Long Financing Poems
Long Financing Poems. Below are the most popular long Financing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Financing poems by poem length and keyword.
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BOMBS DON'T KILL PEOPLE. PEOPLE KILL PEOPLE.
- In memory of the La Vegas shooting victims –
A planet burning out from the inside
A race of life reinventing the tide
Survival roars its howling call in the wind
The countdown to destruction begins
Technology forces faith to find a way
Scientific endeavours illuminate the dark in new ways
An evolution of man sparks a flame
Planets anew are found
Planets offering mankind a firm ground
Human life exists so far away
Though human means different things in different ways
Heaven found in life remains
Realisation of life forces change
A new kind of human, like us but not in so many ways
A chance discovery is made
This fate of evolution finds a way
To seal the fate of our kind in our place
Earth is the punishment of bad souls
Heaven found faraway shows this so
We live over and over again
On this planet where evil remains
Some find their light in their way
Some find a place there to stay
Most of us will remain here in this place
Suffering living in our ways
Each rebirth is cleansed from the last
But evil in some will last
The earth is human punishment of souls
True heaven exists on planets where we'll never go
There life is the joy of living without pain
No evil exists, no starving, killing, financing. No punishment, no lists.
No one will ever invade
They know our planet by a different name
To us they live in heaven with no pain
To them the earth is hell, our souls are tainted and disgraced.
These are the days when
Peace becomes war
Less becomes more
Love becomes hate
Hope becomes wait
Joy becomes sorrow
Yesterday becomes tomorrow
These are the days when
Truth becomes lies
Suicide becomes survive
Ugly becomes beauty
Deception becomes duty
Life becomes death
Theft becomes gift
These are the days when
Day becomes night
Brave becomes fright
Pleasure becomes pain
Reason becomes insane
Might becomes weak
Shallow becomes deep
These are the days when the bold cold truth
Shall shatter the fragile hearts and empty minds
Of an angry ignorant mob bent on self slavery
Hate Columbus but occupy others land
Hate walls but build your own
Hate police but police your hostages
No intolerence, No thinking, No other point of views
Goose step marching, rioting, looting pillaging
And killing for any excuse that comes your way
Someone is paying for all this, someone is financing chaos
Enraged and scared by a false media protecting and egging them on
When education becomes indoctrination
Chanting slogans that mock the very freedoms they surrender
Poor ignorant fools when enough is enough
That hard bold cold truth will pierce your bubble
Restore peace, rebuild lives and spread freedom for all
Years from now the shame you feel from the hurt you caused
Wounds and death of the very communities you claim support of
You can lynch truth but it will struggle free
And shine the light of love to free even you
The Federal Reserve is often confused with the U S Treasury,
so I am here to eliminate this confusion with the utmost of clarity.
The Federal Reserve Is Not the U S Treasury.
It is a private owned central bank that has driven the U S Treasury,
into perpetual bankruptcy.
Who funds the U S Treasury?
The taxpayer, you and me.
We also fund the Federal Reserve weekly.
Federal withholding from our paycheck goes to the Federal Reserve directly,
to bail out governments' financing inefficiencies.
The CEOs and their cronies at the Federal Reserve,
are all enjoying a super rich lifestyle they do not deserve,
provided by the blood, sweat and tears from all of our labors.
Ghost Rainbow
A woman rang me, she was panegyric about my poems
I smiled without mirth because I knew there would be
a question of financing, the publishing of a book I have
had high hopes for, but had been turned down too often
The woman was adamant about the manuscript
Intense Recall was art, she insisted, a mastery of art.
For one who has spent twenty years trying to become
A writer and poet can so easily fall for flattery
The woman, on the phone, said she loved me, that alone
rang warning bells, and I thought of the Fascist poet, who
lived in Italy all his life, a poet who expects to be paid
is not a real poet; I assume he, like so many other poets
had private means
The price for making me into a famous poet was not
excessive, quite reasonable, yet too much, so I have
to forgo being famous; that is ok, no one will sit down
and write lies about me
They survived the Great Depression, my parents did
living from hand-to-mouth for over a decade
Took any job they could get, and were grateful for it
working 72 hours a week for a ‘salary’ of twelve lousy bucks
My father watched grown men cry and jump out of tenement windows
ashamed that they could not provide for their families – two or three a day, he told me
My mother heard ‘dirty Jew’ hurled at her so often
she became obsessive about washing her hands and face…
…Yet when it came time to serve their country
they were first in line for the privilege of seeing America through WW2
Fighting side by side with fellow un-hyphenated Americans
Jewish or Catholic, from Italy or France – didn’t matter
Americans all, they fought their hearts out for the Stars and Stripes
for the land of the brave and the home of the braver
******
And now, it pains me to see what we’ve become on the cusp of our 250th birthday
Capitalists fleeing our signature city, NYC, run by an unrepentant socialist radical
‘Woke’ Governors, Congressmen and Mayors giving away ‘stuff,’
Free health care, free college, free food, free rent, free bus service, free, free, free
The greatest public misfit of any age, Bernie Sanders, the cheerleader egging it all on
And the devil himself, George Soros, quietly financing the destruction of the country
America! that saved his life, granting him refuge from the Nazis
******
May my mother and father, and their entire generation, rest in peace knowing they made
America great once and made us all so proud.
Team leader Renee peered out
of her faux gold window around a pulsing Friday noon.
“Almost like we’re puppets of each other down there.
Maybe everywhere?”
Albert, her partner and co-worker were apt to look down on the buzz where their joint venture, their central office, was located.
Quite often hoards of people of all age groups hung out, shrieked with joy, abandon, near the hazy plume cafe.
They were snacking and sharing purchases.
There was rainbow signage to the left of this group promoting all the companies within Renee, and Albert’s brief.
The name of their company was Hereafter Unlimited.
Close and “trustworthy” friends formed this postgraduate 7 person cluster which later evolved into quite a
mind-bogglingly complex concern.
Hair-raising hubs were hatched.
Geniuses one and all created one matrix after another of sequential self-financing companies.
Ideas among them spread like avalanches.
Songs and puns were sung.
They had “flames” or “wildfire” intensity at their fingertips.
They were at the mercy of their own brilliance.
Their aim was to bring countryside joys into every nook and cranny in their chosen capital.
There were bookstores, clubs, restaurants and other outlets named after the multifaceted rustic charms that obsessed them.
Each outlet had a communal dining area to draw in clientele.
The underlying idea behind all these shops, stores, stations
was to have a magnetic pull.
Havens, an escape hatch that would leave an out of this world impression on the visitor.
From energetic background music to kaleidoscopic screens, to elaborately sculpted tables, mahogany tint chairs, azure blue halo moon menus, kid zones in high jinx.
Cascade after cascade of hue swirls in tandem with jubilant dance trope very much in evidence.
A magic merry go round motif underpinned each inventive hub.
Once savoured, never forgotten.
Festivity a frequent festoon, mouth watering smorgasbord without rein running riot.
The element of surprise, key and kernel to atmospheres that thrived on visionary continuum
while atop the surface of planet Earth humanity
all abustle skittering
to and fro, hither and yon
engaged in self important activity yielding profits,
sans blood, sweat and tears won
full throttle industrial
manufacturers quaking unstoppably
only intermittently pausing,
where managers standing arms akimbo
asper quizzical looking hue cree ton
megaphone blaring orders to underlings
so "Boss" tweed can line pockets
for his/her daughter and/or son
Head Honcho most aggrieved,
when red ink doth run
undermining the bottom line,
thus farming out labor to distant places
(where wages amount
to pennies on the dollar)
locals such as Lake Woebegone, Qum, Timbuktu,
et cetera where pun
gnashing working conditions tantamount
to slave labor,
yet scare other options open
hence able bodied men,
women and children scramble,
despite back breaking grueling physically
exhausting grunt job accepting second to none
with nary any rest for weary
long as workweek includes a mon
day, where bloodied bare hands claw
purported Mother lode
with feigned frenzied zest
enterprise bolstered
via executive bank ministers
financing lucrative scheme
attended to by majordomo
attired in expensive vest
corporate investment project elicits
quaffing, imbibing, and chugging elixir
produced from heavily guarded recipe
qua electric kool aid acid test
where coeval business men/women rest
assured bonanza forecast upon
former green acres hiding treasured quest
marginally concerned such nettlesome
pillaging, ravaging, torturing ranks
wealth driven vanity as deleterious pest
shortsighted exploitation money making embarkation
glorified as investment nsync to feather nest
retirement funds despite leaving the environment messed
up, whereby future generations saddled with
poorly bandaging gentrifying, resuscitating
gaping wounds upon Gaia at best
shortening quality of life
for all (poetry) Earthlings aye attest.
NOT W.I.P.
By: Tom Wright
9/2/98
Jesus of Nazareth, who was a carpenter’s son,
Hung on the cross with His Life on earth done.
The rebuilding business He continues today,
Rebuilding lives if sincerely we pray.
When He rebuilds a life no signs will you find,
Stating, " work in process, " or schedule behind.
No bad weather delays, for the Son always shines
And in God's, realm just your word is what binds.
No mortgage financing will you need to arrange,
You’ll see instead, a sudden and complete change.
No need for sweat equity, no payments to start,
But in faith believing, you just give Him your heart.
There is a network of very powerful entities.
All worship satan very seriously.
Their network ranges internationally,
engaging in a great variety of the most depraved criminality.
Their satanic ideology,
is to bring about the end of the world eventually,
so that a new world can begin,
ruled by them and satan.
They range from street people to businessmen,
and have a great influence in many departments of law enforcement,
to the high ranks of very powerful international politicians.
They are involved in the drug trade and the trafficking of children,
to feed the depraved appetites of rich, powerful, deviant men and women,
then this demonic network moves on to blackmailing them,
providing in great part this network's financing.
Many sensationalized crimes that were broadcast to everyone,
has a direct connection to this network that worships satan,
who believe that random acts of violence, chaos and terrorism,
will bring about their deity's foreseen armageddon.
where they will all forever rule under their master satan.
As fantastic as this sounds, it is really happening.
There is a great deal of cooperated documentation.
They are completely off the grid with no fixed location,
but beware, The Process Church of the Final Judgement.