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spaghetti  Mar 2017
I Like Money
spaghetti Mar 2017
I really like money, is that a shame?
If you don’t have money, is your boss to blame?
I want to keep my dollars,
I got bills to pay,
Less taxes, more money,
Hip Hip Hooray!
eli  Feb 18
not for sale
eli Feb 18
gracing the streets,
with her pink stilleto
and a pricy frappuccino---
she barely sips.
they can't take their eyes off her,
well, who would?
even I,
I can't.

she has class and elegance,
money, power---
what else is missing?
oh, I know,
the reason I stared at her for a minute.
I just can't forget,
how unbothered she is---
when she threw the empty cup
on the ground.
I wonder why
she doesn't use her bills---
to buy some manners?
Oh wait,
I forgot--
that's not for sale.
Dead Rose One Mar 2015
In The Prison Of Winter, No Rise, No Set**

orbit nearly closed,
the radio announcer gleefully
chirruping, the twittering fool,
"only ** graves to X off till
                                               spring"

the weight of the prior
the wait of the more
no matter how little
yet to come
                    too much insufferable

having suffered
multiple life sentences
you snit ****, u don't know better,
ha, they don't even run
                                         concurrently


there are no sunsets
in the girding grays
of harsher enough and words that fail me,
are the winners in the
winter of the ****,
tests and hunts,
I have successfully
                                 failed

of course I'm wrong you
petulant hobgoblin wringing
nyet from me you'll get no concession,
**** science,
there are no sunsets in the winter
and the sunrises,
short unsweetened,
light-less, less of less,
frigid glaring revealers
of dead trees
and deader
                    men

maybe in the Rockies,
perhaps the Alps,
wonderlands photoshopped,
pretty lies on the Internet BS posted

where I live,
wear the wear the weary
neath the sweat stink of layers of
unbundled choking hands,
winter's damage
assessed and assessment is
never overdue, payable in
                                             immediacy

heating bills I can't pay,
a job that said no more of you,
unpretty please,
a woman who sorcerer-scarced herself
right freaking black magic quick,
trust me I have certified verified,
me and Nixon,
X's on the kitchen calendar,
there is daylight, there is mighty night,
almighty in long and colorless
and nothing in between,
but the smog stained slush of
                                                    smothered life

but definitely
no sunrises and no sunsets
watched all day from the
imprisoning kitchen window
which doubles
as a *******
                       mirror

there are no, not any,
you know what,
cannot even say them,
the pipe dreams of better yet,
pipes that have beaten down
me and my
disassociated senses,
signed sealed and now delivered,
from the formerly known as
The Summer Man
MA Montgomery Jul 2018
how is it
that they still don't understand
that we already *******
KnOw
how to use Excel

we already *******
KnOw
how to pay the bills

we already *******
KnOw

and they're either too **** stupid to realize
that
we don't need coddling or saving

or

they're afraid to let us go
they're afraid of losing their investments
they're afraid of losing their power
they're afraid to let us live
oof
Still Crazy Sep 2014
I don't ask your permission
to make a fool of myself,
tell you publicly
what my near, dear ones
have almost no clue

my mental torment,
headache-constant,
imperial and impervious
poetry, pills, therapy,
caring words
don't pay my kind of bills

a man has a job.
Feed you family.
Protect and serve.

do  it well,
there is no acceptable excuse.
none.

was supposed to be easing on down,
slipping under.

come so far, my soul is old.
my tired is w/o definition.
the legs, knotted shoulders,
body aging faster than I can write.
the doctors only give me
if's and unless's,
contingencies in order
to die a little slower

warped, reversal of causality,
the older I get,
the more mouths to feed.
tough, this unexpected situation,
a nine lives time survivor,
do it again?

defraud myself,
living like I can afford
to write,
with courageous reckless abandon,
when earnest is deadly
and Lady Luck gave me the finger.

simply amazing.
eyes, constantly tearing,
nobody notices.

Do not ! Like this poem,
don't.
hate weak,
been strong so long.
this well, just got dregs left,
drudgery ain't potable, or even
worth drinking.

need nothing,
for myself, need nothing.
not one object on this planet
want to posses or be possessed by.

Monday wrestle with strife,
star in my reality show once again.
now, deny reality.

Do not!
Like this poem,
don't.
hate weak,
been strong so long.

my voice is stilled,
it's poverty exposed,
ashamed of every word I ever wrote.

hush me not, for tis true,
write on for an audience of one,
on but one subject,
a life, mine,
yet, still unmastered,
after decades of trying.

poverty exposed,
a life unmasked
for what it is worth,
or not.
Arjun Raj Jul 2016
Swipe in
Swipe out
Pay bills
And *******

“Repeat” they say
And you might be,
Programmed to deceive
Time, freedom, and drive,
To only move forward,
Or rather be just fooled into
Believing that you
Are moving forward,
By coming back to

Swipe in
Swipe out
Pay bills
And *******
Again

Why?,
We must question
Where?,
Did we **** up
When?
Did we exhaust our drive,
The passion, to be a somebody,
To make a difference
To touch people’s lives
To follow our dreams,
Lets introspect for a while,
While we,

Swipe in
Swipe out
Pay bills
And *******
Yet again

What is this trap,
This false sense of accomplishment,
The short lived excitement,
And a remorseful hangover,
Friday nights be like another step
Towards an inevitable end
Only that we come back on Monday to

Swipe in
Swipe out
Pay bills
And *******
All over again
Q  Dec 2016
Endless
Q Dec 2016
People look for the fountain of youth
But I am a fountain of words

I wield them like weapons
They slip from my grip
I spend them like bills
They steep me in wealth
I tuck them in my pockets
They spill from my lips
I give them as gifts
They stick in my teeth
I kiss them on cheeks
They slide down my throat
I stack them on shelves
They pile at my feet
I pack them in boxes
They stain my sheets
I burn them to ashes
They pow-

I hope you get it because
This **** is endless and
I forgot where I was going with this
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