Money has no ears but it hears; no legs but it walks.
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Money Plays with Us
When we are without money, we eat vegetables at home;
When we have money, we eat vegetables in a fine restaurant.
When we are without money, we ride bicycle to work;
When we have money, we ride bicycle to exercise.
When we are without money, we walks to eat food;
When we have money, we walks to burn food.
When we are without money, we wish to get married;
When we have money, we wish to get divorced.
When we are without money, we acts like a rich;
When we have money, we acts like a pauper.
We say share market is bad but we keep on speculating;
We say money is evil but we keep on craving for it.
We say high positions are risky but we keep on struggling for it;
We say gambling & drinking is bad but we keeps on indulging on it.
O People!
Be content with whatever you have
And thank God for whatever you have
poem by Imran Khan
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‘Dogo Erectus’!
Standing on its hind-legs,
Wagging its long tail,
Panting with its tongue out,
Without its fore-legs!
Stands a dog so freak-born,
Until dusk, from morn;
Passers-by go pat him,
Giving things to eat!
Smiling canine always,
Walks like human beings;
With its hind-legs strong as
A Kangaroo’s back-feet!
Thrilling all the people,
Peering at the beast;
Stupefying crowds that
Throng to see his feat!
Living with just hind-legs,
The dog can’t go on fours;
Smiling to the people,
Everywhere, he goes.
Having just but two legs,
The dog walks, runs so neat;
‘What undaunted soul, God! ’
Say people on the street.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-26-2008
poem by John Celes
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The Dogs
My desires are upon me like dogs, I beat them back,
Yet they yelp upon my track;
And I know that my soul one day shall lie at their feet,
And my soul be these dogs' meat.
My soul walks robed in white where the saints sing psalms,
Among the lilies and palms,
Beholding the face of God through the radiant bars
Of the mystical gate of stars;
The robes of my soul are whiter than snow, she sings
Praise of immortal things;
Yet still she listens, still, in the night, she hears
The dogs' yelp in her ears.
O Most High! I will pray, look down through the seven
Passionate veils of heaven,
Out of eternal peace, where the world's desire
Enfolds thee in veils of fire;
Holy of Holies, the immaculate Lamb,
Behold me, the thing I am!
I, the redeemed of thy blood, the bought with a price,
The reward of thy sacrifice,
I, who walk with thy saints in a robe of white,
And who worship thee day and night,
Behold me, the thing I am, and do thou beat back
These feet that burn on my track!
I have prayed, God has heard; I have prayed to him, he has heard;
But he has not spoken a word;
My soul walks robed in white among lilies and palms,
And she hears the triumphing psalms;
But louder than all, by day and by night, she hears
The dogs' yelp in her ears;
And I know that my soul one day shall lie at their feet,
And my soul be these dogs' meat.
poem by Arthur Symons
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The conservatives
With legs one stands and walks.
The conservatives too have legs,
But they use them to stand.
The advantage is that they won’t slip.
15.03.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The organizational architecture is really that a centipede walks on hundred legs and one or two don't count. So if I lose one or two legs, the process will go on, the organization will go on, the growth will go on.
quote by Mukesh Ambani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pollen Call Is Rainbow Pot Of Gold To El Dorado
walk within fields walk within woods
walk upon prairie grass or wild tundra
all is listening nature all nature listens
observe quiet hare sure big ears hears
but the bumblebee does not have ears
how then is it a fuzzy bumblebee hears
it is not known whether a bumblebee hears
it is not known how fuzzy bumblebee hears
a bumblebee could hear sound waves passing
sound waves soft passing through freedom air
a bumblebee can feel the vibrations of sounds
vibrations of sounds through wood materials
a bumblebee could hear sound through legs
a bumblebee could hear sound through fuzz
fuzzy body to kept warm to keep out winds
to keep out wind chill so as not to catch chills
a bumblebee watches golden pollen showers
a bumblebee dances among flowers for hours
pollen call is rainbow pot of gold to El Dorado
vessels of golden one flower air in fertilization
flights seed flowers in colours shapes miraculous
heavens ablaze seed colour shape smell lure scent
heaven kiss nectar pollen rewards await joy flight
flights of impossibility sow wild flower seed scent
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Leg
I know your legs are
On the legs of Baali the demon king
I know your legs are
On the head of Bharata your brother
I know your legs are on the
Head of Uddhaba your follower.
You have no leg I heard.
I Know you are present everywhere
Everytime and in everybody.
I do not know what a leg is.
I know the insect has six legs
I know the animal has four legs
I know the bird has two legs.
Your leg is my project paper
I do not know howmany legs you have
I do not know I a leg is.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Money
Money
Money
Money
Important
Useful
Necessary
Money
Money
Money
Wealthy
Middle
Poverty
Money
Money
Money
Save
Give
Spend
Money
Money
Borrow
Lend
Money
Money
Foe
Friend
Money
Money
Master
Slave
Money
Money
Satisfied
Crave
Money
Money
Laugh
Cry
MoneyMoney
Live
Die
Money
Money
Sick
Well
Money
Money
Heaven
Hell
poem by Howard Simon
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Money Money Song
Money money
Is going to get me a girl
Money money
I am going to use it to buy me a cup of coffee
Money money
Is going to take me to Paris
Money money
Is going to buy me some new clothes
Money money
I am going to use it to do my laundry
Momey money
Is going to buy me some groceries
Money money
Is going to pay to fix my house
Money money
Is going to send me to the rich men's world
Money money is going to buy me a cellular phone
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Becoming Rich
May winning be absurd to the lame,
A limp has beaten the way so often;
The paths too trodden are the fair,
Bent on land, the legs have trekked.
Treacherous and trembling, the ways
Offer deceit and conception of ideas.
The treasury is about on its legs,
Money has been lame and lined here.
The mill of money is conjuring wealth
So best, blasting me with an odour of riches.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Love the money
Money
Is not money...
It is life....
Money is not
Money
It is happy...
Money is
Not money
It is faith...
Money is not
Money
It is friend...
Money is not
Money
It is life maker...
Money is not
Money...
It is your hard work...
Money is not
Money...
poors god...
money is not
Money
Rich people Cap...
Money is not
Money
World wide all...
Any or many thing money
With money...
So...
Love the money...
Each every day...
Earn too enjoy
with your's life...
witrh good...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Green Eyed Lady
the green eyed lady
as you see
is such a grand beauty
gentle, loving eyes
seductive, when they blink
they are like
love calls
sweet to the ears
of hungry men
when she walks
(oh, she walks in beauty
and i am not original on this)
when she passes at you
she makes you grow
your jeans getting tighter
and tighter
they may tear apart
between the legs
the lady with green eyes
is asking for you
your love and nothing else
so love her
like she is the only princess
in the castles of the blooming springs
but beware, be so aware
you pain her
you betray her
the lady with green eyes
knows her ways
fed up, she returns
and be the green eyed dragon
spitting fire
burning everything
and then she flies away with her hurting wings
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Money Talks
Money talks
While the time walks.
Money warms up your desires.
while everything else goes.
We forget to live.
while trying to pick up too much 'rose'!
so survive folks,
Lets do over time works,
To ride of falls
Dont get mad folks.
This is how the things works.
money opens closed locks.
No one cares how u doing
If u dont have enough'dolls'!
So wake up early every morning
so ur brain works.
Just Because in this world the money talks.
Work enough and you'll find opened doors.
You'll have farms even horses.
Big shining cars and huge houses.
But when the winter comes and the green falls.
The rain sweeps away the golden 'roses'.
When the white snow falls
No one has the chance to the better choice,
All ends up in the same place poor or rich then the money walks.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Eight Years Old
SUN, whom the faltering snow-cloud fears,
Rise, let the time of year be May,
Speak now the word that April hears,
Let March have all his royal way;
Bid all spring raise in winter’s ears
All tunes her children hear or play,
Because the crown of eight glad years
On one bright head is set to-day.
II.
What matters cloud or sun to-day
To him who wears the wreath of years
So many, and all like flowers at play
With wind and sunshine, while his ears
Hear only song on every way?
More sweet than spring triumphant hears
Ring through the revel-rout of May
Are these, the notes that winter fears.
III.
Strong-hearted winter knows and fears
The music made of love at play,
Or haply loves the tune he hears
From hearts fulfilled with flowering May,
Whose molten music thaws his ears
Late frozen, deaf but yesterday
To sounds of dying and dawning years,
Now quickened on his deathward way.
IV.
For deathward now lies winter’s way
Down the green vestibule of years
That each year brightens day by day
With flower and shower till hope scarce fears
And fear grows wholly hope of May.
But we—the music in our ears
Made of love’s pulses as they play
The heart alone that makes it hears.
V.
The heart it is that plays and hears
High salutation of to-day.
Tongue falters, hand shrinks back, song fears
Its own unworthiness to play
Fit music for those eight sweet years,
Or sing their blithe accomplished way.
No song quite worth a young child’s ears
Broke ever even from birds in May.
VI.
There beats not in the heart of May,
When summer hopes and springtide fears,
There falls not from the height of day,
When sunlight speaks and silence hears,
So sweet a psalm as children play
And sing, each hour of all their years,
Each moment of their lovely way,
And know not how it thrills our ears.
VII.
Ah child, what are we, that our ears
Should hear you singing on your way,
Should have this happiness? The years
Whose hurrying wings about us play
Are not like yours, whose flower-time fears
Nought worse than sunlit showers in May,
Being sinless as the spring, that hears
Her own heart praise her every day.
VIII.
Yet we too triumph in the day
That bare, to entrance our eyes and ears,
To lighten daylight, and to play
Such notes as darkness knows and fears,
The child whose face illumes our way,
Whose voice lifts up the heart that hears,
Whose hand is as the hand of May
To bring us flowers from eight full years.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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For Money
FOR MONEY
Man has become animal,
for money,
bloodshed,
\for money,
chaos of values,
for money,
two faces,
for money,
mammonism,
for money,
progress,
for money,
retrogress,
for money,
destruction of nature,
for money,
war,
for money,
but for money
what not?
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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A Pair Of Earings 1
The jewel of stone cut lights
A knife blade shaped an exquisite beauty
Quivering on my ears
I like their sound
I think it’s the way the lady bird walks
I think it’s the way the sparrow
Moves its little wings
I think it’s the light whispering into my ears
The dark wounds of a carved jewel
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Urgently
Money...$
What For?
Sharing
Not sure
For bills, need more
Money.
Money...
Plant a seed
It is what we all need
I want to plant you URGENTLY
A Money tree.
Money,
Is it for giving?
Money
High cost of living
Money.
Money,
Such crime
Money,
People doing time
Money.
Money...
Touching, everyones hands
Germs galore; who cares I have plans
For money.
Money...
Does it make the world turn
Yes, No
One day we will learn. $$$$$$$$$$$$
Money
Money money money
Everybody wants some
No money church can't run
Money for this
Money for that
No life without it
Can't sleep
She says hell
In this house
If she don't get it!
Before you get paid
Taxman grab it
Buy something
He grab it again
When money pressure hit
You cannot afford to get sick
Doctors want some
And if you dead without it
You will not be buried
Not even in the sticks
Money money money
It's like blood
It's the way world runs
Need money for food
Need money for fun
If you have no money
Blood a go run
Man join the army
To get some of it
Would be alive
If he had it
Money money money
Where is the money?
Have to get money
Before the day is done
Donkey cough
When you are broke
No money
Donkey don't eat
Everything stops
Earth can't turn
Have to have money
Even some to burn
Money money money
Where did it go?
Pocket is empty
And I just got paid
Maybe my woman took it
Thought I had it made
Thought I had a hundred
But I don't have twenty
Now I am in trouble
I have to leave yard
But I can't leave
If I don't have any
What a thing this is
Money! money! money!
Eh!
12/4/09
poem by Buxton Shippy
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In the morning a man walks with his whole body; in the evening, only with his legs.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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