Hi all, my apologies for not letting you know beforehand. I left today for vacation and most likely will not be back until Sunday. I may post some writing that I do on the trip once I get back, but I will not be posting again until then. Thanks everybody for reading and sticking with me!
Tag Archives: money
Drive Safe, OK?
Afternoon, y’all. Much again to do today. Never a break, it would seem. It’ll all be done soon enough and then! We shall have our time. A good time. Better every day. I hope you enjoy the poem today!
Auditing
Do the budget
Don’t you fudge it
Find yourself the time
Don’t you lose a dime
Put it together
Don’t sweat the weather
Six more weeks of winter
Turns the deck to splinter
I’m writing a poem
It’s coming together
Just a couple birds of a feather
Someday you’ll know them
How to feel?
Akin to teal
Or maybe to steel?
Find your mind among the real
Let’s Do It, Let’s Fall In Love
Consider it, my friends. To be in Paris in the 1920s, to escape and find that magic! To take it and bring it back to the present to find yourself and everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Take that magic and that majesty you found in the past and apply it to the world at large. Oh, to be in a wonderful world of wizards and sorcerers, casting their magics on pages and canvases and the keys of pianos. What a wonderful world it will be, filled with art and song.
Carnival Comes to Paris
There’s flying and there’s dying
Both ending on the ground
Hearing that one final sound
Make refuge there, in burial mound
A man in a three-piece suit
Playing the piano
Can’t help but fall in love
Fly away, little dove
All affairs fair at the fair, long as you can pay the fare
Car broke down
Grab the spare
It’s a long way back to town
One day soon we’ll be back home
One day soon I’ll read that tome
Evil little lexicon
Stare me down, thereupon
Sitting on the shelf
Bore your holes
Whack those moles
Cross the bridge and pay the tolls
Find yourself and find our souls
I Am Angry
I am more angry than I have ever been. Seething. Burning. I am undervalued. Undersold. Powerless and voiceless in a world that would forget my life and experiences and relationships as if they were a blip on nobody’s radar, were I to disappear today. It’s not that no one cares. Many, many people care. I am not alone. Far from it. I am loved by so many people. I know this. I value this. It is the many who treat this world as a playground, the many who treat this world as a plaything, to be used and thrown away. Opportunities are scant, pay is a pittance, the climate in decline, the true Great War on the horizon… How are we to not be disillusioned? How are we to not be angry? Lacking purpose and guidance my generation trudges on through the slowly hardening concrete poured by generations before, hardening and slowing our progress, turning the Earth into a desolate wasteland we alone will survive to navigate. With no guidance, we must find our own way. We must save ourselves and our world. No one else will. And I am angry.
Eaten Away
there is beauty in this slow decay
extant expression
deterioration
hazel eyes, so much light
a facade, hidden from sight
a mind gone bad
past its due date
just a tad
Coindexter
Good morning! No intense emotions today, as much as I know everybody loves those (more are coming soon, worry not). I wanted to post something that most people could relate to. Here I’ve got a poem about how hard it can be to exist in a world where money seems to be everything, and a world in which I’d just like to be a simple mushroom farmer.
Rich Taste
epicurean delights
turkish midnights
all the world’s many sights
all the fool’s many slights
flying far above and wide
eyeing and spying the other side
hoping and praying to take a ride
perhaps by lead of some great guide
how hard it is to venture
when one so feels indentured
a world apart from adventure
left only to this debenture
toiling, roiling and fairing so well
i only wish that i could tell
seeking to rise, casting a spell
only to find it already fell
simple questions, simple answers
easy to say, amidst your tenures
how am i to find, among the firs
a way to join these far flung sers?
i wish not for excess
but for some modicum of success
a world in which i have time for recess
a world in which under which i face no more duress
spellbound daydreamers await their letter
hoping someday that it gets better
bound by unseen fetter
wrists chafing and redder
one hard day after another
calling for your mother
calling to be smothered
knowing only bother
i know what i want and how to get there
though my coffers lie bare
anxious while they stare
if only they happened to care
Poems by Sam 