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"shareholders" poems
Jim, Clara, Lizzie, and Tim are sitting comfortably around a work meeting table drinking delicious coffee and eating delectable sandwiches which their manager provided for free; these employees love their manager. Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim area engaged in a ‘Quality-Circle’: A group of employees who meet regularly to consider ways of improving their workplace. Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim conceptualise themself as not slaves but cooperators with their manager to improve the functioning of their workplace for the benefit of the employees, and the benefit of the shareholders, customers, suppliers management and their whole society. Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim are exercising joyful creativity to identify problems and discover solutions which they will diligently implement to improve their workplace, to increase their joy and happiness in their workplace: by increasing ease of their work, by increasing efficiency of their work, by improving quality of their work, by increasing productivity, by increasing customer satisfaction, by improving environmental impacts, by increasing profits. Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim realise that a continuously-improving well-functioning workplace provides them secure and enjoyable employment; so, participating in the joyful creativity of a quality-circle striving to continuously improve their workplace makes them feel joyful and happy.
0
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 5:24 AM UTC
Quality Circle
The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes. The rate of ooze changes?. Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with ***** practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility. The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you. Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and ***** sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications. I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin. I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks? Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx. Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost ***** all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business. While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.
0
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
Today
The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes. The rate of ooze changes?. Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with ***** practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility. The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you. Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and ***** sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications. I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin. I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks? Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx. Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost ***** all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business. While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.
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1
some nights I dream of worlds that must have come from childhood fairy tales people work happily in various trades politicians are actually fighting for their citizens to make life easier and more rewarding skin color does not matter nor does religious orientation a person’s character creates distinction women don’t live in fear of getting ***** nobody is sold into slave labor or prostitution education is of high quality and free from grade school to college financed by affluent corporations whose shareholders just get a bit less when I wake up I recognize the dream was just a dream our reality is different
0
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
dreaming
I like  you. I like  you  a lot. I want to be bored with you. I want to hold weekly board meetings over the topic of you. I could impress the shareholders. What do you think?      I think you enjoy honesty, and despise flattery. Believe me, I know the difference. I hope you do too. I am no wily flatterer I would never say something like, “I’ll sail to the MOON for you,” something impossible and irrelevant. With the consistency of soupy puke. I should just as soon say, “I WILL jump recklessly from the top of a very tall tower, and land—perfectly intact and unharmed … for you.” I hope I am not the only one who sees a problem with this sort of logic. So instead I’ll say: Let the madness of what this fixation has turned me into, fuel my fears and my ambitions and drive me therefore, to construct a missile, with enough space inside to harness only myself, enough kick in the engine to erase my past—and all the laws of life as we know it. I will have those memorized by then, and plan to have my hands on new laws unforeseen by any of the other mainstream earthlings; maybe using my new third eye to grasp at something up there that was previously air — & I will beg this nonconsensual devotion you’ve evoked in me please grant me the derision to press the button, and launch myself into that forgetful lazy river that contains all the planets, asteroids, black holes, spaceships, a lonely-wandering U.S. radio transmitter, spilt-paint nebulas, one of Tiger Woods’ golf ***** a drunken astronaut, some of the crew from that Malaysian airplane (you know, the one that went missing), and also there are suns (often called stars), and moons, and there has gotta be a little love floating around somewhere with the celestial ants and supernovas and EVERYTHING. and dissimilarly nothing you can grasp. to the Moon? sure, why not babe, if moon-rocks could somehow make you fall in love with me, I would plan to rob the Smithsonian (or probably a similar museum of history but one with less security), and if that ended up a no-go, thenyeah.      Mad. Zoom. straight to the ******* moon for you.
0
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
AstroPhysics
I like  you. I like  you  a lot. I want to be bored with you. I want to hold weekly board meetings over the topic of you. I could impress the shareholders. What do you think?      I think you enjoy honesty, and despise flattery. Believe me, I know the difference. I hope you do too. I am no wily flatterer I would never say something like, “I’ll sail to the MOON for you,” something impossible and irrelevant. With the consistency of soupy puke. I should just as soon say, “I WILL jump recklessly from the top of a very tall tower, and land—perfectly intact and unharmed … for you.” I hope I am not the only one who sees a problem with this sort of logic. So instead I’ll say: Let the madness of what this fixation has turned me into, fuel my fears and my ambitions and drive me therefore, to construct a missile, with enough space inside to harness only myself, enough kick in the engine to erase my past—and all the laws of life as we know it. I will have those memorized by then, and plan to have my hands on new laws unforeseen by any of the other mainstream earthlings; maybe using my new third eye to grasp at something up there that was previously air — & I will beg this nonconsensual devotion you’ve evoked in me please grant me the derision to press the button, and launch myself into that forgetful lazy river that contains all the planets, asteroids, black holes, spaceships, a lonely-wandering U.S. radio transmitter, spilt-paint nebulas, one of Tiger Woods’ golf ***** a drunken astronaut, some of the crew from that Malaysian airplane (you know, the one that went missing), and also there are suns (often called stars), and moons, and there has gotta be a little love floating around somewhere with the celestial ants and supernovas and EVERYTHING. and dissimilarly nothing you can grasp. to the Moon? sure, why not babe, if moon-rocks could somehow make you fall in love with me, I would plan to rob the Smithsonian (or probably a similar museum of history but one with less security), and if that ended up a no-go, thenyeah.      Mad. Zoom. straight to the ******* moon for you.
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32
Downsizing Downsizing, thats what they say All my friends say ill be okay That I'll find a job right away If only they could see the pain Downsizing, thats what they say They lock the doors at close today Now what am I supposed to do Am I to old to start out new Downsizing, thats what they say No more work means no more pay Twenty years at this job They say the work now must stop Downsizing, thats what they say All for shareholders that must be please Do they know the pain they've caused So many families now feel lost Downsizing, thats  what they say We lost so many jobs today Not just me but many friends Today we know it all must end Downsizing, thats what they say Moved our jobs overseas Chasing just the bottom line All to make them one more dime Downsizing Carl Joseph Roberts
0
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 6:58 AM UTC
Downsizing
Uncle Sam reclines and unwinds In his Adirondack chair The Statue of Liberty reminds the Mater at Arms Of the time when he was put in a peyote trance It was only then he caught on He rammed his head against his headboard every night Wracking your brain, trying to wrap it around the concept of the excommunication of those who have had their mouths washed out with soap There will be no fanfare for the stray lambs They are only meal tickets for the clergy Concord grapes and word of mouth Raise the question, "what is in a hot dog?" Don't latch on to me after I dance with you into mad denial under a brass florescent chandelier in front of all the stock brokers and shareholders I'll dismantle your silver lining with a spork The  cow pies disappear due to erosion It's good to see you, I didn't know burlap sacks were all the rage right now Stencil your name on it for good measure How do you feel after your ego death?
0
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Kundalini
The sun dipped down to meet the sea water and the shore saw those barefoot friends... *The shareholders of  the old splendid days and a classy tale*.. Soon the warm reddish rays sprinkled to every corner of the sky.. So firm was the hold of the hands that they had been using to tease each other and run away to hide in a place nearby.. They knew that the breeze of every day in these four years that they had breathed out merrily is never going to be cast again in the shadows of their lives.. Scribbling their names in the sand that got drenched by their tears and the low tides of the waggish water.. They left and walked towards the different ways leaving behind the glorious and rich saga, and taking along with them- *The timeless stock of memories scratched to keep their every single nerve full of rejoices forever*..
0
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 2:59 AM UTC
_Timeless_
Patagonia Free my mind gazing through the sun we having nothing but the time what is free you can't happen to believe what you can perceive high up in those trees Patagonia free my mind gazing through the sun we have nothing but the time set me free I am just a simple thing wondering this world I believe it to be a dream It was a simple decision and I was lonely that day just my disposition led me to enjoyment and a moment of cognition a thought I believe it to be dormant sitting in that broken diner simplicity was on my shoulder unlike those insecure and brainless lonely shareholders i'm not looking for the finer materials I just seek a little water dying of thirst I am in need of what I can't find these distractions bring the worst humanity you'll never come first Patagonia Free my mind gazing through the sun we having nothing but the time what is free you can't happen to believe what you can perceive high up in those trees Patagonia free my mind gazing through the sun we have nothing but the time set me free I am just a simple thing wondering this world I believe it to be a dream There comes a moment in every beings life add the sun of every component some may be frozen while others they are broken like the lost poet
0
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 12:55 PM UTC
Patagonia
ISOMETRIC SYSTEMS L.L.C THANK YOU FOR YOUR SOUL PURCHASE OF THIS AUTOMATED MIND COLLECTION, WITHOUT YOUR ORGANIC PURCHASING POTENTIAL, WE WOULD CEASE TO EXIST PLEASE CONTINUE TO SUPPORT THE SYSTEM BY PURCHASING AND UTILIZING YOUR LIQUID ASSETS WE EXPECT, AS ALWAYS, TO REPORT A REVENUE INCREASE FOR OUR SHAREHOLDERS BY THE END OF THE FISCAL YEAR IF THE PRODUCT YOU RECEIVED WAS UNSATISFACTORY OR DEFECTIVE, PLEASE ADDRESS THE ATTACHED CONSUMER REPORT CARD TO YOUR NEAREST CONSUMER RELATIONS AGENT, WHERE A HYPER-SPECIALIZED INDIVIDUAL WILL BE ABLE TO ASSIST YOU. WE STRIVE TO PROVIDE A 100% CLEAN AND CAREFULLY CURATED STATE OF MIND SO THAT YOU DON’T HAVE TO.
0
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
DAD LISTENS TO VAPORWAVE
Lord,                it is not in school where the exposed legs of the daughters are shown; something I & the wealth of the bridge share;              This is a prophetic dream of an AR15 even as it falls to the ground; smelling the teen's genital area, Teacher wearing Readers & Six Machines in **** lingerie; The Alchemist's married life is this kind of a picture of her drawers;      The standards of shareholders looking on the mountain; Temperamental eyes are on the new Christ in Bethlehem when 1 a robot sitting in bed or unknown; writing a tree,                        so literary to meet you in ur soiled Garden      trousers, Science, Park Magic wins the toes of mom who loves to talk language;                                  Bread X. Not in school, where were unloaded two daughters at the feet of the also shown; I think, This means that the bridge also dreams of low AR-15 fire the smell of the earth's DOLE, Six reader machines wearing... At least it's **** lingerie                        & married life is a kind of picture of drawers in the standard cut so shareholders can see the mountain's Temperamental eyes on the new When a robot Christ in Bethlehem 1 is sitting on the bed or unknown; He writing a literary meeting tree in Garden hats,                          Science Park Magic wins mom loved toes speaking in tongues,     10: Bread It is not in school, where he unloaded & the girls fell to the feet also shown; 1 think it is down 1 Dream Bridger Pass;       The smell of the Earth's AR15; Sorry six         readers & machines,                          &c. or at least a little bit like wearing **** lingerie in conjugal life;                      the image of a kind of banner   the shareholders can see over the drawers   mountain's                         temporal lights a robot,                                                     where Christ sits on the love buried In the hard snooch of a young woman on the couch;                                                                    He writes to himself & comes out against a piece of wood; Now that science is gardening in a straw hat in the Park, Magic wins the toes, my mom's love speaking in tongues,              10: Bread It is not in the classroom, where he unloaded the rifle & he will divide them, & actually at his feet, there is no [               ], it has been shown;                 1 think 1 is a dream bridge, But what is the smell of AR-15 fire but that of the Earth;       Unfortunately for those six lonely readers & the ice machines;              at least a little bit; And to those members wearing lingerie, married & resuming standard drawers in the image of the shareholders, 1 second on the Hill; the lights of a temperamental where Christ sits on the robot love buried; It is difficult for a young woman;      In her snooch in New Bedford      he writes in his novel It literally that came out of the tree's horticulture Science Park Magic within a straw hat; My mom fingers her snooch;           That loves to speak in tongues,               10: Bread It is not the classroom which causes them to inherit & as he unloaded the Aaron lifted up,  & at the feet of his own accord that it does not have to be shown; 11 bridges think it is a dream;         But why, except that the smell of an AR15 is of the Earth;   unfortunately Ice machines & only six readers;    He said while indeed members were wearing lingerie & standard drawers standing in the circle marrying their images to those of the shareholders; 1, according to the Hill,      lights out, temperamental of the Christ,         in the love of the robot sits by the buried computer;        It is difficult for a young woman; In her snooch,             I know that Bedford writes that he has come under the sway of Rome,         Literally; & that it came to pass,      & that from the fruit of the tree of gardening;     The knowledge of the Magic Park, w/in the straw hat;                My mom plunges her fingers into the woman's snooch of love,  the Greek speech                                                     Express: 10: Bread
0
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
Six Lonely Readers [& an ode on an AR-15]
Lord,                it is not in school where the exposed legs of the daughters are shown; something I & the wealth of the bridge share;              This is a prophetic dream of an AR15 even as it falls to the ground; smelling the teen's genital area, Teacher wearing Readers & Six Machines in **** lingerie; The Alchemist's married life is this kind of a picture of her drawers;      The standards of shareholders looking on the mountain; Temperamental eyes are on the new Christ in Bethlehem when 1 a robot sitting in bed or unknown; writing a tree,                        so literary to meet you in ur soiled Garden      trousers, Science, Park Magic wins the toes of mom who loves to talk language;                                  Bread X. Not in school, where were unloaded two daughters at the feet of the also shown; I think, This means that the bridge also dreams of low AR-15 fire the smell of the earth's DOLE, Six reader machines wearing... At least it's **** lingerie                        & married life is a kind of picture of drawers in the standard cut so shareholders can see the mountain's Temperamental eyes on the new When a robot Christ in Bethlehem 1 is sitting on the bed or unknown; He writing a literary meeting tree in Garden hats,                          Science Park Magic wins mom loved toes speaking in tongues,     10: Bread It is not in school, where he unloaded & the girls fell to the feet also shown; 1 think it is down 1 Dream Bridger Pass;       The smell of the Earth's AR15; Sorry six         readers & machines,                          &c. or at least a little bit like wearing **** lingerie in conjugal life;                      the image of a kind of banner   the shareholders can see over the drawers   mountain's                         temporal lights a robot,                                                     where Christ sits on the love buried In the hard snooch of a young woman on the couch;                                                                    He writes to himself & comes out against a piece of wood; Now that science is gardening in a straw hat in the Park, Magic wins the toes, my mom's love speaking in tongues,              10: Bread It is not in the classroom, where he unloaded the rifle & he will divide them, & actually at his feet, there is no [               ], it has been shown;                 1 think 1 is a dream bridge, But what is the smell of AR-15 fire but that of the Earth;       Unfortunately for those six lonely readers & the ice machines;              at least a little bit; And to those members wearing lingerie, married & resuming standard drawers in the image of the shareholders, 1 second on the Hill; the lights of a temperamental where Christ sits on the robot love buried; It is difficult for a young woman;      In her snooch in New Bedford      he writes in his novel It literally that came out of the tree's horticulture Science Park Magic within a straw hat; My mom fingers her snooch;           That loves to speak in tongues,               10: Bread It is not the classroom which causes them to inherit & as he unloaded the Aaron lifted up,  & at the feet of his own accord that it does not have to be shown; 11 bridges think it is a dream;         But why, except that the smell of an AR15 is of the Earth;   unfortunately Ice machines & only six readers;    He said while indeed members were wearing lingerie & standard drawers standing in the circle marrying their images to those of the shareholders; 1, according to the Hill,      lights out, temperamental of the Christ,         in the love of the robot sits by the buried computer;        It is difficult for a young woman; In her snooch,             I know that Bedford writes that he has come under the sway of Rome,         Literally; & that it came to pass,      & that from the fruit of the tree of gardening;     The knowledge of the Magic Park, w/in the straw hat;                My mom plunges her fingers into the woman's snooch of love,  the Greek speech                                                     Express: 10: Bread
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79
I saw the thousands of students gathering peacefully protesting on the whole. Until the small radical elements arrived not being in a distant country. But on the streets of old historic London and spreading to other cities. An underlying current of frusteation denying the stability of a nation. Taxes rising the lowering of living standards the future generations angry. With more elderly living and far fewer young a small core of the mega rich. Fuelling anarchist to violently show their hand governments not setting a good image, As promises made to voters are totally ignored the people tiring of politicians has soared. Companies allowed to make vast sums of cash passing on the costs to the public. Boosting profits and shareholders balances multi levels of bitterness develops. Each thinking they are the ones oppressed creating resentment and envy. Splitting a struggling society into fractions determined to take drastic actions. Rebellion and anarchy not new to man destructive elements that don't achieve. In the end our race can only last if it's one clan working together because they believe. Or is this another cycle coming to the end? The Foureyed Poet.
0
Feb 19, 2011
Feb 19, 2011 at 3:27 AM UTC
Protest
flaccid pacifists symbolizing sexism single-mindedly corrupting hostile youth ruining bullying and facilitating inbreeding through top-down initiatives laced with bath salts the pussify-ing of America has begun – tear soaked cheeks distort with rage at the blatant separatist ideals propagated creating not one nation under rule of law, but many angry independent states bent on torture laws and privatized prison for profit shareholders holding gavels and lives in an unjust system of justification ……they deserve this – broken-hearted mothers line razor-wire fences defenseless against the tyrannical bureaucracy beholden to the loved one wrongly incarcerated banging bloodied fists against walls that hear no cries, defeated, they slip into damaged Datsun’s disappearing freeway anonymity is the course of the day –
0
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
garbage to the "nth"
CEO's buy Corporate HO's with Shareholders Financial Invested Stock Portfolios
0
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
Stock Merger 10W
Walking through the darkness A world made of ash Everyday I keep on walking My feet keep on burning Tyrants live in temples Made of the broken Relaxing with their Model girlfriend Shareholders count their War dividends as they send Their children to Eton While in a distant land a little girl just got Shot Lost in the darkness Brutality has no ending Looking to balance the equation Only finding a black hole a never ending continuum As people preach of hope But are so often wrong More flowers placed by The roadside why do the good Often die young As single mums struggle tormented by ex lovers Who walk away smiling With their new girlfriend As the faint hearted Seek reason where there is none And sense in the senseless Like broken glass can ever have any purpose But as good deeds do lie Buried unseen forgotten In their life only find ruin Let us not betray the scattered Lights discarded by life   Thrown to the wind like ash Let them be our stars For however dim my shine However weak I may feel I stand with God by my side Holding my hand Softly whispering " Please not you Adam don't let me loose you too hang on   let me just love you" As I promise to hold   Onto goodness Like a flower On a cliff edge And however faint I maybe Like a distant star I shine And shine I do with new  hope
0
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
HOPE
talking heads discuss the moral fiber of America but they mean rich, white, elitist fibers…. what about the fiber of those who helped slaves escape at risk of their own peril? what about long-haired kids from the Height building communes in the California forests? what about those firemen who ran into burning buildings to rescue humans regardless of race, creed, or color? rich, white elitist men, don’t care…. look at the native traditions of living harmoniously within the natural order of the planet/ look across the impoverish third world lands and the way families feed each other, tend to children, work for the common good/ look at the medical marijuana movement freely giving pounds to sick or autistic children/ rich, white, elitist men, don’t care…. these men only care about making money off the backs of the less fortunate expanding the bottom line while maintaining the status quo taking care of the shareholders at the detriment of the entire planet…. rich,   white, elitist men, care about that….
0
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
too much Republican debate
suits chugging beers overcompensating a man rubs his hands with a new deal capitalist moisturiser Jargon For Dummies in search of some box full of empty rooms holding tiny humanity pin-striped warrior factory they're everywhere these broken moulds ******* the middlemen fattening bottom lines bears set free amongst steel & glass concrete hot under summer gamma shareholders ruling but not really reigning
0
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
Bull Market
Down at the business factory profits were low or at least lower than the shareholders wanted so Hyper-Capitalist Genius Man masterminded a brilliant plan: “We have three people performing a task two people could accomplish while losing their minds attrition rates shouldn’t be a concern because we’ll just streamline the jobs so there’ll always be desperate workers who can easily replace the disillusioned ones.”. The other businessers were impressed the emperor of business had heard enough: ****** you’re ‘Work People to Death‘ theory might just work. I’m naming you chief execution officer of the company.”. Profits went up and were disseminated amongst the higher-ups so that everyone that mattered was happy all thanks to Hyper-Capitalist Genius Man.
0
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 3:15 AM UTC
Hyper-Capitalist Genius Man
Pliny the somethingth's request for a title put through the paces of a mincing machine will form this, the entirety of my presentation, to you, paid for by the flatulence tax. VAT fantastic. I love the Government.
0
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
Tell the Shareholders I've gone Insane
listen people, profits attract milestones bar graphs and charts of shareholders catch no fish, only stones prevail speak no parables of numbers i know two fish,five loves can and will feed five thousand. who said, the birds and the bees have 4o hour weeks and summer holidays in the sun six weeks of laziness and gym routines? go fishing instead. make no fishy business of it. i say, directors, loose garb is better than pin-stripes tithes better than fat bank balances full of fat. would you give an eye to your supervisor? No so watch your manners. no point in being the undercover boss handing out peanuts for poor employees and ******* dollars from their cheers and less hours on the last floor shift! I know tv does a lot of good, but so do bibles and psalms and rock anthems and mary magdalene. no point in raking in money singing jesus christ superstar! im just two thousand fourteen years late on this board of whingers. AC- DC/BC? get a life man, the next train to eternity is only here on a whistle-stop.leaf your clothes behind and head to the first **** beach around the bend. lucifer is red hot there. times have changed, man. whats next on the agenda? © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 3 days ago - See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11693097-Jesus-on-the-Board-of-Directors-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.NyZSTkRp.dpuf
0
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Jesus on the Board of Directors
transparent disparages ensnare carefree societies implying unreliable disguises with a flair for pageantry daring prayer, rare hares prepare hairy Unitarians to marry shareholders in gay Paris (Pari’) repairing the tear offering free-range diversity university perversions revert extroverted exhibitionists to airline reservationists impatiently, first-world philanthropists **** on lists twisting the anthropologists mood into a balloon animal this scandalous tryst helps black-balled priests insisting on peace to release persistent victims’ names to mass media outlets disabled vets regret investing as corporate jets rest on golden runways dark days on the horizon implying these lies perpetrated cause an uprising that surprises those late to realize the fly’s on the eyes of poor black children are all of our future –
0
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 12:58 PM UTC
where are we going......
it ain't the same remember your street how colorful it was almost like a yellow brick road or a gingerbread house your friends congregating for a game of 21 americana incarnate with illegal fireworks and soggy doritos after swimming for hours what's really so different everyone becomes an adult eventually I just hate different the birds sound They don't even sing much anymore Colors muted and sights replaced brutalist and architecture meant to appease shareholders Nostalgia and cynicism are best buddies and I here I am... misery comes in threes
0
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 6:48 PM UTC
a mcchicken costs what?
You'd say I was foolish or more likely, delusional. I'd say you're right, and I'd smile inwardly You'd say it can't be done, your shareholders would never allow it I'd say, if they know what's good for them they will You'd ask, what kind of shareholders do you think you have? I'd say, hand-picked .... principled You'd say, it's a stretch, but it's your delusion I'd say, I've already done it ... And I'd ask, can delusion and reality exist on the same plane? You'd think: ******** I'd smile inwardly
0
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
What if I created a billion dollar company and gave it away for a poem?
Funny thing about the human race, So much struggle just to stay in place. Respect for one another is a give and take. Even then, some never get a break. Others take a bigger slice of the cake. Life's at stake, All created equal, But these unfair shareholders raise the stakes, to benefit their estates. These Jakes the snakes, take the cake, and make a great escape. Buy the time, then Figure eight, By the time we figure its too late. This is life, no pause button, You gotta pay for breaks. Only one life to live, when it's gone, it's always too late, For a date set by fate. so walk down the right path, the more you give, the more you have. It's never too late, as long as you make it last. Passion is gift gives to the blessed. Finding your purpose is only part of the test. Talent is what sets you apart from the rest, Drive is what keeps you ahead of the rest, Determination is what makes you the best. "It's lonely on top," said the lonely man, all upset. Believing in yourself, by yourself, and that's what you get.
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
ManKind
myself , get shareholders like Wal-mart, the worth of which is seen only in the value of the stock, the workers the low notches on this totem pole, pay them nearly nothing and let welfare cover their health care, fix the books if that is needed and just get fined for that, fine for me the CEO gets a golden parachute. Something , I see, I need to either comment on, or join in the game.
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Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
i need to incorporate
Why do dictators like to finger the globe? Shoot the ******* dead, before they become world known. Should we strangle the gangster and forget about a police probe? Now in Ferguson, it's happening daily and getting full blown. Do you think about how others live? Or look away from others in society your with. What sort of human can make another's jaw drop and body flop? Get in the ring, put on your gloves and see who comes out on top. Will the man on the moon ever show us his dark side? Maybe the little green men have got something to hide. Do you think about how others live? Or look away from others in society your with. Do clowns sometimes cry and does their eyeliner run? Maybe there black or white and some might even carry a gun. Do prison girls like the jail uniform stripe? Surely they wish for a pink blouse, but never gripe. Do you think about how others live? Or look away from others in society your with. Why do banks, shareholders and politicians always have money in reserve? While the workers, pensioners and babies don't get what they deserve. Since when should new immigrants be able to paddle to shore? When skilled workers from afar and new brides are drowned in red tape, for sure. So just think about how others live? Also look at all others in society and give.
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Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 5:57 PM UTC
Do You Think About How Others Live?