Stewardesses are still paid so little that in many cases, new hires qualify for food stamps.
quote by Patricia Ireland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faye the eye of the Storm Part 4
I used to take her out once a month for her food stamps.She didn't even appreciate what I did for her. Thanks to me she didn't lose the food stamps because I told the social worker. She really needed her food stamps live on. written 8/17/08 Posted 11/9/08
poem by Susie Sunshine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spam & Eggs?
Middle class are now social dregs
Using food stamps instead of cash
Give up steak for spam & eggs
Soon may forage dumpster trash
ROTMS
Huffington Post
10/22/2010
“Lillie Gonzales does whatever it takes to provide for three ravenous sons who live under her roof. She grows her own vegetables at home on Kauai, runs her own small business and like a record 42 million other Americans, she relies on food stamps.
With more than 1 in 8 Americans now on food stamps, participation in the program has jumped about 70 percent from 26 million in May 2007, while the nation's unemployment rate rose from 4.3 percent to 9.2 percent through September of this year.
'We've seen a huge increase in participation due to the economic downturn, ' said Jean Daniel, a spokeswoman for the USDA's Food and Nutrition Service. 'That's the way this program was designed.'
poem by Ray Lucero
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I do a lot of running and hiking, and I also collect stamps - space stamps and Olympics stamps.
quote by Sally Ride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He that hires one garden eats birds; he that hires more than one will be eaten by the birds.
If each of us hires people who are smaller than we are, we shall become a company of dwarfs. But if each of us hires people who are bigger than we are, we shall become a company of giants.
quote by David Ogilvy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Justice, My
a poor woman lied
on her application for
food stamps about prior
drug convictions,
which was wrong...
but she did it to
feed her two children...
and she has paid the money back!
she got federal jail time.
big banks lied, cheated,
and basically stole on
applications for loans,
made a big profit,
showed a big loss,
and got bailout money...
justice, my ass!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lost
I did not come from a place,
To have my credentials certified.
With proof I qualify to be limited.
To then sit and become upset by this.
And this may be a disappointment,
To those who believe I can be affected that way.
But I have yet to see anything cemented,
That proves restrictions are fixed to stay.
I did not come from a place,
To have my credentials certified.
With proof I qualify to be limited.
To then sob with a weeping because of it.
Limitations and restrictions,
Are for those who follow them.
As conformists accepted collectively.
To discover they have paid the cost,
With the finding of themselves bewildered.
And lost.
In a professed confessed unity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Envy
The Envy
They do not pay me well, in this café, where
I work, so I take a little food home and drink
a little wine, when I can, because all the chefs
I read about make much more money than me.
When a big shot, in the world of finance, gets
paid a million in bonus, he takes it but grumble
for in his circle, he knows no one who are paid
less then this, but many who are paid more
When I get my pension after cooking food for
fifty years, it will not be much and I know of
no one who get less than me, but plenty who
receive much more and that makes me bitter.
But it’s sweet to know that those who make
more money than me are rancorous too ‘cause
they know of many very rich people who have
much more money than they have.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Evening Restaurant
The evening heaven’s restaurant activates, you’re among the last
Who line up outside, making discoveries with food in the mouth,
I’d go slow on the fritters cooked from days and nights in experience
Paid by the engineers of food, a real motley crew.
Jump a few million years ahead, all because of the husband,
Then trek to pursue an animal of a larger variety
As big as our dog, the very wonderful diplomatic creature.
Nostalgic for the years when you certainly paid for the best,
We talk and converse in the signs of an alien animal or spirit,
Finding food fun since the year out.
poem by Naveed Akram
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food stamps and meth labs,
all that's left, America!
bondage, slavery.
haiku by Eric Cockrell
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The automatic stabilizer is unemployment insurance, food stamps, additional coverage of Medicaid.
quote by Franklin Raines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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There are clear cases in which ""understanding"" literally applies and clear cases in which it does not apply; and these two sorts of cases are all I need for this argument.
quote by John Searle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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102
First one paid nine
then, two paid eight
then three paid seven
then, four paid six
then five paid five
then six paid four
then seven paid three
then eight paid two
and finally, nine paid one,
wee, wee, wee, wee, wee
all the way home.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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I've been not only articulating the dissatisfaction with Albany, I've been acting on it. I've been very aggressive in bringing public integrity cases and public corruption cases and bringing cases against sitting legislators.
quote by Andrew Cuomo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Equality... (In A Word)
equality...
in a word,
no more talk of
the 'land of the free'.
you founded this country
over the scattered bones
of 100,000,000 Native Americans.
built this country
on the backs of
African-American slaves,
and poor Scotch-Irish refugees,
who turned your earth,
and built your homes.
'give me your tired, your poor...'
more cheap labor?
to build your cities,
your railroads, work your steel.
how many faceless bodies buried
in your cold dark mines?
how many second class young men
sent off to war?
how many women paid less,
treated as less?
how many farmworker immigrants
paid too little,
treated like trash?
how many slum children
sent off to prison?
how many lives sold off
for bottom line profit?
disembodied jobless,
driven from their homes?
how many minimum wage slaves
praying for food stamps?
how many 'cant afford an education'
futures written in stone?
how many sparrows on the fence?
you want to honor those who've served?
all of these,
the people who have served you!
who have met your needs!
Memorial Day, an epitaph!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I grew up on food stamps. I come from a very humble background. And I've had many friends that have been destitute - you know, running into trouble - and places like The Midnight Mission have given them hope and have fed them and gotten them back on the right path.
quote by Debi Mazar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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