Poetry competition CLOSED 13th March 2021 5:26pm
WINNER
buddydog
buddydog
Page:
Money
Poetry Contest Description
Any poetry of any type about money!
Have fun with this, write a new one. Or two. Up to two per poet.
Two weeks for everybody!
I’ll just drop the poem I wrote this morning that started this comp idea.... but hosts don’t compete so it’s a non-entry for the fun of it. If we have fun, we win!
Go!
Two weeks for everybody!
I’ll just drop the poem I wrote this morning that started this comp idea.... but hosts don’t compete so it’s a non-entry for the fun of it. If we have fun, we win!
Go!
From the Power of Your Hand, Printing Slavery
A slave to your virtue
...prey to your vices
Your hand is a press
pen in your hand
signing your bonds
backed by fear
...and the promise
of all your love
while blindfolded
to your printing press
your commitment
mocked as though
thin air made it
and yet even
our own nation
holds in declaration
Only the people
shall make our money
for only we hold this power
with our pen in our hands
...prey to your vices
Your hand is a press
pen in your hand
signing your bonds
backed by fear
...and the promise
of all your love
while blindfolded
to your printing press
your commitment
mocked as though
thin air made it
and yet even
our own nation
holds in declaration
Only the people
shall make our money
for only we hold this power
with our pen in our hands
Written by EdibleWords
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Rich People Problems
Feel like I’m running a race and I’m winning.
But no one told me it’d be lonely at the finish.
It’s too late to turn back, ‘cause I already did it.
I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a minute.
I fought hard and made it to the other side,
but they rooted for the man who died.
I’m not a fighter, I only did when I had to fight.
Sold my soul for a better life, don’t care about no afterlife.
I don’t feel ashamed, I made it in the game.
If you struggled how I did, you’d do the same.
The money I made done changed who I am.
Something to be proud of. Not ashamed who I am.
Lost some friends along the way,
but that’s a tax that the rich must pay.
Can’t see eye-to-eye with folks when I see beyond ‘em.
I’m unrelatable with rich people problems.
And these blood diamonds that I rock with confidence
make me morally poor, but I’m rich off of compliments.
Life’s a game that didn’t treat you fair.
I broke rules, so I ceased to care.
I wont stop till I’m billionaire, and I’m leaving it there.
But no one told me it’d be lonely at the finish.
It’s too late to turn back, ‘cause I already did it.
I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a minute.
I fought hard and made it to the other side,
but they rooted for the man who died.
I’m not a fighter, I only did when I had to fight.
Sold my soul for a better life, don’t care about no afterlife.
I don’t feel ashamed, I made it in the game.
If you struggled how I did, you’d do the same.
The money I made done changed who I am.
Something to be proud of. Not ashamed who I am.
Lost some friends along the way,
but that’s a tax that the rich must pay.
Can’t see eye-to-eye with folks when I see beyond ‘em.
I’m unrelatable with rich people problems.
And these blood diamonds that I rock with confidence
make me morally poor, but I’m rich off of compliments.
Life’s a game that didn’t treat you fair.
I broke rules, so I ceased to care.
I wont stop till I’m billionaire, and I’m leaving it there.
Written by tomgoonery
(Tommy.)
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THE GREENEST GOD
my god is green
as them hills
though i ain't
been up that high
and ain't likely goin'
and couldn't afford it
even if i had time
though i work work work
all the live long day
and all the live long night as well
my green god
got pockets so deep
my tendons
'bout to pop
and i still can't grab
me enough of him
to keep the lights on
and the baby fed
and gas in the car
but i keep on truckin'
like a trooper
like the good man i am
'cause a good man
works works works
'til his fingers bleed
and i swear i'm 'bout
to pull this tooth myself
my god
lives in visions
of high rollin'
in mansions o' plenty
(for he has many mansions)
and we dream
and pray
and scheme
and squeeze him
'til i bet he knows it
but there ain't
never enough
to spread his love
around to them who demand it
(though the TV says they're
going to cut my taxes
and that, my friend,
must be a good thing)
so praise the lord!
listen...
i had me two abes
and a george
tucked like a diamond
in my lint
but that ain't nothing
but some cheap meat
and enough gas to keep rollin'
and that, oh lord,
is what i'm a-gonna do
till the cows come home
and pigs fly
and all the other cliched
bullshit of the world
'cause poor is poor
and heaven waits
and there ain't nothin' like being broke
in the land o' the free
where a man can find fortune
in the damndest things
and the good times are just
one ten dollar scratch off away
(amen)
as them hills
though i ain't
been up that high
and ain't likely goin'
and couldn't afford it
even if i had time
though i work work work
all the live long day
and all the live long night as well
my green god
got pockets so deep
my tendons
'bout to pop
and i still can't grab
me enough of him
to keep the lights on
and the baby fed
and gas in the car
but i keep on truckin'
like a trooper
like the good man i am
'cause a good man
works works works
'til his fingers bleed
and i swear i'm 'bout
to pull this tooth myself
my god
lives in visions
of high rollin'
in mansions o' plenty
(for he has many mansions)
and we dream
and pray
and scheme
and squeeze him
'til i bet he knows it
but there ain't
never enough
to spread his love
around to them who demand it
(though the TV says they're
going to cut my taxes
and that, my friend,
must be a good thing)
so praise the lord!
listen...
i had me two abes
and a george
tucked like a diamond
in my lint
but that ain't nothing
but some cheap meat
and enough gas to keep rollin'
and that, oh lord,
is what i'm a-gonna do
till the cows come home
and pigs fly
and all the other cliched
bullshit of the world
'cause poor is poor
and heaven waits
and there ain't nothin' like being broke
in the land o' the free
where a man can find fortune
in the damndest things
and the good times are just
one ten dollar scratch off away
(amen)
Written by javalini
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Repeated Arrogance
As if dressed...
in top hats and tuxedos
a cane, a jaunty step
a nose to look down from
a cravat with a crest
It is as if...
he glides instead of walk
dances through the crowd
smiling, dashingly debonair
he thinks he is God's gift
Imagining that...
he speaks with marbles
in his mouth
swallowing them one by one
smiling, smooth as ping pong balls
He thinks...
he speaks pearls of artistic
expression, interprets Shakespeare
into words of obscure wisdom
recites his poems backward
Such a glorious person...
and yet from his pen
some doodles borrowed
from other books
appear, sparkling borrowed diamonds.
in top hats and tuxedos
a cane, a jaunty step
a nose to look down from
a cravat with a crest
It is as if...
he glides instead of walk
dances through the crowd
smiling, dashingly debonair
he thinks he is God's gift
Imagining that...
he speaks with marbles
in his mouth
swallowing them one by one
smiling, smooth as ping pong balls
He thinks...
he speaks pearls of artistic
expression, interprets Shakespeare
into words of obscure wisdom
recites his poems backward
Such a glorious person...
and yet from his pen
some doodles borrowed
from other books
appear, sparkling borrowed diamonds.
Written by Grace
(IDryad)
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The cost of a lost coin
Three pairs of thin boned legs
hung over the marble monument,
that swung a crumbling tribute
to the first death on a railway.
Seed heads swayed like flotsam
sticking to the oil soaked sleepers,
the overgrown sidings wilted in the heat
flattened hawthorns hid our tired bikes.
Large white rocks, lined the polish-topped rails,
so big they were hard to walk on.
Our two pence pieces had been placed on the track,
sitting back we waited for the 2:15 to Liverpool.
That was when I first felt it,
a steel echo, an unstoppable tremor.
Of course now I look back there were signs,
the counting down before I spoke,
the checking of my wardrobe door,
clothes folded three times each before
I could close the drawer.
The ten tonne wheels
hammered the queens face smooth
and sent the coins spinning,
as the tail of the train rattled away
we flocked like gulls over a fishing trawler.
I couldn’t find my crushed coin
and I couldn’t leave without it.
I turned every stone, my knees bleeding
in the heat, scouring the track for hours,
compelled to keep riding my derailment,
long after everyone else had gone.
hung over the marble monument,
that swung a crumbling tribute
to the first death on a railway.
Seed heads swayed like flotsam
sticking to the oil soaked sleepers,
the overgrown sidings wilted in the heat
flattened hawthorns hid our tired bikes.
Large white rocks, lined the polish-topped rails,
so big they were hard to walk on.
Our two pence pieces had been placed on the track,
sitting back we waited for the 2:15 to Liverpool.
That was when I first felt it,
a steel echo, an unstoppable tremor.
Of course now I look back there were signs,
the counting down before I spoke,
the checking of my wardrobe door,
clothes folded three times each before
I could close the drawer.
The ten tonne wheels
hammered the queens face smooth
and sent the coins spinning,
as the tail of the train rattled away
we flocked like gulls over a fishing trawler.
I couldn’t find my crushed coin
and I couldn’t leave without it.
I turned every stone, my knees bleeding
in the heat, scouring the track for hours,
compelled to keep riding my derailment,
long after everyone else had gone.
Written by Razzerleaf
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Pocket Watches, Knives and Belt Buckles
The older I get the less I place a value on wealth. It’s seems that the things I once considered valuable doesn’t really seem valuable anymore. However the sentimental value of things can bring more satisfaction and comfort than all the money in the world.
I have an old pocket watch that my grandfather gave me when I was 10 years old. I carry this watch still today. The watch hasn’t ran for the past 50 years. At the end of each day as I pull the watch from a pair of faded Levi’s, it still keeps time. A time of memories with my grandfather and life on his farm. These childhood memories are locked in time of a watch that brings comfort and a sense of gratification to my life.
I also carry a pocket knife. I’ve carried a knife since I was eight or nine years old. As a country boy raised in the south a pocket knife was standard issue. I have collected a lot of different knives over the years. I still have a lot of them, like my great grandfather’s, grandfather’s and father’s knives. My father gave me a Buck knife for a graduation present. I have other knives I collected along and along. My favorite knife is a knife that my wife gave me for our tenth anniversary. I have carried this knife for the past 18 years. It’s a daily reminder of our life together and all the memories we share. When life gets difficult I reach in my pocket and hold this knife, somehow life doesn’t seem as complicated.
Levi’s, cowboy boots and a belt buckles go hand in hand. I was taught growing up that a man always wore a belt. I wear a belt every day, I have a small collection of different belt buckles with belts. My favorite one has a picture of an American Indian, it reminds me of the statue “Appeal to the Great Spirit”. Native Americans and their history has always fascinated me. How their life and hardships should be a reminder how easily freedom can be taken away. I purchased this belt buckle in the summer of 1974 from a small country store owned by my great Uncle. I wore this buckle through school and most of my adulthood. It’s hard to put in words but it brings me a sense of peace and strength.
These small things I cherish, have no value... but they provide security that no amount of money can. I hope my children and grandchildren can find the same wealth in these items as I do.
I have an old pocket watch that my grandfather gave me when I was 10 years old. I carry this watch still today. The watch hasn’t ran for the past 50 years. At the end of each day as I pull the watch from a pair of faded Levi’s, it still keeps time. A time of memories with my grandfather and life on his farm. These childhood memories are locked in time of a watch that brings comfort and a sense of gratification to my life.
I also carry a pocket knife. I’ve carried a knife since I was eight or nine years old. As a country boy raised in the south a pocket knife was standard issue. I have collected a lot of different knives over the years. I still have a lot of them, like my great grandfather’s, grandfather’s and father’s knives. My father gave me a Buck knife for a graduation present. I have other knives I collected along and along. My favorite knife is a knife that my wife gave me for our tenth anniversary. I have carried this knife for the past 18 years. It’s a daily reminder of our life together and all the memories we share. When life gets difficult I reach in my pocket and hold this knife, somehow life doesn’t seem as complicated.
Levi’s, cowboy boots and a belt buckles go hand in hand. I was taught growing up that a man always wore a belt. I wear a belt every day, I have a small collection of different belt buckles with belts. My favorite one has a picture of an American Indian, it reminds me of the statue “Appeal to the Great Spirit”. Native Americans and their history has always fascinated me. How their life and hardships should be a reminder how easily freedom can be taken away. I purchased this belt buckle in the summer of 1974 from a small country store owned by my great Uncle. I wore this buckle through school and most of my adulthood. It’s hard to put in words but it brings me a sense of peace and strength.
These small things I cherish, have no value... but they provide security that no amount of money can. I hope my children and grandchildren can find the same wealth in these items as I do.
Written by buddydog
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The winner of this competition and any runners up were decided by public vote.
Thank you to the following members for voting:
Bluevelvete, Billy_Snagg, EdibleWords, AspergerPoet56, wilberfloss, nutbuster, Marks, Tallen, lepperochan, Phantom2426, Razzerleaf, cold_fusion, Ricky-Journals, TIG, PoetsRevenge, carinthian, PittinixDesigns, deathrainsdown, mRJohnSickyith, Remy_L
Thank you to the following members for voting:
Bluevelvete, Billy_Snagg, EdibleWords, AspergerPoet56, wilberfloss, nutbuster, Marks, Tallen, lepperochan, Phantom2426, Razzerleaf, cold_fusion, Ricky-Journals, TIG, PoetsRevenge, carinthian, PittinixDesigns, deathrainsdown, mRJohnSickyith, Remy_L
