It is not poverty so much as pretense that harasses a ruined man - the struggle between a proud mind and an empty purse - the keeping up of a hollow show that must soon come to an end.
quote by Washington Irving
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shadow Inside My Shadow
poverty is not my cousin,
is not my lover,
is not my preacher,
poverty is not my brother.
poverty is not my prayer,
or the song that i sing
is not my answer
poverty is not my dream.
poverty is not my teacher,
not the hand that i hold.
poverty is not my anger,
not my spirit, not my soul.
ah! but this poverty is real
it races thru my mind
crashes into my heart,
& leaves me deaf and blind.
poverty is my companion.
the aching cold inside my hollow.
the blow behind my eyes,
poverty is the shadow
inside my shadow.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A proud mind and an empty purse gree ill thegither.
Writing for a plan
I write these words
To have my soul pour
The poverty of negativity harasses me
Daily lessons learned
As mistakes christening my thoughts
There is soo much fight left in me
But I feel like im empty with nothing left in me
I look to the world for sympathy
But im ignored in this life
And it feels like Im without light
How can I make my wrongs right?
How can I make it through another night
With night crippling my resting senses
In the day time Im senseless without rest
Nothing makes sense
So i dont expect you to understand
To show you whats coiling
In my head is my only plan
poem by Jaycee Wilkerson
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Heat Lightning...
heat lightning...
we speak hollow words,
build hollow houses,
live hollow lives.
poverty whispers,
we turn away.
poverty shouts,
we walk away!
orphans, or bastards,
we defile our beds.
our mothers lay dying,
our fathers forgotten.
the wheel turns,
we drink, and move on.
our sisters buried,
our brothers on the street.
churches and graveyards,
flags drenched in blood.
stray dogs, lost pilgrims,
heat lightning....
and an empty cup!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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An empty purse can't stand alone and a full purse can't bend.
Show Me Where This Greatness Is
I don't want to hear where it is,
Nor be shown just examples of it.
To sample as if offered on a buffet.
If there is a greatness to be had to experience...
Lead me where I can walk in the midst of it.
I am not into hype or false and hollow announcements.
Show me where this greatness is.
I want to be convinced,
That it is more than a wish or validated by pretense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Poverty
The horrific specter called Poverty,
Ruining most illustrious of men;
Denying them much of their liberty;
Suppressing talents and scholastic ken.
The snow-balling avalanche that kills man,
Great scholars, scientists, poets, genius;
Putting them to death in her lion’s den,
Humiliation caused by an empty purse!
Oh, how the nightmare can affect these minds!
Sucking the sap of life in a few years;
Perpetually haunting them, it binds
To destroy sometimes, the souls of some seers.
Poverty generates great Poetry!
How can man live by writing poems free?
poem by John Celes
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Feeling Hollow Is Not A Crime
feeling hollow is not a crime,
why worry? i like to feel hollow at times
i feel so light and guiltless, and i sit on a bench
and look at passersby, guessing what is also
inside their minds: that one is hollow too,
she is floating in air like a butterfly
and that one is hollower than thou
she has a halo.
now i feel hollow too, but i get so used to it
that it has gained weight like a feather from
the status of air, and i have become so sensitive
to what other hollow people like me feel,
to the nth time of their empty lives,
but, know what, only for a little time,
hollow minds become filled,
like hollow souls too filled with so
much divine grace.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We Who Are Patient, We Who Are Silent....
keeping what is due us
has always been our noble art,
sometimes we are counted as the
foolish few, not having anything to brag
except our not much spread
diary on integrity,
we have not multiplied much and
most of you hint that perhaps our lineage
is cursed, but we do not mind much talk really,
our revered silence is another noble
outdated technology,
we also give what is due to all of you,
keeping in mind, that the Goddess of Good Karma
is not asleep, but just sitting in patience,
slow paced, and cautious not to harm
the unwanted harmful grass.
we are patient too, and spiders inhabit
in the webs of our overworked eyes,
we are mocked, and we lower down our gaze
to the feet of the earth
we always get rain with the rain
scorched, nevertheless by the sun
but we are still thriving, despite.
one day, we shall hear about the death of laughter
and what we can always show and still be proud of
is our restrained smile.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Beautiful World After All
The sky isn’t blue as it use to be
At least that’s how it seems to me
Racism still occurs even after centuries
But through it all the world’s beautiful
From the Lady standing proud and tall
To the Twin Tower’s Memorial
Through it all, the world’s floral
Of joy in family and friends
The art of choosing what you want to do
Yes poverty is a negativity but however
The world is beautiful after all
Hand in hand countries deal with issues
War after war, struggle after struggle
Time heals everything and still
The world is beautiful after all
Through the pain triumph comes
Through the drama we r still
Beautiful after all
poem by Kweena Wilson
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Poverty Doesn’t Laugh
Fill the rivers,
With poverty’s tears,
Only then will they be filled with innocent water.
The brick that fills poverty’s throat
Should be filled with heaven’s food
Not hell’s slaughter.
Poverty’s hands should not be,
As empty as our hearts.
Their feet should not feel the piercing sand
While we rot in cars.
Poverty’s teeth are famished
Because they bite empty air,
Our teeth are stuffed with arrogance
Until our blessings with be stripped bare
In the night of hell
When guilt will crawl upon us
The worms and snakes of our sins
Will pierce venom through our selfishness
And there we will stand
Bare of all our blessings
The naked truth for the world to see
Will be paraded across poverty’s eyes
But they will not laugh.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
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Sonnet: The Magic of Poverty
A birth in poverty is luck supreme!
A death in poverty, a great blessing;
A life of poverty is rare a dream;
Achievements great, stark poverty can bring.
’Tis poverty that goads nations do feats;
’Tis poverty that stimulates scientists;
In everything, poverty, wealth just beats;
The greatest men were in poverty’s lists.
And poverty lessens our worries much;
Account to God will be much easier;
Poverty gives the saint a divine touch;
In poverty, poets can fly higher!
Poverty helps to shun worldly pleasures;
A soul in poverty, Heaven allures.
9-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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Hollow Man
Emptiness consuming me
Head in hands, I can hardly speak
looking for solitude, Lost in humanity
True knowledge leads to suffering
A constant quest an endless dream
Searching for inner peace, hidden so deep in me
Don't wanna be a hollow man
Ain't gonna be the hollow man
Don't wanna be a hollow man
Ain't gonna be the hollow man
Sadness comes knocking constantly
Filling up my eyes, for all to see
Peace will come some day, I pray that it finds a way
Darkness caressing my mind and soul
My spirits rejecting, I'm feeling whole
Emptiness goes away, fills with the light of day
Don't wanna be a hollow man
Ain't gonna be the hollow man
Don't wanna be a hollow man
Ain't gonna be the hollow man
I rise up like the pheonix from the ashes of an older way
With wisdom gained, I turn away, I turned away
Hollow man, find yourself some other Plan
Don't wanna be a hollow man Ain't gonna be the hollow man
Don't wanna be a hollow man
Ain't gonna be the hollow man
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Feel That The World Is Against You
You feel that the World is against you and nothing for you is going right
And you struggle just for to make ends meet and life is a hard uphill fight
But than you there are far worse off people though you do not see things that way
In Rwanda a Country in Africa teenagers to support their families work today.
Their parents by war taken from them and the eldest members of the family
Must work for to support their younger siblings they only know of poverty
In our society you may seem a poor man but poverty one can compare
And in the eyes of a Rwandan you would be a multi billionaire.
On five hundred dollars a week take home pay you support your two young children and your wife
As well as buy food, pay bills and the mortgage you do know about the hard life
In this Land they call you a battler you struggle just for to get by
Though the millions of battlers of Rwanda would say that the good life you enjoy.
You feel the whole World is against you a poor fellow on a poor street
But your fridge of food never empty and you and your family
have plenty to eat
And the hungry poor of Rwanda with you only would disagree
They would see you as a wealthy person for they know of extreme poverty
poem by Francis Duggan
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The War Hero
He sat at the bar, drinking his Jack
Talking about the war, since he came back
It ruined his mind, and broke his spirit too
He had seen alot of death among his crew
He drank till he didn't have to think at all
He drank till he couldn't hear the bugal call
When not drinking, he was taking so many pills
Disabled now, his wife paying all the bills
His very soul was tortured all the time
From crawling in the jungle in the dirt and slime
Hearing the shots fired every where
He was shooting too, just a boy there
He lived the war over every night in his dreams
In his sleep he could still his buddies screams
The war took a young boy and ruined his life
But he was proud, he had served in all the strife
This good man died just a year ago
He fought for our freedom and we do owe
Our freedom takes the life of young men
They serve their country and most come home again
All their lives will never be the same
Some will return whole and some lame
I'm proud to be a citizen of the USA
Where we're strong and proud and will never sway!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Turn It Up
Turn it up, turn it so loud
It dont ever stop
No no no no
Turn it up, makes me so proud
I believe in this feeling
Well youve lost all the things
That sharing could bring
Thought you were doing right
But violence and flames
And torches and chains
Are fuelling
These new northern lights
Like prisoners working
On infertile land
Took eight years
To find out the score
If youre sick then youre lonely
Out of work then youre hungry
The sentence is four years more
Turn it up, turn it so loud
It dont ever stop
No no no no
Turn it up, makes me so proud
I believe in this feeling
Turn it up, turn it up
Right up, right up
Who says poverty and race
Can be kept in their place
By keeping it
All underground
And ruling the country
Are unfaithful husbands
Who spank little boys
Gagged and bound
Theres got to be a better way
For you and for me
To turn this hypocrisy round
The growth of a nation
Cannot be achieved
By keeping
The downtrodden down
Turn it up, turn it so loud
It dont ever stop
No no no no
Turn it up, makes me so proud
I believe in this feeling
Turn it up, turn it up
Right up, right up
song performed by by Simply Red
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What For? ...
The vast emptiness, which engulfs me,
Is so persistently painful,
If I gorge,
Until overindulgence,
Greed and hatred for myself.
I still - feel empty,
Hollow,
Hollow to the core,
Shallow, hatred and empty - even more.
For food, I know - won't fill my void,
Just detract from my emotional emptiness.
Inside, I'm as barren as the Kalahari,
With an ache as persistent as time,
And a pain as sordid as childbirth,
And a mind as twisted as mine.
In my world, I'm no longer playing,
Just an observer, wishing for more,
In my head, I'm no longer needed,
And my existence - I wonder,
What for?
poem by Karen Sinclair
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Meditation Poem - The Empty Mind
the empty mind is when
you are blessed, totally
absorbed in your work
the empty mind is
when the fragrance of a night bloom
bowled you over giving your mind
an empty space to breathe in
the empty mind is when
you are lost
in the kiss of your loved one
the world becomes one
with the universe and you
the empty mind is when
you meditate on the name
of the divine intelligence
resulting in a centre of bliss
that time has never touched
the empty mind is when
you are in metta meditation
pouring out your love
to all beings those you see
and those you dont
a bliss takes you over
in a sanctum where times
has never had a place
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Insecurities Of Aging...
the more you age
the more you keep things to yourself
old and new socks are mixed up in one wooden cabinet
somehow you are not using any
it is just the keeping for keeping sake
you are not thinking of any heir of any shoe
you begin to emphasize the importance of empty containers
how each must be filled
an empty cup must have coffee to its brim
an empty room must have someone to talk to
and empty road shall have at least one car making a dusty path
the empty stairs are too fearful to look at
how you hate an empty chair
it can make you sick if no one sits in there in another hour
the hours can be empty too
how can you stop the arms of the clock from taking away the sound
of ticking?
you are sensing a terminal
the train must be full so that you can never experience the
palpitations of being alone
you can hear it like the sounds of korean drums
the cascading waterfalls
the horns of taxis in city traffic
do not dare to stop the inevitable
i assure you... you can't. So? get yourself attuned
have an empty cup and learn to drink from it
you must feign the satisfaction of thirst, because
it can't be long.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The King Of The Zoo
He was the king of the zoo, (king of the zoo)
Yes, he was, oh, he was,
Ooooh. (ooooh)
Facing his crowd, his head high and proud,
While they threw breadcrumbs, laughing through their gums.
(doo-doo-doo-doo-doo)
He was the king of the zoo, (king of the zoo)
Yes, he was, oh, he was,
Ooooh. (ooooh)
When the gates was closed at night
And no one was in sight,
He would pace around what was called his ground.
Dreaming of the land in his minds eye,
Roaring, roaring to the dark sky.
He was a show (show) stopper,
A mind (mind) topper,
He was a dreamer, (he was a dreamer) he was a king.
Yes, he was, (yes, he was) oh, he was, (oh, he was)
Ooooh, that he was.
Show stopper, mind topper,
Show stopper, mind topper,
Show stopper, mind topper,
Show stopper, mind topper,
Show stopper, mind topper.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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