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Mark Toney Nov 28
Timothy Tolliver Tines
Taught tax topics twenty times
Touting tax tips he tried
Till terribly tongue-tied
Twisted tongue tending to twine
11/28/2019 - Poetry form: Limerick - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Trump's Tax Return

Trump
Donned keys
That locked his guilt
From being opened by the  supreme court
A judge was quoted, Trump makes his own rules
He hides taxes
Pets his
***

Logan Robertson

5/10/2019
A double tetractys is a poem of 8 lines with a syllable count of 1, 2, 4, 10, 10, 4, 2, 1. When it comes to Trump's lineage the bottom line is important.
Michael Marchese Apr 2018
Just a wicked peacenik’n quick draw from the Paw
Game of Thrones’n the Shah, crussian bones of the law
When the baby-skull splitters want nuclear winter
Ideal New Cold steel and send Chernobyl shivers
Down Roman Republicans’ severed headlines
Till there’s no more dead kids on front line Columbines
I’m in exile sharpenin’ [sic]kles in style
Pyongyang’n Kuomintang climate denials
Erasing their nation-hate racial profiles
Outpacing their skinhead disgraces by miles
Shell casin’ this place like the Nuremberg trials
For Fords sellin’ swastikas stockpile bibles
Defiled by Normandy tide genocidals
Fresh meat off the boat spreadin’ Plague mercantiles
I smile and **** ‘em with kindness
Then grind
Battle tax in my acid bath
Salt Marchin’ prime
Because WAR IS THE CRIME
I’m the Clown Prince of Rhyme,
Level 9 state of mind
Like the state of Rakhine
The Black Hand before time
Runnin’ Africa’s Luciest Sky Diamond mine
I’m the ronin alone in
The monkey god shrine
And my guile’s reprisal’s Versailles treaty signed
Strippin’ pride from the Rhine
Now your Motherland’s mine
Swine
Carlo C Gomez Nov 13
Remember,
the best things in life are free

...plus tax
...license
...and recycling fee
Fred Wakefield Oct 2012
Walked out on it all, mid-life crisis taken hold,
Done nothing but work, pay tax, time to be bold.
Dyed hair, had an affair, went clubbing once more,
Tried *** in a Maserati but got it caught in the door.
Didn’t think it through.

Did all but one thing on my bucket list,
Travelled, explored and got endlessly ******.
No happier, alone, one half of a whole,
Ruined it all by having no self-control.
Didn’t think it through.

Revenge on her mind she accepted me back,
Wife threatened me with “back, sack and crack”,
Totally livid, intent on harmful litigation,
In the end made me pay for her breast augmentation.
She didn’t think it through.
Jordan Rowan Mar 2016
I greet myself every morning
Try to convince myself that bad complexion's kinda charming
Maybe youth is never-ending
Then I see my tax returns are pending
I wish I could promise everlasting
But I've always been told that lying is a bad thing
I'd like to do this
Maybe forever
But only if me and my lover stay together

I was conceived in a kitchen
And it became the place my childhood was murdered in
I fell asleep at the movies
Somehow the sounds of violence really soothe me
I smoked a dozen
Hacked my way to a suicidal buzz again
I'd like to do this
Maybe forever
But only if me and my family stay together

I gave a prophet my number
She sent it to the clouds and now I'm going under
Am I the only me?
Or am I a product of genetic destiny?
It doesn't matter
Happiness is measured in love and laughter
I'd like to do this
Maybe forever
But only if me and my friends stay together
Bus-riding, crumb-counting hand wringers
Bibble-babbler, channel-flipper slogan slingers
Keep the volume loud enough to drown out the machines
That fill their cupped hands daily with excrement and dreams
These are the ****** of the canon

Button-pushing, lever-pulling product users
Wife-buying, tax-paying alcohol abusers
Emasculated monkeys done up in black and white
Clock in in the morning and flock home late at night
These are the ****** of the canon

Train-conducting, ring-leading hand shakers
String-fingered, queue-cutting, man makers
Drive home, cursing, lonely, breaking bones beneath their wheels
Without the time to diagnose that emptiness they feel
These are the ****** of the canon
Written over the course of a week or so on walks to and back from work.
Crying ******* the side of the road,
a broken girl and nothing more.
A tainted soul, unguided *****.
A broken girl and nothing more.

Homeless man begging for some change,
a homeless making minimum wage.
****** his life and threw it all away,
for a ***** white in some nice lingerie.


Tattooed man behind cold steel bars,
thought he'd get away with stealing cars.
Looks like he didn't get too far,
another ****** ******* up our tax dollar!

Drugged up man on the beaches of L.A.,
took his life and threw it all away,
for used needles and a little *******,
thought addiction was a game he could win, what a shame.

**** it all and throw it away,
looking for life in all the wrong places.
I will admit though, just this one time,
their life sure sounds more interesting than mine.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Cj Jan 12
English
Reading
Math(s)
Language arts
Language experience
Social studies
World history
Science
& more
What do all of theese have in common?
They cause pain and struggle
School dosent teach how to deal with
Death
Depression
Anger
Rejection
Pain
Major emotions, things that people have
And **** themselves over
But school dosent care
School counselors don’t help
School nurses aren’t nurses
School dosent teach tax
Instead we pay it  
It dosent teach what to do when your homeless
It dosent teach you how to get a job
It dosent teach you how to parent
They say they prepare us for the future
But does it really?
Tommy Randell Feb 2017
Put Guinness on a mermaid’s tail
And it will turn to milk
Put that milk in a glass of tea
And drench away your ills

It will make all old men frisky
It will make all young men strong
And the mermaid’s tail will vanish
To give all men what they want

The seal will graze the meadow
The salmon swim the lanes
All Tax and Debts will vanish
We'll ride the gravy train

The taps will run with pennies
The pumps will pour with gold
There’ll be no lack of plenty
And the Craic will not go cold

But, should we drink this liquor
That has such a magic touch?
Could a glass so filled with wonder
Be filled with just too much?

Is Mermaid's Milk a fishy tale
Too marvellous to be true?
Have the Old Wives and the Fairies
Gone a step too far, or two?

Young men in their innocence
Old men in their prime
Should they fish the strands and beaches
Through the hours of Opening Time?

Well for the good of all the Craic
Pass the teapot down the Bar
If there's magic in the Mermaid's brew
I'll drink it by the jar

But let me never not drink porter
It's the Blood in Ireland's veins
For with Mermaid's Milk or The Guinness
My thirst is still the same.
A poem I wrote to be said at Irish Trad Music Sessions. It is my joy to play the Bodhran (drum) and recite a few tales and this one often gets me a cup of tea or two.
Harry lights another cigarette
Amy's dog died at the vet
Peter made Amy upset
Paul wrote up another check
Yolanda made another bet

Amy slams Peter to the ground
Peter utters a horrifying sound
Riley drives out-of-town
Ingrid raids the lost-and-found
Larry wears Ingrid's stolen crown

Fabio plays a riff on the sax
Ophelia fails to pay her income tax
Oliver blurs the cold, hard facts
Larry has trouble trying to relax
Sergio takes a few steps back



Melody
4/1/19
If you read the initial letters of each line, you'll understand the point that I'm trying to make.
Harmony Oct 2016
Woman took a vow of celibacy
Poverty and Obedience oh my
Haven't arrived at fifty
At such state of no chat

Would love to meet
A nun turned inward-
To be connected-
In the power of silence.

Perhaps in the future
A wish from my bucket-
Bucket of lists-
To fulfill for the next
Fifty peaceful years

Contemplative in my days
Wishing there could be no tax-
For being thus-
Alone and disconnected
But staying connected
Without stirring up ripples
cloistered nuns of Carmelite order
poesuer Aug 4
my mouth tastes Pepsi max ginger
you know, the one they made to get around the sugar tax

because this boy I like,
he only drinks fizzy,
and he's been shaking my heart up a bit

he's Coca Cola and Mentos,
he's impulsively leaping down staircases,
he's somewhere up a tree

he's larger than life but fits in my bed

he picks me up and it's all such a laugh
and my head is only spinning because

being burrowed into his chest is the closest to heaven I think I've ever been

and if you could feel the etherea radiate from him like I can I think you'd understand
*I know etherea isn't a word but he's so ineffable that I had to make one up. It's (obviously) derived from ethereal.
Zeeb Jan 9
Rat-a-tat Bumpstock, Gadsden on his truck, so easily
led by his nose
Has a dip and a beer with an old friend dear
Let's listen and see what we hear

"It's your turn to shoot"
"Ahhh got **** on my boot"
"Did you get you a deer this season?"

Shot a doe just last week, said the sporting man
She was eating corn right in front of my stand

Did you see on the channel this morning
That story about the wedding cake?
Don’t get me started, said Rat-a-Tat
Okay, go ahead, what was Sean’s take?

He said in a town there’s this baker-man
Who believes in Jesus, just like you and me
Then “ding” went the bell of his shop door
You won’t believe what then he did see
Tat it was two men holding hands, dear God, and they said that they wanted to wed
The baker, now personally offended, tossed them out on their ******* heads

Wow such courageous action, said Tat, and from a man who bakes at that!
To the baker and all imbeciles of the world, went a tip of Tat's oily red hat

As not to be outdone by Tat
Came a second salute to the cretins
A loud ****, a belch, and a spit of brown pinch
So common to people like that

That reminds me of your son, ole' Tat - did he get his first deer this year?
He did, he did, and we did what we do
Just like your dad and your grandpa before you

He dragged that deer back through the mud, then we smeared his face with its blood

I told my young son he could keep the gun, but for that there would be a few rules
A stop the drugs, and for sure, he gets his *** back in school

Go easy on Bo, a good boy, don't you know
Say, Tat, you ain't got much to show
"*******" said Tat, firmly chambering a round
Then asked, "You're not afraid of that sound?"

What else has been going on, ole' Tat?  On that, please do, tell me
A doctor’s visit I think you said, fill me in while I **** on this tree
It went well, I’d say, let’s put it this way
I  got my disability  


Meanwhile, back in the city


Huff and Puff elliptical man, tunes-in, to his friend on the screen
“What’s this about a deep-state?”, he asked
Pray tell me just what does it mean

I’ll tell you HP, said Huff no. 2
There's a group within our gov
They draw a regular check and do have a plan
To take away our man

"****-right ****-right", said Huffy
I thought that all along
The foreign service, I think I heard Sean say
Or was it the DOJ?


And did you see on the channel this morning
That story about the wedding cake?
Don’t get me started, said Huff no. 2
Okay, go ahead, what was Sean’s take?

He said in this town lives a baker
Who stands against all that we hate
That the libs and the dems have agenda
It is we the'll subjugate

"You know it, you know it", said Huff no. 2
The'll tax us, they have no humility
The'll take all our hard-earned money
And pay it out on fake disability
Monika Layke Jan 13
He was a happy man
A gent occupied with life
Beholden to no one

Starve his mind
Make him splinter

Tax his heart
Make him shiver

Deprive his hunger
Make him shatter

Then you will hear from him
With a pure white appetite
A grateful merry man
Ken Pepiton May 2018
Sunday, May 06, 2018
4:51 PM

Failing for lack of power is a fear crop.
A fear crop.
An odd thought.

Not the seed nor spore, but the fruit.

And fruits have seeds in themselves,
All men, I say again,
wombed and un, should know that by now.

Freedom of information act fact, informed
men know when to fight and when to sow and when
to reap the crops we've sown
in our mortal moment
gone with the wind.

Not mine.
The wind is in my inheritance,
True proverb.
I troubled my own house, fouled my nest
with all the rest o' youse ab-users of life
ignoring forever like that could never happen here.

It did.
The voices in your head are never all evil
if they use words.
In the total accounting of idle words
some significant percentage
may
carry meaning forsaken.
Such may be redeemed
much as one would redeem the time.

One of us.  One of our mortal kind.

Dear reader, we say again, we ain't Legion nor his kin.

We are words once spoken in jest among fools who repeated us
meaninglessly, oh my God, you know. Per se. No ****. **** happens.
All the ****** time,
and **** and God, those two get overtime of idle utterance instances.
Though a statistically measurable deme
does redeem a significant some of those two
in true beliver
dying breath
honesty. God, they say, and die.

By my leave, I say,
I am the definition of a free entity accepted in these books.
We are voices. Messengers.
Some of us were wicked, twisted as wicker
or wire bundles. Some of us were true pass words.
Some were true rest words,
rest rooms were so named
for that wonderunful feeling we all get
when **** happens

at just the right moment

in the book. Great ideas gravitate to clean rest rooms.

this is a new book right, this reader is
whadayacallit

Vetted.
What does that mean. You know right idle heard words are
meaning less
power less.
Vet me. Am I one of those ideas, good to the core, caught up in fairy
tales fed the T.V. generation, the Boom beyond the bomb.
After school and duck and cover drills,
we watched cartoons aimed twenty short years earlier
at the wanters and wishers and workers and worriers
of the thirties, we Boomers, as the media hipsters have always known us,
the off-spring, often unwanted and ill-begotten, of the Greatest Generation,
the one that won the contracts to build all the bombs in the world,
tax-free.

Those cartoons from the thirties with Entertainment Tonight plots and cameos of
Hollywood stars who were Grandma's age,
that Cowboy Bob on the local VHF
(unaffiliated or independent, hard to tell a diff)
showed to us, the first middle class latch key kids in centuries,
were meaningless, prewar propaganda
unless we match adult laughing recoging the exagerations,
The Betty Davis eyes and Frankly M'Dear bigears
"Grandpa, who is that guy with big ears and a skinny mustache?"
Clark Gable, wow.
Who knew the "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a ****" guy had jug-handle ears?
It was diversity in the desert. My big ears no longer made me bully bait.
I have superior hearing and star power.
From my kindergarten years I have known.
I am included, my flaws are not flaws at all.
That don't give a **** guy
and I have big ears to hear better with, so
we know more. Good fathers teach their big eared sons such facts of Nature.

Take care. Don't get puffed up. Knowing too much
will fill a head with hydrogen and the brain in it rots,
intrixically.

Are we powerless? If you say so? No.
I am in control, graciously demands
no load un-bearable with Gen-you-wine Joy Juice,
Kick-a-poo Joy Juice.

(Note: not fire water white lightning. This is
Gen-you-wine Joy Juice,
Kick-a-poo Joy Juice. Al Capp's
Personal Stash of Greatest Gen Synthetic Absynthe.
Used to **** hippie wanna-bees in farm country,
Like DDT for apple worms and skeeters,
Atom bombs for all colors of thinkin' right (but white),
Gen-you-wine Joy Juice,
Kick-a-poo Joy Juice revived many a faintin' pilgrim
follerin' John Wayne down the dusty trail,

Play me one o' them somebody done somebody right
songs,
there must be a million lying idle in blue puddles o' all kinds
of imaginary
ref-use.

Referee.
Job's Daysman betwixt us, we win. His call, not mine. I thought I lost for sure.

I was powerless, let me testify.

No. We think different here. If you are not stupid,
you are not powerless. If you are stupid, then you are powerless,
but but but
If you think you are powerless, you are not stupid. God knows, right?
Stupid people seldom see themselves powerless past the standing
under peace that's beyond understanding meat-mind-wise.

Dunning-Krueger. Again.
Feedback please, this is one of many in the theme of redeeming idle words, for fun and profit.
Ben Jones Apr 2017
When the funding is cut
So the hospitals shut
That’s a Tory
When the poverty bites
And you lose human rights
That’s a Tory
Such excess
Better reassess
Better repossess
Better get yourself private healthcare
Overtaxed if you work
Unemployed? Then you're scrounging on welfare

When there’s bigoted views
Blatant lies on the news
That’s a Tory
When the biggest and best
Are too rich to arrest
That’s a Tory
But they’re lax
Covering the cracks
Never paying tax
Claiming everything on expenses
They can steal with a smile
While they peddle their flimsy defences

When they're guilty of fraud
And they're banking abroad
That's a Tory
If they're selling your school
When 'austere' means 'cruel'
That's a Tory
Too much spin
Slogan and a grin
Wearing pretty thin
Bussing people in to applaud them
Any law can be bought
If you're well off enough to afford them

That's all folks and remember, you can't spell Theresa May without heresy

**
Sean Fitzpatrick Nov 2018
The heart is a fickle thing.
Though warmth is in its nature,
what one counts as kind
the mind demands as tax.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Our salvation taking
another high-life (Lip)
The middle-income lip
Our lips leaked
Being possessed the kiss
on empty

Humpty Dumpty sat
on her Lego lips
Singers the Talking Heads
Where are the feds to late
Those stolen lips
State of a wedding trips
Rainbow chalk the state was
on lip nightmare call
Being stalked (Lumber Jack)

The devil filler up poverty
The world being pulled
Push her lip up
                    > >

Arrowsmith bow and arrow
                    >>
  Losing elasticity lips go
UPSTATE gravity

"What an under(state)meant"
"The press (God Bless)
    the golden child
     lips filling in
       the gaps
What!! no comment"

 So sad we need the happy
Irish lad too many
    Sugar Dads
lip recession deadlines to meet
The curveball
Another sip we joined the
Navy but eyeshadow deep-over
the edge gray
The Seal had an unusual tail
Her lips fast food drive smashed
Her Meal

The peace lips blew far away
"Medieval Swords heart lips
            will pay"
Times come and go its excruciating
Lips went too far always mating
Imitating people takes a whole village
Of pain

But the spiritual blessing rain
In Woodstock concerts
What perks to gain
The acid trip music we can
sip each other's lips

    Now if this wasn't passion
What a state got smeared
Like a crime scene
of fashion
Her lips could rise
Like the Millenium

         Max
Playing the jazz sax
Still the income tax

But the state in a crisis
of sales tax
Star a stage minimum wage
All the states we travel her lips
The water stays refreshing where
On her body, he really sees it on
her lips nowhere else

How many states can you
count on your finger
Long lip Ranger

The Victoria Secrets
The Tra la the bra's on the
Five-star Hilton Hotel
hanger

Holding onto her guns
Going right or to the left
Powerful lips he went
off the cliff

Getting Burned and
the State tax
You earned
The Swearing
Her lip talk so caringly
Can we move her lips to
another state more cautiously
How her hips look like
they will inflate

I am not a painting by
your candlelight fate
I felt like a tax right off
Taxi yellow race her lips
on the meter money bluff
I ended up in the state of
*
Michigan
Tricks are ****
Like a lip magician

Kentucky home was barrels
of Bourbon
I never said I wanted a drink
my name is Robin

Going to Deleware
what hardware did anyone care
So humble like the bumblebee
She was way too soft as her software

Have gun we travel but have lips we rumble

We need courage this world of states
can be savage
Gold bonds of "Dynasty European"
top dollar vultures mean
funds that's a grand entrance

Now I see how these states
start to unravel
California here I come right
back where
my lips started from

Her upper society lip could use
Champagne and caviar
The star was getting fat a nice trim
Grumpy beard make it a
short tax cut with him
Text and tweets no lip sweets
Rocky Colorado mountain men

French lips played art
Like Van Gogh perfect 10
Scenic route crazed
So many states should
be sued overly sexed suites

In Alaska, she was on a freeze

All the money in the world she got New York Token

All I asked the waitress
for State fair pie
My lips could have
used *Sweet Peach * so
pucker up
Don't be a sucker
Alabama state trooper
in Kansas City

What a spell click of heels

Georgia is always on my mind
Is New York only a state of
Frank Sinatra singing mind
What a big foot in her mouth
Nancy Sinatra dark lips Goth
State boots softly made
for loving that's just
what lips do one of these
Days my lips are going to
gloss all over you
Who's the Boss
So fasten your lip belts
The spiritual state always does the cross

Bumpy ride (Bette Davis) Eyes
Taking a trip to the end of the
boot of Sicily vineyards
Whats mine Jailbirds
She cut her lip when she was
in (Connecticut Movie cut)
On the Mystic Seaport lips were
getting hot ****** fit

Like a state disease fire pit
State of a lip disaster
But the state couldn't
resist her
Ending up in Arizona
Something is swizzling
it's not Kevin Bacon

Make no mistake when you plan
a state trip you better have your
weapon ready
Mafia bullets Bonnie and Clyde
they rob *Banks money Lips
Stae of mind we are traveling again but our lips will be the walking the yellow pages old news Staes can rock up she has the Wizardly Oz shoes
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