From the confines of the tomb to the prison of the grave
Even if you kill him
For the small inheritance
Of the supermarket and the old
Crumbling shop in the old
Quarters of those who will
Never venture out of the confines
Of this township 'cause they're
Held hostage by their poverty
Even if you congratulate yourselves
And are adamant that your parent
Deserved to have his days cut short
The sin of your crime will cause
Havoc to your conscience you
Will not spend your ill gotten
Wealth in peace because even
Where you build mansions surrounded
By a sea of poverty from the earth
And from the confines of the tomb
And beyond the prison of the grave
Your father rages for revenge and
Never mind whether the sun today rises
From the East or from the sea
The one will mow down the other
And he will snatch the will but his
Name will be eaten by the moths
There and in his hour of madness he
Will run to them and he will confess
The double tragedy and the sin of
Your murderous greed and your
Names will be shamed and exposed
Your crimes and your sins will haunt
You and this world will be very
Small for you life will not
Decriminalize your notorious name
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Related quotes
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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Antony: And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war.
line from The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene 1, script by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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On Reading Of The World's 100 Wealthiest People
The World's many billion people controlled by the greedy few
But to every billionaire there is there are a million who
Go to sleep weak and hungry their wasted bodies thin
For days they haven't eaten their bones showing through their skin.
The World's 100 wealthiest people their names published today
And yet the poor grow poorer it has always been this way
And the social gap keeps widening and with it inequality
And not far from where the wealthy live there's want and poverty
Not far from where the wealthy live you see social decay
The slums that reek of poverty the buildings old and gray
The sad faced mother of the slums her kids out of control
Her husband in jail for larceny and she is on the dole.
Of the World's 100 wealthiest people why should I wish to know
When poverty is rampant and the numbers of the hungry grow
If the World's wealthiest person Bill Gates fed the hungry of Sudan
I too would sing his praises and I'd say what a man.
The World's wealthiest people their names published today
But not too far from where they live there is social decay
And that they are worth billions show how greedy they must be
When millions of poor people must live in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The World's One Hundred Wealthiest
The World's many billion people controlled by the greedy few
But to every billionaire there is there are a million who
Go to sleep weak and hungry their wasted bodies thin
For days they have not eaten their bones showing through
their skin.
The world's one hundred wealthiest people their names published today
And yet the poor grow poorer it has always been this way
And the social gap keeps widening and with it inequality
And not far from where the wealthy live there's want and poverty.
Not far from where the wealthy live you see social decay
The slums that reek of poverty the buildings old and gray
The sad faced mother of the slums her kids out of control
Her husband in jail for larceny and she is on the dole.
Of the world's one hundred wealthiest people why should I wish to know?
When poverty is rampant and the numbers of the hungry grow
If the world's wealthiest person Bill Gates fed the hungry of Sudan
I too would sing his praises and I'd say what a man.
The world's weaalthiest people their names published today
But not too far from where they live there is social decay
And that they are worth billions show how greedy they must be
When millions of poor people must live in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
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If Life In The Human World We Live In
If life in the Human World we live in is in any way fair
None would have to grow poorer for every new millionaire
And none would have to live friendless and homeless and enough food for all to eat
And no such a place known as Poverty Street
In a fair World peace between former enemies would last
And war and it's bad memories a thing of the past
And former terrorists any excuse could not find
To wilfully maim and murder their fellow kind
Without terrorism and war, hunger, homelessness and poverty
What a beautiful World to live in it would be
But due to human greed mistrust exists everywhere
And no such a thing as a fair go for billions in the big World out there
A World free of extreme poverty that leads to crime
But that at least will not be in my lifetime.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Letter to Pac (I)
There are still no changes
You wake up in the morning and you ask yourself
Is life worth living or should you kill yourself?
There are still no changes
No difference between the cops and robbers
They’re both heartless
With no conscience
Pulling triggers and Killing niggers
There are still no changes
Days are filled with anger and hidden rage
There’s no peace and there’s still war in the middle east
Some things have changed and some things would never change
You now have a president who’s black
And penitentiaries are not filled with blacks.
Children are still bred on poverty
A poverty that knaws on their sanity
Causing perversity
Somethings have changed and some things would never change
But I guess that’s the way it is.
poem by David Oluwatobi Akinola
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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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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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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 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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Down the Sweet Shop
The little corner shop
full of special treats
Chocolate, bottles of Pop,
and jars and jars of sweets.
With pocket money in hand
given to me by my Dad
sometimes a little bit extra
if he heard I'd been a good lad.
I really loved that little shop
it was every young boys dream
you could get everything you'd want
Football Cards, Toys, and Ice-Cream.
My dad used the shop as well
he'd pop in to buy his fags
and Mum did her weekly shop
she'd get me to help her with the bags.
Then along came the big supermarket
the little shop began to lose it's trade
so sadly it had to close it's doors
an end of an era again I'm afraid.
But I'll always remember the little shop
stood there at the bottom of our lane
yes it may have only been small
but it had more style than any supermarket chain!
poem by Kevin Halls
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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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Impoverish Child
A small poverty-stricken girl wearing shabby clothes and unkempt hair. Treasures in heaven was all she bear. Poverty seem to be her destiny in life, but as she grew she struggle to survive. Nine was the age she began to toil. Sunrise to sunset was all. She was taught God's love and never be idle for survival. She remember God's word, through sorrow the heart will be better. Through diligence life began to matter.
Life had dealt her a bad hand, she remember it's God who giveth wealth to make one stand.
through prayer and toil riches in life came soon. Poverty was not her doom.
poem by Sylvia James
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Be Very Patient
Be very patient,
The potter's clay;
Be very wise,
The writer's pen;
Be very useful,
Of the muse of life with a living hope;
Let your yes be yes and your no be no.
Life is like the patience of Iyyob,
So abstain from fleshly lust;
Like the days of our visitations on this earth.
Sarah obeyed Abraham,
Like the sea and the seashore;
So established are the two witnesses.
Oh womb, womb, womb!
Oh bomb, bomb, bpomb! !
Oh tomb, tomb, tomb! ! !
Be very patient in this life.
Womb. bomb, tomb;
The womb is opened.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The earth is defiled.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The time of trouble on this earth with our muses.
Our bombs will shake the heavens,
And our sins will led us to our tombs;
As it is written in the Book Of Life like,
A child born today from the womb.
We came out of the womb and,
Many of us will be killed by the bombs! !
Which will finally send us into the tombs.
Read about the facts,
Learn about the truth,
Our days of darkness from the womb!
We came out of the womb and,
Are destroying the world with our bombs;
Soon, we will be buried in the tombs!
Womb, bomb, tomb;
Be very patient on this earth without hatred.
Lets be each others keeper,
Lets learn for the truth of all things;
Our days on this earth is still very short.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Poverty is not a Calling
Poverty is not a calling,
Even if the priests think it is.
Poverty is a distraction,
The intellectual must think it so.
Think of the books you could have bought
Had you had money,
Or the food you may have eaten
In a posh hotel.
You soak garri in water
And wipe your mouth,
Then put on a fine shirt
So no one will know.
You are a lie - you know you want more;
Chicken dipped in sauce
And maybe some wine too,
But you cannot afford it.
You are ill
And so run to the chemist;
No doctor for you,
A card is three hundred naira.
Pain killers, multivitamins and blood capsules,
You will still have change;
Why then bother with the syringe
Or the bespectacled grave face?
You see?
Poverty denies you the good life;
You cannot do what
Your seeming betters do.
You discover it is a sad state,
Poverty is not a calling;
We both know that,
Even if we pretend not to.
poem by Samuel Nze
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These Corporate Crims
These corporate crims are no longer quite rare
And plenty of them in the big World out there
But of the Universal Consciousness so little we know
In karma 'tis true that we reap what we sow.
These super rich crims to themselves may drink a toast
But for their crimes 'tis the have nots who do suffer the most
The more money they have the more they seem to need
And many must grow poorer because of their greed.
They do not spare one thought for those in poverty
And they lack in compassion and in empathy
Their greed for more money it leads them to crime
And far better than them are in jail serving time.
To the laws of fair trade respect they do not pay
But we reap what we sow that is the karmic way
Their great lust for money to crime them does lead
But others must suffer because of their greed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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O' Murderous Poverty
O' poverty, thou hast made man prostrate his soul for repast
Thou hast made him swallow the bitter pills of living
Yet thou sing songs of death to his hearing
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.
In thy bosom cometh suffering, pains and sorrows
Thou taketh delight when the world's burden heaped upon man
Man toil in vain for subsistence from sunrise to sunset
Yet thou castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.
Man roams about the street with no shoes for his feet
And with no vest upon his already worn out bones
Having his repast from the table crumbs of other folks
Not certain of where the next crumbs of survival cometh
Yet you castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.
His offspring sick and pale then die ere his face
His heart become a place where dirge and elegy meet
And he ask 'Poverty, why thou puncture the tube of my happiness?
Why art thou the architect of man's sorrows and grieves'.
Yet thou castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel, cruel, cruel even fiend.
poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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Help For The Poor
Forty Word Poem:
Poverty-trapped and poverty-stricken
To consider children in need is our mission.
Vintage harvest, but too small a yield;
Equality for everyone would be the ideal.
Bread must be shared now and evermore
Poverty's a subject worth fighting for.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The problematic child
Necessity is the mother of invention,
People say. Then we can say like that:
Wealth is the mother of comforts,
And poverty, of meanness.
Wealth is the mother of indolence too.
So is poverty, of viciousness.
Wealth and poverty near by
Deliver discontent,
Which is a problematic child.
04.01.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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