Best Currencies Poems


Premium Member Broken Heart, For Sale

I have always been alone
I have always been the lonely one
In the corner, quiet and silent
Inside of dreams to come

So with determination
I build and build and build
Possessions compounding
Wealth is the only scorecard I know

Now, it’s amassed, and I have it all
So with pride and confidence
I do what anyone should
I must purchase a possession of my desire

I read in the paper of a sale very fine
A Garage sale of many old antiques divine
Within it all is treasure so very deep
A broken heart of golden hopes

I am not sure how one goes about
Such a purchase, of infinite value
I am succumbed with depression and sadness
For all my wealth

I have not the currency to buy this heart
So I burned my money that very night
I learned, there is another currency of delight
I wrote words and music and poetic verse

My Snow White she refuses to awake
Even my heart at the bone it shakes
Vaso the empty vessel of life
Learned there is no currencies at all

To acquire a broken heart

Premium Member Validation

In their dreams…

Yes, please

Whisper indoctrinated dialect
Upon my harrowing song

Yes, please

Remove that scented, plastic tulip

Place it upon my oblivious palm

As if we’re in a Sadie Hawkins dance
Bribing hearts
With petal currencies

Psst, hey

I woke up only feeling like a thousand bucks.
A foreign knock-off made of recycled, rubber bolts
And ambiguity

Please
Tell me I’m priceless with borrowed, high-interest breaths

Liquidate my potent complacency
To become that symbol of an elitist humanity

Yes!

Stroke that clouded, diamond tip
With your sensual thumb

Love stamps of approval
After 6 months of quickie penetration
And co-signatures on dilapidated apartment leases

PLEASE, YES!

Take me to our creator!
Tell Him I am free!!!
I will stand here in virtual observance!

Wait, where are you going?
Come back to me!
COME BACK TO ME!

My wheelchair’s batteries are fading!
How will I stand?!

NO!

…

Sadly, they never validated their reality…

©Drake J. Eszes

Vultures

It was not so
It was not so
Before the invasion of the vultures
In those days
When being black makes us thick
When our communion whispers across oceans
When our ties thrust distrust
When our dreams were dreams
When our groans frighten their gods
When our cowries outweigh their currencies
But now,
The invasion of the vultures
Mocked our mores
Crucified our tradition with their crusades
Barter our black gem for arms
Conscript our angels into prostitution
Littering our minds with the doctrines of servitude
It was not so
With their holy writ they stabbed  us
It was not so
Before the invasion of the Vultures.



                                                                                awoh kingsley awoh


Fingerprint of my Soul

I want to believe in something-
There must be something more.
Faith lives beyond the labels,
In fragments I explore.
Right and wrong are currencies,
My conscience pays the toll.
I walk between belief and doubt
To nourish my own soul.
My sins are mine to carry,
No mortal hears my prayer.
But Thine and I move silently
Through time beyond despair.
I trace a path through darkness
Still something moves along.
Like Voyager, I journey
Where mystery makes me strong.
Accepting the “not knowing”
It is the way it’s meant to be.
That is my answer
Contentment with Thee.

Premium Member The Manners of Management -

They made mammon somethng measurable, mighty, & magnificent,
everywhere that labor, exchange, & entertainment exist monuments
to money, large and small,

the genesis was excess manufacture 
such as grain, gold, textiles & ceramics,
animals & people,
purveyors were born like corn on the cobb,
like mist in morning,
buearruacracies of religion & government emerged from the basic business
of buy & sell, structure was supplied by law & covetuousness,
the greed of need,
people enticed to sell their Spirit in the form of toil for products,
eventually for fiat currencies, profit took the place of contribution,
slavery evolved into serfdom,
from the plantation to the factory unproductive owners needed managers,
individuals with minimal compassion & maximum ambition, essence extractors,

the whip replaced by the 'write up' and tacit threat of poverty,
the iron chain supplanted by hopelessness of ignorance in limited training,dependency,
management believed in synergy,the kind that rewarded the few 
at the expense of the many,
the river of Life tore into the irrigation of wealth for selected heredity,
bussinessmen want employees & citizens with low self esteem, shallow interests & passions,
economy as cosmos, profits as pieties, workers as sinners,

edicts of 'minimum wage' and requirements for age are simply Market stabilizers
implemented to ensure profit,
taxes a financial plan of slave paid for regulation,
the management caste, the sociological strata designed to keep laborors feeling underachieving,
crows squawking against crows so that dragons fly free -

J.A.B.

Premium Member Your World On A Map

Languages, currencies, religions and flags
Capitals, origins and sorts of tags
Seas, rivers, landmarks and sites of history
Symbols, letters, colors of memory

Pictures of every nation as family
Orders and sects of homily
Cultures and traditions of pride and simplicity
Nurtures and inspires longer than mortality

Your world is not round but flat
Sleeping with peace and honor on the mat
Shapes and sizes of countries so fascinating
Your world on a map, your life in a story not stat
  -- stirring and oscillating


I Am

I am a consequence of all things broken
A product trading at different currencies, yes I am
A result of feelings mistaken
I am

I am hatred of what began as love
A visual of a passionate moment, yes I am
A reminder of the once used language of love
I am

I am a realisation of what was lost
A connection between two beings, yes I am
Happiness of what hurts the most
I am

I am a combination of a marriage that was
A voice highlighting your pride, yes I am
Words never said and conversations that was
I am

I am the custody battle being enforced
The significance of an apology, yes I am
A recipe for feelings cursed
I am

I am...................your child

Premium Member Unmeant Meanings

 Unmeant meanings

	Words keep watch
				
      their eyes in the empty spaces
                                         	fingers feel their unformed faces

Can words mean what they were not meant for    all by   
                                                          theirnonselves
even if they come clothed in nonentity 
     cuneiforms hieroglyphics ideophonograms 
               strokes signs signals sounds shapes silences squiggles squares squirms suctions squirts scuds screams squelches screeches screams          or sickening sobs

	words sum up fix errant thoughts
speak for all
	though in tongues without jousting knights
  errancy will not lead to errantry

Only the blind conceive their shape form posture 
	the staid but rumbunctious music of stilled hieroglyphs
   the pliability of ideograms caressed down rice paper
					their squiggly strands
the self-effacing hand-and-foot maidens 
		of matronly phrases
    some leaning awry  
                                           the calligrapher’s trembling hand
all all straining upright
	the custodians of invested stock
	foot-stools of pouting poets
		         the sum-total of coveted currencies
	exchanged stock variables 

Who would be hurt    knifes himself
			with meaningless words
         who would laugh 
		breaks out into song
	the sing-song stress and accent of vowels round and strong
   learns wayward steadfastness
              with his words
	           with words
			with the word
				with the world of wonder in
  always willing and wilful words


April 23, 1997
From the privately-pub. coll. (re-worked 2016): longhand notes (a binding of poems), Paris: 1999, 115p.
© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Forex Trading

Me doing the Wall Street
Different currencies I buy and I sell;
During one evening or morning
Without any crying and moaning...
I loose/win some money;
Sarcastically laughing or breaking in smiles…
Because I was stupid or smart - You decide.

Premium Member Keep the 'Change'

Can the world enunciate its feelings
towards a volatile emptiness

If we dared to visualize
the frothing of inevitability's smile
would it be enough

Would the barriers,
constructed by animosity's lament,
listen to reason
if dollar signs didn't taste so lustfully acidic

How could we learn to build,
if all we did was preach false pretenses

If it is said that chasing your dreams
would cost you dearly,
why can't “wisdom” be soulfully freed
of leather whipped wallets
and just show us the way

Could past-tensed smiles of the poor & meek,
really embrace the poorly meek, presently?

Does the alleged understanding
of a broken, budgetary embrace,
matter when they screw elaborated currencies?

If their heart was in the right place,
why do their crossed fingers point left...behind

When will mind over matter,
matter?

If our veritable presence is welcomed with open arms,
why would it be removed before one could say goodbye?

Another "check", bounced...

...keep your "change".

©D.J.E.

Premium Member Trustworthy Telltales -

The words strut & rust can be derived from the mechanism of Trust,
Trust could not exist without doubt,suspicion and the possibility of failure,
would I desire Trust if I never had it,or couldn't have it,

many things to Trust such as creatures,currencies & concepts,
we can sustain faith in ideologies,instincts,and inspirations,
my first Trust must have been Mother,
second being invulnerability to death,

trusting the search and trusting the treasure of experience,
believing that if a man is a king for a moment then he is a king for a lifetime,
if courageous once,then gallantry can carry me again,

Trust is everything I have,it is everything that I've done
and everything that I will produce,
Trust is the morning rhythem telling me I can survive the dare of Day,
I can feel suffering yet surge,
the trustee of my Soul's account,
Trust delivers the itinerary of my intentions to the Eye of God's equity,
a warm water soothing the sting of society's satire,
bringing me to the tabernacle of plumb testimony,

trusting Life to give opportunity
and Death a passport beyond the portcullis of charity's charm,
finding gold in broken stones,
giving grief to the wicked & comfort to the confused & conquered,
to Trust that living a good Life is about developing strengths,
preventing stress from tresspassing upon your soul,
geological gusto on the rim of my religion,
I look at graveyards and say okay -

J.A.B.

Newsroom, Late

The clocks upon the wall are stopped,
they haven’t worked for years.
It could be any time in Tokyo, 
in London, Paris or New York.

It’s late, and deadlines, met or missed, 
are past. The news is done, it’s fixed in print,
though muted televisions flicker out
the incremental day-long cycle.

The running strips across the screens
record trivia and disaster.
Aleppo’s in the news tonight,
A fabled city lies in bloody ruin.

It has been wrecked by earthquake, sacked
by cruel thugs, like Tamerlane the great:
this is not new, and here it’s hardly news, 
just death in a far country.

But to Aleppo’s markets once the Silk Road came,
to reeking, fragrant, raucous sukhs and khans. 
Imagine the exquisite cloth, 
embroidered travellers’ tales

of fabulous ordeals from caravanserai
to citadel, to watchtower, wall and gate,
thin air of mountain passes under snow,
fantastic tales from the Middle Kingdom

whose emperor under heaven knew he was
the centre of the world. Aleppo’s traders knew
their precious wares went out as far as 
Rome, Cordoba, Timbuktu and Zanzibar.

Imagine narrow lanes, braised savoury meat,
clothing, fruit and spices on display, 
jostling animals and men, the public haggling 
and secret treasures: silk, jade and porcelain.

Here the silent markets never stop. 
A dumb Bloomberg terminal rolls out 
the stocks and currencies all night,
though no-one’s watching.

Aleppo’s markets are in ruin tonight.
Starved people live in blood and rubble,
homes and hospitals destroyed.
I can’t conceive how they survive.

I must drive home now, through quiet streets.
There will be beggars wrapped in blankets
at the traffic lights. Money will change hands.
Bloomberg has no metric and no code for this.

At home there will be food and warmth.
Aleppo’s dying, and people in the street, 
begging, on a night so cold, alone, so late,
I can’t conceive how they survive,
and Bloomberg has no metric and no code for this.

[Johannesburg, August 2016]

Money

Money, life material
temporal source,
Made for life's
every course, to
earn, win or
Gifted in ways
selected to maintain
the well being
Of mind and body
health, riches and
wealth.

Money in currencies
from different
Regions of the
World,
Pound Sterling,
Dollars, Dinar,
Lira, Escudo, Rupee,
Pound, Kwanza, Euro
Birr or Lira to name
a few, 
more abounds in
place unknown to me
and you.

Money rid our lives
of homelessness,
hunger, and sadness,
Slows the
unhappiness lessen
distress, 
Ends the poverty in
the desolate, mend
the broken spirit, 
And bring joy to a
child's life who is
sadden with
misfortune.

Money man's
creation, limited
and filled with
subjection, 
Was created for
pleasure, measure,
and power, but
caused,
War, theft, pain
and sorrow to God's
unlimited world,
Of riches, love,
freedom and beauty.

Money needed by
all...

Premium Member African In Influence, American In Attraction

A tree of three trunks and ten branches
which grows particularly the maple leaf
and blest with a natural freezer customized by climatic inactivity
with a unique symbol of in-habitation in Alert.

A global authority in the possession of bitumen,
the fortification of Quebec- a stand out in North American glory
consumes nature’s tithe in forest cover
and a popular wealthy merchandise of underground currencies.

It shares the world’s longest meeting point between two lips
and so wet with lakes existing in their millions.
Then second to none in the strength of tidal currents in the world.
while sex sells but prohibited to be bargained or bought.

Next to the largest global nation
is this land housing hospitable citizens
with its warmheartedness centrally preserved in Ottawa.
Identifying with the two most politically and economically related languages
which are highly significant nation-wide
like its consumption of macaroni and cheese.
All the same the uniqueness of its influence is set apart;
silent is its global contribution but powerful is its international attraction.

Premium Member What's Really Going On

WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON

     SOMETIMES I JUST HAVE TO ASK...WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON.
          AM I REALLY... HERE ON EARTH... OR DID I GO BEYOND.

                     VOLCANO'S HEATING THE OCEANS TEMPS.
                        LAWYERS TWISTING LAWS TILL BENT.
                        HOMELESS SLEEPING IN LITTLE TENTS.
                    WORKING PEOPLE CAN'T PAY THEIR RENTS.
   
      SOMETIMES I JUST HAVE TO ASK...WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON.
            AM I REALLY HERE ON EARTH OR DID I GO BEYOND.

                    BANKSTERS CONTROL THE CURRENCIES.
                   PRESCRIPTIONS WRITTEN WITH URGENCY.
                        ZOMBIES PASSING IN FRONT OF ME.
                      SO MANY THINGS ONE CAN'T BELIEVE.

      SOMETIMES I JUST HAVE TO ASK...WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON
            AM I REALLY HERE ON EARTH OR DID I GO BEYOND.

            DRUG MANUFACTURERS, POISONING MANY PEOPLE.
           MAIN STREET MEDIA TURNING THEM IN TO SHEEPLE.
       INTERNET VIEWED BY MANY AS A DIRTY LITTLE PEEP SHOW.
          I FIND MYSELF ON MY KNEES UNDER A CHURCH STEEPLE.

      SOMETIMES I JUST HAVE TO ASK...WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON.
             AM I REALLY HERE ON EARTH OR DID I GO BEYOND.

                          ALL RELIGIONS CAN'T BE WRONG.
                      IF I DON'T BELIEVE SO I DON'T BELONG.
                          HATRED SPREADING FROM A SONG.
           GOLD BOUGHT AND SMUGGLED THROUGH HONK KONG.

      SOMETIMES I JUST HAVE TO ASK...WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON
             AM I REALLY HERE ON EARTH OR DID I GO BEYOND.

                   THIS CAN'T BE HEAVEN, IT MIGHT BE HELL
                             ECONOMY ISN'T DOING WELL
                  LOOSING FREEDOMS FROM WHAT I CAN TELL.
                      NOTHING TAUGHT ABOUT LIBERTY BELL.

      SOMETIMES I JUST HAVE TO ASK...WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON.
              AM I REALLY HERE ON EARTH OR DID I GO BEYOND.

          OH MY GOD...LORD HAVE MERCY...HELP ME UNDERSTAND.
                I REALLY BELIEVE THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG.
                                WITH OUR MODERN MAN.
              I KINDA FEEL ...I'M CONFUSED..I'M REALLY IN A JAM.
       CAN YOU PLEASE...SHED SOME LIGHT...SO I CAN UNDERSTAND.

        SOMETIMES I JUST HAVE TO ASK...WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON.
               AM I REALLY HERE ON EARTH OR DID I GO BEYOND.

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