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"creditors" poems
The Sun shines on my computer Creating a protective glare But night comes like an intruder At pictures I begin to stare After I view their portrait online I want to see their body on mine We talk all night Until I see the light That they're not that bright Or that they like to fight Desperation swirls I enter a world Where the randomness of human interaction Meets the randomness of my attraction And the low visibility Endears no civility Will I spend infinity In this digital city? The creatures try to hide They scatter in the distance They're not hard to find When their profiles leave imprints But the parasites are quick And the scavengers stick Vultures fly from iPad to iPhone Leeches try to make my pad their home Devouring me until I'm bad to the bone Like the solicitous predators Who act like creditors And the sly foxes Who claim they're locksmiths They all have claws and fangs They're all just jaws with brains I play possum Until I've lost them When monsters are made from loneliness They try to trick me with phoniness They feel I wouldn't want us to be together And they're probably right Because all I want is to spend forever In love's divine light Nocturnal animals just want the meal Of my motion They don't want to honestly feel My devotion In the wild I am a child The creatures cut deep They make me weep Until I choose to sleep But when I avoid their glance I avoid love's chance
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 4:39 AM UTC
Creatures
I sold smack on a playground today biding time to scrounge the rent-- Two months ago I had never even seen the stuff. I'd never procured it for personal use, let alone sold it. Now I'm a full-time pusher of prescriptions for problems that can't be cured, a modern-day snake-oil salesmen schlepping panaceas for every conceivable ill. *Trying to cope with depression? This'll give you a shot in the arm! Your boyfriend just broke your heart mere weeks after breaking your ***** Here's a ***** that you can depend on*... I thought I was better than this, but who can afford scruples with bills to pay? Internally I struggle to compete with people who would never deign to take note of me. My revenge is in undermining their immaculate lives, a pill-peddling Socrates keeping creditors at bay. I'd always envisioned being someone's hero-- at least being remembered for an act of creation. Instead I'm an enzyme for eradication. A cancer cell at best-- A ****** wrecking ball. One day I woke up a sidekick to a heroine that's never saved anyone...
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Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 12:53 AM UTC
Push
My hair is braided, I swear Somedays I wear it like a crown And somedays a crown of thorns Creditors keep calling I don’t answer Friends reach out Reluctantly I engage Engagement like a minimum-security prison Hush, the weak have arisen That’s some days I long for, crave for Nothing Answers Fulfillment Peace Emptiness Apple pie? French Fries With loads of ketchup Presence Yes, That’s it The present-perfect moment Wrapped in gift gold A pen that doesn’t skip Except down the street A pen that writes what it wants Not what it’s told Without regards to you A totally naked pen Unselfconsciously naked pen A pen without permission A pen without presumption A pen without proper purpose A pen without a penchant for perfection (excuse the alliteration) Without politeness or uptightness A pen that flip-flops A pen that hides under the covers when you’re around A pen that doesn’t stop Even after it runs out of ink Pink Ink Think ink Until I get tired of pink think ink A pen that doesn’t get bored so easily Like you Maybe I do   And maybe I don’t Maybe we’re two pens in a pod. Oh, fickle pen That’s so like you Yup’ the pen made me do it I’m a slave to the pen What’s up with you?
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Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 2:17 PM UTC
Two Pens in a Pod
when you trim your ***** and your mustache with the same pair of scissors when you hand over your entire paycheck to the bartender of doom and glee when you write a bounced check at the grocery store when you sleep with a girl who isn’t clean when you’re young, lost, broken and poor when your childhood runs hard and your luck runs out when your best friend is dead and your other friend is ******* your girl when your dog sleeps in the afternoon and dreams of the neighborhood ***** when your nutrients gets replaced with Xanax bars over the one who just left when your tired eyes meet the brick & mortar of strenuous labor when the smile is so fake that it appears genuine when you go all in on someone you weren’t 100% sure of when you wait on bleeding knees for the unreliable god when you bet on the boxer that crashed to the canvas when the interest is high and the banks are closed and the creditors don’t care about grace periods when you understand very little and you expel a whole lot when the cord of anxiety strangles your very essence when you turn out to be just as everyone expected don’t worry it’ll all turn around and find you again someway somehow.
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May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 11:52 AM UTC
between the ages of eighteen and death
Debtors and creditors Declining stock High sales heartless flock Profit is aim Impractical gain Weather is good Never cared to enjoy the rain Captured soul Under the debris of files Running one after the other Honesty dying in front of lie Stylishly tucked in suits And heart tailor made of wood As only then will justiy What we did and what we should Hitting hard with financial indicators Stock in hand or sundry creditors Breathe out this craziness Seek pleasure in the little things And make life a lot better Manisha
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
Debit-Credit
you know Poet Archetypal - everything about him was Poe-tickle When he sneezed he said: Haiku! When introduced to someone,  he'd say: "Haven't we met-a-phor?" He's quite resourceful like he'd introduced himself to the girl because he wanted to meter When he took his leave he'd say: "Love to stay - but it's getting a-lliter-ate" And sure he met Luke Skywalker and said to him: "Met-a-phors with you" It was fun having him around but lately he's been in prison for driving without poetic license; and also because his creditors pursued him because he just Ode so much
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May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
poet Archetypal
Lady Luck (Poem by Serenus) Lady, Oh Lady I really need your touch I know you’ll make it better And get me out of this clutch Just one feel from you And I will be filled with fortune I’m not asking for millions, or billions But I’ll take half of that portion I’m just kidding… Just checking- are you listening? I really mean no harm I’m stressing…In need of a blessing So now I’m armed with charms I’m holding tight to my horseshoe And protecting my 4 leaf clover Someone took my rabbit’s foot So I’m always looking over my shoulder Lately My prosperity Has been particularly Irregular With depression and disparity Losing clarity Fighting off all my creditors I can handle this myself But it’s a gamble, a roll of the dice I realize, the lows and highs Are just a part of life Lady, Oh Lady Your influence just can’t be denied I hope to stay in your good graces And far away from your bad side…
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 10:23 PM UTC
Lady Luck
**** I slipped and fell backwards. Stood up on my own two feet so as not to look awkward but I staggered with an Obama like swagger. I beg of you, **** please, can we go a lil faster? For my life expectancy I am not the master. I got kids and bills legacy of a broke ******* If I was Cancer it'd be a disaster cause Medicare don't take kindly to me I owe badly. Sadly, it's the truth and I'ma King and yet still get treated like I don't have a dream! Beams of light hit this planet so beautiful and amazing and yet we still take it for granted having all these babies without no savings. Gotta steal and not **** to get by lately. Call my creditors maybe hopin' to get a better rate on my **** cravings. Feel like I'm from K-Pax stuck like Kevin Spacey. Hate me if you want. I don't give a **** You can live my life I'll take yours and run a muck! Dear Abby, please don't confuse this I really don't wanna do this suicidal thoughts are useless. Proved foolish clueless is what I am to sucka's actin' dufus! Radio Raheim, I know he rocked two fist. My Mama could really give two ***** I'm too ****** Abused by a **** she ain't taken no **** She too ruthless. You can call her Brutus. If I'm taken too long then go to another booth den (then)! Two pens, write with both hands. Call me Ambidex-trian. (Ambidexterity) If you Mexican maybe you can request again. Send me back from Iran holdin' two cans. Livin' on the streets beggin' like po man. Served this country and can't get a helping hand. Take a stand! Remember when we used to believe in Unite We Stand? Yeah right! What a joke we plan! When words spoken to those just a slogan. Big ups to Joe Rogan! Knockin' nigga's out wit' one blow man. These words I deliver like the local post man. So-cam I mean So-com That's my sons favorite game...
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Jun 17, 2011
Jun 17, 2011 at 1:34 AM UTC
My Thoughts
**** I slipped and fell backwards. Stood up on my own two feet so as not to look awkward but I staggered with an Obama like swagger. I beg of you, **** please, can we go a lil faster? For my life expectancy I am not the master. I got kids and bills legacy of a broke ******* If I was Cancer it'd be a disaster cause Medicare don't take kindly to me I owe badly. Sadly, it's the truth and I'ma King and yet still get treated like I don't have a dream! Beams of light hit this planet so beautiful and amazing and yet we still take it for granted having all these babies without no savings. Gotta steal and not **** to get by lately. Call my creditors maybe hopin' to get a better rate on my **** cravings. Feel like I'm from K-Pax stuck like Kevin Spacey. Hate me if you want. I don't give a **** You can live my life I'll take yours and run a muck! Dear Abby, please don't confuse this I really don't wanna do this suicidal thoughts are useless. Proved foolish clueless is what I am to sucka's actin' dufus! Radio Raheim, I know he rocked two fist. My Mama could really give two ***** I'm too ****** Abused by a **** she ain't taken no **** She too ruthless. You can call her Brutus. If I'm taken too long then go to another booth den (then)! Two pens, write with both hands. Call me Ambidex-trian. (Ambidexterity) If you Mexican maybe you can request again. Send me back from Iran holdin' two cans. Livin' on the streets beggin' like po man. Served this country and can't get a helping hand. Take a stand! Remember when we used to believe in Unite We Stand? Yeah right! What a joke we plan! When words spoken to those just a slogan. Big ups to Joe Rogan! Knockin' nigga's out wit' one blow man. These words I deliver like the local post man. So-cam I mean So-com That's my sons favorite game...
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80
Elizabeth, the ****** Queen, left vacant the English throne. Her Scottish Stuart cousin came and claimed it for his own. Two nations with one monarchy joined in the Union Jack. The Scottish lost their nationhood and now they want it back. Saint Andrews’ Flag of Bonnie Blue will have to be unfurled if Scotland votes to take its place among nations in the world. Quebecois and Basques today are eagerly looking on to see if Scots will vote to tell the English to be gone. Hadrian’s Wall will, once more, mark where their dominion ends. Remove your subs from Scapa Flow; your lease is at an end. There still remains a problem which, just now, occurs to me. If the English take their Pound with them, what is our currency? It’s true we’re rich with North Sea oil and better off than Spain. Yet how do we do business if the Sterling won’t remain. We need a new “Gold” standard based upon the single malt! Who needs pounds when we have ounces stored in barrels and in vaults? So pour me a “MacCallan” on the day the rent comes due. Hand me a glenfiddich and I’ll purvey food to you.. Our creditors will be well pleased with hints of bog and peat. We won’t dilute our currency as Scots men drink it neat.
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
Whiskey Business
He’s the kind that likes to swindle He’s always got some deal cooking, (His bait and switch game doesn’t dwindle,) When he doesn’t think we’re looking You went to school with a **** like this, He always claimed others were cheats. He showed up early only if and when They were serving food and sweets. But never showed up for the work Or did playground games honestly. He claimed twice the victories he had And lied to everyone constantly. All the deals he makes are scams He pulls the rug out from under. (Were his steaks really just spam?) And leaves giggling at his plunder. When he got older, he took his dad’s gold And parlayed it into a lifetime game Of promises not kept, and half-truths And, as usual, never once took the blame He preferred never to pay his bills And then bragged about how gullible The creditors were, and how they all Should really have charged him double. Hey, ** he thinks we don’t know Just what kind of game he’s playing. Just listen to his promises online It’s the opposite of what he’s saying. But that’s how snake oil salesmen are; They cook up a batch of ***** and herbs And sell it as a cure-all and hurt folks Then laugh and claim it’s what they deserve. And, when his books turn out to be cooked He lies about it way before you start. When asked how he could be so crooked He says, “That’s because I’m so smart!” He’s the kind that likes to swindle He’s always got some deal cooking. (His bait and switch game doesn’t dwindle) When he doesn’t think we’re looking
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May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
SNAKE OIL, INC.
He’s the kind that likes to swindle He’s always got some deal cooking, (His bait and switch game doesn’t dwindle,) When he doesn’t think we’re looking You went to school with a **** like this, He always claimed others were cheats. He showed up early only if and when They were serving food and sweets. But never showed up for the work Or did playground games honestly. He claimed twice the victories he had And lied to everyone constantly. All the deals he makes are scams He pulls the rug out from under. (Were his steaks really just spam?) And leaves giggling at his plunder. When he got older, he took his dad’s gold And parlayed it into a lifetime game Of promises not kept, and half-truths And, as usual, never once took the blame He preferred never to pay his bills And then bragged about how gullible The creditors were, and how they all Should really have charged him double. Hey, ** he thinks we don’t know Just what kind of game he’s playing. Just listen to his promises online It’s the opposite of what he’s saying. But that’s how snake oil salesmen are; They cook up a batch of ***** and herbs And sell it as a cure-all and hurt folks Then laugh and claim it’s what they deserve. And, when his books turn out to be cooked He lies about it way before you start. When asked how he could be so crooked He says, “That’s because I’m so smart!” He’s the kind that likes to swindle He’s always got some deal cooking. (His bait and switch game doesn’t dwindle) When he doesn’t think we’re looking
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40
In shadows cast by burdens' weight, I wander through a bleak estate, Where debts entwine like chains of fate, And dreams of love lie desolate. Oh, wretched soul, trapped in this snare, My heart, once hopeful, now stripped bare, For love's embrace seems all but fair, As debts devour the joys we share. The golden band that graced my hand, A symbol of a promised land, Now tarnished by the debtors' brand, A bitter curse I can't withstand. With each passing day, a mounting toll, A debtors' song, an endless role, No solace found in midnight's shoal, As dreams of wedded bliss take a toll. I yearn to hold my lover near, To banish all the doubts and fear, But in this realm of debts austere, Our love's sweet whispers disappear. The wedding bells, a distant chime, Lost amidst this pitiless rhyme, As debts entangle, stall, and bind, Our future fades, a shattered mime. No fairytale ending shall we find, For love's foundation, undermined, By creditors' greed, so unkind, Our plans to wed, forever confined. Oh, cruel fate, with callous glee, You douse our hopes, relentlessly, In this abyss, we'll cease to be, A tragic tale of debt's decree. So let my tears flow like a river, For shattered dreams and love's endeavor, As debts consume, and hearts deliver, A woeful dirge, a love that withers. In the depths of debt's relentless snare, A lover's union, left threadbare, A somber tale of love's despair, Bound in the debt's suffocating lair.
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Jun 17, 2023
Jun 17, 2023 at 4:48 AM UTC
Debt's Grip: Love Fades
~ for FK He fell asleep a defunct and uncertain mortal, but in that night of wavering visions he dreamed of crocodiles and lilacs each blossoming according to its own nature. That made a sort of sense. Telephones rang and creditors questioned. Fishermen returned from the sea with boats full of water which they easily traded for vast quantities of oxygen. The crocodiles were fragrant and the lilacs smiled. That, too, made a sort of sense. One melancholy action flung itself upon the stars and vanished from the satisfied earth. He loved God and Satan simultaneously and in their delight they reopened the Garden feeling once more the necessity of affection and directed him to eat his fill. Who can argue with such divine logic? All his ex-lovers sent telegrams expressing regret. The gold he never had swelled his coffers. He decided this dream was too lovely to end. And yet, how to make sense of this gloaming cornucopia? The answer struck him obvious as an earthquake: forget the prisons of words; take new orders; laugh with the crocodiles; dance with the lilacs; become a man of action; imbibe Ambrosia for breakfast; devour Manna for lunch; **** astonishing flowers. This makes perfect sense. - mce
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:43 AM UTC
Metamorphosis
Stress sneaked up on me Like a ninja out of the blues Like a saxophone player Weaving an intricate melody To my internal noir monologue Like a tax collector striking at night Or a deadly case of the Creditors flu Like a group of cut-throat dames Like fog in the rain Like a secretary named Velema. Stress sneaked up on me When the detective came a-knocking. He wanted his cigarette back. I told him I didn't have it Then the ****** walked in Quick-finger Teddy Butcher Saint Merry Leg-breaker Lenny Mobster Ricco Snake Bently And Marcini of the incredibly gifted hands Too. Lead makes a different sound when fired Glass shatters into tinkling tear drops Like the heavens weeping. Plaster breaks. Stress sneaked up on me Like a kiss goodbye... It's all Smoke through the city...
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 4:04 AM UTC
Smoke through the city
CLIVE PALMER IS NOW ILL AND CANT REMEMBER ANYMORE TWO BUSINESS MEN FROM THE PAST BOTH TRIED THE SAME SCORE THEY ALL HAVE RUN THEIR COMPANY INTO THE GROUND WHERE DID ALL THE MONEY GO NEVER MORE TO BE FOUND ITS NOW THE CREDITORS AND WORKERS THAT NOW ALL HAVE TO MISS OUT BECAUSE CLIVE PALMER HAS LOST HIS MEMORY AND DOSEN'T KNOW WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT WHEN WILL THESE HIGH FLYERS LEARN TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT THEY HAVE DONE INSTEAD OF LOOSING THEIR MEMORY AND ONLY THINKING OF NUMBER ONE
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May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
CLIVE PALMER
When you have no money nobody wants to know, Being made redundant, my morale is feeling low. Waiting on the government to process my claim, Can't pay my bills, I'm panicking, but I am not to blame. Creditors chasing me, letters piling up behind the door, powerless to do a thing, but this I can't ignore. Loosing the will slowly, my head hurts from all the pleading, my children and my dog they will soon need feeding. No support available, this walk I must do alone, crying myself to sleep, I could have been prepared if I had known. My world has suddenly collapsed, the domino effect has begun, rippling through my cash flow, this summer isn't feeling fun. The days are feeling empty, to broke to go anywhere, trying to scrape together copper so I can treat my children to the fair. Relentless job searches, I'm tearing at my hair, when you are left without a penny and there's no one around to care. Holding my head in my hands, trying to keep things together, depressed and down I hope this isn't forever. Fighting off the feelings, trying not to take it to heart, hurt that I worked so hard, from the very start. I was always there, worked overtime for free, helped out when things were bad, stupid, silly me. Its ok for the big boys, their wage it tripled mine, They may be in the same boat, but they will just be fine. Pacing the walls I'm slowly slipping into madness, Clinging onto hope, getting lost deep inside the sadness. A temporary glitch, I'm hoping I will be able to recover, its times like this we need help from one another. Scared, more terrified but what's worse is I feel alone, trying hard to keep upbeat, trying to remain in good tone.   My children too young to understand, and my dog just looks at me funny. Not realising the world is dominated by that paper stuff called money. My thoughts are racing vividly, trying to capture an idea, paralysed by the sudden shock along with intense fear. My world has collided, my heart begins to fade, All of this could have been prevented, If only I'd been paid.
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:54 AM UTC
Redundancy
When you have no money nobody wants to know, Being made redundant, my morale is feeling low. Waiting on the government to process my claim, Can't pay my bills, I'm panicking, but I am not to blame. Creditors chasing me, letters piling up behind the door, powerless to do a thing, but this I can't ignore. Loosing the will slowly, my head hurts from all the pleading, my children and my dog they will soon need feeding. No support available, this walk I must do alone, crying myself to sleep, I could have been prepared if I had known. My world has suddenly collapsed, the domino effect has begun, rippling through my cash flow, this summer isn't feeling fun. The days are feeling empty, to broke to go anywhere, trying to scrape together copper so I can treat my children to the fair. Relentless job searches, I'm tearing at my hair, when you are left without a penny and there's no one around to care. Holding my head in my hands, trying to keep things together, depressed and down I hope this isn't forever. Fighting off the feelings, trying not to take it to heart, hurt that I worked so hard, from the very start. I was always there, worked overtime for free, helped out when things were bad, stupid, silly me. Its ok for the big boys, their wage it tripled mine, They may be in the same boat, but they will just be fine. Pacing the walls I'm slowly slipping into madness, Clinging onto hope, getting lost deep inside the sadness. A temporary glitch, I'm hoping I will be able to recover, its times like this we need help from one another. Scared, more terrified but what's worse is I feel alone, trying hard to keep upbeat, trying to remain in good tone.   My children too young to understand, and my dog just looks at me funny. Not realising the world is dominated by that paper stuff called money. My thoughts are racing vividly, trying to capture an idea, paralysed by the sudden shock along with intense fear. My world has collided, my heart begins to fade, All of this could have been prevented, If only I'd been paid.
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23
A ****** crossed a crescent moon in a twilight sky, the wind whispering "Is this a blessing or is it a curse." Falling stars pass through the pastel splashed canvas of a Northern night heading toward once green fields ***** and on fire with no morning's dew for rest bit. To the south mountain tops pushing jaggedly   through milk white clouds, their tips, rock bare and alone, always looking down on the world, their stone being smoothed by one hundred million winds through one hundred million years. Only time will tell if there will be a human shadow to bask in the rays of a close enough Sun. Playful gods, mythical legends telling us that any great wrong will be found out. A Proverb's Fallout dripping down our brow like interest owed to creditors.
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 7:06 AM UTC
Time Will Tell
This didn’t happen overnight, pushed all boundaries out of sight. Don’t know their next step but it can’t be right. Their grubby hands covering your eyes, wicked tongues whispering blatant lies. No confirmation for their alibis. If a group of like minded people can storm the Capital why not a steeple? A sanctuary that’s built for predators. For those who stormed Capitol Hill why can’t they now go in for the **** Maybe too busy running from creditors. I’m just so annoyed with the American void. So many questions all over a vote; they tried to mutiny like on a boat, but now not asking why there’s no note. With all those riots that were in the street, willing to take a bullet or join the line to be beat, no asking why someone special got an extra sheet. If a group of like minded people can defeat police then why not the bald eagle? Just another symbol for freedom and justice’s joke. For those who stormed Capitol Hill does it not drive you crazy to now stay still? Maybe too distracted by the war of Pepsi vs Coke. I’m just so annoyed with the American Void. If people can go missing why can’t files, same with pedophiles and certain isles? It’s funny how they gave away, the ones we already knew what they’d say. If people can go missing why can’t files, same with pedophiles and their trials. It’s funny how they gave away, the records of JF & ML K. Apparently there’s a minute missing every night I guess we know when the time to strike is right.
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Jul 17, 2025
Jul 17, 2025 at 10:27 AM UTC
American Void
This didn’t happen overnight, pushed all boundaries out of sight. Don’t know their next step but it can’t be right. Their grubby hands covering your eyes, wicked tongues whispering blatant lies. No confirmation for their alibis. If a group of like minded people can storm the Capital why not a steeple? A sanctuary that’s built for predators. For those who stormed Capitol Hill why can’t they now go in for the **** Maybe too busy running from creditors. I’m just so annoyed with the American void. So many questions all over a vote; they tried to mutiny like on a boat, but now not asking why there’s no note. With all those riots that were in the street, willing to take a bullet or join the line to be beat, no asking why someone special got an extra sheet. If a group of like minded people can defeat police then why not the bald eagle? Just another symbol for freedom and justice’s joke. For those who stormed Capitol Hill does it not drive you crazy to now stay still? Maybe too distracted by the war of Pepsi vs Coke. I’m just so annoyed with the American Void. If people can go missing why can’t files, same with pedophiles and certain isles? It’s funny how they gave away, the ones we already knew what they’d say. If people can go missing why can’t files, same with pedophiles and their trials. It’s funny how they gave away, the records of JF & ML K. Apparently there’s a minute missing every night I guess we know when the time to strike is right.
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36
Broke, busted, tapped out, destitute. Once again I have no money. Once more, I don't care. Too bad my stomach and creditors do. Oh well, let them wait. Money, like women or luck, shows up in its own good time. Patience, my thin little wallet. You will be fed again directly. Meantime, chew on a bit of faith. - mce
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Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
Today's Economic Outlook
With my heart weeping every moment, & my deserted eyes not even shading a single tear, Oh! I feel my every part screaming with pain, But my tongue yet silent with a known fear! & no here ain't present any of my lover, Or anyone of my creditors, who owe a part of my love, But in the similar faces left are just the pain givers...
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Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 10:55 AM UTC
The pain givers!!!
Neon lights; they're taking away my rights, advertising so bright, only capitalism in sight. Slaving away, to make ends meet each day, creditors barely at bay, with the same thing they always say: "You're indebted to us, we manipulated your trust, and now we own you; head, feet and bust, but it's your life and wallet that we lust." Constant bills, money has lost all of it's thrills, no heat; you freeze and chill, then starving; being poor kills. Yet still it seems so, they think you have the money to blow, on the pointless things for show, or on knowledge you will never know. So tell me when will it stop? When will the prices drop? The well's dry and farms lack the crop, the economy is doomed to flop. From the advertisers, the supersizers, the colonizers, the demonetizers. Going to pray, that I survive another day, to light a candle to show the way, but for the light I have to pay. Now it seems to me, that Heaven is meant for the wealthy, and our lives; a shopping spree, in this Hell we get for free. So tell me how long will it be, until Jesus' sandals are Nike, and his **** cloth is Gucci, and they trademark the word "Holy." So tell me how long will it be, until Jesus' sandals are Nike, and his **** cloth is Gucci, and praying will cost a service fee.
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Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 1:50 AM UTC
Redemption Rebate
So I was made out of bed ruckus On this day Iheard a voice say Its a new born king And then i couldn't cling Onto the ******** That troubled me before i reached the age of three I aint lying my brain fryin' Cuz i seen so many people dyin' Spiritual or physical Still im a miracle **** the haters n spectators Learn gamed from affilated Street creditors The game done change since '95 Im all the waylive Like coolio im in ya culo Blazin' a shot gun enema Yo this aint no cinema My game tight learned wrong from right Still battlin' the fight On my bday suit quick to shoot Down clowns revengin' my buried historical grounds Lately im comin' back Penetratin the Hearts of sin Only to find my self back where it all began???
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
Earth Day
We knew T-Rex from its tiny claws Its hungry mouth, its toothy jaws. But how can we assess T-Rump When all our data’s from a stump And weekly polls that flinch and jump? The answer’s lying deep below Perhaps with Edgar Allen Poe Whose poetry is dark and slow. A creature walking o’er the earth In privilege stretching back to birth That claims ascendance overall And loves to brag and boast and brawl And sometimes recoils, sometimes howls (One sometimes wonders at its bowels— When watching active ****** scowls.) T-Rump is marching to consume What’s going on in the newsroom And feeds on minor predators, (Ignoring its own creditors). It likes to crouch and dance and pose While speaking in a broken prose And often wrinkling up its nose At anything that might oppose Or even worse, that might expose, Its streak of show-and-tell sideshows. Alas when sizing up T-Rump One hits a show-and-tell speed bump That’s not about its topmost clump Or its eternal ****** frump. We know, somehow, we’re each a chump In thinking that there was an ump Who’d put things on the ump and ump And so we lazed, and scrimped and scrumped Instead of what we’d need to do— To find what’s cleanly new and true, And redirect our Waterloo Away from its own cancerous lump And toward a far less spurious zoo. In other words, to dump T-Rump!
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Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
Tyrannosaurus-Rump
John Paul Satre could have written it; a play about these times. The Greek banks are closed on Holiday and Greeks all stand in line. Sixty Euros if you’re lucky, that’s the limit for the day. The Greeks are running out of Euros, and I’m afraid there’s Hell to pay. The people have rejected Merkel’s plan to be austere, And so the leftist government might finish out the year. Printing Drachmas in the basement has to be their back up plan; as they make their graceful Grexit may their creditors be dammed. Will Brussels send the Wehrmacht in to seize crops in the fields? You can only squeeze an olive once; there’s a limit on the yield. This isn’t debt that they can pay the pundits have opined. The can cannot be kicked again, this was the final time. Italy and Portugal both wait with bated breath; Along with Spain they want to see what Brussels will do next. Greece is a small country, one with a pleasant clime. What happens next is what you’d expect of Dominos in line.
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Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
No Grexit
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0
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 3:10 AM UTC
You should buy shoes in fitflopstore.wix.com/fitflop-store
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out to sea countless miles hand to the tiller to find that brief moment on the crest of a twenty foot breaking wave as a nor'easter wilds the sea when you glimpse it in the stillness between heaven and earth she hid in her bedroom looking at a late fall paris passing rainstorm and on the run down east side facing the setting sun she could just make out another lover fleeing town with his creditors in hot pursuit he owed so much for the words he had abused up on paris's boothill the gunslingers and thieves wouldn't have ya it was in that darkest hour she glimpsed it in the mirror under the bewitching stars in the anvil of desolation's wasteland of high desert on the cusp of the suns imminent rise you can see it in the broiling fire as the edge of the world itself appears to burn you can see clearly that this end of your little world is but a door which you stand at the threshold many times in your life step into the fire or frying pan step into the next world you will live in or try vainly to escape into the past
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 10:40 AM UTC
paris's boothill