Relative Poverty
In Ethiopia they sometimes say
How shameful and unethical it is
That people eat well and drink
In the super-luxury Sheraton Hotel
While children in white rags and mothers beg
Outside on the Addis Ababa streets
As for me I sometimes think
How shameful and unethical it is
That people eat so well and drink
In Europe and the USA
While children in white rags and mothers sleep
Outside on the Addis Ababa street.
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A to Z
From A to Z,
From America to zambia,
From Accra to Zaire,
From Addis Ababa to Zanzibar,
And with your Apple to the Zoo;
But hope is it when, you never give up! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm lucky. The best possible place in the world for training is Addis Ababa, so I am home all the time except when I am racing. I like to be there, near my family, my kids, also the real estate business I run with my wife.
quote by Haile Gebrselassie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Professional Ethics
I wonder how a doctor dares to steal
The patient visiting a hospital,
Redirecting him to private clinics –
Most unethical thing for one to do!
I wonder how engineers try to steal
From project’s sum or get fat commissions
By procuring what is less durable –
Most unethical thing for one to do!
I wonder how a lawyer trys to fleece
By charging client exorbitant fees,
And tilt the balance of justice somehow –
Most unethical thing for one to do!
I wonder how politician tells lies
As fluent as his speech so magical,
And cheats the voters who gave him mandate –
Most unethical thing for one to do!
I wonder how teachers can fail to teach
The pupils, who are like their own children,
And punish them in inhuman a way –
Most unethical thing for one to do!
I wonder how bureaucrats make delays,
And alter statistics in ‘flawless’ ways,
Ignoring conscience and standing rules –
Most unethical thing for one to do!
Ethics is there for any profession;
No one can fail to ignore them in life;
‘Nobility of professions’ at stake’ –
Remember this and do your duty well.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 09-18-2008
poem by John Celes
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Rags & Old Iron
Norman curtis, oscar brown jr
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
I heard that old rag man now making his rounds
He came right to my alley lord with sorrowful sounds
Crying rags old iron and pulling his cart
Ask him how much hed give me for my broken heart
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay
For a heart that was broken baby when you went away
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
For those big empty promises you used to make
For those memories of you that are no longer sweet
I wish he could haul them off down the street
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
When love doesnt last tell me what is it worth
It was once mamas most precious possession on earth
When I asked that old rag man if hed like to buy
He just shook his head and continued to cry
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron rags old iron
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Mothers...
not all mothers nurture
some have also lost their kind ways
their children neglected
others given away
nature has a way of creating
deviant mothers
those who prefer their men
rather than their children
those that slap innocence
those that sell those buds of beauty
before they ever bloom
those that lead them to perdition
but just the same
all are forgotten and forgiven
mothers too commit mistakes
humans as they are
too like everyone
happy mothers' day just the same
from your faithful and forgiving children
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Are No Children Here
The untrained eye
Walks down the street
And sees children
But they're not children
There are no children here
Adults look back
With hungry eyes
And someone thinks
''They're just children
With a mother and a father
Never any fear''
And they kid themselves
As there are no mothers
No fathers
Because there are no children here
Terror doesn't care
As they cry over there
It lets someone stare
Through the sight of a gun
Seeing everyone
And just for fun
Shoot them
People rush around crying
''But they were just children!
They were just children! ''
A man with a gun
Turns and runs
But as he does they hear
''They aren't children''
And
''They weren't children''
And
''You need to know:
There are no children here''
No one makes a sound
Listening to the truth he's found
And they know:
It's our fault
We didn't save them
We could have saved them
If we cared
There would be children here
poem by Violet Llewellyn
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A Mother's Day Poem For You
Written by my Grand daughter
Cayce Taylor
Her first poem.
May 6,2008
Mothers do not like it
When their children are sad.
Mothers do not like it
When their children are bad.
Mothers do not like it
When their children are mad.
But, Mothers do like it
When their children are glad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been sad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been bad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been mad.w
Dear mom, I only want
To make you very glad.
Happy mothers day mom from Cayce
poem by Loyd C. Taylor
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There is no scandal like rags, nor any crime so shameful as poverty.
quote by George Farquhar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's no scandal like rags, nor any crime so shameful as poverty.
quote by George Farquhar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People
We travel single-o
Maybe were lucky but, I dont know
With them just let one kid fall down
And seven mothers faint
I guess were both happy
But maybe, we aint
People, people who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world
Were children needing other children
And yet letting our grown up pride
Hide all the need inside
Acting more like children than children
Lovers are very special people
Theyre the luckiest people in the world
With one person, one very special person
A feeling deep in your soul
Says you were half now youre whole
No more hunger and thirst
But first be a person who needs people
People who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Notes On Sendai
she was once at Sendai
posing by the port with some close friends
the picture shows a very calm blue sea
there were other tourists
faraway on can see seagulls flying
white yachts, green mountains
white shorelines, well kept stores
some children playing
as mothers keep watch closely
we all know what happened to Sendai
the tsunami ate all the houses and the children and the tourists
and temples and farms
there are no more yachts
the birds are few
and the people have left.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Are The Children
We are the children of the sun
and the stars.
We are the children of the hippies,
who were strung out on peace and love,
and heroin when they conceived us.
We are the children of alcoholics,
conceived in blackouts.
We are the children of the punk rockers,
screwed into this world on beer and anger.
We are the children of the poor,
raised on welfare and food stamps,
and government housing.
We are the children of the middle class,
borrowing from the government to get a college degree,
to get a job with a pension from corporate amerika,
who has already fired our fathers and mothers,
before they could retire.
We are the children of the rich,
who, like our fathers and mothers before us,
care only about obtaining more wealth.
We are the children of the doctors, dentists,
and lawyers, who care more about their Porsches
and Mercedes than they do their patients.
We are the children of the American dream,
roaming the streets with a blanket,
and a garbage bag full of aluminum cans.
We are the children, who now have the children,
and we hope they won't learn racism from us,
like we learned it from our moms and dads.
We are the children who can change the inevitable,
alter our destiny, change the future from futile to
fruitful.
Amen.
poem by Mikel K Poet
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In The Carolinas
The lilacs wither in the Carolinas.
Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins.
Already the new-born children interpret love
In the voices of mothers.
Timeless mothers,
How is it that your aspic nipples
For once vent honey?
The pine-tree sweetens my body
The white iris beautifies me.
poem by Wallace Stevens
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Some Mothers Son
Some mothers son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mothers son today
Head blown up by some soldiers gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mothers son aint coming home today
Some mothers son aint got no grave
Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead
Some mothers son lies in a field
Back home they put his picture in a frame
But all dead soldiers look the same
While all the parents stand and wait
To meet their children coming home from school
Some mothers son is lying dead
Somewhere someone is crying
Someone is trying to be so brave
But still the world keeps turning
Though all the children have gone away
Some mothers son lies in a field
But in his mothers eyes he looks the same
As on the day he went away
They put his picture on the wall
They put flowers in the picture frame
Some mothers memory remains
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers - especially single mothers - are heroic in their efforts to raise our nation's children, but men must also take responsibility for their children and recognize the impact they have on their families' well-being.
Salt Of The Earth
Let's drink to the hard working people
Let's drink to the lowly of birth
Raise your glass to the good and the evil
Let's drink to the salt of the earth
Say a prayer for the common foot soldier
Spare a thought for his back breaking work
Say a prayer for his wife and his children
Who burn the fires and who still till the earth
And when I search a faceless crowd
A swirling mass of gray and
Black and white
They don't look real to me
In fact
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Beggars Banquet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Innocents
To make perfect the heaven of mothers
The little children die,
For what care they for the praise of God
Who have sung a lullaby?
The arms that have ached with nursing
Would ache with their emptiness
Were there no little children
To fondle and caress.
And while the saints and angels
Sing loud in adoring throngs,
God hears the mothers and children
Singing their crooning songs.
poem by Peter McArthur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mothers Day
Mothers Day Greetings
For our forgotten mothers
Even though we are not living,
We remember you Mom!
We know it is hard
For you to have a good Mothers' Day
When your son is from this life apart,
We, your sons, thank each one of you on your day.
We know you feel sad and glum
When you are from your son apart.
Happy Mothers Day Mom
In this life you did your part.
poem by Lonely People Champion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rainbow Aisle (Song)
Way up on the rainbow aisle
Where the many colours sing and the children smile
I saw you cast a silver net
Onto the wet seabed with the winterfog overhead
There are silkworms black and white
On the concrete floors and the fields of night
Caught between the truckwheels and the hoe
And the sound of Weather Report on the underground radio
And I was crawling up to you, just like that
Between the crumbling cliff and the ledge where you sat
And where was the greater danger
In the moment when you turned around and called me a stranger?
In the concert halls I felt alone –
Jacques Brel and Charlie Chaplin gone on home
And that’s where you’re joking about now
Where you’re half-gone, anyhow
And I talk to the winter children
Getting no mothers or machines to feed them
And I’m dreaming in a language I can’t speak
While the streets of Europe fill up with autumn leaves –
And bookshops on the cheap.
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Need Their Fathers
The mothers are now saying,
Their children need their fathers.
But weren't they they ones,
Who kept the fathers away?
And had the law hunt them down...
After having the courts chase they,
With warnings to keep their distance...
From these same children,
The mothers are saying...
Need their fathers!
And the fathers...
Who have discovered a peace of mind,
Are no longer trying to find excuses...
Why their fatherless children,
Seem to be out of their minds.
No matter who tries,
To blame their lack of discipline...
With no respect to others to show or give,
And put this on their shoulders...
To claim this is a reaction to their absence.
People who make decisions with ignorance,
Are always guaranteed to put their activities...
In the path of someone else to fault and shame!
'How many children raised by their mothers,
Compared to those raised by their fathers...
Have issues of discipline?
Or sit in prisons?
As a direct result of those who have created,
This statistic...
As if it had developed on its own!
Like hunger, homelessness and racism.'
~Excuse me?
I think you are looking for the excelerated classrooms.
You've stepped into a remedial one,
By mistake.~
'I'm sorry.
I was getting eye contact.
And immediately I thought they were paying attention.
Where are the excelerated classrooms? '
~Up those stairs, take a right...
And they will be the ones,
Where the light is shining bright.
You will not miss them.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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