"billionaires" poems
I'm underpaid.
If it takes me an hour's pay
To buy my lunch
I have a hunch
I'm underpaid.
Because I'm paid the
Minimum wage.
Why this isn't a cause of rage
Among politicians that their citizens
Are underpaid
On minimum wage
I'm afraid I can't say.
I can't rent my own place,
A problem I can easily trace
Back to my low pay
On the minimum wage.
I hope this is a stage
Because I honearly can't say
How I'd survive if I stay
Underpaid
On minimum wage.
While I can't pay my bills
Billionaires fly around country for thrills
Tax breaks, relax mate,
It's better than giving them to
The underpaid
On minimum wage.
To be able to pay the price
Of things I need would be nice,
But there's no room to play
Living day by day
Underpaid
On minimum wage.
My wages are a joke,
No way I can't be broke
Living this way.
I'd just like higher pay
For minimum wage.
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 7:30 PM UTC
You!
You are imperfect!
(surprise)
You you you and you.
Every single one of you cheerleaders.
Every princess and every nerd.
All the little muscles and big muscles.
The mothers and fathers and lovers and celebrities and billionaires and actresses and models, too!
Every single human on this earth is imperfect.
But guess what?!
That's what makes us, us.
You. Me.
All of us together in one jumbo mess of oceans and ethnicities. It's beautiful and ugly and difficult and spectacular all in one breath.
So stop hating your imperfections and your "almost there" 's. We have them for a reason.
Flaunt that imperfection, babe.
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
Only ONE RACE
the HUMAN RACE.
The dividers
and conquerors
all trying to convince you
otherwise.
And they are
NEVER
on the frontlines.
They
manipulate
you
stirring up
emotions
hatred.
That people should die
for the mistakes
of the few.
God hates those who stir up strife.
The only
so-called
winners
are the manipulators
the millionaires and billionaires...
those who orchestrate
the mess
who PAY people
TO HATE...
turning them into mercenaries
MERCENARY
HATERS
AND
MURDERERS
and NOT for the reasons
they think.
The ORCHESTRATORS
don't care
ONE WHIT
about the cause
ONLY
about the
POWER and CONTROL
they
HOPE TO GAIN
when they
"HAVE TO"
quell the mess
and put out the fires
Which
THEY CREATED
by
THEIR MANIPULATIONS.
BEWARE
how people
try to use your emotions
for
THEIR GREEDY GAIN
TO CONTROL
YOU.
WE ARE ALL
ONE
RACE
THE HUMAN RACE.
Reach out
try to
LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR
YOUR BLOOD IS ALL THE SAME!
WOUNDED
ONE
DROP OF BLOOD
IT'S
ALL THE SAME.
cj 2016
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC
Spider-man and X-Men.
The complex characters that we see.
Saving their worlds from minor disasters.
Oh the joys of being free.
Trapped by the needs of others so needy.
And the praise they get in return?
A pat on the back or a slap in the face.
The death of the hero, simply begins to burn.
Batman and Ironman.
The billionaires beyond belief.
High class minds disguised in smart business suits.
Living their egos, their dreams, while hiding their grief.
People know there names by heart.
Knowing if in danger, they will come and save their life.
But simple as it sounds, we can never know the heroes path
One only goal they seem to want; ends in ****** strife.
The Flash and Green Lantern.
All our heroes come in different light.
Costume to powers and histories to pasts.
They soon end up consumed by endless fight.
Media creates the false hopes for people everywhere.
Chaos never-ending; the pain never seeming to cease.
Yet we're all struck with the tiniest of hope.
Uniting as one, we form our own release.
Captain America and Superman too.
Every hero has one thing they can share forever.
Its not so complex that people will never know, nor is a mystery of life.
Its simply, no matter who you are, you are a hero, holding people together.
Feb 19, 2010
Feb 19, 2010 at 9:04 AM UTC
*Deadly deluded deceitful demon's of: inter-racial racism; murderous religiosity; frightful jealous hackings; tribally usurping genocides; atrocious political strength-of-arms; invading ferocity; selfish presidential reasoning;
Springs cut Irises -
dripping vital red not purple,
far from my window;
self-effacing prime ministerial decrees of war; sanctioned moves by greedy banker pawns; designer labelled terrorism; War, a game now called 'Texas Billionaires Commodity'; a countries paid survival; seeded maniacal jealousy; globalisation's murdering grandiose; grandiloquent made walking bombaster(s) ; revenger mob leaders; our taxed Fools World !?
Globalisation - orchestrated profiteers, betting our losses*
May 21, 2010
May 21, 2010 at 11:16 PM UTC
Access to excess
holds you tight
in its vice.
It starts off
it always feels so right
filled with promise and abundance
walking into that casino
loaded with cash
scoring the bag at Christine's
weekly motel
one more dab will do you.
She knocks on your door
and only wants you
the night is filled with promises too.
Is this any different
then gluttonous
billionaires hoarding what they can
it's never enough
while the rest of us drown.
The waiting, waiting, waiting
for it to come through
there's that too.
Access to excess
has this advice:
"I'll deal with it later"
and
"One more time. "
Drip, drip, drip
blood
triggered rush
images and cravings
euphoric memories
kaleidoscope
in
one body rush
after another
until there is no more living
in
your own skin.
Rubbing your self raw
to get back to that moment
when you first walked in
when abundance
was real
and
access to excess
was all you could feel.
What a moment of exhilaration.
Of course there are these bonuses too
ending up
with total deprivation
"incomprehensible
demoralization"
Locked in a porta-potty
with a guy and a pipe
out of money
out of time
out of consciousness
Access to excess
what are we gonna do
now.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
The Rent-a-Mob loonies, the gangsters and the Racists
damaged scums of society and contemporary politics
Ignorant arrogant sociopaths who want it all for nothing
Indulgent wasters in nation awashed with opportunities
In idle union they scream, feed us poor and **** the Rich
Strangers come Poland, Bulgaria, India and all over
to work in farms, hospitals, hotels and Constructions
Building futures and faring in endeavours with sweat
Crimson gangs and Renta Mobs states we serve nobody
**** the wealth makers, **** the parasites and let's drink
Our shyster gangs of Revo-comrades and malcontents
See killing fields, whereas strangers toil and find rich pickings
Our Revos Distract, confuse, sow seeds of dissent, make strife
Blame all others, lie and decieve, fling indulgent political turds
Rent brainwashed Mobs,into ***** bridgard to do their ***** work
We all know life is unfair and even roses have imperfections
Some are born to riches in spades and some born to beggars in dusts
Those with time, sit and ask God why, just a fact of life to accept
But from dust has risen billionaires, whilst riches have made duds
Insane Crimson sits in spurious guise and odious fallacy playing God
Yeh, **** the Rich and feed the poor, why hide and use Rent a mob
Why not air your case in broad daylight and stand your conviction
The coward you are knows it hold no sanity for those with sense
Except for thieves, the workshy and wasters who cheat to survive
In your city of merits aplenty, Revo-crimson is beneath contempt
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
Immigration Reform: 1. Letting illegal immigrants stay in the USA because multi-billionaires paid oodles of cash to corrupted politicians. Letting even more illegals stay here AND providing a free education to their children while not having to support the school systems that are teaching them (in spanish) because they don't even have to pay taxes on their income. 2. The royal sodomizing of The United States of America soon to be referred to as New Hispania.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Eventually Rising
Like all the Rest
I'm tired
Alone with everyone else
Although this misery
is like water on my Soul umbrella
I can hear the sound of victory
careening beyond oppression like Ella
There is something more
there is a force
ebbing and waxing the hour
of the instant and within it
a porous
Avenue for Advancement for
All, and One!
The buzzards may circle
pecking order, and peace
Only the rancor resource the feast
Why does conservation fail,
nature of the beast
or shale we sell
Gears without the grease
Landlopers versus Land Merchants
and
Machines versus human beings
and
Change versus Stay the Same
and
Monopoly
and
Monotony
and
Unipolarity
and
Is ... IS
it
All worth bile?
Did you learn Private Pyle!?
Yes Sir, General Science!
Sure!
Can't breathe a heartbeat
can't take a stand from a seat
and when the end is near
I promise you has no fear
Glass Rock and Stone!
Sure!
may hold money but not a home
Mother and Father Earth is our biome
billionaires and paupers rot together
yet alone!
Break
Who beholds the opulent eye?
Tell me who makes it out alive?
Believers in death will die
Those who weary tarry on
All the rest
eventually rise
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 7:51 PM UTC
POVERTY AS A POEM
To use a statistic to describe poverty
is to turn a human being into a number,
the moral antithesis of compassion.
Yet The World Bank, The International
Monetary Fund, The United Nations
all use statistics when talking and writing
about poverty.
Nazis turned human beings into numbers
by using indelible ink when they wrote them
on the arms of those they soon were to ****
One human being in poverty on Earth is
one too many.
My nouns and adjectives are different:
starvation, hopelessness, illnesses,
slums, violence, death.
There are over 2,800 billionaires in the
world right now.
How much has each given to end world
poverty? How many of them have held
in his or her arms the body of a child
who has died of poverty?
Not enough, not nearly enough.
Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 10:57 PM UTC
& The guy with the
:) eyes
took his pistol,
to his head
& Bam.
It's a brain-blow-out!
Or a
beautiful- bouquet
of blood-black & red roses.
It is for sure,
An Ode To.......
Blowing up Billionaires
By the Billion.
& SO the guy with the :) eyes
Blew out the first
half of his head.
While the last half.
Well, it just bled black.
Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 5:28 PM UTC
we clock in, out
every one of us--that has ALWAYS
been the contract
the Tyrant has us all working
at minimum wage; some complain
others don't think about it
though at one time
or another, we are all grateful,
and terrified, we have a job
beggars, billionaires both
servants to the hours, His strange
circular command
but I will be dead ******
if I'll give Him a minute more than necessary
watching the hands spin on a timepiece,
eternally there to remind us, we are
temporal slaves, every minion
under His reign
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 3:26 AM UTC
In the nightmare
we lose ourselves
not wishing to look in each other’s eyes
left versus right
only millionaires and billionaires can afford to fight
male versus female
transphobic
Bigoted
drop the hate to relate
life sold cheaply over internet wars
our nation
a nation of locked doors
and hate driven speaking drivel
People
I love you all but your minds locked into
Facebook culture wars
media ******
ratings soar
go viral be the virus
or inspire us
it’s your choice
war is afforded to the rich
if your poor dig your grave or ditch.
May 10, 2022
May 10, 2022 at 5:00 AM UTC
Last call, last shout
Last drop till the last drought
We had our chance
And we're all still blowing it
Here's the line
Who will start towing it?
Sink or swim
It's time to start rowing it
We're all standing on
Broad shoulders of greed
We all grew up dependent
on disposable sneeds
Woven from the tufts
of the Redwood trees
But it's not our fault,
It wasn't you and me
It was some old grandstander
That we'll never see
Right...?
Well... Yes and no
And it only goes to show
That this house built of windows
Can't stand one more stones throw
So do we quit our jobs and stop driving?
**** I don't know...
We're past the point of blame
It's not all just a game
The more years you've got
The more hot you'll trot
Believe it or not...
So here's to the treaties!
Lower emissions and make it speedy!
**** all the billionaires,
Let's take care of the needy!
Too much to ask?
They never said it'd be easy.
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 1:15 AM UTC
No tengo - Spanish for don't have
<•>
*woke up bushy and mushy,
"Siri, get my muse on the line,"
wise *** asked which one,
guess she was feeling feisty
as well as girl-gorgeous,
poem perfect on a July 2 Sunday
fake growled and she said
"alright, alright, just a sec..."
"0 Muse, it's me,
it's not even seven am,
got the urge, ready to cruise,
pick me one of my Natman outfit de-skyizes and
let us write many jive poems
let us write till the sunsets texts us
sire, dude,
I'm
just above the horizon,
poems no mas,
unless you will write by
the fire of the maister's grill"
My Muse,
strangely morose, denies replies,
"sorry sire, (she's nice English)
all of the available words
have been purchased until
July twenty tooth"
What, I screamed, threatened and challenged,
must be one of those rude dude tech billionaires,
who think limitless is just another word for more please!
Siri
"get me god on the line so I can maccabee end,
this poetic oppression"
***** an old friend,
an A list star of many prior writs,
would surely insist that a
special rabbinical dispensation,
could be found to squeeze nattyman me,
a few thousand or so
God (looking straight at him, makes him crazy)
"so many things I do not have such as,
your prolificacy,
making me jealous that all your poets
rain down in greater quantities
than I can manufacture clear crystallinely
but now is the hour of your power,
the minute of my need,
give me some words please"
the disembodied voice's disemboweled me
"sorry son,
gotta run,
if it is words you want,
suggest get an in with
wordvango and betterdays,
me, no tengo!
their profligacy,
poems by the hour
have drained the list,
and had I not put a stop to it,
they would have taken them all
till Christmas!"
*So made me some future reservations,
selling them likes suns, 3 for a dollar,
which is even cheaper, (Eliot!)
no ifs and ands about (it)
come see the maister natser,
my words are made of obsidian
and specialty Valyrian steel,
and nobody eats my words
they just-wink at them,
then lift some, a nice steal
cause I never read a poem
undeserving
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 6:02 PM UTC
pasty white ghosts haunt
the corpse blue cornfields of Iowa
whispering wisps of smoke
shimmering shadows of the past
setting the pace for the rat race
that is the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election
senators billionaires doctors
frauds liars fools
campaigning for selection in an
archaic and outdated
form of governance
witness the spectacle
the orgastic worship
of solipsistic oligarchs
bloated by their own
sycophantic rhetoric
it's just another form
of all-American
entertainment
each orator's charismatic adage
froths forth from a
throat like a grave
pragmatism throttles hope
as we stoke the fires of
self-indulgence and neglect
the fact that we acquiesced
as another deceiver stole votes
we're choking on placebo pills
every ballot cast is another act of apathy
escapism pleading vainly for a
savior to rescue our sick society but
these hands didn't evolve so we could
collect a representative to lead us
blindly into one fiasco after another
these fingers penned
humanity's symphonies and
these calloused palms have
toiled for years under an apathetic sun
we learned to make love
using our fingertips and
with these fists
we could chart a new path
but only if we raise them in
defiance
our only chance is leaderless resistance
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
Mountebanks and madmen
And marvelous maidens
Populate and pollute politics
Which joss sticks cannot chase
Or alleviate the electorate
In its counter clockwise swirl
Down its own bathroom drain.
Only morals don’t ameliorate
It only exacerbates, enervates
Rather than eliminates the pain.
The pain is felt by franklins,
Never the nobles or magnates;
They go on and make play dates
With other multi-billionaires
In debonair pied-a-terre lofts
And scoff at the peasantry
While exchanging pleasantries
Over gold-laced desserts
Thinking nobody gets hurt
If they pilfer and pillage
Far off village and town
Tearing down and razing,
With life grazing scorched earth.
To the rich, nobody has worth;
Voices that implore are muted
And garbage-chuted in the press.
Nothing to confess, the smile;
A mile of porcelainized teeth
Made more intense by pretense
That importance is impotence
In the face of extreme wealth
When stealth cease efficacy
And delicacy isn’t required.
The moral judge is fired.
A new wife is squired
In hopes a son is sired
To take over the empire.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 5:39 AM UTC
in the last night of solvency we gather
the last of the moccasins are gone
all the indians here are punjabi
they are the nicest, finest people
in the poor dark night of new poverty
all talk of justice is gone
the school houses are useless imprisonments
no taliban are
here
just some drugged up people gettin
beatin by the police
come
the corporate billionaires are talkin
listen if you'd be considered loyal
to the new world's god
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 2:12 PM UTC
Your trumpists whoop and shout "hooray"
You talked a lot but talk is cheap
It's your inauguration day
and now you've promises to keep
You must ***** that border wall
or did you change that to a fence?
So wide, so deep and very tall
or were your promises nonsense?
And as for Clinton - Lock her up?
Or did you change your mind?
"Conflicting interests" you once said.
Such crimes in you they'd never find!
Will you deport each and every
undocumented immigrant?
When did you start backpedalling
from that initial angry rant?
And then there are the Muslim folk,
such a convenient bogeyman.
Will they all have to register
while you drop bombs on their homeland?
You said outsourcing steals jobs.
Let tariffs ease that trouble.
But how'll you soothe the working poor
when Walmart's prices double?
But know this, Donald, you have friends
to help with troubleshootin'.
Will you get cosy in that bed
with your dear comrade Putin?
The swamp you promised you would drain,
did it improve or worsen?
How will your bootlick billionaires
assist the average person?
And may we see at long, long last,
your tax returns today?
The ones you promised to release
but changed your mind along the way.
How will you handle, Mr. Trump,
these questions you must face?
The pressure's on you starting now
Lets hope you don't fall in disgrace.
So many promises you made
up to Inauguration day
But please don't keep them - they're so wrong
and such a price we all would pay.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 8:23 PM UTC
To use a statistic to describe poverty
is to turn a human being into a number,
the antithesis of compassion.
Yet The World Bank, The International
Monetary Fund, The United Nations--
all use statistics when talking and writing
about poverty.
Nazis turned human beings into numbers
by using indelible ink when they wrote them
on the arms of those they soon were to ****
One human being in poverty on Earth is
one too many.
My nouns are different:
starvation, hopelessness, illnesses,
slums, violence, death.
There are over 3,000 billionaires in the
world right now.
How much has each given to end world
poverty?
How many of them have held
in his or her arms the body of a child
dying of poverty?
Not enough, not nearly enough.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Mar 25, 2023
Mar 25, 2023 at 5:19 PM UTC
It’s the billionaire’s coup–Trump, Putin and Musk.
They’re bleeding us out, from dawn until dusk.
Consumer protections, arts, farms, forestry–
the billionaires say they’re not necessary.
From the money they save, the tax cuts will come
to the billionaires, the millionaires, their daughters and sons.
Balance the budget, so they can all have some.
So many workers deemed useless and lazy,
such as nuclear engineers–whoops! Are they crazy?
Shredding all of Congress’s appropriations
and thumbing their noses at all other nations.
Except Putin’s, because, he’s one of them--
the billionaire’s club of rich white old men,
who share dreams of ransacking the whole world, entire,
until all of it ends in storms, floods and fire.
Then off via SpaceX past the Milky Way’s limits.
No, that’s not possible. But deep down they’re dimwits.
You can fool some of us, all of the time,
You can’t fool us all, and I’ll end this rhyme:
We’ll protest, we’ll sue, we’ll go out on strikes.
And if the time comes–their heads stuck on pikes.
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 12:50 AM UTC
our skyline is hazed
and our system a maze
the streets are lined with
blood
and all you see is mud
you, political giants
billionaires in chairs
pretending like you care
when all you do is claim its "fair"
your lying to the poor
as they die on their kitchen floors
you are not above humanity
even in your mighty vacation house its insanity
who are you to say
that you are to pave the way:
you claim democracy
we see hippocracy
you cheat the poor
to get rich more
is it so hard for empathy
you arn't charged with a felony
your racism defines you
*yet somehow they defy you*
maybe as you bomb their land
and say you are here to save their band
look here, ****** can't you see
nothing is simply what i seems to be
how can you see fault in
when you can't even see past the color of skin
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 9:12 PM UTC
it's called the Mt. Everest of cuisine
without food critics...
- so i gather the chinese are not
too keen on deserts, esp. chocolate?
that fake aphrodisiac of feminism's
excuses of eager beavers in early
age trying to find a dumb schmuck
later on in life and making him
docile, effectively curbing his
****** appetite, translated as
domestic violence after they went to *** parties
with rich boy sons of billionaires?
- well the chinese do like sweet & sour
and sweet & salty cuisine.
- indeed... quiet the deviation.
- and if it ain't sweet & sour or sweet & salty...
- compared with indian cuisine, it's quiet bland.
yes, today got cooking orange chicken,
what a playful, but a mysterious glutton dish...
the marinate was not like the marinate
i'm used to, it was so diluted...
orange juice, caster sugar, soya sauce,
malt vinegar, orange zest,
ginger and garlic paste,
finely grated onion - a bit of chicken,
half the marinate content soaking up
the chicken refrigerated for 1/2 an hour,
the rest heated to a boil, cornflour added
to thicken in...
then the marinated chicken taken
out of the marinate, dipped in egg
then cornflour and fried (mini schnitzels
of the east), in three batches...
then coated in the remaining marinate
of prior heated with cornflower,
a custard too thick that orange juice had to be
added, then evaporated so the essence
got soaked up... mm... a playful, but a mysterious
glutton dish... yummy.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
The billionaires tend to their garden
at the expense of the forest,
whilst landlocked towns
invest in pine trees and surfboards
to sell a notion of escape
against the cell of a poorer tomorrow.
Religion lost its claim to G-d
once the churches locked their doors.
The homeless started a choir
on the park bench by the chapel
once they grew tired of food;
fame now the nutrition of the masses.
The baby boomers are a dying breed
set for containment and greed
and rapacious war;
the dreadful threat of a next door neighbour-
their extinction amongst
a millennial wantonness.
Heiresses brush their hair in vanity,
as does the poet to his white-noise
crowd of lunatics and alcoholics.
He crushes diazepam into his whiskey sour,
then lifts a shaking hand
to find the power he is preaching against.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC