"accounting" poems
Buti pa ang bank at book may reconciliation
Samantalang tayo, wala naba talagang reconciliation?
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 12:58 AM UTC
Simple words escape ever so parted lips
Voices of the sweetest seduction
My undeniable weakness
“I want you”
Whispers of the finest intentions
The warmth of your breath brushes across my ear
Fingertips glide down the shapeliest of curves
Caressing jewels
Excitement builds
Moans escape...
Drenched in the sweetest place
Passion
Inhale, Exhale
The deadliest of pleasures
My needs, your wants
All accounting for desperate measures
Start, Stop
Location is no matter
Subtract clothes
Divide legs
I speak in tongues your body loves to hear
Tracing lines in ways you cannot manage to bear
I am the worst of teasers.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
I spent last night
Crunching numbers
10
Times you led me on
9
Nights we stayed up talking
8
Weeks since you decided I wasn’t worth it
7
Crushed up poems on the floor of my room
6
Outfits thrown aside to make sure I look my best
5
Days I spent trying to get over you
4
Friends that know what we did
3
3 a.m FaceTime calls
2
Coats of mascara
1
Big regret
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
Acknowledge that we are each our own common denominator!
The sum of all our parts, brought to account !
The book stops with us!
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 10:44 AM UTC
No accounting for taste.
What you dislike
and called a waste
is what I like.
You call cheese,honey
I called it bitter pill.
You prefer a monkey
while chimp makes me chill.
You like worshipping sun
I love worshipping God
It really fun
you called mine odd.
I lived in tradition
You lived in modernity
But in addition
I lived in christianity.
You urged me to study biology
I urged you to learn Shakespeare
You want me to live by astrology
Let poetry be your spear.
You prefer winter
that is your choice
Mine is summer
when I'll rejoice.
When you lay on your bunk,
you hear the music,rock
but I listen to punk
who should be given a sock?
You love a black lady
with long dark hair
I love a white baby
to be my heir.
You desire democracy
as system of your
government
I desire theocracy
it had the best management.
Let us be a union
Let there be chaste
Let's tolerate each
one's opinion
for no accounting
for taste.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
In my heart, you are an asset
But in my mind, a liability
You are an entry I can't forget
That's slowly shaking my equity.
Loving you is an understatement
For a beauty's carrying value
And so I made an adjustment
Of the love that I must issue.
But your heart had a preference
For someone who's not me
Who can give you more dividends
Than a hopeful ordinary.
All my hope was expensed
For such unrecoverable loss
And the business I've commenced
Resulted in an opportunity cost.
And so you went depreciating
Ending this going concern
There's this pain accumulating
From a romance unearned.
Now I'm left here to close
All the journals I've made
Correct the errors I chose
For a love that I would trade.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC
Broke
Unable to finalize any purchase
Checking
For change in the last places that one searches
Insufficient
To the point I'm unable to ward off the throes of destitution
Bankrupted
By devaluing those who have not made restitution
Insolvent
To the point of having to fight off the urge to curse
Disallowed by the prose that places value and give credit....to verse
Denied
Any credit accrued....maybe even unearned
Reevaluation
With no accounting for the time you
SPENT
Learning what you have learned
Depreciation or Appreciation
Cannot be quantified by the lack of someone.saying thanks
Interest will eventually be of value
Once accrued... but for now I must accept
That I'm simply overdrawn at my memory banks
Investment in my own value
Will allow me growth
In my own ...
......personal
Checking account
Helping me in balancing the books
Keeping me payed up and happy
BY
Always giving others their true valuation
So that ego doesnt become a currency
That is subject to... such a devastating inflation
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
In a sermon, the preacher says:
*"The Lord created us in his image,
all who desecrate themselves
too destroy a part of God."*
I've murdered pets and
alphabetised people by
sense and style and laughs like
a rack of dresses.
I've kissed girls just because
they said they could never like me
like that
as if their lips were some
sacred maiden's blush and not
a pair of fleshy rims.
As if I couldn't read their
***** little lesbian fantasies
underneath those
angel faces.
Susan from accounting thinks I need
to see a therapist. I think she needs to see
a mirror. We don't really get along, but ****
maybe if drink enough
these clocks
these blue collars
these billboards with the pearly white teeth
won't look like straightjackets anymore.
I have this thing where
sometimes I'm just so tired
of being a body.
The world's a ******* advertisement,
Everyone with their scripted
good mornings and
chemical feelings
down to the last **** t.
My skin is a cage
and I'll strip it off like
a *****
Why be happy when you
could be interesting?
Love like a bluejay,
Fists in our stomachs-
The headlights of a car coming
at 80 miles an hour straight at you,
pummeling in a stream of light.
The taste of a cigarette after
it's been on someone else's lips.
Don't you dare tell me you understand.
When I tell her this
my therapist only smiles,
Darling it's only purgatory.
Allen knew. Nietzsche knew. Woolf knew.
In all our hearts-
We've already killed God.
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
The Jewish brothers in Defiance were definitely tough.
One wanted to **** many Germans, the other to save many Jews.
The German soldiers were expendable, unmarried, unremarkable.
Each little death was very little, a little spittle in a big wind.
Fast forward to my friend's son's bar mitzvah or daughter's
coming of age ceremony. Food is abundant, the music frenetic,
the rabbi paid. Gifts generous but not obvious.
Wealth does not obviate death and we know it.
Here too we have natural leaders. Youth basketball coaches,
school principals and, again, interpreters of prayers. When
violence comes to the neighborhood they are who we'll first look to
for governance and guns. Unless have you read The Admirable
Crichton?
Boredom, boredom conflated with loneliness, may be a sign
of good luck. To live a good length or light year away from man's
bad breath, allergenic perfumes, sickening flatulence and shed hair.
But you are drawn back into the debate about perfection by your own
********
While teaching at the old city jail I have learned this: only meditation
upon the periodic table can save your soul. From itself.
Imagining the world without the self will make you whole.
What else is there to say. Do less until one thing's done well.
After the war the brothers started a small trucking company
in the Bronx. Grateful for such peace, the accounting
was relaxing. They thought back to how they met their wives, naked
before the bombs and bullets. How they lost and found themselves in
what happened.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
the blank face of a blow up doll beneath a numberless clock.
a sleeping bag outside of a boy.
two brothers rumored to have nursed
at the wrists of their father
to reach the same
high note.
gripping a rolling pin with both hands
my mother on the tin roof of a neighbor’s shed.
a dove circling a church bell
to elude the crow
it was.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
Are there lawyers in heaven?
who sells fish in a Seven-Eleven?
How do you prove guilt or innocence,
with the devil conspicuous in his absence?
Are there barbers or pastors in Heaven?
Until the End-of-Days, it is unproven;
If we are to do some speculation,
Better to do more charitable donations.
But one profession, I quite understand,
whether in hell or God's Disneyland,
that will not make a good living;
that's doing double entry accounting.
So where do accountants go, you ask;
now you really need an oxygen mask;
In hell, in heaven, or anywhere you look,
there's just no place to cook the books.
Someone may now ask about exorcists,
I hate to answer, but I just can't resist;
ask your grandma or grandpa,
they are in a real big dilemma.
In heaven, no demons to trouble you,
In hell, there are more than quite a few;
In heaven, all are good, so no originality,
In hell, who works for nothing for Eternity?
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 5:09 AM UTC
I Intend Inspiring Indians Internationally
After Accounting All Aspiring Appointments
These Thermal Things Though Tastefully Testing
She Seldom Sleeps Some Sultry-Smothery Styles
Often Opening On Object-Orifice Of Operation
Crudely Caring Cant Cross Covering Case
About All Astral And Attractive Allocations
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 4:46 AM UTC
I see Beauty in a **********
Whose feelings you cannot convolute.
I see a Businesswoman in a **********
A **** with brains, destitute
she made a business plan.
At least she did business studies and
accounting at school, sells her body to earn,
A living.
I see a princess in a **********
because no man can resist her.
You know when she starts curling her hair
Even Pastors **********
then we bring the Saints Holiness into debate.
Have you ever seen a ********** aspirate
"I want you" ?
**** Her voice alone gives ****** healing,
Arouses ****** feelings,
Pumps vessels, frightened by the spark in her
eyes, hormone adrenalin give your heart rate a
fast accelerating beatings.
I see charisma in a **********
Married men,leave their wives in bed and
creep to the streets corner just to cuddle with
prostitutes, it was I who said, there's beauty in
a **********
I see Beauty in a **********
I've seen Loyalty in a **********
Yes I did. How? What do I mean?
Because she ***** all men in the same manner
and charge them all the identical amount.
That is Loyalty man.
I said, I see Beauty in a ********** and
I wasn't lying.
There is Beauty in a **********
The Beauty that makes Preachers at church
retire,
The Beauty that make married men divorce,
The Beauty that makes Jay Z forget Beyonce,
The Beauty that makes Julius Malema forgets
his political position
The Beauty that makes Jesus Christ want to
come back, to save his descendants from sin.
The Beauty of a **********
Men have seen it.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
walking out of the liquor store
wine bottles double ******
asphalt concrete curb stone
the great expanse of the universe
the mundane
welded water tight
that Escher print
of ribboned minds
personal accounting
money as abstraction
automobile documents
layers of bureaus
the great and powerful
realm of ideas
shared fallen history
the strike of the pen
ideals ethics
the avoidance of sin
cold is coming
warmth is rare
plug into existential wetness
yet suffer banality
Friday, November 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Dread the free time
But still can't wait to have it
To seize peace and quiet
By my force of habit
And flee far away
From a central locale
Of a jobless, impoverished
Human garbage pail
Full of wasted potential
Unutilized power
Another kid lost to disease
By the hour
Devoured from inside out,
Parasitic
A malnourished mortality
Fated statistic
Accounting for little more than
A UN
Detrimental development
Index embellishment
IMF, World Bankers swooping in
Heaven-sent
Millions lent
Never spent
Back on the people
Just keep them like sheep
Marching on to the steeple
And reap what they sow
How so little they yield
Until cityscapes swallow up
Forest and field
And behind their most opulent
Optic facades
In their decadence festers
The graces of Gods
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
When Spirit scrolls down to my line
on Life's finite spreadsheet,
may I've done much to bring a smile
before keystroke Delete.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
I don't know what to think
when i'm staring in your eyes
more akin to speak
in blind lullabies.
than logistify
my heightened
surmise
in flight
to somewhere nice
if only for tonight
come with me this night
ignite
the cindered fires
of our desires
and incite
the throws of light
in **** obscurity
moaning through the sincerity
of our oddities
gleaming in the rarity
of our academy of lust
all or bust
entrust the accounting
of blaspheme
to the enemies
of poverty
and shove me
all the way down your throat
fill you
instill you
with the hope
of a million
grinning in **********
of the tangled mental merchants
of pretty lights and custom curtains
drawn at first light
dispersing
amongst cursing pedestrians
prior to ***********
of forceful ************
with an another human
lightened strikes the truant
in 9 months of fluent
agony
just imagining little Timmy
has me scavenging for a shimmy
to escape
its social ****
to a blind ape
still patting his head
don't be mislead
by ***** carriers
pack your own barriers
and prepare for the scarier
side of a mans mind
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
From my first cry
Mother's embrace, father's joyful face
Medicine says its for air
But for me it was for joy
I already knew I was blessed
A place really home
Tonka toys, Christmas joys
Where my heart stayed
And summer lingered
I grew up loved and blessed
Created two measures
Bug and kitten, we're smitten
Depths, heights, tears, joys
Holding on, letting go
Sacred duty, honor and blessing
And 28 years loved
Best friends, make amends
She gets me
I get her
True love, my blessing
There is no equity
My share, is unfair
There's no accounting
For beauty or love
Or all my blessings.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
Dead dwell beyond the Pale, in quick silver mist.
Whispering eternal, within their sleep.
Waiting patiently for Raven's angelic kiss,
for their souls, upon Blackbird wings, to sweep.
Whispering eternal, within their sleep.
Now entombed in stone, cast by their sins.
For their soul, upon Blackbird wings to sweep,
the long journey of forgiveness, now begins.
Now entombed, in stone, cast by their sins,
accounting for their life and of deeds done.
The long journey of forgiveness, now begins.
As Raven waits, with blessed, cold steel gun.
~*~
Accounting for their life and of deeds done,
so close to Heaven's gate, yet denied.
As Raven waits, with blessed, cold steel gun,
to release pardoned souls, once sin enshrined.
So close to Heaven's gate, yet denied,
along the shores of mist, boiling cold.
To release pardoned souls, once sin enshrined,
steel shot will kiss stone, breaking its hold.
Along the shores of mist, boiling cold.
As upon cruel rocks, of shore, she roams,
steel shot will kiss stone, breaking its hold,
to allow their souls, at last, to soar home.
As upon cruel rocks of shore, she roams.
Waiting patiently for Raven's angelic kiss,
to allow their souls, at last, to soar home,
dead dwell beyond the Pale, in quick silver mist.
~*~
Jan 27, 2011
Jan 27, 2011 at 11:18 AM UTC
She spends most of her days in doldrums,
always segregated from the whole crowd.
Everyone uses her acts and games against her.
It seemed like a game and they liked it.
But now it is toture,
she is being bullied
she fears coming to school,
she fails to catch some sleep at now,
their words keep ringing in her ears at night.
Today in the morning it was her shoe lace,
after assisting them
the only thanks they give is by making her feel misrable.
Now this afternoon she is crying,
and it all seems like a joke to them.
"Nomathemba help me with Accounting !"
they call out everyday.
After her help they become ironic,
"she is a distinction student".
They make her feel belittled.
"Dont worry you will be Accountant one day...
Because Accountants are greedy too"
i am not willing to support them,
their games are surely bad.
She fails to laugh,
nor smile,
her heart filled with pain.
She is a victim of emotional abuse,
and am the only one who seems to care.
What happened to the unity amongst us?
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 8:08 AM UTC
To Ezra Pound
These are the names of the companies that have made
money from this war
nineteenhundredsixtyeight Annodomini fourthousand
eighty Hebraic
These are the Corporations who have profited by merchan-
dising skinburning phosphorous or shells fragmented
to thousands of fleshpiercing needles
and here listed money millions gained by each combine for
manufacture
and here are gains numbered, index'd swelling a decade, set
in order,
here named the Fathers in office in these industries, tele-
phones directing finance,
names of directors, makers of fates, and the names of the
stockholders of these destined Aggregates,
and here are the names of their ambassadors to the Capital,
representatives to legislature, those who sit drinking
in hotel lobbies to persuade,
and separate listed, those who drop Amphetamine with
military, gossip, argue, and persuade
suggesting policy naming language proposing strategy, this
done for fee as ambassadors to Pentagon, consul-
tants to military, paid by their industry:
and these are the names of the generals & captains mili-
tary, who know thus work for war goods manufactur-
ers;
and above these, listed, the names of the banks, combines,
investment trusts that control these industries:
and these are the names of the newspapers owned by these
banks
and these are the names of the airstations owned by these
combines;
and these are the numbers of thousands of citizens em-
ployed by these businesses named;
and the beginning of this accounting is 1958 and the end
1968, that static be contained in orderly mind,
coherent and definite,
and the first form of this litany begun first day December
1967 furthers this poem of these States.
December 1, 1967
3.8k
I just want to love you
...I've decided.
And it's not what/you're/expecting
It's not what you've.come.to.know.
You see,....as I walked with the stars
tonight;
It occurred to me....
....What most call 'love' isn't so...at all...
What most call love...
Is merely a loan....
They give their 'love'
But if not returned...(it is expected to be returned{and often with interest})
Well,...there is disappointment/resentment/even the///antonym...{howdaresheafteralltheloveI've....}
That kind of 'love' is merely a bar//gain...
That kind is a ne-go-ti-at-tion of give/and/ receive...that.is.a.......loan...
That is Banking 101.
I'm not going to loan you.
I've decided {iamhelplesstoresist} to love you...
...I am in love with you...
And who doesn't love being in love...?
I mean,...I'm elated
I could burst just thinking your name
I am grinning like a fool [when I think of things I want to tell you]
And my step is lighter>And my heart is fuller> And my laugh is quicker>and the world is a warmer place....
...Like this...
And I am grateful.
...and I need nothing from ...you
You never have to even... know...
I just get to selfishly enjoy loving you {eyes,mouth,voice,words}
On
My
Own
So,..I've decided to. l o v e. you
.....And I'm so h/a/p/p/y.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 1:30 AM UTC
it will be, you know
1.
small bird
shivering
kind hand
covering
warmth
spreading
destined
for life
2.
her well-trained cats
at the door
ants always spared (!)
on sill
with sugared saucer
poultry in the yard
collecting deep-yolked eggs
making gooseberry jam
and sweet, strong tea
with hot milk
just for me
she taught me inner grace
and the real meaning
of quietness
just birds chattering away
whistling wondrous
in fig trees
laden with heavy fruit
awaiting her deft hands
how I loved her so
accounting exams
interrupted
in sixth grade
sorry
she's gone, dear
dumbstruck silence
they ask
why I'm not crying?
3.
kismet peeps in
to embrace you
and kiss your brow
you try to sidestep
and stub a toe
knock your head
in the end:
full-circle prayer
que sera...sera
S T, 28 June 2013
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
i.
when it opens the bomb
it knows
like my brain knows
what it sees
ii.
homicide grief
is a recording
god’s message
speaks to
iii.
eight years old
she leaves the trampoline
in her body’s
fearful
accounting
of self
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC