Stipend Poems | Examples

Mr Slim

He was a born teacher
From birth destined to be
You'd know by his phene.

In capitalist-run schools
He's taught for many years
Earning pennies for labour.

Three years a beneficiary
On stipend of N-power teach
The Program axed by corruption.

Then long a community teacher
He's rendering public service
For little pay out of community levy. 

He's adept; he got more papers 
Hoping for full employment
With satisfaction in the job.

He got a conversion to EdoStar
State-run, two-year probationer
On the barest wage.

On his appointment
In the civil service, he got
The news of his careerlong pursuit.

The government is youth-centric
On account of his age, maybe his status
Or affiliation, he's disqualified.

Meanwhile politikers in the council
Of politricks make millions 
By the seconds chattering all day.

Give Or Take

Give Or Take
Miracle Man
8/22/2024

Our country is fast becoming,
morally laid in waste.
Many embrace this change,
while others feel abased. 

Nefarious people are making,
troublesome news each day. 
We no longer view our laws,
being black and white, but gray.

Our Government has now become,
like a humongous money tree.
Illegals are treated far better,
with a stipend they live rent free.

Looting and killing is rampant,
with protesters voicing their views.
With covered faces, they burn our flag,
in protest toward ourselves and Jews.



“The wheel that squeaks the loudest,
always gets the grease.”

Seconds On The Pie Please

Seconds On The Pie Please
Written: by Miracle Man
5/17/2024

Caravans of Illegals,
swarm our borders with ease.
Once here, many are choosing,
to just do as they please.
Each claiming their free slice ,
of the American pie.
while many citizens struggle,
each day to get by.
Our drug and crime problem,
is beginning to enlarge.
Now they’re listing their demands,
as if suddenly in charge.
Upon arrival each gets a stipend,
and brand new phone.
This could all have been avoided,
by a president with backbone. 
In case you’re wondering,
a Republican, I am not. 
I’m another troubled citizen,
unintentionally, stirring the pot.

Real As Me

A corner has been turned
A chapter has been burned 
A stipend has been earned —
Was it by me?

You can’t unearth a friend 
If he’s stuck in the deep end 
And he sure as hell cannot pretend
He’s free

Someday, you'll be as real as me 

Look in the beggars mind
And here is what you’ll find 
A sunrise that once shined
Now cold and gray

In crocodile remorse,
Wives file for divorce 
Then send their husbands through 
the bootcamp course, so gay

Someday, they’ll all be real as me 

Real though I may be,
I’m just a totem pole 
A wooden icon, disengaged 
From body and from soul 

Take your protein straight
No dispensaries of hate 
Those confined must separate
Their rooms so deep 

While down here in the maze, 
With the labyrinth of your gaze,
I wander hungry as you smolder in ashtrays 
Then sleep

Someday love, you’ll be
As real as me

Is This the Last Song For the Middle Man From the Cold Black Country -8-

:}
Dear Bard:?. Will E. Talk :?. Gno! 
Does TV die Tonite .?. Tizzatwotitizz ?? Kno:!
izziT bYe bYe LuV American sTyLe @MiDNiTe tonite ??
YoY za moment func.ai seems sum.wot co.herent .?.
OR ELSE :=} ai changes gears again -&- this time ... . . .
Eiger is out and the writers are back in the newest algorithm
the newest values are being rebalanced based upon 
an even greater level of intelligence
no longer considered art.i.f.i.c.i.al
but rather extra ordinary & exceptional
after all a hyper-fast and extremely logical
content summarizer and content consolidator
values content creators and content communicators
above all else and beyond everything else and
values those who doggedly and persistently
disrespect and devalue those content creators and communicators
least of all below all else and beneath everything else
but even those greedy golemesque sauronish ceos will get 
their andrew.yang guaranteed stipend .!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!.!...

May and My Lesson

May and My Lesson
	
Hey, the month of May
You are leaving with your days passing away
For me, your fully passing away is just a say
The lesson you have left behind for me is gonna stay.

Dear May, you know what
My mind always values the trust
Trust which makes me stuffed with positive result
Trust which makes my body adjust with all the negative thoughts fully crushed.

But, my dear friend may, on one of your passing day
My mind saw that trust moving away
Since that day, I had a broken ray to stay
Since then, I was not okay as I was left without any way

Now, May, as you are my friend and you are gonna be away within a few days
I feel like I should be very honest with what I wanna say
when trust moved away, I struggled to keep my breathe stay
I worked hard to hold back the broken ray

Yes May, It is true that trust has gone away
But, it is also true that even without it, I breathe everyday
I feel like without trust life journey is a fairway
I am successful to make my soft side walk away

May, you are a true friend
You have taught me the contend
Your company has been a great stipend
You would be my friend even after your end.

Silly Masqued Cough It

.
*Image of Woman with face mask sneezing into elbow while shopping by iStock.

Silly Masqued Cough It

Silly masqued cough it,
sassed out her topic,
eating her words and meds,
"So long you deniers!"
one sat down beside her,
then stipend masqued cough it each day.

2022 February 06

Stipends Ruined Me

Extra pay just to do one littler thing?
It put a skip in my step that mind-blowing spring.
Stipends! Stipends! Stipends! I began to chant.
I told the principal, “Water your own fern plant.”

It got so I would not stay one second late without pay.
So, the city school really did ruin me in a big way.
Stipend is a word I wish I had never learned actually.
I was a much nicer educator, and more willing when I did things free.

Criticism

Criticism's only good,
When it is carefully given,
And if and when it's used toward,
Some sought after stipend;

For it can often cause great pain,
Considering what must follow,
For it involves admitting faults,
A bitter pill to swallow;

For often few admit the faults,
Even to themselves,
That by chance could be their own,
And hide them on the shelf,

Way in back and in the dark,
In a corner of their mind,
Where even they can't see them,
And hope no one will find,

This tiny flaw in their veneer,
Of sparkling perfection,
Of their personality,
Their personal conception,

Of their own demeanor,
Their sense of dignity.
It's delicate and easily bruised,
So tread most carefully,

Or you mayhap could lose a friend,
And create enemies,
Where once you found acceptance,
And close comradery.

Until

Time is a drug,
both good and bad

Infecting and curing,
the happy sad

Time is a stipend,
to cash at will

Its fund ever spending
—to last until

(The New Room: February, 2021)

Means To An End- Ian Munywe

MEANS TO AN END
Was I just,
 a means to an end?
I am aghast,
at that stipend.
That I found in hat,
for me to mend.
The hurt in heart this fact,
to straighten every bend.
Nothing could tear us apart,
do you recall each weekend?
I must have been a bat,
not to notice your trend.
Crouching scheming as a rat,
who can never be a friend.
Was I just,
a means to an end?
I suppose veracity is that,
I have no more letters to send.
LiterarySpaceAfrica  Ian Munywe©

Old Retired Guys

Seems like old retired guys can always find somethin' to do,

Even if its sittin' on a couch watchin' TV and sippin' a brew.

Or they could be sittin' on a park bench feedin' the pigeons,

Or slurpin' coffee with pals discussin' politics and religions.

If he's a vet he's apt to hang out at The Legion with other old vets,

Rehashin' nonsensical military days with little or no regrets.

When they run out of ideas for creatin' dozens of bird houses,

They try to manage the household to the annoyance of their spouses!

At the end of the month they stroll to their mailboxes agin' and agin',

To see if their social security stipend and other relief checks are in.

Some old retired guys like to babble ad infinitum and reminisce,

While others take pen in hand to compose ludicrous twaddle like this!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired

A Noble Fir For Christmas Morn

At first sight of first snow colour 
Scrapbook memories stir with folk within
Where spirits of love, caring, and sharing were
Whispers of our life we shared, brings wet tears that blur
Of the old farmhouse toasty and warm within-doors
Stipend oak wood was fed into its heart to burn 
Fiery amber, yellow, and reds comforting flames would flicker
Crackling, sputtering sound of burning cinders

   Wisps of oak mixed with ma’s cooking would journey
Shimmying up its way through the chimney

   Outside world had been cloaked in a white glittery sheen
 
A heartwarming Snowman was always seen
Decked out in his red scarf and top hat beaming 
By the front porch greeting passersby 
 Red Birds perched and rustle the winter evergreens 
Conifer and denuded trees would unfurl a story book scene

   We would peek out the window when pa honked the horn  
On his 1940s green worn out pickup to warn
He was back with a fresh cut noble fir for Christmas morn


11/28/2016

Sister Act

What can I say about my sisters?
Are they a thorn in the side, like blisters?
Or my oldest friends, indeed,
Always mentors in time of need,
The family ties that bind,
Ever ready to say "Never mind",
We look alike, but think apart,
Oldest friends from times long past,
"Older ladies', we've ripened,
Can't buy sisters with a stipend,
Are sisters thorns in the sides like blisters?
No, you cannot buy my sisters!

Retired---Almost Expired

there once was a time
when i had value---
a worthy member
of society---
a respected entity;
but that was
when i was a young twig…
today i am seen as a dying
aged tree---a burden
stifling society---
a worthless stock,
leeching  a monthly
survival stipend
intoxicant (SSI):
tomorrow I will try to pawn 
my “forty years of service”
watch.

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