

Smoke ‘em if you got them.
Save the bottles for return.
That hippie needs a haircut.
What the hell’s a Lady Bird?
My Christmas tree had bubble lights, 
My watch lit up at night. 
Four-bits for my gasoline
And Cassius won the fight.

Music was a wall of sound.
A Stingray running fast,
Footsteps left upon the moon,
War’s ended, "Peace at Last". 

Paychecks from the mills and mines,
From Ford and IBM.
Farming amber waves of grain 
That’s how it was back then.

     From all around on Friday nights
     The hometown crowd, the football lights. 
     The pom-pom girls would dance and cheer, 
     I saw you there far so near.
     And though my odds were slim & none 
     I had to try to make my run,
     And never look back on the day 
     I had my chance and walked away. 

The party went ‘til midnight,
Coors and California Dip.
The Ventures playing “Pipeline”. 
You said “Let's do The Twist!”.
We dated first on New Year's Eve,
I looked into your eyes. 
We tied the knot in April, 
We made love until July.

But the world and I spun faster then,
You tried to be my rock.
Me, I acted like a fool. 
You said “Its time we talk!“.

I thought I was your shining knight 
And you my Perfect 10.
Why can't we get back to be just
Like we were back then?

     Throughout time there’s joy and pain, 
     We can't expect things not to change.
     When it was time to leave our mark,
     Time after time I broke your heart.
     The Texas sun goes down again. 
     A long day's work about to end.
     Forty miles to drive back home
     Flip on the light and drink alone.

Damned if I know why it all changed,
Wish I could tell you when. 
I only wish that I could make it 
Like it was back then.
© Ken Rone  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Murder Coming

those who have money,
bubbling in the belly of the beast,
make it their point to inform the
rest of us,
that if we haven’t started putting 
money away for our “retirement,”
then we are ****ed---
as if there will ever be a
“retirement,”
as if there will ever be money to
save &
we can look at our paychecks every week
to see the funds stolen from us
to be paid out to “social security”---
yes,
we are that lucky, to know that money is
taken from us that could be saved
as the vultures say, to 
“help us when we are older,”
as if any of us expect to live that long.

no,
we are waiting for the murder coming,
you know,
the one when you get sick in america
& you don’t have health insurance,
so that you cannot get well,
pure & simple.

whether you believe that approximately 
tens of thousands of people in america
have died in the past few years, due to
a lack of healthcare, or whether you believe
that 72 americans die each day
because this country refuses to provide for
its citizens,
or whether you believe that it actually comes down
to one person dying 
every
twelve
minutes
the fact remains that 
“For any doctor... it's completely a no-brainer 
that people who can't get health care are going to 
die more from the kinds of things that health care 
is supposed to prevent”---
so sayeth Dr. Woolhandler.
 
you & i 
are waiting for the murder coming,
living in this empire without the ability to
get the services needed,
when sickness & death begin to tap dance
around us
&
mr. hope & change is not going to do anything
but pour fuel on the fire,
by forcing the people of this empire
to buy healthcare from the very scum****s
that are killing it.


Premium Member Newsprint Melodium

Yiu can walk a mile in a mirror stance and 
never feelyour own re reflection. Your glaze gaze
bends on invisibility--a certain humor
crosseyed cleverly cleared like the rooms in the 
Winchester House or a traffic jamitis through
 the Mac maze at sundown. Feel ferr to co caress
your tired instep and take a loud load off
hope for that new impact that will tell 
 the torrid tale page by page compact dutiful
but united in a duffle bag born of poise
pronounced zipper closed but not finger 
forgotten-A minor standing at the Bebop
wishing well cool crammed
with apast B&W luxuries like a passed used
kleenix round for loose nose hits--picture 
frame elements often snotconceived, but
always matted for ignoi insignificance. Like 
clean tree pages waiting to be messed by
someone's illict penmanship, dry but butt bold, 
promising but hiding those grammar grabber
glib gratuaties in hopes of a chance for a fat
freeload advance and a creamy handshake which will 
sale set the ass o nine critics on their 
Keep pseudo salient the echo encrusted 
think thoughts you columinize- like a pants
pair without the cute cuffs--hope your midsection
is in tune with the public bulge extroadinarre.
Simple times, simple terme, simple thoughts
simple solutions knowtellseefree for all course
bookings on a thorny stitch stage- pious prowess
butt ugly unique paychecks pay roll a sham stabbing 
sliky slander most of the toime home prompt
legal-though low-some in in intent and
dubious dime parlor dance demeanor. Customize, cannonize that cowper's
culprit calamatious catastrophic claim. WTF?

The Root of Evil Vs the Bad Seed

3/27/2018       
Spit shined black dress shoes, badges and keys. 

The childlike fear of figures of authority.

Condescending tone, vocal depth, glacial stare

Standing upright, hovering over you sitting in your chair.

Behind a desk, in an office, certificates on the wall. 

College degrees, commemorations, or backed by law.

Cut your mic off in the middle of a moving speech

Raise the prices higher than anything you’ll ever reach.

Knock the legs off the ladder as we climb to the top

The key to their success written in a drawer, kept locked.

Same adults saying, “Shut up n’ listen,” urge you to “Speak up for yaself”

Every time you act or express something different, momma reaches for the belt.

Black robed white collared behind an elevated altar

While Judases sit in pews in fear sin will conquer.

White coated, phone bill charging for half an hour

Costly prescriptions instead of natural herbs and powders.

Weekly sessions diagnosed a mild depression 

If suicide ain’t on your mind, therapy will lead you that direction.

Government imposed taxes and student loans $5,000 debt

Paychecks seized by the bounty hunting IRS.

Currently, currency and power market wars and cancer

Little boy asks, “When’s daddy coming back?” with no answer.

Troubled teens evolved from touched children 

Never spoke for fear their parents would kill them.

Religions already forced them upon their knees

Never blossomed fully because they were said to be ‘bad seeds.’
Form: Rhyme

Theory of U... Part 5

First let's learn how to count, Again.

1+2+3+4+5+6+7+8+9+10+11+12+13 = 91

A+B+C+D+E+F+G+H+I+J+K+L+M = 91 x 4 = 364

These lines of alphabet can be anything...

14+15+16+17+18+19+20+21+22+23+24+25+26 = 260

N+O+P+Q+R+S+T+U+V+W+X+Y+Z = 260 x 4 = 1040 plus One more. Set! 1040 + 260 = 1300 and spin.


Results are the same, paper, scissors or rocks,
we should know this game, it's in our paychecks.

52 weeks a year x 5 days a week = 260 days.

Scholars say it's a mystery, of how
the Maya Tzolkin came to be...
My OP? They saw what's clear to see.
It's about You and U and Me. Really.

YUM

Pyramids they left us when,
they saw the skies deciding then,
We'd not remember the day they came.
We'd not remember the loving game.

But the parchment read,
They are more then one team.

Memory comes in a DNA stream.
Opening eyes under lids as they dream.
Whispering voices that can sound like a scream.
Presenting choices on a golden beam.

~Which way to do you read?
Dear.

Starting at the one, gives us 400 years.
91 x 4 = 364
1+2+3+4+5+6+7+8+9+10+11+12+13 = 91

90 x 4 = 360
2+3+4+5+6+7+8+9+10+11+12+13 = 90


364 is contained in them all, 360 too.
ALion drawn through, a Gregorian call.
A Maya.n went too and doubled the TEN.
Then Time added One to begin.Again.
And Again.

Two came along and said "hey Square"
How will you make the circle write there?
Without Me?

I'm the One Tu, can't you see?
You need me TuT.urn a 360.nuT
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Beat It My Brother

Guess who is back

Re-writing historys slack

I keep to myself like the whiteman does to rap

Close your eyes and sleep

No longer are you the black sheep

Smile nice and wide like you won the California Lottery

For only then you will see

You had more friends than you need

As they pop a smile at you like chapagne bottles on new years eve

As you will now foot the bill

For your "new" friends now kill

To get to the prize like the clown from Oprah...oh yeah, Dr. Phil

That no talent junkie

Leaching off of Oprahs Emmy

Its safe to say that your nipple better be coated with honey

As they suck and leach off you true

Like the nazis did to the Jew

Except the end will only come when you stand tall and say f%ck you

Where were you when I was in the gutter

I called your name but you did shudder

So kiss my checkbook now my brother

When you want me to cut slack

To get your hopeless line of crack

Call Bobby and help him get Whitney back

And pay it forward like the white kid did to black

Only now you will see the light fade

As the world turns its back on your grade

As you cover your murder so slick, did you help OJ?

You lying piece of Saddam

May you die and rot in hell

While you go dont forget your paychecks in the mail

Dont forget to smile for the camera please

As I laugh while I sign a check for your deed

Please forgive me, for I hate you like a kid to a priest
© Penn Kname  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member You Are Not Coming For Our Children

You are not  coming for our children,
You are not coming for our teens
You are not spreading your 
LGBTQ agenda on foreign
lands all on behalf of our
Uncle Sam! 

Drag queens' shows
are sponsored by
our United States
military making us
the laughing stock's
of the entire world!

As long as Biden and his
family can receive large
substantial paychecks
from the hands of the
Chinese Communist
Party and get away
with it! 

President Joe Biden is a spokesman
for them and not the the vast majority
of our American people.  Christians
and conservatives are united
in protecting our children and
safe guarding our own elections.

We are taking back our rainbow
for you have hijacked God's
very own rainbow from the
very throne room of All Mighty
God and He is taking His
rainbow back!

Our country was founded on
Christian principles as 'one
nation under God, and our
founding father's Godly
principles still stand today!
In our post-modern secular
society! Be not deceived
for God is not mocked!

Vengeance is God's and He
will repay!  God sits on His
heavenly throne and laughs
at the wicked every day!
In the end, He will be
victorious and his triumph-ants
shall be truly glorious!

The Woke agenda has declared
open warfare upon our righteous
and our holy God.  How can
they be so foolish to openly
mock Him but they are
fools because they do
not acknowledge God's very
own existence.

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