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The Blood Of The Poor

I rise early
And see in the east
In the morning
Find you surprisingly
A ball of crimson red
The blood of the poor and destitute
You must have drunk yesterday!
Was it easy, tasty and very cheap?
Or the blood of the rich is not red!

At twilight
In the far west
Again I see you deep red
Surely you have been fed
With the blood of the poor and the destitute
As a tricky delicate delicious food.

Still you are honorable!
Still you are worship able!
In the east
You rise
For the rich
If we put
Our demand
In front of you
Behind the cloud
You start to play hide and seek.

Willingly you have forgotten
Without keeping the promise
Going down to sleep
In the west
Like a thief
And become a perjure
Now it is cent percent sure
No one is in this world for the weak and the poor.

poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tears of the poor

Tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich.
Shedding of blood
Rich man's headache,
Poor men's justice.
Water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish,
Fire is the only solution
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is lover's desire
Poor men's unbearable pain.
Din is the only right choice
To put forth your demand.
Dew is the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and the king,
Morning is the 1st step
Of that poor men's sufferings.

poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tears Of The Poor Man

The tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich,
Yet the shedding of blood
Is the rich man's headache...
And what of the poor man's justice?
In truth, water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish!
Fire is the only solution!
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is each lover's desire,
Yet the poor man's unbearable pain.
Making a din is the only right choice
To put forth your final demand.
Dew is but the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and their kings,
While morning is but the first step
Of each poor man's sufferings...

poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tears of the poor man (alternative version)

The tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich,
Yet the shedding of blood
Is the rich man's headache...
And what of the poor man's justice?
In truth, water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish!
Fire is the only solution!
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is each lover's desire,
Yet the poor man's unbearable pain.
Making a din is the only right choice
To put forth your final demand.
Dew is but the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and their kings,
While morning is but the first step
Of each poor man's sufferings..

poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forget The Cost

Multi-million dollar
Exploration into space
While in the name of progress
This planet's laid to waste
Nation takes on nation
And is stepping up the pace
And someone's got his finger
On the button.
(chorus)
Forget the cost
We've got to choose
We're running in a race
That we can only lose.
Rich is rich and poor is poor
And never the twain shall meet
East is east and west is west
And only one shall eat
The microchip has come of age
And man is obsolete
And someone's got his finger
On the button.
(chorus)
Forget the.......(etc)

song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little By Little

Poor man's anger rising.
The ostrich hides his head.
Soon the red blood will be boiling.
And blue blood will be dead.
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down
Poor boy sleeps on straw,
The rich boy sleeps in bed.
That fat boy fills his belly,
My poor boys's a dead,
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down.
The rich man drives his car past,
The poor man on bare feet.
That rich man do get what he wants
The poor must know defeat,
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down.

song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My poetry

I don't want to conquer the world by the weapons
I want to win the hearts of the masses at any cost
God make the ink of my pen
More sacred than blood of the martyrs
And make my poetry
More powerful than Alexander the Great
From the men to the women
From the children to the old people
From the rich to the poor
From the east to the west
From the south to the north
God let my poetry live and rule with love and dignity

poem by Asif Andalib
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West End Girls

(....forever)
Sometimes youre better off dead
Theres gun in your hand and its pointing at your head
You think youre mad, too unstable
Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables
In a restaurant in a west end town
Call the police, theres a madman around
Running down underground to a dive bar
In a west end town
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
West end girls
Too many shadows, whispering voices
Faces on posters, too many choices
If, when, why, what?
How much have you got?
Have you got it, do you get it, if so, how often?
And which do you choose, a hard or soft option?
(how much do you need? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
West end girls
West end girls
(how much do you need? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
Oooh west end town, a dead end world
East end boys, west end girls
West end girls
Youve got a heart of glass or a heart of stone
Just you wait till I get you home
Weve got no future, weve got no past
Here today, built to last
In every city, in every nation
From lake geneva to the finland station
(how far have you been? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
A west end town, a dead end world
East end boys, west end girls
West end girls
West end girls
West end girls
(how far have you been? )
Girls
East end boys
And west end girls
And west end girls
And west end girls
East end boys
The west end girls
The west end boys
And west end girls
The west end girls
The west end boys
The west end girls

song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunrise, Sunset

O Sun, When you rise,
It’s morning dawn.
When you set,
It’s evening dusk.

O Sun, Seeing your beauty lighting
Shining on landscape from dawn
Shining on seascape from dusk
It comes from dawn to dusk.

O Sun, rise from East
O Sun, set to West
From East to West,
Celestial light comes and go,
Seasons come and go.

Here come four seasons
North to South, East to West
From Spring comes Autumn,
From Summer comes Winter.

O Sun, From rising East
To setting West
O Moon, Come rising East
To setting West

Cycle never end,
It’s endless cycle,
Seeing sunset every dusk,
Seeing sunrise every dawn.

Making us pondering..
Make us wondering
Where, When will be next..
Sunrise, sunset..

poem by Lawrence Hiung
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The Sun Burns East to West

The Sun Burns East to West
(Earth’s Creation to the end of an Ice Age)
© 2008 (Jim Sularz)

Sun’s first rise over life-less skies,
the Earth cools, and the waters pool -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the planet’s broken plates quake and move.

Lightning strikes, the waters stir,
and the bonds of life begin to churn -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the waters swirl in a living urn.

Strange aquatic things, they all evolve,
some spiny finned, start to crawl -
the Sun burns East to West.
And they slowly stretch erect and tall.

Eons past where the cunning reign, a savage place,
with small sized brains -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the dead surrender their twisted remains.

An asteroid streaks from the sky, blocks out the Sun,
cause most to die -
the Sun burns East to West.
And all in a blink of Time’s eye.

Footprints in stone, some on mountainsides,
make it clear that rocks don’t lie -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the Fossils always tell the Time.

Eons past and Eons more, the fittest evolves,
and Man is born -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the early brain, once fast asleep,
begins to dream and mourn.

The first million years, Man lives in fear, learns to hunt,
invents the spear -
the Sun burns East to West.
And migrates to claim the vast frontiers.

Tools from stone and controlled fire, creates language,
that shake Man’s empire -
the Sun burns East to West.
And splash Cave paintings with Human inspire.

Life-times of hunter-gathering,
and story-telling in the dark -
the Sun burns East to West.
And a World spins with a Million hearts.

The Earth starts to warm, the oceans rise,
and the waters shape the lands -
the Sun burns East to West.
And when an Ice Age ends, then comes, the Age of Man.

poem by Jim Sularz
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Rich and Poor

In me a sense has felt like each,
One causes others to wonder of strange beliefs,
In a feeding are the poor,
Poor are the opposite of the Rich.

In this side of the valley,
The Rich are better at living,
In opposition to the laughter
Of the Poor.

Poor is not Rich,
And Rich carries no Wealth
Of Heavenly Times.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Very Thing That Makes You Rich

My father told me, lying on his bed of death,
"boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self
'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand
And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor
The very thing that makes her rich will make you poor"
That's right!
Well, i put you behind the wheel of a deuce and a quarter, yes i did
Had you living like a rich man's daughter, yes i did, i sure did
While you were living high on the hog
You had me down here scuffling like a dog
Well, the very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
The very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Don't you never ever make such a bad mistake
You know i'd rather climb into bed with a rattlesnake
Then to work hard every day bringing that woman all my pay
The very thing that makes you rich makes me poor,
Makes me so damn poor
The thing that makes her rich makes me poor
The very thing that makes you rich make me poor
Very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Makes me so damned poor
Money won't change it, no no...

song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Is The Blood

You are one who is born to lead
A very fine person indeed
And great things we hear of you and read
Though red is the blood we all bleed.

Your name is sir and your wife's name is dame
And you are not strangers to fame
And despite the title in your name
Your blood it is red just the same

As those in the poor side of town
Poor strangers to wealth and renown
The blood that flow through their heart to their head
Than your blood is no less a red.

You are a World renowned athlete
And the best of all Nations you've beat
You stride out so graceful and tall
Though your blood it is red after all.

The royal one wears a diamond crown
As in a horse drawn carriage she is driven through the town
But to live food and water she need
And red is the blood that she bleed.

poem by Francis Duggan
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In East Africa

He was rich,
She was rich,
But there were many poor people around them!
And like what is now seen in East Africa.

Painfully and wistfully,
But to be certain with the muse of care! !
For drought, hunger, famine and starvation are now seen on my people in East Africa!
And the bullets of war in Somalia are also hindering the inflow of the food donated to them.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Rich, The Poor

Even in the rich man's house
Poor man's food is being eaten
You had better eat rich man's food
In the poor man's house
Than eat poor man's food
In the rich man's house
Our world is mixed
Truly inseperable.

poem by Kolawole Ajao
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Hollywood Holiday

I rode my motorcycle through a watermelon patch
Right on the california freeway
I took my holy Bible on my blessed boogie woogie drive
Cause I know I know I know
Where I go oh lord theyre gonna bless me jive
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do
I parked my motorcycle on hollywood and vine
And sang till my red blood turned boiling blue
I took my sole survival and bore my cross on a string
Cause I know I know I know
What I dear I bear my charm to king
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do

song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bailout My Soul

My soul, is now empty
I know not, what to think
of this demise from, the rich and greedy
Shame on you all, forgettin' the poor and needy

The human spirit will still, soar on through
Although the poor are forgotten
oh my, thats' me and you

It's not that your poor
with your money machines
printing what ceo's need
more of the green

For we are in a worldy mess
never were poor mentioned
as Dylan once spoke
this so called rich American society
is but a joke

poem by Matt Mondschein
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Dog rich

Dog

Eat...

Rich food

At rich people home...

Poor man and women

Also in the world

Not eat

The dog

Rich food...

But...

Rich home dogs

Eat very very rich food...

Ok...

Dogs is rich...

Or poor...?

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Property is not the sacred right. When a rich man becomes poor it is a misfortune, it is not a moral evil. When a poor man becomes destitute, it is a moral evil, teeming with consequences and injurious to society and morality.

quote by Lord Acton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich & Poor; or Saint & Sinner

The poor man's sins are glaring;
In the face of ghostly warning
He is caught in the fact
Of an overt act---
Buying greens on a Sunday morning.

The rich man's sins are hidden
In the pomp of wealth and station;
And escape the sight
Of the children of light,
Who are wise in their generation.

The rich man has a kitchen,
And cooks to dress his dinner;
The poor who would roast
To the baker's must post,
And thus becomes a sinner.

The rich man has a cellar,
And a ready butler by him;
The poor man must steer
For his pint of beer
Where the saint can't choose but to spy him.

The rich man's painted windows
Hide the concerts of the quality;
The poor can but share
A crack'd fiddle in the air,
Which offends all sound morality.

The rich man is invisible
In the crowd of his gay society;
But the poor man's delight
Is a sore in the sight,
And a stench in the nose of piety.

poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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I think the rich are too rich and the poor are too poor. I don't think the black people are going to rise at all; I think most of them are going to die.

quote by Nina Simone
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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