"economizing" poems
Making The Right Choices With Your Money While You Are Alive
We think we'll live forever. Who among us will readily admit that they will ultimately die, without maintaining that secret hope that somehow, not me! How many people get swept away in there lust for money? Saving, calculating, weighing, balancing, adding, economizing, with frugality and ultimately for what. So they can amass this tremendous wealth that they won't be taking with them in the end anyway.
Sound advice, use you money wisely while you are still alive and with your full faculties intact. You can do much good with the money you have saved, while you are alive, that will bring you happiness even when you are long gone! Faith that the good you do will live on (in your merit). It's only a matter of faith. Perhaps a faith worthy to live by, as well as die for.
When we pass that final gate, there might not be any opportunities for a last chance. What we have accomplished in this world will be ours forever more. This my friend will ultimately, and truly, be our "final score."
**wealth not happiness
here today, gone tomorrow
with death, nothing left**
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
Thick and curdled
dreams slip past me inebriated
tell me lies that bind my back
and fill my skies with sonorous bruised
clouds
like cracked eggshells
splintered across an age set before me
the horologe weighs me down
only numbers seem to count
Most seem unable to calculate
one life set apart from the ticking
oh let me be styled by my own reckoning
set aside from the domain of economizing
free from lingering gazes in a fishbowl
I want my own homeostasis
my own diluted
grounds
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 3:00 AM UTC
Eager men gather, a coalition snug in fortuity.
“Do” is their sentiment.
Vacant economizing is their doing.
Incorporating crisis trepidation intended to conceal true dealings.
A lofty story, nebulous and misty, cordially faces jeopardy.
Equality is never the aim for the uneven.
Humor them though, to their caprice show them what it means to be upright.
The uniform have no battle to fight, like the adage of the sage.
Both ponder in delicate hesitation, is this the moment?
Do I advance?
Do I relapse?
Have I any recourse at all?
Doubtful in whimsical inquiry
wishing to elevate such a state quickly,
be pleased with assumed explanations;
without debate, such a reckless undoing, will enfeeble us all.
Jul 30, 2011
Jul 30, 2011 at 7:11 PM UTC
He worked, all bent
And sweat of brow.
It's how his life went
He remembers it now.
He was told consistently
Since his early childhood
“Hard work earns rewards.”
He believed as a child would.
He believed in the dream
And worked hard most days
Saving whatever he could
Economizing in many ways.
There were no vacations
No brand new automobile.
He was sure in time he'd see
His debts brought to heel.
He bought a modest shack
For his wife and their children.
Nothing fancy, rather tight,
In no way was it modern.
But it was a roof, and safety
A harbor at the end of day.
That sadly came to an end.
The economy took it all away.
He still wants to believe
The dream he believed in
But now he and his family
Have no house to live in.
He feels someone lied to him
And they are doing so still.
Now he is angry at those
Who wrote such awful bills.
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC