The repentance
The unfortunate one was dead in her nineties,
In utter poverty and neglects.
She had fed me with stories,
One among them was Parasakthi
Which was later copied in celluloid
By M. Karunanithi as his own.
She told it and kept me to wonder;
She had led me to an imaginary world.
A steel framer and an estranged wife,
She was dear and near to a rich
Neighbour of my kin.
She had two butterflies as daughters,
The younger one was my playmate,
Later, as a woman, once my bedmate.
The elder one, who had many fans,
Retains her glamour even now.
The old woman was dead.
I never repaid my debts;
I never aided against her poverty,
I never cared to see her
While she was ailing and failing.
How ungrateful I am!
Ungratefulness is inborn.
When I am in deathbed,
None of my fans will be by my side.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
Fans Of Written Word Verse
fans I have no fans
fans are for past dead
fans are for present posers
I am not yet spent dead
I am still one of elite verse doers
I am still among rare word writers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Poverty-II
Satiated, desiring but not having enough food to offer some, is also poverty,
Sheltered, wishing, but failing to accommodate a guest, is also poverty,
Treated, prescribed, but unable to effort better treatment is also poverty,
Clothed, requiring but can't afford sufficient to meet the need is also poverty,
Educating, meritorious, but failing to provide better education is also poverty,
Social, invited but avoiding a ceremony to avoid buying a gift is also poverty,
Celebration, aspiring but fearing expenses not celebrating is also poverty,
Friend in distress, desiring but incompetent to help a friend is also poverty,
oppressed, rights denied, deciding but failing to buy justice is also poverty,
Time elapsed but not repaying debts for not having money is also poverty.
.
.
posted on 31-07-2008
Copyright ©®2008, Palas Kumar Ray. All rights reserved.
poem by Palas kumar Ray
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Poverty In The 21st Century
It’s the 21st century
The media displays it day and night,
Poverty.
Poverty across the globe lies
Poverty cries out from the belly of little boys
Little girls, parents too
Desperately searching for food,
Shelter, clothing, for love,
Companion, for attention
Those with plenty, refuse
To amend, a world haunted by
Poverty.
Is poverty affecting the rich?
Are their poverty the same
As the poor in financial constrains?
For they, too, poverty of love
I see poverty in the learned
I see poverty in those whose
Selfish acts are destroying society.
I see poverty in all level of humanity
The world is still an imperfect place
Yet life is still beautiful, the wind
Blows, we see it not, give thanks
For what you possess, now go,
Help if you can along the way,
Help to eradicate poverty
In your surrounding, widen
Your boundary across your
Country, to nations of the world.
Help to fight poverty, now!
poem by Winston Harding
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The Beauty Conscious Neighbor Of Mine
She walks slowly to the coffin
Bends a little and has closely seen
The dead woman’s face
Her neighbor for 360 days
Then she goes back
to her Seat
beside me, and fans her hair
'Closer', she whispers to my ear
“She needs a good make-up, dear”
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet: The Magic of Poverty
A birth in poverty is luck supreme!
A death in poverty, a great blessing;
A life of poverty is rare a dream;
Achievements great, stark poverty can bring.
’Tis poverty that goads nations do feats;
’Tis poverty that stimulates scientists;
In everything, poverty, wealth just beats;
The greatest men were in poverty’s lists.
And poverty lessens our worries much;
Account to God will be much easier;
Poverty gives the saint a divine touch;
In poverty, poets can fly higher!
Poverty helps to shun worldly pleasures;
A soul in poverty, Heaven allures.
9-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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35
Some are not really causes
But just symptoms
And we misdiagnose
A sickness
For a symptom
Of the real sickness
The cause
And the effect
Are often interchanged
For instance
Is poverty the cause
Of crime
Or is poverty
Only the symptom
Of it?
For instance
Is ignorance
The cause of poverty
Or is it simply
An effect of poverty?
Or is poverty
Nothing but an effect
Of ignorance?
Or is poverty
Just an effect
Of an oppression
Of the rich
Taking much
From the poor
Who gets poorer
Everyday
Because there
Are no reforms
Coming
To solve
His poverty
His ignorance
His having to commit a crime
To survive
His poverty
His ignorance
His being a crime
Of
Society itself
who never cared
And wanted him
Who never
Instituted the much
Promised reforms?
And so you doubt
The cause and effect
The effect from cause
And if you did not mind so
Well
They may always be
Interchanged
And mistaken
For the symptoms
The conditions
That always
Are
there deceiving.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cause and effect
Some are not really causes
But just symptoms
And we misdiagnose
A sickness
For a symptom
Of the real sickness
The cause
And the effect
Are often interchanged
For instance
Is poverty the cause
Of crime
Or is poverty
Only the symptom
Of it?
For instance
Is ignorance
The cause of poverty
Or is it simply
An effect of poverty?
Or is poverty
Nothing but an effect
Of ignorance?
Or is poverty
Just an effect
Of an oppression
Of the rich
Taking much
From the poor
Who gets poorer
Everyday
Because there
Are no reforms
Coming
To solve
His poverty
His ignorance
His having to commit a crime
To survive
His poverty
His ignorance
His being a crime
Of
Society itself
who never cared
And wanted him
Who never
Instituted the much
Promised reforms?
And so you doubt
The cause and effect
The effect from cause
And if you did not mind so
Well
They may always be
Interchanged
And mistaken
For the symptoms
The conditions
That always
Are
there deceiving.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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About The Cause And The Effect
Some are not really causes
But just symptoms
And we misdiagnose
A sickness
For a symptom
Of the real sickness
The cause
And the effect
Are often interchanged
For instance
Is poverty the cause
Of crime
Or is poverty
Only the symptom
Of it?
For instance
Is ignorance
The cause of poverty
Or is it simply
An effect of poverty?
Or is poverty
Nothing but an effect
Of ignorance?
Or is poverty
Just an effect
Of an oppression
Of the rich
Taking much
From the poor
Who gets poorer
Everyday
Because there
Are no reforms
Coming
To solve
His poverty
His ignorance
His having to commit a crime
To survive
His poverty
His ignorance
His being a crime
Of
Society itself
who never cared
And wanted him
Who never
Instituted the much
Promised reforms?
And so you doubt
The cause and effect
The effect from cause
And if you did not mind so
Well
They may always be
Interchanged
And mistaken
For the symptoms
The conditions
That always
Are
there deceiving.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poverty
To get a card of
Below poverty line
I have to spot a person
Who has a link with Maoists.
Some says the head of the
Government of the state
Is the leader of maoists
Catchhold him seriously.
Who is poor and
How far in poverty
I am not here to
Measured or explain or
Eradicate poverty.
Without poverty the
Functioning of the
Government is difficult
As you know.
To get a card of
Below poverty line
Is to rebuild
The government and
You must agree
The rich how dear.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I Am Not A Woman...
I am not a woman that loves with a heart
I am not a woman that's silly and smart
I am not a woman with open wounds
I am not a woman that's more attuned
I am not a woman that you hold dear
I am not a woman that has no fear
I am not a woman that's loved or lost
I am not a woman that doesn't know the cost
I am not a woman that's hurting inside
I am not a woman that has no foolish pride
I am not a woman that can't look you in the eye
I am not a woman alone that cries
I am not a woman that's imprisoned with chains
I am not a woman that holds her will in vain
I am not a woman, or mother, or friend
or wife, or daughter, or one to depend
I am not a woman of all and more
Because I gave it away to the one I adore
what's left is all you see
Just a woman that truly believes
I have had fans make me the big picture collages of the photo books; I have had fans send me birthday cakes... sing to me on my voicemail. I have had fans flash me. I have had older fans give me their bras and underwear onstage.
quote by Puff Daddy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Bum
‘Does my bum look big in this? ’ She glared.
I gulped and stared upon the floor.
I must escape; the bedroom door
Was open. ‘Run! ’ my senses cried.
But I was numb – nerves were fried!
‘Well? ’ She scowled. I sought a subterfuge.
‘It’s absolutely huge! ’ I thought –
But how to tell her that–? A short
And blighted life she’d wreak on me.
And so to Wife, on bended knee
I prayed ‘Oh please release me from this hell! ’
She gave a yell: ‘So is it big? ’
I looked again – a mammoth rig
Was hanging down – but how to say?
An honest man would surely pay!
I stuttered ‘Err... well, yes it’s nice.’
Her voice was ice: ‘But in this? ’
I tried diversion with a kiss.
‘I love you’ also burbled out – but
I was heading for a rout.
I drew a breath. ‘Be a man! ’ I growled
Inside this howling, quaking head.
‘Well actually love, ’ and now I’m dead,
‘It’s colossal – a real whopper... ’
The bedroom shook; I couldn’t stop her.
I daren’t publish anymore…
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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21st Century Cries.
21st century cries.
World has advanced in many ways, yet poverty still cries.
Looking at this old man with tears in his eyes.
Desperately searching for food love and clothes.
We all know what it clearly indicates and shows.
I see poverty in a rich man trying to break the law.
I see poverty in a well-educated man who thinks the subject is a bore.
I see poverty in a literate man who lacks respect for poor.
I see poverty in you yes you who wants more and more.
Written by salma torrez.
copyright.
poem by Salma. Torrez
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Cinderella
Her imaginary playmate was a grown-up
In sea-coal satin. The flame-blue glances,
The wings gauzy as the membrane that the ashes
Draw over an old ember --as the mother
In a jug of cider-- were a comfort to her.
They sat by the fire and told each other stories.
"What men want..." said the godmother softly--
How she went on it is hard for a man to say.
Their eyes, on their Father, were monumental marble.
Then they smiled like two old women, bussed each other,
Said, "Gossip, gossip"; and, lapped in each other's looks,
Mirror for Mirror, drank a cup of tea.
Of cambric tea. But there is a reality
Under the good silk of the good sisters'
Good ball gowns. She knew... Hard-breasted, naked-eyed,
She pushed her silk feet into glass, and rose within
A gown of imaginary gauze. The shy prince drank
A toast to her in champagne from her slipper
And breathed, "Bewitching!" Breathed, "I am bewitched!"
--She said to her godmother, "Men!"
And, later, looking down to see her flesh
Look back up from under lace, the ashy gauze
And pulsing marble of a bridal veil,
She wished it all a widow's coal-black weeds.
A sullen wife and a reluctant mother,
She sat all day in silence by the fire.
Better, later, to stare past her sons' sons,
Her daughters' daughter, and tell stories to the fire.
But best, dead, damned, to rock forever
Beside Hell's fireside-- to see within the flames
The Heaven to whosee gold-gauzed door there comes
A little dark old woman, the God's Mother,
And cries, "Come in, come in! My son's out now,
Out now, will be back soon, may be back never,
Who knows, eh? We know what they are--men, men!
But come, come in till then! Come in till then!
poem by Randall Jarrell
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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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The Shadow Inside My Shadow
poverty is not my cousin,
is not my lover,
is not my preacher,
poverty is not my brother.
poverty is not my prayer,
or the song that i sing
is not my answer
poverty is not my dream.
poverty is not my teacher,
not the hand that i hold.
poverty is not my anger,
not my spirit, not my soul.
ah! but this poverty is real
it races thru my mind
crashes into my heart,
& leaves me deaf and blind.
poverty is my companion.
the aching cold inside my hollow.
the blow behind my eyes,
poverty is the shadow
inside my shadow.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Open Stage Poetry Reading
After the one that sings, and after the one
that can make up poems of a kind right on the spot;
after a girl who didn't . . . walk very well,
took five minutes to get from her seat to the stage
then read one poem with hardly any words in it
and halted the whole way back in a staggering silence;
after the bald one's rhymes about this teeth;
a woman got up whose poems won't write down,
it's all in the way the voices in her come out.
We went to a medium once, and a woman locked
in a trance let a dead man come inside her and talk.
She held herself like . . . a woman being a man.
That's what it was at the open stage poetry reading,
and I left without talking, I hadn't come expecting it.
What could I have told her, I think it's a dead man?
It wasn't something I wanted to get that close to.
I could never do it myself, let a dead man come in-
or would it be, into me, a dead woman that would come?
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Woman Machine
She'll do your work in half the time
Never sick and can't go blind
Oh, woman machine
Brains of tape that fill her head
She knows more now than all the dead
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Heart of steel and skin that's cold
Can't wear her out, she can't grow old
Oh, woman machine
She goes to bed when her work is through
She'll do it all, just change the tubes
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine-ine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman
She can't talk back
With no playback
But she'll listen
To all your woe
Trade your old one
For a new one
They just don't make 'em like they used to
No!
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
''...exceeds one million when the stop button is pressed,
the... has results PCR621, into the drayer reading pool
to hold the relay on for one quarter second after the
Q603 deenergizes. Therefore, the time delay occurs only
when the stop button is pressed, during the record nine.
The sole function of the capacitor c620 is to maintain
charge in
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Human Will Never Ceases To Surprise
'Tis hard to keep a good woman or man down
Even the one born on the poorest side of the town
Above the most dire poverty has been known to rise
The human will never ceases to surprise
You've heard about the female billionaire
By circumstance of birth she was not treated fair
A poor child of the poor side of the town
Like 'tis said 'tis hard to keep a good one down
Suppose it is in our life's destiny
That even from the depths of poverty
That one will rise and scale the heights of fame
And the once poor one becomes a celebrated name
Though to rise above poverty one does need
Great self belief as well as the will to succeed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Overhearing Two Arguing About Poverty
I over heard two fellows arguing about poverty
Whilst I sat in the cafe drinking coffee
And in truth I could not help but overhear them
As they sat at the next table to me.
The older of the two a silver gray haired fellow
Said to rid the World of want and poverty
We would need to depose every despotic leader
But the younger bloke with him did not agree.
He said in so called wealthy societies there's want and hunger
And where affluence is poverty too abound
From here you don't walk far to see poor people
For poverty is everywhere around.
The older bloke countered but this is a free Country
And those in poverty have themselves only to blame
And if hungry people in our midst are living
Do not expect me to feel any shame
The younger man again with him did differ
Saying want is caused by those who only care
For themselves alone and their own self interest
Many must grow poorer for to make one millionaire.
I left them there in the cafe to argue
And not for me to say who is wrong or right
For both of them looked well dressed and well fed fellows
And they won't go to bed hungry tonight.
poem by Francis Duggan
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