Quality Tells for M lady Ernestine
Though poorly dressed she’s clean and neat.
She has a smile for everyone
She doesn’t live on easy street
but looks as though she might have done.
At some time in her hidden past
.She still retains her dignity
and holds to values which will last
Faces the world confidently
She has known wealth and poverty
and sees them both for what they are.
Impermanent, temporary
Which she will not allow to mar.
Her inborn sense of her own worth
A lady still but down to earth.
14-Oct-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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Worth While
It is easy enough to be pleasant,
When life flows by like a song,
But the man worth while is one who will smile,
When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble,
And it always comes with the years,
And the smile that is worth the praises of earth
Is the smile that shines through tears.
It is easy enough to be prudent,
When nothing tempts you to stray,
When without or within no voice of sin
Is luring your soul away;
But it's only a negative virtue
Until it is tried by fire,
And the life that is worth the honor of earth
Is the one that resists desire.
By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,
Who had no strength for the strife,
The world's highway is cumbered to-day;
They make up the sum of life.
But the virtue that conquers passion,
And the sorrow that hides in a smile,
It is these that are worth the homage on earth
For we find them but once in a while.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Lily Palmer
She doesn't ask much of life poor Lily Palmer
Just a small cabin by the Gippsland sea
Where she might sleep and from the weather shelter
'Your dreams are small when you're in poverty'.
Her life's belongings in a shopping trolley
She push it up through Bourke Street Mall each day
A tattered figure amongst the wealthy shoppers
She show her years in wrinkles and in gray.
Some look at her with looks of human pity
Whilst some with looks of scorn ask who is she?
But she has learnt to cope with disapproval
Nor does she welcome looks of sympathy.
The Salvation Army give her food and clothing
Without their help by now she may be dead
And she sleep on hard bench at Spencer Street Station
I do not envy Lily her cold bed.
She's sixty six too old for the rough lifestyle
And far too old for sleeping in the damp and cold
Life's never easy for the poor and needy
And so much harder for the poor and old.
It has been said she has a son and daughter
And that she has not laid eyes on them for years
She raised them on her own when times were better
But for her past she doesn't shed any tears.
Faces of wealth and affluence all around me
And amongst them the face of poverty I see
Through Bourke street Mall poor Lily slowly shuffles
Indifferent to both scorn and sympathy.
Still she has her dream and her dream seem quite modest
A small cabin in Gippsland somewhere by the sea
Where she might sleep and shelter from the weather
Your dreams are small when you're in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Meeting Equals
Meeting Equals
White haired, the queen skin as bee wax, she
had a honeyed smile when shaking hands with
the president and his wife; how far they have
come she had said to her husband only this
morning. The presidents, the most powerful
family in the world, wonder if the children are
aware of that, and first lady, from a street wise
lawyer, to a wife whose job was to look pretty.
There was a great glow in the air, new time
meets old time and the past was hidden behind
a smile; however there was a question rumbling
in the first lady’s mind, but she pushed it back
for now: “why, it asked, are all the white folks so
exceedingly nice to us?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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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Dignity
Dignity is what we want,
As human beings on this earth;
Dignity is what we can’t,
Give up anyway since birth.
Dignity is innate right,
God has bestowed man, He made;
Dignity is cause to fight
When employees get under-paid.
Dignity, all need always
At home, at school and one’s work-place;
Dignity for human race,
Men must guarantee all days.
Dignity in livelihood,
Receive should all citizens;
Dignity in dying too,
World must assure everyone.
Dignity is what we need
In life on earth and when we die;
Dignity is good indeed
For creatures born under the sky.
Dignity for man and beast
Is a must for all, west / east;
Dignity for anyone
Shouldn’t be denied, any time!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-26-2006
poem by John Celes
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Their expectations...
He sees her as the rainbow at the horizon of his heart,
Appear after slight squabbling drizzle, and the bright,
Shine of repenting smile goes through her, his love,
He sees her as the rainbow at the horizon of his heart.
She sees him as the mist in the vicinity of Niagara Falls,
Frozen in the sea as glacier and hidden in the valleys,
Flows through the river of Niagara to jump on her from the height,
but she rises from the earth and both of them dance in the mid air.
He doesn't want to see her as the moon, as the moon is infidel,
Every Fourteen days her love grows, glows and then diminishes,
She is no where to find for a day, Earth may be patient and kind,
He doesn't want to see her as that infidel,
as she belongs to him every minute.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The repentance
The unfortunate one was dead in her nineties,
In utter poverty and neglects.
She had fed me with stories,
One among them was Parasakthi
Which was later copied in celluloid
By M. Karunanithi as his own.
She told it and kept me to wonder;
She had led me to an imaginary world.
A steel framer and an estranged wife,
She was dear and near to a rich
Neighbour of my kin.
She had two butterflies as daughters,
The younger one was my playmate,
Later, as a woman, once my bedmate.
The elder one, who had many fans,
Retains her glamour even now.
The old woman was dead.
I never repaid my debts;
I never aided against her poverty,
I never cared to see her
While she was ailing and failing.
How ungrateful I am!
Ungratefulness is inborn.
When I am in deathbed,
None of my fans will be by my side.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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We Live In A Material World
We live in a material World though suppose it was always that way
And money does speak every language a wiser one than I did say
Still decency once stood for something though those values now in decay
And nowadays far more greed and corruption materialism is with us to stay.
Much wants more is alive and thriving with millions some are not satisfied
The Joneses next door have a new car and that put a dent in their pride
They must buy one bigger and better they must be the tops in the street
For greed and pride we sacrifice our values as for social status we compete.
I sort of admire the Grim Reaper although he is one that I fear
Since he cannot be bought with money he does have values 'twould appear
And he treats everybody as equal since he does not differentiate
Yet him we do not wish to know of and him we will not celebrate.
We live in a material World where to be poor in it's own way is a crime
Yet rich and poor have one thing in common they all lose out to old father time
Good values were once seen as important but to nothing now such things amount
Your worth is now valued in money and the size of your bank account
poem by Francis Duggan
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It Really Doesn't Matter
You say your ugly, i say it doesn't matter.
You say you have a dark past,
i say it doesn't matter.
You say theirs overwhelming responsibility,
i say it doesn't matter.
I don't believe in walking away when things get hard.
In fact they are my spark to continue my march.
Through thick and thin where to begin.
You say you don't have a way.
I say it doesn't matter.
You say that you cant give back what you would like.
I say it doesn't matter.
You say, you say oh it really doesn't matter,
I live one day at a time.
Choices will be made that will save the day
but hurt me financially.
It doesn't matter Choice will be made
that will set me back in my expectations.
It doesn't matter,
It really doesn't matter.
Its well worth it.
To see the beauty that
you have placed before me.
Oh how its worth it.
To settle down and not be looking to be found.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Self Pride
S
At seventy four still competent
to manage independently.
He is supremely confident,
as he has every right to be.
Although he’s old his sense of pride
ensures he’s always clean and neat.
He will not let his standards slide.
Regarding that as a defeat.
He is well shaved, his trouser pressed.
He’s older than he seems to be,
he’s conscious of the way he’s dressed
both formally and casually
Although he’s old women still see
A fine upstanding specimen
A man who is still proud to be
as smartly dressed as younger men.
His back is straight he walks erect
carries the burden of his years.
Much easier than you might expect.
Old age for him holds no more fears.
He just accepts he cannot do
as quickly or efficiently
all of the things he might want to.
He hasn’t got the energy.
But what he can do is to show
the world he’s still a man
That old age will not bring him low
and by example prove you can.
Defy the ravages of age
it all depends on attitude.
Refusing to be average
there is no reason why you should.
Surrender and accept defeat
but keep on living till you die.
At any age life can be sweet
if only you’re prepared to try.
21-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Hope bleeds gradually
So many hidden stories
Forgotten and ignored
Poverty absorbs life
Hope bleeds gradually
Make do, and mend
Smile and pretend
Slowly, gradually
Visible to invisible
With unchanging smile
Stranger to self
And stranger we deny
As poverty silences
In coldness we comply
Indifference cuts the deepest
Statistics used to deny
Personhood and dignity
Fade, Person to ghost
Dying is easy
It’s living that’s hard
False prophets abound
Hope bleeds gradually
Selling isms by the pound
Disengaged they take the cudgel
Pronounce their humble acts
Do we listen to the stories?
Do we listen to the facts?
Wise in our own eyes
Objective in indifference
Passing by on the other side
So many hidden stories
Forgotten and ignored
Poverty absorbs, denies
Hidden by statistics
Hope bleeds gradually
Make do, and mend
Smile and pretend
Slowly, gradually
Visible to invisible
Christ knows our story
Tell me that it’s true
He bore it on the Cross
We are not alone
Nothing in love is lost
I hope that this is true
Hope bleeds gradually
Whilst Poverty absorbs
Christ knows.
poem by Adrian Wait
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In Poetry There Is No Poverty
there is no poverty in poetry: it is a rich world
of flowers
and magic, of images that imaginations create
a warm sun
the deep blue sea, some mysteries of words
that come
and seemingly carry with them a bountry of meanings
liberation, oblation, jubilation
expression
birds coming out from our mouths
butterflies from our
stomachs
fireworks from our minds
in multicolors
to the darkest skies
of this earth
where can poverty
be
in a world of freedom: to say what you want to say
to think what you want to think
to dream
to imagine
to find meanings where others think there are none?
the secret garden
a path
a gate
a hiding place for all of us who still believe
about life
and aftelife and life after life
temporary deaths
and temporary losses
a jump a leap to the world beyond us
to eternity
we are meant
this i think is poetry and surely
there can never be
poverty
poem by Ayi Escalona
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Regrets I Do Not Keep
Loosing your innocence is easy,
Like lying to your mom about having another cookie,
Doing something you'll regret, is easy.
Sometimes you have something so great,
And you don't know how important it is,
you don't see it's worth until it's too late,
You don't hold it to your heart, you don't keep it safe,
And then you lose it, and you see, it was great.
Falling to a higher power of want is so easy,
Like waving at a stranger in a car you pass on your way to work,
Becoming a victim to sin and temptation is easy.
So many things in life are given to you to keep,
And some of them you could never give up,
Like the right to show your feelings, the right to smile, to weep,
And these things you take as a given, yet they are truly a gift.
And some of these gifts we treat like nothing, some we do not keep.
Becoming and doing something you would never become or do is easy,
Like doing something before you think,
Falling into the hole of regret is easy.
In life you must live for what you have, not the past.
You must realize what you did and notice how it hurt you so,
But never regret what you have done, for that shall only form a cast,
A cast of what you were, one that keeps you still in a solid state,
You must learn; never live in the past.
I believe in the past, yet it is the present I keep,
I move on past things i have done, I do not look back,
For these regrets, I do not keep.
by: Bethany M.
April 16,2009
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Wedding Song
I love you more than ever, more than time and more than love,
I love you more than money and more than the stars above,
Love you more than madness, more than waves upon the sea,
Love you more than life itself, you mean that much to me.
Ever since you walked right in, the circles been complete,
Ive said goodbye to haunted rooms and faces in the street,
To the courtyard of the jester which is hidden from the sun,
I love you more than ever and I havent yet begun.
You breathed on me and made my life a richer one to live,
When I was deep in poverty you taught me how to give,
Dried the tears up from my dreams and pulled me from the hole,
Quenched my thirst and satisfied the burning in my soul.
You gave me babies one, two, three, what is more, you saved my life,
Eye for eye and tooth for tooth, your love cuts like a knife,
My thoughts of you dont ever rest, theyd kill me if I lie,
Id sacrifice the world for you and watch my senses die.
The tune that is yours and mine to play upon this earth,
Well play it out the best we know, whatever it is worth,
Whats lost is lost, we cant regain what went down in the flood,
But happiness to me is you and I love you more than blood.
Its never been my duty to remake the world at large,
Nor is it my intention to sound a battle charge,
cause I love you more than all of that with a love that doesnt bend,
And if there is eternity Id love you there again.
Oh, cant you see that you were born to stand by my side
And I was born to be with you, you were born to be my bride,
Youre the other half of what I am, youre the missing piece
And I love you more than ever with that love that doesnt cease.
You turn the tide on me each day and teach my eyes to see,
Just bein next to you is a natural thing for me
And I could never let you go, no matter what goes on,
cause I love you more than ever now that the past is gone.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Poverty Street
On Poverty Street and Refugee camps far away
The struggles of life it goes on every day
The struggles to live in the face of despair
The have nots of the World have never been rare
The homeless and hungry obliged to sleep rough
And many far too many are doing it tough
And thousands are growing poorer for each new millionaire
No such a thing as equality in the big World out there
On the people of Poverty Street the drug dealers prey
For their own gain they treat their fellow human beings in a disrespectful way
For money to feed their addictions the poor sinned against turn to crime
And they end up in jail for a considerable time
On Poverty Street there is no cause for cheer
And of success stories from there one seldom does hear.
poem by Francis Duggan
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William Street
’Tis William Street, the link street,
That seems to stand alone;
’Tis William Street, the vague street,
With terraces of stone:
That starts with clean, cool pockets,
And ancient stable ways,
And built by solid landlords
And in more solid days.
Beginning where the shadow streets
Of vacant wealth begin,
Street William runs down sadly
Across the vale of sin.
’Tis William Street, the haggard,
Where all the streets are mean
That’s trying to be honest,
That’s trying to keep clean.
’Tis William Street with method,
And nought of show or pride,
That tries to keep its business
Upon the right-hand side.
No pavement exhibition
Of carcases and slops;
But old-established principles
In old-established shops.
’Tis William Street the highway—
Whichever way it be—
To business and the theatres,
Or empty luxury.
’Tis William Street (the East-end)—
The world-wise and exempt—
That sells Potts Point its purgatives
With something of contempt.
With fronts that hint of England,
As England used to be,
Old houses once in gardens,
And signs of Italy.
With hints of the forgotten,
Strange Sydney of the past,
When bricks were burnt for all time,
And walls were built to last.
’Tis William Street that rises
From stagnant dust and heat,
(Old trees by the Museum
Hold back with hands and feet)—
And where the blind are plying
Deft fingers, supple wrists—
’Tis William Street, exclusive,
Where pray the Methodists.
The blind courts see the clearer,
Side lanes grow trim and neat,
The wretched streets are cleaner
That run from William Street.
The sick streets’ lonely matron
Seems stern, as matrons do—
’Tis William Street, redeeming,
Regenerating “Loo.”
poem by Henry Lawson
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Temporary Secretary
Mister Marks Can You Find For Me
Someone Strong And Sweet Fitting On My Knee
She Can Keep Her Job If She Gets It Wrong
Ah, But Mister Marks I Won't Need Her Long
All I Need Is Help For A Little While
We Can Take Dictation And Learn To Smile
And A Temporary Secretary Is What I Need For To Do The Job
I Need A
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Mister Marks Could You Send Her Quick
'Cause My Regular Has Been Getting Sick
I Need A
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Mister Marks I Can Pay Her Well
If She Comes Along And Can Stay A Spell
I Will Promise Now That I'll Treat Her Right
And Will Rarely Keep Her 'Til Late At Night
I Need A ..
She Can Be A Belly Dancer
I Don't Need A Need Romancer
She Can Be A Diplomat
But I Don't Need A Girl Like That
She Can Be A Neurosurgeon
If She's Doin' Nothing' Urgent
What I Need's A Temporary, Temporary Secretary
I Need A, I Need A
Temporary Secretary. Temporary Secretary
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Now Mister Marks When I Send Her Back
Will You Please Make Sure She Stays On The Right Track
Spoken: Well I Know How Hard It Is For Young Girls These Days In The Face Of Everything To Stay On
The Right Track
What I Need's A Temporary, Temporary Secretary
Temporary Secretary I Need A
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary,
Temporary Secretary I Need A
Temporary Secretary. Temporary Secretary,
Temporary Secretary.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Compared To Most I Feel So Lucky
Compared to most I feel so lucky I never have known hunger pain
I've always had a warm bed to sleep in and I've never slept out in the rain
In a World where millions are homeless and millions live in poverty
I am one of the lucky people one of the privileged minority.
In a World where the poor are forgotten and where millions for success compete
Millions are slowly dying of malnutrition their dream is enough food to eat
The suburb of the wealthy and famous the breeding ground of self conceit
By motor car only a short drive from the squalor of Poverty Street.
Compared to most I am so lucky though I'll never be a millionaire
Lady Luck she has always been with me and by life I've been treated fair
The distribution of wealth is disgraceful the reason for inequality
Compared to most I am so lucky I do feel life's been good to me.
I may not have an abundance of money but I have enough of it for to get by
I do feel the tag of Mr Lucky to one like me has to apply
Compared to most I feel quite privileged I do not have any cause to complain
Lady Luck has always been with me and with me I hope she remain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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