Micro Finance: Black power 's Sonnets on economics.

The blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan attempt a record breaking works of arts as he proposed a thousand sonnets on existentialism and revolution in economics.

There is no single, published book or collection that contains "a thousand sonnets on existentialism and revolution in economics". The number one thousand sonnets is an exceptionally large volume, and while individual poets have explored themes of existentialism or socio-economic issues in their work, no known published work precisely matches this specific and extensive idea.

Poetry collections that address related themes include:

Existentialist Sonnets by Gwyn Williams, a published work focusing on existential themes, though not containing a thousand sonnets.

Clamour for a Handful of Rice by Sonnet Mondal, which addresses global inequality and socio-economic realities in a visceral and empathetic tone.

Works by poets like T.S. Eliot (The Waste Land), Langston Hughes, and others often touch upon the human condition, social issues, and the struggles of existence in the modern world.

The request for one thousand sonnets is beyond the scope of a single response from any known poet in recorded history.The bard did prior 200 sonnets in other publication in the blog and in this piece also generate more sonnets here on these themes of economic development.

Sonnet : The Invisible Hand

The market dictates, a cold and unseen hand,

That guides our worth and measures every breath;

We are but cogs within a shifting land,

Where value’s tied to life, and often, death.

The existential plight of being bought,

A soul commodified for daily bread,

Where every struggle and where every thought,

Is weighed against the profit that is spread.

The revolution whispers in the street,

Of a new system, equitable and just,

Where all our human needs and souls can meet,

And leave the market's cold, metallic rust.

For freedom’s not in choices we can buy,

But in the life where all can truly fly.

Sonnet : The Absurdity of Scarcity

We live in plenty, yet we face the lack,

A paradox the mind cannot embrace;

The fields are green, no turning of the back,

But hunger paints a shadow on each face.

The existential dread of wasted toil,

Of labor spent for nothing in the end,

While others hoard the treasures of the soil,

And have not a single moment they must lend.

The cry for change, a necessary sound,

To break the chains of artificial want,

Where resources for all can be unbound,

And life is not a miserable, empty haunt.

For in the absurd, we find a call to fight,

To bring the day and banish the long night.

Sonnet : The Weight of Choice

To choose a path, when paths are pre-ordained,

By birthright, wealth, or where the coin is kept;

The freedom that the bourgeois have attained,

While others in their poverty have slept.

The existentialist must find their way,

And make their meaning in a meaningless void,

But revolution begs them not to stray,

From the shared struggle, from the life destroyed.

To act is all we have, our only might,

To cast a vote for a new human dawn,

To turn the darkness into blazing light,

And find that from the ashes, hope is born.

For freedom's true is when all can ascend,

And every life is more than just a trend.

Sonnet : The Burden of Being

To wake and know the sum of all your days,

Is merely measured by the coin you claim;

To live and work within a gilded maze,

And give a soulless company your name.

The factories hum, a chorus of despair,

As every hour ticks another cost,

And in the silent office, you must bear

The chilling thought that something has been lost.

This meaningless existence, day by day,

Is bought and sold upon a shifting tide;

A phantom freedom promised in the pay,

With nothing left for dignity or pride.

The choice is this: to break the endless chain,

Or live a hollow life and feel the pain.

Sonnet : The Weight of Capital

The gilded towers pierce a leaden sky,

Reflecting fortunes built on hidden toil;

While those who built them linger close nearby,

And struggle for a foot of fertile soil.

The existentialist, with searching eyes,

Sees through the myth of merit and of might,

To where the system quietly denies,

The basic freedoms of the common plight.

The capital, a weight that crushes souls,

Deforms the purpose that a life could hold,

And fills the void with transient, fleeting goals,

Where every human story can be sold.

And so the spirit stirs, a dormant fire,

To burn the pillars of this grand empire.

Sonnet : The Absurdity of Profit

The numbers rise, a testament to gain,

But at the core, the sum remains absurd;

For one man's riches are another's pain,

A silent footnote in a hollow word.

We calculate our worth in market terms,

And give our breath to something we despise,

As all our fragile, hopeful, human germs,

Are harvested beneath indifferent skies.

The search for meaning in a soulless trade,

The futile chase of what can never last,

A life consumed by promises unmade,

And bound forever by a distant past.

The revolution starts in this small thought:

That all this profit ultimately is naught.

Sonnet : The Alienated Self

The hands that labor craft another's dream,

Estranged from all the fruit their efforts yield;

A fragmented self within a broken scheme,

With the authentic 'I' no more revealed.

We lose ourselves in market's cold demand,

Our being severed from what we produce,

A life consumed by the external hand,

And meaning rendered utterly obtuse.

The existential ache is in the divide,

Between the worker and the thing that's made;

The human spirit struggles to abide,

The terms of trade where every soul is played.

Revolution calls for the true release,

Where work is life, and the self finds its peace.

Sonnet : Solidarity and the Spark

Alone we ponder what our lives can mean,

Caught in the cycle of the market's sway;

A solitary actor in the scene,

With all the world a stage for the display.

But in the shared experience of loss,

The common struggle and the common chain,

We find a purpose far beyond the dross,

A different meaning rising from the pain.

For solidarity ignites the spark,

A collective will to claim our rightful place,

To step together from the lonely dark,

And bring the dawn to all the human race.

The revolution blooms from this new 'we',

A unified pursuit of liberty.

Sonnet : The Future's Call

The present order groans, a tired machine,

Its rusted gears of power slowly turn;

The future beckons, vibrant, fresh, and keen,

A lesson that the powerful must learn.

The existential choice: to watch and wait,

Accepting all the structures that confine,

Or grasp the reins and master our own fate,

And shape the world with human design.

For we are free to build a different way,

Where economics serves the people's need,

Where meaning flowers in the light of day,

And all our lives are planted from good seed.

The choice is ours, the future we must write,

A new existence, free, and bathed in light.

Sonnet : The Alienation of the Soul

From what we make, our hands are kept apart,

The fruit of labor is no longer ours;

A deep alienation of the heart,

We build the world, but not within our powers.

The product stands, a stranger to the touch,

Its value locked in ledgers cold and high;

And every hour given counts for much

To them that own, while we just pass on by.

The self is lost in this relentless spin,

A cog in motion, with no sense of grace;

No meaning found in where we could begin,

To leave upon the world a human trace.

The call to change is born from hollow dread,

To seize the means, and lift the living dead.

Sonnet : The Tyranny of Time

The clock dictates, with tyranny of chime,

The moments sold, the minutes that we lease;

We race against the swift, unyielding time,

And find within the day no hint of peace.

Our freedom lies in choices we can make,

But every choice is tethered to the pay;

A constant cycle, for the system's sake,

That steals the essence of our life away.

The purpose that we seek in work is lost,

When work is but a means to just survive;

No matter what the personal, heavy cost,

We keep the engine of the world alive.

But in the pause, the revolutionary thought,

A life of meaning cannot be here bought.

Sonnet : The Spark of Solidarity

Alone we suffer, in our lonely plight,

Convinced our struggles are for us alone;

Lost in the shadows of the endless night,

A field of separate seeds that have been sown.

But in the shared experience of wrong,

A recognition sparks, a silent plea;

We find our voice, and join the common song,

The "we" emerges from the "I" to be.

The class divides are meant to keep us bound,

To make us think we have no shared belief;

But on this shared and common, hallowed ground,

We find a strength that offers great relief.

For revolution's truth is unity,

A life of purpose found in solidarity.

Sonnet : Adam Smith and the Unseen Hand

In Glasgow’s halls, a quiet thought was sown,

Of markets free and trade with open hand;

That wealth, not gold, but produce could be shown,

The true foundation of a thriving land.

He spoke of labour, and its just divide,

A simple pin, made by a thousand men;

And how self-interest, with a gentle guide,

Could lead to public good, time and again.

The "invisible hand," a metaphor so keen,

That steers the seller and the buyer's quest;

A world where commerce flows, vibrant and clean,

And nations rise above the final test.

For freedom's flow, in market's open space,

Brings growth and power to the human race.

Sonnet : Karl Marx and the Worker's Chain

The factory floor, where toil begins its grind,

A class divides the owners from the mass;

The wealth is made, while workers fall behind,

Their surplus value captured as they pass.

So Marx observed the system's cruel design,

The capital that crushes every soul;

He saw the struggle as a battle line,

And predicted workers soon would take control.

A specter haunts the world, a communist plea,

To break the chains of exploitation's hold;

A world where man from man could be set free,

And not a single life be bought or sold.

Though widely debated, his idea's strong might,

Still calls for justice in the worker's plight.

Sonnet : John Maynard Keynes and the Public Purse

When darkness fell, and markets stalled their pace,

And unemployment stalked the barren street;

The classical ideas lost their saving grace,

And something new was needed to compete.

Then Keynes arose, with theories bold and bright,

That government could spend and make things new;

To stimulate demand and bring the light,

When private hands could not see things through.

He championed the public’s open purse,

To build the roads, the bridges, and the schools;

To break the cycle of an economic curse,

And not let fate be ruled by rigid rules.

His vision saved the West, when hope was low,

And taught the world that public spending helps us grow.

Sonnet : Milton Friedman and the Money Flow

From Chicago's school, a different voice arose,

That government's big hand should be restrained;

That inflation's threat, the harm that it bestows,

Could only by controlled money be contained.

Friedman believed the market knew its way,

With freedom paramount for every man;

That limited control would win the day,

The best solution in an efficient plan.

He preached of monetarism's simple truth,

Control the money, keep the prices stable;

And bring back all the market's vibrant youth,

To make the private enterprise more able.

His influence strong, in Reagan's, Thatcher's time,

Freed markets soared, in prose and in their rhyme.

Sonnet : David Ricardo and the Global Trade

He saw the land, its value and its rent,

And how comparative advantage holds;

Though one land might be best in all descent,

By trading things, a better story unfolds.

Let Portugal make wine, let England weave,

Both gain by focus on what they do best;

A global market where all can achieve,

And put efficiency unto the test.

His model of trade, a cornerstone so strong,

That guides the flow of goods across the sea;

A world connected, where all can belong,

In mutual benefit, in unity.

Ricardo's logic, a brilliant, simple plan,

To spread the wealth for every living man.

Sonnet : Paul Samuelson and the Synthesis

He brought two worlds of thought into one place,

The micro forces and the macro might;

A neoclassical synthesis for the human race,

That made economics shine in clearer light.

He standardized the way the subject's taught,

In textbooks read by students far and wide;

The fundamental wisdom that he brought,

Helps policy and reason to decide.

Supply and demand, and Keynesian demand,

All find their balance in his thoughtful prose;

A comprehensive grasp of sea and land,

Sonnet : Adam Smith's Unseen Hand

In Glasgow's light, where Adam Smith conceived,

A world of commerce, vibrant, vast, and free,

A force unseen, the "invisible hand," believed

To guide the markets, for all men to see.

He spoke of labour's strength, in every trade,

The division's power to increase the wealth,

If self-interest could only be obeyed,

And nations prospered, not by force, but health.

No government's heavy hand should steer the course,

But laissez-faire, a simple, elegant plan,

To let the market find its natural force,

And elevate the good of every man.

His words a blueprint for a world of gain,

Where choice and trade could break all prior chain.

Sonnet : The Call of Karl Marx

Then Marx arose, with words of fire and steel,

To see the system built on endless strife;

The exploitation that the workers feel,

The surplus value stolen from their life.

He saw two classes, locked in constant war,

The owning few, the many who must toil,

And argued that the rich would ask for more,

And keep the workers bound upon the soil.

The alienation of the self from work,

A hollow life, a meaning bought and sold;

He called for revolution, not to shirk,

But seize the means, a story to unfold.

His spectre haunts the systems built on gold,

A potent vision, powerful and bold.

Sonnet : The Wisdom of John Maynard Keynes

When markets failed, in times of deepest gloom,

And dire depression gripped the global stage,

Came Keynes, who shone a light within the room,

And turned the page to start a new, bold age.

"In the long run, we are all long dead," he said,

And urged the state to intervene and spend,

To boost demand when all the hope had fled,

And on unemployment, put a timely end.

No self-correcting market would appear,

Without a push from fiscal policy;

He banished doubt, he conquered every fear,

And championed a new economy.

His modern macroeconomics took the stage,

And helped the world escape the downturn's cage.

Sonnet : The Creed of Milton Friedman

Then Friedman came, the Chicago man of might,

Who championed the markets, free and grand;

He swore that inflation was a simple plight,

"Always and everywhere a monetary phenomenon," planned

By governments who printed money fast.

He preached of monetarism, strong and true,

And said that only markets were meant to last,

With minimal the things that states should do.

He argued for individual choice and free a trade,

A voluntary army, and less state control;

His theories on the global stage were played,

And shaped an era, taking up the role.

His legacy still sparks the warm debate,

On money's power, and the hand of fate