Long Thrifty Poems
Long Thrifty Poems. Below are the most popular long Thrifty by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thrifty poems by poem length and keyword.
I get the feeling I'm wasting my time
people are afraid of losing their money
afraid of the arguments within their families
afraid of finding family that will steal their money
afraid of losing their investments
afraid of going into bankruptcy
My sister having started and lost to shops
has not the heart to travel that path again
they started a butcher shop and went into bankruptcy
they started a fairy shop but could not reach a profit
a friend of mine started her own business
making/tie dying tee shirts
she had eighteen staff
Australia opened the doors
to international trade
she could not compete against
companies that pay third world wages
time and time again I come up against
people with experience in business
afraid to restart in todays world
perhaps they are right
but it's just as well your employers
didn't feel the same
we live in a hard country
I watched as a coffee shop employer
cried because she could afford
the minimum wage for employees
so that she could take time off
across the road from us a new plaza started
already only a year later
several of the new companies have failed
I imagine thousands of dollars in lost investment
The worst was the biggest shop target
that struggled to get customers
in our thrifty Australian economy
people that try to cut costs buy cheap
Target could not compete against
Kmart's on both sides in close proximity
to many similar shops in close proximity
undermine each other business
making it impossible for the weakest to survive
you want competition to drive prices down
but we also need to look at sustainability
shops need customers to survive
Granted I am encouraging
people to become investors
but we also want those investments
to be successful
Governments thrive on the success
of their people
we need Governments that focus
on creating successful investors
Intermission
The morning sun returns once more.
It hides the night and settles the score.
This thrifty spark brings forth life’s Zen.
The light returns from where it’s been.
Its healing power will now come forth.
It sends the wind back to the north.
The light will give us strength to win.
Unbridled by the night times sin.
Focused on those most in need.
Respite from night’s bitter deed.
One set of prints is all that shows.
Soon covered by the wind that blows.
The sand now shows God’s proof of love.
Those prints were made from up above.
Carried through the long dark night.
He brings us back into the light.
Once everything was lavish,
I needed no special wish...
surviving on strength alone
seemed impossible, but I failed twice
not knowing the magnitude of my sacrifice.
Making changed and adapt to another lifestyle
with less desires was an incomparable task
friends ask me how I still survive with little...
they would think I'm crazy if I told them it's cost,
or the thrifty ways I've learned to avoid a loss.
My apartment was spacious and livable
with a stunning view of Forest Park,
I felt like a king entering his castle...
would I sincerely want that back?
My response wouldn't be so positive.
The more money I had the more I squandered on useless needs
without realizing that no treasure would be full with restless hands
if no measures were taken to keep it from wasteful urges...
was it because I had no wisdom in the prime of my youth,
or was it the foolishness to resemble an admired sheik?
I have no wish for riches, I only pursue happiness
in the very simple things that are not spoiled by greed...
a mansion on the beachfront would be nice indeed,
a yacht to sail the seas would be the next choice,
but how would I feel at peace and continuously rejoice?
Surviving on strength by planning a strategy is very wise,
even stock-holders who keep track of their profits pay some price;
and God forbid they lose their fortune to underestimated risks,
what would be their worth...the equal of ordinary men?
No, I won't fall into that deception: that being wealthy is everything!
Generally cheerful institutions
school and hospital, The Constitution,
roadways with their yellow stitch lines.
Order on the mountainside, in the city,
the veneer is thin, the people thrifty,
the freedom to associate unlimited.
Smoke the cigarette, sound the subwoofer,
I woof and bay like every other dog, proof
one cannot escape the planet, life's foolproof.
Magic's secret- rabbit, lion- the inner
animus emerges from the hat. One eats magicians,
the other's skewered for dinner.
Thus, happy and sad at once, death a solace
and a fearsome fright. As the dashed lines pass,
confidently, and when necessary, I drive fast.
An afternoon, one hundred years of solitude
for our silver maple. Microscopic magnitudes:
the snake's skin, the fly's wing, the man's mood.
Now that all the world-honored bloom you have,
How do you plan to run the affairs of this estate?
Whatever your thrifty or careless arrangement,
Remember that Nature gives in order to confiscate.
So what you think you so luckily have is not yours,
It all belongs to that incorruptible giver and taker
Who cannot be beguiled by the naïve innocence
Of those unaware of the age-old callous Breaker.
You may desire to invest your exceptional refinement
In wanton schemes ungrateful to the giving hand,
And reap the empty cup of an unbefitting investment;
Or, like the wise servant, put your treasure to profit.
Yet all these sway nothing in the long counting of time.
It is the unfailing nature of the un-delaying Master
To whip out her timely sickle and prune into eternity
All the old polish to give way to some newer luster.
"Nobody but God knows you better than you know yourself." By author
Dear Self,
What can I say to you about yourself
that you are not already aware of?
You’ve taken tests on personalities
and know how good it is to have self-love.
You’ve always known your strengths as well as flaws,
and freely you’ll let everybody know
just what they are if folks should care to ask.
All your faults you’d share, in fact, blow-by-blow.
But in a nutshell, here are the best traits
describing you: forgiving, conscientious,
loyal, kind, considerate, fun-loving,
thrifty and authentic – not pretentious.
Some traits of yours can be annoying to
some people who are not so down-to-earth
as you are, and you need to lightly tread
with those who don’t appreciate your mirth.
You are a rebel, but one WITH a cause
because injustice you can plainly see
though some do not see things your way at all,
so sensitive to them you’ve tried to be.
Sarcasm you were good at in your youth.
You’ve had to tone that down a lot because
today society is divisive.
and seeming callous is one of your flaws.
By now, the folks who understand you well
should realize it’s only truth you seek.
Keep staying true to who you are, dear self,
while making sure to think before you speak.
What makes us very proud and astute
is the sweat of our labor;
at the day's end, we gather
around the abundant table of gratitude.
We were told by our fathers who were wise and thrifty,
" Work hard and reap the reward of your planted seed. "
Why some prosper and others fall to poverty?
It is fortitude: that willingness to succeed!
One powerful Man tried to exterminate a race
for the wealth they accumulated in foreign land,
envy smeared his face with hate: a look without grace...
today they still thrive and remember their heartless fiend!
Do your part in life and continue to shine until death arrives,
don't become that one in desperate need who asks for handouts:
more tender will be the bread you eat, sweeter will be the wine you drink,
and although riches you won't amass, storms can't make your ship sink!
Written on 6/ 16/ 2015
There is a special
love – the love one
dreams of having...
a desire for
limitless expression of love –
a love that embraces
your all…
but the thrifty heart
can never be happy
in love
mush less, the miser –
addicted to sums: meticulously
keeping records – foolishly tallying
that which, according to divine length
and width, ethereal standards of weights
is ordained immeasurable….
No – love, though often a puzzle
as to origin, can never be appropriately
defined
by its pieces
nor understood by fragments
no matter how captivating – as those of a
fine tapestry, or swirling mosaics…
for if there are borders,
so restricted is the timeless
nature of love…
Though love begins
with embers of cooling stars...
the Resurrection, a result of its
comforting warmth,
leads to the soaring rebirth of a new
and even brighter generation....
Disguised as an Apple Computer Technician.
He initially hacked Macbook Pro laptop.
He (alias Harvey Specter)
planted seeds of suspicion
that criminal activity prevailed
within my geographic area in general
or questionable individuals
lurked within or without
Citizens Bank in particular,
and suggested yours truly (me)
to be wary about
over friendly employees
at aforementioned capital one
storied financial institution.
Said gonif (pulled a masterful subterfuge)
inveigling yours truly to carry out heist
of the twenty first century
against his honest good n plenti resources
(subsequently checking and
savings accounts severely depleted).
The invisible webbed wide whirled net
ensnared me lock, stock and barrel.
Little did I know
the spellbinding impact
until the dirty deed done dirt cheap
found writer of these words
figuratively holding the empty bag
where I got forced to trod
analogous highway to hell
courtesy diabolical, inimical, satanical...
devil may care disguised cozener
who wove believable scenario
claiming Citizens Bank employees
involved in suspicious conspiracy
to siphon off hard earned bucks.
I submissively consented
to participate and cavalierly disperse
freshly minted Benjamins
suddenly linkedin
chain of events
rocketing, kickstarting, and experiencing
a worse horror than death
mortified at being bushwhacked.
The feeble explanation, justification,
qua obliteration, ululation
trumped with lame excuse
yours truly not in his right mind.
Mind control, (albeit remotely)
assassinated rationality while hypnotically
feeling commanded, governed,
née kid lee killed
mine esprit de corps
among kith and kin
consigning thrifty troubadour
to the depths of despair
wishing termination of existence
in tandem with damnation, interrogation,
penalization, et cetera of nasty brute.
After series of unfortunate events brought,
where innocence and naïveté caught
teetotaler tempted to drink deadly draught
of top quality hemlock sold
at many bustling entrepôt
cuz now existence fraught
with torturous quaking
nauseating, kickstarting hatred
of self, thus restitution
of funds sought
by folks willing bestow largesse.
If yes check out (fiasco from fraudsters
frazzles father)
legitimate platform
where charitable people swarm
and toys are sold.
Mayhem, pandemonium
total chaos, bedlam, devastation.
A soft, soothing breeze turns
into a whirlwind, a hurricane causing
havoc, death, destruction and untold misery…
Is it the fault of the fair wind?
The life-giving rainfall
cool, refreshing, revitalizing,
turns into rainstorm,
violent thundershower, lightning
causing flash flood, landslide,
mass wasting and shambles…
Is it the fault of the water?
A common man
good, God-fearing,
eking out a simple livelihood,
living a frugal life but sparingly,
thrifty and weak-willed.
When politicians and priests
wreck ruin in his life and
he turns violent, causing terror…
Is this the fault of a mere man?
~10/1/17
~Best free-verse poem oct.-Dec. by John Hamilton