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I used to be a fool,
thinking I could live on love.

But it seems you need some Dinero, 
If you wanna rise above. 

Silk suits and Bentleys 
don't grow on trees. 

And the ladies always prefer
The guys with the money.

Now I ain't sayin she's a Golddigger,
But Kayne said it best, 
She ain't messin with no broke N---a's.

He said it not me, 
So cut me some slack,
let's finish the story.

I used to believe
I could live on love.

I used to believe, 
Love is all you need.

Lennon said, That Baby!

I used to believe I could live on love.

But then I met you!

I used to believe, 
I could live on love.

But now!

Now I know!

"Baby it's True!!!"
(Just a fool Living on Love)
Thanks for the title Anais.
Fiat money consists of units of debt,
   With its creation tied to borrowing, to
      Repay with interest. Yet as debt grows,
         The value of each dollar shrinks, eroding
            Savings, distorting markets, stealing time.
               Debt-money rewards few, but hurts many.
                  Therefore
               We need a money that is not debt-based.
            This money would be an actual unit of
         Wealth that has a verified finite supply.
      A transparent ledger that can be openly
   Checked, but cannot be manipulated
Or controlled.  Bitcoin is the Answer!
You can see this poem on a background here - https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery130UnitOfWealth.html
trot it all out     two tottering opposites                                
            duelling sets   of things we ought think
two angers   we must take like a ***** draught
and we are distractible
one feeding of fear   to link us all                         
    and we are made quite yielding
                                        
i feel willing now  to rush upon death   just to get the it over with
and the dragons can take the hoard                      
                             and disable its currency
a real species stopper
well done
Gbenga A Mar 5
nothing makes your head swell more than this statement
"my brother, keep the change"
just like that, you are married to 11 wives
6 of them kneeling with pounded yam and spice
the remaining 5 singing lullabies as 18 cry
with you sitting on a chair, made of bones of elephant thighs.

you feel like if you stood, up on the highest peak
you would see the entire world, high lands and the farthest seas
and when your mouth opens, words coming out to speak
like the grains of sand, the people would pour out to listen.

So here I am, my head, as big as a microwave
walking to my hostel.
for now I feel like a king
but by the end of the month, I'm sure
I would wish I didn't speak.
Malia Mar 3
“Thank God that they fight over mites,”
Remarks bourgeoisie’s Big Brother.
Proles’ one tool is each other, but
It’s always night if you’ve short sight.
Tried out a barzaletta today! Fun little Italian form, but it’s not very defined. Many different interpretations.
Many nations of the world have a
   Sovereign Wealth Fund to hold value
      Over many years for the country’s people.
         Just as with individual savings, it’s a problem
            When much value is lost through debasement.
               Nations need a savings tool that holds value!
                  Therefore
               Many nations and states are adopting bitcoin
            For a part of their sovereign wealth fund so
         That the value is preserved for generations.
      Bitcoin is independent of any one nation,
   Permissionless, decentralized, liquid,
Easy to store, and highly secure.
You can see this poem on a background here - https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery128SovereignWealth.html
neth jones Feb 17
courting breaths   after blue i brighten
       i lighten   with originless humour
and then ugliness anew                          
   i tighten   into some packed pearl of monster
breathe in   breathe out   courting breaths
the susurration    of all this lung
resuscitation    and it's 'good morning mourning'

then 'bring out the empathy' !  and zitty connections
and marvel over   'those poor things'          
larval in their struggles   up the redline
and envision throwing them heaps               
of hairdryers  salad spinners  monopoly boards
            vibrating cushions  for back massage
and obscure tinned delicacies  from my extensive travels
the five devils of my mind  tackle my erratic breath
five mad ideas  of how to run their lives
                        milk their hive
form a worship  and go to war..

..then it is i who goes larval                  
                          carving in on my minuscule heart
crutching in like a fractured pill bug
not daring to raise my eyes      
             for fear of offending my superiors
breathe in   breathe out
counting down the breaths til rattle
Heidi Franke Jan 16
Let's walk down a path
Of economic prosperity
Turned to wealth
And forget the person

Definition of improving
What already exists
Translates to robot creation
From human biome matrix

We look over our shoulder
What wAs once us fades
As R and D facilities erase
Try to prove their worth

At what cut in our flesh
How deep into tissue
Or sawed bone are you
Willing to purchase

A world now
                 not our own?
How has progress in the capitalist experiment helped and hurt us? Who is watching the wealth spawned by innovation drown out the pawns. The average human. Who is watching the greed while we really are just an ingredient in someone's experiment? (Think tech industrial complex)

"Research and development (R&D) is the series of activities that companies undertake to innovate. R&D is often the first stage in the development process that results in market research product development, and product testing."
Zywa Jan 2
The clock strikes twelve times,

twelve times I hand out grapes, and --


have some left over.
Nochevieja (New Year's Eve in Spain and Argentina)

Collection "New Ago"
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
The burden of life weighed heavily upon me while I was young;
a constant whisper in my ear that I lacked real sweetness, using
tablespoons of sugar to fill my cup. I once held the naive belief that
I would depart this world with a smile, if I ever died too young.
I found myself swearing that my life would plan out better; feeling
as though I would have things figured out – but I tend to swear
mostly under pressure, to a life feeling more like I ****** up.

In a place where the slightest act of indulgence is met with scorn—
where reaching for a bit more water from the *** is seen
as a sacrilege, as if I might taint the very essence of life itself—
yet everyone so is quick to drink out of same big cup. The human
eyes is so oblivious to their own hypocrisy.

My youthful hands, were once so eager to grasp the reins of
responsibility, but trembled with the fear that I could never bear the
weight of what was expected of me, especially to those who nurtured
me with such care, longing to return their kindness with open palms.

Life, it seems, is merely a calculation— a game of figures; whether
you figure it best to navigate it as a devout follower of faith, or as be
a seeker in the chaotic realm where success is only measured by the
right figures.

Ah, what a life it is… go figure!
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