A scourge
religion to save men
has become a scourge
of sorts to the human race
well god is not to blame
it is men who have turned
out to be poor poor followers
throw them a god true or false
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Throw Down A Line
Throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos drowning in the stormy sea
Throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos hanging in a nowhere tree
Have you got a place for me
Men are tied in chains of silence
I look on violence, up, down, left and right
Is there no hope of light
The peaceful hand that once caressed me
Hurts like the rest, because its turned to stone
Talons of steel have grown
Throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos drowning in the stormy sea
Throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos hanging in a nowhere tree
Have you got a place for me
Yeah, oh help me, yeah
Throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos drowning in the stormy sea
Throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos hanging in a nowhere tree
Have you got a place for me
See the moon, its getting nearer
But no more clearer than the earth below
What do we really know
I feel the stab of pain returning
Despair is burning in my heart again
Why dont they see the end, ooooh
Throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos drowning in the stormy sea
Yeah, throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos hanging in a nowhere tree
Have you got a place for me
Throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos drowning in the stormy sea
Yeah, throw down a line, help a poor boy
Whos hanging in a nowhere tree
Have you got a place for me
song performed by by Cliff Richard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hollywood Holiday
I rode my motorcycle through a watermelon patch
Right on the california freeway
I took my holy Bible on my blessed boogie woogie drive
Cause I know I know I know
Where I go oh lord theyre gonna bless me jive
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do
I parked my motorcycle on hollywood and vine
And sang till my red blood turned boiling blue
I took my sole survival and bore my cross on a string
Cause I know I know I know
What I dear I bear my charm to king
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do
song performed by by Gino Vanelli

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Tell Me About It I know All Too Well
Why tell me about It I know all too well
That many are living in their Earthly Hell
The hungry the homeless the poor and downtrod
They must be the children of some Lesser God.
Why tell me about it I know for the have nots life must seem unfair
So many grow poorer for every new millionaire
The scourge of poverty rife in every Race
In a fair Human World this would not be the case.
Even in so called wealthy Nations poverty does abound
Not too far from where the rich live the homeless to be found
The streets of the poor suburb a breeding ground for crime
Where many don't live to enjoy their life's prime.
Why tell me about it of course I'm aware
That the poor of the World have never been rare
And millions are living in dire poverty
In a fair Human World this would never be.
poem by Francis Duggan

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I Blame You
Ten miles from nowhere
Theres a story thats true
About a fine girl
And a boy just like you
They fell so deeply
But then fell apart
Now they say the same words
Of what used to be
What used to be
I blame you (I blame you)
I blame you (I blame you)
I blame you (I blame you)
He drops his car keys
And crawls on the ground
Finds her old haircomb
Shed wear into town
Cant bear to keep it
Or throw it away
Gets back down on his kness
Put it back where it lay
Back where it lay
I blame you (I blame you)
I blame you (I blame you)
I blame you (I blame you)
Notes
There is a different song on dial-a-song with the same tune as this. it is titled free birds rebirth, and goes:
Listen dear people
To a story so sad
About a poor boy
Who never went bad
He got some chain mail
But he broke the chain
Now he must sing free bird
Again and again
Again and again
Again and again
Free bird
Free bird
song performed by by They Might Be Giants

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Baby
Orbison/c & r price
Glittery eyes; witchy smiles
A good time is all you are after
Skin tight thighs; little white lies
Put you in the center of the laughter
But your reign of queen is over
Your fortress has been broken down
You're still the center of the laughter
But your role has changed to the clown
Chorus
Ooh poor baby
Someone broke your heart in two
Ooh poor baby
Who would have thought it could happen to you
Poor baby
A pretty face; sweet talkin' ways
Got you a part of the action
A come-over-touch, glances and such
You always had to be the main attraction
Now you're the one who's crying
You lost at your own lonely game
You're still the center of attraction
But now i'm gone, you've got yourself to blame
Chorus
Ooh poor baby
Do what you said you'd never do
Ooh poor baby
You let someone get much too close to you
Poor baby
Poor baby,poor baby
Poor baby,poor baby
song performed by by Roy Orbison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Skeleton Steps Out
Poor skeleton steps out,
Dressed up in bad blood,
Bad brains, bad thoughts, and others deeds.
Poor skeleton no doubt,
One of these days,
You can cast aside your human, be free.
When the cities run with blood,
And you drink our health in mud,
All flesh be gone.
Save your dry and joyous shout,
For the day poor skeleton steps out.
Poor skeleton steps out,
Sprung from his life sentence,
Deep inside some muscle mask.
Poor skeleton devout,
Propping up truck drivers,
Filmstars, thieves or queens, your brave task.
When technology is rust,
And you write your book in dust,
All flesh be gone.
Cant buy tickets from a tout,
For the day poor skeleton steps out.
Poor skeleton steps out,
Liberated from sex organs,
And brown, black, white skin.
Poor skeleton you lout,
Dont you think that we might,
Like to have been asked to join in?
For good skeletons are we,
And were dying to be free,
All flesh be gone.
I will scream or sulk and pout,
Until my poor skeleton steps out.
Better watch out, here comes bony boy.
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Search Is For True Happiness
Our search is for true happiness but such we cannot find
And such a gift if it exist not meant for human kind
For some this life is hard so hard a battle all the way
Their plate with food is seldom full they live from day to day.
And others with more than enough are not prepared to share
And for the hungry and the poor they spare no thought of care
They are possessed by demon greed their demon grow and grow
The more they have the more they want and unhappiness they know.
The more they have the more they want they live with grasping hand
And why wars and famines in the world not hard to understand
Too many die for want of food and too few seem to care
And a half a million become poor to make one millionaire.
And greed and the great need for power the scourge on human kind
And our search is for true happiness if such there is to find
And the distribution of wealth as ever seems unfair
And the hoarders far too many and the kind of heart too rare.
poem by Francis Duggan

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If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not a poet enough to call forth its riches; for to the creator there is no poverty and no poor indifferent place.
quote by Rainer Maria Rilke

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Go For Simplicity My Friend
i go for simplicity my friend
because i am poor
i do not go for sophistication
because i am poor
i do not complicate matters
because i am poor
i do not want you to misunderstand
because i am poor
i do not want you to think some more
because i am poor
i do not want to convince you
because i am poor
i do not want you to be with our side
because we are poor
i want all things in their simplified forms
because we cannot afford
any other form of convolutions
we cannot afford another revolution
it will be expensive
and we have no more years to give
to pay for the sponsors
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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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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If I were dead
'IF I were dead, you'd sometimes say, Poor Child!'
The dear lips quiver'd as they spake,
And the tears brake
From eyes which, not to grieve me, brightly smiled.
Poor Child, poor Child!
I seem to hear your laugh, your talk, your song.
It is not true that Love will do no wrong.
Poor Child!
And did you think, when you so cried and smiled,
How I, in lonely nights, should lie awake,
And of those words your full avengers make?
Poor Child, poor Child!
And now, unless it be
That sweet amends thrice told are come to thee,
O God, have Thou no mercy upon me!
Poor Child!
poem by Coventry Patmore

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Poverty
I saw an old cottage of clay,
And only of mud was the floor;
It was all falling into decay,
And the snow drifted in at the door.
Yet there a poor family dwelt,
In a hovel so dismal and rude;
And though gnawing hunger they felt,
They had not a morsel of food.
The children were crying for bread,
And to their poor mother they’d run;
‘Oh, give us some breakfast,’ they said,
Alas! their poor mother had none.
She viewed them with looks of despair,
She said (and I’m sure it was true),
‘’Tis not for myself that I care,
But, my poor little children, for you.’
O then, let the wealthy and gay
But see such a hovel as this,
That in a poor cottage of clay
They may know what true misery is.
And what I may have to bestow
I never will squander away,
While many poor people I know
Around me are wretched as they.
poem by Jane Taylor

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Not As Different!
as long as you keep
the poor working class
of men and women divided....
afraid of each other,
hating each other,
fighting each other....
divided by race and religion,
by language and other imposed barriers....
as long as you keep them divided,
then you can keep them poor.
take all they have,
take all they build,
take all their dreams....
divided.... but oh,
if they ever unite...
they'll change the world.
we're not as different
as they would like us
......to believe!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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I cannot sufficiently admire the divine tact of thus training the chosen race for centuries in religion before even hinting the shining secret of eternal life. He behaves like the rich lover in a romance who woos the maiden on his own merits, disguised as a poor man, and only when he has won her reveals that he has a throne and palace to offer. For I cannot help thinking that any religion which begins with a thirst for immortality is damned, as a religion, from the outset. Until a certain spiritual level has been reached, the promise of immortality will always operate as a bribe which vitiates the whole religion and infinitely inflames those very self-regards which religion must cut down and uproot.
C.S. Lewis in The Grand Miracle

Submitted by Rebeca Bucur
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There are two types of poor people, those who are poor together and those who are poor alone. The first are the true poor, the others are rich people out of luck.
quote by Jean-Paul Sartre

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dogs' View
I'm only just a common racing dog,
Simple in habit, and my diet's plain.
I have never had a longing for the grog
That some men seem to need, more vim to gain.
And I have heard it said of such a one,
Who in his swilling emulates the hogs:
'He's boozing day and night: he's getting done.
Poor man,' they say: 'he's going to the dogs.'
But now 'tis threatened that a dog should win
A newer culture and a swifter pace
By taking to the whisky and the gin,
That he may wax more reckless in the race.
And we, who hitherto have been content
With just a lap of water and a rub,
Will soon enough contract that human bent
Of knocking off and going to the pub.
And then, who knows? Some badly balanced pup,
Weak-willed, and too intent on hectic joys,
Will learn too soon the way to liquor up
And have a jolly evening with the boys.
And we shall say of such a one, in blame:
'It's quite all right to have one new and then;
But he has overdone this drinkning game.
Poor dog,' we'll say: 'He's going to the men.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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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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If I Had A Million In Money
Though money will not save you from the reaper and your mental depression won't cure
I'd rather be wealthy and unhappy than to be unhappy and poor
For how can some one poor be truly happy and it does not make much sense to me
When some says he is happy go lucky though he is living in poverty?
If I had a million in money I could help out a needy few
For if you are a poor ordinary battler not much to help out can you do
I know what it feels like without money one might say tell us something new
And that money can speak any language as ever happens to be true.
You may be a well meaning person a kind soul with a heart of gold
But lack of money is your major drawback the same old story as of old
And without money you cannot do much for others though you can help them in some other way
Like doing work for some needy person without asking for any pay.
If I had a million in money I could help a few friends in need
And others would say he is generous and by good example he lead
But I am as poor as a church mouse and I've never been financially secure
And like everyone lacking in money I cannot do much for the poor.
poem by Francis Duggan

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If There Is A God 'Twould Seem To Me
If there is a God 'twould seem to me that God would not have a creed
Or would not favour any religious belief such divisive influences a supreme being would not need
Amongst his or her Earthly followers the real God would rule for everyone
A real God would act as a real God should when all is said and done.
Amongst his flock for even an atheist the real God would find a place
And a real God would not differentiate between Nationality and Race
Those who say the God they believe in is the one true God they do have it all wrong
If there is a God surely that God to everyone does belong.
A real God is for her and him as well as you and me
A real God is for everyone though you do not agree
Only in the God of your religion the true God you do see
Suppose as some are known to say we all look at things differently.
If there is a God it does seem to me that God is of human kind
And every good person he or she the real God lives in their mind
And whether you live as an atheist or to a God you do pray
As long as you are a good person with me that is okay.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Sonnet: Such Blaming is Futile
Why blame poor Death when it does its duty?
Why blame the land for becoming desert?
Why blame Nature for unleashing fury?
Why blame dame Luck for being so inert?
Why blame the Sun for scorching summer’s heat?
Why blame the winter for its freezing cold?
Why blame the Wind for turning land less neat?
Why blame women for asking diamonds, gold?
Why blame the Sky for not bringing the Rain?
Why blame the Air for becoming so foul?
Why blame the nerves for sensation of pain?
Why blame the devils for your sinful soul?
Why blame the Stars for good or bad life brings?
Why blame your God for bad turn of some things?
poem by John Celes

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