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THE CASHMERE WOOL I USED TO KNIT A SCARF
I knitted a winter scarf, a large intricate Cashmere
fancy pants, Gentleman Jim kind of neck clothes people
wear around their previously naked skin between their
heads and their shoulders which really counts if you live
in a below zero weather city with a freezing cold atmosphere
that will make your teeth clatter and clink making sounds that
would rattle even those with the steadiest of nerves.
The type with those strong jaws that protrude beyond their faces
and drive FatBoy Harley motorcycles and could crush you with just
a look from where their eyes sit on their visage which is a strange
word to use here since I think "visage" is one of those sophisticated
words of French origin which is not a raw country type slang kind of
word which would be much more appropriate for bike man a name
I coined myself for Mark who turns out to be an unexpectedly kind guy
the type it turns out suits the word visage in fact one with a great
smile that occasionally pops up on Marks face I actually even
gave him the scarf as a gift (pause) (2)(3)(4), as well as my wallet
my car keys, my credit cards, my pin numbers, my watch...
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016
~TAKE MY MONEY ~
Crimson Joy, L'Oreal Lips, DOLCE & GABBANA eyewear
Mascara from beyond LONDON Bridges
Like the pretty face found in front of Vanity Fair
What can I say? Perfect -- goes with my daily addiction
A beautiful morning cup, STARBUCKS got my money
It's not more or less the cost or taste.
It's all about my dependency, with popular brand names
Shopping from place to place --- with a smile on my face
VICTORIA SECRET and the way she wears her bra.
$72 dollars it's time to double up them d's
Christmas Red and December Blue
Walmart can't pick up my bust the way she claims with trust.
Hot Topic's on my dark fashion list, Star Wars decor to explore
Obsessed with any accessory from the Walking Dead?
Bennie, blankets, epic shirts with gore, spending $200.00 more
Vulture is a man, with no hair, sat me down on his chair
"Try, this mam' a flat iron that works like MAGIC."
"Did you say magic?"
Didn't ask how much, once he commenced to caress my hair
Straight and silky like when I first bought the Evolution Wand
I tried to resist, however, I swear I heard the Iron call my name
This time, I promise to use it more than once
Between you and I - I don't even care to do my hair
Next thing you know, I own the Lioness curler iron too
With Expensive shampoo and conditioner.
What can I say, Buy 2 get the third one free
Finally, I felt - I got the best bargain possible
I won't even tell you how much I paid
You'd probably think, $189.00 is steep
How could I say no?
He threw in a heating glove, that's what I call Consumer Love.
Heading home, I spot Best Buy, needing a case for my iPhone 6 plus
Strolling near aisle 3, I hear Dr Dre, started some new beats
Falling in love with the level of quality, $299.00 how can that be?
I put a pink pair in my basket, they have to be special and unique
After all, $299. Means they are popular :)
Bargains here bargains everywhere, check out time, I paid 550 dollars
I'm so proud of myself today, I saved and gained 101 points
Happy and dandy I feel complete,
I will end, my freestyling write
With uplifting words --- Aren't you lucky I'm not your WIFE???
WELCOME TO MY WORLD
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
How much do I love thee
Let me tabulate all the ways
I bought you a new Mercedes
With gold plated tire rims
I bought you a humongous diamond ring
The size fit for all Royals and King
I bought you a store of the finest lingerie
Secrets still held at the door by decree
I bought you a garden of roses so red
My love was surely in bloom, or so they all said
I bought you a ticket to heavens pearly gates
So that in paradise you’d have not to even wait
I bought you your very own private Lear jet
To see the world through champagne eyes
My love was a vault and you emptied it dry
My heart has now learned to never cry
How much do you love me?
Your lawyer seems to know
You claimed mental duress
Suffering under such stress
The Mercedes was the wrong color so I am told
I should have known, pink, not gold
The diamond ring was too heavy to wear
Your back injuries caused you painful despair
The lingerie didn’t cover you just right
So medical ailments kept you up many a nights
The roses in bloom where not the right flower
Your allergies they caused, thus making you sour
The ticket to heaven you plain out refused
Said it was one way, and that just wouldn’t do!
You had no issues riding my Lear jet
You rode the pilot as well, a mile high kinda bet
My love you tossed into the bin out in back
The divorce lawyer smiles at me, saying she sure is great in the sack
The moral of the Story is this!
If you are sitting at the table, and
You see a few beetles scurrying about
Maybe even whistling a tune or two
Listen carefully to what they say
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
Next item up for bid, a rare coin of mine
Is one 1894 s silver Liberty dime
Only 24 of these coins were minted that year
That is, in San Francisco, let me be clear
In case anyone here has a thought to purloin
We have guards and cameras on this valuable coin
It's merely speculation why so few were minted
The fact is, that's all, they permitted
The superintendent gave most to banker friends
But three were given to his daughter to spend
She spent one on ice cream, the other two she saved
After that,there whereabouts weren't written on page
The chances of you seeing another one like this
Couldn't be calculated on one hundred abacuses
This perfect coin is the best ever seen
And the last one that sold went for two million green
If you've deep pockets, want to impress your friends
My rare silver dime must surely make you grin
For two million I'd say, "Going once" at that price
But now 2.5 million I'd say, "Going twice"
Anything over that I would gladly let it go
Pay three million right now and I'll holler, "SOLD"
By Daniel Turner
Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016
I could tell right away he was up ta sum thin.
I could see it in doze beady eyes!
His wordz were smooth in a snake like sorta way,
my pappy says heze city smooth.
He don't look like nobody round here,
he wears dat fancy tree pieze suit
wit dat gold watch in da pocket.
He pulz it out and swings it on its gold chain,
I tink he hipnotize folk...
Dat first day he come,
he come in dat big caddy.
Oh she a beauty,
cherry red a glistenin in da sun.
All dat dare Chrome reflectin back our dirt.
Boy dat fella knew how ta make an entrance,
he look like sum movie star outa da magazine.
Folks round here were impressed,
if I tell da truth I don't blame dem.
Deeze ain't sophisticated folk,
dey are shake yo hand keep yo promise folk.
Boy dis fellow like ta shake doze hands,
yad tink he was da President!
When he smiled da ladies all near passed out,
but I tink it were da fellas dat mostly swooned.
all intoxicated by iz big wordz,
mind ya all da rounz he bought added to da mood.
He sayed da railway is a comin,
just tirty milze down da road.
Wit it, a factory an all kindz a jobz!
Now jobz in a place like dis,
dat is music ta da earz,
prosperity in da land a dirt.
Now folks here is poor,
mosta demz just got dare farms.
Da farmz ain't done good fer near on five years,
wit da drought come da thirst
Dis fancy fella pour da water in fronta da eyes,
oh dat water sure look good!
He got land on which ta build,
but da people is poor.
"No problem" he says
"I'll give you mortgages on your farms."
"I can start building your new homes right away."
Next time he bring da banker,
da people line up ta sign da paper.
2 hundrid in all.
Now dat a lot,
cause dare only 201 farmz.
Me and pappy we da only ones dat hold out.
Not da we rich,
we tirsty too.
We just don't like owing folks,
so we watch an see.
Doze houses go up fast fancy an new
Da women folk can hardly wait ta be movin.
No more dusty roads,
all nice asphalt streets
But sum dreamz ain't meant ta be!
Therze a big hole were the factory spose ta be
and we ain't seen any tracks been laid.
Den Da bank start ta want dem mortgage payments.
One by one da bank start ta take da farmz.
All da good people load wat little dae got
in da back of dere trucks and move away...
All dats left is me an pappy.
The fancy man he come ta see me,
offerin me a whole lotta money for dis here land.
I had sumtin special planned for him out in da barn.
I hung him like da watch hangin from his gold chain!
I kept da watch as a souvenir,
ya never know when ya might want ta hypnotize sum one
Pappy and me,
we buried city smooth in his cherry caddy.
Strange ting nobody come lookin for him.
Mindya da bankers came an offerd a whole lotta money.
It seems we were all sittin on black gold.
Now pappy and me we made a deal,
we wanted all dem dare houses tirty miles yonder.
Also dat factory built an dat dare railway right troo da centre a town.
Dem nice bankers agreed an da deal was done.
I dint shake dare hands,
I thought it best ta rely on paper!
"In the news today two hundred families move to new homes just thirty miles outside of Rainsville. A multimillionaire formerly from Rainsville has offered the families free homes and a job at his shirt factory. The factory is expected to start operations in three weeks time."
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016
Well, I see that Congress is proposin' another trillion dollar spree!
Those inept buffoons must think money grows upon a tree!
The treasury is crankin' out bales of twenty-dollar bills,
Doin' their part to cure (and inflate) the nation's many ills!
Funds were 'loaned' to help carmakers, now they're hollerin' fer more!
A ton of dough was 'loaned' to banks, but ain't nobody keepin' score!
Millions was designated to help home foreclosures to abate.
Where has my money gone? I've seen minimal results to date!
Funds are proposed fer more sand fer the beaches of New Joisey,
And city officials want a water park out west in frigid Boise!
Frenzied lobbyists are scurryin' about fer a portion of the pork,
To build an emergency landin' strip on the Hudson in New York!
Money is probably well-spent fer roads, bridges and agin' sewers,
But spare me the cost of subsidizin' sports arenas and sozzled brewers.
Lack of foresight by the banks and politicians got us in this mess,
Now they cover their boondoggles with my money, nonetheless!
Hordes of politicians gleefully gather at the bottomless trough,
Elbowin' others fer largesse they claim will make us better off.
Is there no end to compensatory spendin' and open-ended lendin'?
Hey! That's my money you fellers are so very inept at spendin'!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011
Yes I know people are talking
But as for me
I'm just going to keep on walking
Girl gotta do what she needs to do
To survive these streets
Heck and nightmares
Exactly what this lady is living through
She a pregnant mommy left on her own
Now what is she gonna do?
Working two jobs
But a few others on the side
A Latina girl with high expectations for her money and herself
When in her small apartment
There's no room for a shelf
To place her achievements
Yeah you better believe it
A wealthy woman with a nice house
And a fresh ride
But she husslin' to make that extra money on the side
Over 100 grand is how much debt she is in
On top of it all
Her husband just died
He commited suicide
Now what is she gonna do?
Now what would you do?
If the federals were coming after you..
Copyright © tamra wilson | Year Posted 2006
They crawl out of the woodwork
Shedding lots of crocodile tears
Grieving for an ancient relative
They’ve not visited for many years
‘Auntie Annie’ is barely warm
But now you see the relations swarm
Waiting for the will to be read
They rub their hands with glee
Hoping they will be left
Lots of lovely money
‘Grieving relatives’ is rubbish!! Some are taking the mick ….
These mercenary vultures simply make me sick!
28th January 2017
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017
don't know if human's will ever see
every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
there has to be a place for the poorest
The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt
each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
I am to believe all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story
The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
he learn's the treasures, of everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of richness
seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty as an illness
Love start's from the soul, and from there it is taught to grow
the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace defining the difference in richest and wealth
t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth
He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
for his wealth is humanly uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...
Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013
Things We Think
He said, “Every man is busy earning money.”
She said, “Is there anything more important than love?”
He said, “Is there anything more important than sex?”
She said, “I think we all just fear death.”
He said, “It’s like the Cats in the Cradle we just need more time.”
She said, “I think we really need more space.”
He moved out to a place with more space.
She soon did not have enough money.
She had to leave behind the house and love.
Once they vowed nothing would do them part not even death.
She never learned the aborted child’s sex.
Biologically he still had more time.
He was ambitious, indoctrinated into the ascent of money.
She worked her fingers to the bone, until her death.
He afforded local expensive sex.
She began to view local nature as expansive space.
He did not connect space and time.
She knew what connected it all was love.
In time he found a new love.
In love, she found time.
He equated good passion with good sex.
She found the emerald walls of nature the best space.
He loved the crisp or dirty, rumpled, green of money.
Homeless— she was reprimanded in the rain “You’ll catch your death!”
it's been said,
The root of all evil is money.
Money can’t buy you love.
Nothing is certain but taxes and death.
I don’t know the question, but the answer is sex.
I need my space.
All we have is time.
I’ve learned to give love and learned that is love.
I’ve learned one’s time is worth more than one’s money.
I’ve learned a small space in nature explains all infinite space.
I’ve learned that gender should not be judged by one’s sex.
I’ve learned that empathy slows time.
I’ve learned from the leaves of grass there is no death.
He is more than his money and she is more than her sex.
In death we find love.
In space there exist time.
Copyright © Toni Orban | Year Posted 2016
Community, what does it mean
And how does it come into being
Well what does the dictionary have to say
“A group of people living together in one place”
I guess that means were all in community
Though if I were to speak in honesty
It feels like we try to live separately
Living by the culture of our country
Which tells us, do it yourself
If your strong, you don’t ask for help
Life is about personal advancement
About money and accomplishments
Hold onto your hardships and pain
Keep striving for personal gain
So many lies deeply engrained
How will we create change?
Well I start with myself
I ask for help
I start with me
I be the change I want to see
I become an infectious contagion
In all of my relations
That could spread across a population
Even across the nations
I model my life after the master of love
Who dwells in the heavens above
He has brought millions even billions together
Over decades, centuries, even millenniums
So what else could be better
Than to faithfully follow him
He who said, I was anointed
to proclaim good news to the poor
to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free”
and I say yeah that’s who I want to be
But unless I engage in community
Unless I get to know my fellow human beings
How can I help to set them free
So its time for me to put aside
Popular culture, foolish pride
Social codes, selfish ambitions
Old roads, and useless traditions
And blaze a brand new trail
With my life, write a new tale
Introduce a new theme
Add in a few more characters
And then dare to dream
About how my story could impact theirs
And their’s impact mine
Because maybe just, maybe
It might be better, might just be
Not to say, I did it on my own
All this, look I did it alone
No maybe it would be better
If we did it together
So that no matter what my lot
I can always know that I’ve got
Friends, right until the very end
Help, ready to be sent
Hands willing to be lent
So what need would I have for advancement
For money and accomplishment
I can find all that I need
Everything I seek from this life,
In relationship with fellow human beings
Community, Maybe this is what it means
Copyright © Roland Fleming | Year Posted 2013
In The Repetition Of A Kiss
When I leave the house to follow traffic patterns
Tie and suitcase in my hand
Running through the door to find rush hour
I buy and sell gold bullion for a living
On the grand piano, the one my wife and I can’t play
I leave a hurried message
“My dear, I’ll be back soon.” “I love you so.”
“Please have the help clean the piano.”
“The one that you and I can’t play.”
“But if I make it rich, you and I can get some lessons.”
“We’ll play an Oratorio. Opera or an Anthem
Or perhaps a symphony or two one day.”
In between each number we will practice kissing
In the end, if we learn nothing, on this instrument
Our hearts and lips will follow every note in memory
In the repetition of a kiss
I leave you a kiss.
As always, I will miss you
In the repetition of a kiss
Created 9/08/14 by: Earl Schumacker - Theme- “Leave You A Kiss” The Poet II – Poetry Contest
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
Grandpa had a bulldog whose name was Tige.
They were close – as close as honey and bees.
If Grandpa felt a cold comin’ on –
Well Ol’ Tige was the one who would sneeze
Grandpa was noted for his wealth and generosity.
His love for me was demonstrated when he paid my college fees.
The love he held for Tige was almost the same for me.
And ol’ Tige was always with Grandpa wherever he might be.
College life was different then, separation was the norm.
And years at Alma Mater meant years far from the farm.
Students have it difficult and allowances soon shrink
So, short of money there, I soon began to think.
Grandpa, bless his giving heart, quickly came to mind
That bulldog owned his generous heart – if somehow I could find
Some way to convince my grandpa to increase the money sent --
I came upon a devious plan – and this is how it went.
I wrote and told my grandpa, “There’s things you ought to know.
The things they’re doin’ here at school will set your heart aglow.”
“They’re takin’ all these sorts of dogs – it came as quite a shock
Grandpa, you won’t believe me, they’re teachin’ dogs to talk.”
Now grandpa loved ol’ Tige so much it didn’t take him long
To ask how much would it take to send ol’ Tige along?
Well, when I gave a figure, Grandpa was satisfied
If this crazy scheme was figured out, there’s no place I could hide.
I kept feeding grandpa all sorts of good reports
How Tige was a star pupil and mascot of all sports
Two years passed and soon there came the time to take Tige home
Grandpa was so excited -- Tige was never more to roam.
Grandpa came runnin’ when I stepped down off the train.
His eager eyes were searching for what he’d never see again.
“Where’s ol’ Tige?” he asked, as we began to walk.
“He’s not comin’.” I replied, “C’mon we need to talk.”
This morning I was shaving in the bathroom by the sink
And Tige was justa talkin’ when he looked at me and winked.
“Ya know’ he said, “I’ll be so glad to be back home at last.”
There are some things I’ve thought about that went on in the past.”
“I was standin’ at the mirror with my razor in my hand
Ol’ Tige was talkin’ ‘bout some things he couldn’t understand.
I could not believe the lies he told – things he’d seen first hand
Like the times he saw you wrestlin’ with that female hired hand.”
His words just lit a fire with the pictures that he painted
I almost couldn’t help myself – Grandpa, I nearly fainted.
It seems that I lost it some and when I finally woke,
I’d grabbed him by the backa his neck and cut his lyin’ throat.
I know grandpa was shaken, I saw it in his eyes.
A look of consternation he could not disguise
He seemed to be relieved, as he looked at me and said,
“Now, Son, I really need to know, are you sure ol’ Tige is dead?”
Years have hidden the truth of this deception that I wrought.
I’m the one who wove deceptive tales that everybody bought.
But when the truth is told at last and no more lies are found
You’ll gladly find an ending that surely will astound.
Grandpa? -- He now lives with Jesus, and me? -- I’m headed there.
Tige? – I know he’s still around though I shouldn’t tell you where.
We made a pact some years ago when things went awfully bad.
For years he’s been the best darn mascot my school ever had.
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2012
Money money, ringing in your tills,
Calling us to worship,
The hundred dollar bills.
Bend our knees in wonder,
Bow our heads in awe,
At the power of the liar,
Who now controls us all.
From the darkest deep caverns,
To the stars in the sky,
From the infinite universe,
To the strangers passing by.
From your inner most conviction,
To your laughing in the night,
From everything you 're seeing,
To everything out of sight.
The new God has risen,
To claim the holy throne,
The one that we have emptied,
Our hearts all cold as stone.
The throne that we have emptied,
We killed the rightful king,
Sold his crown an sceptre,
Pawned his sacred ring.
Raised his bleeding body,
Up on that bloody hill,
The silent lamb still bleeding,
As the money fills your tills.
Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013
On a sale, my Aunt Bel can’t be denied
Access to mark-downs with red, yellow tags
Off for the big loot, her shoulders take pride
In carrying four gigantic tote-bags.
To keep poised, she dons fancy sunglasses
Like those models who shop but then conceal,
A giddy look that excites the senses
Obsessed about offers… Aunt’s set to reel.
Hurrying to snatch branded teenage jeans
Which do not fit her extra large belly;
She picks a bimbo hat, dye, and face-creams
As twinkling eyes roll … what a joyful spree.
While purchases are arranged , now she whines
The Mall’s closing with a long queue that’s packed
Bel groans,” I'm dizzy; my breathing's not fine,”
She gets ahead… feigning a heart attack!
Humorous Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Thomas Martin
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
The Great Puppeteer
The CEO wore a six hundred dollar wool-silk blended suit
and he stroked his tie as he counted his loot
10 million for me
10 million for my stockholders if you please
and that leaves
7 dollars for my employees
leaning back in his leather chair
thinking of the people he uses
we’ve got to stop raising minimum wage
if we’re to go on living in this golden age
the great puppeteer
he knows he’s got a good thing going here
so with a little hocus pocus
he gets his employees to focus
on poor people who live in despair
he gets them complaining about people on welfare
it’s called divide and conquer said he
the poor are so naive
they’ll never see the card I have up my sleeve
I’ll get them fighting over the scraps I leave
and they won’t even notice
I’m having a feast no one would believe!
Copyright © Wally Flint | Year Posted 2015
Financiers feel superior to farmers
and pundits have it over poets.
All to the good because if you think America's
doing just fine, don't skip to the poetry reviews.
Our enemies are barbarous, our allies duplicitous
but our smart bombs are smart - that's how they found you.
Dad said all wars are resource wars. Follow
the money. The world needs more order, nothing
less than Nazis, never may the anarchic man's thoughts
be my thoughts, each shove sends a ping,
shields urge on shields, helmets helmets, we can be
the reigning kings between the last empire and the next
or implement a vision of collective deliberation
and binding agreements. Can China's navy
be harnessed to ensure free passage through
the South China Sea? We'll see how
things work out in the next generation.
In the meantime should I read Henry Kissinger's meditations?
He who thinks poetry's effete
probably considers Darwin a geek and Einstein
a postal clerk. Containment means leaving space
for the passionate and zealous to face themselves
and giving them missiles that don't work.
Slowing everyone down until one thing's done well -
governance or sustenance or brotherhood.
When violence comes to the neighborhood
the hierarchy will hold or fold, it is then the peace work proves relevant.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching outer space
for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.
By that what is meant. Sitting still and thinking deeply
on the relation of anger to coercion,
systems for correcting the decisions of earlier presidents.
We're required to report incidents of depression
to a doctor because you're a valued member of of our community,
or so insignificant no one notices or cares.
How necessary the interface of war and poetry!
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
the past is haunting me
I just want to be free
there doesn’t seem to be an escape
and success have never took shape
is this my destiny
hardly any money
money isn’t God
I may have been flawed
but I’m one hundred percent pure
I believe in this life for sure
Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2013
The last time I had seen this particular cousin of mine, I was still in college and he had a head full of hair. In between, there had been three funerals, two weddings and four births in our Trojan royalty of a family. I had been a university graduate for a year, and the prospect for a job, a decent one at that, had started to grow dimmer by the day. He asked, “Will you tutor my daughter?” “Yes!” I said. And we set out immediately. He, on his bike and I, on my motorcycle following him. We took a right turn at the famous landmark of the statue of demoness Putana, sitting on the grass with her bosom out and legs spread forward. He introduced me to his wife and daughter. Telling them to stand side by side, he told me, “She's only eleven, but look at her! Already equal in length and width to her mother, who is no delicate petal herself. Do you think you can teach her GK?”
The universe wasn't made with dissent. Plus, the chicken samosas were really delicious. I tried on a grin while the overachieving pre-teen bustled around the room showing me her accolades for painting, singing, studying. As I left he pointed at a tree, “Do you know what tree is that?”
“Bael?” I answered thoughtfully.
“Apple. That's an apple tree.”
“Oh! Does it bear fruits?”
“Not in this climate!” He laughed out loud.
Date: 30 / 11 / 2016
Contest: James Tate
Sponsor: Space Cadet
Copyright © Tamal Kundu | Year Posted 2016
THE CITY AND THE STATE OF PLAY TODAY
No one worries about morals today
They follow the rules they create
So to them all is ok
Those on the outside looking in
Are the only ones feeling queasy
As avarice and selfishness triumphs
Good corporate citizens they claim to be
Industry awards abound on their walls
As thank you tokens from themselves
Yet society harbours a lot of ill-will
As it feels the often brute force of
And destroy mentality
Of people only wishing to make money
Any which way
While Using up all of society’s communal resources
The waters are forever bloody as they
Know no fraternity and would gladly
Cannibalize anyone with no influence
The ability to upend competitors
A cherished characteristic
In a bullish machismo drenched environment
Bullet proof psyches
Absorb and repel any pangs
Blocking any regulatory or chattering classes’
Attempt at nirvana and equality
They employ better paid lobbyist
So always have the upper hand
In influencing policy
The gravitational attraction of money
Towards another even bigger pot of money
Numbs any cautionary instinct
That would take a long term view
The thrill of instant riches
Overpowers common sense
And even decency
Fat cats they all wish to be
The slickness of glossy tongued lobbyist
Who spin wrongs till they become rights
Embolden oestrogen low males with no inbuilt brakes
To take risks that eventually cost them disgrace
They are champions of graft not of society
Loopholes in legislation
That were built in by too friendly politicians
Coupled with ambiguous suits and claims
Cause far reaching hardship when the good old days are long gone
The villains only muster some phantom national pride
When begging for a lighter sentence
Some are forgiven
Others fatally wounded by an unforgiving public
Lots of money can be made both legally and illegally
As one racket is closed another materialises instantly
The conveyor belt of dishonesty
Who is not David to the goliath that is money
The ethos is wealth
The acquisition and the maintaining of gains
Not often acquired through hard work
There is no limit of acceptable financial comfort
For the millionaire always wants to be a billionaire
And the mega rich super rich
Money must always be hidden from the taxman
Shareholders want tax free dividends
Investors want tax breaks for buying with other people’s money
Infrastructure and new runways must be built
But not from the pocket of those who wish it
With their hands outstretched
And always wanting more and more
From a government too eager to please
We have a tax system geared to the advantage of party donors
And non-domiciled moguls and tycoons
Who know no philanthropy unless it is tax efficient
Disadvantaging society by
Never paying their fair and moral share
The largess they reap so selfishly
They wish not to share
Wages are low
Taxes are nil
Only the investor wins as we pay his bills
Fast paced expansionist dogma
Is preached within city limits
Only the highest paid
The biggest company
The greatest profits
They are held up as ideals that all who
Wish to succeed must follow
Gunslingers they all appear to be
Rushing in to capitalize on the wanton success of their peers
The cloud of misery left behind
Is never seen for the look forward
Hindsight is never welcomed in this parasitic environment
The political will to weed out these reckless demons
Is lukewarm at best
The revolving door of government creating opportunities
For industry and industry gratefully accepting politicians post government
Ensures that self-interest is king
An economy built on flawed assumptions of wealth creation
Is one that must forever be in hyper-drive
Creating ever expanding demand and supply
That is as real as a thief’s conscience
When taking the rings off a dead persons fingers
Money must always be made for
There is no alternative
Wealth is good
Poverty to them is laziness
The city is not the heart and soul
Of the nation
It is but one player in a system skewed in its favour
We all must share in the wealth of this country
To ensure its longevity
Copyright © evrod samuel | Year Posted 2013
I met someone I know quite well, he gets about in cars, does buy and sell.
He spoke to me upon a theme, we were stirring coffee; I had just added my cream.
When (Fiat) money, he intoned..)
This word does it ring a bell?
Of it have you heard; or known, do tell.?
The cost of Fiat cars I then proclaimed'
No it’s of money I speak,he said if it’s all the same,
I had bought some autos and to me the word was told,
That it is money without collateral backing, that’s the truth stone cold!
So in this stressured contemporary rhyme, I think I must… It’s now high time
In fact a lack of sober views and action which did not ensue...
Control! ….. control!, "well they did not" now high (inflation) pop pop pops..!
Consume, consume they said and greed is good for all..!
Poor old Jim john and Doug..) Rachel, Joan and Queenie McCall..!
A dream was sold and lives were told, It’s Oh! so safe, more so than gold!
Now Fiat cash is on the scene, they run it off Oh! ream on ream
Just like my coffee encircling mug, so here’s to the truth lets give it a plug.
When I again pour in my cream,
as it begins to merge like inflations infusion, Maybe I’ll dream.
That financial fiasco’s and social screams are only rumours on a jittery theme,
However until "their problem" has been (sold), I’ll trade some paper cash for gold.
© Joe Maverick 13-11-2010
Copyright © Joe Maverick | Year Posted 2010
If money was no object I wonder where I’d go
I’d love to visit friends who have just moved to Orlando
I could buy a wonderful mansion packed full of treasure
With servants to wait on me, so I could enjoy my leisure
But to move away from everything I know doesn’t appeal to me
Money doesn’t buy you happiness - well not from what I can see
So in reality I would not move away from my little house
I’d give my fortune to charity and live like a church mouse
When I leave this mortal coil I could look down from my home in the clouds
See that others have benefited, for there are no pockets in shrouds
If You Were Rich
Sponsor Mystic Rose
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
Listen to poem:
break a wishbone
you end up with the small half of the split
it's suppose to be fifty - fifty odds
still we all know a very few of the people
a teeny weeny portion of the population
own the lion share of all the wealth
like bats without radar
we fly blind
spend our days
of the larger piece
of the wishbone
here's the rub
the turkey's already been skinned clean
Mar. 2 2016
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016
There was an old Scotsman named Bill,
who left himself heir of his will.
He saved all his life,
was missed by his wife,
she gave him a cheque as goodwill.
Copyright © Ronald Zammit | Year Posted 2014
Who is knocking on my door tonight?
Debt collectors! Those thugs that we'll ignore
Yuletide woes being sung by my spouse
While we've drawn the shades, and doused the lights!
Everyone knows a turkey and some mistletoe
Would help to make the season bright
But we'll be eating beans, 'cause our pocketbooks are lean
Oh! We're out of Tums!!......The house could blow tonight !!!
They say that Santa's on his way
But our petty cash won't jingle much today
So this mother hen is going to cry
Because her hungry chicks won't have an egg to fry!
And so, I'm offering this simple phrase....
To folks from one to ninety two
Although the recession....is behind our depression...
Merry Christmas, ....Boo Hoo !
(Lyrics written to the tune "The Christmas Song" )(written by Mel Torme)
For Tammy Ream's Contest: "Who Is Knocking On MY Door?"
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015