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"greenback" poems
We live in a society were the physical world shadows the metaphysical. We live in a society were money precedes life. Students are broke(n) like the loans that imprison them. Death and taxes are inevitable, but it seems that taxes are more of a threat then death itself. The greenback alludes us into becoming vicious consumers praying on the wealth of others. We live in a society turned upside down. Broke(n).
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
Broke(n)
*The cordons of existence are constricting For the keepers of the dream have let us down, Who will buy tomorrow if performances are hollow Causing all the global spectators to frown? American has been the silk pyjamas Since ’45 they’ve lead the world’s display In health and wealth and brandishing the muscle But in recent times it seems they’ve seen their day. For since Clinton’s time the National debt has spiralled They’ve departed brushfire wars in disarray, Default now looms obscene with disharmony supreme With Congressional leaders ranting in the fray. The fiasco of a Government held to ransom By a faction of extremist’s from the right, Whilst the greenback in decline won’t change water into wine The dire threat of fiscal chaos causes fright. So global confidence is fading in the dollar And the watchers shake their heads in blank despair, For the willingness to follow is now a bitter pill to swallow When the USA’s rock steadiness aint’ there. So, what’s around the corner for tomorrow? What aspirants are waiting in the wings? With a fading USA perhaps it’s China’s turn to play Though that’s going to mean adjustments made to things. Of course we’re venturing into territory’s unchartered And the crystal ball consulted, isn’t clear But one thing I can assure, if this is what we must endure, Is that our tomorrows will be something, now, to fear.* Marshalg Auckland N.Z. 19 October 2013
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Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
Pygmalion
springtime in the rockies is filled with such delight eagles fly round moutain tops such a lovely sight mountains you can climb underneath the sun climbing oh so high having lots of fun lots of different things there for you to do lots of lovely sights there for you to view there are  grizzly bear and the elk and moose coyote and the deer running free and loose lots of different creatures the greenback toad and trout lots of things in ponds swimming all about such a lovely place with lots of things to see springtime in the rockies is where i long to be
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
rockies springtime
So lunch is on me then eh? lips suitably pursed, pinkie raised to the correct angle, she sits and sips the last dregs of life she's squeeezzed outta me- a fitting accompaniment to the thick slice o' succulent wallet she's so elegantly carved out of my *** dripping with greenback, for those blessed with perfect diction, her lawyer comments on the tenderness of my sauteed sweetbread, "hummmm a little stringy, but ever so nourishingly juicy". as he pours the remnants of my self esteem on to his final bill... alan nettleton
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Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 8:27 PM UTC
"- So lunch is on me then eh -"?
Greenland's not for sale Greenland's melting Green forests burning Greenback flooding Greed and fear ablaze fed and preyed upon by AI Chosen by the wicked but snubbed, the King sulked
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 11:17 PM UTC
Greenland
early morning, with cup of kenyan blend. i step outside, to meet my day. all soft, misty drizzle. cocooning the view, to the koi pond and slick driveway. stepping stones, are soft wet coins on greenback lawn. dewed and glistening new. the last of the snapdragons, weep in bright tears of beauty. the portulaci have closed their faces to the world, to await the returning sun. in the pond, the koi swim, and glide like solar flashes caught while bathing. bright moving wonder on the colourless day and as i watch the surface becomes hypnotic as water drops create ring,bisecting ring, bisecting ring. concentricity, most exquisite. the smell of jasmine eucalypt and coffee mix and mingle with exhaust and salted iodine. sound is muted. birds, whisper this morning. even the kookaburras call, in stuttering short chuckles. the sea, so close, is but a murmur, a chinese whisper on the frail wind. the small grey cat, comes to sit with me nose, aquiver, ears swiveling to and fro. a pause before, harrumphing and stalking back into the dry, cosy, warmth. i soon follow.... leaving the day, to it's softness.
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
outside my front door
they fell from a tolleycroft trawler (about a mile off the gary dock) tossed in a bottlenose gulf stream partially pasted on ruk and crustacean belly ******* ragged fender bent rolling drifting on krill chop past o' malleys down juan de fuca rubbing grain into the gun barrel sea twisted benjamins nipped by the hungry swell blunt on a wayward log deep in the gutty storm slack jaw, skinned medling over phosphorescence and grayling and cold erratic flow (oh those seedy finman!) driftwood gorge at celebration light sun carts rise to the homecoming **** that nuisance moon!)* crimson tide and contraband strung on the greyhound intervention essentials with menacing roots these crackers lack all disposition and tact an enemy mask lies deep within blinded rodmen on a shoreline retreat where the franklin bills are spinning
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Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC
Greenback
I am from silly sisters, full time moms, and missing dads From Mexican Railroaders and southern slavers I am from cramming in and spreading out From jumping on the bed and sleeping on the sheet I am from kitten toys and a purple piggy bank From P.B. cookies and B+s on the fridge[b] I am from Stam Chocolate From pizza pie and spaghetti piled high I am from Birthday Girl picks dinner From salad dressing bottles and sweet Maine summers I am from squishy black cat dolls From the Time Out Chair and Bear Chair Fights I am from homemade pants that can't be beat From "Greenback Dollar" and "Unclouded Days" I am from "Stand up and be counted" From the Girl Scout Promise and Law I am from all these things and more My poem never ending
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Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
I am from
-on a contemporary religion: https://youtu.be/FDZmTXkwcNA Kneel in the sun, count your money Clutch 'm for the summer breeze Hotter than hell is counting your money While greenback devils grin from the trees Let a hailstorm touch the roof's gutter Like piano keys hit by a fool Now you hear what you want to hear Casino's cash machines finally deliver Let the days disappear forever Let the night get as dark as can be There is a shiny silver dollar there Beaming mercilessly at you and me
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May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 10:13 AM UTC
The new revolutionaries
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all, Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all, Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all, Danger Mouse with his side kick Ernest Penfold, the nerdy hamster, The per defeat their arch enemy Baron Silas Von Greenback, Week after week, Danger Mouse and Ernest Penfold save the world, Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all, Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all, Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all.
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Jul 19, 2020
Jul 19, 2020 at 12:58 PM UTC
Danger Mouse
I found you in parks, camped out in libraries bus depots we shared road stories, **** food, and whatever we had stuffed in our pants, forbidden by the man you came from everywhere and were going nowhere--except California a million dreams after Steinbeck's hordes plodded west, desperate to find the fruit but you were in search of grapes without the wrath: there weren't any you came and went   some succumbing to the needle others to the bottle, and more to the winds which whisked you to another park bench, another all night diner, in another dead, gray city I stuck around, earned, or stole, greenback dollars built red brick houses, had children and wives   and almost forgot your scent now, mostly when the lights are out, I add the years of your evaporating biographies and realize so few of you remain, to walk our flat earth
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Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 8:06 PM UTC
bus stop ghosts
That morning in 12-step Heart filled with remorse Why had her life taken This punishing course Why had she been given These trials and this pain More sorrow than gladness More dry spell…than rain She felt undeserving God’s love or His care So much of her past life Just hadn’t been fair Disabled and damaged Distressed and abused Would He ever welcome A daughter this bruised Then the leader held up A ten dollar bill It was torn on one edge with A syrupy spill Who wants it he asked them Will anyone here Accept this old ten spot That’s stained in root beer He didn’t seem startled When each hand raised high And each one called ‘I will’ In synchronized cry Then taking the greenback He crumpled it tight And stomped to the carpet With all of his might Then once more he asked them An arch in his brow While holding it forward Well, how about now? It’s ***** and wrinkled Do any of you Still want this ten dollars With all it’s been through? Again each hand raised up And each one said 'yes' Each one understanding It wasn’t worth less In spite of its treatment It hadn’t decreased In what it could buy them No, not…in the least So now my dear sisters Their leader explained Each one in this classroom’s Been rumpled and stained Each one has experienced The struggles of earth But none has diminished In what she was worth Each one has been damaged And each one is flawed But the worth of each sister Is precious to God The Savior’s atonement Is proof of that fact For God sent Him down to Make up what each lacked He sent someone perfect To save someone not Which makes you all priceless Despite what you’ve thought That night she was dreaming And listened enthralled To angelic voices Then heard her name called 'Who wants her?' was broadcast Will anyone here Accept her into this Celestial sphere? No one seem startled When two from on high Said they would accept her In synchronized cry Then once more the angel An arch in his brow While showing her earth life Asked 'how about now? She’s been both a victim And transgressor, too Are you sure that you want her With all she’s been through?' Again both the Father And Son called out 'yes' Each one demonstrating She wasn’t worth less In spite of life’s treatment Her worth hadn’t decreased To two such as they were No, not…in the least
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Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
The Ten Dollar Bill
That morning in 12-step Heart filled with remorse Why had her life taken This punishing course Why had she been given These trials and this pain More sorrow than gladness More dry spell…than rain She felt undeserving God’s love or His care So much of her past life Just hadn’t been fair Disabled and damaged Distressed and abused Would He ever welcome A daughter this bruised Then the leader held up A ten dollar bill It was torn on one edge with A syrupy spill Who wants it he asked them Will anyone here Accept this old ten spot That’s stained in root beer He didn’t seem startled When each hand raised high And each one called ‘I will’ In synchronized cry Then taking the greenback He crumpled it tight And stomped to the carpet With all of his might Then once more he asked them An arch in his brow While holding it forward Well, how about now? It’s ***** and wrinkled Do any of you Still want this ten dollars With all it’s been through? Again each hand raised up And each one said 'yes' Each one understanding It wasn’t worth less In spite of its treatment It hadn’t decreased In what it could buy them No, not…in the least So now my dear sisters Their leader explained Each one in this classroom’s Been rumpled and stained Each one has experienced The struggles of earth But none has diminished In what she was worth Each one has been damaged And each one is flawed But the worth of each sister Is precious to God The Savior’s atonement Is proof of that fact For God sent Him down to Make up what each lacked He sent someone perfect To save someone not Which makes you all priceless Despite what you’ve thought That night she was dreaming And listened enthralled To angelic voices Then heard her name called 'Who wants her?' was broadcast Will anyone here Accept her into this Celestial sphere? No one seem startled When two from on high Said they would accept her In synchronized cry Then once more the angel An arch in his brow While showing her earth life Asked 'how about now? She’s been both a victim And transgressor, too Are you sure that you want her With all she’s been through?' Again both the Father And Son called out 'yes' Each one demonstrating She wasn’t worth less In spite of life’s treatment Her worth hadn’t decreased To two such as they were No, not…in the least
Continue reading...
96
Get on with your Bad self Go on with your Hustle Into the bustle And the gristle Briskly Frisky Grizzly world... Go 'head find and get that paper Let your greenback wings unfurl Telling you who to be Made So dapper... Go Rise above But still only talking 'Bout That Unfathomable Love Still wrapping The turkey in a noose Letting bullets loose For hundred dollar shoes Shoes! Shoo sure 'nuf! Time to wake up / this close to the Sun Wax in' & Flossin' Ill prepared to Rise above Pretending to exude The same kind Of Love... You Go'ne now... You Dawg you - A "g" N-word y'heard in Everythang We trust Go'ne muss it up! I just must know (My boo) Didn't you? Give the World This Life Much Love? Fire in the sky... Fallen Too high At dusk... gone to fly into the eye (Cush)
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May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 1:45 AM UTC
Icarus Cush
beer tickets bread bucks cake cash cheddar coin cream currency dinar dosh dough folding stuff funds geld gelt greenback jack legal tender lolly means moolah lucre paper pennies readies sheets shrapnel simoleons spends sterling wonga This is all money And I got so much pity Not for those that don't have any They still got Life But for those that are greedy.
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May 19, 2021
May 19, 2021 at 6:42 AM UTC
Moola
In between notebooks writing on the back of bank statement envelopes My money would be in wise temperance if I didn't haunt auctions for cursed instruments I got a bargain baglama in route from Greece it's just the chase the replacement of writing songs and hard work I could at least join the fox hunts but don't forget coming from those that are forced to hunt Sometimes envious of that pressure again but don't resent cause it's just weakness What I can't force myself to emulate the neo-Malthusianism of my anointed material condition ________________________________________________________ I'm back at it running out of space Might have to switch to that student loan refinancing scheme from Chase I won't even open it cause I'm just waiting for society to value education as a better use of time than bailing out bankers gambling on the backs of the poor and middle class that take all the risk You swindle their paycheck and taxes too Worshiping at the alter of the greenback printer Sell your grandma and your grandchildren's future ___________________________________________________________ I think I ran out of unimportant mail to write upon I need to do my taxes so I can stop stressing about hoarding unopened letters I'm afraid I'll find some catastrophe like a disease or a stolen identity There's too much to fear in the 21st century Yes, how weird there's no aristocratic family lording over my plot of land I'm not even a renter anymore except to the bank and I get my food from multi-national global kings Much less personal than the ****** that used to rule our lives Now they're depersonalized into the corporate body Escaping heaven's mandate I suppose Through layer and layer of fabric reality the market, democracy, technology is the belief that this whole world is fake Ascribing deity to digital creators Bad faith actors Pretending it's other than profit you desire "Profit's just a means" but you need more means to make more means What's the real product you're peddling? Do you not have pride beyond the money making aspect? Why do you highlight such shortsightedness?
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Jan 25, 2023
Jan 25, 2023 at 11:04 PM UTC
8 of Wands
In between notebooks writing on the back of bank statement envelopes My money would be in wise temperance if I didn't haunt auctions for cursed instruments I got a bargain baglama in route from Greece it's just the chase the replacement of writing songs and hard work I could at least join the fox hunts but don't forget coming from those that are forced to hunt Sometimes envious of that pressure again but don't resent cause it's just weakness What I can't force myself to emulate the neo-Malthusianism of my anointed material condition ________________________________________________________ I'm back at it running out of space Might have to switch to that student loan refinancing scheme from Chase I won't even open it cause I'm just waiting for society to value education as a better use of time than bailing out bankers gambling on the backs of the poor and middle class that take all the risk You swindle their paycheck and taxes too Worshiping at the alter of the greenback printer Sell your grandma and your grandchildren's future ___________________________________________________________ I think I ran out of unimportant mail to write upon I need to do my taxes so I can stop stressing about hoarding unopened letters I'm afraid I'll find some catastrophe like a disease or a stolen identity There's too much to fear in the 21st century Yes, how weird there's no aristocratic family lording over my plot of land I'm not even a renter anymore except to the bank and I get my food from multi-national global kings Much less personal than the ****** that used to rule our lives Now they're depersonalized into the corporate body Escaping heaven's mandate I suppose Through layer and layer of fabric reality the market, democracy, technology is the belief that this whole world is fake Ascribing deity to digital creators Bad faith actors Pretending it's other than profit you desire "Profit's just a means" but you need more means to make more means What's the real product you're peddling? Do you not have pride beyond the money making aspect? Why do you highlight such shortsightedness?
Continue reading...
52
Icarus Kush /by: Butch Decatoria Get on with your Bad self Go on with your Hustle Into the bustle And the gristle Briskly Frisky Grizzly world... Go 'head find and get that paper Let your greenback wings unfurl Telling you who to be Made So dapper... Go Rise above But still only talking 'Bout what don't matter, The Unfathomable Kind of Love. Still wrapping The turkey in a noose Letting bullets loose For hundred dollar shoes Shoes! Shoot sure 'nuf! Time to wake up / this close to the Sun Waxin' & Flossin' Ill prepared to Rise above Pretending to exude The same kind Of Love... You Go'ne now... You Dawg you - A "g" N-word y'heard in Everythang We trust Go'ne muss it up! I just must know (My boo) Didn't you? Give the World This Life Much Love? Fire in the sky... Fallen Too high At dusk. Gone to fly into the Eye... (Kush)
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Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 7:47 AM UTC
Icarus Kush