Your Riches—taught me—Poverty
299
Your Riches—taught me—Poverty.
Myself—a Millionaire
In little Wealths, as Girls could boast
Till broad as Buenos Ayre—
You drifted your Dominions—
A Different Peru—
And I esteemed All Poverty
For Life's Estate with you—
Of Mines, I little know—myself—
But just the names, of Gems—
The Colors of the Commonest—
And scarce of Diadems—
So much, that did I meet the Queen—
Her Glory I should know—
But this, must be a different Wealth—
To miss it—beggars so—
I'm sure 'tis India—all Day—
To those who look on You—
Without a stint—without a blame,
Might I—but be the Jew—
I'm sure it is Golconda—
Beyond my power to deem—
To have a smile for Mine—each Day,
How better, than a Gem!
At least, it solaces to know
That there exists—a Gold—
Altho' I prove it, just in time
Its distance—to behold—
Its far—far Treasure to surmise—
And estimate the Pearl—
That slipped my simple fingers through—
While just a Girl at School.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Related quotes
Golden Bird, Painted Black
From beginning I heard
India was a golden bird,
Mughals, Britishers arrived
Looted wealth and destroyed
As she had wealth natural
Precious stones and pearl
Real gold, range of mineral
And knowledge of spiritual.
Hard work of noble citizens
Has mounted wealth again
But many citizens still feel pity
They are to live below poverty.
The amount involved in scams
Amount brought to Swiss bank,
Can run India totally tax free,
Not less the decades of three.
As said hundred trillion rupees
Is deposited in banks of Swiss,
Mere interest at Indian bank rate,
Can change poor people’s fate.
People below poverty can
Easily get per capita income.
India was a bird of gold,
India is still a bird of gold
But in black, it is painted
Her worthyness is dented.
If this black is removed,
Will again shine like gold.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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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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Impoverish Child
A small poverty-stricken girl wearing shabby clothes and unkempt hair. Treasures in heaven was all she bear. Poverty seem to be her destiny in life, but as she grew she struggle to survive. Nine was the age she began to toil. Sunrise to sunset was all. She was taught God's love and never be idle for survival. She remember God's word, through sorrow the heart will be better. Through diligence life began to matter.
Life had dealt her a bad hand, she remember it's God who giveth wealth to make one stand.
through prayer and toil riches in life came soon. Poverty was not her doom.
poem by Sylvia James
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Ho For California!
Rouse ye, Yankees, from your dreaming!
See that vessel, strong and bold,
On her banner proudly streaming,
California for gold!
See a crowd around her gather,
Eager all to push from land!
They will have all sorts o' weather
Ere they reach the golden strand.
Rouse to action,
Fag and faction;
Ho, for mines of wealth untold!
Rally! Rally!
All for Cali-
Fornia in search of gold!
Away, amid the rush and racket,
Ho for the California packet!
Wake ye! O'er the surging ocean,
Loud above each coral cave,
Comes a sound of wild commotion
From the lands beyond the wave.
Riches, riches, greater--rarer,
Than Golconda's far-famed mines;
Ho for California's shores!
Where the gold so brightly shines.
O'er the ocean
All's commotion;
Ho for mines of wealth untold!
Countless treasure
Waits on pleasure;
Ho for California's gold!
Let us go the rush and racket,
On the Californian packet.
Hear the echo wildly ringing
Through our country far and wide!
Thousands leaving home and springing
Into the resistless tide.
Now our nation's roused from sleeping,
All alert and wide awake.
O, there's no such thing as keeping
Folks asleep when gold's the stake!
Old Oregon
We'll look not on;
Ho, for mines of wealth untold!
We'll take our way,
Without delay,
In search of gold--of glittering gold!
Here we go, amid the racket,
On the Californian packet!
Yankees! all who have the fever,
Go the rush without delay!
Take a spade and don your beaver;
Tell your friends you must away!
You will get a sight o' money;
Reap perhaps a hundred-fold!
O, it would be precious funny
To sit in a hall of gold!
Let's be going,
Gales are blowing,
Ho, all hands for digging gold!
Romance throwing
Colors glowing
Round these mines of wealth untold!
Ho, we go amid the racket,
On the Californian packet!
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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A Lovely Old Lady
Her smile it betrays her for her rotting teeth
That lovely old lady that I often meet
Out walking in the park or on the main street
Too careless of her looks to know of conceit.
The story of her life may never be told
Alone and forgotten she is growing old
For empty bottles that she sell for a few pence she searches every rubbish bin
A tiny financial reward for her seems such a big win.
For those on the poverty line their needs are small
What sort of a World do we live in at all?
The gap between the haves and the have nots has grown ever wide
The face of hidden poverty we no longer can hide.
From amongst the wealthy who pride themselves in their generosity
One need not travel far for to see poverty
In a World where many lust for wealth and fame
For the multiplying poor we must all take the blame.
A lovely old lady her I often meet
She doesn't have money for to fix up her teeth
She never ignores me as I pass her by
With her toothless smile she always says hi.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poverty In The 21st Century
It’s the 21st century
The media displays it day and night,
Poverty.
Poverty across the globe lies
Poverty cries out from the belly of little boys
Little girls, parents too
Desperately searching for food,
Shelter, clothing, for love,
Companion, for attention
Those with plenty, refuse
To amend, a world haunted by
Poverty.
Is poverty affecting the rich?
Are their poverty the same
As the poor in financial constrains?
For they, too, poverty of love
I see poverty in the learned
I see poverty in those whose
Selfish acts are destroying society.
I see poverty in all level of humanity
The world is still an imperfect place
Yet life is still beautiful, the wind
Blows, we see it not, give thanks
For what you possess, now go,
Help if you can along the way,
Help to eradicate poverty
In your surrounding, widen
Your boundary across your
Country, to nations of the world.
Help to fight poverty, now!
poem by Winston Harding
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Mercury Girl
Shes staying around or else shes goin away
It could be forever or it might be a day
Or may be forever I call her a mercury girl
Shes building me up & then shes knocking me down
Like a factory chimney in a northern town
And I am demolished I call her a mercury girl
She never sees me till the sun goes down
Lives in a secret world
Says: her career is in another town
Life with a mercury girl
One day once when Ive got some time
I try to hold her but she wouldnt be mine
She slipped through my fingers & I missed the mercury girl
She came back to me with her mocking eyes
She told me she loved me but it could have been lies
And life can be up & down, life with a mercury girl
Life can be up & down, life with a mercury girl
One day once when Ive got some time
I try to hold her but she wouldnt be mine
She slipped through my fingers & I missed the mercury girl
And life can be up & down, life with a mercury girl
Life can be up & down, life with a mercury girl
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Theme From The City Of Beggars
Free the beggars from poverty today
Free the beggars from the slam today
Free the beggars from slave labour
Give the beggars some hope today
Put a smile on the beggars face
The beggars are starving today
So go ahead and feed the beggars some bread and water
Because that is better than nothing
Give the beggars the same right
That the rich got
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The problematic child
Necessity is the mother of invention,
People say. Then we can say like that:
Wealth is the mother of comforts,
And poverty, of meanness.
Wealth is the mother of indolence too.
So is poverty, of viciousness.
Wealth and poverty near by
Deliver discontent,
Which is a problematic child.
04.01.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Poverty-II
Satiated, desiring but not having enough food to offer some, is also poverty,
Sheltered, wishing, but failing to accommodate a guest, is also poverty,
Treated, prescribed, but unable to effort better treatment is also poverty,
Clothed, requiring but can't afford sufficient to meet the need is also poverty,
Educating, meritorious, but failing to provide better education is also poverty,
Social, invited but avoiding a ceremony to avoid buying a gift is also poverty,
Celebration, aspiring but fearing expenses not celebrating is also poverty,
Friend in distress, desiring but incompetent to help a friend is also poverty,
oppressed, rights denied, deciding but failing to buy justice is also poverty,
Time elapsed but not repaying debts for not having money is also poverty.
.
.
posted on 31-07-2008
Copyright ©®2008, Palas Kumar Ray. All rights reserved.
poem by Palas kumar Ray
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If Life In The Human World We Live In
If life in the Human World we live in is in any way fair
None would have to grow poorer for every new millionaire
And none would have to live friendless and homeless and enough food for all to eat
And no such a place known as Poverty Street
In a fair World peace between former enemies would last
And war and it's bad memories a thing of the past
And former terrorists any excuse could not find
To wilfully maim and murder their fellow kind
Without terrorism and war, hunger, homelessness and poverty
What a beautiful World to live in it would be
But due to human greed mistrust exists everywhere
And no such a thing as a fair go for billions in the big World out there
A World free of extreme poverty that leads to crime
But that at least will not be in my lifetime.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dont Blame Me
I think its only fair to say
We'd welcome riches down our way
No stigma knotted in my hair
I want to be a millionaire
Nevertheless I must insist
A thought is spared for those who missed
The handouts when it came to wealth
To education and good health
The time has come now all can see
As seeing this is killing me
Our future victim to command
Together we can lend a hand
(chorus)
So don't blame me for wanting more
The facts are too hard too ingnore
I'm scared to death of poverty
I only want whats best for me
But even so i'm holding on
I think the world can live as one
If only credence took the lead
The world would see a world to feed
An endless sea of blood that's spilt
Enough to sail an ark of guilt
And when we lend our helping hand
We'll have our green and pleasant land
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the Creator, there is no poverty.
quote by Rainer Maria Rilke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the Uses of Adversity
"Nam nihil est, quod non mortalibus afferat usum."
--PETRONIUS
Nothing there is that mortal man may utterly despise;
What in our wealth we treasured, in our poverty we prize.
The gold upon a sinking ship has often wrecked the boat,
While on a simple oar a shipwrecked man may keep afloat.
The burglar seeks the plutocrat, attracted by his dress--
The poor man finds his poverty the true preparedness.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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On Overhearing Two Arguing About Poverty
I over heard two fellows arguing about poverty
Whilst I sat in the cafe drinking coffee
And in truth I could not help but overhear them
As they sat at the next table to me.
The older of the two a silver gray haired fellow
Said to rid the World of want and poverty
We would need to depose every despotic leader
But the younger bloke with him did not agree.
He said in so called wealthy societies there's want and hunger
And where affluence is poverty too abound
From here you don't walk far to see poor people
For poverty is everywhere around.
The older bloke countered but this is a free Country
And those in poverty have themselves only to blame
And if hungry people in our midst are living
Do not expect me to feel any shame
The younger man again with him did differ
Saying want is caused by those who only care
For themselves alone and their own self interest
Many must grow poorer for to make one millionaire.
I left them there in the cafe to argue
And not for me to say who is wrong or right
For both of them looked well dressed and well fed fellows
And they won't go to bed hungry tonight.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Little Girl
(words & music: marie fredriksson)
Published by shock the music
Once upon a time there was a little girl
Once she was mine
In my heart the only one
I wonder where you are
I know youre somewhere in me
I can see your smile when I close, close my eyes
Oh little girl
Where did you go, little girl
I miss you so
Oh, I remember when she was mine
I remember when she was mine
Once upon a time there was a little voice
Singing loud and clear
In my heart the only one
Once upon a time there were so many dreams
Once they were mine
Oh little girl, theyre with, oh theyre with you now
Oh little girl
Where did you go, little girl
I miss you so
I remember when she was mine
Oh, I remember when she was mine
Oh girl, little girl
Where did you go, little girl
I miss you so
Oh, I remember when she was mine
Oh little girl
Where did you go, little girl
I miss you so
Oh, I remember when she was mine
My little girl
I remember when she was mine
Oh, I remember when she was mine
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spectators Of Poverty
Life spectators
from high living status
with their Owl binocular's eyes
dwell on wealth while munching pie,
Spectate life of I and poverty in a fight
Battling and wrestling for better life,
Life blushed lost sight
Soul kicked outside
The mind suffered
Pieces of I scattered all over
And all they do is intervening with freebies
Everyman for himself!
That's what they said
They fed their pockets with fat
And I was completely sad
They told me remedy is a school
And hereafter life is cool
Only if they know how I feel
This paining merciless sting of poverty
Sinking deep in my life of no property
Just a pauper living in a liberty
filled with constraints
I loath poverty
It's menacles handcuff dreams
It made homies to depend on the bins
Homies are everyday environmental cleaners, collecting boxes and tins
to scrapyard
Almost all adults and teens
On their shoulders with heavy beams
of poverty
And left spectators to relish life of kings
Damn spectators and poverty!
Damn!
poem by Mojalefa Owami Mogakane
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I play at Riches—to appease
801
I play at Riches—to appease
The Clamoring for Gold—
It kept me from a Thief, I think,
For often, overbold
With Want, and Opportunity—
I could have done a Sin
And been Myself that easy Thing
An independent Man—
But often as my lot displays
Too hungry to be borne
I deem Myself what I would be—
And novel Comforting
My Poverty and I derive—
We question if the Man—
Who own—Esteem the Opulence—
As We—Who never Can—
Should ever these exploring Hands
Chance Sovereign on a Mine—
Or in the long—uneven term
To win, become their turn—
How fitter they will be—for Want—
Enlightening so well—
I know not which, Desire, or Grant—
Be wholly beautiful—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Drink To Her
Drink to her who long
Hath waked the poet's sigh,
The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
Oh! woman's heart was made
For minstrel hands alone;
By other fingers play'd,
It yields not half the tone.
Then here's to her who long
Hath waked the poet's sigh,
The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
At Beauty's door of glass,
When Wealth and Wit once stood,
They ask'd her, "which might pass?"
She answer'd, "he who could."
With golden key Wealth thought
To pass -- but 'twould not do:
While Wit a diamond brought,
Which cut his bright way through.
So here's to her who long
Hath waked the poet's sigh,
The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
The love that seeks a home
Where wealth or grandeur shines,
Is like the gloomy gnome,
That dwells in dark mines.
But oh! the poet's love
Can boast a brighter sphere;
Its native home's above,
Though woman keeps it here.
Then drink to her who long
Hath waked the poet's sigh,
The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
poem by Thomas Moore
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