"dosh" poems
Sent his woman a letter in French.
In obsession, The Marquis De Sade.
As in thy passion thy ***** thou didst wrench.
Thy being held high in disregard.
Obsessed with the perverse.
Creator of ******* slavery cruel.
Written his violence as ****** curse.
This power crazed man did his harem rule.
In ******* and pains.
Lashed up in a gimps.
Whipping with chains.
Wants lots of dosh, wishes of pimps.
Modern day tale of the Marquis De Sade.
A cruel ******* whose *** was hard.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
Verse 1
on the stock market floor lay losses galore
and in time they'd be redeemed
a price collapse saw the upward trend end
it would be a long haul pulling it out of the pall
ooh, ooh and in time they'd be redeemed
busted at the seams were all the investment schemes
putting paid to fortune's prosperity
the dream run had less future's equity
New York's exchange took a hammering
Chorus
ooh, troubled was the trading
ooh, troubled was the trading
Verse 2
as we watched the steep downward slide
the money men didn't feel like smiling
a wrecking bear had hit finances in the kitty
shocking became the fiscal outlook
Chorus
ooh, troubled was the trading
ooh, troubled was the trading
Verse 3
and the homeless dwellers in the slums
look in bins for something to eat
and they've no dosh to buy a passage out
and this is their unfair place in society
once the cream could be skimmed
yet nothing is left but life's grieving
on and on the losing streak goes
there's always a cycle of poverty
and troubled was the trading
resigned to fate's course of lows
the market floor held in distress
gloom beset the bright lights in dull tones
your redeeming breath can be inhaled
an injection of capital will aid
ghetto dwellers all in want
wealth is but for the few
monied folk posses the long bond
forgotten all the people in need
values riding on a share price
who is listening to the tune
it tells of crash and of boom
this we all know too well
Outro
and in time they'd be redeemed
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
I want to win the lotto
I want to win some dosh
I'm fed up of no money
I want to win the lot
I do all of me numbers each and every week
I'm lucky if a tenner comes falling at me feet
they say its one in lots and lots but I don't really care
cos all i want to say to you is I'm a millionaire
been saying this for so long now my mates think I'm all mad
this time its gonna be my night... I am the lucky lad
so when you see some flash new car go zipping by your eyes
you'll know the person in it its me with fortune pie
Ill share all of my wealth with friends and family from afar
a charity so close to me a tear that breaks my heart
a set up for a life of good and free of bills to pay
a golden ticket full of dreams today that is my day
May 8, 2012
May 8, 2012 at 3:48 PM UTC
Now I know why she ditched me,
And I don't blame her for doing so.
Her family checked my horoscope,
They figured that I have a problem.
My horoscope has the Martian jinx,
My Kundli has the Manglik dosh.
It means my wife would die early,
Yes according to an algorithm.
Such a stupid illogical reason,
Letting the stars govern them.
I can not do anything about it,
Let her go to someone not Manglik.
I will wait for someone more scientific,
Looking not at the Kundli but only my love.
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
When the King came down to the counting house and found all his money had gone
he ranted on as only Kings can in the Kingly way
for a year and a day,
which was surprising but only in that it reminded me of the pea green boat and the ***** cat
the loss of his dosh had nothing whatsoever to do with that.
The King was now potless
not a penny to spare
he couldn't sell knighthoods or forested woods,
he was as they say,'boracic lint'
skint
a pauper.
His Daughter,
the lady Jamille
cried a lot
for now she'd to deal with the peasantry and pleasantly so,
she had to learn how to grow,
cabbages,turnips and broad beans it seems she did well enough to feed the family with vegetables
she could stuff tomatoes with mince because quince was 'orf' the menu
she made ragout and that was a mess,spilled it all down her best lavender dress and she cried a lot more.
Being poor was not good and being knightless and single was worse,she was sure she'd been cursed by some well versed old witch who was concocting a spell to leave her quite naked,not even a stitch to her name,
I did mention her name was Jamille?
yes
Jamille learnt to steal and to lie and to cheat
a normal occupation
if you have to stand on your own two feet (in shoes which she stole)
She got caught in the end and in the courts of the justice was ordered to mend her ways.
The old King was ashamed but could hardly be blamed for this circumstance which caused him such grief
it was down to the thief who stole all of his money and the same thief pretends now to be posh,
well he would do with all of that dosh
but we know different don't we.
Clothes may make the man as much as any amount of money can but
it does not make you a king and vice versa,
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
It's getting to be posh
all these new folk
with their dosh.
buying up the property
leaving nowt
for you and me.
It's not the same
not as it was
because,
our street's got
a brand new name.
'Petunia close'
sounds like a dose of something bad,
awful sad,
that it's getting to be a bit posh round here,
next year,
I won't recognise
the pie and mash shop
the garage pit stop
it will all be gucci,reebok
smoochy bars,
fast and frantic tarty cars.
I'm moving out to Birmingham
at least up there they still
eat spam,
I may move further North to Carlisle
they'll not change
not for a long while.
Anyway
I made a fortune
holding on
not selling too soon.
(The problem is,
not the solution
or gentrifying
or more pollution
it's the weeding out
and in their place
making space for
evolution)
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
Scratchy chin rubbing
against the forehead lightly
Dosh de Itchy-chan!
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
A bit skint,
so,
I thought a 3D printer could print me some dosh,
now I'm under the cosh and
heading for clink,
you wouldn't think it was right,
I might see if a 3d printer can
print for me
a file in a cake,
but it's got to be fake or
I'd
print for me
a sunny sea and golden sands,
in the hands of man a 3D printer can
be dangerous.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
did i win? ,was i rich ?,damm them numbers ..nought came in
bet my soul ,didna save my skin ,still i lost win no win
so its dosh ,cash less me but im not poor with family
heard success is raising the bar ...bar of life or bar of strife
I have the best ,family life with health and child.. and ...what a wife
so when its measured in jobs and work ,forget that charge its love to shine .....
who will be there at your death ?,your boss who you worked for blood and sweat ??
your wife and kids and family grief ..they will cry and need relief
so when success is in your hand ...feed the love and understand
family first and all to follow,money aint success just sorrow
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 6:33 AM UTC
A lot has happened since I wrote last:
The buzz of the university hive,
The blossom of a love, perhaps,
The sunken ship of a recent dive
Resurrected by society maps.
The gallop into some part-time tosh –
The push and heave of a new routine.
Assurance of some Christmas dosh
(About as sure as part-time could mean.)
The stress of snow that assures my fears,
The irritancy of an icy day,
I am now an adult, it appears,
And my childhood life has flown away
To a warmer place on Cayman sands -
A place I know I will never return,
For while I may travel to Cayman lands
My Cayman childhood was left to burn.
It is icy pastures I now graze
And snow that keeps me trapped away
Where temptation begins its seduction phase...
I stick to my decision that day
For now I am happy and the future begins:
My directional debut lies in wait
And a possible partnership to be kings?
A production team? We’ll leave it to fate.
Exams beckon, I’ll deal with them first.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
i’ve blown all my dosh
on a brand new Bosch!
my clothes will be super clean
with this amazing new machine
i’ve burnt all my dosh
singing swish, swash, swosh,
singing splish, splash, splosh,
a ladies got to wash!
i’m in love with my new Bosch!
Oct 12, 2023
Oct 12, 2023 at 4:07 PM UTC
Is life just one long sick practical joke.
Angels seek the living.
Just to choke them with their holy smoke.
Get born.
Be reliant.
In growth so defiant.
Marriage is an institution.
Leads to mental institutions.
When as parent strict.
Raise them with rods of iron.
Or maybe kid gloves.
But abuse them not.
Financially amuse them!
You work to chuck them all your dosh.
As if you always have enough.
Then when your money.
That you earned.
You have the audacity to spend.
They make you feel floods of guilt.
You feel like you're not their friend.
In a lifetime game of let's pretend.
Start to ache as you grow old.
Besmirch your comments as you write.
Believing youth.
Gives them the right.
To laugh at she of poetry.
Who once bounced them upon her knee.
Now decried for gifted brains.
Jotted in eccentricity.
And then how dare she.
She goes and dies.
Oh well, save your tears.
As no-one cries!~
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
When you are at a swimming pool, and you see a dog, you know that it will be pushed into the pool by a cat.
then it is frowning, like grumpy cat
and humans are laughing
and it goes on youtube
and you've been framed
here comes the dosh £$€
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 5:00 AM UTC
You have to drag yourself
Just to keep the dosh coming
To keep kinfolk from starving
Despite all these heavy lifting
You enter that poisonous atelier
Inside a cubicle, sit on your chair
Play staring games with computer screen
Drink a juice of coffee bean
That place, a modern day slavery ring
Where your ego is bruised and badly beaten
They own you 'cause they give you payslips
But even with that you know it ain't worth it
But that place isn't at fault
It's those who own the vault
They keep to them what's inside
They won't share, they hide
Under a mask of kindness
They advertise false incentives
But they won't give what you deserve
'Cause it belongs in their pockets
They won't listen to your pleads
Neither tend to your needs
Silently blackmail you instead
And then there goes your thread
Your thread, closer to inch
Your patience about to ditch
You know you'll burst sooner or later
They'll regret it all, when with them, you're finally over
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
an international writer's strike
was called to-day
for this fraternity
are seeking a little more pay
their working conditions
are truly bad
so they've gone
and done something rad
their placards
you'll see on avenues
they'll be saying
we're bereft of revenue
a terrible shock
to the world this is
all the writers
taking leave of their biz
reporters won't be
reporting a jolly thing
scholars shall of articles
be withdrawing
poets ceasing to scribe
lines of verse
as they've not enough dosh
to fill the purse
industrial action
needed to be pursued
writers can't abide
being *******
the federation
of quill employees
only want a small increase
in writing fees
it is hoped that some
resolution can be found
as the public require words
to be spread around
the dispute's negotiations
are at a vital stage
may we soon see
a paragraph on the page
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
I see Milka outside the farmhouse
feeding chickens
she's still in her dressing gown
as I ride up the drive
she stops and waves to me
I park my bike against the fence
and walk towards her
Mum's out
Milka says
Dad's on the farm
the brothers are out
on a shoot for dosh
I look at her standing there
forget to dress?
I say
or is nightwear
the new fashion?
I got up late
and Dad asked me
to feed the hens
and I thought I’d best do it
before I forgot again
she says
the hens peck around her
making hens sounds
want a drink of coffee?
she says
sure
I say
so she throws the last
of the chicken feed at them
and we go inside the farmhouse
and she puts the kettle
on the hob and gets two
mugs down from a cupboard
and spoons coffee
into each one
what if your mum comes in now
and sees you in your nightwear
and me here too?
I say
so what?
she says
just saying that's all
I say
she sighs and looks
out the window
I’m on
she says
on what?
I say
she stares at me
you know the scourge
the big bleed
or auntie's here
or whatever
she says moodily
o right
I say
falling into what she means
shame that is
I say
sitting in a chair
by the kitchen table
the whistle on the kettle sounds
and she pours water
into the two mugs
milk? sugar?
she says
in a moody voice
milk and one sugar
I say
she plonks sugar
into my mug
and tips milk
from a white jug
into both mugs
and puts my mug
on the table
and her own mug
on the table
and sits facing me
where we going?
she says
no where dressed
as you are
I say
when I'm dressed?
she says
we could go to the flicks
and see that Elvis film
I say
she pulls a face
boring sitting at the back
necking and kissing
with others
she says
what then?
I say
she sips her coffee
and looks at me
could go to the seaside
she says
get a bus
I sip my coffee
and stare at her
ok if you want
I say
but I’ve no money
she says
and Mum'll not lend me any
as I owe her money already
so what then?
I say
I don't know
she says
looking at her mug
and holding it
with both hands
you could come to my place
and play records
and lay on my bed
and listen to the music
I say
what about your parents
won't they mind me
being there and in your room?
she says
nothing is going
to happen is it
so why worry?
I say
she sighs and sips her drink
I guess so
she says
and after she's finished her drink
she goes off to dress.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
Go out.
Buy beautiful clothes.
Dress for vanity's sake.
Spend buckets of dosh,.
To make you look posh.
It's so sublime.
All rather petty.
The real being lives under the clothes.
Beneath that mop of tangled hair may dwell a diamond.
A bright blue sapphire that catches the sun and plays with it.
An emerald that sparkles in the grass.
A precious stone that's eternally yours.
What more could any man want.
(C) Livvi
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 6:34 AM UTC
Crack heads are broken.
Got busted today.
Speed freaks are dashing.
They're running away.
Coke heads are scheming and plotting with glee.
Doleful of finance, next hits for free.
Signing on,
Dosh all gone.
Up the noses one supposes.
Broken noses smelling roses.
Maybe the vein, all a game.
And the corrupt minister adjusts his wig.
Hoping desperately no one will twig
He's as bad as the rest, drugging taking pest.
Nations corrupt vexation.
(C) LIVVI
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
you got to sell it man?!
no good raving
no good reason
no good talent-
means nowt-
you got
to be liked
that is why!
look at vinny-?!
no good dying
yes,it is
sometimes..
then the world
can sigh and
wring it´s hands
and make some
serious dosh!-
you slice an ear..
Aug 16, 2023
Aug 16, 2023 at 5:08 AM UTC
A guitar case with no music in, owned by
the old woman who can't sing.
He sweeps the comb through her straggly hair,
What no money and nobody cares.
He wipes the burning tears from her pretty eyes.
Listens to her worried sighs.
She's concerned about a lack of dosh.
Christmas is coming, oh golly gosh.
He, is the fellow with the overgrown belly and the beard of white,
Waiting for Christmas eve.
Bring on that night.
His name by now you must be aware is really Santa Claus,
This year he's really scared.
With no toys for his haversack.
Due to lack of funds.
A sleigh in need of service.
Reindeer nibbling rotten carrots.
**** Horrible.
And the sprouts are full of wind.
His workshop staff redundant,
More silent, than a winter's night upon a turkey farm.
Outside,the local families gather beneath last year's yule .
This year, everybody's skint
Lit the bonfire with stones of flint.
Perfect purpose,
Free fuel.
Carols echo noisily outside the house next door.
"Disappear" she said in a very loud voice.
Wait a few weeks before you rejoice.
It's way too early,
"Go", she said.
"Please, please, I beg of you no more.
As yet, at least.
It's much too soon.
Wait until December, to have a cheery feast.
I guess it's your choice."
(c)LIVVI
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
Don’t need my ‘full English’ served
On a giant rectangular slab
Don’t need a dressed salad garnish
With my bacon, sausage and egg
Don’t need vine-on cherry tomatoes
Give me canned ones in juice instead
And though I’ve scoured this ridiculous slab
Can I **** find a slice of fried bread?!
And where is my builder’s tea?
English breakfast or Earl Grey’s the choice
But cutlery won’t stand up in either
I want Tetley’s, nowt else will suffice
Oh, what has happened
To the greasy spoon?
This ‘N8 Brunch’
Is loony tunes
10 of my squid
For two brittle half rashers
That crumble to dust
When faced with my gnashers
One measly egg
Yet a goblet of beans
Presented as if made
Of priceless things
Resplendent on said slab
In a vessel all of their own
Yet still I detest these things
And deign to leave them alone
And every cuppa you have
Costs an additional fee
No bottomless beverages here
No meal deal where your tipple is free
This wasn’t always the case
But gentrification is setting in
Prices soar, pretension is rife
Poshification of everything
I love London toon
Particularly Crouch End
But I’m northern at heart
And it drives me round the bend
When I’m being ripped off
Taken for a ride
Fleeced and shafted
Hung out and dried
If I pop down the road
To N22
A tenner will buy
Double the amount of food
Might not look as pretty
Might not be as ‘posh’
But at least it’s value for money
Not like detonating your dosh
Middey’s by name
****** by nature
The tiniest of fry ups
Leaves me cold by temperature
A sprinkling of rocket
Is an utter abomination
On a British institution
I can’t afford at this rate of inflation
So b***ocks to the balsamic
You sprinkled on those leaves
That didn’t belong there in the first place
Desist in future, please!
Dispense with the vegetation
The slab that should be a plate
And reinstate the greasy spoon
In my beautiful N8.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 2:45 PM UTC
Dusron ko kya dosh dena
Yahan toh
Meri kud ki Kismat hi
Bewafa jo nikali
(What's the point of blaming others
when here my own fate is unfaithful to me)
Mar 9, 2020
Mar 9, 2020 at 3:28 AM UTC