Lie would win over truth
He was
Shabbily dressed,
Gloom
On his unshaven face
Pain in the eyes
He entered my chamber
Politely asked for a
Ten-rupee note
To buy medicine for his
Ailing wife
Without thinking much
I gave the note to him
After few days
He came back again
With the same story
Another note
Was given to him
By his third visit
I came to know
He was an imposter
Concocting false stories
To collect money
I yelled at him
Asked him to go away
Refused to give
Any money
He smiled and said
Now you know the truth
However,
I need the money
You have to give it to me
Other wise
I shall go on the road
Shout on the top of
My voice
You call yourself rich
But you are the
Biggest miser
On the earth
Who does not have?
Even a Ten-rupee note
To help an ailing lady
I am a popper
Nobody knows me
However, you shall
Lose your prestige
In my heart, I cursed him
My prestige was on stake
Lie would win over truth
In sheer disgust I gave
A hundred rupee note to him
Requested him to please
Spare me
Do not bother me again
11-03-2012
345-78-03-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My Sparkling Eyes!
I can't see anything
without spectacles.
Luring eyes get vexed
not being responded by my eyes.
The child-carrying anaemic mother
or the shivering octogenarian
travelling in buses as standees,
eyeing me up to receive my seat,
are not looked at all by my eyes.
Specks of dust cover my glasses
when chain-snatchers or those
who scare public peace bustle around.
As my eyes fail to greet
Known people on the road
They think of me as being proud.
But a fifty rupee note on the walk way
before the busy market
made a clear image in my shifting eyes.
I looked around and picked it up.
I liked to hand it over to a shopkeeper
for to be return to that loser later.
But the business people are sharks
giving bogus bills in bits of papers,
evading tax and exchanging fake notes.
And so I waited there for ten minutes,
with my eyes feigning search for the philanthropist.
Alas! Fifty rupee has gone down to the value of fifty paise.
Nobody turned up to claim it.
I am not brought up in a way to give it to charity,
or to a beggar and to donate it to the temple.
Is it a thousand rupee note
to pass it on to the police?
So I pushed it into my pocket
looking around if anybody watching.
Very good eyes I have
which I won't donate even after my death.
------------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Arbitrary
I am in my Honda Civic car at Haji Ali:
Boy of thirteen knocks on window screen,
But I turn away from this beggar, sure,
Not knowing how to go about it always.
In the morning however at Worli
I had asked driver to slow down
While I took out a ten rupee note
And gave it to that young beggar.
There is no difference between the two,
Both are begging by tapping on car window;
One makes my hand to open a wallet
And the other make my eyes move away.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Voice I Remember
I remember the voice. Quiet,
soft as a caress on the back of my neck,
coating my heart and mind
the way dust settles
when the air goes still.
A landslide of light
swallowing everything in its path,
leaving all undisturbed, cool
and dressed to face the sun.
I remember the way his voice carried my name
like a prince to the throne.
The voice was strength and calm in the same note
-the last note he ever sang.
I remember the voice. I hear that note
and I know the way home.
poem by Ronald Shields
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ten Pound Note
I was five when mam left us
But before she passed away
She gave me a ten pound note
For a coat on a rainy day
But there was no coat which could last
The rainy days I had to bear
So I lent my money to my brother
Who looked after me with care
My brother spent the money
Everywhere we went
On things I didn’t care about
Like camping in a tent
On bandages and soap
And fishing in the river
And chips when we were hungry
To warm a bellies shiver
He seemed to spend lots of money
I wanted my money back
I decided ten years later
For I never bought that mac
Brother where’s my money now
I loaned you long ago
For years you’ve spent it carelessly
But I still love you though
He was sad as he looked at me
Then he began to say
I promised mam not to leave you
Until your rainy day
Its time to buy that coat now
I’m leaving you today
You’ve grown to be a fine young man
But I must sail away
Your note has never left me
Its folded in my pocket
It sits so very tightly
In our mams silver locket
Its your turn to keep it now
Your note has kept us near
Goodbye my little brother
Let me wipe away your tear.
Note To Self: Don't Die
I'm as blue
I'm as blue as the ocean is true, it's just refelctions of the sky
I'm as cold
I'm as cold as the stories you told but never sick enough to die
Note to self: don't change for anyone
Note to self: don't die
Note to self: don't change for anyone
Don't change, just lie
I'm as sick
I'm as crass as the things in your past, you wished that you could let them go
Caged birds
Caged animals starving for class
In your house when you're alone
Note to self: don't change for anyone
Note to self: don't die
Note to self: don't change for anyone
Don't change, just lie
Who do you call when you're alone
Nobody, baby
Who do you want to be, figure out and just let me know
Don't change, don't change, don't change
Just let me go
Just let me go
Just let me go
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not To Self: Don't Die
I'm as blue
I'm as blue as the ocean is true, it's just reflections of the sky
I'm as cold
I'm as cold as the stories you told but never sick enough to die
Note to self: don't change for anyone
Note to self: don't die
Note to self: don't change for anyone
Don't change, just lie
I'm as sick
I'm as crass as the things in your past, you wished that you could let them go
Caged birds
Caged animals starving for class
In your house when you're alone
Note to self: don't change for anyone
Note to self: don't die
Note to self: don't change for anyone
Don't change, just lie
Who do you call when you're alone
Nobody, baby
Who do you want to be, figure out and just let me know
Don't change, don't change, don't change
Just let me go
Just let me go
Just let me go
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Note You Never Wrote
Later on, the story goes,
A bottle floated out to sea.
After days, when it had found the perfect spot,
It opened up,
And I read the note that you never wrote to me
After all, Im sure you know,
The mayor of baltimore is here.
After days now he can finally appear,
Now at last hes here,
But he never is gonna get my vote,
cause he never is gonna get a quote
From the little note
That you never wrote to me.
Further on, along the line,
I was arrested on the shore,
Holding papers of governments galore.
I was taken in,
But I read the note that you never wrote.
Yes, I read the note that you never wrote.
Oh, I read the note that you never wrote to me.
To me.
To me.
To me.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A rare gypsy rarely seen!
A gypsy was left to the mercy of God,
along with her two children in rags.
To give her hell, her husband has left her there.
Dowry or giving birth to only girls,
adultery or ambition to have a shelter
was not the cause for their wrangle.
“ Stop ranting me in filthy words in the bazaar”
She pleaded but he evinced no change.
She complained to the police and he was
driven out of that coastal village.
In the late mid-night, when I went out of my office,
I saw something dark at the verandah
of a class-room nearby.
I walked slowly there with some fear
as small snakes would lie on the sand.
A lady was squatting beside the wall,
huddling together her sleeping children.
“ Don’t stay here. Get lost! ” I shouted.
“ In the morning I’ll go out. Till then, permit me”,
She begged and covered her children with her saree.
“ Get into the room and stay there for the night”,
I said to her to save her kids from the cold.
“ I can’t be a hostess to this village hooligans.
They will hunt me down in this doorless room”.
Her reply made me pity her more.
She told me she would earn some money
by doing some work for wages the next day
and go to a place where her clan are camping.
I promised her a hundred rupees at dawn
and she could go by bus to join her kin.
“ Sorry, I can’t return that money.
So I don’t want it from you”,
She said with all humility.
“ When you become rich, you give it back”,
I muttered with a smile.
“ I can’t be rich. Anyhow I get it in the morning”, she said.
When I went out with a hundred rupee note at sunrise,
she wasn’t there but her children were gathering fruits
under a tamarind tree and they told me
that their mother had gone to clear weeds in fields;
she would be back with money in the evening
and they would go to Tambaram Railway Station
where their grandmother has been living.
“ Oh, the gypsies are far better than others
Who long to have freebies from the government”
I thought myself and smiled.
-------------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ten Euro Note
Ten Euro Note
The old road into town is only used by walkers
now, weird people, who would look out of place
anywhere else and Marian Hyde, who writes
about alternative lifestyles, in the Guardian.
I had found a wallet with a twenty euro note,
photos of a posing nude woman, it belonged to
someone named Carol. I asked around, they all
knew her, a pro who often walked this way.
A handmade and of real leather and on and
impulse I added a ten euro note and wondered
if when I caught up with her she would notice,
or was my motive more self serving?
I met up with Carol at a road side pub gave her
the purse, she opened it counted the money,
said nothing, but she was talking to a footballer
who wanted to be tennis professional.
I walked where I was accosted by a Liverpool
comedian who couldn’t stop telling jokes,
I soon stopped laughing, smiling and listening,
but my disinterest didn’t matter anyway.
Carol came out, joined us, she had bought me
a beer and was in a good mood, the comedian
had fallen asleep, she knew the why of my ten
euro note and I knew of her nude pictures.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hans and Fritz
Hans and Fritz were two Deutschers who lived side by side,
Remote from the world, its deceit and its pride:
With their pretzels and beer the spare moments were spent,
And the fruits of their labor were peace and content.
Hans purchased a horse of a neighbor one day,
And, lacking a part of the Geld, — as they say, —
Made a call upon Fritz to solicit a loan
To help him to pay for his beautiful roan.
Fritz kindly consented the money to lend,
And gave the required amount to his friend;
Remarking,—his own simple language to quote,—
"Berhaps it vas bedder ve make us a note."
The note was drawn up in their primitive way, —
"I, Hans, gets from Fritz feefty tollars to-day;"
When the question arose, the note being made,
"Vich von holds dot baper until it vas baid?"
"You geeps dot," says Fritz, "und den you vill know
You owes me dot money." Says Hans, "Dot ish so:
Dot makes me remempers I haf dot to bay,
Und I prings you der note und der money some day."
A month had expired, when Hans, as agreed,
Paid back the amount, and from debt he was freed.
Says Fritz, " Now dot settles us." Hans replies,
"Yaw: Now who dakes dot baper accordings by law ?"
"I geeps dot now, aind't it?" says Fritz ; " den, you see,
I alvays remempers you baid dot to me."
Says Hans, "Dot ish so: it vas now shust so blain,
Dot I knows vot to do ven I porrows again."
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Johnny One Note
Johnny could only sing one note
And the note he sings was this
Ah!
Poor johnny one-note
Sang out with gusto
And just overlorded the place
Poor johnny one-note
Yelled willy nilly
Until he was bleu in the face
For holding one note was his ace
Couldnt hear the brass
Couldnt hear the drum
He was in a class
By himself, by gum!
Poor johnny one-note
Got in aida
Indeed a great chance to be brave
He took his one note
Howled like the north wind
Brought forth wind that made critics rave,
While verdi turned round in his grave!
Couldnt hear the flute
Or the big trombone
Evry one was mute
Johnny stood alone.
Cats and dogs stopped yapping
Lions in the zoo
All were jealous of johnnys big trill
Thunder claps stopped clapping,
Traffic ceased its roar,
And they tell us niagra stood still.
He stopped the train whistles,
Boat whistles,
Steam whistles,
Cop whistles,
All whistles bowed to his skill
Sing johnny one-note,
Sing out with gusto and
Just overwhelm all the crowd
Ah!
So sing johnny one-note, out loud!!
Sing johnny one-note
Sing johnny one-note out loud!
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Goodbye Note
I'm sorry it had to go this way
But I couldn't bear looking at you today
I just miss you so much
You no longer can I touch
I could
But there'd be too much pain
I would
But I'd lose you again someday
I can't be your friend
Because of the pain you put me through
And I can't be your friend
Because I can't bear to see you
I'd cry
And runaway
I'm too scared
To face you another day
Only out of the fear
Of running away
And shedding more than one tear
But there's more than tears to pay
It seems hopeless
Writing you this note
But again nonetheless
This note I wrote
It explains to you
Why I can't be your friend
I'm terrified of you
The note's drawing to the end
I'm so sorry
From the bottom of my broken heart I say
But again
I lost more than my heart anyway.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Passion For Money!
Dollar, Euro, Pound, Yen, Dinar or Rupee currencies,
Money passion drives one deep even into the abyss!
Money passion never stops even the sea shrinks to nil
And ends not even camel goes through the eye of needle!
No one can fight in the court to win justice without money;
No one can run politics and win in election without money;
No one can get educated to live quality life without money;
No one can live life as wished in the world without money!
What is God – love or truth or justice or power or money?
Many opt for money as with money only everything is done!
Without money there is nothing in this material world;
Without spiritual grace there is no place in the other world!
As in God everything is contained in money in this world
Why there is so much passion for money let the futures tell!
But just way is first one should earn name by one’s work skill
And by perfection achieve position, power, fame and money!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mailbox Opens By Itself?
How does a mailbox open all by itself?
No, it needed a human’s help.
You opened it, then looked in,
you saw the note,
you were caught again.
So you played Sherry
with your stupid little lie,
your made up false alibi.
“All the mailbox doors
open just like M.D’s.”
“I” tried your game
this morning
it didn’t budge or
even squeak.
I could sit there all day
long opening mailboxes
till I’m blue in the face,
NO movement from my
mailbox not even a trace.
See last week you were
in my mailbox
and you took the 1st note out,
you were scared
without a doubt.
See the mailman put
mail in after that,
so this week you went
on your little rant.
You called the cops
and stated your false case,
then put a note outside my place.
Making me take the note out
before the mailman got there
the very next day,
so that I would think
the mailman took the
first note last week away.
But SEE the mail did come today,
and guess what the note did STAY.
So how did you know the note was
still in my mailbox today
and why would you care?
Because you are GUILTY
and so you dared.
You looked again—what a fool—
Like you think I’m stupid?
No, I’m on to you.
Now take your old dog
and your lying ____
and move out
while you still have
the chance.
Written on March 15,2011 by Christina Sunrise
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lucky Break
The young Russian, who had ended up on the shores of Algarve,
was drunk, poor and miserable. He offered people to help unload
trolleys into cars, few wanted him to do so as he was a big man
and looked threatening. Cold shoulders of contempt, yes he did
noticed it ok and every arrow of rejection found its mark.
He approached me I gave him enough money to buy a litre of
wine. A litre of wine would bring some relief he would be able to
sleep for a few hours, but knew he would wake up at dawn, feel
wretched and ashamed full of hopelessness and thinking how to
escape this misery that only drink could assuage for a few hours.
Once I was drunk, skint and far from home, I went into a church
for warmth, found a big money note on the floor I put it in
the collection box and cursed. Hell it I could not take the note
back it would look like a theft. I don’t know what I feared the most
stealing or being caught stealing. The day after I got a job, no it
didn’t make me religious, but it made me appreciate the element
of luck in life.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Money is Honey
Money is Honey
Money money money
O my dear honey
Tinkering sound
Of Rupee, dollar and pound
The world ruled by capitalist
Made man more materialist
He toils day and night
To get the deceiving delight
Of the money and wealth
Risking spirit heavenly and health
Being clever and cunning
Man tries to find new meaning
In the material possession
Relish on wealth accumulation
Money is the medium not the means
To live life, why spilling beans
This is the irony
O my dear honey
Money, money and money
{This was written after a random thinking over the corrupting influence of money and how it has changed the meaning of life.}
Shashikant Nishant Sharma 'साहिल'
======©SNS==18 May 2012==@New Delhi=====
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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Nasty Bath Room
The bustand
Bath room
Was not for
Clean...
Urine sumeel
Cut the nose...
Some budy pass
Urine...
No for water
But
Colected money
For indian rupees
Onr for urine pass...
Rupees two for
Motion pass...
I was give
One rupee
I went the
Bustand bath room...
Not passed
The urine...
Urine was my self
Very urgent...
But i did not pass urine;
I was pay the one rupee
For indian money
Nasty bath room...
You also go and see
The bustand that bath room
Very care full...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Sandman who sleeps near-by a dustbin
Oh! The sad fading memory re-kindles.
That desperate fragile man was crying on a rainy day
And he was soaked in a cobbled narrow street.
I offered him a small colored note
But he refused.
And I gave him a big note that too he refused calmly.
Then only I realized that he was starving.
Unfortunately all the shops were closed and it seemed to be a public holiday in a memorial of a bygone puppet President.
[ *Sandman- The genie of folklore who makes children sleepy; in allusion to the rubbing of their eyes as if there were sand in them.]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Isn't Strange
isn't strange
how a 20 rupee note
seems like such a large amount
when u donate to a temple
but such a small amount
when u go 2 shopping?
isn't strange
how 2 hours seems so long when u are in temple
and how short they seem
when u are watching a good movie
poem by Ishita Bhatnagar
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You can alter movie singing so much because you go into the recording studio and, just technology for recording has gotten so good, you can hold out a note and they can combine a note from take 2 and a note from take 8.
quote by Anne Hathaway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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