There Is No Such Thing as Wickedness Only with the Rich Ones...
once he pitied the poor
wanted to take them all from
poverty
like weeds from a garden
where he dream
only of flowers
then he mingled with them
lived with them
immersed in them
only to find out that they are
no less different
than him
they are kind
and must be understood
beyond that
kindness
at some point
as in any other case
familiarity breeds contempt
and he becomes
like anyone of them
suspicious, insecure,
greedy, and always
discontented
and they rob him
and killed him and he was
not able to tell
what was it that he hated
with the poor
i didn't know too.
i don't want to be one
neither do i wish to live with any one of them
nor immerse myself some more
into such a distress
we all have our share
of the chunks of this valley of
tears
again that is fair enough
rich or poor
same human weaknesses are there
this avarice, this greed
and to some extent
this capacity to go beyond all these
in due time
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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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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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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A New And A Better World
A new and a better World I may not live to see
But the time is not far distant when all people will live free
Of oppressive regimes and terrorism and greed and poverty
For all of those poor victims of capitalism who live in penury.
A new and better World may be a century away
And I for one will not be around for to celebrate that day
And though one hundred years may seem far off in time not a lengthy span
Only the life time after all of one long lived woman or man.
We may not be that far away in time when ageing people will recall
We never thought we'd live to see the day of a fair go for all
When people are not discriminated against due to their religion or race
And in human society for poverty and oppression there isn't any place.
A new and a far better World for me will come too late
For time is ever ticking and the reaper for me wait
But the day is not that distant when people in wars or of hunger will not die
And a fair go is something that all people will enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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In A Fair World
I cannot empathize with the poor since I'm not in poverty
And I can only imagine how miserable life must be
For those who go to sleep hungry they live with death each day
In a fair World this would not be it would be fair to say.
In a fair World this would not be but all in life's not fair
And thousands are in poverty for every millionaire
In third World Countries every year millions of hunger die
The crops don't grow in rain starved lands, the parched earth far too dry.
In a fair World there would be enough food to go around
And not one hungry person in the whole World to be found
But there is only hunger where poverty reside
And the gap between the haves and have nots has never been so wide.
In a fair World there would not be want and need and very little crime
But the social gap keeps widening despite the march of time
And I who have never lived in the slums or in a third World Land
What it feels like to be really poor could never understand.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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To Be The Best You Can Be Ought To Be Good Enough
There is good in most people and some in their ways kind
And amongst the egotistical greatness is a state of mind
And some very famous people towards humility inclined
But a truly perfect human being in the World you will not find
But to live as a good person is the best you can wish to be
Though with that I feel certain many would disagree
Millions daydream of wealth and fame and it would seem to me
That you will not find many people for to embrace poverty
But to be the best you can be ought to be good enough
In a Human World where millions are hungry, poor and homeless and living and sleeping rough
Always be kind to others and help those of help in need
One of the main causes of human poverty has to be human greed
Life is not an Earthly Paradise and many do live it tough
But to be the best you can be ought to be good enough.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Get Rid Of
Rid the Human World of rank and class distinction than those we need something more fair
Get rid of the titles of the Sirs and Madams and tax to the hilt every millionaire and billionaire
And strive for to alleviate the pain of poverty the poverty afflicting the poor
I disagree with those who say that poverty is like an incurable disease since for poverty there is a cure.
Get rid of Monarchies and the snobbery that goes with them privilege by right of birth does seem wrong
You poet there's a place for you in this only laud the unsung in your song
And with your pen try to drag down those tall poppies who seek to conquer and divide
The poor need you more than the rich do they need one like you on their side.
Get rid of those big bureaucracies that only serve the wealthy and privileged few
And promote the spirit of egalitarianism and give everybody their due
If in death all people are equal why not they be equal in life
All I see are greed and corruption in a World where rank and class distinction are rife.
Get rid of all war-men and terrorists because of them far too many have died
Our dream of an Earthly Utopia by these sort of people destroyed
We all were born naked and helpless and before we walked we learned how to crawl
And promote the things that unite us the right to a fair go for all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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That Millions Do Live In Poverty
That millions do live in poverty should never be seen as okay
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps getting bigger by the day
Everyone should have the chance to live happy a home to live in and enough for to eat
There never should be slums and ghettos and never a poverty street,
That millions are born to live in poverty and to end their hard lives in despair
Only tells us if there's a god that god favours the wealthy and that god is not very fair
To leave millions homeless and dying of malnutrition the people condemned to die poor and young
In the refugee camps of the World live the displaced, the poor and unsung,
In the age of celebrity worship the poor in millions multiply
Why millions are destined to be poor don't ask me I wouldn't know why
Even in the World's wealthiest Countries poor people are no longer rare
And millions and millions of have nots in the bigger World out there
And millions are dying of hunger and millions are doing it tough
And millions are displaced and homeless and as refugees living it rough.
poem by Francis Duggan
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White Collar Crimes
social pathology;
poor are not prone
more to criminal
behavior honest
poor are bedrock
of moral society;
career options
notorious fleeting
crime benefits
white collar crimes
fancy lawyers
buy rich client
freedom Bell Curve
merry propaganda
Frankensteinism
blocks sewer pipes
H&M IQ thesis
non-white poor
discrimination
rhetoric evolved
to any race poor
laid off victim poor
stolen their houses
is not yet enough
greedy robber baron
rich must also steal
a hard poor workers
honour pride dignity
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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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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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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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No Access To Fast Food, Branded Clothes And
The creation of nations,
that have passion,
for money and power,
is the absolute poverty.
Not having the access,
to shelter, food and clothing,
to have a healthy living.
Fifteen percent Americans,
fall under poverty line,
and they earn,
less than,
ONLY 22K American dollar,
per year.
In other parts of the world,
people live,
in appropriate poverty,
and they live on,
2 dollars a day,
six hundred dollars a year,
five people can eat,
have shelter and simple clothing,
still they are healthy.
slim and fit.
Europeans are clever,
to make the people to believe,
that they are poor,
earning only 800 Euro a month,
Which is above,
the average annual income,
of many developing nations,
where people have,
no access to any wealth and health.
All of us stay in the same earth,
but the value of properties,
and the rental acquired,
through the properties,
differ substantially.
Politicians of the poor nations,
have abysmal knowledge on economics.
To be a rich nation,
we should have values,
but these clowns are short sighted,
to look at the value,
of their own properties!
Do not say that they are poor,
because the term poor itself,
will be ashamed,
for using its credibility,
for wrong purpose.
Please do not call them poor,
when the nations are able to provide them,
the food, shelter and health care.
Find a suitable word,
and leave the poor alone,
who have no access,
to any of these comforts on their own,
and their nations,
are unable to provide them,
the access to the comfort.
Reason for writing this poem.
The feelings of the poor are the same through out the world, irrespective of the countries that they are staying, but the proper definition for poverty should be clarified before classifying the people as poor, which means the poor of one country may be considered as the rich in another country. Then what is the real meaning for poverty?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Need And The Greed
Need is a desire; greed is a desire.
Desires denied, sufferings surface.
Need is met at ease but not the greed
Which is boundless with sufferings profound.
Need and greed aren’t in water tight cells.
Need might restrict to physical wants.
Greed is for ego’s gratification.
Possessiveness is the sign of the greed.
To earn by wrongful means is from greed.
To exploit and hoard is an act of greed.
To garner and flaunt all you have is greed.
Greedless, though penny-less, you’re loveable.
To sedate the pride is to tame the greed.
To kindle the pride is to fuel the greed.
Having got money, power and possession,
As the result of greed, you will lose peace.
Remove the greed; jealousy is gone.
Remove the greed; no feeling of revenge.
Hail the poor and condemn the greedy.
Then the tendency to grow rich will wane.
Live simple; live humble; then need is less.
Be proud to own a bicycle, not a car.
Value one who owns a bicycle, not a car.
You will have saved energy and the nature.
Don’t embrace comforts, which will weaken you.
Don’t enthuse with ego, which will make loss big.
Unlike the cheat, being poor is not a shame.
Less wants; less sufferings, more happiness.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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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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