When I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left I buy food and clothes.
quote by Desiderius Erasmus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I get a little money, I buy books. And if there is any left over, I buy food.
Money
Money is the root of all evil,
Money was blessed by the devil,
Money, money can kill,
Money can cheat, steal…
Ask the disbarred lawyer,
What this sad creature
Can do: It can commit suicide,
Money, money can divide,
Money is not what you think it is,
Having money is not going to put you really at ease,
On the contrary, you’ll have fewer friends,
And more creatures showing their hands,
Claws, guns and deadly weapons.
Money will not send you to the heavens,
Money, money is dirty and evil;
Money is a sick devil.
Money and women don’t mix,
Just like alcohol and driving.
Having hush money is not a quick fix,
But a dangerous way to go down the ravine.
Money is not what you think it is,
Having money is not going to put you really at ease.
Money exists to be spent:
To buy food, clothes, and to pay the rent.
Be careful with money,
Money is not a faithful honey.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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If I Could
If I could make my living going fishing
Then I would make my living with a line and pole
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money going fishing like Im paid at the factory
If I could pay all these bills with my guitar
Then I would pay these bills with some rock and roll
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money playing guitar like Im paid at the factory
Chorus:
Now if I could (if I could)
Then I would (then I would)
Make money doing something that I love
Id thank my lucky stars above
If I could just get by loving you dear
Then I would just get by making love to you
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Repeat chorus:
If I could make my living going fishing
Then I would make my living with a line and pole
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money going fishing
Like Im paid at the factory
Repeat chorus:
If I could just get by loving you dear
Then I would just get by making love to you
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 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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Money Can Buy
Money can buy a house,
But not a home.
Money can buy a pen,
Not a writing.
Money can buy a book,
But not knowledge.
Money can buy a fan
But not wind.
Money can buy a bed,
But not sleep.
Money can buy an equipment,
But not a skill.
Money can buy food,
But not appetite.
Money can buy luxuries,
But not culture.
Money can buy amusement,
But not happiness.l
poem by Anju Addanki
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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
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Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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Money
We walk down many avenues,
and along many streets,
unfortunately none are paved with gold.
We have to make our own riches,
for when we do we appreciate them more.
If we were given wealth untold,
we would not appreciate it.
Better to earn our money,
we then appreciate it more.
Money can buy many things,
with that I will agree,
but money cannot buy everything,
and those word are also true.
It cannot buy the respect,
from our fellow man,
that has to be earnt too.
It cannot buy lasting love,
as that comes once,
only in our lifetime.
Nor can it buy happiness
that can only come from within us.
Money can buy material things,
clothes and food as such.
But it can ever buy
those most precious things
that we all hold so dear.
It will never buy,
another’s warm and loving soul,
who will be beside us,
throughout of lasting days.
17 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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Superstar
Who's that girl that considers her self a super woman and
Who's that girl thats independent and hard working and
Who's that girl that can cook and got some good lovin' and
whos that girl that can take it down on her man and turn it into something
[Chorus]
You's a superstar
thats what you are
money, clothes and fancy cars
So high your on the top
You's a superstar
that's what you are
money, clothes and fancy cars
so high your on the top
Tell me who's that man with them 20 inches under that wide body benz and who's that man
sitting in VIP just a thuggin'
and who's that man all the ladies are kissin and huggin
tell me whos that man that the whole ghetto is lovin'
[Chorus]
You's a superstar
thats what you are
money, clothes and fancy cars
So high your on the top
You's a superstar
that's what you are
money, clothes and fancy cars
so high your on the top
Tell me y'all who's that girl that looks so good and dress so sexy
and Who's that girl thats got me wanting her next to me
and who's that girl that with one look can knock me of my feet
and who's that girl that can take me striaght into extasy
[Chorus]
You's a superstar
thats what you are
money, clothes and fancy cars
So high your on the top
You's a superstar
that's what you are
money, clothes and fancy cars
so high your on the top
Tell me y'all Who's that man that considers himself to be full grown
and whos that man that claims the world to be his own
and who's that man with a gentle heart and a pleasent tone
but when you mess with his money
he's quick to go upside you
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On packing Lay out all your clothes and all your money. Then, take half the clothes and twice the money.
quote by Susan Butler Anderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Way No Way Blues
I am not rich
And I can't afford to feed all the homeless in Toronto
But there is food banks that they can go and get some food to eat
So that they do'n t starve
But the homeless instead of going to the food bank they stay in the streets
Of home and begs for money at the streets of home
But I don't give money because I know that they are not going to use it for Food but they will use it to buy alcohol and destroy their liver in no Time
What ashame
And for that I say no way no way
poem by Aldo Kraas
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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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The Poem You Asked For
My poem would eat nothing.
I tried giving it water
but it said no,
worrying me.
Day after day,
I held it up to the llight,
turning it over,
but it only pressed its lips
more tightly together.
It grew sullen, like a toad
through with being teased.
I offered it money,
my clothes, my car with a full tank.
But the poem stared at the floor.
Finally I cupped it in
my hands, and carried it gently
out into the soft air, into the
evening traffic, wondering how
to end things between us.
For now it had begun breathing,
putting on more and
more hard rings of flesh.
And the poem demanded the food,
it drank up all the water,
beat me and took my money,
tore the faded clothes
off my back,
said Shit,
and walked slowly away,
slicking its hair down.
Said it was going
over to your place.
poem by Larry Levis
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Larry Levis
My poem would eat nothing.
I tried giving it water
but it said no,
worrying me.
Day after day,
I held it up to the llight,
turning it over,
but it only pressed its lips
more tightly together.
It grew sullen, like a toad
through with being teased.
I offered it money,
my clothes, my car with a full tank.
But the poem stared at the floor.
Finally I cupped it in
my hands, and carried it gently
out into the soft air, into the
evening traffic, wondering how
to end things between us.
For now it had begun breathing,
putting on more and
more hard rings of flesh.
And the poem demanded the food,
it drank up all the water,
beat me and took my money,
tore the faded clothes
off my back,
said Shit,
and walked slowly away,
slicking its hair down.
Said it was going
over to your place.
poem by Larry Levis
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Take things for granted
We all take things for granted,
Like we have mobile phones,
A nice warm house,
Clean clothes and clean water,
Fresh food,
And a nice cosy bed.
People in other countries,
Don't have all of that,
They wish they do,
They want clean water,
They want food,
And a warm secure home.
We take other things for granted like:
Education to learn,
Jobs to get money,
Shops to buy food,
Toys, games and computers to entertain,
Also hospitals and cures for diseases.
Poor countries don't get education,
To learn like us,
They don't have jobs to get money,
Or shops to get food,
Or hospitals or games,
They make their own toys and dolls,
From materials near by.
We take loads of things for granted,
We just don't realise it.
Wrote when in a random mood
poem by StaceyLeigh Olner
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Families Falling Apart, Together
families falling apart,
together...
jobs lost, houses lost...
pooling what little
they have left...
just holding on.
no insurance,
mailbox money,
food stamps, and
whatever they can scuff.
travelling in beat up old cars,
or walking... nowhere to go.
same clothes they wore yesterday,
and the day before...
the youngest daughter's pregnant,
again... but hell,
they're passing out cheese
and potatoes at the church....
Jesus died for their sins,
but no one else knows their names!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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