The Poor Can Feed the Birds
Ragged, unheeded, stooping, meanly shod,
The poor pass to the pond: not far away
The spires go up to God.
Shyly they come from the unpainted lane;
Coats have they made of old unhappiness
That keeps in every pain.
The rich have fear, perchance their God is dim;
’Tis with the hope of stored-up happiness
They build the spires to Him.
The rich go out in clattering pomp and dare
In the most holy places to insult
The deep Benevolence there.
But ’tis the poor who make the loving words.
Slowly they stoop; it is a Sacrament:
The poor can feed the birds.
Old, it is old, this scattering of the bread,
Deep as forgiveness, or the tears that go
Out somewhere to the dead.
The feast of love, the love that is the cure
For all indignities—it reigns, it calls,
It chains us to the pure.
Seldom they speak of God, He is too dim;
So without thought of after happiness
They feed the birds for Him.
The rich men walk not here on the green sod,
But they have builded towers, the timorous
That still go up to God.
Still will the poor go out with loving words;
In the long need, the need for happiness
The poor can feed the birds.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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Related quotes
The Very Thing That Makes You Rich
My father told me, lying on his bed of death,
"boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self
'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand
And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor
The very thing that makes her rich will make you poor"
That's right!
Well, i put you behind the wheel of a deuce and a quarter, yes i did
Had you living like a rich man's daughter, yes i did, i sure did
While you were living high on the hog
You had me down here scuffling like a dog
Well, the very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
The very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Don't you never ever make such a bad mistake
You know i'd rather climb into bed with a rattlesnake
Then to work hard every day bringing that woman all my pay
The very thing that makes you rich makes me poor,
Makes me so damn poor
The thing that makes her rich makes me poor
The very thing that makes you rich make me poor
Very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Makes me so damned poor
Money won't change it, no no...
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich and Poor
In me a sense has felt like each,
One causes others to wonder of strange beliefs,
In a feeding are the poor,
Poor are the opposite of the Rich.
In this side of the valley,
The Rich are better at living,
In opposition to the laughter
Of the Poor.
Poor is not Rich,
And Rich carries no Wealth
Of Heavenly Times.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tears of the poor
Tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich.
Shedding of blood
Rich man's headache,
Poor men's justice.
Water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish,
Fire is the only solution
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is lover's desire
Poor men's unbearable pain.
Din is the only right choice
To put forth your demand.
Dew is the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and the king,
Morning is the 1st step
Of that poor men's sufferings.
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tears of the poor man (alternative version)
The tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich,
Yet the shedding of blood
Is the rich man's headache...
And what of the poor man's justice?
In truth, water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish!
Fire is the only solution!
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is each lover's desire,
Yet the poor man's unbearable pain.
Making a din is the only right choice
To put forth your final demand.
Dew is but the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and their kings,
While morning is but the first step
Of each poor man's sufferings..
poem by Abdul Wahab
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The Tears Of The Poor Man
The tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich,
Yet the shedding of blood
Is the rich man's headache...
And what of the poor man's justice?
In truth, water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish!
Fire is the only solution!
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is each lover's desire,
Yet the poor man's unbearable pain.
Making a din is the only right choice
To put forth your final demand.
Dew is but the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and their kings,
While morning is but the first step
Of each poor man's sufferings...
poem by Denis Martindale
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The poor rich
Who is poor rich? Who is rich poor?
A lone duck among swans is poor rich.
A lone swan among ducks is rich poor.
Each circle has either of one in it.
30.05.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The man whose riches satisfy his greed
The man whose riches satisfy his greed
Is not more rich for all those heaps and hoards
Than some poor man who has enough to feed
And clothe his corpse with such as God affords.
I have no use for men who steal and cheat;
The fruit of evil poisons those who eat.
Some wicked men are rich, some good men poor,
But I would rather trust in what's secure;
Our virtue sticks with us and makes us strong,
But money changes owners all day long.
Rich & Poor; or Saint & Sinner
The poor man's sins are glaring;
In the face of ghostly warning
He is caught in the fact
Of an overt act---
Buying greens on a Sunday morning.
The rich man's sins are hidden
In the pomp of wealth and station;
And escape the sight
Of the children of light,
Who are wise in their generation.
The rich man has a kitchen,
And cooks to dress his dinner;
The poor who would roast
To the baker's must post,
And thus becomes a sinner.
The rich man has a cellar,
And a ready butler by him;
The poor man must steer
For his pint of beer
Where the saint can't choose but to spy him.
The rich man's painted windows
Hide the concerts of the quality;
The poor can but share
A crack'd fiddle in the air,
Which offends all sound morality.
The rich man is invisible
In the crowd of his gay society;
But the poor man's delight
Is a sore in the sight,
And a stench in the nose of piety.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Poor Folks Town
The work is hard and the hours are long
The money aint much but we get along
Were rich in things can give
That cant be bought with a dollar bill
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no carpets on the floor
Weve got wall to wall love
Who could ask for more
We got no big fine things to show
Just a place to watch our children grow
We got no big fine fancy car to drive
And no fancy clothes to keep in style
What weve got were payin on
But its mostly love that were livin on
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
Weve got a little simple church nearby
And the promise of a mansion in the sky
A heart of gold a million dollar smile
And a one way ticket to paradise
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bailout My Soul
My soul, is now empty
I know not, what to think
of this demise from, the rich and greedy
Shame on you all, forgettin' the poor and needy
The human spirit will still, soar on through
Although the poor are forgotten
oh my, thats' me and you
It's not that your poor
with your money machines
printing what ceo's need
more of the green
For we are in a worldy mess
never were poor mentioned
as Dylan once spoke
this so called rich American society
is but a joke
poem by Matt Mondschein
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Talk about Love!
I was thinking and talking about love
and its various definitions.
Each one has his love
who resides within
and not even you can understand
There are people who love few,
only for him
to show, to use
but it is all he has
poor love, but even so is love
others love so completely
and intensely
rich in love and poor in happiness.
has philosopher of love
against love
for pain
But we can not escape the pain
and if love is just love and pain
ah! please let me die of love
I prefer the Poet of the Sea by Arthur Pessimistic! !
poem by Mirna Morgan
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Little By Little
Poor man's anger rising.
The ostrich hides his head.
Soon the red blood will be boiling.
And blue blood will be dead.
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down
Poor boy sleeps on straw,
The rich boy sleeps in bed.
That fat boy fills his belly,
My poor boys's a dead,
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down.
The rich man drives his car past,
The poor man on bare feet.
That rich man do get what he wants
The poor must know defeat,
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down.
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shallow Grave
When I fall in endless sleep
I hope that I'll be buried deep
Let me be the one that fortune favours
Even good children got shallow graves
Throw another clown to the lions
Throw another Joan on the blaze
Cast me away on the cruel calm ocean
and leave me for days and days and days and days and days
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
I won't lie, I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Bless the poor 'cos like the rich
They all end up in a ditch
In this world of fools and knaves
Even good children got shallow graves
The tinker, the tailor, the fabulous five
Nobody gets out of this alive
Chorus
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down, dig me down, dig me down deep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Damet world
Poor dog
Walking
On the street...
Rich dog
In side
The home
Sounded
Waa...wa...waa...
poor street dog
Also
Sounded...
Dog also
poor or rich...?
The damet world...!
waa waa
waaaa
Rich and poor dogs...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Not Rich In Money
I may not be rich in money but I'm rich of happiness
I don't care about money
Why?
Money can't buy everything, especially feelings
Money can't last forever
I'm happy even though I'm not rich
I have a good life, I have wonderful friends and families, and most of all: I am loved and cared
Being loved and cared is far better than having money
What will you choose?
Money or friendship and love?
I am grateful for all the things God gave me
Money doesn't matter
So what if you have a lot of money
But do you feel happy?
Being happy is more important than money
Why?
Because if you're not happy... it's hard to heal unhappiness as time goes by
I am happy as long as my family and friends care about me
I am happy to have such wonderful friends and family that supports me everyday
I am happy
Even if I'm poor... but I'm happy because my family and friends fill my heart with laughters, jokes, and smile in which all the burdens and stress flows away like the wind
Being poor is good though
You see poor people that are happy
Because they have each other
You can do anything with each other and do anything together
I am thankful God...
Thank you forgiving me such a wonderful life with the best friends and family in the world
Thank you for making me feel happiness everyday
Thank you God, for supoorting me, my family, and my friends
Thank you God, for protecting everybody in this world. Even you.
The Poor Is Wealthy
Blessings upon them conceived,
And the rich becomes empty,
By the root of evil they are deceived.
The humble rejoice,
Knowing life in the balance
Prayers are answered with grace,
Gods will in our conscience.
Whatever you magnify,
Will become your god,
The poor is wealthy,
Sometimes they are sad.
When their eyes are wet,
Like blur violet, it's hard to be proud
Feeling totally inadequate,
The poor put their trust in God.
Blessed are the poor in spirit;
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Those who recognize they have no credit
There is treasure stored up for them.
Some are rich and have acquired wealth,
God chosen those who are poor,
In the eyes of the world to be rich in faith,
And inherit a kingdom on the celestial shore.
poem by Gerry Legister
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An Autumn Reverie
Alas! Beautiful Summer now hath fled,
And the face of Nature doth seem dead,
And the leaves are withered, and falling off the trees,
By the nipping and chilling autumnal breeze.
The pleasures of the little birds are all fled,
And with the cold many of them will be found dead,
Because the leaves of the trees are scattered in the blast,
And makes the feathered creatures feel downcast.
Because there are no leaves on the trees to shield them from the storm
On a windy, and rainy, cloudy morn;
Which makes their little hearts throb with pain,
By the chilling blast and the pitiless rain.
But still they are more contented than the children of God,
As long as they can pick up a worm from the sod,
Or anything they can get to eat,
Just, for instance, a stale crust of bread or a grain of wheat.
Oh! Think of the little birds in the time of the snow,
Also of the little street waifs, that are driven to and fro,
And trembling in the cold blast, and chilled to the bone,
For the want of food and clothing, and a warm home.
Besides think of the sorrows of the wandering poor,
That are wandering in the cold blast from door to door;
And begging, for Heaven's sake, a crust of bread,
And alas! Not knowing where to lay their head.
While the rich are well fed and covered from the cold,
While the poor are starving, both young and old;
Alas! It is the case in this boasted Christian land,
Where as the rich are told to be kind to the poor, is God's command.
Oh! Think of the working man when he's no work to do,
Who's got a wife and family, perhaps four or two,
And the father searching for work, and no work can be had,
The thought, I'm sure, 'tis enough to drive the poor man mad.
Because for his wife and family he must feel,
And perhaps the thought thereof will cause him to steal
Bread for his family, that are starving at home,
While the thought thereof makes him sigh heavily and groan.
Alas! The pangs of hunger are very hard to hide,
And few people can their temper control,
Or become reconciled to their fate,
Especially when they cannot find anything to eat.
Oh! Think of the struggles of the poor to make a living,
Because the rich unto them seldom are giving;
Wereas they are told he that giveth to the poor lendeth unto the Lord,
But alas! they rather incline their money to hoard.
Then theres the little news-vendors in the street,
Running about perhaps with bare feet;
And if the rich chance to see such creatures in the street,
In general they make a sudden retreat.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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For Lovin' Me
(words & music by gordon lightfoot)
That's what you get for loving me
That's what you get for loving me
Everything we had is gone, you can see
That's what you get for loving me
Now don't you shed a tear for me
I ain't the love you thought i'd be
I've had a hundred just like you
But don't be blue i'll have a thousand before i'm through
That's what you get for loving me
That's what you get for loving me
Everything we had is gone, you can see
That's what you get for loving me
Now there you go, you're cryin' again
You should have known how things would end
But then some day when your poor heart is on the mend
I just might pass this way again
That's what you get for loving me
That's what you get for loving me
Everything we had is gone, you can see
That's what you get for loving me
That's what you get for loving me
That's what you get for loving me
Everything we had is gone, you can see
That's what you get for loving me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shallow Graves
When I fall in endless sleep
I hope that Ill be buried deep
Let me be the one that fortune favours
Even good children got shallow graves
Throw another clown to the lions
Throw another joan on the blaze
Cast me away on the cruel calm ocean
And leave me for days and days and days and days and days
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
I wont lie, I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Bless the poor cos like the rich
They all end up in a ditch
In this world of fools and knaves
Even good children got shallow graves
The tinker, the tailor, the fabulous five
Nobody gets out of this alive
Chorus
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down, dig me down, dig me down deep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money
When I had money, money, O!
I knew no joy till I went poor;
For many a false man as a friend
Came knocking all day at my door.
Then felt I like a child that holds
A trumpet that he must not blow
Because a man is dead; I dared
Not speak to let this false world know.
Much have I thought of life, and seen
How poor men’s hearts are ever light;
And how their wives do hum like bees
About their work from morn till night.
So, when I hear these poor ones laugh,
And see the rich ones coldly frown—
Poor men, think I, need not go up
So much as rich men should come down.
When I had money, money, O!
My many friends proved all untrue;
But now I have no money, O!
My friends are real, though very few.
poem by William Henry Davies
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