The man who has his millions will want everything he can lay his hands on and then raise his voice against the poor devil who wants ten cents more a day.
quote by Samuel Gompers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Bonaparte Raise On Heap Of Bones Apart!
One NAPOLEON BONAPARTE,
Raise above all,
Shattering million people's bones apart!
One Hitler can raise above all,
On foolishness of millions of butlers
One Christ can raise above all,
If can raise above million thrusts
of hunger, lust and thirst!
One Buddha can raise,
If he can remain completely Shuddha
One Ashoka can raise to become Ashoka, only on
The heap of million HEART'S shoka!
One love symbol Taj Mahal can raise only on tombless graves millions of love!
One Shankara can raise,
Killing one's Ahankara!
One Vivekananda can raise,
Finding the roots of Viveka and Ananda!
One SOUL can raise,
Only if can raise above
All that is untrue and thoughts that are foul!
AUM AUM AUM
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Millions Do Live In Poverty
That millions do live in poverty should never be seen as okay
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps getting bigger by the day
Everyone should have the chance to live happy a home to live in and enough for to eat
There never should be slums and ghettos and never a poverty street,
That millions are born to live in poverty and to end their hard lives in despair
Only tells us if there's a god that god favours the wealthy and that god is not very fair
To leave millions homeless and dying of malnutrition the people condemned to die poor and young
In the refugee camps of the World live the displaced, the poor and unsung,
In the age of celebrity worship the poor in millions multiply
Why millions are destined to be poor don't ask me I wouldn't know why
Even in the World's wealthiest Countries poor people are no longer rare
And millions and millions of have nots in the bigger World out there
And millions are dying of hunger and millions are doing it tough
And millions are displaced and homeless and as refugees living it rough.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sedated
Queing up
Body searched
Ripped off
In the face of a guy with a grin
Feeling blessed whe he lets you in
Raise your hands, the night begins
Raise your hands, the night begins
Broken thrills
Broken pills
Vibrate
Your eyes dilate
Raise your hands, the night begins
You wanna be sedated
Say what you feel, do what you want
You look so good, you look so fine
Raise your hands, raise your hands
In the ultimate sky
Get high
You wanna be sedated
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sedated
Queing up
Body searched
Ripped off
In the face of a guy with a grin
Feeling blessed whe he lets you in
Raise your hands, the night begins
Raise your hands, the night begins
Broken thrills
Broken pills
Vibrate
Your eyes dilate
Raise your hands, the night begins
You wanna be sedated
Say what you feel, do what you want
You look so good, you look so fine
Raise your hands, raise your hands
In the ultimate sky
Get high
You wanna be sedated
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Few Cents Short
(john michael montgomery)
Looking for spare change
To put gas in my car
But what Ive found
Wont get me very far
Seems lately the low times
Have hit me pretty hard
cause Im a few cents short
From getting to where you are
Im a few cents short
Of holding you in my arms
And a few cents short
Of keeping us from falling apart
Aint it funny how the money
Can change our lives
cause Im a few cents short
From losing you tonight
So I walked to a pay phone down the road
But a few dimes and a nickel is all I had
The operator wants more money
To place my call
But Im a few cents short
If that dont beat it all
Im a few cents short
Of holding you in my arms
And a few cents short
Of keeping us from falling apart
Aint it funny how the money
Can change our lives
cause Im a few cents short
From losing you tonight
Im a few cents short
Of holding you in my arms
And a few cents short
Of keeping us from falling apart
Sure is funny how the money
Can change our lives
cause Im a few cents short
From losing you tonight
Yes Im a few cents short
And Ill be losing you tonight
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In 1973, women got 59 cents on the dollar; now we are getting 74 cents on the dollar. In the area of finance and business, we are at 68 cents on the dollar.
quote by Billie Jean King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Spring, the lord of the seasons
Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth,
there the Unstruck Music sounds of itself,
There the streams of light flow in all directions;
Few are the men who can cross to that shore!
There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands folded,
Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads,
Where millions of Brahmas are reading the Vedas,
Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation,
Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky,
Where the demi-gods and the munis are unnumbered,
Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play on the veena
There is my Lord self-revealed:
and the scent of sandal and flowers dwells in those deeps.
Rosanna and 40 cents
Rosanna was my schoolmate
Sharing the same classroom for four years
When we first met, I was afraid
Something of her that I feared
She’s bigger and taller
Beautiful like a mayflower
Looked at me like I was her little brother
But deep inside, treated me like her lover
We were together
Everywhere thereafter
Was talk of the school
It was cool
To be labeled
As the most ideal couple
What’s made me attractive to her?
My principality and discipline
60 cents a day given by mother
20 cents a day for fried banana and a drink
At school, that was my daily meals
It’s a frill and thrill
When you can save 40 cents
It would make sense
The result will come in the end
Between Rosanna and 40 cents
She definitely will understand
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Have Been Millions And Millions Of Years
THERE HAVE BEEN MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF YEARS
There have been millions and millions of years
And there will be millions and millions more
And I have had only less than seventy-
There is so much to see and be and know
I could understand far more than I do now
I have so much beauty and hope and love in me
Why do I have to die?
It does not seem fair or wise
So much waste and loss in my dying
Worlds in me that will never be known.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drop Your Guns
(david henman)
Published by summerlea music, ltd. - bmi
Look at all the places we been, and look where we are
Something is amiss here cause we never seem to get very far
Now I got a feeling, a plan, some music to sing
And Im looking for the right words to convey the message we bring
If you can hear it, mmm, Im gettin near it, if I can say it
Drop your guns, and raise your hands in the air
Youre the one that started all the trouble out there
Grease me, Im near you, blast me, Im in your way
Youre the thing in a song, that really ought to be put away
Now I got a feeling, a plan, some music to sing
And Im looking for the right words to convey the message we bring
If you can hear it, Im gettin near it, if I can say it
Drop your guns, and raise your hands in the air
Drop your guns, and raise your hands in the air
Drop your guns, and raise your hands in the air
Drop your guns, and raise your hands in the air
Drop your guns, and raise your hands in the air
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drinking With The Devil
I never felt like this before
I think Im gonna explode
Had so much I couldnt take no more
Im heading for an overload
Oh no here I go
I can see the end
Looked around and I heard the sound
Of have one more my friend
Drinking with the devil
Gonna raise some hell
Im just a rock and roll rebel
Got my soul to sell
Out all night till the sun comes up
You know Im never gonna learn
Raise my glass and fill my cup
Im playing with fire
And Im gonna get burned
Like before he walked through the door
A glass was in his hand
Sat me down and poured me one more
And said Im at you command
And I was drinking with the devil
Gonna raise some hell
Im just a rock and roll rebel
Got my world to sell
Out all night till the sun comes up
You know Im never gonna learn
Raise my glass and fill my cup
Im playing with fire
And Im gonna get burned
Like before he walked through the door
A glass was in his hand
Sat me down and poured me one more
And said Im at your command yes I am
Drinking with the devil
Gonna raise some hell
Im just a rock and roll rebel
Got my soul to sell
Drinking with the devil
You know I had my fill
Drinking with the devil
And he sticks me with the bill
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Land Of Planty
Don?t really know who sent me
To raise my voice and say:
May the lights in The Land of Plenty
Shine on the truth some day.
I don?t know why I come here,
Knowing as I do,
What you really think of me,
What I really think of you.
For the millions in a prison,
That wealth has set apart ?
For the Christ who has not risen,
From the caverns of the heart ?
For the innermost decision,
That we cannot but obey -
For what?s left of our religion,
I lift my voice and pray:
May the lights in The Land of Plenty
Shine on the truth some day.
I know I said I?d meet you,
I?d meet you at the store,
But I can?t buy it, baby.
I can?t buy it anymore.
And I don?t really know who sent me,
To raise my voice and say:
May the lights in The Land of Plenty
Shine on the truth some day.
I don?t know why I come here,
knowing as I do,
what you really think of me,
what I really think of you.
For the innermost decision
That we cannot but obey
For what?s left of our religion
I lift my voice and pray:
May the lights in The Land of Plenty
Shine on the truth some day.
[Thanks to [email protected] for these lyrics]
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To pay out millions upon millions of dollars in bonuses for incomplete work, poor performance, and unacceptable products is the height of government waste and mismanagement.
quote by Jim Gibbons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gonna Raise Hell
Words and music by rick nielsen
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Ambition? ha!
If all Ive heard is true,
Theres nothin much I can do
To change the world, its irreversible.
But in what it lacks,
Its got a taste that smacks of somethin irresistable.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Submission? yes!
Now I wont name names, and a secrets a secret,
But a hints a hint or a clue.
You really wanna know, you really wanna go,
Theres only two things you got to do.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Mother, mother.
Mother, mother.
Mother, mother.
My mission? ah, yes!
Everybody hear? everybody here,
Its a fate I all agree.
Sometimes you win, I never lose,
To me its no mystery.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
(repeat to coda)
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poverty Is A Relative Thing
It is true poverty is a relative thing
A poor bloke buys his girlfriend a ten dollar ring
But to a pauper one with ten dollars is not poor at all
What to one seems big to another seems small,
That poverty is a relative thing seems so true
You may well be poor but many poorer than you
There are millions of homeless on Poverty Street
Searching in rubbish bins to find something to eat
And there are millions who lay down to rest hungry at night
And sleep in the open under the starlight
At least you have a roof over your head and a bed on which to lie
And it will not be of malnutrition that you will die
And of those down on their luck the singer may sing
But poverty can be a relative thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fifty Cents A Day
I am an humble Soldier
far from my friends and home,
mid scenes of war and hardships
I constantly must roam,
with many officers over me,
and them I must obey,
and do just what they tell me,
for fifty cents a day.
I enlisted in the army
to help my country's cause,
because I loved it dearly,
and would sustain its laws,
I felt a free man's duty,
his country to obey,
I came not as a hireling,
for fifty cents a day
I enlisted as a soldier.
a free man and a man
To do a soldiers duty,
as best a soldier can.
hope to fight the rebels,
and hate this long delay.
I came to help my country,
for fifty cents a day.
I now must yield to hardships
in cold in storm and rain
perchance with scanty rations
not even then complain
the right of seeking comfort
long since I signed away
my life I am slowly losing
for fifty cents a day.
who send the soldiers to the field
to buy his willing hand,
with promises so plentiful,
of treatment like a man?
twas those who, in two days,
received a larger pay
than does the soldiers in a month
at fifty cents a day
who promised to the soldier,
his wrongs should be redressed
if tyanny or officers
should his right oppress?
alas! the sword may smight him,
or kicked around he may be,
he finds his only redress,
is fifty cents a day
who promised to the soldiers,
if sickness should appear,
good doctors and kind nurses
was ready and was near,
to aid him in his feebleness
as quick as though his pay
was ten times as much
as fifty cents a day.
twas those who wear the shoulder straps
with haughty air of grace,
who look upon the soldier
below the negro race,
who thinks a soldier's duty
is only to obey
his lordship, and be content
with fifty cents a day.
how oft I've seen the soldier,
near tottering to the ground,
seek vainly for some friendly aid,
when it could ne'er be found,
when told he was not ailing,
to go and take his way,
one week would end his suffering
and fifty cents a day.
now, how many of these officers
would be here where they are,
if forced to live like soldiers,
and take a soldier's fare?
how few would take the treatment
even with their liberal pay,
let alone the poor pittance
of fifty cents a day
cheer up my gallant soldiers,
be cheerful, gay, and smile,
we'll do the fighting now,
and the voting after awhile,
and then we'll show oppressors
that they may fell dismay,
who treated us as serviles,
at fifty cents a day.
This poem was written by my great, great, great, grandfather when he was a POW in the civil war. He wrote this during the month of December 1863. I wanted to share this with everyone in memory of him.
poem by Shauna Stoltz
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Fragment 8
To you God
I raise my hands in prayer
My work
My ambition
My silence
I raise my hands in prayer
To you God
I bow myself
Like a monk prostrate on the cold floors
Asking for wisdom
Asking for guidance
Asking for mercy
I raise my soul in prayer
I leave my body stripped of desire
I leave everything to you
To you God
Take charge of my life
I am hopeless
I am loveless
I am empty
I am blown away
I am light
I am consumed
I am a well without water
I am nothing
To you God
I give up everything
I am yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faces On Hands, Hands On Heart
news blackout, streets packed out,
politicians inside trade deals....
feed the poor, Communist whores,
dont know how despair feels!
Jefferson raise a cup, Crazy Horse rises up,
freedom's a blood filled rainbow...
homeless jobless, insulated snobness,
fighting for today and tomorrow.
faces on hands, hands on heart,
a small fire strong against the dark.
all God's children doing their part....
faces on hands, hands on heart!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Land Of Plenty
Dont really know who sent me
To raise my voice and say:
May the lights in the land of plenty
Shine on the truth some day.
I dont know why I come here,
Knowing as I do,
What you really think of me,
What I really think of you.
For the millions in a prison,
That wealth has set apart c
For the christ who has not risen,
From the caverns of the heart c
For the innermost decision,
That we cannot but obey -
For whats left of our religion,
I lift my voice and pray:
May the lights in the land of plenty
Shine on the truth some day.
I know I said Id meet you,
Id meet you at the store,
But I cant buy it, baby.
I cant buy it anymore.
And I dont really know who sent me,
To raise my voice and say:
May the lights in the land of plenty
Shine on the truth some day.
I dont know why I come here,
Knowing as I do,
What you really think of me,
What I really think of you.
For the innermost decision
That we cannot but obey
For whats left of our religion
I lift my voice and pray:
May the lights in the land of plenty
Shine on the truth some day.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hell in Texas
The devil, we're told, in hell was chained,
and a thousand years he there remained,
and he never complained, nor did he groan,
but determined to start a hell of his own
where he could torment the souls of men
without being chained to a prison pen.
So he asked the lord if he had on hand
anything left when he made the land.
The lord said, 'yes, i had plenty on hand,
but i left it down on the Rio Grande.
The fact is, old boy, the stuff is so poor,
i don't think you can use it in hell anymore.'
But the devil went down to look at the truck,
and said if it came as a gift, he was stuck;
for after examining it careful and well
he concluded the place was too dry for hell.
So in order to get it off his hands
god promised the devil to water the lands.
For he had some water, or rather some dregs,
a regular cathartic that smelt like bad eggs.
Hence the deal was closed and the deed was given,
and the lord went back to his place in heaven,
and the devil said, 'i have all that is needed
to make a good hell.' And thus he succeeded.
He began to put thorns on all the trees,
and he mixed the sand with millions of fleas,
he scattered tarantulas along all the roads,
put thorns on the cacti and horns on the toads;
he lengthened the horns of the texas steers
and put an addition on jack rabbit's ears.
He put little devils in the bronco steed
and poisoned the feet of the centipede.
The rattlesnake bites you, the scorpion stings,
the mosquito delights you by buzzing his wings.
The sand burrs prevail, so do the ants,
and those that sit down need half soles on their pants.
The devil then said that throughout the land
he'd manage to keep up the devil's own brand,
and all would be mavericks unless they bore
the marks and scratches and bites by the score.
The heat in the summer is a hundred and ten,
too hot for the devil and too hot for men.
The wild boar roams through the black chaparral,
it's a hell of a place he has for hell;
the red pepper grows by the bank of the brook,
the Mexicans use it in all that they cook.
Just dine with a greaser and then you will shout,
'I’ve a hell on the inside as well as without.'
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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