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Writer's pictureAnisha & Joel ~ A&J

Where there's a Bank there's a Bastard


Big money and big ambition offend small minds.


In this world, small minds usually covet and juggle big money and big destinies - meddlesome indeed.


There are these covetous miserly gatekeepers, fiddlers on your roof, tinkering to let the drops of costs in, a contract being put out by the banking dynasties!

Commissioning leeches of expenses to bleed you dry, they have swindled the keys to lower the personal voltage of your house, to incapacitate any strong motion towards breaking the ceiling blocking any ounce of comfort or luxury.



A devious covertly spying ceiling structured by the bastards from the banks.


Confiscating autonomy and controls, like a hi- tech toll levying an automated charge on the unrelenting & unfazed swerving souls.

So hence these corporations constrict you to the gravitating costs they've implanted like a garden of leeches, the wealth divide.


 

Money for me is an empty street with no signals or signboards.

 

It's an autonomous swerve through life and times crucial to survive the untamed pounding behemoth that inhabits my chest.


Wealth opens up an array of options, to pursue this surging cyclone in my soul to perpetrate an upheaval, a chaotic reshuffling of destinies, a maneuver to elevate the degraded constricting standards by altering & modifying the intricate wiring to stop from keeping the circuit ebbing away to lower realms.



Increasing frequencies and spiritual statures in this chaotic collusion of wills.


Increasing personal standards.


The looming umbrella of the system keeps everyone drenched in agonizing sulphuric rain down under.

The grim umbrella that's supposed to look out for you, considering the way it taxes your parched butt like a waterless raisin, sells you personal instruments feigning to be a much-needed umbrella, yet tampered to only yield failure and loss.


Circumventing these instruments of death by the systemic umbrella, is questioning and challenging everything being shoved in the temple of your head since birth.


The constriction in your bank account is a global conspiracy, to deflate your balloon of ambition to siphon air into the hot air balloon of the upper echelon.

The leeches called costs have been arrayed in battle against you, that have been put up to task by the same Banks and Bastards.


Comply to constriction? you're another member to the mass crucifixion.


The boisterous hearted, radical rebels who don't take shit being siphoned through the holes of this corrupt umbrella, fire back with an arsenal, untamed, untethered, in for the kill.

Finesse to finish, this momentary constriction.

Death to the decaying & bullying system of convenient & selective law & order.



An elusive prelude:


A little anecdote.


1. I extrapolated from past patterns; the bank was built on a premise of transacting ponzi fairy dust called “intangible digits called money” to the masses.


2. While the banker’s feral eyes were visually arrested by its insatiable desire to gobble this gaping manipulated opening pursuing a hostile takeover, seizing crucial collaterals like the borrower’s gold, land, body, etc. effortlessly mass dispossessing the expanse of the known, systemically conquered world in its scope.


3. To give impetus to compel the reliance of people on this marshy gravitating mire, binding the borrower and its progeny for life.


I conclude, ingenious wonder - plan indeed, walk in with folkloric fairy dust, walk away with loot.


Leeches on your peaches
// poetry

Parasitic families beyond the banks,
Ever greedy insatiable leeches in your yard,
Through their many whoring proxies and fronts,
Stomped on your pulse, sold you an effing credit card.

Their left hand travels through wallets,
The right hand insidiously corroborates data,
Hypnotizing you with some horseshit to keep you asleep,
Super-Tech gloated at your sincere rote-learning of alpha & beta.

Farmer man said they built a bank on my blood!
Flood struck; they'd help me regrow my crop...
Now a luxury brothel financed by the same bank!
On what used to be my farm, I see pogo sticks hop!

Cannibalistic credit-cards,
Seduce the gullible masses,
Diverse dainty swiping card,
Blackens in the ascension of classes.

Through cracked and desperate glasses,
Scraping interests inconspicuous with a grin,
Stealthily drilling through holes in homes,
Floodgates gushing through the fragile roof of tin.

Then a tinkering of the wires in your box,
Wretched banker conspiring in a hole, a fox,
Expense-leeches copiously sucking the blood,
Cashflow manipulated strategically with titanium locks.

They sold you an umbrella of "insurance",
Crisis mentality infected your skull seeking "assurance",
Nickels the leeches swindled from your humble pocket,
Hedged by bankers, the ultimate specimen of despicable abhorrence.

You accepted your fate,
The constriction of costs a limiting state,
In cognizance of these vicious antagonists of your life,
Your only option is to crash open the gate!


Negotiating your birthright!

Your pound of flesh! A higher ceiling, a better wage.

Set free from constriction this broken banking bastard's cage.



 


Yours Truly, proudly presents
The Upper Echelon's Nakedness on Zech.Stage.

Now I know why the quintessential piggy bank came out to be a pig.



'Cause it’s a semblance of the families that orchestrated this filthy and insatiably greedy swine, polluting the place with its encroaching swindling snout.


I concluded, this controlling swine, aka The Bank, must be thrown far deep in the oblivion of the mire. Fettered in shit. Away from hope, away from cure, plagued by the recompense of its own deeds, decreed to the likeness of death it dished out to many unversed families out there.


I deduced:


Where there’s a bank, there’s a bastard.
Where there's a bank, there’s loan sharks, forcing a loan down your throat.
Where there's a bank, there's unwanted needy phone calls selling you a credit card.
Where there’s a bank there’s a dark realm of recovery agents and thugs.
Where there’s a bank, there’s an inquisitive swine’s nose buried in your business and resources.
Where there’s a bank there’s frustration, pain and disorder.
Yes, where there’s a bank there’s a bastard!


 

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