Short Filthy Rich Poems

My woman is one evil witch
Who happens to be filthy rich
But I can live with it
Less I forget
I could be back digging a ditch...

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Thought it would be great to be filthy rich
On second thought I still think so, got the itch
Not asking for much
No fortune or such
But a million would make me a happy son of a ...

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Thought it would be great to be filthy rich
On second thought I still think so, got the itch
Not asking for much
No fortune or such
But a million would make me a happy S.O.B. (wink)...

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Good morals can't be traded, bought or sold,
But virtue check’s easier said than done;
I truly want to be an honest man,
Yet more so filthy rich, the truth be told.


February 18, 2022...

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I want to get filthy rich from writing poetry 
That is impossible! 
I write poems about dwarves and elves
Sometimes I write about Israel 
Sometimes I worry about what will happen in the future 
Meeting some nice women recently
That is all to the good!...

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They shot anything that moved,
anything filthy and poor.
Down with the proletariat!
The Prussians played cards
and praised red French wine.

They passed round the Vodka,
The Russians played cards.
Down with the aristocrat!
Lambast the filthy rich.
They shot anything that moved....

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I’m not the best good-looking guy.
I burp a lot.
I’m very shy.
I’m sure I’m going bald real fast.
That odor is the gas I passed.
I snore at night.
My skin breaks out.
My breath smells like old sauerkraut.
My palms are sweaty.
I do cross stitch.
But honey dear…
I’m filthy rich!
...

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I am Lucinda, a young hip witch,
Some may call me a bi%#h!
I love to sing songs out of pitch,
I threw my boyfriend in a ditch.
And I have a super sexy twitch,
When I'm around cats I itch.
My bestie is named Mitch,
A warlock who loves to stitch.
My greedy parents are filthy rich,
They stole it, I should snitch;
But I’d have to vacate Greenwich!...

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In the hour glass of life
the sand just keeps on flowing
when your last grain will fall
there is no way of knowing

no matter if your good or evil
filthy rich or dirt poor
when the sand stops flowing
your hour glass will get no more

so there ain't no sense in worrying
just face the day and keep on going
for no one stops the hour glass
the sand just keeps on flowing...

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Two limericks

There is a truth I must tell and it is a whopper
I don't come from much, but married a Hopper
I'm not playing games
When I make it rain
Though unintentional, I have became a name dropper


  I have seven missed calls from Justin Bieber
 My stacks of fan mail just keep getting steeper
I hate to be vain
But can't entertain
Every filthy rich and famous creeper...

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Bacon-wrapped, filet mignon 

Beurre Blanc, or Sabayon 

caviar so delicate 

on your tongue, you will not forget. 

 

Crystal and golden spoons 

Do not forget the tea at noon 

for your name, an abbreviation 

Do not forget the reservation. 

 

A brand-new car in the drive 

my own pool, in which I dive 

all new clothes, every stitch 

How satisfying to be rich....

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Filthy rich

Filthy rich now control the poor,
Howards contracts will hurt 4 sure,
Government cleaners by the contract blest,
$200 less in their poor pay packets,
Per week im telling you,
Pick on the poor these scum will too,
A greed of hogs attack,
Morality died in days of old,
Todays scumbags would sell your soul,
No decency, in fact, the greed 4 bloody gold?

Don Johnson...

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ain’t it strange the human brain ~ as an organ itself can feel no pain 

stab it slice it smash it to bits ~ will feel not a thing but spasm and fit

   yet brains process that nagging itch ~ formication to be filthy rich

stroke of luck for pain unfelt ~ crawling sensation of poor bards wealth 

from tics and twitches to iou’s ~ this rhymester pays his monthly dues 


By
David Kavanagh...

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We wrap ourselves in golden linen
and smoke our peace pipes,
we show the world false eyelashes
yet promise the truth be told,
we fake our way through daily living
then say our prayers at night,
we steal from the filthy rich
yet rarely give to the truly poor,
we sing and dance in the streets by day
then cry alone at night in our pillows,
we put on thick makeup for each other
and use cracked mirrors to hide the truth....

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Everyone warns you of the darkness.
But no one tells you whats in there.
Have you seen the monster in the closet or under the bed?
That's me.
I am the darkness.
I am the monster hiding waiting for you.
Truth is I'm human,
I'm just like you.
I just think different.
Look around the darkness is all around us.
Whether  it's the filthy rich person,
the family that's barely making it,
We're all monsters.
Sucked into the darkness...

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