Beggarliness
The cats march on to the backyard
Of my house and leave their kitten,
taking it for a safe haven.
When I come upon a dog
lying beside the walls of the school,
with its pups rolling over it,
I buy biscuits from a shop
and feed them with grace.
When the rats pluck up courage
to hold jamborees in the porch,
I don’t beat them or drive them out
fearing to be infected with rat-fever.
But I put coleslaw for them to eat.
When little lamps jump into my office room,
and let down their balls of dung,
I smile, lift them up and give them
to the girls of lower classes.
When I see beggars lame or blind,
I touch the coins in my pocket
but hesitate to give them;
as most of them tell tales of lies.
They get freebies from the Government
yet their list swells in trains and public places.
Some who run private homes to orphans
send the inmates to beg in streets
But they beg from cinestars and the rich
with a printed receipt book in hand.
The old ones plead starvation
and go on cheating pliable public.
Some ladies and the differently -abled
roam to beg with letters in trains and buses.
Some criminals appeal for alms with appalling faces.
Terrorists too beg from the rich and cinestars
and demand donations without giving receipts.
Fake sages and seers receive funds from abroad
to frustrate the addicts from drugs
and the men and women garbless to meditate in halls.
When the beggars blockmail me
and curse me to have a dog’s life,
how can I purse my lips and refuse alms?
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Related quotes
Lord Buddha begged.
The society has more thieves than beggars.
In a way, beggars are better than thieves.
They beg but steal not and get but usurp not.
Mortgaging their ego, they are begging.
It is easy to steal but hard to beg.
Give or not, don’t treat beggars with contempt.
Do treat them at par while you give them alms.
Feel elated while you offer them alms.
While giving, dispel their humiliation.
Lord Buddha too led His life as a beggar.
19.10.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Theme From The City Of Beggars
Free the beggars from poverty today
Free the beggars from the slam today
Free the beggars from slave labour
Give the beggars some hope today
Put a smile on the beggars face
The beggars are starving today
So go ahead and feed the beggars some bread and water
Because that is better than nothing
Give the beggars the same right
That the rich got
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Who is a beggar and who is not
Take your coin, I am no beggar
In our country
Beggars are less uncommon
They are there anywhere
Except
Cemeteries
Burial ground and
Cremation yard
They beg you so pathetically
That you are forced to dropp a coin
Pavements invariably
Irrespective of the city
House beggars
You can make out them
By the way they look
Women beg
Pointing to us the little child
They carry on their waist
Old ladies too beg
And they station themselves
Against you in your path
Making it difficult for you
To step ahead further
While you are on a wait
Either bus stop
Rail station
Park or beach
Some one or the other appear before you
Begging
Truly speaking
It hurts me to turn away someone
Asking for alms
Without getting them something
Some hold the view
That they need not help beggars
As they are not the one
Who made beggars beg
Begging should be discouraged
And to do that
Beggars should not be helped
Is some others’ view point
I am not quite sure
Whether to help beggars or not
I normally dropp a coin of least denomination
In the begging bowl or in the opened up palms of a beggar
Provided I have the coin
If I do not have a coin to part with
Or if I do not have the mind to help
I muster the strength
To tell the beggar
That I have no changes to spare
This morning
I was rushing to the office
After getting down from the bus
I saw a middle aged male
Who was rolling down on the tar topped road
Sitting on roller-fixed wooden plank
Pushing with the help of has hands
It appeared he had no legs
I decided to help him with a coin
As I got nearer
I came to understand that he was polio affected
Both his legs becoming non functional
Of late, thin and feeble
I ran my hand through my left pant pocket
Got hold of a coin of a better denomination
Than the one I normally prefer to drop
Stood by his side
As he was enjoying a puff of a lighted cigarette
On his lips
He did not lift his face
Having waited for some seconds
I decided to dropp that coin
I did the same
And started going towards office
I heard the rolling of wheels
When I looked back
The person on the wheel-fixed plank
Pointed his right index finger
Towards the dropped coin
About four metres on the backside
And said curtly
Take your coin
I am no beggar
As I reached the spot
And picked up the coin
I felt too small of me
And in fact, beg for the knowledge
As to know
Who is a beggar and who is not
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Beggar To Mab, The Fairy Queen
Please your Grace, from out your store
Give an alms to one that's poor,
That your mickle may have more.
Black I'm grown for want of meat,
Give me then an ant to eat,
Or the cleft ear of a mouse
Over-sour'd in drink of souce;
Or, sweet lady, reach to me
The abdomen of a bee;
Or commend a cricket's hip,
Or his huckson, to my scrip;
Give for bread, a little bit
Of a pease that 'gins to chit,
And my full thanks take for it.
Flour of fuz-balls, that's too good
For a man in needy-hood;
But the meal of mill-dust can
Well content a craving man;
Any orts the elves refuse
Well will serve the beggar's use.
But if this may seem too much
For an alms, then give me such
Little bits that nestle there
In the pris'ner's pannier.
So a blessing light upon
You, and mighty Oberon;
That your plenty last till when
I return your alms again.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Train No: 6009
Mumbai Mail is a jail
causing me to pass through terrible ordeals
station by every small station,
where its hooting woke no one.
As if to bail me out of my strain
an old money lender with his wife
got in and sat opposite at Wadi.
Snacks galore!
Plate after plate
they were emptying
and driving away the beggars
by waving their hands,
when their harsh words
failed to keep them at bay.
In two, three places
they went out, gave sweet packets
to their kin who touched their feet
and blessed them by snuggling them close.
Poor women with babies,
children singing and dancng,
boys and girls cleaning the coach,
the flesh starved skeletons,
buffeted by illness,
the physically and mentally challenged……
Nobody got a coin or a measly food from them.
Giving alms might be a drain on their resources.
and a stain on their palms.
To cause a flutter in their hearts,
I slid down some coins
in the hands of the misfortune.
But the stubborn man
guided all the beggars towards me.
They dropped coins of high value
into the rivers Krishna and the Tungabadra
murmuring the name of some god.
But their coins didn’t slip down
into the river of suffering humanity.
-----------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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City Of Beggars
The sky is always blue in the city of beggars
There is not much green in the city of beggars
There are buildings being built so fast in the city of beggars
In every corner that you encounter
The city of beggars are growing so fast
And in the city of beggars lives 30 million people
The air is not that good in the city of beggars
Because of the factories and the cars
The city of beggars never sleep
The noise goes on 24 hours a day
It is not safe to walk in the street of beggars
Because you can get robbed and killed at any time of the night or day
The traffic is chaotic in the city of beggars
Thanks God there is no snow in the city of beggars
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Give them a net, than a fish
feeling the gap is not sheltering the path
for in the floor, slippery is what it call, with no
exemption, everybody has to be ready
what does a man profit, when he earned is
not in his pocket, all he eats is only for his
bucket, where in the stomach i know, it will
just go
have pity in my strength, my worn out body is
all ready, only my toe wants to be busy, if you
give anything that is for free
why you always insist to receive, when the net
i give is for everybody, to feed the whole family
lies on me, then let be me
good to share with them your net, in the deep
blue water we will meet, let your day be with
everybody in the sea, where fish swims night
and day
in my country, fish is always in the table, net is
in the sea shore, where no fishers ever call, that's
what makes us poor, where the government is
the door, and every family knocks in the floor
now our vision is something to find, for other it
will be find, our people, looks up the sky, for
another night will fall, with hungry mind and soul
are weak in the alms always it take
the church made a steps, teach them not to call
for only beggars may ask, in my country i am gone
and in my face iam one... then teach me how to fish
iam ready
poem by Antonio Liao
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Girls Get The Bass In The Back (feat. Bounty Killer) (Hey Baby Remix)
Hey baby, baby (4x)
All the boys say
Hey, hey... (2x)
All the boys say (3x)
Hey, hey... (2x)
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
I'm the kind of girl
That hangs with the guys
Like a fly in the wall
With my secret eyes
Taking it in
Try to be feminine
With my make-up bag
Watching all the sin
Misfit, I sit
Lit up, wicked
Everybody is surrounded by the girls
With the tank tops and the flirty words
I'm just sipping on chamomile
I'm watching boys and girls and their sex appeal
With a stranger in my face who says he knows my mom
And went to my high school
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, baby
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Boys say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
All the boys get the girls in the back
I'm the one they feed upon
Give a bit a star is born
And if you have enough you'll get the pass
And you can tell your friends how you made it back
No matter what they say I'm still the same
Somehow everybody knows my name
And all the girls wanna get with the boys
And the boys really like it
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, baby
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, baby
hey, hey... (4x)
All the boys say (3x)
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Boys say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
All the boys get the girls in the back
Jum, jum, jum, jum
Jump on the stage
Jump
Jump on the stage
Jump
Jump on the stage cause we going crazy
Afterward myself and one of them gorgeous ladies
There is no need to be actin' shady
C'mon baby, hey, hey baby
When you rock your hips you know that it amazes me
Got me off the hook and nutting else don't phase me
Can you be my one and only sunshine lady
If no, maybe, hey baby
Hey, hey... (4x)
I'm just sipping on chamomile
I'm watching boys and girls and their sex appeal
With a stranger in my face who says he knows my mom
And went to my high school
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, baby
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Boys say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
All the boys get the girls in the back
song performed by by No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trains
Here I am at the end of the day
With a cup of cold coffee
From the station buffet.
On trains, on trains I seem
To spend my life on trains.
See the blue suit banker in the ticket line.
Got an evening standard with playboy
Hidden behind.
On trains, on trains he seems
To spend his life on trains.
Time after time.
Was I just dreaming?
Did I help you aboard?
Full passenger service ---
Let me help with the door.
Sit down take the weight off your feet.
Theres a train full of people Id like
You to meet.
On trains, on trains we love
To spend our lives on trains.
Join the secret world of trains.
Feel the pleasure. touch the pain.
Drift into yesterday.
Once and again
I was just thinking.
We could meet sometime
On the 17.30 where
I usually find
My friends at the end of the day.
May we pay your fare, lady?
We should like you to stay
In our train. on trains ---
Youll have to spend your life
On trains.
I hear theres an office party on the 18.05.
Youll be home for christmas if they
Take you alive from the train.
Those trains, we have to spend our lives
On trains.
Once and again
I was just thinking.
We could meet any time
On number two platform
Where I usually find
My friends at the end of the day.
On trains, trains, trains.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tax
Tax is for the welfare of the masses
That’s why more tax should levied
Upon the rich than the poor
In such a manner
So that a desired balance is maintained.
There should be no filthy rich
In a poor country
So the government should impose tax
On this people couple of times more
Than the ordinary rich.
Education tax, poverty elimination tax
And tax to rehabilitate the beggars
Can be imposed on the very rich.
The government must go for moderate tax
For the poor people
And they should not slaughter the hen
That lays egg of gold.
The Muslims should give tax properly
Since it is obligatory for them
So in a Muslim country
The government should highlight this
In order to increase revenue.
poem by Asif Andalib
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If we allow public funds to be used to support our relatively benign, morally grounded schools, we will have to allow those public funds to be used for any type of private school.
quote by Jonathan Kozol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moolah
Some earn it, some steal it,
some lust for it like muff.
Others work hard for hours
earning barely enough.
The lucky, with Trust funds,
have got it to spare.
Others anxiously hope
Grandma’s will named them heir.
Some guys on the Street
Take risks with brass balls.
Then live like royal dukes
in baronial halls.
In the evenings some Ladies
Will stroll on the street
Accepting donations
for sausage relief.
The government types
Have got it the best
They skim off the top
And distribute the rest.
These green little rectangles
With the Presidents’ faces-
They help us keep score
And keep us all in our places.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Immigrant Muslims and the Indian Mongoloids
When the Muslims crowd around and blockmail,
threat calls and panic waves mail,
the mongoloids head home
where our AIDS-hit army roam
to receive alms and in their duty fail.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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I know that a man who shows me his wealth is like the beggar who shows me his poverty; they are both looking for alms from me, the rich man for the alms of my envy, the poor man for the alms of my guilt.
TO Mr.T.W.
PREGNANT again with th' old twins, Hope and Fear,
Oft have I asked for thee, both how and where
Thou wert ; and what my hopes of letters were ;
As in our streets sly beggars narrowly
Watch motions of the giver's hand or eye,
And evermore conceive some hope thereby.
And now thy alms is given, thy letter's read,
The body risen again, the which was dead,
And thy poor starveling bountifully fed.
After this banquet my soul doth say grace,
And praise thee for 't, and zealously embrace
Thy love, though I think thy love in this case
To be as gluttons, which say 'midst their meat,
They love that best of which they most do eat.
poem by John Donne
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Give Me Your Hand
Give me your hand
Some had request a life
Some a heart some a wife
But me, give me your hand
Some had desire your whole
Some your smile others your soul
But as for me give me your hand
Some will plead to stare at your beauty
Others will die to match your quality
But me, give me your hand
Some had grace the day you will nurce their seeds
Some had vow to grant your needs
As for me, give me your hand
I have not a single word to wisper
But my gentle hand is there to offer
So please give me your hand
I will wash it with my blood
And wipe it with bliss from God
You just give me your hand
I have nothing to lift you above
But I will raise your hand with love
Give me your hand
Let us cross huddles with a solmn sing
While I slot the propose ring
Will you give me your hand?
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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Transport.
I thought I would write about, how we get about,
The various kinds of transport we see, when we are out;
It could be trains, or cars, buses, and trucks we see too,
So let me write a poem, maybe of interest to some of you.
Firstly I will write about, planes we see in the sky,
Small little 2 seaters, some may use to parachute, they'll try;
Next, is the helicopter, look like an insect flying so high,
And there are jets, of all kinds, but you can't see them fly.
Next. Is the trains, with large engines travelling along,
Then there's the small trains fixing the rails where they belong;
And what about the commuter trains, who take people everywhere,
Some in Sydney two levels, and people need to use the stair.
Now I come to trucks, all sizes and shapes and color,
Rubbish, milk, food trucks, then the giant coal mine ones with an odor;
There's the postal, and the fire truck, just too many to name,
But can't forget those council trucks, taking animals, that's a shame.
So what about buses and taxis, who come in handy,
When there is no trains to use, that's from city to dandy;
There are the usual cabs, and the maxi taxi,
So what a ride from anywhere in the coaches, but not for me.
The best sort of transport for disabled like me,
Is the motorised chair or scooter for us to get about,
But to travel to anywhere buses leave us out.
And so I'm glad there are scooters, and that makes me happy.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Hope Is An Open Window
(christopher ward/tim tickner/diana ross)
Are we not more than hunger and music
Are we not more than harlequins and horns
Are we not more than color and drums
Are we not more than anger and dance
Give me courage so I can spread it over my face and mouth
Give me courage, give me courage
Give me courage, give me courage
I walk these city streets see the people there
Look into the eyes of quiet despair
And the faces tell a story that words never can
And it falls to everyone of us to try and understand
Out of kindness
One act of grace makes the world we walk a better place
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
We build walls of suspicion with bars of fears
Tell ourselves well be safe in here
I know more brings us together
Than keeps up apart
First we got to tear down these walls within our hearts
We might be strangers, we can be friends
You and I we both need to let somebody in
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
Give me courage so I can spread over my face and mouth
We are secret rivers with shaking hips and crests
Come awake in our thunder so that our eyes can see behind trees
Give me courage so I can spread over my face and mouth
Give me courage, give me courage
Give me courage, give me courage
Hope is an open window
Loves an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
Gotta be there for each other
Is what we sent here for
Through an open window
We can find a way
To love one another
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Balm For The Soul
A non smoking flight to, nowhere
Ready to take off
Last exit before breakdown
Send a smile back from above
Im not looking for salvation
Im not waiting for realease
Give me balm for the soul
No giveaway and no donations
You know what I want so, please
Give me balm for the soul
Replace me with a drum machine
While hip hypocrits keep the lyrics clean
Please no risk just hesitate
And march on with the loveparade
Chorus
How are you? oh thanx Im fine.
I think that I just left in time
Jump off the train brings fast relief,
If you never want to be
A well payed clown on mtv
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Crusader Against Corruption
The politicians are mindless
about the opprobrium heaped on them
for their misdeeds and corruption.
Politics is an open-sesame
to criminals and the cunning
for fulfilling their ambitions.
An overdose of bribes has made
public life servile and squalid.
When the courts order to attach their wealth
and detain them in prison, they make a fun of it.
' God has already ordered a one-two punch to me
to give my wealth to the poor
and go to jail for a public cause', they say.
The votes of people with nous
don't decide the winners in these obscene elections.
The votes of the illiterates and the votes
clicked in stealth choose the victors.
When the government is gripped in the hands
of the opportunists of parties one after the other,
the rich buy the posts of officers in hidden auctions.
The middle class bargain for clerical jobs.
The sons of the poor join the gangsters and smugglers
who run a parallel government, colluding with
the politicians who live for uplifting the poor.
The poor women need to trade in open market or the nets.
The people are ossified to stretch hands
to grab the freebies and graft, and sell their votes.
Ouch! why this Anna Hazare, the last surviving crusader,
goes on an outdated fast dreaming for a change?
He can't provoke a public outcry against corruption
with the outfits of graduates and tottering old men.
Will his message reach the illiterate ocean in rural hamlets
when the T.V. channels are owned by the demagogues?
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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