Poor but rich
Poor but rich in flowers
I lay amongst those stems
In them burning gem's
I hear my singing, child
singing to the croaking, frogs
sweet words-
of jangled, thought!
And time I have to laze
And read a poem,
That leaves me dazed,
In humble, awe!
I'm poor, but rich in flowers…
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Related quotes
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
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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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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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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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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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Bring Me a Poem, Sing Me a Song
Sing me a song, read me a poem
Bring a poem, sing me a song
Sing me a "Je t'aime"
And don't stop reading the long
And beautiful poem that I composed for you
Oh! The moon is bright and the sky is blue
Keep on reading, keep on singing
Bring me the flowers of summer and spring
Keep on singing, keep on reading.
Canta me una bella canción.
Teach me a wonderful lesson.
Love is in the air, the poets are happy,
And the women at the beach are really pretty.
Bring me a poem, sing me a song;
This time, you cannot go wrong.
Sing me a song; read me a long poem,
So I can enjoy this fantastic season,
For the right and appropriate reason,
Because you just told me "Que tu m'aimes,
That you love me, Que tu me amas".
Tell me more; read me more, at last!
Sing me more, bring me more flowers,
More poems, more songs and more jitters.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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21 - Victorian Poverty
A period of extreme poverty of the lower working classes
As they worked to the death the rich sat politely on their arses
London’s poor tried to scrape a living doing jobs the devil created
As the rich sat at their windows laughing at the pitiful souls they hated
The poor would have sooner died than enter the poor houses control
As it was not fit to harbor a single living human soul
Small boys were used to clean narrow sooted chimneys
While in the coal mines children worked on their hands and knees
Although this golden age pioneered many useful inventions
Children privileged to go to school were whipped instead of detentions
And as the poor worked for a life at every waking hour
The rich covered their stench with perfume and wild flowers
The poor had nothing and hardly anything to eat
While the rich enjoyed tea and honey and sherbet lemon sweets
In Victorian London the poor just lived and died
The rich never really noticed the rich never really cried
A period of extreme poverty of the lower working classes
As they worked to the death the rich sat politely on their asses
poem by Nicola Burkett
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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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A Little Street Where Old Friends Meet
(h. woods, g. kahn)
Its just a little street
Where old friends meet,
Id love to wander back
Someday.
To you, it may be old,
And sort of tumbled down,
But it means a lot to folks
In my hometown.
Although Im rich or poor,
I still feel sure
Im welcome as the flowers in may.
Its just a little street
Where old friends meet,
And treat you in the same old way.
~interlude~
Although Im rich or poor,
I still feel sure
Im welcome as the flowers in may.
Its just a little street
Where old friends meet,
And treat you in the same old way.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Borrower And The Lender
Take time with me my love,
For my sweet dinner is now set before you;
But the rich rule over the poor and,
The borrower is a servant to the lender!
Evil people do not understand judgement,
So take a time with me on this love;
For a poor peson who opresses the poor is like,
A driving rain which leaves no food!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sweet Child
Your sweet child is sleeping but,
My sweet child is on the way;
So swift be thy flight oh my little one,
And like fresh shower for the thirsty flowers.
To rest on their mothers breasts and,
To feed on their mothers breasts;
And from love's shining circles on this issue,
But listen to the springs like a flowing music.
When friendship decays, true love lies withered;
But i will swing along with my child on the wings of love!
And like the blossom of the heavens with the gates of light.
Oh Isles of perfume,
In a vale of flowers to seek for your children;
And like a gift that is wrapped with love than hate,
For my muse will find a way to touch your hearts.
Life is like a child at play when her mother sleeps,
But in the land of roses i have found my love;
And with beautiful flowers singing to us for peace,
For in a humble prayer i will come to you with joy.
Oh lights of lovely scent afar,
Hymns of joy and sweet bed of flowers;
I married very late but,
I will like to see my grandchild before i die.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Human Rights
If you were a child of a beggar
You would understand better what is human right.
It is normal to exist rich and poor people
Cause they are not equal from point of view of quality
But huge gap between the rich and the poor
Is the seed of hostility.
Please try to understand how a person feels
When he is hurt.
Why have you born? Why will you die?
Have you thought it over?
How much time is left for you?
Have you figured it out?
For us scarcity of time is more
Than that of wealth on earth!
Only kindness can bring peace on earth.
poem by Asif Andalib
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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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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
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Are you rich?
Because parents are rich
I am not rich.
Because brothers or sisters
Or in-laws are rich,
Because own children are rich
I am no richer.
Unless I myself am rich
I cannot be rich.
Too late to understand
And hence poor I went.
Agartala
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Between The Rich and The Poor
Who draws the gap between people?
They call them rich, they call them poor
The rich squander in wealth and abundance
The poor wonder what to eat next time.
Who allows injustice as iron fists
Smashing down the humble dignity
Of the weak, elevating the powerful
To decide what for the poor is best?
Who wakes up in the middle of the night
Feeling the grumbling hungry tummy
Over an open roof and empty plates?
Who orders trips to paradise during holidays
Hoarding bank shares and silver and gold?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Tuvvi Tuvvi
SERENADING THE SEASON OF SPRING WITH SMILES
ARE THE BIRDS SINGING MELODY OF TUVVI TUVVI
DANCING TO THE BEAUTY OF BLOOMING DAFFODILS
ARE THE LEAVES IN THE WIND WHISTLING TUVVI TUVVI
USHERING THE WARM SUNSHINE OF THE SPRING
ARE THE WALTZING SHADOWS SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
BORDERING THE GREEN GRASS ALL AROUND BEAMING
ARE THE SWAYING TREES SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
WELCOMING THE BRIGHT SPRING IS THE BEAUTIFUL MORNING
REFLECTING ITS LIGHT ON FLOWING STREAMS OF SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
SEEING THE SIGNS OF NEW LIFE PRAISING
ARE THE GRATEFUL HEARTS SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
BLOOMING ARE THE FLOWERS IN SPRING COLORS
INVITING THE BEES BUZZING TUVVI TUVVI
FILLING THIS WORLD WITH SWEET SOUNDS OF LAUGHTER
ARE THE CHILDREN SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
Transalation of Poem by KUVEMPU
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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