The drunkard and the glutton come to poverty, and drowsiness clothes a man with rags.
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Rags & Old Iron
Norman curtis, oscar brown jr
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
I heard that old rag man now making his rounds
He came right to my alley lord with sorrowful sounds
Crying rags old iron and pulling his cart
Ask him how much hed give me for my broken heart
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay
For a heart that was broken baby when you went away
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
For those big empty promises you used to make
For those memories of you that are no longer sweet
I wish he could haul them off down the street
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
When love doesnt last tell me what is it worth
It was once mamas most precious possession on earth
When I asked that old rag man if hed like to buy
He just shook his head and continued to cry
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron rags old iron
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who does not notice you in rags will not notice you in nice clothes, who notices you in rags will also motice you in nice clothes.
21st Century Cries.
21st century cries.
World has advanced in many ways, yet poverty still cries.
Looking at this old man with tears in his eyes.
Desperately searching for food love and clothes.
We all know what it clearly indicates and shows.
I see poverty in a rich man trying to break the law.
I see poverty in a well-educated man who thinks the subject is a bore.
I see poverty in a literate man who lacks respect for poor.
I see poverty in you yes you who wants more and more.
Written by salma torrez.
copyright.
poem by Salma. Torrez
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Today... 'Friend of publicans and sinners
The Son of Man came here eating and drinking
'He is a glutton' all the priests were thinking.
But wisdom by all her children is proved right
truth's revealed only to those who've seen the light.
This Jesus in His mercy befriended me
and died to make me part of His family.
No glutton or drunkard is this Friend of mine
but head of the table at which I will dine.
Behold what luxurious food loads the board
When at His heavenly table sits the Lord.
The wine is so rich and the bread how so sweet
when Jesus invites sinners with Him to eat.
Where would I be if Jesus was not my Friend?
I dread to think how my sinful life would end.
Standing alone before God's white Judgement Throne.
No Intercessor to help and on my own.
For those who the world ignores and dismisses
the Son of Man showers with love and kisses.
Seeking sinners and tax collectors to save
He endured the cross and rose up from the grave.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Sonnet: The Magic of Poverty
A birth in poverty is luck supreme!
A death in poverty, a great blessing;
A life of poverty is rare a dream;
Achievements great, stark poverty can bring.
’Tis poverty that goads nations do feats;
’Tis poverty that stimulates scientists;
In everything, poverty, wealth just beats;
The greatest men were in poverty’s lists.
And poverty lessens our worries much;
Account to God will be much easier;
Poverty gives the saint a divine touch;
In poverty, poets can fly higher!
Poverty helps to shun worldly pleasures;
A soul in poverty, Heaven allures.
9-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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Poverty and Indigence.
Poverty and Indigence.
Is it poverty, ?
Is it indigence, ?
The Master of Paranoia,
Do they know poverty, ?
When they lack troth,
When you are in poverty,
Theres no water,
No clothes,
No basic needs,
Indigence is when you are in the streets,
You keep on calling,
Saying,
I be here and saying I'm poor,
You're rich, oh stiff creature,
You're having eyes and can walk,
Lovable creature,
You never missed a single bliss since Creation,
You're never poor,
Ever rich,
Forever rich for the Heavenly Sanctuary.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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There is no scandal like rags, nor any crime so shameful as poverty.
quote by George Farquhar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's no scandal like rags, nor any crime so shameful as poverty.
quote by George Farquhar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A drunkard would not give money to sober people. He said they would only eat it, and buy clothes and send their children to school with it.
quote by Samuel Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shadow Inside My Shadow
poverty is not my cousin,
is not my lover,
is not my preacher,
poverty is not my brother.
poverty is not my prayer,
or the song that i sing
is not my answer
poverty is not my dream.
poverty is not my teacher,
not the hand that i hold.
poverty is not my anger,
not my spirit, not my soul.
ah! but this poverty is real
it races thru my mind
crashes into my heart,
& leaves me deaf and blind.
poverty is my companion.
the aching cold inside my hollow.
the blow behind my eyes,
poverty is the shadow
inside my shadow.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Aint No Drunkard
Baby I aint no
Drunkard I've got
Self-control
Baby I aint no
Drunkard, I'm just
Addicted to alcohol
Baby I aint no
Drunkard on alcohol
I don't depend
Alcohol is just
My best friend
Baby I aint no
Drunkard its just
That simple
Baby I don't need
No crutch
Because I aint
No cripple
poem by Dorsey Baker
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He whose clothes are too fine, shall go about in rags.
The Glutton Mistress****************1978
glutton for punishment is the name of the game
living in that kind of hell, is quite a shame.
never knowing from one day to another
if he'll leave you as a mother.
so you go right back with your head held high
nose in the air touching the sky.
untill his feelings finally die.
then and only then, will you finally realize
a glutton mistress can not compromise.
poem by Louis Rams
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Rags To Riches
(words & music by adler - ross)
I know Id go from rags to riches
If you would only say you cared
And though my pockets may be empty
Id be a millionaire
My clothes may still be torn and tattered
But in my heart Id be a king
Your love is all that ever mattered
Its everything
So open your arms and youll open the door
To all the treasure that Im living for
Hold me and kiss me and tell me youre mine evermore
Must I forever stay a beggar
Whose golden dreams will not come true
Or will I go from rags to riches
My fate is up to you
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Give Me Back My Rags #1
Give me back my rags
My rags of pure dreaming
Of silk smiling of striped foreboding
Of my cloth of lace
My rags of spotted hope
Of burnished desire of chequered glances
Of skin from my face
Give me back my rags
Give me when I ask you nicely
Trans. by Anne Pennington
Anonymous submission.
poem by Vasko Popa
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This And That
I ASKED FOR BREAD!
A STONE THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR WATER!
A CUP OF VENOM THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR MEAT!
LO! VEGETABLES THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR CLOTHES!
AND THEY GAVE ME RAGS!
I ASKED FOR WEALTH!
AND THEY GAVE ME POVERTY!
I ASKED FOR PEACE!
AND THEY GAVE ME TROUBLES!
I ASKED FOR LOVE!
AND THEY GAVE ME WICKEDNESS!
TEMPT NOT THIS LORD!
ASK ME NOT FOR HELP!
FOR I SHALL GIVE TO YOU AS YOU GAVE TO ME!
TEMPT ME NOT I SAY!
ASK ME NOT FOR THIS!
FOR I SHALL GIVE YOU THAT!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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He who wears too fine clothes, shall go about in rags.
Charlie & Fred
(clarke / hicks / nash)
He rides on his horse and cart, charlie does.
Working from six until nine.
Collecting old rags and used bicycles,
Old iron of description of any kind.
Here comes charlie, charlie the ragman.
Throw out your old clothes for charlie and fred.
Earning a living off things weve discarded.
Earning enough for the board and the bed.
You hear him shout rags and old iron.
Everyone knows him that way.
Once a week, they come round calling.
How long its been, I cant say.
Chorus
They live all alone in a hovel.
He puts his money away.
Taking enough to just live on,
And at the end of the day
Hes saving enough
To put fred out to graze.
(repeat)
Has anyone seen charlie lately?
Charlie just aint been around.
Everyones seen fred is grazing,
Chewing the grass from the ground.
Children say charlie is happy
Giving balloons to the angels instead.
Where is charlie, charlie the ragman?
Dont throw your clothes out.
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poverty In The 21st Century
It’s the 21st century
The media displays it day and night,
Poverty.
Poverty across the globe lies
Poverty cries out from the belly of little boys
Little girls, parents too
Desperately searching for food,
Shelter, clothing, for love,
Companion, for attention
Those with plenty, refuse
To amend, a world haunted by
Poverty.
Is poverty affecting the rich?
Are their poverty the same
As the poor in financial constrains?
For they, too, poverty of love
I see poverty in the learned
I see poverty in those whose
Selfish acts are destroying society.
I see poverty in all level of humanity
The world is still an imperfect place
Yet life is still beautiful, the wind
Blows, we see it not, give thanks
For what you possess, now go,
Help if you can along the way,
Help to eradicate poverty
In your surrounding, widen
Your boundary across your
Country, to nations of the world.
Help to fight poverty, now!
poem by Winston Harding
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Ode to Poverty
poetry in progress
i have seen poverty
climb stairs to make
that morning paper
available at the top floor
i have seen poverty
climb stairs to sell that
wrapped farm chicken
quiet and bowed,
in a one star hotel
i have seen poverty light
oil lamp in the dead of night
with the hope to leap from rags
to cosier enclave through
pen and ink, alphabets,
arab numerals, mind spinning algebras,
logarithms, and medical lexicons
i have seen poverty
take men across turbulent seas
oceans, to strange lands
to make money for home
thousands of miles away
i have seen poverty sweats
from dawn till dusk
under the tropical sun
smoothening highways,
coating multi-storey buildings
i have seen poverty carry
a senile Chinese woman on
shoulders up a famous hill resort
she to admire her honeymoon spot
he to put meals on the table
for mom and dad, brothers and sisters
i have seen poverty gulp
men and women in the seas,
throw them helter skelter
in a murderous web of human
trafficking and slavery
i have seen poverty turn
graceful beautiful maidens
into thin, nerve wracking
frames, wrinkles and flesh
driven to the edge of existence
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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