Be not a repellent
Be not a begging bowl,
Not an ungrateful dog,
Nor selfish so as to retain
The people around you.
17.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Observations
People are becoming more selfish
Than ever
People are so ungrateful
In this world
People have no respect for others
And they treat others very badly
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Selfish
I am selfish
You are selfish
He is selfish
She is selfish
We all are selfish
To a lesser or a
Greater degree...
Let's not
Stay in denial.
Let's accept
Our selfishness
So that if people
Are selfish to us,
It hurts us less.
(Poem themed on Acceptance)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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Below a beggar
Don’t stand begging for things
Like of which you have got.
Don’t stand begging for things
Like of which you yourself could earn.
Don’t stand begging for things
Like of which you can live without.
Should you lower yourself
Below a beggar before a giver?
11.07.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Selfishness
To grow crops, rear cattle,
Keep hives and run poultry
Aren’t branded as selfish.
To do so on fellow men
Is branded as selfish.
Nothing is immoral
When with other than men.
19.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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More Than Myself
Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
a certain sense of order there;
something worth learning
in that narrow diary of my mind,
in the commonplaces of the asylum
where the cracked mirror
or my own selfish death
outstared me . . .
I tapped my own head;
it was glass, an inverted bowl.
It's small thing
to rage inside your own bowl.
At first it was private.
Then it was more than myself.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Only when
Everyone, a co born or a friend
Would turn ungrateful and
Only when is the matter
And yet you experiment it.
28.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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ET Came To Breakfast (Fun Poem 10)
My breakfast was going snap, crackle and pop,
when suddenly in the chair opposite something went plop.
I looked across the table and was astonished to see,
a little green man looking at me.
I blinked a couple of times,
even pinched myself to make sure it was real.
He was, you can believe,
and my breakfast he was trying to steal.
We pulled at the bowl,
no one getting the upper hand,
and then he stuck his finger in the bowl,
and sucked out the blinking lot,
milk and my snap, crackle and pop.
The moral of this story.
If a little green man comes to breakfast,
Get an extra bowl.
28 April 2007
poem by David Harris
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None More Selfish Than I
Some humans are such selfish creatures and none more selfish than I
The World revolves around me and praise of self I do enjoy
Some call it self survival or call it what you may
And meanwhile people dying of hunger every day.
I've never known what it feels like to be hungry or known of hunger pain
Yet of my poor existence I often do complain
So many poor and oppressed people would envy one like me
It surely can be a relative thing when one talks of poverty.
I meet so many selfish people who for themselves only care
Of the sufferings of others they don't even seem to care
As well as self centred they are ignorant and without thinking they say
That poverty is self inflicted in the World of today.
I may be a selfish bugger but in that I'm not alone
And I am one not without sin so I can't cast the stone
I feel that the World revolves around me how selfish can one be
And only the best of people are blessed with the gift of empathy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Begging You
Im begging you,
Im begging you.
The fly on the coachwheel told me that he got it
And he knew what to do with it,
Everybody saw it, saw the dust that he made
King bee in a frenzy, ready to blow, got the horn good to go wait
Oh, his stings all gone, now hes begging you, begging you
Here is a warning, the sky will divide
Since I took off the lid, theres nowhere to hide
Now Im begging you, Im begging you
This is a mystery not to be solved
But be minded, like minded, Im gone
Still Im with you, Im begging you, Im begging you
Give it over, give it over
Give it over, give it begging you
Give it over, give it over
Give it over, yeah Im begging you, Im begging you
Weigh it and say it, is it all in a name
Does it call you or maul you and drive you insane
Can it make you remember, time is in place
Now Im begging you, Im begging you
The fly on the coachwheel told me that he got it
And he knew what to do with it
Everybody saw it, saw the dust that he made
Make all the dust that you can, make all the dust that you can
King bee in a frenzy ready to blow
song performed by by Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greediness
A begging bowl is a filling bowl.
On its filling too, it tends to beg.
A grabbing grab is a possessing grab.
On its possessing too, it tends to grab.
Greediness is not the effect of the emptiness.
05.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Boots of Life
They look different but act the same,
Highlands of old to streets of gold,
African sunset, red mists of pain,
Fear fills the horizon,
Tears they cleanse the soul,
Begging doesn't fill the bowl,
Still we hold on to love.
The time has come,
They will no longer beat the drum,
It is too late for them to run,
Naked they stand as we beat the drum,
They hung you up,
Left you with nothing,
I was gone,
You were strong, but not for long,
They told you the truth, too late,
You carry the scars in your heart,
Emotion lays waste to love,
My heart cries for the Dove,
Tears they cleanse the soul,
Begging doesn't fill the bowl,
Still we hold on to love.
April 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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Be Greatful
Be grateful to your creator
For he is your maker
Ungratefulness comes from
Greediness and selfishness
Ungrateful people are evil
It is the act of the devil
Be grateful
Instead of being scornful
Ungrateful people
Hate to show appreciation
For their life
Is full of illusion
Be grateful to your creator
For he is your maker
poem by Matt Ancient
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start of day
the beggar throws some coins
into own begging bowl
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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It is your fate
Children might turn ungrateful
And parents are orphaned.
By having no children, can
We alter the status? No.
31.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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You form a half
Brothers and sisters are selfish.
Sons and daughters are ungrateful.
Don’t lament. Their nature a half
And yours a half are the cause.
22.05.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Begging You
I'm begging you
I'm begging you
The fly on the coachwheel told me that he got it
And he knew what to do with it everybody saw it
Saw the dust that he made
King bee in a frenzy ready to blow
Got the horn good to go wait
Oh his sting's all gone
Now he's begging you
Begging you
Here is a warning the sky will divide
Since I took of the lid
Now there's nowhere to hide
Now I'm belling you
I'm begging you
This is a mystery not to be solved
but be minded like minded
I'm gone still I'm with you
I'm begging you
I'm begging you
Give it over give it over
Give it over give it over
Yeah I'm begging you
I'm begging you
Give it over give it over
Give it over give it over
Yeah I'm begging you
I'm begging you
Weigh it and say it
Is it all in a name
Does it call you or maul you
And drive you insane
Can it make you remember time is a place
Now I'm belling you
I'm begging you
The fly on the coachwheel told me that he got it
And he knew what to do with it everybody saw it
Saw the dust that he made
Make all the dust that you can
Make all the dust that you can
King bee in a frenzy ready to blow
song performed by by The Stone Roses from Second Coming
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If Life Is A Bowl Of Cherries (Fun Poem 45)
If life a bowl of cherries
why do I always end up with the pips?
Why is it on a bright and sunny day
does it always rain on me?
Why is it when I go to climb a ladder
the one I get has no rungs?
I once had a car
that I used to like to drive,
others liked to drive it too
and they nicked it three times.
We have all heard
of the dive dropping birds,
well they use my car
to do their practicing on.
My world is so upside down
that I never know if
I’m coming or going,
nor where I’ve been.
So the next time you pass
a bowl of cherries
could you please leave a couple for me?
The pips are rather hard
and the stick in my teeth.
14 November 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Spending Of Their Time
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives.
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
Hopefully,
They will come to realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
No one can be all-knowing,
If one has never been alone.
Or have been on their own...
To know the true meaning of self-evaluation.
Or value emotional devastation.
If one has not,
Opened up that lock.
If no one takes the time to stop,
To take 'inventory' of their stock...
That seems for them to never come,
With a dropping of a blocking...
That stuns and shocks.
They will never know,
How this affects and hurts one so!
Those me-me, I-I activities...
Isolates the mind.
Sickens the body.
And darkens a lost soul.
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives...
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
And...
In time,
When they are left confined...
Behind.
With no one concerned...
What it is in their lives,
Or on their minds.
They will come to learn to yearn!
In the spending of,
Their time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Voice The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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