"overspending" poems
Don't be a fool, it's commercial not holy,
Thankful one night, the next in a hurry.
Camp outside don't miss your chance
to fight over that TV even though it's the last
Watch out! You don't want to be trampled in the hurry!
Rushing in at 4 am the scene is so blurry
But you stood in the cold just to find the gold
The treasure sure to bring on the "oooh's"
But there's so many who're jealous
They'll cuss and consume you
No fighting now, tis the season!
But you got to it first so who cares what they do
Even though the debt is rising
Even in your pockets
Can't hide the idea,
there's no safe place to lock it.
The tradition's been there for centuries
If you don't give you won't get
but who really cares who's
in the most debt
We'll pay it off in time to go under again
But each year it gets harder to top your friend
And there's no family member more satisfied with ends
The gift card full of cash now that's the best gift!
For perhaps they can pay off a little
of their overspending
while the stores roll around in their profits of billions
And the average home is filled with silent depression disappointment of expectation meets the realization
There's so many unwanted presents
Then comes the dreaded texting and ignorance
sitting in a room filled with a cold sting of silence
after spending every dime you had in thoughtfulness
All with the very best of intentions
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 1:44 PM UTC
Can this be the time once more
Of utter giving up of our control
The simple folliwing of commercial madness
Our desire for the day when food and wine
Have to be gathered about us like the defences of yore
Headlong we run from mid-summer until
We are exhausted in body, spirit or credit
The desperate worry of what to buy whom
Or when to order the especially fattened bird for your table
The ridiculous overspending on presents
When time could be the finest present you could give
Yule tide is a special period for Druids and all pagans alike,
The wonder of simplicity of reflection of our past year
The elements of sleep as mother earth regenerates herself
Resting often under the warmth of a blanket of snow
Gathering of families and loved ones
Blessings of the solstice as the wheel of the year turns
Once more into the light as the sun begins it's journey
Returning to the northern hemisphere
Our birds and native animals preparing for the winter
Storing their food, digging deep as they look for vitals
Likewise the land is resting,
The soil teems with dormant life, every insect and worm
Every root, form and bulb
Slowing right down as the degrees fall to freezing
The frosty and rime ridden mornings giving the flora
A lift of white dusting and sparkling light reflecting
The weak, beautiful winter sun
Heaves itself onto the low glancing position
Just making it to the tree tops before retiring once more to sleep
Leaving glorious swathes of orange and red
Painting the sky as it falls and rises.
Yule tide comes as all seasons, times and periods
But once a year in our short lives
The earthy sounds, the images and emotion
The smell of the newly fallen snow and woodsmoke
The foraging birds and squirrels
The warbling and tuneful song of the blackbird
And the tut tut of Mr Robin resplendent in his
Bright red waistcoat bobbing around in the crisp frost
Our lifetime of Yules is a wonder to enjoy,
I know as I look from my window where my heart is
As the distant tree bare in it's winter shroud speaks
To me as a friend and anchor within this beautiful planet.
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 5:22 AM UTC
He wanted a ***** enlarger
gave him a magnifying glass
I said “where’s the food go”
he replied “look at your ***
He likes to call me his experience
what he calls all his mistakes
I call him my grievance
my heart he constantly breaks
When he yawns he gets to open his mouth
otherwise he tends to keep stum when I’m about
he lives poor, so he can die rich
calls me an overspending *****
Were no longer love’s young dream
when I see him I want to scream
I **** his ills with pills
his money pays his funeral bills
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 10:01 AM UTC
My Lord transform my failures,
Transform my disappointments.
Turn it into a flowery perfume
That can please you alone
Let your greatness shine
Through poetry
Let love be my motto
From now on.
I have made a mistake
An overspending on risk
I shall throw them into the fire
Let it's scent be as sweet as wine
And if others are not pleased
I shall offer it to you, Lord
I shall offer it to you
I don't want to be a prisoner of the other
Not even of my own family
I want to be free like Superman
And follow the path that leads to you
I shall use the books I bought
As a map towards your glory
And I shall make new maps
To guide others to you
Nov 17, 2021
Nov 17, 2021 at 10:16 PM UTC
love, devotion
a motion that can either build you up or break you down
it can make you feel like a clown with your face painted and slab on with makeup
to only one day break up and never make up
it can make you feel worthless as they leave wordless
shhhh, quite don't make a riot
as they walk out that door leaving you all alone
then they never have time to pick up a phone
never questioning why they couldn't try
to love you with all of their heart as you as you're sitting there torn apart
thrown back into a world of pain and depression
as they are sick with their obsession, not helping the recession
with their overspending of the green that could help her children
that could help one of her daughters that is still in school
reading like a fool and trying to remain cool
who doesn't know the meaning of the word love
her only help is praying from above
who cries out for her mom every night
praying that she'll be here tonight
so that everything can go back to normal
and they will never be another quarrel
then her mom will finally have a moral
to find her way back home so she won't have to roam
like Dorthy walking endlessly on that yellow brick road
her head filled with a bunch of load
missing her family like crazy and trying not to be lazy
while everything is just getting hazy
so I pray to the lord to save me
then I can be mom's baby and act like a lady
and nothing is gonna be shady
while Momma is around
so now we can all be found and not bound
to the slave of the devil's hands, that travels lands
to destroy lives and capture wives
so they can cheat on their husbands without a care
and come back to their evil lair while giving a glare
to all who dare to take them on as little children draw with a crayon
then go to sleep on a warm bed they can lay on
dreaming that just one day in the middle of may
that Mommy will just finally come home
Mar 25, 2011
Mar 25, 2011 at 9:52 PM UTC
The end of the line, is in this rhyme!
Hello to those of you listening,
recording all your thoughts.
Quick to answer the call before it's ringing.
Been caught up in between the wires,
haven't chatted with my inner child in a while.
The conversation at times, is caught up
in between the lines.
I laugh about it like it's all but fine. Wait, someone else is ringing up my line.
Depression, so nice of you to call,
thanks for reminding me why I feel so alone.
But I'm going to have to put you on hold.
You're happy to leave a message, straight after the tone.
And I'll be glad to leave it on ignore.
I don't live on people's area codes,
grew up so different from my two older bros.
My route in life has too many crossroads.
As a kid, I was never short a moment
of being weird.
Those cringy moments still haven't been cleared.
Speaking about the kids,
Searching for love, but she tries to test you.
Expecting too much from you, but won't double text you.
Testing my texting,
wasting my reproductive times too busy sexting.
I only know love for the worst expectations, and those hidden intentions.
Not to mention,
we're too busy overspending.
For a love that never replies your message.
Tell me if that's not depressing?
Anyways Mr Operator,
the problems of my mind sound too much like a dictator.
Tell them to call now, but I'll answer them later.
It's about that time,
I cut this call by the end of the line!
Jun 25, 2021
Jun 25, 2021 at 10:28 AM UTC
I dig when you like my poems
And I’m really glad you know them
But you are being too critical
If you demand I not be political.
I’m not the most passive poet
You have ever heard or seen.
I am rather an outspoken
Liberal-minded poetry machine.
I’m not patient with ass-kissers
Or those who applaud crooks,
And flashy overspending creeps
Who got rich cooking the books.
I’m not impressed with how well
They behave at flashy photo-ops.
If they’re criminals, I really think
Someone should call the cops.
Nixon and Reagan, taught us
Being famous doesn’t get it.
If that’s all they have going on
Then, no thanks. Just forget it.
I don’t want to give them keys
To a worldwide nuclear disaster.
Kicking their ***** off the throne
Should be instantly if not faster.
So, if you came here to read
Of flowers, June, moon and spoon,
You’re bound to be disappointed
And it will happen very soon.
As I am in love with words
Not just the sound they make.
I try to move souls and hearts
And shake some people awake.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
Speed bump vendettas
Hit the gas and watch it go
In our winding opinions we're constantly making wrong turns
But to look at the mileage, you'd never know.
I'm walking on the yellow line
Lean to the left and lean to the right
And hope that you don't die tonight
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
So I guess we're living in a hard-hat zone.
Streetlights can be cruel when they're showing parts of me
Streetlights are heavy when they highlight what you can't see
We keep parking too far from the curb
As we keep overspending our words.
You watch the cars, I'll watch the street
Our thoughts in the headlights, they never meet
Maybe our ideas are all we'll ever be
You keep counting yellow lines, disregarded like me.
We'll take turns backseat driving
Maybe that's the only way we keep surviving.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC
Please pardon me; when I say, _"it's all of me, all of me."_
That's just the pride that swallows me; every time you love on
me, hug on me, each time we're cuddling, and snuggling. The
pretty scars look so ugh-gly; and that's not what I want my love
to be; honestly.
Making me wonder, _"what the F,"_ of the effort I'm taking; no
mistaking the fools of swine eating bacon. That's the charity
of clarity; giving your heart to all of the crowds, of all those
boys you met around. You've been around. Chasing circles
of where to be; as it seems. Dogs chasing tails; till it gets stuck
in your teeth. There's no peace, but the piece of sorrow; when your feelings were deceased. Diseased by the love sickness; as random kisses was the weakness to your knees.
I'm begging you please,
to stop pretending; that you're not trying to save up your worth
overspending; never-ending story of the people having the seconds of love's sequel. I'm a prequel to thought. What words are in the courts. All the illegal things that we bought; while breaking a few laws. I'm now allergic to a thought, of you giving me goosebumps in my pores.
__I paused...__
So you could stop playing my heart. Love loves to play with my
heart.
__I paused...__
Love loves to play with my heart. Tell me when does it stop?
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 2:17 PM UTC
I love making money,
I don't like overspending it.
My motto is,
"Let every penny do its job".
16/11/2023
Nov 16, 2023
Nov 16, 2023 at 9:38 AM UTC
It seems every few hours I picture the same thing
We are sitting at a table in an adorable cafè,
Holding hands across the table, knocking a croissant, and I say,
"There's nowhere I'd rather be than here."
And you say nothing, and that's all I want to hear.
There's such a beauty in being in your presence, I hope I am beautiful too.
I love you, and we enjoy every moment knowing we are overspending, and we don't regret it.
So yes, I'm in bed and it's still summer time, but I know that we will go there, and just like now, you'll be mine.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 11:10 AM UTC