Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Fiat money, printed freely and wildly
     Contributes directly to big government
          Because they don’t need the will of the
               People (paying taxes) for large programs.
                    Instead the government can just use new
                         Money created by the big central banks
                          When money is not created easily but
                    Instead is only created by honest work
               And energy expenditure, this naturally
          Limits the resources the government
     Can use for their projects and ideas.
Bitcoin is the money based on work
You can see this poem on a background here -
The anguish flows when money dies
Amid the child’s and mother’s cries
It comes when scarcity is lost
And money made without a cost

Taking savings, stealing time
Open theft through hidden crime
Stones or feathers, shells or beads
These all once filled money needs

And represented hours of work
Yet money died when people shirk
And made more units, cheap and fast
Then money died - it did not last

We work for money - you and me
But central banks just print for free
Fiat money - scarce no longer
Loss of savings growing stronger

We need scarcity - absolute
No debasement - no dispute
Bitcoin provides the solution clear
Thank God Bitcoin’s finally here

180 nations - use fiat today
All are dying - come what may
Bitcoin conquers the fiat lies
Bitcoin is Hope, when money dies
You can see this poem on a background here -
There is a book by the same name, documenting the hyperinflation in Germany.  Read it if you dare.

The exact title is When Money Dies: The Nightmare of Deficit Spending, Devaluation, and Hyperinflation in Weimar, Germany.

Deficit spending is immoral, ineffective, and hurts people.

When new units of money are created easily, they go to certain groups and people first.  Look up the Cantillon Effect
Fiat money is unsound money
   Because governments can print
      More of this money at low or no cost
         The printing of more money is so easy
            That those in power can never resist the
               Urge to create new money for their use
                   The fiat supply remains unpredictable
                    Let’s use a money with known supply
               The solution is to create a limited money
            That has a cost to the creation of units
         This money would be sound if no group
      Or person has the option to issue new
   Money beyond what was programmed
You can see this poem on a background here  This is the ninth poem in the problems and solutions series.
“Fiat” in Latin means “let it be done”
Yes, a “binding edict” for everyone
So “fiat money” means “by decree”
THE approved money for you and me

“Fiat lux” means “Let there be light”
God said the words, God has the right
But fiat money by leaders decreed
Abuses that role - if inflating by greed

Dollars are printing by trillions, it’s true
And all decreed money is inflating too
If “by decree” - debased money we use
Much of its value we can and do lose

Now you can use a “money” that’s new
Not “by decree”, so it’s freeing for you
Bitcoin is money that plays by the rules
Safe and predictable - no one it fools

The money printing, controlled by a few
Takes from the rest - not much we can do
You can use Bitcoin, by choice - not decree
Let’s make the choice - so we can be free
This is Bitcoin Poem 008 at and you can see it displayed on a background when you (copy and paste the link below).
Brian Feb 2019

Long Crypto - Short Banks!
it is a niche out there, but a few people might like it :)
Having summoned an Uber I walked
Into the Remise to await for its arrival.
Unusual, the owners of this 1750’s building
Had refused to knock down the Remise
And as it was snowing and cold it sure was
A comforting place to wait out of the weather.

I imagined how it must of looked in its heyday
Full of fine coaches and horse tack.
For a moment I could smell a horse all bridled
And strapped with new leather – something which
Stirred up an agreeable sensation within me;
I could feel the churlish beast chomping at the bit.

Twiddling my thumbs as I waited I wondered if
There were anyone left to construct such an ancient
Horse drawn carriage or was there even anyone left
Who could ever think of using it.
But as oft I do I let my mind wander to
Those good old days, though not one of which I knew.

Closing my eyes, I swear that I could smell the oak fire
Of a blacksmith’s furnace and I could hear the
Gent solidly hammering out a new set of gaited horseshoes.
In my minds eye I could see the Remise all
Full of carriages, each hooked to a fine stead -
What a grand sight it must of truly been.

It was then that I felt a hand in mine and when I
Turned toward the hand – to my wandering eye -
I had a hold on the most intriguing creature that God
Had ever given a man to hold, I dared not open my eyes.
She looked into my soul and asked me,
“Sir, which carriage?”

At about 8 paces in front of us was what I suppose
Was the best equipped of the lot and as its driver
Stepped down and made his way toward me/us
I noticed the lady was as taken with it as myself.
So Monsieur De La Dessein – the driver – or at
Least that was how he introduced himself,

Then he asked me if we cared to take the Grand Tour.
He led us up to the door of the chaise and as he opened
The door I said, “This one will not do,
It is hardly big enough for one.”
The lady, without hesitation, pushed me toward the
Door whispering, “Get in.”

Upon her insistence I climbed aboard taking up
All but about 4 inches of the seat cushion
When the lady put her head and foot in the
Carriage saying, “Move over.”
With no place to move I tilted up on one cheek
With my legs – one atop of the other.

Now my lady was climbing in full bodied and all
To find that she too must sit on one cheek facing me
With our knees knocking against each other.
The driver shut the door as the lady said, “Abarth.”
The horse sprang to life as the “La Grand Tour” began.
Face to face, body to body this buggy ride was …

How should I say it ….


And then I did the stupidest thing that I’d ever done.
I opened my eyes to find the Remise empty -
No carriages, no horses, no blacksmith and no ravishing beauty.
Just an empty place to get in out of the weather.
My heart sank lower than it had ever been before.
What mind is this that can wander so ****** far from reality?

A little tiny car whipped into the Remise and right in front of me
It turned a half moon pulling up to me.
I noticed the labeling on the front of the car – Fiat.
The back windows were all blacked out.
The driver got out coming toward me on the passenger side.
As he opened the back door I asked him what kind of car this was.

He said it was a Fiat Abarth and he hoped that
I didn’t mind sharing the ride.
As I bent over peering inside the driver said his name
“Monsieur De La Desein” and sitting on
One cheek in the back of this mutant automobile
Was – that intriguing creature that I had just dreamed about.

Carefully – more expertly this time – I crawled into
The back – on one cheek – face to face
As the Uber driver asked me, “Where to.”
In perfect unison – we in the back replied
“La Grand Tour please.”

God, please don't make me open my eyes...
Prabhu Iyer Apr 2015
Famed to have brought light into being, but
dark, dark you are my friend, passing
through me effortlessly, though I know
there is an interaction: week, very week.

Deep there buried somewhere in my soul
was a throb heard, when every miracle
that forms the chain of my life surfaces:
and I've been searching for you. I thought

you were beyond oceans, where sky meets,
until my ship turned around at the horizon;
I looked for you in the womb of terran vaults
and then in the planets and the stars,

and you have been collapsing fields and
manifesting timelines so I proposer, meanwhile.
You are not what I worshipped in image and
then smashed it and sought in formless word.

Every time I grasp you, you vanish, retreat,
bubble-being, who knows what exists beyond
this expanse we inhabit, these membranes
and curled up manifolds, where in the knots

I'm still searching; But before even this unfolds
in full, I discover, it is all dark, darkness
that holds these tiny galaxies of light in its
densest folds; Magicienne, wave your wand,

let us know beyond the dark and the illuminated,
let us in, into the secret chamber of kinship.
Wearing my geek hat - mystical piece, prompted by this breathaking research:

— The End —