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Dirge
We drop our dead in the sea,
The bottomless, bottomless sea;
Each bubble a hollow sigh,
As it sinks forever and aye.
We drop our dead in the sea,--
The dead reek not of aught;
We drop our dead in the sea,--
The sea ne'er gives it a thought.
Sink, sink, oh corpse, still sink,
Far down in the bottomless sea,
Where the unknown forms do prowl,
Down, down in the bottomless sea.
'Tis night above, and night all round,
And night will it be with thee;
As thou sinkest, and sinkest for aye,
Deeper down in the bottomless sea.
poem by Herman Melville
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Spaewife
OH, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry.
An’ siller, that ’s sae braw to keep, is brawer still to gi’e.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Hoo a’things come to be whaur we find them when we try,
The lasses in their claes an’ the fishes in the sea.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why lads are a’ to sell an’lasses a’ to buy;
An’ naebody for dacency but barely twa or three.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Gin death’s as shure to men as killin’ is to kye,
Why God has filled the yearth sae fu’ o’ tasty things to pree.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
The reason o’ the cause an’ the wherefore o’ the why,
Wi’ mony anither riddle brings the tear into my e’e.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Beggar To Beggar Cried
'TIME to put off the world and go somewhere
And find my health again in the sea air,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And make my soul before my pate is bare.-
'And get a comfortable wife and house
To rid me of the devil in my shoes,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And the worse devil that is between my thighs.'
And though I'd marry with a comely lass,
She need not be too comely -- let it pass,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'But there's a devil in a looking-glass.'
'Nor should she be too rich, because the rich
Are driven by wealth as beggars by the itch,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And cannot have a humorous happy speech.'
'And there I'll grow respected at my ease,
And hear amid the garden's nightly peace.'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'The wind-blown clamour of the barnacle-geese.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Make Not A Fun....
MAKE NOT A FUN.......
Make not a fun of love
It will vanish
Leaving you decried
Wobbling
Upon a stick
Like a beggar
In wait of
A fat purse
Rendered penniless
Looking for a penny.
(karnailsingh Heranwale)
poem by Karnail Singh Heirwale
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Ladies First
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first,'
Pushing in front of the ice cream line.
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first,'
Grabbing the ketchup at dinnertime.
Climbing on the morning bus
She'd shove right by all of us
And there'd be a tiff or a fight or a fuss
When Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first.'
Pamela Purse screamed, 'Ladies first,'
When we went off on our jungle trip.
Pamela Purse said her thirst was worse
And guzzled our water, every sip.
And when we got grabbed by that wild savage band,
Who tied us together and made us all stand
In a long line in front of the King of the land-
A cannibal known as Fry-'Em-Up Dan,
Who sat on his throne in a bib so grand
With a lick of his lips and a fork in his hand,
As he tried to decide who'd be first in the pan-
From back of the line, in that shrill voice of hers,
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Grabby Gabby
Grabby Gabby was a little boy who was talking all the time
One day as he was walking, he saw on the sidewalk a dime
This started him to be grabby
Whenever he saw something shining, he would be grabby
One3 dayas he was walking, he saw a black shining lady's purse
He grabbed it and looked inside and found a lot of money in the purse
Also, he found a driver's license so he knew who the person was who owned the purse
So, he hurried to the ladie's house to return the purse
She was so happy that Grabby Gabby returned to her the purse and money
She gave him a reward of a large amount of money
June 29,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
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Be not a beggar
Avoid seeking aids
Unless in bare needs;
Avoid getting helps
Unless in dire needs.
Provide in equals
To those aids and helps.
You should not afford
To be a beggar.
Offer help and aids
That must not be baits;
Offer gifts and kinds
That should not be a debt.
Your pay out should not be
Less than your receipts.
You cannot afford to be a beggar,
You be not greedy
Which makes you ugly.
Then you aren’t shut
Doors by the dear ones.
You may remain poor
But not a beggar.
Being a beggar
Is worse than a slave.
18 09,2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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All The Moms Aren't Bad
All the Moms aren't Bad
A smart cop Nandhia
heard the cries of an infant
in the hands of a beggar
who tried to move the hearts
of the passers-by for looting alms
to fill her ever-hungry purse
and pay the balance of the baby-price
to the cursed, widowed mother.
Being alerted by the probing
suspicious looks of the cop,
the beggar hardly tried to board a bus
before the woman-cop pulled her back
and told her to feed the wailing baby.
The shabby mom feigned to feed the baby
but the three weeks old infant
was not stopping her cries.
The police grilled the mule to tell
the story of the baby born to a bitch.
No pallbearers will come forward
to carry her coffin to the grave.
No one will be there to bury the face
in hands and weep for her loss.
The Dengue will kill her
or the tsunami will drag her
by her forelock into the sea.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Terse Verse
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
In my soul thou so give
And on its worth my life I live
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
Love is a morsel of thine treasure
In one ounce is my immense pleasure
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
Sing like a muse
and in poetry fuse
my soul into verse from beauties purse
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Of Brussels—it was not
Of Brussels—it was not—
Of Kidderminster? Nay—
The Winds did buy it of the Woods—
They—sold it unto me
It was a gentle price—
The poorest—could afford—
It was within the frugal purse
Of Beggar—or of Bird—
Of small and spicy Yards—
In hue—a mellow Dun—
Of Sunshine—and of Sere—Composed—
But, principally—of Sun—
The Wind—unrolled it fast—
And spread it on the Ground—
Upholsterer of the Pines—is He—
Upholsterer—of the Pond—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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An empty purse can't stand alone and a full purse can't bend.
Better Be a Beggar
A beggar is not a robber.
He’s not a swindler or a hoarder.
He is as he could not be they.
Being a beggar is not a shame.
(10.04.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beggar is better
A dependant is worse than a beggar,
Though both of them don’t get self respects,
In that he, unlike the beggar, would get
Humiliations from his known people.
01.12.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Bottomless Lake
Heres the story of a man and his family
And a big trip that they took
Well, I heard all about in a restaurant
And I read it in a history book
They rented a car at the erie canal
But the car didnt have no brake
Said ma to pa my God this car
Is gonna fall into the bottomless lake
Well, mama turned to daddy with a pale face
Said Ive done something horribly wrong
Well, the waters still runnin in the bathtub
And I think I left the kitchen light on
Then I heard a crash the car when splash
And the compass rolled around and around
Oh, for heavens sake! we fell in a lake
And I think were all gonna drown
Chorus:
We are falling down
Down to the bottom of a hole in the ground
Smoke em if you got em
Im so scared I can hardly breathe
I may never see my sweatheart again
Play once after first verse
There was plenty of food in the backseat
And the windows were rolled up tight
So we all nibbled on a chicken leg
Told stories way thru the night
Well, pa told one that he told before
And the baby got a bellyache
Said ma to pa my God this car
Falling down a bottomless lake
Repeat chorus:
Poppa played the music on the radio
Mama rocked the baby to sleep
He said he wouldve taken the other road
But he didnt think the lake was that deep
Well, if the ferry been there at the end of the pier
Wed be half way to uncle jakes
Instead of looking at fish out the window I wish
Wed hit the bottom of the bottomless lake
stead of looking at fish out the window I wish
Wed hit the bottom of the bottomless lake
So if youre ever goin on a big trip
Ya better be careful out there
Start everything on you good foot
And wear clean underwear
Take along a Bible in the backseat
Read of david and solomon
For if you make a mistake in the bottomless lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
If you should make a mistake in the bottomless lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
If you should make a mistake in the bottomless lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A beggar will always be a beggar even if they give him the whole world as a gift.
The beggar that begs near another beggar will never be rich.