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City Of Beggars
The sky is always blue in the city of beggars
There is not much green in the city of beggars
There are buildings being built so fast in the city of beggars
In every corner that you encounter
The city of beggars are growing so fast
And in the city of beggars lives 30 million people
The air is not that good in the city of beggars
Because of the factories and the cars
The city of beggars never sleep
The noise goes on 24 hours a day
It is not safe to walk in the street of beggars
Because you can get robbed and killed at any time of the night or day
The traffic is chaotic in the city of beggars
Thanks God there is no snow in the city of beggars
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Theme From The City Of Beggars
Free the beggars from poverty today
Free the beggars from the slam today
Free the beggars from slave labour
Give the beggars some hope today
Put a smile on the beggars face
The beggars are starving today
So go ahead and feed the beggars some bread and water
Because that is better than nothing
Give the beggars the same right
That the rich got
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beggars Day
If this is heaven, then Im in hell
If trust is misfortune, then wish me well
While I think of sadness baby
Your light shines through, your light shines through
Your light shines through
Chorus:
Because its beggars day
Because its beggars day
Because its beggars day
Ive lost control of my darker side
A world all for free, on a nastier ride
*and I have crossed myself in anger
All your mercy cant save me, all your mercy cant save me
All your mercy cant save me
Because its beggars day
Because its beggars day
Because its beggars day
Lead:
Its beggars day
You know its beggars day
Because its beggars day
See this love, Ive stored for you
Wheel it and deal it, but our feelins are true
Repeat *
Chorus (2x)
(written by nils lofgren)
(published by almo music corp./hilmer publishing co. ascap)
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The filth of the culture.
Beggars are a few who beg for food.
Beggars are a few who beg for money.
Beggars are plenty who beg for acceptance.
It reflects the filth of the culture.
10.10.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dainty Davie
Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers;
And now comes in the happy hours,
To wander wi' my Davie.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, Dainty Davie;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear Dainty Davie.
The crystal waters round us fa',
The merry birds are lovers a',
The scented breezes round us blaw,
A wandering wi' my Davie.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, Dainty Davie;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear Dainty Davie.
As purple morning starts the hare,
To steal upon her early fare,
Then thro' the dews I will repair,
To meet my faithfu' Davie.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, Dainty Davie;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear Dainty Davie.
When day, expiring in the west,
The curtain draws o' Nature's rest,
I flee to his arms I loe' the best,
And that's my ain dear Davie.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, Dainty Davie;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear Dainty Davie.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Good wine ruins the purse, and bad the stomach.
When ego is fed…
Someone would remember me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would be grateful to me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would broadcast of me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would long for me:
My stomach goes full.
Whenever ego gets food,
The stomach is fed without food.
05.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stomach with food
Dont full
Fill your stomach...at
Food...
Stomach is
Full fill
The food...
Only at only
With waste of
Basket...
Making
At your stomach...
Drink...
Eat...
A llways
With your stomach
Limet... limet...
Healf stomach
Is good...
Bada full food
Eating...
Mothley once
ok...
Every day
Not better for
Your body health...
Diside to eat food...
Daily...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Villanelle of His Lady’s Treasures
I took her dainty eyes, as well
As silken tendrils of her hair:
And so I made a Villanelle!
I took her voice, a silver bell,
As clear as song, as soft as prayer;
I took her dainty eyes as well.
It may be, said I, who can tell,
These things shall be my less despair?
And so I made a Villanelle!
I took her whiteness virginal
And from her cheek two roses rare:
I took her dainty eyes as well.
I said: “It may be possible
Her image from my heart to tear!”
And so I made a Villanelle.
I stole her laugh, most musical:
I wrought it in with artful care;
I took her dainty eyes as well;
And so I made a Villanelle.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Widow At Windsor
'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy gold crown on 'er 'ead?
She 'as ships on the foam -- she 'as millions at 'ome,
An' she pays us poor beggars in red.
(Ow, poor beggars in red!)
There's 'er nick on the cavalry 'orses,
There's 'er mark on the medical stores --
An' 'er troopers you'll find with a fair wind be'ind
That takes us to various wars.
(Poor beggars! -- barbarious wars!)
Then 'ere's to the Widow at Windsor,
An' 'ere's to the stores an' the guns,
The men an' the 'orses what makes up the forces
O' Missis Victorier's sons.
(Poor beggars! Victorier's sons!)
Walk wide o' the Widow at Windsor,
For 'alf o' Creation she owns:
We 'ave bought 'er the same with the sword an' the flame,
An' we've salted it down with our bones.
(Poor beggars! -- it's blue with our bones!)
Hands off o' the sons o' the Widow,
Hands off o' the goods in 'er shop,
For the Kings must come down an' the Emperors frown
When the Widow at Windsor says "Stop"!
(Poor beggars! -- we're sent to say "Stop"!)
Then 'ere's to the Lodge o' the Widow,
From the Pole to the Tropics it runs --
To the Lodge that we tile with the rank an' the file,
An' open in form with the guns.
(Poor beggars! -- it's always they guns!)
We 'ave 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor,
It's safest to let 'er alone:
For 'er sentries we stand by the sea an' the land
Wherever the bugles are blown.
(Poor beggars! -- an' don't we get blown!)
Take 'old o' the Wings o' the Mornin',
An' flop round the earth till you're dead;
But you won't get away from the tune that they play
To the bloomin' old rag over'ead.
(Poor beggars! -- it's 'ot over'ead!)
Then 'ere's to the sons o' the Widow,
Wherever, 'owever they roam.
'Ere's all they desire, an' if they require
A speedy return to their 'ome.
(Poor beggars! -- they'll never see 'ome!)
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord Buddha begged.
The society has more thieves than beggars.
In a way, beggars are better than thieves.
They beg but steal not and get but usurp not.
Mortgaging their ego, they are begging.
It is easy to steal but hard to beg.
Give or not, don’t treat beggars with contempt.
Do treat them at par while you give them alms.
Feel elated while you offer them alms.
While giving, dispel their humiliation.
Lord Buddha too led His life as a beggar.
19.10.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An empty purse can't stand alone and a full purse can't bend.
Beggars Farm
Youre taking chances. and your reputations going down.
Going out in the night-time. you think you make no sound.
But you dont fool me. 'cos I know what you feel.
If you ignore the things I say --
Someday soons gonna find you
'way down on beggars farm.
I pay my money for no returns.
I think I need you. going to find someone.
Oh, you dont fool me. 'cos I know what you feel.
When you go out I ask you why.
And I wont worry when I see you lying
Down on beggars farm.
When you run to me, going to turn away.
Wont even listen when you try to say
That you were only fooling around --
'cos I know what you feel.
But if you ask me nicely, woman --
Ill wake up early one day soon and
Ill visit you down on beggars farm.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Outside
They took away
my money and bag
took away my
house and land
lay me on the sand.
I am here
near ganga
and in empty stomach.
I am here
near mahodadhi
and in empty stomach.
I am here
looking Nilachakra
alldays always
in empty stomach.
They snatch away
may language
They thrown me out
from the sky
they are my nearby.
who is there
outside my house
where is my earth
where is my worth.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Villanelle
A dainty thing's the Villanelle.
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.
A doublc-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.
You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime-
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.
Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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A Dainty Thing's The Villanelle
A DAINTY thing's the Villanelle,
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.
A double-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.
You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime--
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.
Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I See The Door
As sirens screamed out in the darkness
And fire fell down from the sky
As we cowered again in the bunker
We all knew the reason why
As our houses lay in ruins
And our sons were shot side by side
As the devil danced upon the graveyard
We all knew who's to blame
"For I am not one of the cowards
For I'm neither mortal nor weak
For I am the one you have longed for
A new master-race forsee"
He that is without sin among you
Let him first cast a stone on you...
Joh. 8,1
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride
If leaders feed beggars, a nation of beggars will fight
Those you once seduced
Are now here to be crucified
The principle of a fool
Who's betrayed and sacrificed
And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoky war
All hot and bleeding will we offer them:
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit,
Up to the ears in blood...
Shakespeare
song performed by by Verve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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