Sonnet- What’s This World Coming To?
One foot’s enough to crush an ant most time;
But many feet unite to kill an ant!
What muscle-power’s wasted sheer in prime!
“How foolish men can be! ” the ant would chant.
Examples of this kind happen today;
Mob-violence is killing persons poor;
And militancy threatens, night and day;
Who will become the innocents’ succour?
And mighty nations crush the little ones;
The powerful all join to thrash the weak;
Attacked are men and women without guns!
The future of the poor nations looks bleak.
Unequals fight and challenge each other;
The rich is pitted against his poor brother!
poem by John Celes

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Go To Next Door
'Go to next door'
Shouted neighbor
The man was poor
With pitiful eyes standing on floor
It is disgusting to note
Equally not noble to float
And idea to feel some soft corner
To rush to poor as sympathizer
Many able body persons
Resort to begging for unknown reasons
May be an easy way to enjoy life
Without worry, tension or strife
New born babies are taken on hire
We look at them and but show no desire
To help in any way as they follow you
Take all patience out and displeasure passes through
Poor are of many kinds in high class too
At the end of month they turn poor to be true
Almost all sources dry up and they remain penniless
Question comes up as how to cope up and face no chase
Even powerful nations turn poor on faulty planning
Limitless spending and overstretched plans need scanning
Over night their currency falls below grade and sink
Much below expectation and nation is even starved to drink
Poverty of any kind is just unimaginable
It stands there at the door with all the troubles
Individuals and nations struggle to ward of crisis
Ways and means are pressed into service with more emphasis
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Might is right
It is always the fact that might is right
They will go on till the end to fight
They may do it with the speed of light
They have the wisdom and long sight
Small insects kill smaller one
Big also kill little one and go on
It is complete cycle of exploitation
Everybody looses in turn and in rotation
So if rich rule the scene then nothing wrong
Not all can be in race and come along
It is sheer coincidence that mighty rule
Otherwise not all the people are fool
Person with abundance can sustain losses
He may have no regret even if looses
This gives them little advantage
Rest all feel confined to cage
Once you are under domination you are bound to suffer
You may have no rights other than to differ
So poor remain poor and rich gets richer
Poor remain suppressed for times to come
Rich are dominating and always welcome
Corruption has engulfed poor and rich alike
Everybody is influenced and affected with hike
No one wants to remain as poor like
Rich too wants not to become poor and dislike
This is tendency that we feel pity for poor
We have seen them knocking the door
But it is the system that will remain forever
Even if God descends on earth it will be there
If you have same system with no discrimination
No one may work and develop alienation
They will feel free with passing of responsibility
Here comes then the end of clear and distinct ability
If you have system with loop holes anybody will escape
No one can restrict the temptation or put the cap
Only the poor fail to emerge for the want of resources
The powerful emerge and re-emerge with full force
The oppression part is little disturbing
No one can force or go on curbing
No one can be forced to undergo torture
Even God has made it very sure
The rich may have disliking for poor
Poor to may have tendency to show exit door
It has been clash of time for centuries and very old
No one can buy it or arguments can be sold
Lord may wish so for all His children
He may even grant the same blessing even
Yet that difference may remain and even if not
The needless wars might not have been fought
The human beings may create it to rule
They make use of all available tools
Rich may tackle poor and poor may tackle down trodden
As the system remains same with all the odds even
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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No Access To Fast Food, Branded Clothes And
The creation of nations,
that have passion,
for money and power,
is the absolute poverty.
Not having the access,
to shelter, food and clothing,
to have a healthy living.
Fifteen percent Americans,
fall under poverty line,
and they earn,
less than,
ONLY 22K American dollar,
per year.
In other parts of the world,
people live,
in appropriate poverty,
and they live on,
2 dollars a day,
six hundred dollars a year,
five people can eat,
have shelter and simple clothing,
still they are healthy.
slim and fit.
Europeans are clever,
to make the people to believe,
that they are poor,
earning only 800 Euro a month,
Which is above,
the average annual income,
of many developing nations,
where people have,
no access to any wealth and health.
All of us stay in the same earth,
but the value of properties,
and the rental acquired,
through the properties,
differ substantially.
Politicians of the poor nations,
have abysmal knowledge on economics.
To be a rich nation,
we should have values,
but these clowns are short sighted,
to look at the value,
of their own properties!
Do not say that they are poor,
because the term poor itself,
will be ashamed,
for using its credibility,
for wrong purpose.
Please do not call them poor,
when the nations are able to provide them,
the food, shelter and health care.
Find a suitable word,
and leave the poor alone,
who have no access,
to any of these comforts on their own,
and their nations,
are unable to provide them,
the access to the comfort.
Reason for writing this poem.
The feelings of the poor are the same through out the world, irrespective of the countries that they are staying, but the proper definition for poverty should be clarified before classifying the people as poor, which means the poor of one country may be considered as the rich in another country. Then what is the real meaning for poverty?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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Sonnet: The Rich and the Poor
The rich become richer and the poor poorer;
This is the way in which this world goes on!
Men may become suddenly rich, not born;
A rich man turns suddenly a beggar.
The few pennies are snatched off from the poor;
The brunt of taxes are but borne by them;
They can’t make both ends meet by any sum;
The rich hoodwink the taxman- their brother!
Will the world treat people alike ever?
All men are born unequally today;
Yet, if it happens, ’twill be a wonder;
No matter what you do, things happen this way.
The rich become richer not by real work;
The poor become poorer though they hardwork!
poem by John Celes

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The Humiliation Of My People
my rich brother politician
is humiliating my people
poor people,
never empowered to stand on their
own feet, they keep waiting
for masters
to make them whole again
crippled, and limping
my rich brother's hand keep
pretending to take
them from the
quicksands of poverty
but i know the mind of my
rich brother whose laughter sounds like
the devil
now that he needs all of them
he feeds them and clothes them
but soon these will simmer
and fade and the truth
about my rich brother comes out
but it will be late already
my rich brother has already taken the power
and enriches himself some more
leaving my poor people back in their shanties
again scavenging for food
and begging for clothing
the humiliation will never stop
from time to time all of them shall be hailed
like those in
the Schindler's list.
but soon there will be light and music
and progress
streams of yellow rays from the Sun God
possessed with
Integrity and Truth
and Justice and
Goodness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Between The Rich and The Poor
Who draws the gap between people?
They call them rich, they call them poor
The rich squander in wealth and abundance
The poor wonder what to eat next time.
Who allows injustice as iron fists
Smashing down the humble dignity
Of the weak, elevating the powerful
To decide what for the poor is best?
Who wakes up in the middle of the night
Feeling the grumbling hungry tummy
Over an open roof and empty plates?
Who orders trips to paradise during holidays
Hoarding bank shares and silver and gold?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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Poor nations are hungry, and rich nations are proud; and pride and hunger will ever be at variance.
quote by Jonathan Swift

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Le Testament: Ballade: A S'amye
F alse beauty that costs me so dear,
R ough indeed, a hypocrite sweetness,
A mor, like iron on the teeth and harder,
N amed only to achieve my sure distress,
C harm that's murderous, poor heart's death,
O covert pride that sends men to ruin,
I mplacable eyes, won't true redress
S uccour a poor man, without crushing?
M uch better elsewhere to search for
A id: it would have been more to my honour:
R etreat I must, and fly with dishonour,
T hough none else then would have cast a lure.
H elp me, help me, you greater and lesser!
E nd then? With not even one blow landing?
Or will Pity, in line with all I ask here,
Succour a poor man, without crushing?
That time will come that will surely wither
Your bright flower, it will wilt and yellow,
Then if I can grin, I'll call on laughter,
But, yet, that would be foolish though:
You'll be pale and ugly: and I'll be old,
Drink deep then, while the stream's still flowing:
And don't bring trouble on all men so,
Succour a poor man, without crushing.
Amorous Prince, the greatest lover,
I want no evil that's of your doing,
But, by God, all noble hearts must offer
To succour a poor man, without crushing.
poem by François Villon

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Robbers
Robbers are everywhere,
titled with honors.
They live like kings,
Action of them stings.
When they rob in millions,
as commissions,
actually they let others
to rob in billions.
Those who talk about justice,
corrupt free nations at their home,
bribe our politicians,
to rob from our poor nations.
What you preach can be practiced,
in double standard?
To let your own country to prosper,
why do you let us, the poor, to suffer?
The honorable robbers,
are our politicians,
who rob our peace,
our future and the sleep.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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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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Poor Poor Kids
Be quiet! Don't make a sound!
Speak when you're spoken to!
What awful fearful bounds
Speaking only on cue
Poor poor kids
You can't go out and play today!
It's punishment, unfitting the crime
This parental power display
For kids, like serving hard-time
Poor poor kids
Adults wield such power
They must be listened to
They can their poor kids cower
As they dim their kids world view
Power seeds have been sown
Hopefully they'll not sprout
So when kids are fully grown
Their kids will not self doubt
poem by Stanley Cooper

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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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Alternative to violence
You were told to contain the violence
Everything was burning in our presence
There was no alternative than to fire
We knew there will be outrage and people will not admire
It is case burning and looting of public property
There is complete lawlessness and uncertainty
The poor people at large has to under go suffering
There not much or less for the offerings
Why such scenes have become routine of the day?
Why there is so much in tolerance and no way?
Why such things happen in civilized nations?
Has it got direct bearing with some relations?
Are they state sponsored or instigated incidences?
Why people are confined or locked up in their residences?
Whose purpose is served for continuing the violence?
How one can pretend ignorance and innocence?
We are pressed into service to contain
Law and order should be in force and to remain
On whom to fire and where to lob tear gas?
What a difficult situation and delicate phase?
We may hold it valiantly
It will be executed too brilliantly
Such incidences don’t pass off quietly
There is spurt in violence recently
No one may appreciate innocent killings
It may also hut popular feelings
No on e can buy the forceful arguments
Though there may be destructive movements
How do the forces react when attacked?
How can they witness when completely ransacked?
It may be sometimes handiwork of the hooligans
The popular demand is raised with lot many slogans
The bullets may kill innocents
There may be restraints with consents
Still the axe may fall on brave personnel
There may be compulsion with some reasons
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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The Lay of Poor Louise
Ah, poor Louise! the livelong day
She roams from cot to castle gay;
And still her voice and viol say,
Ah, maids, beware the woodland way,
Think on Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! The sun was high,
It smirch'd her cheek, it dimm'd her eye,
The woodland walk was cool and nigh,
Where birds with chiming streamlets vie
To cheer Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! The savage bear
Made ne'er that lovely grove his lair;
The wolves molest not paths so fair-
But better far had such been there
For poor Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! In woody wold
She met a huntsman fair and bold;
His baldric was of silk and gold,
And many a witching tale he told
To poor Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! Small cause to pine
Hadst thou for treasures of the mine;
For peace of mind that gift divine,
And spotless innocence, were thine,
Ah, poor Louise!
Ah, poor Louise! Thy treasure's reft!
I know not if by force or theft,
Or part by violence, part by gift;
But misery is all that's left
To poor Louise.
Let poor Louise some succour have!
She will not long your bounty crave,
Or tire the gay with warning stave-
For Heaven has grace, and earth a grave,
Poor poor Louise.
poem by Sir Walter Scott

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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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Third World War
Where the young mens brave new visions threaten old mens selfish
Dreams
And they try to crush the spirit with their money and machines
And they call it communism because they dont know what it means
In the third world war
And the rich keep getting richer and as wrong as they are right
And the poor become the victims of the armies of the night
And the odds are never even and their skins are never white
In the third world war
Broken rules and dirty warriors spreading lies and secret funds
Cant defeat the campesino with their money and their guns
cause hes fighting for his future and his freedom and his sons
In the third world war
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Provide water and air which is clean and pure
Water
Is the most important
Need of life
The miracle liquid
Is scarce and polluted
Specially in the villages
The poor and needy
Are force to drink it in plenty
Science and technology
Is being used more and more
By all the countries
Underdeveloped nations
In their urge
To become developed
Use resources
In an unbalanced manner
Nobody bothers
About the poor villagers
Industries of rich and powerful
Pollute environment and soil
Toxifying the water underneath
With chemicals like chlorine
Rivers and lakes too face their ire
Poor people forced to drink
The same water
Causing diseases
In the poor and needy
What was provided by god?
Free of cost, is now bought
Enormous profits are earned
In the name of water,
Pure and healthy
I ask everybody
To wake and rise
Force the rulers
To use their might
Provide water and air
Which is clean and pure
Develop water purifiers
Cheap and handy
Distribute them to the needy
Save poor people from
Disease and dying
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela

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Why Tell Me About It I know All Too Well
Why tell me about It I know all too well
That many are living in their Earthly Hell
The hungry the homeless the poor and downtrod
They must be the children of some Lesser God.
Why tell me about it I know for the have nots life must seem unfair
So many grow poorer for every new millionaire
The scourge of poverty rife in every Race
In a fair Human World this would not be the case.
Even in so called wealthy Nations poverty does abound
Not too far from where the rich live the homeless to be found
The streets of the poor suburb a breeding ground for crime
Where many don't live to enjoy their life's prime.
Why tell me about it of course I'm aware
That the poor of the World have never been rare
And millions are living in dire poverty
In a fair Human World this would never be.
poem by Francis Duggan

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The poor rich
Who is poor rich? Who is rich poor?
A lone duck among swans is poor rich.
A lone swan among ducks is rich poor.
Each circle has either of one in it.
30.05.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Sonnet: Trust Not the Rich
The world is large but people’s minds are small!
They do not trust the God who loves man much;
They blunder often, repeatedly fall;
They want their hands to have the ‘golden touch’!
Beware of nations rich with much resource;
They lead the world in every field they choose;
They steer the poorer ones clearly off-course,
And hang their economy’s neck by noose!
The world today doesn’t care for poorer men;
The rich usurp all pow’r and ill-treat rest;
They neglect downtrodden and poor brethren;
The poor can’t rise although being the best.
Don’t trust the rich but stay independent;
The rich make slaves out of those dependent!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-28-2010
poem by John Celes

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