Long Utilities Poems
Long Utilities Poems. Below are the most popular long Utilities by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Utilities poems by poem length and keyword.
Fred has been working with an agency called Hunters for the Hungry for five years. During that time, his food bank has received thousands of pounds of venison to feed the poor. This year, however, when Fred received no call from the agency saying it was ready to deliver the meat, he called the organization himself.
The answering machine was full and Fred never got through. Finally, he called a state officer for the agency and to his dismay he found out what the problem was.
Fred learned that the state’s governor, in an effort to balance the budget, had stripped $100,000 from the allotment to Hunters for the Hungry. In past years, that money had allowed donors of deer meat to have it processed free of charge. The meat would be put in one lb. rolls to be given to non-profit groups that operate food banks.
Fred was told the state now requires hunters to pay for the processing costs as well as donate the meat. Many of the hunters are unwilling to pay for processing. The cost is not cheap.
The staff at Hunters for the Hungry is upset with this new rule as are the food banks that won’t get the meat. As a result, food pantries and soup kitchens across the state have a big problem this year they can do nothing about.
After all, as Fred says, if the goal of private enterprise is to make a profit, and it is, then the goal of government is to take care of people. And in many states, government does a good job of doing just that.
Balancing the budget is important but cuts should not be made, Fred says, to programs that help those already down on their luck.
Fred and others would like to know how the money allegedly saved by the governor’s action is being used. Roads in the state are still crumbling, schools are making drastic cuts and those in need remain in need at a basic level—food.
Meanwhile, the staff at Hunters for the Hungry is trying to locate other meat for Fred’s food bank. They know the demand for food is exploding among those with inadequate income.
The missing deer meat means charities all over the state must spend more for food. This money would normally be spent to help pay for utilities, medicine and other necessities for the needy.
Something’s not right with this cut in the budget, Fred says. What’s worse, he adds, the next election is a long way off.
Donal Mahoney
My hair is mostly white with streaks of black here and there
My white hair marks me as “aged” --- is that fair?
I don’t think or feel old (to which my body keeps disagreeing)
Just let me be who and what I am without age interfering
My opinions derive from education and experience
Each and all have been my deliverance:
Reading, listening, arguing, questioning,
Curiosity, studying, rejecting and accepting.
At 78 my brain functions minus dementia or senility
And if truth be told Men don’t have a monopoly
On Life’s options due to their relentlessly reiterated virility
Womanhood has Booked her place throughout the Ages
Profoundly and sometimes better than Manhood’s Pages
(Yet I’m thankful for Men being close-by anyway!
They’re the music, poetry, and humor in Life’s abundant Plays
So Diverse, yet hoarded and cherished as Life’s Bouquets).
All this irrelevant musing won’t get me anywhere
Let’s not digress but readdress the dilemma of my white hair
A naked cranium would be icy in cold winter weather
And if it won’t grow back going bald might not be vey clever
There is always dyeing, but only another temporary solution
Dye fades and white hair will reappear of its own volition
Yet I love a rich auburn, and the right blonde shade can flatter
Black is harsh, and Browns won’t suit so do not matter
Purples, greens, pinks or rainbow are not my cup of tea
Hair coloring options or choices I cannot dictate
Or expect others to like or dislike the same as me.
Dyeing my hair will habitually face budget restrictions
A loathed state of affairs that is an odious situation
Being poor demands tribute to that which is essential
Like mortgage, utilities, eating daily (oh, so beneficial!)
Thinking, looking back and reviewing bygone years
I recall highs, lows, regrets, laughter and shed tears
I’ve earned the right to show off this head of white hair
Without dyeing, lamenting, defending or worrying if it is fair.
Perhaps it is time at last to say “Thanks” for the generous gift
I was given to walk Life’s unique (at times) inhospitable Course
Having had my share of rewards, recognition, grief and remorse
I now salute my 78 years with Good Show! Hip, Hip! Here! Here!
Glad to Be and now at ease wearing that mantle of White Hair
That serves as my symbol to Endure, Survive and Persevere.
My friends said C’mon let’s go, let’s head on down to Mexico.’
We’ll drink up all their tequila and we’ll snort up all their blow.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, out to Aspen, Colorado.
We’ll snuggle with some bunnies, and ski ‘til our buzz starts to go.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, it’s cold under this Missouri snow.
Let’s go to Miami and party ‘til we run out of dough.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, those Las Vegas lights are all aglow.
We’ll gamble away all our cash and leave with nothing to show.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, let’s head on down south to New Orleans.
Drink all night at Mardi Gras, get the drunkest we’ve ever been.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, to the sands of California’s beach.
Where the wine flow like water, and all our dreams will be in reach.
Chorus:
Why don’t you pack yourself a bag and let’s get on down the line.
We’ll worry about tomorrow later…but today we’re gonna feel just fine.
I said you guys go on without me, maybe I will make it there someday.
But now I have responsibilities, and life keeps getting in the way.
I can’t pay the rent and the utilities if I don’t go to work today.
Maybe when I’m a little older, then I’ll have time to come out and play.
With my wife, four kids and a dog, my life has turned out just fine.
I don’t worry ‘bout tomorrow ‘cause I always toed the line.
I’m ready to pack my bag and use the money I never spent.
I have the time to go see, all those places I never went.
Tried to get in touch with my friends, so that maybe we could meet.
But Dave lives at Bellevue, Blue sleeps in a box out on some street.
Dan didn’t shake the habit and OD’d a year ago today.
Frankenstein’s in jail somewhere and that’s where he’s going to stay.
Chorus:
I said you guys go on without me, maybe I will make it there someday.
But now I have responsibilities, and life keeps getting in the way.
Glad they went without me, while I stayed and toed the line.
Because tomorrow my friends is finally here, and I am feeling just fine.
I’m going to pack my bag so I can get on down the line.
I don’t have to worry about tomorrow , and today I’m feeling just fine.
© Jerry Brotherton
The Boss Up in His Tower
By Franklin Price
12/8/2016
The boss up in his tower, and the worker down below
Had somehow disconnected, how it happened who's to know
Been together since conception of the business and the plan
Each one knew the job to do, both the worker and the man
The years went by, the profits grew, the way was bright and clear
The worker was dependable; worked hard from year to year
The boss became an egotist, puffed out his chest with glee,
” Look at me, without me, where would the worker be?”
It was he who had succeeded, all the profits were his own,
He moved into a mansion as the company had grown.
Drove expensive autos. vacationed foreign lands
The worker ran the business, exceeding all demands
The worker fed his family, paid utilities and tax,
Often went to Goodwill for the clothes upon their backs
The car he drove was ten years old, and always breaking down,
Barely got the kids to school, wife to discount stores in town.
For vacations to a foreign land there was no hope at all
Unless the money gambled, won the elusive power ball
So the worker kept on working, just to barely pay the rent
At Christmas time a gift certificate, for a turkey, he was sent.
The worker finally had enough and went out on his own
His wife and children helped him, by answering the phone.
He worked hard to develop a better life for him
Soon hired his own workers, paid a living wage to them
The worker kept succeeding; knew all not due to him.
Each person, that he hired, was a loyal working gem.
His policy was sharing all the profits to appear.
His workers could pay all their bills and take vacations every year.
The worker was not stupid; knew some hires just got by
Would barely get their jobs done, did not really want to try
Took off every chance they got, did not work so well for him
Did not deserve the profit sharing and, with warnings, fired them.
The boss that he had left behind saw the error of his ways
He had not done it all himself, being greedy never pays.
Customers bought from the worker, for the quality was there.
The boss lost most his business, he had no one left to care.
So after the sale I had a bunch of cash
But I was too honest to bury that stash.
I settled my debts with all my credit cards.
And figured I’ll start over, it couldn’t be that hard.
I didn’t realize how truly bad the economy is.
And after 200 job applications, I say, “What gives?”
I’m 60 years old without a dime to my name.
Whose fault is that, am I the one to blame?
I get a few video jobs to pay the utilities?
What kind of life is this, someone tell me please?
I wake up each morning asking God to take me away.
I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, no way, no way.
So what am I doing to make life better, to pay my bills and whatever?
It’s not like I lie in bed and have no new endeavors.
I’m trying to sell web videos for businesses need them, don’t you know?
And am trying to build websites that bring in the dough.
I’m also trying to market video legacies
Where people tell the story of their life before they’re deceased.
I know there’s lot’s of money out there.
I’m hoping to capture part of that market, if I dare.
I also have a model where I do videos for businesses
To market their services online in this new world of synthesis.
I have a sales rep only on commission
With the hope she’ll help me reposition.
I’ve also booked time on a local radio
Where for $125.00 an hour I can have my own show.
I don’t know if there’s an audience,
Stay tuned as they say, if I’m lucky, I will commence.
So you want to know when I’ll pay the mortgage?
I don’t deny that I have the courage.
Give me until the end of December
To solve this problem, so we won’t have to remember.
A lower interest rate would be good and then some
But I need lot’s more money, a new source of income
Everything else is not really a solution.
Just pay your bills, there’s no other conclusion.
So that’s my story, that’s why I am broke.
I’ve tons of ideas with no money to stoke.
With God’s willing someone will want this sixty year old
If that person exists, I’ll make their life gold.
"Futile Fragments" ( A collaboration~ Linda-Marie P.S. sweetheart )
by~ LINDA MARIE *p.s. SWEETHEART
shattered to inner core emotions reside in vogue
as tattered tapestry etches death to vibrant vase
egotistical desires ejected common sense to rogue
fine ... adieu ... departure in the misty vague haze ...
fragmented fragile pieces exploded with destruction
simulation created to ebony volcanic ash
love vacated unceremoniously scans of interruption
emotions sustain tremors of immature backlash ...
enchanting charms reflecting the pain of sheer intense
to resurrect romance is a haunting dream of death
provoking passions escalate chaos ... havoc ... suspense
suffocation dwelling to captivate life's bated breath ...
bittersweet faded memories succumb to shadowed jest ...
by~ POET D:
Moshing fragments overlooked, a darker dance limitless
conventional Gothic hearings..... praising the sewer that runs
analysis running ticking with the passion of an atomic bomb
the perceived exotic unity of this frightens world~ shadow dust
lashing out tropical grasses and utilities . . . tampering every hell
Burning paper that represents hostile . . . black ashes
results of a detailed creature mourning the abyss
examination of falsification~ fragments that crawl in our inner walls
A poisonous micro-fragment is presented approaching
objective with the exploration of breakage . . . virus. . . patterns
meaning destroying every awakening stage in this bio world *via~ wide
Deep identification losing all Revelations,
Laughing fading away with the criteria formed
must we ~ need us~ crawling in my inner walls. . .
use me ~ need me~ feed me~ critically re-evaluate me . . .
A Collaboration with * Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of Poetry Soup RIP
~A Poet Destroyer COLLABORATION~
W omen are priceless treasures only mined with the loveliest tool of a caring heart
O ptimism is defined in their ingenuity with a worth irreplaceable as life
M en becomes helpless babes without cleaving to them in their lonely life journeys
E arth becomes lifeless without their wombs bearing fruit
N eed is no necessity without their hands’ industry of excellence
A ngels they are but without wings
R evolutionary to the core but lenient in their touch
E motions best dictionary the world has ever discovered
P ain is told and subdued by them even in the pangs of childbirth
R est is ensured by them even in times of terror
I deas are not only dreams to these treasures as they turn houses into homes
C hildren are sheltered in them for nine months without paying any rent or utilities
E nthusiastic of a kite flying against the tide is their vision for distinction
L oyalty is their hallmark as their fragility is ruined with their lovers’ betrayal
E ndless is their love when respected and refined with tender loving care
S easoned in their preserved taste, a blend of sugar and salt
S ervice is their trounce against society’s challenges
T alented to cook in the kitchen and rule in government
R iches are discovered only by the wise
E xperienced in the times and seasons of life
A spiring to the horizon with hopes that can touch the seat of God
S ensitive to perceive a needle fall or ticking clock
U nderstandable to the desires of crying of babies or the kisses of fathers
R eachable notwithstanding distance or difficulty
E ducators in their natural state, turning crawling babies into running heroes
S pecial in their makeup, priceless as treasures
I suddenly found myself unemployed,
after the place I worked for hit the skid.
Didn’t think it should be hard to find work,
having the experience that I did.
I gathered my resume and papers,
applied to every corporate job in town.
I managed to snag a few interviews,
but each one had the nerve to turn me down.
I swear every HR person I met,
just graduated from college last year.
They were pecking at gadgets with both hands,
and they had plugs coming out of each ear.
Like robots on automatic they asked,
me a few questions and I answered back.
Never bothering to look me in the eyes,
they put my paperwork under the stack.
They’d already made up their minds you see,
the minute that I walked in through the door.
They had decided by a glance my way,
I’m not the person they were looking for.
I am a fat man over sixty-two,
I do not have a bachelor’s degree.
So in their eyes it was an easy score,
already strike one, strike two and strike three.
For I understand the language they use,
from forty-six years on the other side.
That a sway back horse isn’t worth saddling,
If there’s no way it’s ever going to ride.
We have several people to interview,
means no way in hell that you are the one.
We’ll call you when we make a decision,
is get your ass out because we are done.
I thought about maybe flipping burgers,
but it seems I’m too old for Micky-D.
I just as well retire and have something,
and really try like hell to stay healthy.
Because I can’t afford the insurance,
and pay the groceries and utilities.
If you see me begging on the corner,
toss me a dollar or two if you please.
The little child was born into a home of violence and abuse.
Sadness was the closest thing to love and that was no excuse.
A little child screaming as his mother gets slapped and tossed all around,
While his worthless father struts thinking he is something he is quite profound.
The little children with ragged clothes and snotty noses just stood there in tears,
What an impression this father has made for them through the years.
We live in a monkey see monkey do get messed up society,
Most of the children grew up watching their parents fighting never knowing
sobriety.
Alcohol or drugs, seemed to dominate most of the poor.
The thing they didn’t realize this was only a temporary escape door.
The pain that was eased only led to more grief.
Till violence took over in the name of relief.
The daddy was loaded up paying the bills, food, utilities and rent,
While momma stayed home pregnant and got fussed at for the money she
spent.
They had sunk so low they were ashamed to attend any church,
Afraid that the pastor might point them out as he stood on his perch.
What is the answer if any to this little tale of mine,
How can we make it stop, can we ever draw a line.
I do know that hate begets hate so could love be the key?
Has anyone ever tried it long enough to truly find the answer of this I would
love to see.
All of my life I have heard do unto others as you would have them do unto you,
Such a simple answer could this be all we need to do?
Think About It!!!
Living in a Gated Community
By Elton Camp
To live in a gated community was Joe’s ambition
Where outsiders could enter only with permission
And ultimately, this goal he managed to achieve
Life in such a place had perks so hard to believe
The gate was carefully manned both day and night
It provided a level of security that was out of sight
From the time the community’s operation did begin
Not one single intruder had ever made his way in
The strong gate was by no means the only feature
By which the place stopped any undesirable creature
A metal fence the whole community surrounded
Any unauthorized passage it effectively confounded
To the residents, for free, even utilities were supplied
All those provision made it a low-cost place to reside
Pesky salesmen could no longer come to Joe’s door
His visitors were those who had been approved before
People who pass by never expect to live there
However, they will often slow down and stare
“My old boss lives there & does not a lick of work.
All the cooking and cleaning is done for that jerk.”
There is grumbling from people who think it unfair
That those people don’t work but haven’t a care
“That’s a place with many an economic parasite.
For them to live in such conditions just isn’t right.”
Twenty years the judge said that Joe must stay
So, at his age, he’s not likely ever to get away
State prison has become his permanent address
But it is a true gated community nonetheless