The miser will stubbornly live poorly in order to die rich.
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The Old Miser and his 3rd Wife
1
The Old Miser
my husband is dying
and he makes me promise
I must put all his money in his coffin
when he dies
“O my legal third wife
the only one surviving -
you must put all my money
secretly in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring away all the money
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
2
Now, he’s dead
and I’ve arranged for his funeral
and while everyone’s busy
with all these preparations
I dutifully take all his money
from the hiding place
which he whispered to me
with his last breath
and he bit my ear and he snarled:
“Put all my money
in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
3
So I take all his money
and bring it to the bank
and deposit it in my name
and make a cheque out for 10 million
and put the cheque below his head
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you can take all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
poem by Raj Arumugam
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For Years/ A Miser Of Every Minute
FOR YEARS/ A MISER OF EVERY MINUTE
For years
A miser of every minute
For my work.
And now near old age
I understand
All that time given to works
Never to be read,
And so
A seeming tranquility.
If all my time wasted
Why be a miser
Any longer?
And yet,
What have I done?
Can I somehow still
Do something?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Until we are only poorly paid, we shall also poorly work.
A proud pauper and a rich miser are contemptible beings.
The generous man grows rich in giving, the miser poor in taking.
A miser grows rich by seeming poor; an extravagant man grows poor by seeming rich.
quote by William Shenstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Him For Granted!
Why do you dissect my heart and mind now and then,
To find the clue of where I hide my flaws and false,
Why do you want to cut me into pieces with your cosmic knife?
When I hold your toes and cry for help as a single trust.
Lord, you are great, merciful, omnipresent and a forgiver,
When I am troubled, I would think that you are a tormentor,
When I am neglected, I would think that you are irresponsible,
When I am poorly clothed, I would think that you are a miser.
When we are in pain, we would think that you are the cause,
When we are battered, we would assume that you assault,
When we weep and depressed, we would blame you, my Lord,
When we are happy and successful we would think of you at last.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Oh, I wish I were a miser; being a miser must be so occupying.
quote by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich Music
Rich music like the morning sun, showers us with tender love
Touching our dear lives with so much tenderness to be won.
Rich music spreads peace right across the air like a gentle dove,
So that we can feel the need to live together as one.
Rich music fills the whole place with sounds of harmony above
That we can live in the world, so pleasant and filled with fun.
Rich music gives notes on how we can handle the inside of
Ourselves, so that we can live to shine like the sun.
Rich music tells how we can give our illness a good shove,
So that all the good we bring into our lives can be done.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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Another American Civil War
The rich are becoming richer than ever before
As the middle class is left expiring in its own gore.
Each day prices rise as people's confidence falls,
But wealthy are too busy to hear their desperate calls.
Rich are counting all the new money they're gaining
And can't believe that there's anyone complaining.
Like Medieval Times they live in castles behind walls,
Shielding them from the increasingly frantic calls.
As with their ancestors greed is the order of the day.
They have no interest in a poorer class with little say.
Only when downtrodden rise and demand their rights
Will walls fall and rich feel the pain of people's plights.
History is replete with middles classes becoming poor
Until they refuse to be ruled by the rich and declare war!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Curse and bliss
Over grown, others may cut you into size.
Poorly grown, others will help you to grow.
Being poor is not that much a curse.
Being rich is not that much a bliss.
11.06.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beginning, Middle And An End
Every story has
a beginning, middle and an end,
but don't ask me where I am
because I won't know until I die.
Some live poor, begging food everyday,
others live rich, as rich as Rockefeller.
Others live as gangsters just like Al Capone.
While others live as lawmen, Sherlock is the name
I live my life with stories
that flow from my pen
and everyone I write has
a beginning, middle and an end.
21 February 2012
poem by David Harris
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Show me a poorly uniformed troop and I'll show you a poorly uniformed leader.
quote by Robert Baden-Powell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirty Little Secret
I remember the good things
When they used to be exciting
When they had a spark
Now things seem more jaded
Like a dirty poorly kept secret
One we are not supposed to talk about
Fearful of the barbed tongues
Creatively stifled and bound
We keep ourselves from expression
But I remember, I remember
The good things and how they were
How they should be allowed to be
But for the selfish demands of others
The politics of the world govern
And we live almost fearful
While the good things remain
That dirty poorly kept secret
We are never supposed to talk about
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The miser does not own the gold, it is the gold that owns the miser.
While the miser is merely a capitalist gone mad, the capitalist is a rational miser.
I think it is inevitable that people program poorly. Training will not substantially help matters. We have to learn to live with it.
quote by Alan Perlis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robert the Bruce (To Douglas in Dying)
'MY life is done, yet all remains,
The breath has gone, the image not,
The furious shapes once forged in heat
Live on though now no longer hot.
'Steadily the shining swords
In order rise, in order fall,
In order on the beaten field
The faithful trumpets call.
'The women weeping for the dead
Are not sad now but dutiful,
The dead men stiffening in their place
Proclaim the ancient rule.
'Great Wallace's body hewn in four,
So altered, stays as it must be.
0 Douglas do not leave me now,
For past your head I see
'My dagger sheathed in Comyn's heart
And nothing there to praise or blame,
Nothing but order which must be
Itself and still the same.
'But that Christ hung upon the Cross,
Comyn would rot until time's end
And bury my sin in boundless dust,
For there is no amend.
'In order; yet in order run
All things by unreturning ways,
If Christ live not, nothing is there
For sorrow or for praise.'
So the king spoke to Douglas once
A little while before his death,
Having outfaced three English kings
And kept a people's faith.
poem by Edwin Muir
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Sonnet
The worldly prince doth in his sceptre hold
A kind of heaven in his authorities;
The wealthy miser, in his mass of gold,
Makes to his soul a kind of Paradise;
The epicure that eats and drinks all day,
Accounts no heaven, but in his hellish routs;
And she, whose beauty seems a sunny day,
Makes up her heaven but in her baby's clouts.
But, my sweet God, I seek no prince's power,
No miser's wealth, nor beauty's fading gloss,
Which pamper sin, whose sweets are inward sour,
And sorry gains that breed the spirit's loss:
No, my dear Lord, let my Heaven only be
In my Love's service, but to live to thee.
poem by Nicholas Breton
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