Sue me if you can
Sometimes I wonder
what kind of criminals
is doing business today
in the new South Africa
and steal time, labour
and life
from their employees
and claim money
for undelivered services?
The rubbish collectors strike,
as they are not paid
and there is nobody
to collect the rubbish
and still the municipality
charges its fees
while you have to dispose of it
or have to pay other people
to remove it.
Mine workers are in revolt
since from November
they got no salaries
and it’s already the end of march
and some more promises
are made by the mine
that maybe later
fire them all.
A salesman’s sales
goes through the books
and money is received for it
and the boss
transfers all her property
to her children
and says that he
will get no commission
as she is bankrupt:
“sue me if you can.”
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Power Conferred By Money
It is a fact that human beings cannot live without money
People go to work everyday because of money
The more money we have the greater the influence
The more influence we have the greater the control
The more control we have the greater the power
Therefore with lots of money, we acquire power
We classify some people as rich, affluent and prosperous
This is because they have lots and lots of money
By the way - what is this power conferred by money?
In other words - how powerful is money?
Several people agree that money is everything
Lack of money can lead to divorce
Labour unions will go on strike for money
Political campaign is doomed without money
Businesses close down when they have no money
Consultants sell their services for money
Without money we cannot acquire any property
In some countries, access to superior medical services
Is not possible if you do not have lots of money
Also in a number of societies, the caliber of education
You can have depends on how wealthy your parents are
To have money power is to have authority
Oh! Money, what are we going to do without you?
Many believe that money talks everywhere
Whoever has more money makes the loudest noise
The power conferred by money turn few people
To be labeled as the movers and shakers
Does this mean that the poor have less power?
Take a closer look at the society in general
The answer is everywhere and in all places
poem by Julius Babarinsa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Used Car Sales People
With the gift of the gab they would talk their way out of hell
These used car sales people they know how to sell
On their selling ability their jobs are at stake
The more cars they do sell the more commission they do make
On any deals they clinch they have never lost
And your trust on such people can come at a cost
The more cars they sell the more money they get paid
A hard job to succeed in the used car trade,
Shy and sensitive used car sales people one might say are rare
To sell one a car no effort they do spare
They have to sell cars or their boss them will fire
And other used car yard owners as car sales people them will not hire
The more cars they sell the greater is their pay
So to sell you a car they try every which way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Thats Where My Money Goes
Words and music: alfie zappacosta, paul dean, gerald obrian
Shes so fine, shes so eccentric
And what she buys, must be authentic
I paid up, to keep her down
I go crazy when shes not around, yeah, yeah
Shes got me in the palm of her hand
But please understand
No one ever made me feel
Quite like a man
She does, oh ya
You see that little girl of mine
Thats where my money goes
Thats where my money goes
And I work hard (he works hard) I work overtime
Its no good, cause I cant save a dime
When I have it, I got to spend it
On my baby
Cause Im so dependent... ya... on love...
My friends tell me Im out of my mind
But its not a crime
Iii do anything to keep that girl all mine
Oh ya, all mine
Shes satisfied and it shows
Thats where my money goes
Thats where my money goes
So take it all baby
(solo)... now listen
My friends tell me Im out of my mind
But its not a crime
Ill do anything to keep that girl all mine
Oh ya, I know
Shes satisfied and it shows
Shes satisfied and it shows
Thats where my money goes (thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes
(thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes (thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes (thats where his money goes)
Ill tell ya
Shes satisfied and it shows
Thats where my money goes
(thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes
(thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes (thats where his money goes)
Thats where my money goes
Thats where his money goes
Bye, bye, money, hello happiness
song performed by by Loverboy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Old Man
Their is this lonely old man.
He's not a people person.
What he says is not well taken, or understood.
With money, he offers a hand.
With a promise of friendship, he asks for help.
Without services being paid.
He just wants to be another one of guys.
But he's a boss who provide a service himself.
How can he expect being paid, and not returning the favor especially when a constant wanting of this help on a daily basis?
A friend is a give and take relationship.
And he just does not get this.
This is the reason you do not mix friendships or family with business.
Someone always ends up getting mad.
A friendship lost becomes one you never had.
~ To my boss as a reminder that as much as you want to be your friend I can never allow myself to be yours. This is a pawn that will not move. At least not to be used.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money
Money money money
Everybody wants some
No money church can't run
Money for this
Money for that
No life without it
Can't sleep
She says hell
In this house
If she don't get it!
Before you get paid
Taxman grab it
Buy something
He grab it again
When money pressure hit
You cannot afford to get sick
Doctors want some
And if you dead without it
You will not be buried
Not even in the sticks
Money money money
It's like blood
It's the way world runs
Need money for food
Need money for fun
If you have no money
Blood a go run
Man join the army
To get some of it
Would be alive
If he had it
Money money money
Where is the money?
Have to get money
Before the day is done
Donkey cough
When you are broke
No money
Donkey don't eat
Everything stops
Earth can't turn
Have to have money
Even some to burn
Money money money
Where did it go?
Pocket is empty
And I just got paid
Maybe my woman took it
Thought I had it made
Thought I had a hundred
But I don't have twenty
Now I am in trouble
I have to leave yard
But I can't leave
If I don't have any
What a thing this is
Money! money! money!
Eh!
12/4/09
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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While I Wasn't Looking
*About New York City Landords
While I wasn't looking
They took my home away
They said it was theirs
Because they had more money
And they could make more money
It wasn't mine just because I lived there all my life
Just because my dad paid for it when I was young
And my mom paid for it when I was young
Just because I had paid for it for an adult third of my life
How could it be mine
If they had more money
So they took my home away
Because they could
July 4,2007
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Can Not Live Without That Fix
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
Less is the significance.
And the importance,
Of one's quality of life.
Once the having of money,
And the affect of it...
Became the impression,
One wanted to make.
To flaunt and have it,
And from their pockets drip!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
And the satisfaction teased,
Would increase with a taste...
For more of it.
Until those not having it,
Were quickly despised.
And with character assassinations...
There became a rise of ruined lives,
With deciet, lies and alibis!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
Drifting in mental fits,
Are those today being weened away from it.
Crazed in protests...
With voices raised demanding,
And with their minds splitting into pieces!
A feeding of greed has done this.
At the expense of their consciousness!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
And just like addicts!
They can not live without that fix!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
They want yours and mine!
And anything that looks like it!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rubbish Sad Salary Somber N
rubbish sad salary somber n'
exquisite
influenced by everything.
rubbish sad salary somber n'
intricate a
Rubiks Cube, Waldo was found
in an outhouse by the summit of an epoch
the 1920s washed out into depressive oblivion. Simon included
this in his autobiography, written in the 3rd person.
rubbish sad salary somber n'
infinite.
rubbish sad salary
rubbish sad salary
a sombering quintet.
Money Machine
When I was just a child
My life was, oh, so simple
And the ways of the great world
Seemed strange and funny
Then when I was a young man
I learned of that machine
That turns out all those bails of precious money
Now you can measure you manhood by it
You can get your children to try it
You can bring your enemies to their knees
With the possible exception of the north vietnamese
It takes a strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
Strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
General motors and ibm
Afl-cio and all the kings men
When I began the game
See me singing bout fire and rain
Let me just say it again
Ive seen fives and Ive seen tens
It was a strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
Strong hit from the money machine
Settle up top, on top of the world
(money, money, money)
(give me that dough)
(mine, mine, mine)
Been living in the lap of luxury too long
Please, mr. dj, wont you play my song
Maybe my baby will listen on the radio
Come back home to me
Help me spend my dough
I need a strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the goddamn world
I need a strong hit from the money machine
Strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
Money, money, money
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hoarder Or Collector (Fun Poem 101)
Some of us are hoarders
and we don’t know where to stop.
We say we are collectors,
of rubbish maybe.
For a long time I have loved books
and collected every waif and stray.
People gave them to me by the dozen
and I never turned them away.
My collecting went so mad
I have now ten thousand or more
within my library.
Enough is enough I would say,
but still more arrived.
Now I don’t live in a house anymore,
as it has become a library.
There are books in every room
and not just one or two,
but dozens and dozens of them.
Everywhere you go;
there are books here and there.
Now I must down size
and my problem is
which ones do I let go,
and then I think
I might want to read a couple of them.
I am confused at what to do.
I know if I don’t do it soon
we won’t be able to
even get into the loo!
19 April 2009
Author’s note:
Loo is a word we use instead of saying Toilet. And, yes, I have that many books and I do have to get rid of some.
DVH
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love the money
Money
Is not money...
It is life....
Money is not
Money
It is happy...
Money is
Not money
It is faith...
Money is not
Money
It is friend...
Money is not
Money
It is life maker...
Money is not
Money...
It is your hard work...
Money is not
Money...
poors god...
money is not
Money
Rich people Cap...
Money is not
Money
World wide all...
Any or many thing money
With money...
So...
Love the money...
Each every day...
Earn too enjoy
with your's life...
witrh good...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Politics In Bangladesh II
Power tends to corrupt
And absolute power corrupts absolutely
This is so true in the political arena of Bangladesh
The ruling party has made the justice department
And anti-corruption commission a hoax
They forgive the criminals on political grounds
And withdraw all corruption charges against themselves
By hook or by crook
Politicization is taking place in every sphere of the country
Votes are being bought and sold like commodities
In competitive markets
The criminals are becoming leaders
Because of their black market money and liaisons
The mouth of the civil society are being gagged
By large amount of hush money
People who are trying to eliminate poverty from the country
Are being called bloodsuckers by the so-called patriots
Whereas the real bloodsuckers are in disguise
Of the heroes and heroines
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whats Mine Is Mine
Key:-
A - anita
R - ray
A: oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
Oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
Oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
My property, my property
A: oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
Oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
R: whats mine is mine hold theres the line
Stop following me from the back all of the time
Theres one of me, one of a kind
Sorry Im first, excuse me do you mind
You wanna be the same and put me out of frame
I got my own style, so you must be insane
Yes theres something else you can find
So dont touch mine, whats mine is mine
A: why do you want to be like me?
Why do you want whats mine?
You know this is my property, babe, youre losing this time
You are wasting time and energy cause you just cant take whats mine
You better save your time and energy gotta get it out of your mind
Whats mine is mine!
R: step back, step back
A: whats mine is mine
Whats mine is mine
Youre wasting your time
R: step back, step back
A: whats mine is mine
Oh, oh, all right
R: dont waste your time and energy
Cause nobody in the world can be like me
Youre looking for something I already found
A smoother move, a better sound
Represent yourself as me, myself, and i
Make your own plan, come on and try!
Ideas nowadays are hard to find
But dont touch mine whats mine is mine!
A: why do you want to be like me?
Why do you want whats mine?
You know this is my property, babe, youre losing this time
You are wasting time and energy cause you just cant take whats mine
You better save your time and energy gotta get it out of your mind
Whats mine is mine!
A: oh....
R: whats mine is mine
Whats mine is mine
A: oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right
My property, my property, oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right
R: whats mine is mine
A: oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right
A: save your time and energy
R: whats mine is mine
Whats mine is mine
A: my property, my property, oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right
A: you are wasting you time and energy
cause you cant just take whats mine
You better save your time and energy
Gotta get it out of your mind
Whats mine is mine
A: oh....
Whats mine is mine
Oh....
Whats mine is mine
A: you are wasting you time and energy
cause you cant just take whats mine
You better save your time and energy
Gotta get it out of your mind
Whats mine is mine
(reapeat and fade)
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Psalm of Labouring Life
Tell me not, in doctored numbers,
Life is but a name for work!
For the labour that encumbers
Me I wish that I could shirk.
Life is phony! Life is rotten!
And the wealthy have no soul;
Why should you be picking cotton,
Why should I be mining coal?
Not employment and not sorrow
Is my destined end or way;
But to act that each tomorrow
Finds me idler than today.
Work is long, and plutes are lunching;
Money is the thing I crave;
But my heart continues punching
Funeral time-clocks to the grave.
In the world's uneven battle,
In the swindle known as life,
Be not like the stockyard's cattle--
Stick your partner with the knife!
Trust no boss, however pleasant!
Capital is but a curse!
Strike,--strike in the living present!
Fill, oh fill the bulging purse.!
Lives of strikers all remind us
We can make our lives a crime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Bills for double overtime.
Charges that, perhaps another,
Working for a stingy ten
Bucks a day, some mining brother
Seeing, shall walk out again.
Let us, then, be up and striking,
Discontent with all of it;
Still undoing, still disliking,
Learn to labour--and to quit.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Only Money
I smirk when people say 'it's only money' and with very little money we get by
But money it can do a lot for people and not much of course that money cannot buy
And money it can be your greatest ally and open doors to opportunity
If you could make one wish and one wish only I'm sure you would not wish for poverty.
I'm sure you would not wish to be a pauper for that would hardly be a dream come true
But perhaps you might wish for a billion dollars and change
your mind whilst wishing and wish for two
For there is no such thing as too much money with money you can do good for the poor
You can help them for to make a new beginning by making them financially secure.
To all of you who say it's only money you ought to know that words to speak are cheap
The one who struggles to pay his house mortgage for lack of money finds it hard to sleep
He has to support his wife and young children and he has to work hard just to make ends meet
You don't find rolls of notes growing on the tree tops and you don't find rolls of notes along the street.
It's true that money doesn't guarantee you happiness you've heard the tale of the unhappy king
But to those who struggle just for to make ends meet the money is the most important thing
And if you have millions you are very powerful though physically you may seem quite small
And 'it's only money' what a load of rubbish about the most
Important thing of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money Money
You have money
You are hungry
You have money
You are not getting anything
You have money
You have no love
You have no fresh air
You have money
You are not getting anything
You have money
You are alone
You have money
You have no place to stay
You have money
You have mp humanity
You have no sensibility
You are nothing
You have money
And you are bankrupt
And you are not happy.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bares Thru Us?
BARES THRU US?
by Alex Lewis
i'm taking out the TRASh (of society) :
the only way to set all the others free.
i will dispose of all of it:
those healthy in mind and body-fit.
in this, RUbbish, you won't find the needy,
only the selfish and the greedy.
i have no garbagE-collecting mechanism
to pick up all of the racism
i'll put them in the traSH bag next to the ignoramus.
i'm talking, of course, about the rich and famous.
at the request of the children,
i'll be rid of each republican.
finally, i can take the garBage out
before the scum see what's about.
now, everyone else will be at peace,
especially the lazy and the police.
i have only one word of warning for you all:
once again, the rUbbish bag will get full. ?
poem by Alex Lewis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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African Identity Is Lost
Thank you South Africa Thank you
Today I don’t know why should I cal myself an African
South Africa I am afraid
I don’t know why you have killed people of Zimbabwe
You have exposed this mother land
It is like what Hitler was doing to the Jews
Why, Why, Why? ? ?
Yesterday we were depending on Zimbabwe for liberation struggle.
We had no fighting machines, no residences and no identity
Robert Mugabe Sacrificed all of his power, just because he wanted to see South Africa out of its previous crisis
With the lapse of 15 years?
Why don’t you look at United State of America?
United State has truly become a Model Liberal Country
Its President is a black person
It is a mixture of different people – none of which we have ever had such South African Tragic Killings
Today I am telling te whole world that I am so embarrassed
Ladies and Gentlemen: South Africa is a Xenophobic Country
If you think to pay a visit for study there: please take another option
I had never think that a person can be boiled with fire for no reason but Xenophobia
I wish you a very bad lucky
Perhaps God can give you a Tsunami over your bad reputation
South Africa does not only needs to apologize to Zimbabweans
It needs to apologies to the whole world
It needs to apologies to the whole Africa country
It need to apologies to God himself
It need to apologies to itself for having lost consciousness
I want to warn South Africa with one thing
Fire is not the end of the world
It is not to terminate the Zimbabweans by burning them alive
God has always been there before the fire
I remember when the King ordered fire to kill three men in the bible
God came out to be a shield
Just like he protect people from the lions he can be an answer to what South Africans have done to Zimbabweans
It is like there is absolutely nothing happened to all over the country
Nobody is feeling the sense of pity about these people
They are being treated as the dead dogs
Eve the policies who were there to mediate seem to smile, during event.
The religious groups who are always regarded as holy have not even gathered to express words of regret not only to Zimbabweans but to God himself.
I don’t know which country I can run to
Because I can hear the anger of Gods –talking to me
I wish I can fly away because the pain that South Africa will feel is more that the fire
I am not talking about a joke, I am talking about god
Africa what you have done is to challenge the Lord himself
Since God is able to protect a person that people are playing with
What about those South African who have decided to kill people the image of God himself.
I don’t know: but I think it will be better to be at Zimbabwean Starvation that to be at tragic South Africa
Don’t you remember what happened when people steal the covenant of God at Middle East Countries?
I am yours and you are not mine
No we are not the same
I am not xenophobic
I believe the extended hand is more blessed with receiving hand
I reconcile the process of giving the poor Zimbabwean the food they deserve
No I am an African; It won’t be Africa to me to kill another African
I cannot stop thinking about this
I have several friends and collogues that are coming from Zimbabwe
I am shame of myself
I don’t know what kind of friendship I have with them if my Brothers are killing them
I don’t know whether I will see the in future because of these continuous killings
Thank you South Africa thank you
I did not realize that you have lost the covenant of God
I don’t know whether you are prepared for God’s reaction
poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money Man
money man
they do not believe that this life ever ends they think as long as they get paid life then begins they dress natty and carry lots of expensive things everything is money the threads the car the wallet and the cards its what they live for the last day of this month or the first day of the next one it all starts over again how many did they kill to get ahead how many people in the grave so they can drive so they will never run out of petrol for the car how much goes on behind the street the people that they fleece to get the money that they need to get ahead how many must be dead bye the hands of the well dressed man he is the tiptop of society well within his rights to live for money is the way of all the best dressed men but when this life is over he will pay the devil all his dues my friend and then and only then will his life reflect his time over his money on fire and gone nothing to eat nothing to drink but smoke he was the money man
poem by Charles Hice
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Our Indian Police
She is brave,
She is strong,
She is dutiful,
She is friendly,
But she has mortgaged all these qualities
To criminals and
tyrants for
money,
She is worse than prostitute,
Anybody can get her favour
By dint of money,
She traps the innocent and releases
The criminals for money,
She extorts money from people,
She can take even life for money,
Hundreds of fake encounters are
In her account,
She is a blot on law and order,
Sometimes she behaves like a broker,
Sometimes like a robber,
She is the mistress of politicians
And criminals,
She is the shield of thieves, smugglers,
And murderers,
She creates panic in the society
By means of her uniform and stick,
People have lost faith in her,
She has a few honest and dutiful officers,
But it doesn't make any difference,
For they are harrassed and
suppressed,
If she is not reformed soon,
A condition of anarchy may erupt here.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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