To Pound Into Salt
To pound the poor needs practice,
My praise is for the jumpers within;
Not in a million years do shapes appear,
For poor people to see the light of day.
Little men crawl and laugh incessantly,
Opening the gates of heavenly splendour,
Entering the regions most divine;
I see a blessing on the wall to matter,
The one of poverty is small on this wall.
Can the innocent ones perceive the salt?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Voicelessness
Poverty makes the poor voiceless
It muffles their mouths
like a kidnapper muffles
the mouth of his victim
Whatever the poor say
does not matter
No matter how true it is
No matter how wise it is
The poor are not consulted
on their concerns
as if they are dead
Money talks on and on
while the poor are forced to listen on
Poverty makes the poor voiceless
poem by Chanda Nsofu
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An infernal machine that produces every minute an impressive amount of poor, 26 million poor in 10 years are 2.6 million per year of new poor, this is the road, well, the road to hell.
quote by Hugo Chavez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Reading Of The World's 100 Wealthiest People
The World's many billion people controlled by the greedy few
But to every billionaire there is there are a million who
Go to sleep weak and hungry their wasted bodies thin
For days they haven't eaten their bones showing through their skin.
The World's 100 wealthiest people their names published today
And yet the poor grow poorer it has always been this way
And the social gap keeps widening and with it inequality
And not far from where the wealthy live there's want and poverty
Not far from where the wealthy live you see social decay
The slums that reek of poverty the buildings old and gray
The sad faced mother of the slums her kids out of control
Her husband in jail for larceny and she is on the dole.
Of the World's 100 wealthiest people why should I wish to know
When poverty is rampant and the numbers of the hungry grow
If the World's wealthiest person Bill Gates fed the hungry of Sudan
I too would sing his praises and I'd say what a man.
The World's wealthiest people their names published today
But not too far from where they live there is social decay
And that they are worth billions show how greedy they must be
When millions of poor people must live in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Small Plot Of Land
Poor soul
Spit upon that
Poor soul
He never knew what hit him
And it hit him so
Poor dunce
He pushed back the pigmen
The barbs laughed
The fool is dead
Poor dunce
Hes less than within us
The brains talk
But the will to live is dead
And prayer cant
Travel so far these days
The talk of your life
Standing so near
To innocent eyes
Poor dunce
Swings thru the tunnels
And claws his way
Is small life so manic
Are these really the days
Poor dunce
Poor dunce
Poor soul
Poor soul
Poor soul
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Wealthy Whingers
Why do some very wealthy people see fit for to complain
When they already have more than enough seems beyond me to explain
Since to whinge they do not have a reason it does occur to me
That their money is not an antidote for their spiritual poverty
Worth millions in money and assets but it does seem sad to say
That their type more to be pitied spiritually poor in their small way
Like 'tis said much always wants more in their case this does apply
Why some wealthy people crave for more I really wonder why
Not far from their leafy suburb live the poor of poverty street
The homeless and the down and outs who never have enough to eat
Five hundred thousand dollars in yearly profit after tax and they complain for us not a good year
The more some have the more some want or so it does appear
They are just wealthy whingers some are so hard to please
In a World where millions of poor people are dying of hunger and disease.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Wall
I shall beat my head against the wall
Until the moment that I die.
Or until the wall does fall
Then beside it I will sit and cry.
Then on another wall I must beat my head,
Until I just cant stand the pain
Then you will understand what I have said
My loss; will be your gain.
And on that wall will be my blood
And there it will always stay,
Mixed with the stone it will be the mud
And like my pain it wont wash away.
I will pound my head against the wall
Until the moment that I am dead
And only then, will I stand tall
Because then will my anguish will be fed.
As I hold no sorrows or remorse
So much pain that I will release
As this is my only course
And only you this action will it please.
I will pound my head against the wall
Until the moment that I am dead
And from the wall my blood will fall
In remembrance of the words I have said.
Then the world will know that I died that day
As my soul will be all that will be left
And in your mind to GOD you will here me pray,
As my destiny, has then been set.
I will pound my head against this wall
Don't you know that I am dying
Then one day, this time you will recall
As you will know that I never was lying.
My blood will be kept on this old stone wall
And there for you it will always stay
And only then will this man stand tall
Because then you will understand what I did say.
Now only GOD can hear what I am crying
From the actions that I did or even say
Upon this wall please know I was only trying
But until then, it will remind you of myself everyday.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Poverty and Indigence.
Poverty and Indigence.
Is it poverty, ?
Is it indigence, ?
The Master of Paranoia,
Do they know poverty, ?
When they lack troth,
When you are in poverty,
Theres no water,
No clothes,
No basic needs,
Indigence is when you are in the streets,
You keep on calling,
Saying,
I be here and saying I'm poor,
You're rich, oh stiff creature,
You're having eyes and can walk,
Lovable creature,
You never missed a single bliss since Creation,
You're never poor,
Ever rich,
Forever rich for the Heavenly Sanctuary.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Poverty Is A Relative Thing
It is true poverty is a relative thing
A poor bloke buys his girlfriend a ten dollar ring
But to a pauper one with ten dollars is not poor at all
What to one seems big to another seems small,
That poverty is a relative thing seems so true
You may well be poor but many poorer than you
There are millions of homeless on Poverty Street
Searching in rubbish bins to find something to eat
And there are millions who lay down to rest hungry at night
And sleep in the open under the starlight
At least you have a roof over your head and a bed on which to lie
And it will not be of malnutrition that you will die
And of those down on their luck the singer may sing
But poverty can be a relative thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
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You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.
these are the most
abused word: the poor
and oppressed
the masses, the crowd
and mob,
the people, always in the name
of the people
for, by,
in,
how many crimes shall
be committed still
for, by,
in,
how many justifications are
built like bricks upon
a wall
a wall that walls us all out
from their
exclusivity in
stolen luxuries
that man
robs us all in the name of the people
that man who washes his
hands
upon a basin of water
there is this man who was murdered
suffered an injustice
as it is written
all in the name of the people
the people that kills him
the same people that he saves
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The World's One Hundred Wealthiest
The World's many billion people controlled by the greedy few
But to every billionaire there is there are a million who
Go to sleep weak and hungry their wasted bodies thin
For days they have not eaten their bones showing through
their skin.
The world's one hundred wealthiest people their names published today
And yet the poor grow poorer it has always been this way
And the social gap keeps widening and with it inequality
And not far from where the wealthy live there's want and poverty.
Not far from where the wealthy live you see social decay
The slums that reek of poverty the buildings old and gray
The sad faced mother of the slums her kids out of control
Her husband in jail for larceny and she is on the dole.
Of the world's one hundred wealthiest people why should I wish to know?
When poverty is rampant and the numbers of the hungry grow
If the world's wealthiest person Bill Gates fed the hungry of Sudan
I too would sing his praises and I'd say what a man.
The world's weaalthiest people their names published today
But not too far from where they live there is social decay
And that they are worth billions show how greedy they must be
When millions of poor people must live in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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Leonardo
The one on portrait hanging on the wall
Perhaps the best that history can recall
He lived and worked five hundred years ago
And still the legend of Leonardo grow.
A Poet, a Scientist and an Engineer
An Inventor and an Artist without peer
From near poverty to fame at a time
When to be poor was looked on as a crime.
Leonardo the greatest son of Italy
Opened the gate to modern technology
No stranger to the book of history
In five hundred years no greater one than he.
Five centuries back he said that man would fly
And the legend live his fame will never die
His dusty portrait in old frame hang on wall
Perhaps the best that history can recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mirror, Mirror, Bloody Fibber
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Can't you show me tall and slim?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Must I look so bloody grim?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
You're distorting my poor waist!
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
And why the heck am I defaced?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Why have I a double chin?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
And what's the stupid, goofy grin?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Pointless asking ‘Who’s the fairest? –
More bloody likely, 'Who’s the queerest? ’
Now look, I paid a big bucks for thee,
So why can’t you be nice to me?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who’s the fairest of them all?
Me, you say? Ah, that's better –
Mirror, mirror, bloody fibber!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Mirror mirror bloody fibber
Mirror mirror mirror ribber
Mirror mirror mirror mirror
Mirror mirror make me slimmer
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Hey Mr. Millionaire (live)
Went down across that borderline
Down in the planet Mexico.
Bought some tequila big sack o whack.
I let go the Peso; I couldnt get back.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Millionaire!
Can you loan this poor-boy a dime?
Walking and crossing the border line
Way on the planet London.
Bought a Rolls Royce and a Jaguar;
It DOES in fact matter how rich you are.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Can you loan this poor-boy a dime?
I moved on across that borderline
Deep on the planet Louisiana.
Threw some dice it was oh, so nice,
But it left me eatin red beans & rice.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Could you loan this poor-boy a dime?
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Loan this poor-boy a dime.
Loan this poor-boy a dime.
Turn yourself into a BANKER!
He-e-ey! [He-e-ey!]
He-e-ey! [He-e-ey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!]
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wall That I See
always this wall
this wall, always, this,
wall, always
i see, and face, and
grasp, and feel
with my palms, and touch
with my fingers
never love it
but i am in here surrounded
always, by this, wall,
this, wall, this wall,
always, i dream of
overcoming this, wall
this height,
i dream of ladders,
and tall feet, and i always,
look beyond this,
this wall, this.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poverty
Tears filled in the eyes, as a compare the rich with the poor;
Palatial buildings laugh at the small cottages of the poor.
With scanty income the poor feeds the children, contents their desire;
Life of poor is filled with fear.
O god, in thy kingdom, partiality reigns hither, thither;
Poor becomes poorer with thy desire.
Corruption is rampant among the officers;
Exploiting junior employees' property they content their desire.
O god! Thy Earth is wonder;
Poor people roam hither, thither;
With their little income they content their desire.
On Earth they are cursed creatures.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Poverty Vavroovahana Patra
Tears filled in the eyes, as I compare the rich with the poor;
Palatial buildings laugh at the small cottages of the poor.
With scanty income the poor feeds the children, contents their desire;
Life of poor is filled with fear.
O god, in thy kingdom, partiality reigns hither, thither;
Poor becomes poorer with thy desire.
Corruption is rampant among the officers;
Exploiting junior employees' property they content their desire.
O god! Thy Earth is a wonder;
Poor people roam hither, thither.
With their little income they content their desire.
On Earth they are cursed creatures.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Ball Of Kerrymuir
Four-and-twenty virgins come down from Inverness,
And when the Ball was over, there were four-and-twenty less,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all..
There was doin' in the parlor, there was doin' on the stones,
But ya couldn't a hear the music for the wheezin' and the groans,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
The undertaker, he was there, all wrapped up in a shroud,
Swingin' from the chandelier, and peein' on the crowd,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
The village cripple, he was there, ah he could not do much,
So he lined the ladies against the wall, and he did 'em with his crutch,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
Miss Mary McPherson was standin' way up front,
Some posies in her hand, and a carrot in her(unintelligible mumble),
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
The Village postman, he was there, but the poor man had the pox,
He could not do the lassies, so he did the letter box,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
The Village Magician, he was there, he gave us all a laugh,
He pulled his foreskin over his head, and he vanished up his ass,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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