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#solutions
A nuclear war is as dumb as a bad dream Nobody will live to see the fatal effect of such a steam War is criminal. War is inhumane and deadly And rich nations will be as poor as dead shells in the sea Everyone agrees that war is suicidal Everyone agrees that war brings mortar, anger Hunger, pain, suffering, death, horror and terror But a nuclear war is deadlier, nastier and bloodier More painful, more criminal, more diabolical More devastating, more witless and more evil Human being was born to put things together To build, not to annihilate and not to ****** God created humans to make the world better Not to destroy, not to burn or to shatter A nuclear war would be a total disaster No human is really dumb to have such a war Let's swear not to have a **** one. We can roar Like lions to scare off the tigers. We can fistfight All we want. The best way to test our might Is to dialogue, to talk to each other like humans To avoid the ruins and to find lasting solutions A nuclear was is a universal nightmare War does not solve anything in the deep stratosphere Frankly, a nuclear war is absolutely unnecessary Wake up people to smell and inhale the coffee. Copyright © February 2016 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
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Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 12:44 AM UTC
A Nuclear War Is As Dumb As A Bad Dream
You got to go through the fire to get to the rain You got to keep Being persistent Again and again You have tried and. you have tried For quite a while, You have gone through struggles and so many trials If you want to see the sunshine, Break through the Clouds of gray, Give it another go, and Welcome your Sunny Days It may have been rough, and Had you feeling so blue, but You made it through the fire, and Your Go time is due So, before you give up Your agility is gained Always just remember that Conquer the Fire to get to the rain!!! B.R. Date: 8/15/2025
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Aug 16, 2025
Aug 16, 2025 at 2:46 PM UTC
You got to go through the fire to get to the rain
#*A tough outer shell Soft inner core, within In crevices deep Lies sweet water still Calm and swift The duck glides by The pond Where predators lurk Like the powerhouse Its energy source, profound When it lights up Brightens the whole town An inspiration Lies in the unlikeliest of places Manifests itself In Petals of lotuses Sometimes in life’s unexpected turns Time unveils Solutions right Hidden In plain sight*#
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Jul 6, 2025
Jul 6, 2025 at 2:34 PM UTC
Unseen strength
Think of the moments, You stop everything, and stare, Sometimes, not looking at anything, Sorting, energy, into thoughts, That arrive so fast, out of no where, The best ideas & solutions, Are not always, a long drawn out plan, Often they just arrive, As if someone, just placed them in your hand. The original: Tom maxwell 05/27/2025AD
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May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 7:52 AM UTC
Energy into Thoughts
The beach spray there was downright heavenly. Then salty tears streamed down my bright red face. Was my face red from crying or a growing sunburn? I asked this question as I slowly came to in a hospital. The IV in my arm dripped clear liquid into my veins. I’m sorry that my solutions are always so very saline.
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Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 7:53 PM UTC
59/6 "Saline Solutions"
It's like walking on PINS and NEEDLES, which is very, very HARD to ENDURE, While going through TRYING TIMES, and HARDSHIPS, Looking for HOPE but just NOT TOO SURE. When LIFE is GIVING you LEMONs or You are just HANGING on by a THREAD, or looking for a SCAPEGOAT or, MAYBE IT ALL IN YOUR HEAD. Whenever there is a PROBLEM,   an ISSUE or NO RESOLUTION, JUST ALWAYS REMEMBER: THOUGH IT ALL!!! There will always be a SOLUTION!!! When Your NERVES are on the EDGE, and YOU'RE COMPLETELY LOOSING CONTROL, Your MIND is GOING SIDEWAYS, As if you have NO PLACE ELSE TO GO, When your NERVES are GETTING THE BEST of YOU, and THOUGHTS are going TO and FRO. Just TAKE in a FEW DEEP BREATHS L, A give a STERN GLANCE, LET GO of your FRUSTRATIONS and Here comes your BIG CHANCE, To LET GO OF the NERVES and the TENSION, For, this FEELING IT WILL NOT LAST, IT WILL SUBSIDE and then GO AWAY, and Your ANXIETY will be in the PAST!!!! B.R. Date:  10/31/2024
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Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 10:19 PM UTC
On Pins and Needles
Jubal Cain trained his children, his brother, Tubal, trained his, as well. When stories grow in prehistorical shade, all letters symbol references locked away, when the little people in blue Phrygian caps, acknowledge the big strong wombed Liberties, wearing with honor the red Phrygian caps. Freedom from all forms of mental tyranny, snaps medically induced connection across synaptic gaps. Who, who? We heard it, on the radio. Life in my time has been totally unique, in time as a whole, scientifically, we, even we two, just me and you, agreeing, as touching, any thing, a thought, a thing? being used to make you think, once more what if, we do, and never tell?   what if this is telling? what if we knew?
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Jul 18, 2024
Jul 18, 2024 at 5:54 PM UTC
Mythed aims rethunk
Fiat money loses value over time People know this and this influences Their thinking towards the short term. Short term thinking bleeds into many Areas of life leading to inferiority in so Many areas of our life and our world Therefore We need a money that increases in Value leading to long term planning And greater VISION in goals, family, Business, architecture, and nutrition. Imagine nations and people planning For generations. Bitcoin gives vision
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Mar 14, 2024
Mar 14, 2024 at 1:45 PM UTC
Vision - Bitcoin Poem 090 (Problems/Solutions 22)
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 Therefore 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
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Feb 6, 2024
Feb 6, 2024 at 11:35 AM UTC
Big Government (Bitcoin Poem 085) Problems and Solutions Series 20
The fractional reserve banking system Is built on an unstable foundation where Not all depositors can access money freely. Since banks can lend more than they have This regularly leads to credit & asset bubbles And then business failures during downturns Therefore Let’s move to a more stable system where There is no central authority which people Need to trust with their deposits, an open And accurate ledger where everyone can Simply verify that their money is secure With Bitcoin this technology is available
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Apr 14, 2023
Apr 14, 2023 at 11:19 AM UTC
Stability (Bitcoin Poem 048) Problems and Solutions 12
Weft and warp started January 22nd, 2021 The cloth is woven weft and warp twigs and twine bits and pieces gaps and flaws make the fabric of my life. I try to worry out the threads that I know aren't right the flaws that threaten collapse yet have become integral parts of the weft and warp that is me. I smooth this cloth with my worn hands then fold it up and put it away to work on another day.
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Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 10:07 AM UTC
Weft and warp
when you blot out the problem you can also blot out the solution.
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Sep 5, 2020
Sep 5, 2020 at 6:36 AM UTC
haiku 106
The only way out of a problem energy be to activate the solution energy not to be digging into more of the problem energy
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Jun 24, 2020
Jun 24, 2020 at 12:00 PM UTC
The Dig
I know you’ll just be okay When you work Till your whole being shivers With exhaustion And your eyes cloud With salty perspiration And you push yourself Into that one last lap And keep pushing for another- And yet another. I know you won’t fall; That much faith is essential. And, wherever you trip, You don’t tread on again. With all those lessons You’ve learned on your way, You know you’ll just be okay.
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May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 7:26 AM UTC
Mountains to climb.
When digging for answers I found a new level Kept shovelling deeper Ran in to the devil He offered protection He baited with vice Through his ringmaster's grin Promised Paradise Politely, I declined In peace, took my leave He tracked me and traced me Devoid of reprieve His net cast so broadly An erroneous shove What he didn't see coming Incalculable love
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May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 5:54 PM UTC
Digging Down Under
Wealthy people have a knack Of making contributions They don’t let trials get them down But focus on solutions So don’t let anger conquer you Or seek out retribution But seek to take the higher road And offer a solution Of several ways to undertake A problem’s diminution The best by far is simply choose A mindset of solution So cultivate this daily choice There are no substitutions To making it your daily goal To seek out good solutions
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Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 8:54 AM UTC
Solutions (Prosperity Poem 67)
Up with the sun, his mind razor-keen, he hikes up his trousers and starts his machine. Though barrels of funk feed their reek to the dawn, he pays them no heed; the trashman rolls on. Up alleys, down thruways, past storefronts and stands, he guides his behemoth with rock-steady hands. Though big rigs and small fry speed hither and yon, he sticks to his creed; the trashman rolls on. Down **** to Impostor, past each stinking bin, he makes for the junkies and merchants of sin. Though winos raise eyelids, though punks point and grin, he straightens his shoulders and thrusts forth his chin. ********* and derelicts lurch from their sties. Pimps and their harlots flash Jacksons and strut. “Hey, you in the truck,” a pickpocket cries, “What are you, buddy, some kinda nut?” With hands on the levers, and brightly lit eyes, The big driver leans out and coolly replies: “No, sir. I’m the trashman.” And down comes the fork, and up goes the muck. The gears maul the lowlifes, the fork rocks the truck. Though hollers and screams shake his steel mastodon, he longs to proceed; the trashman rolls on. The truck passes perverts, creeps churned in its bile, up Felon to Pusher, down Vicious to Vile, where block upon block, where mile upon mile, the hookers regale him with smile upon smile. Near-naked floozies exhibit their wares. But this man just glares while they trumpet in pique. “Hey, you in the truck,” a drunk strumpet cries, “What are you, mister, some kinda freak?” His hands on the levers, with brightly lit eyes, the big driver leans out and gently replies: “No, ma’am. I’m the trashman.” And down comes the fork, and up goes the slime. The gears maul the contents to streetwalker chyme. Though hollers and screams are distressing and drawn, his heart fails to bleed; the trashman rolls on. Pining for virtue, he clatters along, up Bully to Bigot, down Trollop to Spawn, past Conman and Cutthroat to Thirteenth and Greed. He steadies, caresses, and readies his steed. Virtue, indeed. The trashman rolls on. Okay. NOW CUT AND PASTE THE LINK BELOW TO READ HERO, A SPRAWLING, GROUNDBREAKING FANTASY FOR GROWNUPS IN TWO PARTS. (BUT YOU MUST CLICK ON THE PROVIDED LINK AT THE CONCLUSION OF PART ONE TO ACCESS PART TWO! THAT’S WHERE THIS TALE’S AMAZING RESOLUTION LIES. But please...intelligent, soulful readers only!) NOW HERE’S THAT LINK: https://allpoetry.com/poem/14922744-Hero---Part-One-by-Ron-Sanders Copyright 2020 by Ron Sanders. contact: [email protected]
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Feb 19, 2020
Feb 19, 2020 at 3:05 PM UTC
The Trashman
Up with the sun, his mind razor-keen, he hikes up his trousers and starts his machine. Though barrels of funk feed their reek to the dawn, he pays them no heed; the trashman rolls on. Up alleys, down thruways, past storefronts and stands, he guides his behemoth with rock-steady hands. Though big rigs and small fry speed hither and yon, he sticks to his creed; the trashman rolls on. Down **** to Impostor, past each stinking bin, he makes for the junkies and merchants of sin. Though winos raise eyelids, though punks point and grin, he straightens his shoulders and thrusts forth his chin. ********* and derelicts lurch from their sties. Pimps and their harlots flash Jacksons and strut. “Hey, you in the truck,” a pickpocket cries, “What are you, buddy, some kinda nut?” With hands on the levers, and brightly lit eyes, The big driver leans out and coolly replies: “No, sir. I’m the trashman.” And down comes the fork, and up goes the muck. The gears maul the lowlifes, the fork rocks the truck. Though hollers and screams shake his steel mastodon, he longs to proceed; the trashman rolls on. The truck passes perverts, creeps churned in its bile, up Felon to Pusher, down Vicious to Vile, where block upon block, where mile upon mile, the hookers regale him with smile upon smile. Near-naked floozies exhibit their wares. But this man just glares while they trumpet in pique. “Hey, you in the truck,” a drunk strumpet cries, “What are you, mister, some kinda freak?” His hands on the levers, with brightly lit eyes, the big driver leans out and gently replies: “No, ma’am. I’m the trashman.” And down comes the fork, and up goes the slime. The gears maul the contents to streetwalker chyme. Though hollers and screams are distressing and drawn, his heart fails to bleed; the trashman rolls on. Pining for virtue, he clatters along, up Bully to Bigot, down Trollop to Spawn, past Conman and Cutthroat to Thirteenth and Greed. He steadies, caresses, and readies his steed. Virtue, indeed. The trashman rolls on. Okay. NOW CUT AND PASTE THE LINK BELOW TO READ HERO, A SPRAWLING, GROUNDBREAKING FANTASY FOR GROWNUPS IN TWO PARTS. (BUT YOU MUST CLICK ON THE PROVIDED LINK AT THE CONCLUSION OF PART ONE TO ACCESS PART TWO! THAT’S WHERE THIS TALE’S AMAZING RESOLUTION LIES. But please...intelligent, soulful readers only!) NOW HERE’S THAT LINK: https://allpoetry.com/poem/14922744-Hero---Part-One-by-Ron-Sanders Copyright 2020 by Ron Sanders. contact: [email protected]
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49
I feel alone I feel desperate I feel destructive 20mg hydroxyzine later I feel tired I feel calm I feel drugged I don’t want to be like this Seeking relief every waking moment Begging for the pain to cease Pull solutions out of a hat _ take pills                                           ********** drink                                   scream                                                   slice your wrist a few more pills                                         bother your friends sleep it off                                                                    cry                          write plan your death                                                                     try to ignore it _ And know That though this mood will pass The illness never will It will always stalk me It will always come to torture me It will always be waiting To destroy me
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Jan 6, 2020
Jan 6, 2020 at 11:34 PM UTC
Temporary Fix
I started this because No one else would And I told anyone who asked That if they wanted to be in charge they could. I took charge because It was the right thing to do But if you wanted to do it I would’ve let you. I'm not in charge of directing Or picking out the cast And if you wanted me to have less power Then you could have just asked. I'm only gathering names. And making sure we’ve got a script. I'm not judging the talent That's someone else’s pick. You could have spoken to me Instead of some random prefect Words hidden behind your hands Like I'm some ***** secret. Would you rather it was a mess Of crumbled papers on the floor With sean yelling st us And Ms carvill wanting more. Would you rather we did nothing Had no play at all? But would you stand that judgement? Would you take the fall? What is it you actually want? I hope I find out later Cause I'll put it in the play for you Signed- Your loyal dictator.
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Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 7:25 PM UTC
Dear Darling Subject
Give a man some straw to build a bridge, and he will find a way to mend brittleness for his Family to cross. But give a man cement and the foundation will be lazy
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Dec 18, 2019
Dec 18, 2019 at 10:36 AM UTC
Straw Bridge
There is the ancient story of a shepherd boy whose king outfitted him with armor to ready him for the challenges of the day and the boy could not walk so he threw off the armor picked up his sling and tended his father’s flock with peace and joy freely erupting in song. My armor is not wealth or wit I cannot make myself fit into the current conventions and hype trying to conform to the normal type stops up the energies that yearn to flow freely and gleefully and urge me to go to the dawn, darkness, clouds and sun to wrap myself in words that run like sparkling streams and windswept dreams. Poetry is my armor for each day where worries and problem allay where I search my feelings and mind for the word elixir loosening knots that bind. This armor does not weigh me down but frees me to my triggering town where I find and create the poet me and the landscape of my soul’s poetry.
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Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 8:45 AM UTC
Poetry is my armor