A sturdy beggar should hae a stout nae-sayer.
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Soothe Sayer
Open up your eyes, see the world around you
It's not what we thought it was. it's not what we were told.
Flashing signs before us. they're even reading the last rites.
All our systems have failed us. now they've turned out the lights.
Soothe sayer. the miracle's just begun. what a cool player.
Love is the only one! soothe sayer.
New age, millenium. the coming of the new messiah.
Wall street, big businesses, pretending it's alright.
Preachers lost in ministry, while the sinners laugh and mock.
Angels watching helplessly the final ticking of the clock!
Soothe sayer. got you on the run. what a cool player. love is the only one!
Soothe sayer. got 'em on the run. what a mind blower. love is the only one!
Soothe sayer.
When you walk that rocky road, you need food to feed your soul.
I'll help you with that heavy load, until you reach your home!
Your not alone!
Soothe sayer. the miracle's just begun. what a cool player.
Love is the only one. soothe sayer. soothe sayer.
The devils on the run. what a cruel player.
Love is the only one! soothe sayer!
Open up your heart. look up in to the sky.
Feel the energy around you and know that we must try.
Love's the new reality, the true saviour of this world.
We're gonna live through this insanity. you better hold on to me guru!
Soothe sayer. soothe sayer
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Five Little Fingers
This is the baby who doesn't do a thing,
This is the lady who loves to wear a ring,
This is their big sister, this is another,
And this stout thumb is their great sturdy brother.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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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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The Anatomy of Angels
Angels inhabit love songs. But they’re sprites
not seraphim. The angel that up-ended
Jacob had sturdy calves, moist hairy armpits,
stout loins to serve the god whom she befriended,
and was adept at wrestling. She wore
a cobra like a girdle. Yet his bone
mending he spent some several tedious weeks
marking the bed they’d shared, with a great stone.
poem by Alden Nowlan

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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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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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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.
Night's still awake with flexible souls
At the daybreak a drunkard whispers to a beggar's ear
Who's fast asleep on the concrete bed!
'Sorry for the inconvenience brother!
Short of few coins and I want to go back home
As I lost my way last night and slept in a strange place.'
The kind beggar gave him a brand new dollar note
with a big yawn and he's surprised.
He jumped to the first bus and gone.
Now the beggar remembers the friend
Once offered him a drink and he's worried
That he should have given him more.
* A Diamond is a chunk of coal that made good under pressure.
-Anonymous
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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The Beggar
The thought of great social solitude,
The sight of everyone having an attitude,
Being the neglected in the maltittude,
The pity viewed in verisimilitude,
The life of a beggar
His clothes torn and stomarch empty,
Always dancing to their tune,
Exploited and greatly tortured,
His presence mean nothing to them,
Their presence mean everything to him
He walks door to door for livelihood,
They dont walk to him to give life,
He is seeking life everyday,
Yet life does not seek him even one day
The beggar with rolling tears
Life like that of a beggar,
Love like that of a life,
Begging for the conditional love,
Do I have to beg your love?
Like the beggar beg for life,
My determinism flashes through,
Im breaking the steel bars my love,
Loosening the metalic chains off,
Love is love, not to be begged for,
Love is love, not to use each other,
Love is love, no need for persuation,
For so long it is love,
I will never be begging anymore,
Such love will be deceit,
Such truth will be fake,
And such commitment will be futile
Such a lover will be like a beggar,
Such a beloved will be like a lifegiver,
And such their love will be a shame
poem by Gaylord Munemo

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A homework
We were told to draw a portrait at our choice
but we were send only words.
The beggar was still there, near the apple-tree in blossom,
punished to count stars or to assist the leaves' death.
I refused my tears and began my homework.
The light was for all and for free,
the beggar was thought the fear's pride.
I took the words and have drawn this poem at my choice.
The apple-tree smiled to the beggar
in this light for all and for free
poem by Clava Ghirca

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Running To Paradise
As I came over Windy Gap
They threw a halfpenny into my cap.
For I am running to paradise;
And all that I need do is to wish
And somebody puts his hand in the dish
To throw me a bit of salted fish:
And there the king is but as the beggar.
My brother Mourteen is worn out
With skelping his big brawling lout,
And I am running to paradise;
A poor life, do what he can,
And though he keep a dog and a gun,
A serving-maid and a serving-man:
And there the king is but as the beggar.
Poor men have grown to be rich men,
And rich men grown to be poor again,
And I am running to paradise;
And many a darling wit's grown dull
That tossed a bare heel when at school,
Now it has filled a old sock full:
And there the king is but as the beggar.
The wind is old and still at play
While I must hurty upon my way.
For I am running to paradise;
Yet never have I lit on a friend
To take my fancy like the wind
That nobody can buy or bind:
And there the king is but as the beggar.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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It is better to be a beggar than ignorant; for a beggar only wants money, but an ignorant person wants humanity.
quote by Aristippus

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Brief Lives of Lighthouses
Having entered many,
In New England-
Maine, Massachusetts,
(West Island) ,
I am aware of the importance of guiding sailors,
And though sturdy,
They often fall due to Tectonics,
Like the Pharos of Alexandria,
Dying for all its sturdy steps,
Falling into the sea
That it scrutinized,
Swallowed whole.
The Lighthouse of Alexandria,
As has been brilliantly documented,
Lies dormant under the waves,
Guiding nothing but cameramen, who are
Caught in the dim.
poem by Stan Petrovich

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When The Conscience Speaks...
a beggar arrives home today
bringing her story
and she talks and talks
and convinces me that
she deserves to be
given food and money...
an intelligent beggar
with wits and wiles, and she wins
i am parting with
some charities
that only God can pay...
well and good,
that is what this feeling says
this conscience is not
dead
after all....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Buried To-Day
February 23, 1858.
BURIED to-day.
When the soft green buds are bursting out,
And up on the south wind comes a shout
Of village boys and girls at play
In the mild spring evening gray.
Taken away
Sturdy of heart and stout of limb,
From eyes that drew half their light from him,
And put low, low, underneath the clay,
In his spring--on this spring day.
Passes away
All the pride of boy-life begun,
All the hope of life yet to run;
Who dares to question when One saith 'Nay.'
Murmur not--only pray.
Enters to-day
Another body in churchyard sod,
Another soul on the life in God.
HIS Christ was buried--and lives alway:
Trust Him, and go your way.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

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