"millionaires" poems
She is equipped with sensitive *******
and those other secret places
that ladies give out as prizes
to deserving guys as long as
they adopt the right disguises
of gods, gurus, intellectual giants,
goats, children, father figures, macho brutes,
sugar-daddies, supermen, seminal vessels,
house-repairers, jar openers, jocks, hate objects,
handy shoulders to cry on, emotional support systems,
sensitive, intuitive, yet strong silent types
who can also pay the bills,
tall dark and handsome total strangers,
toy boys, clowns, jugglers, jokers, millionaires,
wood choppers, ******* removers,
bottomless reservoirs of reassurance
or just plain spunky studs when the moon is right.
In fact, anything but woffly wimps.
Oh God, no. Anything but woffly wimps.
Yes, but what about stoic, steadfast SNAGS,
you know, the Sensitive New Age Guys
who won’t face-shift for a ****
Yes, well, let's try to sum all this up here right now.
I think that the woman is dripping
with a brimming reservoir
of luscious and sensitive resources on tap for
the man who can figure out her cosmic kaleidoscope
of swirling dreams and desires,
which is definitely not to say she can’t be totally independent.
Although please don't be confused.
Friendly boy-next-door types who are handsome,
aren't too hairy, who like to laugh, who have a boyish braggadocio,
who are students, who appear to be intellectuals,
who are not nerds,
and who can **** it in the kitchen, who can be oh, so cool,
who can convince a maiden that she is in distress,
and is in need of rescuing, while he has
a swaggering hard-on will do, too.
Oooh. You devil.
And if you think this poem is misogynist, misanthropic or myopic,
well, I’ve been around and by now, well,
I really should be panoptic
because I’ve seen all the fads,
and really, it’s sadly too bad
about those poor old
earnest SNAGS.
But you know what?
I don't think I understand anything, because
I'm really a victim of worshiping women.
I'm bedazzled and as blind as the next man, and
yes,
I'm just happy whenever I'm with them.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
12.6k
That genuine smile of yours delicate and mild,
Can soothe senses and tempers gone wild.
A raging storm with ease you can calm,
That smile of yours is ever so warm.
It takes you only a few seconds to flex those ****** muscles,
To brighten the days of millions amongst all the hustle, bustle and tussles.
Your smile is so priceless and pure,
For it all pain one can endure.
It’s like the rays from a billion suns shining bright,
Dazzling and sparkling like the brightest light.
It gives that extra glow to your face,
Making everyone’s heart beat race.
It’s like the most pricey jewel one could admire,
Among millions it could spark a burning desire.
Every smile you pass is like a treasure,
Making the few lucky, millionaires for sure.
But when you frown in the saddest of ways,
It’s like the happiness in the world has gone out of gaze.
Dark clouds fill the overhead sky,
Rain starts pouring as the heavens begin to cry.
It’s like the world hits a note so low,
Their happiness takes that heavy blow.
An empty feeling fills the hearts of those,
Who once with your smile happily would rose.
So smile because the world smiles with you,
Cry and the world sobs with you too.
Times may get you down in life,
But don't give up the strife.
Don't let those pearls from your eyes fall,
For someone or something who wasn't worth it after all.
So keep smiling day in and day out,
And brighten the lives of those you move about...
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 12:57 PM UTC
me? these days?
i have to bribe bonsai tigers
to fall asleep by giving them
excess treats,
drink myself to a limit
and then take insomnia tablets,
glance at the stars
and gag up a bolshevik black hole,
think about russian
newly-wed millionaires
spending so mcuh the taxes go up,
testifying: well when the full circus
with elephants and missing acrobats
comes... and there's no french revolution
versace... we're in bigger crap
we thought we were...
so i took to peddling, keeping heart
rate with feeling rather than
a heart-rate keeper on the wrist known
as apple / iWank...
you'll never believe the amount
of creativity that comes from Onan...
it's like that story of onan and samson
like it's that story of cain and abel...
you'd have to be a mozart to find a creative
continuum in women rather than
beethoven in the hive of being deaf...
say rich and thus say spend...
say poor and thus say like a primate
with two flint stones... what the hell is this?!
japanese crow reduced their beak for
nut crushing purposes into a car tire.
FIRE! FIRE! PROMETHEUS!
so came the world favouring thought
from prometheus' liver
when in diaper-shelter postman pat delivery
by a stork... but each of us that got the slit
of liver never claimed origins in the apple
adam ******* out when eve forgot
that satan's singularity was expressed in
a pluralism: eat this apple, depilate,
and you and adam will be like the gods...
but then the metrosexual emerged
with shaved legs and a shaved chest...
down the drain that dream went:
as long as you eat the apple and know
you have hairy legs... i'm sure whatever you
say he will be ordained with pleasure to perform...
eve - i need a hammer
adam - here babe
eve - i need a nail
adam - here babe
eve - i need five planks of wood, four legs one like an abdomen
adam - here babe
eve - mash it up
adam - hey babe, what's that?
eve - a ****** table, tapestry for porcelain!
adam - woah! that's great!
eve to god - this adam is a ****** robot!
satan to eve - well... get ready for ******
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Millionaires in empty boxes
barricaded in bath robes.
Self-righteous sundries
sit still for that sunset they'll
never see, like "Layla" playing
with a gang of good fellas.
The trench took a bit, but
they're not worried. It will be
filled-in still-lifes well before
wives find out. Tough love
rises above the rest; especially
when you're pumping hot lead.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
Screaming
What's the use----??
Flower of the Graces
"The Tenth Muse"
"Everyday Use It"
The earth revolves
Around the sun
Minerals Love it
Drink it vitamin C
Mass of energy A-B-C
The gravity every day
We cannot use it_
Became the play money
Copied tainted not the
Bee's honey here's
The everyday economy
One lick of hope the
envelope not much
company
Everyday- Einsteins
Big profit scope
The brainstorm Reign
All signs detour cabin
Choo Choo train caboose
You nailed it the moose
One footloose
The one-man show
Two women know
The odds to their
advantage
Someone is the traitor
Mom is the Tailor
The zigzag lines
Crazy cat felines
"That's It" punctuality,
Use your capability
"Technet Technology"
take a walk favorite park
Shiba Inu rollover
The bad ones the
Millionaires homes
flip over the do
or dare
We cannot pay
NYC token fare
Words are our power
For Sale quick sales
Being sold
Too hot whats cold
Those emails trying
to delete
(More casualties
Tombstone mummies
Democracy leading us like
dummies chewing Bear
Valentine gummies)
Like the "Elephant Stampede"
New Orleans parade
Every day please donate
We never know about
our fate too early or late
Every day new Providence
Demon computer virus
Love comes with confidence
Love yourself and Venus
Apples and oranges minus
Use it You have a voice!!!
City clean up cockroaches
Swap your fake Rolex
Watchtower index
Trump tower complex
"Eiffel Tower Use It" to be kissed
Every day we need to cleanse
The "Godly Shower" be blessed
Practical Everday Use It
Magical write poetically
Precisely the right piece puzzle
You are the one
World it's you to dazzle*
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 9:54 AM UTC
Only ONE RACE
the HUMAN RACE.
The dividers
and conquerors
all trying to convince you
otherwise.
And they are
NEVER
on the frontlines.
They
manipulate
you
stirring up
emotions
hatred.
That people should die
for the mistakes
of the few.
God hates those who stir up strife.
The only
so-called
winners
are the manipulators
the millionaires and billionaires...
those who orchestrate
the mess
who PAY people
TO HATE...
turning them into mercenaries
MERCENARY
HATERS
AND
MURDERERS
and NOT for the reasons
they think.
The ORCHESTRATORS
don't care
ONE WHIT
about the cause
ONLY
about the
POWER and CONTROL
they
HOPE TO GAIN
when they
"HAVE TO"
quell the mess
and put out the fires
Which
THEY CREATED
by
THEIR MANIPULATIONS.
BEWARE
how people
try to use your emotions
for
THEIR GREEDY GAIN
TO CONTROL
YOU.
WE ARE ALL
ONE
RACE
THE HUMAN RACE.
Reach out
try to
LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR
YOUR BLOOD IS ALL THE SAME!
WOUNDED
ONE
DROP OF BLOOD
IT'S
ALL THE SAME.
cj 2016
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC
In the distance, outside the door to
your basement, a crowd
la-la's
the Star Spangled Banner.
All swirl-eyed, and promising water,
a circled-hiss, a lie.
Fox-headed, and painting Old Glory
onto his chest, to the amazement
of even the millionaires.
In a dark room, eyes roll back,
towards Wellesley. Eternally, hung
on the wall. The
patriarch, shaking the hands of
your grandfather.
Dreaming of the
late 1960s.
The mountain, surrounded by
clouds.
The Gods throw bolts, and
fireworks, at-You, through the
television set.
From the cinder, on the lawn,
of a house, on-fire and crumbling,
the kids
are catching flame.
And if all goes as planned then
the bonfire's a beacon,
we're not going anywhere.
We are the rocket's red glare.
Garnering hope from those
driving to work.
Hitting the light switch, to
see the results.
Trying to look for America.
Bernie 2016
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
Solid black lines
Framed the naked lives
Of a million loved ones
Belittled and turned lame
Another year passes
So fast one can't think
Standing on the brink
Of a thousand other free passes
Lives stop short
As another speeding boat
With faces frozen in fear
And mother's choosing invalid rear
Roaring typhoons of child-like playtime
Makes millionaires question their ethics
Nature whistles and human ears
Are forced to beckon and listen
Messages sent from a void of eternity
Plans made, destroyed all in the blink of an eye
A poet dies and another is born
To inscribe in the air the eye of a coming storm
Mar 22, 2011
Mar 22, 2011 at 2:52 PM UTC
You want this conversation
Well let's take the ******* out
You call for independence
So let's see what that's about
You're gonna need the banks for money
Gonna need the toffs for land
Well that's a kind of independence
That I just don't understand
So who are you kidding now, who are you kidding,
Nothing's going to change
With the same old queen and the same old scene
and the same old parlour games
This ain't no custody battle, you're not taking the kids to the zoo
If we don't want central government then why would we want you?
Now I find you quite convincing
when you say that things are wrong
But it seems that your solution
Is the same old same old song
And a suit in Edinburgh
Could be a suit in London town
Because you're all a million miles away
from the **** that's going down
Ah, who are you kidding now who are you kidding,
Where's the brand new dawn
It's the millionaires and the stocks and the shares
That'll keep on keepin' on
And this self-determination
Might catch you by surprise
The united states of me and my mates
Curse every flag that flies.
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC
In the nightmare
we lose ourselves
not wishing to look in each other’s eyes
left versus right
only millionaires and billionaires can afford to fight
male versus female
transphobic
Bigoted
drop the hate to relate
life sold cheaply over internet wars
our nation
a nation of locked doors
and hate driven speaking drivel
People
I love you all but your minds locked into
Facebook culture wars
media ******
ratings soar
go viral be the virus
or inspire us
it’s your choice
war is afforded to the rich
if your poor dig your grave or ditch.
May 10, 2022
May 10, 2022 at 5:00 AM UTC
I used to love
the ripple
of her.
I Cherished
placque suns.
I walked amongst
the withered oaky clouds
reaching to the earth
in capillaries
of lightning.
I made
****** on journeys
in the night
to the
licquor store.
I could take refuse
and morph it
in my hands,
because they were
her
hands.
She was the gravity of neutrinos,
I spun
and
spun,
and threw off layers,
as her bra
lay on the floor
and the laces
of her ******
lay
whitely
in the corner of the room.
I could've been anywhere
in those final seconds,
the club with it's thousand
orbitals of dancing brilliance,
the park
with it's millionaires
of hate,
the senseless
desert
of my
heart.
I was in the rainforest
feeling the universe
in droplets,
and my pores screamed.
Destruction
is something to reminisce over,
and I moan
like a cat in the night
with it's broken leg.
I moan
like a dwarf star,
getting smaller
and
smaller.
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 7:57 PM UTC
I'm a liar and a thief,
I feel no grief for the poor,
if I want, I'll spend some more,
just 'cause I can.
I'm blind and I'm numb,
I love to beat my drum of greed,
come here, let me plant a seed,
I'll manipulate your mind.
And you may ask why,
why would anyone listen to me?
Well friend, it's simple,
I have money.
I'm rude and inconsiderate,
Africans starve and wither away,
while I set here and shove my face,
with exotic pastries.
I'm deceitful and plain evil,
I love hearing the masses complain,
about how I don't share, I have no shame,
**** off you measly peasants.
I most likely don't ****
because I'm rich enough to not have too.
I'm also made of plastic,
being rich is ******* fantastic.
I'm the epitome of what you want to be,
rich, handsome, and some what happy.
But I'll never be happy enough,
because I can never have enough money.
I sit at home in giant rooms,
and eat money by the spoonful.
I love the way it gleams and shines,
under the chandelier in my dining room.
Best part of it all,
is the fact that I am free.
Free of taxes,
free of work,
free of everything.
So when you see me driving to the New York Stock Exchange,
bow before me,
kiss the floor please,
and don't forget to wave.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 5:14 PM UTC
september has become
the cruelest month
reassembled
hollywood disasters
at their worst
flipped into reality
as if
we had needed that
as if
we had not known
that life is fragile
and tall buildings
can collapse
taking thousands
to sudden death
what is the point?
to prove
that one can bring
disaster
to the undefended?
to demonstrate
that minds bent
on destruction
can succeed
if they plan long enough?
what a waste
of lives and minds...
and more to follow
most likely
does wordless violence
solve anything?
the heartless deed
the glamorous sacrifice
that calls for more
and more
and more
neurotic spirals
of destruction, retaliation
and revenge
instead of global peace
now looms spectral war
born from self-righteous pride
the need to strike out
fast and hard
against whoever fits
intelligence-created data
transferred to screens
meticulously marked
coolly oblivious of the people
who work and procreate
and live
in those fluorescent blips
domesticated energy
serves the omnipotent
two millionaires’ sons
turned public enemies
upon whose final global showdown
depends
the fate of yet more
women
men
and children
to satisfy the need
for a just universe
where power flows
undisturbed by laughter
and the sounds
of real people
living
in a real world
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC
It’s the billionaire’s coup–Trump, Putin and Musk.
They’re bleeding us out, from dawn until dusk.
Consumer protections, arts, farms, forestry–
the billionaires say they’re not necessary.
From the money they save, the tax cuts will come
to the billionaires, the millionaires, their daughters and sons.
Balance the budget, so they can all have some.
So many workers deemed useless and lazy,
such as nuclear engineers–whoops! Are they crazy?
Shredding all of Congress’s appropriations
and thumbing their noses at all other nations.
Except Putin’s, because, he’s one of them--
the billionaire’s club of rich white old men,
who share dreams of ransacking the whole world, entire,
until all of it ends in storms, floods and fire.
Then off via SpaceX past the Milky Way’s limits.
No, that’s not possible. But deep down they’re dimwits.
You can fool some of us, all of the time,
You can’t fool us all, and I’ll end this rhyme:
We’ll protest, we’ll sue, we’ll go out on strikes.
And if the time comes–their heads stuck on pikes.
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 12:50 AM UTC
Without any riches of money.
I'm happy.
I don't see too many millionaires able to say it.
They more into investments and divorces and paying of alimony.
Without many fancy things.
I'm happy.
Just living my life keeps me at it.
Life wasn't giving to be stressed but stress free.
Like a child with a smiling face and no worries.
Yes, I'm happy to be love.
Family, friends which requires no money.
Happiness is, anything that keeps you smiling.
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
(10/25/12)
The black days of history that many do not know
And many refuse to accept - of how the black man
Helped AMERICA to be the greatest country yet.
They was brought here as slaves because the
Color of their skin !
But their minds was never searched to see
What lied within.
Every ethnic group that came to the states
Had many a hardship that they had to face.
Every race that came was given a derogatory name
Which they had to accept and had felt the shame.
But they all contributed to this great nation of ours
Which is now known as the greatest power.
These are just a few facts of what the blacks
Had given to this nation, and many of these
Became part of our salvation.
FACTS: )1) john love- invented the pencil sharpener in 1897
2) Joseph lee -invented a bread making machine that mixed
The ingredients and kneaded the dough in 1895
3) Thomas l Jennings was the first African American to receive
A patent in 1821 which was for a dry cleaning process.
He used the money earned from his patent to purchase
Relatives out of slavery and support abolitionist causes.
4) madam c.j. walker (1867-1919) daughter of a former slave
Who suffered hair loss in her twenties and created hair care
Products , and allowed her to open a factory and school to
Train hundreds of black women to be economically self sufficient
And become one of the first female millionaires in U.S. history.
There is still something that burns in my heart
And when I think of it -it tears me apart
Of all the people in this great nation
That have been put to the ground
There lies one race that still lives
Way below the poverty line and
The government says there doing fine.
The “AMERICAN INDIAN” who had
Most all treaties broken and of this the
Government hasn’t spoken.
Many families of five and more
Living in a shack without a door
Just a blanket to stop the wind
To me this is a crying sin.
The Indian charities having to buy
fifty five gallon drums for water
And many of them on “back order”.
I know that I started writing this poem for the blacks
But on the Indian nations - I can’t turn my back.
We have to help one another, for we’re all
Sister and brother.
GOD BLESS US ALL
© L . RAMS
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 10:45 PM UTC
Or some kind of Countess
Even though she looks like kind of a mess
and my shrink was right
as she is every time
he likes her cuz she's rich
My X and me, my shrink says it's still raw for me
and him
but they fine
My cousins live in Oakland
And they work a day and have a Union
Back to the middle class, on my ***
As he floats by with millionaires, but they do have cares
I know that now, and how
He lives on his trust fund, and works some
and takes happy pictures in bars
And they seem happy enough, yes they are
but what can you see online?
I saw she's insecure
big surprise, just why
you need to announce your relative?
and I know he's only nice after he's had a few
nothing new, to me
His best friend has a trophy bride
Or maybe he married his daughter
So gross, these rich men and their habits
Sometimes we can't change our outer circumstance
But we do have a chance
if we try real hard
to rake up our little zen yard in our mind
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC
Extract the blood,
the metaphor for this euphoric movie I had directed under the fall of night, alone.
The film began to develop as the bottles began to pile
and thus I began to envision these delusions which I lust would become a reality.
We were a movie.
Especially when your smoke filled my mouth and you fed me love off of tables.
Made me hazy it smelt so gentle it burned so numb.
Tacky hands rode my skin,
engraving scars of diamonds.
My ego erupted; became so ******* rich.
Illusion said I could buy your love
but your eyes were guilty of unfazed.
Debuts don’t faze millionaires, we just look like more money.
Millionaires don’t watch our movies.
11 August, 19 03:37
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
Only last week did my phone ring,
I let it linger for just a moment to appear
like I get these calls all the time,
but briefly lost myself in the window and the view it kept for itself:
The trees that cut their leaves
Because they can do winter alone and bare,
Hard stone walls running rings around the land,
Bound together forever as a pair,
Cars are parked on roadsides at math-book textbook
Angles, parked without care,
Curtains covering windows across the street
Hiding makeup clad, moneyed affairs
Bus stops perched on top of the hill,
Red and built up from the ground, level and square,
Up the high street and off on the left
Are the new deigned houses of the poor millionaires,
Walking dog husbands walk unaware
Down paths belonging to the youth
Who sell drugs to each other with a
Giggle and an old rug to cover up their stash.
Only last week did my phone ring,
I let it linger for just a moment to appear
like I get these calls all the time,
my mother was on the other end,
“What took you so long?” she says.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
Wireshell trash can sweep-brushed
by Fusion, Alero, Chrysler Something.
They’re filled to the brim like sepia-stained
skyscrapers with swivel chairs and water cooler
pow-wows. Boss’ talking fax machines
and projections for the second fiscal quarter,
flipping a stock EKG reading on its *** We’re
all millionaires. All up like the NYSE at seven o’clock
in our living rooms watching the fireplace
playfully threaten our investments while CNN
sends money through the VCR slot. Cars, no
garbage trucks, cars, cars, scraping hubcaps off
the high sidewalks like beautiful harpsichords.
Neighbors. Suitcases and dresser drawers
packed tight with meat tape, paper towels,
and coffee mugs/fine China make heaped trash bags
seem obsolete. There’s no garbage here.
Downtown’s neon district makes enough
that they could afford a glowsign on every window,
every square inch of every lunch special, gallery opening,
or Salvation Army bell-ringer.
Forget New York,
we're the city that never sleeps.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
You know, it's not bad
I thought I would be messed up mentally
but instead I'm succeeding - they call it reality
I can't lie and say I don't long for
the outdated admiration, insincere adulation
from your clientele - embarrassed millionaires
Wasting what's left of their fortunes
to stash and squeeze
While I was caring what you would think,
they crafted a creation out of me
I like to
think about
the curve of my words
compared to the small of your back;
the dot over i
to the ones on your skin
the lines crossing t's
like those that run beneath your vision
Were
you any letter,
you would take the form
of a hook and a swoop in another direction;
a question never ending
That's
always
asking
"Why?"
I drink ***** as I write poetry
Focus on my handwriting to keep myself from
Wondering what you're doing
or what you'd think of me
Sipping my way out of my head,
Jack Daniels for breakfast
freedom from the distillery
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 1:06 PM UTC
They mean it with lingerie
or almost **** hanging *****
almost strolling out from within
as if they deny the prison there
that beholds and preserves conspiracy.
Chiffon bits glued to buttered butts
that dwindles either ways without
any declaration of war from each side
and only sensitive enough to react upon
high pencil edged sharp heels point touched.
They mean deep well navels crowned with
meaningless metal caps in place of ear rings
and their shameless faces dressed with colors
so much difficult to understand the brands
they represent each such pastel that robs them.
To further de-glamourise their stupid animosity
sudden malfunctioning of their bra-straps
or accidental slippage of intended tight gowns
making foolish gays popular and millionaires-
these models evidenced their killers via sharp nails.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 7:39 AM UTC
An invite to a posh party
can't wait to meet old friends
dusting off my old high heels
not used to fashion trends
Hair in an up-do
wearing my Tesco dress
lipstick matching manicure
looking my very best
There are lawyers and barristers
doctors and millionaires
I look around into the crowd
catching all their stares
Wow it's been so long
since we saw your face
shaking hands and smiling
and accepting their embrace
I noticed one of the faces
an old flame from the past
he looked me up and down
his approval I surpassed
I think we can rekindled
our love may start anew
six years on we're going strong
the rest can join the queue
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC