Long Pocketbook Poems

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


Premium Member Phoney Money

With a wallet full of plastic ... 

     credit cards to shape my social classification 
     phone cards so I can stay informed 
     a debit card that always goes in debt 
     a card declaring my citizenship and identification 
     a card insuring me good health, long life and liberty 
     gift cards that help curb my defamation 

The more I owe, the more I glow dimly 
All caught up in attaining the American Dream 
Yet pale and lustered from self-affirmation 
That it’s okay to be lost and confused 
That it's okay to be me, not alone in
Paying homage to a false god that sucks
Souls and drains my pocketbook into the red 
With lots and lots of stuff 
I can’t take with me when I’m dead 

There was, once upon a time 
When “In God We Trust” was the norm 
Card sharking, once illegal, considered a scam 
Something only criminal minds or the mob would dare 
Is now commonplace and no one seems to care 
That it’s all consuming, eating us alive 
Of all what is left of any dignity 
At an alarming high percentage rate 
With fake news and empty promissory notes 
And the only cost is to conform 
To having counterfeit consciousness 
As conscientious as confetti 

I’m flabbergasted and plasticized.


Premium Member Someone Listen

“Zoloft.” was someone’s loud, quick answer.	
“Yasmin.” I heard, spoke by another.  Huh?		
“Xanax.” Was then offered.						

	While these people shouted, I stared, perplexed.	

“Valium, is inside my pocketbook,							
Unisom, too.  It’s up to you.” said some voice.				

	”Thank you,” I began, “you are all dear,			
	Seems though, I have not been clear.				
	Really, all I want and need ….”				

“Quick dissolving antacid is here, amid						
Percocet in the drawer, in my desk,						
Oxycotin, too.  What bothers you?” again, someone interrupted me.				

	”Now that you ask,” I started to reply, “my only request,
	Made just moments ago …”

“Lexapro, is in my bag.” Another spoke,  					
“Keep it with you all day, see if you’re okay.  					
Just know at work you can’t rest – it’s no joke.  					
It will tire a person in no time flat.” She went on, 					
“Happens fast, you will feel sleepy once you digest.”					

	”Gosh guys,” I felt mad, “this is like combat.			
	For goodness sake, do stop speaking out.			
	Everyone, hear my question, don’t make me shout,		
	Did any of you in this office						
	Consider that all I wish to 
	Borrow is a simple, genuine
	Aspirin?  Well, maybe two.”
Form: ABC

Premium Member Merry Christmas

Look at all the opportunities life presents itself
During the Christmas season are you the Grinch or do you turn into one of Santa's elves
The season is generally a happy time for us to enjoy
For some military families even more meaning as some members soon to deploy
Without their service to the country, what would are lives turn out to be
Let,s all raise a glass this holiday season to the men and women who keep our country glorious and free
The joy of giving should take center stage at this time of year
An elderly neigbour whose driveway is buried in snow, a shovel is waiting ready to clear
The greatest gift anyone can give is an outpouring of love easy to wrap and takes up no space under the tree
Best of all it, it's easy on the pocketbook and shipping is free
It's never too late to make Santa's nice list, reach out, and lend a hand to someone in need
As the old saying goes peace on earth and for all armed forces to succeed
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Last Call

The last-call lights flickered once more
A warning sign she chose to ignore
Her soul, just like her pocketbook
Was as empty as inside the glass she looked

The bartender said, “Lass, you now must leave”
As she wiped her tears on a tattered sleeve
With no place left in the world to go
She ventured out in the freshly fallen snow

The beauty that she once wore with pride
Had long ago shriveled up and died inside
Her vanity had taken its high priced toll
Leaving behind a lost and lonely soul

Girls who were much less popular than she
Now bask in a love life of prosperity
While she is a smile in many a lad’s past
The less frivolous girls have had the last laugh

Now her love is something she can’t give away
None of the men she devoured elected to stay
That pint she just drained with her last sip
Is the only thing left willing to touch her lips

Her lights flickered their own last call
As she ached for some more alcohol
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member WORD

 
Don't promise me or say things that you don't really mean
Don't say that you love me and then start to act obscene
Don't promise me a fairytale, and that I will be your Queen
Don't say it's forever then run off with some young teen

Never get my hopes up and then dash them to the ground
I might not get over it if you kick me when I'm down
Never promise and not deliver there is no 2nd round
One day you may look for me and I'm nowhere to be found

Don't play with my feelings I am not your pocketbook
Then try to walk away as if I let you off the hook
Don't promise me you'll repay me so I finance your chores
Then leave me alone without a home because I helped with yours

Maybe your intentions were well meant as you once said
But your word was never heard except inside my head 
Promised me the light then left me in the dark
Feeling like the jackalope that did not make it to the Ark

Once your word is spoken, it should not be taken back
Your given word is not lightly heard so best you keep track
One day it may mean the difference between someone’s life or death
But if your word isn't worth a turd their life won't be worth jack

People are pretenders dressing up for their own games
One day they find their in a bind and still push anyway
Maybe they will read this or perhaps their time has past
They play their play and go away - forget what happened last

If your Word is worthless, said only for your own gain 
A trail of disappointment, do you even feel ashamed?
It is of your own making and there is no one else to blame
Start right now repair the trail and redeem your family name

If you promise someone - you should try to follow through
Do your best - put it to the test this isn't something new
There was an old saying that I've heard a thousand times
You are only as good as your word, THE WORD YOU STAND BEHIND


Premium Member Cattlemen

When there's no gold to be gained. Nor oil to be sipped.
Nor lithium to be sniffed.
The parasitic class will get rather restless. 

When there's a hint of peace, they cringe.
Because their pocketbook begins to thin.
They'll concoct conflict, then heavily promote it to justify it.
War makers laugh at the working class.
Use their children as cannon fodder
for the sake of a dollar.
But they'll never lead the charge.
War slithers at the speed of sin and greed.

The wicked always dream in blitz and eugenics.
As their needle screams cure but only brings misery.
While dripping sterility and death. 
Their seeding clouds that weep mighty toxins
Our ranks are quickly thinning. 
They think of us as their cattle 
flanks to be branded and prodded
not worthy enough for living.

When the desperate reach for peace and tranquility.
The parasitic class chops their hands with orchestrated cleave.
When the poor climb for the summit of dreams.
The profiteers manufacture landslides and broil.
A division in the liberty bell, a concocted hell.

An enraged population is their iron seed.
Our fear and division are their twin shields.
Finally, our silence is fruit in their fetid basket.

Wars will always commence...
Because ego and greed crave the taste of our death.
Love and unity will be sabotaged by the parasitic class.
They proudly wear our mayhem and fear like a pelt.
They've traded in Christ and the blood of children 
to bloat the dowry of hellhounds and devils.
From the fear and blood of our children,
they wish to glean eternal life ..
But their arrogance breeds only ignorance....
Blight in the dead end of an endless night.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Coffee House

Helplessly, I saunter in and step into the line.
Drawn into the store by the aroma so devine.
I reach inside my pocketbook and quickly rummage through.
Finally, some dollars, to get my morning brew.

Intoxicating, rich and dark, I never can resist.
Penetrating every pore just like a lover’s kiss.
The line moves ever slowly until I’m there at last.
Underneath a magic spell the precious drink has cast.

Eventually, with brew in hand I’m quickly on my way.
Secure in thought that I can now begin my hectic day.
Liquid treasure in a cup that slowly calls my name. 
Lost in sweet seduction, every morning it's the same.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Writing Poems Is Legitimate Now

From both sides of the world we poets hail
Japanese Chokra and Russian Chatushka
Italian sonnet and African Kwansaba
Keenly delighting each other without fail

Within ballad a most interesting tale
Carpe Diem makes me sigh with a serious Ahh.
Here comes an acrostic – the best I ever saw.
Abcedarian swoops in on a gale.

Cinquains and poetic diminished Hexaverse
Your challenge accepted, the cards are clearly cut.
Get out your pocketbook, believe I can do worse.
The Internet has made writing legitimate.
From both sides of the world we poets hail.
Keenly delighting each other without fail.

Are You Or Are You Not

I was at a carnival when I saw a fortune teller
Dressed in a very colorful ankle length skirt
With a matching peasant blouse and bandana
Who was saying come gaze in to my crystal
Ball.
It will show you what you want answers to 
Most of all.
Would it be marriage? Nah. You wouldn't 
Settle for average.
How about finances which are all the rage?
Could it be the one and only love of your heart?
Who will be with you til death do you part?
Maybe you like to travel as a famous personage.
Awe! It's business. I can show you an inside 
Leverage. 
None of the above. Your a cynic?
I will prove this is all authentic.
Nope not in this age.
My pocketbook is not big enough to find out 
Whether you are or are not a fortune teller
Or sage.
Form: Kyrielle

Something New

People buying something new
Can’t wait to use or try it,
Starting with the minute their
Decision was to buy it.

If it’s clothes or jewelry,
They’ll wear it right away,
Just to reaffirm it’s worth
The price they had to pay.

I’m a little different, though,
My wackiness unmatched;
My purchases remain unworn,
Their price tags still attached.

They languish in their shopping bags,
Most likely quite confused – 
Selected from the store, brought home, 
But waiting to be used.

I can’t explain the reason why
I have the need to wait;
At times, I almost reach the point
When things are out of date.

But soon enough I’m ready – 
It’s a feeling in my gut;
I’ll slip the item from its bag
And price tags will be cut.

You like my pocketbook? Me, too.
It’s nice you let me know.
It’s brand-new, even though I bought it
Fourteen months ago!
me
Form: Rhyme

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