"billionaire" poems
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor.
Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower.
Little bit sweet, and little bit sour,
Sometimes it’s hot but not too more….
Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric.
Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy
And any one you ask he always say “M busy”
Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy
There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska
Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska
From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns,
From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels
From telephone rings and doorbell brings.
There are people connecting through Blackberry pings
Where there’s little time to spare for kids
People here spend their lives on bids
Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter
But milkman mixing water is not a cheater!
Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat
Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art
From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart
Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart
Where local trains usually run on time
And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime
Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine
People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine”
From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town
And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown
Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea
But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee.
Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali
Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali
Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful
Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful
Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city
Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty.
Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty
Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
They say in this world that everyone starts with nothing, that everyone has the opportunity to climb to the top with a cup of effort and just a sprinkle of integrity, that everyone is born equal, and that everyone succeeds.
They are lying, if not to you, then to themselves.
Fact is that inheritance will always be present in this world; parents will always die and pass on their wealth to their children.
Whether we are aware of this or chose to acknowledge its existence is independent and non-influential to this fact.
A lying billionaire may have one daughter and she may never have to genuinely work a day in her life, while an honest but unlucky displaced man may have one son and be unable to give him but a pair of shoes to place over his soft feet.
We are unable to alter this occurrence, for it is natural to wish for one’s own legacy to continue not only in genes, but in wealth, fame, and power, but it is crucial to acknowledge the differences of the lives into which we are born.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
an average human creature should such a mythical exist
in a lifetime will celebrate about 2,200,000,000 heartbeats,
billions of heartbeats per minute (I prefer moment)
but like everything so essence human there are
those very few heartbeat moments,
the ten or twenty maybe forty total in a lifetime
that you total truly remember,
recalling the cream and sauce,
swell and the hell,
of the pounding so slow so hard,
each one a volcano of
a moment until that day
you don't remember-anything
when she said yes and you're shaking and beating in a
honky-tonk rhythm cause you were heart undressed unsure
and truly afraid of a rejection that makes a heart stoppage
disallowing visions, to be exponentially happy future imagined
you're feeling your heartbeat
in your knees going weak,
when the doctor says:
congratulations healthy swell
and/or
some years later,
I'm so so truly sorry, hell
when they hand you a long handle shovel no instructions needed and that scoop of earth weighs two tons and the sound of slow reverb in your head hurts like hell and you lack the strength to move and they move you aside quiet gentle like
but inside the temple of the two headed hydra-heart,
it's the rock and roll of slo mo, the violin crying, the drumming of
heavy metal chords plucked so slowly, it's you froze screaming
a billionaire of heartbeats you are,
but only ten or twenty maybe forty total in a lifetime
you total truly remember with the perfect clarity and
forever renders into your own unique orchestral symphony,
your true net worth, the stripes you wear
upon your shoulders skin,
the tune when you hear it and melts you into rigidity
you fall to your knees wherever you are,
that is where you will find me,
just listen for the cars horns blaring
cursing the man lying in the street, re-listening to
ten or twenty maybe forty heartbeats total in a lifetime
you alone total truly that concert set recall and
the win-loss record inherent, inhiment,
in both of them, tears and the rents, all there in the tunes,
of forty beatings you took,
somehow it feels like here is, there was,
the answers to
where is shelter for the heart,
the answers that have gone and come and gone and someone says,
I don't feel a pulse
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
"CHOSEN AND HEAVENLY ELECTED"
Colorful balloons, chilly sunny sphere. Princess lady Temi Otedola rebirth, ➕ 1⃣ today. She made it through the womb to a billionaire life. Chosen and heavenly elected. Happy Birthday Teddy mama, here are mine wishes to you. A salubrious happy filled life of peace. Happy Birthday mama Teddies.
#c9_fm
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 6:31 PM UTC
March in the streets
But I urge you beware
They’ll still butcher the sheep
With the arms that they bear
Private properteers part with
No slave cropper’s share
So this Northern aggression's
Like Freeman’s red scare
All the colors of wind
Through the head-shavers’ hair
The Guevara adventures
These pigs wouldn’t D.A.R.E.
The Arabian knights
In the grand wizard’s lair
The denaturalized dreamer’s
Recurring nightmare
Of the Stalingrad ghost
Still witch-hunting like Blair
The projects to the precincts’
New modern welfare
The post-trauma disorderly’s
Empty screen stare
The savages they thought
Were waaaaayyyy over there
The debt clock ticky tock
In the heart of Times Square
The 1st world problem-children
Who commonwealth care
Because some barely EAT
And we’ve so much to spare
But these cowherds still like their calves
Medium rare
And the bulls try to sell you
Their laissez-faire snare
Till your trapped in a minimum cage’s
Last prayer
And the only escape
Is upgraded software
Like automaton autobahn’s
In disrepair
In this fascist facade’s
Fragrant breath of fresh air
Just as toxic as stocks
Of the mock billionaire
So I shock ‘em like Tesla’s
Bolt-action Voltaire
And I leave it to you
To go **** it out there
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 6:27 AM UTC
Protest it.
Unless you employed by the government.
Rules are totally different.
If officers violate the laws they serving to protect us.
Stand up for your rights to protest.
We in America not one of that dictatorship country.
Why?
Do people feel athletes can't protest?
They go on strike for various things not right to them.
Not one stated the protesting the anthem.
Not one.
They protesting injustice.
And rightly so.
So fans are mad than many probably never saw the youth that protested in the sixties against a war.
Whether you agree or don't.
Always stand up for your rights.
So a so-called billionaire never paid taxes and won't reveal his income tax forms using idle threats.
The only one filling the role of kiss-up is the owners.
Without comprehending, if there is a sporting showdown the most likely won't win.
Most likely to be the losers when Coke, Pepsi, Nike, Papa John and host of others clients profits fall.
A business suffers highly when there no solution solved.
Most fans that go to a sporting event are a great majority of whites and be the ones crying the louder.
If ever done wrong and need attention to get people on board.
You protest, you stand up and stand out.
A small church pastor rose to be great by taking on a segregated system.
The only one mad about tearing segregation is who?
The race need not be mention for a majority hardly stand up for anything.
Well, unless it's the NRA.
Even with violence in school from high powered weapons.
There they go defending the NRA.
And the weapons they protesting against isn't truly needed unless you at war.
But they standing up for their rights.
So players, stand up for your rights.
For CBS/ESPN/ABC/NBC stands to lose too.
If a majority of players stand strong against wrong.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
Oh Eliot, Poor Eliot, Your Fans Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' So Sad^
<>
we tithed thee with donations plenty,
here a dollar, there a fiver, a coupon for free chips,
worthy of somebody’s eternal gratitude,
that would be you,
da Duke, Duke of York
the largest online free poetry site,
a million visitors a day, why you must be
the richest poet online billionaire, right?
you,
da Duke, Duke of York and
occasional poet...
in return, all we occasional poets demand
steady on instant access, immediate satisfaction,
after all, a part time job deserves your bestus-best,
just like every other large online site, that never crashes,
we’re not like just the rest, we are
p o e t s,
occasionally
so keep the servers engines, well stoked with Newcastle coal,
keep them up and running round the clock,
using only alternative energy,
of the unceasing sun light of merry old England!
quit that other job, you must,
instead of giving up on us,
give in to us,
a poetry break, a writing recharge,
though please add a limited liability
clause to the FAQ’s,
that poets’ lives must deal with the hiccup
occasional
you, da Duke, Duke of York,
newly now, an appointment royale as Major General,^^
you, the very model of a modern major general
possessing information vegetable, animal, mineral and
technical,
who knows the Queens of England, who,
maybe even now is telling tales of your heroics with the hordes of
hysterical
occasional
poetical
globalists
demanding
light brigadests
charging the redoubt
and
when you have a moment spare,
a haircut, please.
no, that is not a request,
naturally
<>
10/19/19
Noontime NYC
natalino
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
i given nothing
i abandoned
i adopted
i dropout
i garage
i Apple
i NeXT
i Pixar
i Apple
i pilfered i
i invented i
i produced i
i market i
i retail i
i am i
i am
i
i tech beauty
i consumer fetish
i whom you love
i sleekest widgets
i Toy Story
i Macintosh
i macbook
i Lisa
iTunes
iPod
iPhone
iPad
i more
i rebel
i genius
i visionary
i entrepreneur
i world changer
i exceptionalism
i capital market hero
i bigger then business
i cool capitalism
i myth
i "the man"
i worker
i employer
i boss
i thief
i savior
i billionaire
i venerated
i vanity
i Buddhist
i prophet
i redeemed
i 1 in 300 million
i America
i sing the pathos
i am the creed
i define the ethos
i Steve Jobs
i amassed riches
i accolade crowned
i ingratiate world
i virtue
i success
i creativity
i favored
i Midas
i bedeviled
i tested
i afflicted
i retire
i human
i mortal
i succumb
i eulogized
i leave legacy of i
i am an MBA case study
i employed workers
i peddled intrepid product cycles
i subject of amusing anecdotes
i am heroic corporate folklore
i grew pods full of music
i incite kids to thumb phones
i captivate consumer imagination
i built rock solid balance sheet
i erected toxic Chinese factories
i enriched investors
i am the cool corporate brand
i inspired a million unused i apps
i hipster capitalism
i imposed my will
i insisted
i am that i am
i cannot take it with me
i leave blue jeans
i leave NB sneakers
i leave black collarless shirt
i will be asked what
i did with the time
i was given?
i did the best i could
i played the hand dealt
i parlayed it into a royal flush
i filled it up with i
i ask why
i am no more?
i leave the world
i am no more
Godspeed Beloved
Steven Paul "Steve" Jobs
(February 24, 1955 – October 5, 2011)
jbm
Oakland
10/6/11
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 10:40 PM UTC
First things first I gotta paved the hearse
I'm digging an early grave hopin' my soul be saved
Father tell.me why? You forbid us no one to trust
Real friends turn to bustas jealousy keeps me strapped with my four five its only way to survive
Will.I stay alive?? And make Heaven or stay in Hell
Resurrected in Satan's cell tell me am.I wrong
For hangin' with homies on the block
Drinkin' Old E to Hennessey slangin' that rocks
Stashin' loot in my socks
I had no choice to options minimal what else can I do?
Since the system is crooked I'm.crooked black
Why every crime is related to Blacks
When the biggest culprit is America I'm tellin' ya
Stay loadin' the magnums put in the air self made billionaire we ballin' climbed our way to top no fallin',
Its survival of the fittest from city to city
**** nation touchin' the hearts of newborn
Leavin' wicked souls torn I was born
For this ludicrous I'm crazy the world don't phase me
I'm trying to stack gs and grow my imagery
In a major way **** what a hater gotta say
I'm feelin' like Marley blazin' the blunts gettin' deadly
Aim my trigger steady
Crack open hearts of the Capitol hill Romanian Babylon you know the deal??
So many buried without tears so many livin' in fear
I'm.coming back harder than Malcolm X **** stardom
And if I die tonight no one will give a ****
Until they cremate me throw my ashes in the sea
Publish me and make a buck muthaphuck
My enemies that try to keep grips on me
I'm worm my free the Prince is back strategize my every move
No rules to follow just more slugs to borrow
Killin' the systems as moves I got **** to prove
Settin' all.my demons trapped in me free
Can't help it its the **** n Me
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
I bathed in a billionaire's bath
And the bubbles were soft as currency.
Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 9:47 AM UTC
the middle commonplace
poor dears
weak of voice
making minimum wage
for all the
billionaire
investors making up Wall street
holding in servitude
the poor dude
trying to pay his
child support
with no health care
when he gave
his sanity in Iraq.
or the single mother
sharing with the desolate faces
the disgrace of
going to the food bank:
the land of the free
home of the brave
has turned into the home of the rich:
oligarchy entrenches,
that is why
i gave up
a long time ago.
I looked back,
once there was a middle
class.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC
Barrels of oil painted smooth in acryllic
fill up the cracks with a feeling
spit out the money to feed the machine
Fair if it's toiling kids
draped along spoiled villians
immersed to serve the version of a billionaire's dream
eat the rich
Try me after I've been taught
I could've bought my chain
I would've lost my name
I should've dropped my shame facade
to play the game
We grew the youthful breath of heaven from the clay beneath our bones
imbued and innervated
aided you and drew the oath to play within the zone
circle reverie treasury burdens
bury the feathery,
herding squarely to fame - put on a show
eat the rich
dare me
you and yours invaded
bated breath had sung belated effort, whistle "death has reared it's head
at our expense so grab a sword.
We can war this **** straight out of this ole ditch
and fix whatever ***** gone wrong with it
with grit and sense
and build a fence"
Forget the soil your roots are grown in,
if you want to.
bask in shadow
of the weight of trust and decency
impeding our advances to your winner's table
fabled robin hoods with internets
guess who's deft enough let you know through every filter
left for us we may upset your dinner guests
let em know what's on the menu
eat the rich
let em know
The irony in learning
how to burn the fuel that kills you
after all the warning signs were there
sound familiar? it's a slog
burnin up, they'll crawl around
and find a meal on common ground
try the light show one more time
maybe that'll work
"The serfs are like a herd you see
they can't be riled along without a sermon
Burden them with silks and styles
worry them toward money piles"
Remind them of the fire they've been turning
Analogies aside I must abide by me and mine
but I've still got my eye on anything
...concerning
eat the rich
with discretion I guess.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 7:35 AM UTC
“you should watch for what’s good and say so, watch for what’s bad and say that,
and be afraid of neither observation.
If you lose your temper, lose it; if you find yourself unexpectedly moved, admit it.
Keep your tools, compass and gyroscope,
clean, dry and level.”
Peggy Noonan,
columnist, author
<•>
good
Christmas Eve advice
getting harder to find,
wheat from chaff, and all that,
what’s sensible,
what’s defensible,
and what actually feels
A~ok!
as in
perhaps, it actually could be,
pause to think,
correct?
and:or:heck,
even right
so if you read the above ,
take it from a couple of senior geezers,
you just got a holiday freebie!
yeah, yeah, keep your powder dry,
just ain’t the same, sorry…
we talking tools and fools here,
them that keep you
on a course
of your owned free choice,
with an assist,
to know your position & to
never to lose your balance
when everybody is
instantly
telling you what to think,
take that long pause,
use your tools,
to pick the problem up,
Rubik’s cube it,
twist and shout,
when the
solution emerges
‘tis the season for
preaching and overreaching,
but use this quietime pause,
look internal,
and keep your instinct and
inside tools oiled,
and mind open, clarified
wish you then, clear eyes, open ears & love;
wisdom, that’s up to you,
but, you’re a billionaire for sure,
use the grey cells you were given
thoughtfully & well,
and keep on looking for
‘what’s a good way,’
which is always an
everlasting work
nat lipstadt
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 11:24 AM UTC
Every day I got a new set of problems
Can't figure out just how to solve em
Each day I find new ways to dodge em
But they keep coming back
Full circle revolver
What's a dollar to a billionaire
Spend all there money on diamonds without a care
Yet none of them seem to be happy
Rolling in cash yet smiling so sadly
Here I am waiting from cent to cent
Trying to afford food gas and rent
But at the end of the day
I can rest easy
Satisfied
Indefinitely ok
Is it the same for you mr. Billionaire?
With your fancy car ladies parties
In the designer clothes you wear
But what I see
All around me
Is beauty in simplicity
Beauty in the struggle
The empty pocket pit
Living off that next pack of Ramon noodles
Pressing on
Never settling
Knowing that your day will come
Because happiness isn't about the things you acquire
It's about the love you spread
The good you transpire
the universe returns to you
Threefold to fulfill selfless desires
Sometimes in wealth
Sometimes in power
You lose yourself
Forget To stop and smell the flowers
But I'll hold my head high
Through the hard times
Wait for the good
Gaze at the stars
And feed my head
With all that's left
The beauty in everything
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
Mr. Zuckerberg
just another billionaire,
making moola off of us
giving us something free
in return for our email address
so he can sell us stuff and
direct out attention where he wants it
and think we too stoopid to know it
u feeling a flu of guilty
for we, the the ordinary people,
we, the excess humans of the world,
who scrape by day to day,
who don't have a measly million
not even a stinking billion to spare,
should be given a
guaranteed income by,
courtesy of,
mmm
myself, my taxes own?
dude, that is
called
how can you lose when you play with yourself?
which had a fancy name, can't recall tight now
cause I'm worrying about my next paycheck
which is less than half from FICA, and other initials
I don't understand
but gotta go Z,
time got a get on a toad road trip to get in touch
with the common peeps,
we, the excess,
so glad u taking a
p a s s i n g interest in
we, the excess
POD's
(pieces of data)
and if u need a buck,
or have a few to share,
I'll be in touch shortly
after I get fired,
meantime
check this vacation spot out,
Houston
so popular
even u may have trouble
getting a hotel room,
*******
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 2:02 AM UTC
My head feels like a visit to the cranioscopist’s,
Like someone bored through it with a drill.
Inflamed and ill,
Like the ego of a billionaire philanthropist.
Flashbacks of “You”,
Got me off my tracks and feeling blue,
Stumbling around in pain, without a ******* clue.
My neck is aching,
My body is shaking,
My ******* soul feels like it’s breaking.
Volcanic unrest, putting my heart to the test,
Got manic anger strapped to my chest like a suicide vest.
I’m the spectre of truth, a hard hitter,
Like that last, smooth drink that fails your liver.
A lone wolf whose claws are made of words,
A man grown bitter and whose heart hurts.
My legs feel heavy and tired –
Is it now accepted to not have energy to even exist?
For that certainly isn’t how we’re naturally hard-wired.
I don’t know how to accept the illusion,
There seems to be no solution –
I look desperately, amidst the confusion.
I look for similarly empty eyes,
For those who do see the lies.
The only truth left is this;
He who murders lives, and he who loves dies.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 1:38 PM UTC
Maybe, instead of walls,
I should build a museum around my heart.
Maybe they’d rather respect the velvet rope
that separates them and the artwork.
Maybe if it was inside a museum,
it would be left alone
by those who don’t see its worth.
If people actually saw how precious it was,
they’d choose to stare at it in awe,
than dare to reach for it,
knowing that careless moves
lead to expensive consequences.
Maybe if it was inside a museum,
only those who truly wanted to,
only those with the soul to seek for something more
would line up to see it up close.
Because it’s true.
My heart is nothing short of a masterpiece.
Like a sculpture fashioned to look like silk
when it is built in stone.
Like a mosaic made with pieces of itself,
rearranged to create an image of hope
each time it gets broken.
My heart keeps record of histories
of pain and despair
of love and strength.
I cannot let it hang on the walls of some ignorant billionaire,
can’t let it be taken for granted again.
So, I will build a museum around my heart.
And unless you do not realize what it is worth,
please don’t touch the artwork.
Sep 26, 2023
Sep 26, 2023 at 1:20 AM UTC
I focus on my bank account
and not feeling alone.
The man in 1080p repeats,
'Where has my America gone?'
Fifty or sixty, and billionaire rich --
I guess I'm his working class *****
Voting on how to
delude myself best;
I am part of a
dollar bill nest,
where I get to see
but don't get to touch,
where I get to give
but don't get too much.
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
Billionaire: I were
been Corollary,
at the party,
and petition,
where populism,
there is no discussion,
and abolished
and the average,
the epicurean scenes,
beloved my testamentary,
and I partisan,
and raw balance of my profits,
and my diploma,
my university triumphs,
I am the planetary star,
skin and clothing
protozoan,
Legionnaire
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
You owe me nothing but to breathe.
To remember how I tore my heart in
Two rendering a
Blood Eagle to stretch its wings and
Tickle our souls with its sticky feathers.
When I think of us, I see us as we were.
Other people than now.
Memories framing themselves like a
Fantastic painting the artist
Stepped back to admire, then died.
*Hang me. Hang me before i hang
Myself.*
Dramatically opposed to drama.
Uninterested infatuation.
Broke billionaire.
Mortal gods shaking divine hands
With decomposing composers,
Thanking them for the silence.
We were lovers and enemies, and
I'd still give my life and afterlife to
See you worship another as if I
Never left a fingerprint on this
Planet; resting as safely in arms that
Love you unendingly,
As we all lie sleeping; dreaming
In our own, stronger arms,
Forgetting that even our loving
Is imaginary.
Death is awakening.
Rubbing the
Eyes of our souls and yawning,
We look up and smile at that which
All of this is a bleak and fleeting
Shadow of.
Plato knew.
When I wish to die, I do too.
This love is not Love.
It's all mud and air.
You owe me nothing but to breathe.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
you're the boxspring billionaire of feel-good
saving up your love for a rainy year,
scrounging and saving every fleeting smile and shallow kiss and
miserly, hunched over with the weight of your own suffering and despair,
each scrapped-together pile of crumpled-from-your-pockets shreds of I.O.U.s and featherlight touches.
too afraid to leap and risk, you'll never grow or invest your affections into the stocks of Lisa and George LLC, or Francis and Kelly Inc.
so your love is bound to crumble into fragile dust, the fruits of your labours withering into mouldy piles of seed, stem, and flesh.
the could-have-been and might-have-grown dying, before even living to flourish and erupt into glorious blooms of the strikingly ethereal and otherworldy.
but not for you, not ever for you.
you're the boxspring billionaire of feel-good
and you'll burn before planting your love.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
Designer clothes, glittering cars,
A million buck fragrance,
Costly drink at the bars,
Flying in chartered planes,
Your so called stars ,
Celebs at the parties,
Smoking cigars .
Oh, you like calling it high society ?
Then please do, mister,
I can take facts with ease.
I've been a slave to it, since so long,
I know how ******* high it is.
Effin brats of billionaire dads,
Acting cool with pricey ****
******* roaming in alluring rags,
All slaves like me, of tempting fads.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 11:37 AM UTC
On the News today, it has been reported, about tornadoes in several States. Why would you get out the car, to take a picture of the storm that's right on you, what a "Dumb Mistake"?
Now concerning Donald Sterling, I hate to say it, but he is a Billionaire fool. Does he realize he could endanger his life, with the comments he has used?
When the captain jumped off the ship, leaving the children behind, do you feel your life is better, not paying the children any mind?
The Prime Minister of Malaysia, did not care about the families who were left behind. He was so eager to get everything over with, by texting them, causing them, to almost lose their mind.
A life is a precious thing, before the eyes of the Lord. It is important that a life is saved, so get on one accord.
By, Sandra Juanita Nailing
By, Sandra Juanita Nailing
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC