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"gdp" poems
Dragon – a reference to government or a leader with such great powers. Economics can determine the future? The decision making, which can force millions to abide to the law established by government, can determine the future. That’s it. An extension of affluence for all, But where is the long term? Poverty and high unemployment, Now an argument? With two years to educational progress, Juan Dela Cruz drew back and recoil. Humankind’s race, With such declining economies.. A need for taxation of the working classTo stay number one, or should I say, the Top 10? For those capable to success, No full-time salaries.. No livable wage.. A further education.. Would it be worth it when a full-time was offered? For the move of the dragon, Is there a downgrade forecast for the nation? GDP has been calculated, water dragon may not be drown.. Meagre realm’s tyro – for their incomes deduction. (4/2/12 @xirlleelang)
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Philippines, Is There A Hope for the Year of the Water Dragon?
see no evil. turn your blind eye away from the ****** assault victim. hear no evil. do not listen to mother earth cry. speak no evil. when you justify polluting the planet with your GDP, and give racism power with your silent complicity. hear no evil. turn up your distractions to quiet the disapproving shouts of the whole world. see no evil. believe the images of brown skin children locked in cages for profit are fake news. you don’t heed their suffering. speak no evil. because in america, other languages shan’t be heard. you’re the monkey, and monkeys don’t ask questions. be not evil ?
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Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 11:01 PM UTC
the monkey
America-- you’re about as inspiring as vanilla ice cream puddled in the summer sun a damp dishrag, america, you can’t clean up the mess you are. Your subjects, or should I say, Objects-- your agency bereft gdp drones-- they hanker, they brood like a syst; they’re ****** vacuoles: private, malignant, caverns of capital your pride? starving children, dying cities? it’s a grand ole’ flag, you pathetic **** How about considering this: The people, inside your prisons? They’re free. The people outside? minions, hackneyed excuse for existence, and pestilence. the ones who know oppression are free, and the ones oppressing do not know. that’s why I love you, America. You are what humanity needs; a slow, painful drain on our existence. Consciousness slowly being ignited and swallowed, only to be ******* out and flushed away. You, america, are a popcorn bag popping in the microwave, left on for too long. You can’t expand any further, and you taste like cancer. America, you are beautiful, and the death you bring tastes like lime flavored popsicles that we lick to take away the taste of reality. Your society is a cattle car, for the mind, and your messages burn the body when it gets there.
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Jun 18, 2011
Jun 18, 2011 at 9:03 PM UTC
The last day of Spring, 2011
Will there be a time when All this technology ends When the screens go down We all mute the sound Will we return to a time Not forged in financial design When the ROI and the GDP Big money banks we no longer see Or the interest rates and credit lines Hidden fees and holdback fines And tell them, when I turn my shoulders to the night, I sent you to discuss the market's yield's human right
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Oct 11, 2020
Oct 11, 2020 at 9:10 PM UTC
Will there be a time when...
Your subjectless Objects of capital, the agency bereft GDP drones, O! America, They are spilled on the pavement, an upturned ice cream cone of discontent puddled and lackadaisical, they fester beside the hydrant. Your news agencies and malls, the damp dishrags of industry, snagged on the nail of defenselessness and exploitation, only infect the wound. Each mess of a person, walks through the sugary malaise of your suffering dragging it on to the next in communal forbearing; its contagion, its disease is so many cysts on the mind of those syrupy vacuoles for capital; the private, malignant caverns of dewy-eyed trust in humanity, insipidly drawing the rancor to a boil, without understanding a thing. You pride yourself on much, without eyes for the condition of your people, O! America. People, shackled in your jails, are so many ideas bubbling as to the cruelty of your nature punctured by the ignorance outside. Draped in your obnoxious flag, the cites are as malicious as the countryside, toward life, toward knowledge. You prop-up the price of their crops, the know-not-whys, who plunder the earth to prolong population growth and consciousness-decline. America, you eradicate discontent with cattle cars, filled with questioning life forms, gasing our minds and burning our bodies with your arrogance. Like a popcorn bag steaming in the microwave; you have been left alone too long, and have developed a flame-- an inextinguishable flame of reason. You have been disavowed too LITTLE. You must not be allowed to expand any further, lest the impoverished bag of flesh which is mankind will burst. But still you stagnate, until your violence curdles with drones and bombs patrolling our synapses. Our brains digest your violence against us and **** it out with an abused dialect of greed and hate. Then you ask us only that we eat from your refuse heap of burnt kernels from the “truth” of market economy. You taste like cancer. You rot the mouth of competent men, and satiate the anxieties of those who would turn against you-- with a refreshing ice cream cone of absentmindedness dropped on the ground and melting. But the stains you made will always taint the sidewalk of man.
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Jun 20, 2011
Jun 20, 2011 at 12:26 AM UTC
The Coming Summer
Your subjectless Objects of capital, the agency bereft GDP drones, O! America, They are spilled on the pavement, an upturned ice cream cone of discontent puddled and lackadaisical, they fester beside the hydrant. Your news agencies and malls, the damp dishrags of industry, snagged on the nail of defenselessness and exploitation, only infect the wound. Each mess of a person, walks through the sugary malaise of your suffering dragging it on to the next in communal forbearing; its contagion, its disease is so many cysts on the mind of those syrupy vacuoles for capital; the private, malignant caverns of dewy-eyed trust in humanity, insipidly drawing the rancor to a boil, without understanding a thing. You pride yourself on much, without eyes for the condition of your people, O! America. People, shackled in your jails, are so many ideas bubbling as to the cruelty of your nature punctured by the ignorance outside. Draped in your obnoxious flag, the cites are as malicious as the countryside, toward life, toward knowledge. You prop-up the price of their crops, the know-not-whys, who plunder the earth to prolong population growth and consciousness-decline. America, you eradicate discontent with cattle cars, filled with questioning life forms, gasing our minds and burning our bodies with your arrogance. Like a popcorn bag steaming in the microwave; you have been left alone too long, and have developed a flame-- an inextinguishable flame of reason. You have been disavowed too LITTLE. You must not be allowed to expand any further, lest the impoverished bag of flesh which is mankind will burst. But still you stagnate, until your violence curdles with drones and bombs patrolling our synapses. Our brains digest your violence against us and **** it out with an abused dialect of greed and hate. Then you ask us only that we eat from your refuse heap of burnt kernels from the “truth” of market economy. You taste like cancer. You rot the mouth of competent men, and satiate the anxieties of those who would turn against you-- with a refreshing ice cream cone of absentmindedness dropped on the ground and melting. But the stains you made will always taint the sidewalk of man.
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The economy is horrible Hillary is horrible, Her husband disagrees with her, so does Bernie, women are horrible, me, I'm deplorable, but NO ONE respects 'em more than I do & I mean nobody yeah just grab 'em by the ***** though you'll never find a quote that I said, Mexicans are a problem too, so we're gonna make a bunch of money, build a wall, no limits on assault weapons, be friends with Putin, sleep wid' him...hehe, I gotta plan, make America great again, build a really BIG wall have 105% GDP they say, I don't believe 'em, they're liars, so is Hillary, she's a nasty, nasty woman, I may or may not except the election results, I'm.gonna keep you in the dark, sure I'm gonna be a great president, I run an amazing company, don't know **** about politics, but run it my way and we're all sure to go to hell in a handbasket. *** Say WHAT? I don't think so, Deplorable man, Emotional infant. Such a big bafoon, yes he's dangerous, we can't let it happen, & that hair, Seriously, I can't even go there. Ma Cherie © 2016
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Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
The "Debate"
daft as the last 3 things you said, I don't question much aside from life. in how many sentences could I make a reference to an old French poet to illustrate to you how little sense Albert Camus makes seeing as I have yet to go to university? You'd think the sand clocked in his socks from all those summers spent in Algier's would have consumed much more than background or 'home is where the heart is.' the right mind is the right heart is the home is the everywhere you go. in a world where 'I-Ching' and 'cha-ching' are context insofar as bookstores, I doubt much and question little, money is dharma too. dharma I wish to burn because my hate for money is dharma. back-flip. slightly arrested in development is the faculty of spirit in GDP, at least the lion still roams the Savannah and at least I can explore the lion. My New Years resolution is 1080p. what's yours?
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Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 1:41 AM UTC
as little and as much as and
They flip out if One "owes" them a Thousand Dollars but they don't do **** about our $11,959,000,000,000 deficit (or about 75% of the GDP) except raise the debt ceiling and shut down day-to-day processes thus letting functionality grind to a halt so they can still afford to pay themselves their precious and exorbitant salaries, whilst every-fucking-thing else deteriorates by the minute and is foreclosed upon. **I think that we as a Nation should instate that Politicians are unable to pay themselves until we have a surplus of money with which to reward them for their keen, honest, wise and diligent* (get this: ) *Public Service; *rather than allowing them to serve themselves well above the supposed "Land of the Free" they supposedly represent supposedly so selflessly.* The System is ****** for us, as citizens; though it works exactly as designed for those holding the marionette strings.**
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Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
The System is ****** it works as designed.
We shall speak, and by speaking loudly and fervently enough, we shall be heard. We shall be heard, and by being heard, we will be dismissed as the lost denizens of a failing society. We shall be dismissed, and by being dismissed, we shall not disappear quietly into the night as our forerunners have done. We shall be branded "Communists" & "Traitors", and in doing so we shall aquire the attentions of those we aim to educate. We shall not be silenced, and by refusing to be marginalized into a portion of "freaks and outcasts", we shall be known. We shall not be paid off or coerced into "negotiations", and by maintaining unity, we shall be outlawed. We shall not accept the scorn of those whose power seems unassailable, and in so doing, we shall be feared. We shall not accept platitudes and half measures as answers to our grievances, and in so doing, we will be persecuted. We shall not accept a world where our worth as human beings is measured by GDP, and in doing so, we will become that which we seek. We shall not accept that "Some people are better than others", rather, we KNOW that liberty is born from knowledge. We shall speak, and by speaking, be heard, and by being heard, we will effect change, and by effecting change, we will be victorious.
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Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
We Shall Speak
The problem with emotions is that they aren't backed in gold It doesn't matter how much you have, how great your GDP is or who's on the bank note. It doesn't matter. Without a gold standard your notes are just paper to others. You're one economic crash from having all of your worth becoming valueless to other countries. There is no exchange rate. it doesn't matter how many marks you have after that war. Everything you have, all that you're worth and all your desires, can't buy **** They are now only good for burning and keeping you warm. Because emotions aren't backed in gold, their only guaranteed value is in yourself.
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Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
Emotions Aren't Backed in Gold
Gods in the great marketplace thunder down shiny aisles shopping cart war chariots wheels wobble and screech scarring waxed white tiles. Collide with metallic clash as child in basket screams they race toward piles of heaven on sale 19.99, or two for one. The gods at war not for the last morsel of food but for the last discount TV or gaming console on holy Black Friday. Thanksgiving now just a day of feasting and rest before the annual battle. Sacrifices must be made: a child trampled, a neck tazed, eyes pepper sprayed. Minimum wage slaves hungry for holiday pay crushed at the gates upon altars of GDP. Wide eyed crowds stand hands held high, screens aglow filming the spectacle of combat, the shoving, the victors wrestling precious boxes like battle standards from grasping fingers. Let the world adopt our customs, kneel at our sacred altars. Look how mighty we have become!
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May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 11:26 PM UTC
Gods at War