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"debit" poems
You know something like 200,000 dollars Was spent to educate me And here I am on Amazon Wishing I could afford to order two Pair of hiking socks instead of one I'll use my debit card for this transaction And make the payment on my credit card this month And then I will be able to order a second pair Lol
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
Hiking Socks
Handbag~ 1994 exam timetable £5 from my Mum shiny key for the front door fresh-mint chewing gum Handbag~ 1998 keys for work keys for home £20 and a bit of change photo of my best mate and a bloke that's twice my age lipstick~ lacy knickers condoms~ ID card ticket for a bus to town UV sparkly stars Handbag~ 1999 keys for work keys for home spare key for his flat condoms~ contraceptive pills No.7 powder-ivory/matt VISA/Delta debit card paper gel ink pens number of a bloke who says our love will never end Handbag~ 2000 keys for work keys for home key for the gas meter Teletubbies picture book list of baby-sitters new mobile phone herbal teething gel lipstick~ Anadin vanilla impulse body spray children's Nurofen photo of my baby boy really tiny socks under-eye concealer secret stash of chocs Handbag~ 2002 keys for work keys for home pull-back-and-go car baby wipes mobile phone estate agents' cards picture of my little boy list of things to do Boots own brand pregnancy test both windows coloured blue Handbag~ 2005 keys for home card from work tissue full of tears photo of my boy in school that shows his gappy teeth photo of my baby girl and one of both of them a ring that used to be my Mum's Pro-Plus~ Diazepam Handbag~ 2009 keys for work keys for home one SLIM~FAST bar one Cadbury's wrapper Haribo~ Calpol~ tissues assorted Disney plasters treasured stones~ special shells sand and bits of twig money to buy ice creams photos of my kids
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Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 4:52 PM UTC
Handbag 1994~2009
Never have I seen such an Avid Score Then draw your Players back to your Credit Once Clocks have wrung your Springs tight before Now ring Best Conclusions to your Debit So your Tendons ripe and joined Model Bro Each with Burned Spectacles for Thigh's attract And he taught you well; A Flame burning so **** Timbers do kiss your Tongue's Good Act The Green Elf was right. If you could agree That Advanced Levels only stunt your Mane But just Read the Play; And Scripts follow free Your Lion-Born Instinct is one and the same. Chelsea has Won. And wore Arsenal's Shirt The Meaning of which, Tie's Variance still hurts.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: WILLIAM DALEY - THE COMING OF AGE
An app for this An app for that An app even, To feed your cat. Mesmerised by mobiles All these zombies shuffle along Nearly getting run over So internet throng. Scanning with their debit cards No time for cash But I don’t trust these things With their laser flash. All this social media Where is it going? So much information Toing and froing. Good to keep in touch And so easy to Google Want to make a noise? It’s better than a bugle. Better check in on Facebook So you all know where I am Time to check my emails To bin the latest scam. But whatever happened to talking? It’s now a forgotten art! The cyber revolution: This is just the start. Paul Butters © PB 19\3\22.
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Mar 19, 2022
Mar 19, 2022 at 3:47 PM UTC
Technology
Bless me Uncle! God's given Naked Head For finding a Mentor these Comms restore And import a Friend brought Laughter instead With a Learning Interest revived once more For all our doubts, grateful Confidence brew This shrill Vernacular you opt to Reach Whilst you divulge Traded Secrets a-new Shrieked the Blue Eagle; Sately-Done you Teach That Part we will Miss! Surely Independ When we of Soft Skills this Task inherit What Pictures remain of Trust comprehend We give back in Kind to Service, debit. Difficult it is to Forget you by As you climb the Stairs, we sing: "MABUHAY!"
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: JONATHAN "JONO" BRADY
Credit to my heart. Debit to your pride.
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 10:01 PM UTC
Accounting
i can't believe i'm living out my life's 10 seconds of stupidity with an un-payable debit account security of future credit, loans, debt and moaning... **** me double twice blind with a joker in hand... of course i'm stupid, i got educated in a world that pays you back with menial labour, to look pretty... seriously, don't do the stupidest thing imaginable and get yourself a university degree, unless you're a woman, that's fine, you'll get to meet and voluntarily wet your ****** with the next president of Romania, but we need idiot mechanics, and believe me, i'd rather oil up car pistons like stroking giraffe necks of Myanmar women.... from **** generals cited through to Epicurus' citation... believe me, i wish i was smarter, most of posthumous fame is a regard of obstructive i.q., we were believed to not take offence at our exposure to systematisation which educated both thief and banker... none of the two differ... both excusable buffers... we trusted people... trust was our biggest idiotic remark... and now the earth in spin... for endless maxims: it's like that... and that's the way it is; no wonder i end up watching serial killer documentaries.
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May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
Giraffes and Maynmar women
Sanded down, handed down heirlooms for boardrooms. Directors prospecting for antique positions, commission based, cyanide laced contracts, small print that annihilates, dilating the pupils ,restrictive and pencils that scribble out names in a ledger. Forever indebted, a debit individual. All residual profit reinvested, future proofed heirlooms.
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Carpentry for novices
So, after reading this Programme with her And felt the Blood up-river past your brain She was Smiling. And thus I beg-confirm How to abdicate this Throneful Pain Do Tears from your Fans ever sensate you Even when their Pillars support your Fare Bitter Notes will tweet; And Pretty Souls too Just how you Falter these Dictions beware She was Brave enough to post the Same Event At Risk to debit their Frustrated Fears Brother and Sister: Most live Excuse meant A Funny Welcome to whom they Revere. Please. This isn't the first Turtle Reflex Of Four-Digits-Two minus Year-of-Six.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:41 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - FOURTY-SEVEN - TOM DALEY
And I have this strange feeling. Memories of us, Margaritas sipped slow. Comcast commercials played on repeat. The weather mild. First in line. Patiently waiting to board a flight Without need for debit card. Inspired by the look in each other's eyes. Beats by Dre sponsored by the throb of hearts. Wandering the gap between songs. We sip, no longer the ones that got away. Our silent trips planned moments in advance. This strange feeling soaring over patio tables, beaches. Flying away with you in mind body soul. The many oceans to come. Highlighting the glare that reflects off our window. This strange feeling Becoming more and more familiar
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
Strange Feeling
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've got to be kidding me, He looks just like your ******* dad. Fifty and dirt poor, tell me this isn't you. Because darling him fixing motorcycles won't support your life style. And you'll end up in debit, filling away all your dreams and hopes. You were meant for more than this, can't you please be stronger? Stand up for what you deserve.
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
Fixing Motorcycles
I think it's sorta funny how when you pay with plastic they ask you: "Debit, or credit?"; because, as denoted in a dictionary, they are polar opposites; yet, as connotated in popular culture, they differ only in the time it takes to be charged, that is to say to incur a loss. So, in certain ways, it can be said one is wiser to chose "debit"; which, I find, deeply ironic: In our culture One gets to choose either debit or credit; and, in our culture, One can be wiser to choose debit. This, and more, withstanding; I tend to try to use cash.
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Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
Debit, or Credit?
Being male, I wander Mom dares not wonder What kind of monsters she birthed She brought her own equipment I was aggressive but shy Her womb is the most magnificent Temple I’ve ever visited There is nowhere else I want to be Sister insisted I stiffened then gave in Children tease, squeal, scamper Adults know unspeakable reality Dizziness of first love Mayhem, ****** Solemn whisper of infinity After an uncertain age, No one wants you anymore Old women bond Confer their anger Old men tread alone She knew from moment he laid eyes on her, she had him. She wore no make-up, anemic complexion, chin and jawline slightly broken out with red spots, cobalt blue irises, aquiline nose, hair dyed dark, fuzz-balled scarf, light blue fluffy sweater, big buttons, canvas shoulder bag, skinny jeans, leather boots, little boney black dog with ashen appointments. Instantly he fell in love. He confessed, “Your Chinese Crested pup stole my heart.” In *********** position, neither lover sees other’s face. The top sees backside. The bottom sees what? He didn’t know. She unlocks the door. He enters room. She tells him what to do, making demands. He follows her orders. She questions, “Why do we dance to these tunes?” He answers, “I want to smell your smells, **** drink your darkest juices.” She articulates, “Stay,” then kisses him goodbye. She wakes wearing his ring, around her neck. They are each other’s slaves. Ceiling leaks, floor creaks, light beams through window as they waltz arm in arm. She demands, “I want roast rack of lamb, or thinly sliced Serrano ham on buttered toast for dinner. And then I want to go home alone. I need some down time, away from you. I don’t belong to you, ********* Deep in financial debt, he hands the waiter his debit card.
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
Can We Possibly Be Friends Again, Or Conflicted Codependent Fantasy Involving Woman I Just Met And Hardly Know - 2013 M.R.R.
Being male, I wander Mom dares not wonder What kind of monsters she birthed She brought her own equipment I was aggressive but shy Her womb is the most magnificent Temple I’ve ever visited There is nowhere else I want to be Sister insisted I stiffened then gave in Children tease, squeal, scamper Adults know unspeakable reality Dizziness of first love Mayhem, ****** Solemn whisper of infinity After an uncertain age, No one wants you anymore Old women bond Confer their anger Old men tread alone She knew from moment he laid eyes on her, she had him. She wore no make-up, anemic complexion, chin and jawline slightly broken out with red spots, cobalt blue irises, aquiline nose, hair dyed dark, fuzz-balled scarf, light blue fluffy sweater, big buttons, canvas shoulder bag, skinny jeans, leather boots, little boney black dog with ashen appointments. Instantly he fell in love. He confessed, “Your Chinese Crested pup stole my heart.” In *********** position, neither lover sees other’s face. The top sees backside. The bottom sees what? He didn’t know. She unlocks the door. He enters room. She tells him what to do, making demands. He follows her orders. She questions, “Why do we dance to these tunes?” He answers, “I want to smell your smells, **** drink your darkest juices.” She articulates, “Stay,” then kisses him goodbye. She wakes wearing his ring, around her neck. They are each other’s slaves. Ceiling leaks, floor creaks, light beams through window as they waltz arm in arm. She demands, “I want roast rack of lamb, or thinly sliced Serrano ham on buttered toast for dinner. And then I want to go home alone. I need some down time, away from you. I don’t belong to you, ********* Deep in financial debt, he hands the waiter his debit card.
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24
A bad, worming feeling in your belly because you've had nothing to eat today, and you hopped in your car, giddy as a bird, and rolled over there. There being the magic store; the store with it's keychains of glory, bottles of distilled religion, and a whole lot of prayer that your debit card sings. Tomorrow means work and the evil dollar that drags Jamaican children across intersections as they scream at the Americans in taxis. It seems we all need a break. We all need a chance to forget and say we're not culpable for anything. This is the magic that'll save you from your whiny conscience.
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Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 11:55 PM UTC
The American.
And the show is never over! I don't even remember purchasing the tickets. Welcome to a runny nose, and welcome to a style of up and down. Because that's all up and down are; styles for the miles of crowded planet. Drink your tired music like a bowl of wonton soup Chunks will surprise you. Swipe your debit, credit, hallmark card to purchase them All of them. Every inch of their REM. I woke up to the winter concealed in valleys Filled with fortune and ethernet cables. What's your wifi password? "Thanks, love." Alright, thanks, love. What a beautiful way to say "careful." Carefree. Curvature of some invisible decimal point. I love you.
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Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 2:02 AM UTC
Your ears ring like a falsetto choir within the great chamber auditorium of your head
Coca-cola has the taste you never get tired of, always refreshing, thats why things go better with coke after coke after joke Is this a joke Cola-Coke I musta mispoke Coke. Blow your smoke and my heart evoke Mr. Coke Mr. Coke Strong as an oak I swear, you tryna provoke I’m being short-changed Changed by the pain of empty wallets and weight gain Is this the dope or just coke in my Brain veins Cause I swear e’re time it rains I get a little bit stickier with that sugar sweet fresh, ahhhhh taste you just can’t beat Without a drink my meal ain’t complete I trick or treat for that bittersweet flavor that makes my heart wanna beat Say bye, wave hi to e’re passerby that I meet I’m incomplete Is what they want me to think And so i drink I drink and I'm filled I drink and I’m thrilled Just to be a little part in their bigger party Seein only things that they want me to see I nod to agree I read the marquee Lock down and guarantee But I’m still nobody Nobody to you and nobody to me and now I see they WANT me to spend money But I’ll spell it out for you M-O-N-E-(WHY) do I buy things I feel a certain way Why do I buy things I had a bad day I think I buy cause I’m worthess gotta validate and purchase my purpose And coke’s throwin me inna circus of life, liberty and the pursuit of happy times But it's hard to pay your way with nickels and dimes but I can refund this bottle for 5 cents or break it, and it be my defense How does that make sense Now I’m on the fence Do I buy another bottle or a six-pack for the road I don’t really know when it comes to cola-coke coca-cola sugar sweet can’t be beat Will that be debit or credit Our chip reader doesn’t work See you tomorrow Mr. Coke
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Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
Cola-Coke
Coca-cola has the taste you never get tired of, always refreshing, thats why things go better with coke after coke after joke Is this a joke Cola-Coke I musta mispoke Coke. Blow your smoke and my heart evoke Mr. Coke Mr. Coke Strong as an oak I swear, you tryna provoke I’m being short-changed Changed by the pain of empty wallets and weight gain Is this the dope or just coke in my Brain veins Cause I swear e’re time it rains I get a little bit stickier with that sugar sweet fresh, ahhhhh taste you just can’t beat Without a drink my meal ain’t complete I trick or treat for that bittersweet flavor that makes my heart wanna beat Say bye, wave hi to e’re passerby that I meet I’m incomplete Is what they want me to think And so i drink I drink and I'm filled I drink and I’m thrilled Just to be a little part in their bigger party Seein only things that they want me to see I nod to agree I read the marquee Lock down and guarantee But I’m still nobody Nobody to you and nobody to me and now I see they WANT me to spend money But I’ll spell it out for you M-O-N-E-(WHY) do I buy things I feel a certain way Why do I buy things I had a bad day I think I buy cause I’m worthess gotta validate and purchase my purpose And coke’s throwin me inna circus of life, liberty and the pursuit of happy times But it's hard to pay your way with nickels and dimes but I can refund this bottle for 5 cents or break it, and it be my defense How does that make sense Now I’m on the fence Do I buy another bottle or a six-pack for the road I don’t really know when it comes to cola-coke coca-cola sugar sweet can’t be beat Will that be debit or credit Our chip reader doesn’t work See you tomorrow Mr. Coke
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70
*Today I poured away my favourite beer for the long awaited tomorrow's already here tomorrow I dust my feet and wipe sweat off my face because finally I've finished running this race tomorrow I bend down to my shoes and free my lace pen and paper down, in honour of the moment I rest my case tomorrow I pat myself in the back and wish myself luck for seemingly bright is a future that was once dungeon dark, After writing the very last word in Human Resource Class tomorrow I'll finally take a deep breath and out, alas! Another beginning for preference of not using new tomorrow I've got tops to pop goat's meat to chew tomorrow I'll dance to the rhythm of momentary serenity I'll shout out loud from a three years' pent up insanity to set free the monsters that had sieged my psyche tomorrow my life changes because I'll start another hike an adventure to nowhere for that's what I call everywhere this life hasn't been my cup of tea, neither has it been my food so tomorrow I say goodbye to calculus, albeit probably not for good I've learnt not to think that the last page means the story is over No! Happily ever after doesn't mean no more rolling in the clover tomorrow for once in my life I shed a tear of relief it wasn't a record breaking hike but I've overcome the cliff tomorrow I credit tension and debit nonchalance I've lost a drink today but I'll make up tomorrow ****** drained and deadbeat till the bone marrow forget the agony of the fateful arrow of sorrow tomorrow I'm the man with the whip, the legend of Zorro A butterfly ready to fly straight out of the cocoon the air caught within an overinflated balloon tomorrow I start sailing the high seas once again in the rocket ship of ambition, space bound shine or rain for this isn't one of those stories of escapes so narrow but one of years in a fortress from whence I get acquitted tomorrow*
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May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
The Long Awaited Tomorrow
*Today I poured away my favourite beer for the long awaited tomorrow's already here tomorrow I dust my feet and wipe sweat off my face because finally I've finished running this race tomorrow I bend down to my shoes and free my lace pen and paper down, in honour of the moment I rest my case tomorrow I pat myself in the back and wish myself luck for seemingly bright is a future that was once dungeon dark, After writing the very last word in Human Resource Class tomorrow I'll finally take a deep breath and out, alas! Another beginning for preference of not using new tomorrow I've got tops to pop goat's meat to chew tomorrow I'll dance to the rhythm of momentary serenity I'll shout out loud from a three years' pent up insanity to set free the monsters that had sieged my psyche tomorrow my life changes because I'll start another hike an adventure to nowhere for that's what I call everywhere this life hasn't been my cup of tea, neither has it been my food so tomorrow I say goodbye to calculus, albeit probably not for good I've learnt not to think that the last page means the story is over No! Happily ever after doesn't mean no more rolling in the clover tomorrow for once in my life I shed a tear of relief it wasn't a record breaking hike but I've overcome the cliff tomorrow I credit tension and debit nonchalance I've lost a drink today but I'll make up tomorrow ****** drained and deadbeat till the bone marrow forget the agony of the fateful arrow of sorrow tomorrow I'm the man with the whip, the legend of Zorro A butterfly ready to fly straight out of the cocoon the air caught within an overinflated balloon tomorrow I start sailing the high seas once again in the rocket ship of ambition, space bound shine or rain for this isn't one of those stories of escapes so narrow but one of years in a fortress from whence I get acquitted tomorrow*
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34
What's inevitable shall come to pass, Go back, rewind rewind rewind But, what's inevitable shall come to pass! Picked up that call, Went for the troll, Never saw the car, You thought was far, Go back rewind rewind rewind But, what's inevitable shall come to pass! Moved out, moved abroad, You didn't get the call, Can now just nod, For she had a terrible fall, Go back rewind rewind rewind But, what's inevitable shall come to pass! Debit credit debit credit, All the while, Monet on her mind All the colours she didn't find, Go back rewind rewind rewind But, what's inevitable shall come to pass Red orange yellow and pink Bride bride Groom Groom Let the new now sink Unsaid dreams though in gloom Go back rewind rewind rewind But, what's inevitable shall come to pass Go back, rewind rewind rewind To the beginning, change it, The tiniest of them all, hit it, Go back rewind rewind rewind, Maybe just maybe, What's inevitable might not come to pass!! - Chetna
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May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 1:02 PM UTC
The Inevitable
Enlighten Me- I’m always underestimating self-master bating- Graduated- At the top of fund frustration- My motivation needs money relations- The contemplation of money making has my mind at a constant hating- My breaking patience- Has my mind like a **** relating- Regulations of all my banking- See my bank account disintegrating- I’m suffocating-making payments-Late fee statements- Debit-Credit-Cash-oking Debit-Credit-Cash-oking Racking bills my back is breaking-my nerves are shaking- Shaking more than I anticipated- Now I’m here with a life to fear- Writing till my mind is clear- Writing till I feel what’s real- Writing till I seal a deal- Multiplying- Adding-Subtracting-and dividing- Signing more checks than providing- It’s suicide I’m not denying-Rhyming trying its crucifying- Clocking in before the sun is rising Grinding flying hoping griming-living life nine to fiving- Its re-revising-Re-defining-Rectifying- More so that I think I’m hiding- Killing with finical violence-Violating my banks alliance- Maxing plastic so fantastic now I need some re-advising-interest rates have a grown man crying-Million dollars seem so un-winding- Now I’m whining- Constant buying- Gas rates got me into biking-riding-fighting- Just surviving-any discount seems so delighting-winning lotto seems o-so-righteous-buy one get one is so exciting- Boot leg buying I ain’t lying- Being broke is constant rewinding-It’s reminding-so relying-over drawing is my new binding-it’s confining-so I’m finding-Making takings of my disliking-Making takings that are so dang freighting-dollar scratchers are so inviting- But this realization is so enlightening- Moving as fast as a bolt of lighting- I’m asking you G-d to help me like this- I’m feeling the pain and I think I might just- ROB ME A BANK- BY: RICHARD ITSKOVICH
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Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 2:57 PM UTC
Enlighten Me-
Enlighten Me- I’m always underestimating self-master bating- Graduated- At the top of fund frustration- My motivation needs money relations- The contemplation of money making has my mind at a constant hating- My breaking patience- Has my mind like a **** relating- Regulations of all my banking- See my bank account disintegrating- I’m suffocating-making payments-Late fee statements- Debit-Credit-Cash-oking Debit-Credit-Cash-oking Racking bills my back is breaking-my nerves are shaking- Shaking more than I anticipated- Now I’m here with a life to fear- Writing till my mind is clear- Writing till I feel what’s real- Writing till I seal a deal- Multiplying- Adding-Subtracting-and dividing- Signing more checks than providing- It’s suicide I’m not denying-Rhyming trying its crucifying- Clocking in before the sun is rising Grinding flying hoping griming-living life nine to fiving- Its re-revising-Re-defining-Rectifying- More so that I think I’m hiding- Killing with finical violence-Violating my banks alliance- Maxing plastic so fantastic now I need some re-advising-interest rates have a grown man crying-Million dollars seem so un-winding- Now I’m whining- Constant buying- Gas rates got me into biking-riding-fighting- Just surviving-any discount seems so delighting-winning lotto seems o-so-righteous-buy one get one is so exciting- Boot leg buying I ain’t lying- Being broke is constant rewinding-It’s reminding-so relying-over drawing is my new binding-it’s confining-so I’m finding-Making takings of my disliking-Making takings that are so dang freighting-dollar scratchers are so inviting- But this realization is so enlightening- Moving as fast as a bolt of lighting- I’m asking you G-d to help me like this- I’m feeling the pain and I think I might just- ROB ME A BANK- BY: RICHARD ITSKOVICH
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41
spot the door through which i walked many a times, an elevated version of Kant about what sort of man you are, beside animals, i can't be a vegetarian in this department - let's just say with one i experienced the trade exhaustion and we just lay there and i kissed her closed eyelids - with another i talked and looked at the pictures of her daughter - with another i jumped into a cold shower while she masturbated herself because she was so **** hot and the cold water felt so refreshing, with another i paid her extra £10 to perform oral *** on her - and with one... the epitome of climbing a mountain... 'that's only the second time it happened to me...' yeah, an ****** on the job; and of course with another the sacred sin of the trade committed, a kiss on the lips; but of course one had to be prone to kleptomania and steal my debit card... i just lied that i lost the card in the park while taking a **** wiping my *** with wet grass; one also took my saracens (rugby team) beanie after i got it off two saracens fans buying them a pint each in a liverpool st. pub.
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Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
https://goo.gl/kyTcAk (the green door)
*** sells and so does sadism sold to bored housewives and professional women breaking through glass ceilings. almost mid-way through the sixth decade of existence on terra firma there is a lot that gnaws away like a locust at the soft underside of consciousness. *** everywhere. and the trap of biology. women illustrated like circus sideshow attractions ride naked on horses through the grimy marketplace of stolen and bankrupt ideas. *** minus monosodium glutamate. you’ll like it better if you’re tressed with plaits of golden silk in a turquoise dungeon. this morning tortured by dreams. a ********** of the mind teasing sunlight on a blasted dais. she’s a ***** worshipped by the masses. madison avenue hollywood the sound of debit cards in the wind. the high art of the american landscape is kim kardashian naked her *** blotting out the sun. while poets drown silently down in the shadow of that wondrous eclipse.
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Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
fifty shades of oblivion
I meant it to be A beautiful moment Now punctuated By wet apostrophes. My possessive nature hangs on high Claiming accountability For the balance of these events. The credit of her salted raindrops Deposited in my heart’s ocean Is a debit of worry In our joint account of emotion. But I know… The morning was still But my blood raced. I placed kisses On her window sills As she opens the gates of her face. To meet her gaze For accepted entrance To the garden of Eden. Though her rivers were flowing My ark was a rubber tree So we forced the dam open Which caused a flood of memories To rush her veins. She turned Eve recalling Adam’s selfish lust In my eyes And locked up. Never expecting that I’d cause The chains of her past to bind her so painfully I stopped. But I know… How she blankets herself In the wounds He inflicted. Like a burn victim Feigning strength When every move hurts. I offered to be a brick house Wherein she can be glass. A fragile rainstorm With cries of thunder. Though she’s the one apologizing I’m the one that feels at fault As I wipe the tears that threaten to stain her pillow. I wash the burning desire for her cavity Out of my soul. This sweet tooth Has crumbled our rites of passion. So in my love, I’ll abstain From hurting her again To soothe the pain She holds firm in her brain.
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Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
Tears After ***
This time is precious, every moment infectious. One minute in a parking lot, parking cigarettes in the dirt, outside a library no less. And from one minute to the next, shaking hands with a councilwoman. Just her presence, was a good omen. This is a community meeting, ahead of a strike, on May 15th. Our fight? Our cause? Wage parity. The resource vitality, of every worker, and every family. Every human deserves dignity. Repeat it with rapidity. We are all created equal. This is a civil rights sequel. You can't survive on $7.93 And if it were up to me, No job would pay less than FIFTEEN. The rich can't inoculate, what they didn't anticipate. Fry cooks, cashiers, drive-thru tellers, (these ain't no "bums" or beggars!) They met up with activists, and labor leaders. They've walked off the job and into the streets! They've come out, to take a stand, to shake off their chains, and make some demands! $15 and a union!!! If you haven't taken notice, I don't what you've been doin!!! I hope McDonald's, Wal-Mart, and retailers galore, value the profit-producers, running their stores. The notion upon which, both capitalists and socialists can agree, is that labor produces value according to theory. The media are watching, in case you need reminding. Watching you rake in BILLIONS, while paying and STEALING, POVERTY WAGES. We call this condition, hard-working ENSLAVEMENT, with pay-as-you-go debit card "paychecks"... And all this "part-time" just to make sure workers are best nickel'd and dime'd!! But what you don't seem to understand, is that this movement is long overdue. Do we need a historical inflation review? And this $10.10 business? Please! What is this 1993? You can't sanitize, Baptize, nor televise, this struggle. These are a people who've had enough. 'Ya Basta!' they say! 'Enough is Enough!' Enough struggle, enough hustle, Enough putting in muscle, and your time, and blood, and sweat and tears, many with children, many for years, without a pay bump that keeps pace, with the basic cost of living these days. Still a minimum wage, of only $7.93?! I say 'Ya Busta!' if you ask me.
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
The Service Sector's #FightFor15
This time is precious, every moment infectious. One minute in a parking lot, parking cigarettes in the dirt, outside a library no less. And from one minute to the next, shaking hands with a councilwoman. Just her presence, was a good omen. This is a community meeting, ahead of a strike, on May 15th. Our fight? Our cause? Wage parity. The resource vitality, of every worker, and every family. Every human deserves dignity. Repeat it with rapidity. We are all created equal. This is a civil rights sequel. You can't survive on $7.93 And if it were up to me, No job would pay less than FIFTEEN. The rich can't inoculate, what they didn't anticipate. Fry cooks, cashiers, drive-thru tellers, (these ain't no "bums" or beggars!) They met up with activists, and labor leaders. They've walked off the job and into the streets! They've come out, to take a stand, to shake off their chains, and make some demands! $15 and a union!!! If you haven't taken notice, I don't what you've been doin!!! I hope McDonald's, Wal-Mart, and retailers galore, value the profit-producers, running their stores. The notion upon which, both capitalists and socialists can agree, is that labor produces value according to theory. The media are watching, in case you need reminding. Watching you rake in BILLIONS, while paying and STEALING, POVERTY WAGES. We call this condition, hard-working ENSLAVEMENT, with pay-as-you-go debit card "paychecks"... And all this "part-time" just to make sure workers are best nickel'd and dime'd!! But what you don't seem to understand, is that this movement is long overdue. Do we need a historical inflation review? And this $10.10 business? Please! What is this 1993? You can't sanitize, Baptize, nor televise, this struggle. These are a people who've had enough. 'Ya Basta!' they say! 'Enough is Enough!' Enough struggle, enough hustle, Enough putting in muscle, and your time, and blood, and sweat and tears, many with children, many for years, without a pay bump that keeps pace, with the basic cost of living these days. Still a minimum wage, of only $7.93?! I say 'Ya Busta!' if you ask me.
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I would like you all to buy my novel's eBook @ www.amazon.com/dp/aw/B00MYY0DMA/ or www.amazon.in/dp/aw/B00MYY0DMA/ which is the link to my novel's eBook. Its title is 7 Seconds which has sold around 20 copies by now with positive reviews by its few readers. A Facebook fan page at www.facebook.com/7SecondsAKS has already gathered a large following just from the introduction. You'll need a credit card or an internationally enabled debit card for this purpose. After the extremely serious accident on 7th of May in 2010 which had me on the brink of dying a comatose death, I'm in a transition from my bachelor's degree to a master degree. I need to independently bear my medical expenses. The story is awesome and is definitely going to impress you. 7 Seconds is a novel that contains many story-related poems. It is a fast paced story of more than 100,000 words which traces its origins from my real life and is then entirely a fiction. It has the flavours of teen fiction, romance novel, sci-fi, spirituality, anti-terrorism, tourism and the unmistakable tangy Desi flavour of India. Trust my word. Buy the fabulous story. I couldn't get it published in hard copy because of the corrupt Indian system which also has entangled the youth of India. If you like my poems, you are going to love my novel. In today's date, hard copy of a novel is both taxing on the Environment and the buyer. An eBook is not only far more economical and greener than a conventional novel but also it is more easily accessible on a handheld device. All I can say is that I request you to do your bit both for the environment, and also for your beloved poet who wants to bear his medical expenses on his own till his studies get completed.
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
7 Seconds
I would like you all to buy my novel's eBook @ www.amazon.com/dp/aw/B00MYY0DMA/ or www.amazon.in/dp/aw/B00MYY0DMA/ which is the link to my novel's eBook. Its title is 7 Seconds which has sold around 20 copies by now with positive reviews by its few readers. A Facebook fan page at www.facebook.com/7SecondsAKS has already gathered a large following just from the introduction. You'll need a credit card or an internationally enabled debit card for this purpose. After the extremely serious accident on 7th of May in 2010 which had me on the brink of dying a comatose death, I'm in a transition from my bachelor's degree to a master degree. I need to independently bear my medical expenses. The story is awesome and is definitely going to impress you. 7 Seconds is a novel that contains many story-related poems. It is a fast paced story of more than 100,000 words which traces its origins from my real life and is then entirely a fiction. It has the flavours of teen fiction, romance novel, sci-fi, spirituality, anti-terrorism, tourism and the unmistakable tangy Desi flavour of India. Trust my word. Buy the fabulous story. I couldn't get it published in hard copy because of the corrupt Indian system which also has entangled the youth of India. If you like my poems, you are going to love my novel. In today's date, hard copy of a novel is both taxing on the Environment and the buyer. An eBook is not only far more economical and greener than a conventional novel but also it is more easily accessible on a handheld device. All I can say is that I request you to do your bit both for the environment, and also for your beloved poet who wants to bear his medical expenses on his own till his studies get completed.
Continue reading...
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