One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
One man’s pain is another man’s pleasure.
One man’s work is another man’s leisure.
Capital is both the grease and measure,
easing the exchange, relieving pressure.
Each of us has something the other wants:
cash versus dinner at a restaurant.
When fair trades occur, lots to buy and sell.
Too many regulations become hell;
lack of oversight has problems as well.
Finding the right balance is hard to tell.
Sellers will raise prices in a shortage
such as fuel in a power outage.
When you need to drive, then you’ll likely pay;
some can wait it out, buy another day.
Prices drop down when there’s too much supply,
moving some pressure to the selling guy.
This system has worked for a long, long time;
yeah, there are some quirks; in general it’s fine.
The world seems to grow in prosperity
when markets are open, markets are free.
I look at my portfolio;
It makes me want to hurl.
For one day, all is calm and fine;
The swine then eats the pearl!
I do not mean to sound complaint
Like some great oafish churl,
But ups and downs like these of late?
My stomach flops and twirls.
I think that I may now know why;
I’m going to take a whirl:
The market tracks the hormones of
A thirteen-year-old girl!
Whale Sharks are listed as, endangered
and are found in, all tropical oceans on the planet
They are the largest fish and nothing like the Titanic
and their white spotted skin, makes them known as gentle giants
Adults are often seen feeding, at the ocean’s surface
but can dive one thousand meters, to feed on plankton
They can travel very long distances, for the need to feed
to sustain their huge size, and their need of reproduction
They are highly valued, on the international black markets
for the human need of greed, of their meat, oil and fins
They are victims of bycatch, when fishing for the supermarkets
and fishing disturbs their feeding, that can led to propeller injuring
Voters turn consumers
Using their votes
To buy money
At the poll markets
The curfew city rustles
People begin their hustles
Transport and markets bustle, noisily
The curfew has served its purpose,obviously
We get it more clearly now
From ourselves we knew not, to protect us, how
Enter the consummate politician
He protects business interests, not the Physician
He spews numbers daily bigger
Wields authority, we figure
Advises that we borrow heavily, to save us
We get broker, as we fall under the debt bus
eye-GASMS are artful things of flesh left out by the woods /
she went were-wolves once ate meringue pie before acquiring
a human fedora and impressed all the women at the outdoor
market where butchers smoke meat and flay cigars with white
whiskered smiles. Where were the yokes when sadness crept
over the clouds and a comedian choked on a badly baked joke?
:: 08042019 ::
How I love this time of year
When Christmas markets beckon!
All major cities have them
And some small towns, too, I reckon.
The festive booths display their wares,
A lot of them hand-crafted,
Their quality assuring you
That no, you won’t get shafted.
From jewelry (my favorite)
To ceramics, hats and leather,
The dealers ply their products
In whatever kind of weather.
For now’s the time that people buy –
The ornaments and mittens
And toys and t-shirts, socks and mugs
Adorned with pups or kittens.
Of course, there’s hot mulled cider
Paired with donuts, for such offers
Keep shoppers warm and cozy,
Tempting them to fill the coffers.
Today I splurged on earrings
Though I’m often quite contented
To just browse and see what’s out there,
All so very well-presented!
When night markets begin to come alive;
Kaleidoscope of light glitters the street
As sundries pile, welcoming a throng’s dive
Where voices shrill to haggle for fine treat:
And cacophony rasps like a foghorn
When perpetual hysteria rises
Through bargains from outfits , gems, to sweet corn
In spiraled race, women bark off prices.
While chaotic noise drums twisted chatter
Taxis, large vans honk … causing wild bedlam
Along with merchants who join guests’ tattler
On an evening of riotous wham!
Above red lanterns , metro guards scurry,
Pursuing crooks in frays through lanes, hollow …
Yet, this apocalypse does not worry
Most buyers chasing for wares they follow.
John Hamilton’s Eight Word Challenge-4
9/24/2017
It’s been a choppy day for trading,
And the market’s looking wan,
Gold is sticking to its vaults
While Bitcoin faces a ban
Greece is eying the drachma,
Its kebabs now overcooked,
While Chinese knees are trembling
As America cooks its books
And as the rich get richer
And the poor man fades away,
Money, gold and diamonds,
Will always win the day.
Flea Markets
I’ve shopped the local markets
You’ve all shopped ones like these
You go early in the morning
Hope for a morning breeze
They sell things nobody wants
Like padlocks without keys
And clothes so old and musty
I just can’t help but sneeze
I was really disappointed
For nowhere did I see
A single dog, or cat, or pet
That came complete with fleas
Why are they called flea markets
Is that title just a tease
Where’s the truth in advertisement
Won’t someone tell me please
The Markets Are Down.
Banish the hubris,
Toss away the choice words
Spoken by rotten, broken tongues.
Silence the chorus of appalled shock.
Shred the sermons,
Burn down the gory edifices:
The churches, mosques, temples
And the muted Gods they mock.
Drain the sewage.
Flush away the insidious odour
Seeping up from malls, homes, carnivals.
Put it in a closet and weld the key in the lock.
Shut it all off.
Turn out the lights.
Pull the damned plug.
But hold on to that blue-chip stock.