Beggar is close to God
Begging for something is a cut
That is made at the root of your ego.
Begging for food is the deepest cut.
A monk goes begging for food,
Where he feels pride, not humiliation.
A beggar knocks the door for food,
Cursing his fate, tasting the humiliation.
Ego is active in monk, dead in beggar.
Who will get quick salvation?
04.11.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
Monks will have three begging bowls for their food: one for water, one for liquid food, one for dry food.
quote by Satish Kumar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beggar
The thought of great social solitude,
The sight of everyone having an attitude,
Being the neglected in the maltittude,
The pity viewed in verisimilitude,
The life of a beggar
His clothes torn and stomarch empty,
Always dancing to their tune,
Exploited and greatly tortured,
His presence mean nothing to them,
Their presence mean everything to him
He walks door to door for livelihood,
They dont walk to him to give life,
He is seeking life everyday,
Yet life does not seek him even one day
The beggar with rolling tears
Life like that of a beggar,
Love like that of a life,
Begging for the conditional love,
Do I have to beg your love?
Like the beggar beg for life,
My determinism flashes through,
Im breaking the steel bars my love,
Loosening the metalic chains off,
Love is love, not to be begged for,
Love is love, not to use each other,
Love is love, no need for persuation,
For so long it is love,
I will never be begging anymore,
Such love will be deceit,
Such truth will be fake,
And such commitment will be futile
Such a lover will be like a beggar,
Such a beloved will be like a lifegiver,
And such their love will be a shame
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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The Reproof
Mamma heard me with scorn and pride
A wretched beggar-boy deride.
'Do you not know,' said I, 'how mean
It is to be thus begging seen?
If for a week I were not fed,
I'm sure I would not beg my bread.'
And then away she saw me stalk
With a most self-important walk.
But meeting her upon the stairs,
All these my consequential airs
Were changed to an entreating look.
'Give me,' said I, 'the pocket-book,
Mamma, you promised I should have.'
The pocket-book to me she gave;
After reproof and counsel sage
She bade me write in the first page
This naughty action all in rhyme;
No food to have until the time,
In writing fair and neatly worded,
The unfeeling fact I had recorded.
Slow I compose, and slow I write;
And now I feel keen hunger bite.
My mother's pardon I entreat,
And beg she'll give me food to eat.
Dry bread would be received with joy
By her repentant beggar-boy.
poem by Charles Lamb
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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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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Monkey In The Neighborhood....
i love that
monkey
it asks food
from me
and when given
it hides
it all inside his
mouth
tongue-in-check
if you have
seen it
and then it asks
some more
begging
like a pitiful
child
without a mother
and if begging
does not work
it charms you
with its tiny hands
its fingers
mapping for
lice
in your hair
while its tail
tickles
your armpit
you feel that
and remember
something before
when you
were once
as young & horny as
that imaginary
gazelle
it is this
begging game
that you like most
you are not
a monkey
stop it
it does not
look good for you
you lose your charm
and even the monkey
thinks
that by imitating it
you have
become detestable.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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4. Expiry Date
No food on the table
A little child cries
Her mother sits begging
With tears in her eyes
Why do they pass?
Can no one see her plight?
If she doesn’t find food
They will not eat tonight
She fought with the rats
Over garbage in bins
Cutting her fingers
On half open tins
Under the arches
Both ate what she found
They expired like the food
Passing by without sound
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Arbitrary
I am in my Honda Civic car at Haji Ali:
Boy of thirteen knocks on window screen,
But I turn away from this beggar, sure,
Not knowing how to go about it always.
In the morning however at Worli
I had asked driver to slow down
While I took out a ten rupee note
And gave it to that young beggar.
There is no difference between the two,
Both are begging by tapping on car window;
One makes my hand to open a wallet
And the other make my eyes move away.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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Beggar Of Love
Unlucky unfortunates
The poorest of the poor
Beggar of the beggars
Begging love on the roads.
Don't keep begging love
Rather give me your love, all
I shall lend it to my heart and soul
Just to plant to grow in multiple
Just to return with interest along with the principle
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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They lost their way
A beggar is nearer to God
than a Monk, ego-less.
A bonded one is nearer to God
than a master, being not possessive..
A child is nearer to God
than an erudite, unprejudiced.
The so called ones lost their way to God.
07.11.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
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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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Food is god
Food is god
for poor people...!
God is not
Only food...
Rich home
Dog is eat
Nice food...
That food is god...?
yes that also
A god...
Good food is
God...
What is good food...?
Given good health
Always good food...
So...
Non veg
Or veg...
Every good food
Is god...
Simply sit
Silentely eat food
With out hot
And cool drinks...
Food is not only
Poor's god...
With each and
Every one also
food is god...
Give respect and
Take food...
Happley too try too
Thank for god...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Be My Escape
I've given up on giving up slowly
I'm blending in so you won't even know me
Apart from this whole world that shares my fate
And this one last bullet you mention
Is my one last shot at redemption
Cause I know to live you must give your life away
And I've been housing all this doubt
And insecurity
And I've been locked inside that house
All the while you hold the key
And I've been dying to get out
And that might be the death of me
And even though there's no way of knowing
Where to go
I promise I'm going
Because
I got to get out of here
I'm stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake
I got to get out of here
And I'm begging you
I'm begging you
I'm begging you to be my escape
I've given up on doing this alone now
Cause I've failed and I'm ready to be shown how
You've told me the way, and I'm trying to get there
And this life sentence that I'm serving
I admit, that I'm every bit deserving
But the beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair
Because
I've been housing all this doubt
And insecurity
And I've been locked inside that house
All the while you hold the key
And I've been dying to get out
And that might be the death of me
And even though there's no way of knowing
Where I'm going
I promise I'm going because..
I got to get out of here
Cause I'm afraid that this complacency is something I can't shake again
I got to get out of here
And I'm begging you
I'm begging you
I'm begging you to be my escape
I am a hostage to my own humanity
Self detained and forced to live in this mess I've made
And all I'm asking is for you to do what you can with me
But I can't ask you to give what you already gave
Because I've been housing all this doubt
And insecurity
And I've been locked inside that house
All the while you hold the key
And I've been dying to get out
That might be the death of me
And even though there's no way of knowing where to go
I promise I'm going
Because
I got to get out of here
I'm stuck inside this rut I fell into by mistake
I got to get out of here
And I'm begging you
I'm begging you
I'm begging you to be my escape
I fought you
For so long
I should have let you win
Oh, how we regret those things we do
And all I
Was trying
To do was save my own skin
Oh, but so were you
So were you
song performed by by Relient K
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Jolly Beggar II
THERE was a jolly beggar, and a begging he was bound,
And he took up his quarters into a landart town.
Fa la la, etc.
He wad neither ly in barn, nor yet wad he in byre,
But in ahint the ha-door, or else afore the fire.
The beggar’s bed was made at een wi good clean straw and hay,
And in ahint the ha-door, and there the beggar lay.
raise the goodman’s dochter, and for to bar the door,
And there she saw the beggar standin i the floor.
He took the lassie in his arms and to the bed he ran,
‘O hooly, hooly wi me, sir! ye’ll waken our goodman.’
The beggar was a cunnin loon, and neer a word he spake
Until he got his turn done, syne he began to crack.
‘Is there ony dogs into this town? maiden, tell me true.’
‘And what wad ye do wi them, my hinny and my dow?’
‘They’ll rive a’ my mealpocks, and do me meikle wrang.’
‘O dool for the doing o’t! are ye the poor man?’
Then she took up the mealpocks and flang them oer the wa:
‘The d--l gae wi the mealpocks, my maidenhead and a’!
‘I took ye for some gentleman, at least the Larid of Brodie;
O dool for the doing o’t! are ye the poor bodie?’
took the lassie in his arms and gae her kisses three,
And four-and-twenty hunder merk to pay the nurice-fee.
He took a horn frae his side and blew baith loud and shrill,
And four-and-twenty belted knights came skipping oer the hill.
And he took out his little knife, loot a’ his duddies fa,
And he was the brawest gentleman that was amang them a’.
The beggar was a cliver loon and he lap shoulder height:
‘O ay for sicken quarters as I gat yesternight!’
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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