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Ballade Of Worldly Wealth
Money taketh town and wall,
Fort and ramp without a blow;
Money moves the merchants all,
While the tides shall ebb and flow;
Money maketh Evil show
Like the Good, and Truth like lies:
These alone can ne'er bestow
Youth, and health, and Paradise.
Money maketh festival,
Wine she buys, and beds can strow;
Round the necks of captains tall,
Money wins them chains to throw,
Marches soldiers to and fro,
Gaineth ladies with sweet eyes:
These alone can ne'er bestow
Youth, and health, and Paradise.
Money wins the priest his stall;
Money mitres buys, I trow,
Red hats for the Cardinal,
Abbeys for the novice low;
Money maketh sin as snow,
Place of penitence supplies:
These alone can ne'er bestow
Youth, and health, and Paradise.
poem by Andrew Lang

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thats Where My Money Goes
Words and music: alfie zappacosta, paul dean, gerald obrian
Shes so fine, shes so eccentric
And what she buys, must be authentic
I paid up, to keep her down
I go crazy when shes not around, yeah, yeah
Shes got me in the palm of her hand
But please understand
No one ever made me feel
Quite like a man
She does, oh ya
You see that little girl of mine
Thats where my money goes
Thats where my money goes
And I work hard (he works hard) I work overtime
Its no good, cause I cant save a dime
When I have it, I got to spend it
On my baby
Cause Im so dependent... ya... on love...
My friends tell me Im out of my mind
But its not a crime
Iii do anything to keep that girl all mine
Oh ya, all mine
Shes satisfied and it shows
Thats where my money goes
Thats where my money goes
So take it all baby
(solo)... now listen
My friends tell me Im out of my mind
But its not a crime
Ill do anything to keep that girl all mine
Oh ya, I know
Shes satisfied and it shows
Shes satisfied and it shows
Thats where my money goes (thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes
(thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes (thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes (thats where his money goes)
Ill tell ya
Shes satisfied and it shows
Thats where my money goes
(thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes
(thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes (thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes
Thats where his money goes
Bye, bye, money, hello happiness
song performed by by Loverboy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Man With Money
She wants a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
He buys her things she calls him honey,
she calls me poor boy,
What good could it do,
to give a love pure and true,
when any fool could understand,
she thinks that money makes the man,
She wants a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
She wants the things she'll buy with money,
not a poor boy,
a man with money,man with money,man with money,
Just down thwe street,
I know a place
When there asleep,
I'll cover my face,
I'll break the lock,open the door,
I'll slip inside, I'll rob the store,
Then I'll be a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
I'll buy her things, she'll call me honey,
not a poor boy,
A man with money, man with money, man with money, man with money
song performed by by Who

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Buys My Thought?
Who buys my thought buys not a bottle of honey
But strands of a hopeless future bottled up.
A future that is threatened
By mortal diseases threatened
The future of the African child.
Of eyes that look out and see an endangered tomorrow threatening an already imagined better future.
Who buys my thought buys not a haven of peace and bliss
But of battling thoughts.
Thoughts of what the future would be
The tomorrow of the African child.
Who buys my thought buys a strenous desire for a better tomorrow
A better tomorrow for the African child
Who buys my thought?
poem by Mabel C. Mozie

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Money Always
Armed with a dollar sign,
Sugar daddies are dancing a jig-saw dance,
Stamping the sweet sixteens down to thirteen,
Blinding them with a pound sign,
Teenagers are scrumbling for the white beads,
Risking their lives into attractiveness of the familiar pockets,
lmbined with the notion of sexual born disparity social deviance,
Mint boses, yes money, always money,
Money buys life, money buys death,
Joy and sadness equals money,
Hearing thud sounds of engine,
Benz, toyota, pajero and many more engines,
Which engineers trouble,
Sweets shake their bodies,
Hulling the hovering hearts of their prays,
Sugar daddies who are on seeing girlish shadows
Maintain a confusion with a pocketed dollar sound.
Mingled with a kwacha sign,
Minced with the notion of destruction,
To destroy girlish fuitfulness
And extinguishing lights of hope to their faces dark
All because of money,
Oh money! money is the root of all the evils
poem by George Dumbarton

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Money Can't Buy You Love
Money can buy everything for you
Except to make someone to really love you
If you go out to buy love with your money
You better know, money is the reason, she is selling her body
She may like you for your money
But, when it comes to the real love, she could be someone else’s honey
As long as you got the money, she will stick with you
But when you run out of money, she comes up with excuse to leave you
It doesn’t matter you dead or alive
Money is the one that let you have her “love”
Don’t get confused between word love and like
They don't mean the same, even though they sound alike
Remember, money just buys her physical body, not her mind
If you want to win her heart, you better treat her nice and be kind
Let’s hope money will never buy the love
Otherwise, that’s end of the romance and nice feeling and all the songs and movies will be made and all the books will be written about story of the love
Sam Arjomandi
poem by Sam Arjomandi

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How Little Money Buys
IT'S FUNNY HOW LITTLE MONEY BUYS.
JUST CARS AND HOUSES AND FANCY TIES.
IT HAS NO MEANING WHEN SOMEONE DIES.
JUST TO HEIRS WHO COVET ITS SIZE.
IT WON'T PLANT TRUTH WHEN JUSTICE LIES.
JUST DISTORT TRUTH WHEN JUSTICE TRIES.
IT'S NO SOLUTION FOR LONELY SIGHS.
JUST A CRUEL IMPOSTOR IN DISGUISE.
IT CAN'T EMBRACE A CHILD WHO CRIES.
JUST GIVE SAD HOPE, NOT LOVE THAT'S WISE.
IT WILL NEVER BUY A SINGLE SUNRISE.
JUST STEAL DAYS PROMISING A FALSE PRIZE.
IT'S FUNNY HOW LITTLE MONEY BUYS.
JUST 'WHATS' OF LIFE, NOT PRECIOUS 'WHYS'.
poem by Gregory Huyette

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On Calais Sands
ON Calais Sands the gray began,
Then rosy red above they gray;
The morn with many a scarlet van
Leaped, and the world was glad with May!
The little waves along the bay
Broke white upon the shelving strands;
The sea-mews flitted white as they
On Calais Sands!
On Calais Sands must man with man
Wash honor clean in blood to-day;
On spaces wet from waters wan
How white the flashing rapiers play,—
Parry, riposte! and lunge! The fray
Shifts for a while, then mournful stands
The Victor: life ebbs fast away
On Calais Sands!
On Calais Sands a little space
Of silence, then the plash and spray,
The sound of eager waves that ran
To kiss the perfumed locks astray,
To touch these lips that ne’er said “Nay,”
To dally with the helpless hands,
Till the deep sea in silence lay
On Calais Sands!
Between the lilac and the may
She waits her love from alien lands;
Her love is colder than the clay
On Calais Sands!
poem by Andrew Lang

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The Minds eye for M lady Allie
The beauty of the desert lands
Lies in the multi coloured sands
which vary with the light of day.
Only the nomad understands.
By night the dunes look black and grey
but alter when the moonbeams play
across the valleys and the peak.
Creating pictures which cannot stay.
The beauty that the nomads seek
is to the desert lands unique.
Invisible to western eyes
which view the barren sands as bleak.
The beauty of desert lies
in what the viewers mind supplies.
11-Apr-08
Rubaiyat Sonnet
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Poem about Poetry - the best poets
the best poets
might never
have lived at all
they are on
the money's trail
sealed
their yearning
like a treasure chest
the best poets
might be a
suffering corpse
a soul locked
in a prison
with gold that
never buys his
innate pleasure
money blinds
money can lead
a person to his grave
mentally, with heart
and soul thrown in
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Question Of Happiness
Money owned by rich men
Buys temples to store their gold
Though these temples money they defend
Do they within their wall, happiness hold
(date written unknown)
poem by David Harris

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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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Sestina #2
why
I don't care for the money
I don't care for nothing
because every feeling you had was no more that words
but they have been my food
and never filled me, you had nothing to quench my thirst
thirst
I'm tires of the repetion tell me why.
my body is dying I need food
I'm sorry I made a mistake, but I want no money
just countless words
that speakes to nothing
Nothing
my three days are up, I beg thee quench my thirst
I'm so pleased to say those words
my rhetorical question is: why?
I rather to live in the 30's than to have money
I rather live without food
fourth time I said food
Dear, it's nothing.
You shown me that before, I HATE IT, the money.
emotions are dry. and I thirst
...you moke me, why?
they are more than words
they are Words
an entity that my mind's eye use as food
something is new, again why?
i'm teary eyed. It's nothing
situation change, but I'll never dout my thirst.
You are wrong, my mind does not want money
money
it makes lame all your words
your eye is dim, you thirst.
the lines I writes can be your food
but you want nothing
I don't care. don't ask, why
I'm tired of the symobles for money, because they have no belly for food
esoteric words, impressing nothing.
And i still still thrist...why?
poem by Victoria Lee

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Money Talks
Scene: into flashs den - a night club
Scene: in flashs den, a night club partly converted into an office.
Sung by flash, floosies and spivs:
Show me a man who says he can live without bread
And Ill show you a man whos a liar and in debt.
Theres no one alive who cant be purchased or enticed
Theres no man alive who wouldnt sell for a price,
Money talks and were the living proof,
There aint no limit to what money can do
Money talks, money talks.
Money cant breathe and money cant see,
But when I pull out a fiver people listen to me.
Money cant run and money cant walk,
But when I write out a cheque I swear to God I hear money talk.
Money talks and, baby, when youve been bought
You pay attention everytime money talks.
Money talks, money talks.
Money talks and theres no doubt about it
Money talks and we cant live without it,
Whats the point of living unless youve got money?
I just couldnt function without money.
Money talks, money talks,
Money talks, money talks.
Show me an upright respected man
And Ill have him licking my boots when I put money in his hand.
It rots your heart, it gets to your soul,
Before you know where you are youre a slave to the green gold.
Money talks and were the living proof
There aint no limit to what money can do.
Money talks you out of your self-respect,
The more you crave it the cheaper you get.
Money talks, money talks.
Money buys you time and people listen,
Money can buy a smile and make life worth living.
If youre ugly money can improve you.
I just couldnt face the world without mazuma.
Money talks, money talks.
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Shiftng Sands (Love Poem)
Half a million miles a year,
My carry-on is my home.
Living in three shirts, in
Indifferent cold hotels,
In far-away lands is like,
My shifting sands in life,
Until I see you again.
Sometimes I get homesick,
For places I’ve not yet been,
Where I will feel at peace alone,
Everywhere I make my home,
But without you this is like,
My shifting sands of life
Until I see you again.
poem by Ian Beckett

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Money buys many things... The best of which is freedom.
quote by Mary Renault

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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