Money Power
Money is the need of life
Everyone loves this, either mother or wife
Yes, it is very lovable-
Why not, as it gives us respect and make us able
We can buy every precious thing
And some say, if you have money only then have "Honey"
We can by-pass any law and order-
Using money and speak louder
But money cannot replace truth
Yet it can hide it on mysterious earth
It cannot make us to sleep
But it can make us to weep
Money is the dust of our hand
Which will be washed away when we wash hand
Money can make us respectful
But it cannot make us truthful
Money should not be treated as everything
Or we will miss truthness of worldly things
Everything should not be done just for some money
Or we will miss love of others, which will make us funny
Earn money don't pride of it
Love money don't do crime for it
Or God will make distance from you
You are his only son, is the truthest true
Money is not life but life is money
The tour of life is very "Turny"
Humanity is the first duty of ours
Search for truth and get success in yours Life's Tour
poem by Shashank Dwivedi
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Our Mother
Holy mother, i pay you a grand respect
We're borne for your lovable aspect
From strong to weak, from rich to poor
You welcome all to your heart's door
You gave us the power of speaking
Neverthless, you gave us everything
Mother, transmogrify us from all our sins
With your holy charm into well beings
We relinquish ourselves into your hand
Don't keep us left behind in strand
Redeploy us for developing this earth
To construct a better future of what we are worth
We entreat you to make our lives equitable
Unite us with your love making inseperable
We're borne for your lovable aspect
Holy mother, i pay you a grand respect
poem by Debdeep Ganguly
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Who Loves Me
Who loves me?
Is it the woman who carried me in her womb for 7 months?
Or is the man that I am the spitting image of that I call Pop?
Who loves me?
Is it my three siblings who I grew up with?
Or is it their children who call me Uncle Ronald?
Who loves me?
Is it my friend I known for most of my life?
Or is it the woman I Instant message and hopes to one day make my wife?
Who loves me?
Well out of all those people I mention
I can’t tell you which one of them loves me.
From my mother to the woman who’s more than likely my future wife.
But I can tell you this I know at least one person who loves me,
and that is me.
That’s right
it is me
who love me!
Because Of Money
Because of money people wish on others harm or ill
And because of money people others do injure or kill
And because of money great friendships have come to an end
And money can make you an enemy or make you a friend
To those with the power of money respect we do pay
And money speaks every language some are known to say
And those with the most money great power do command
That is something that is not hard to understand
Those with heaps of money enjoy the good life
The millionaire in his seventies has a twenty two year old wife
With brown hair to her shoulders and lovely to behold
She would not be with him if he were poor and old
But because of his money with him she will stay
Money speaks every language that's life as some say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Old Miser and his 3rd Wife
1
The Old Miser
my husband is dying
and he makes me promise
I must put all his money in his coffin
when he dies
“O my legal third wife
the only one surviving -
you must put all my money
secretly in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring away all the money
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
2
Now, he’s dead
and I’ve arranged for his funeral
and while everyone’s busy
with all these preparations
I dutifully take all his money
from the hiding place
which he whispered to me
with his last breath
and he bit my ear and he snarled:
“Put all my money
in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
3
So I take all his money
and bring it to the bank
and deposit it in my name
and make a cheque out for 10 million
and put the cheque below his head
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you can take all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Testing
Testing
A testing is going on me
to place me in the peak of heights
In this process
He placed me in the midst of fire of poverty
Hungry is cruel
At the same time the starving of our kids is too cruel
Prestige and self respect are precious
a small blow is enough to break into pieces
Asking not, any thing from realtives
Every grain from them will carry a lot of pain and tears
Penniless persons are their jokers
My crys and tears are thier enchanting plays
No peace even in temples to this victim
Home is the hell and my shadow will turn as enemy
Wherever I go
My poverty preface will reach before me
My lovable wife and kids too throw him by words
This is a test going on to Purify me
to gaive me a precious gift after this life
After this life whatever He gives
what it will serve to me to my present needs.
A ladder is enough to go to my normal heights
No rockets are required to reach the sky and stars
poem by Sakthi Ravichandran
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I Would Do For You
The Mother looks into the eyes of her child,
With the love that is so deep and true
Then she hugs her child and loves her child,
And says, “ there is nothing that I would not do for you”.
She loves her child more than she does herself
She’ll places her child above all others
For the child she would die, And not even ask why,
As the child is hers, and she is the mother.
She knows she’ll will always be there for her child
No matter the pain or a reason why,
Just to see it smile or hear it laugh
It is the greatest joy that a mother wont hide.
She will follow her child throughout her life
That being the reason why she says she lives
The love is so great for a mother and her child,
That there is nothing that she would not do or give.
She thinks of her child constantly when she is alone
She knows no pain or discomfort when the child is near,
She is only here to make her child happy and wise
While hoping never to bring her child a tear.
I now look into the eyes of my wife,
The woman who I love with a love so deep and true,
As a mother loves her child, a man he loves his wife
And with her in mind I say, “ there is nothing that I wouldn't do for you”.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Earn money
Gran father money
Father money
Mother money
Brother money
Sister money
Friends money
All moneyees are
Others only others...
Don't loves other moneys
On the way of life
Love your money...
Enjoy your money
Earn your won money...
Each every day you and others...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Love of man and woman
As a boy, one loves one’s mother.
As a man, one loves one’s wife
As a father one loves one’s kids.
Mother’s love is irrespective of age.
A wife loves her husband for her children.
Children grown up, they are left
To love each other for companionship
And later for their helplessness.
05.07.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Money Money Money
Money Money Money
You're just a a thing in itself
But why is it your controlling me
Bit by bit you consume my sanity...
Your not a king but it seems like
Your everywhere...
Money Money Money
You turn myself full of greed......
I know that your a need
But then I'm not contended..
I have more of you
but seems like its not enough.....
Money Money Money
You were just created by man
But then man spare life just for you...
Crime and addiction emerged because of you...
Rich man had enough of you...
But then there the one who had the urge to kill
Just a thing... a money?
How it seems...
Money Money Money
Are you the one who rule our lives
Without you we intend to die?
What made you so important...?
Worship you not even God
Replacing love as our life..
But money as a thing
That can ruin our life!
poem by Mary Joy Lumanog
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The long time support
My mother loves me more than my wife.
I love my mother more than my wife.
I have decided to lean on my wife,
A stake lasting longer than my mother.
08.04.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Love the money
Money
Is not money...
It is life....
Money is not
Money
It is happy...
Money is
Not money
It is faith...
Money is not
Money
It is friend...
Money is not
Money
It is life maker...
Money is not
Money...
It is your hard work...
Money is not
Money...
poors god...
money is not
Money
Rich people Cap...
Money is not
Money
World wide all...
Any or many thing money
With money...
So...
Love the money...
Each every day...
Earn too enjoy
with your's life...
witrh good...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Give a flower
Give a flower to your mother, or to your wife,
With it say thanks, they make a difference to your life;
Your mother took time and a lot of patience too,
And so does the wife, and gives her love to you.
Give a rose to some one who needs a caring time,
Who because of sickness, or needs the day to shine;
Tell them you care, and want to show them too,
This'll make them feel better, the caring came from you.
Give some lily's at. Christmas, with a Christmas bell,
To some lonely person, they li listen when you tell;
That God loves them, and wants to uplift them too,
That God wants to change them and their life to renew.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Precious Things
Some people guard their money
as being the most precious thing
in their lives.
Some people worship their loved ones
as being the most precious thing
out side of heaven they will ever get.
Some people declare to everyone
they have no precious things at all,
but their way of thinking has a tiny flaw.
Everyone will have something precious,
something that they would
give up their lives for.
Something so dear to them
it is worth every sacrifice they have to make
so long as they never lost if from their lives.
12 August 2008
poem by David Harris
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My Mother
Every one gives praise about their mothers
But none can give as much praise as me.
She brought me from a country
Where most lived in poverty.
She worked hard and saved her money
So that I may have a better life
She is an excellent mother
And to my father a good wife.
She has been there every step of my life
She turned bad things into right.
She has given me the strength to pursue my dream
For in me, there is something that she has seen.
She taught me how to love and respect
All that GOD has given
and to make life worth living.
Through her pregnancy and through my birth
She has given all her worth.
Then through my childhood years
To my teenage years, she was with me
To shed her tears.
when I was feeling down and out
And I wanted to scream and shout
She was there to wipe my tears
And put to rest, all my fears.
Even now that I am grown
all her love is still shown.
No one can love you more than a mother
And in my life there is no other.
So to my mother this is for you
You are my life, my love, my dream come true
And I am so thankful to you.
poem by Louis Rams
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Wife- better half of life
Wife is the better half of life
Give wife love affection as soul-mate
Wife is not glorified maid as said
Wife do not want money salary honorarium
Do not make hulla gulla and do not beat drum.
Mian bibi relationship should not be commercialized
Third party intervention in family relation vandalized.
Wife is not a domestic labourer
Wife is backbone of the family
The maile stone of the family
Wife is the torchlight of the family
Wife is the colorful star
Do no put any question to her.
Wife is there to give everything
Wife is not to take anything in return
Wife is the goddess.
Only mad man can say wife is a domestic servant
Make wife a wife life-partner better half
And enjoy life freely.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Pantoum for Mother
My mother, always a gentle woman,
As far as I have known,
Loves her children, loves herself,
Worked herself to the bone.
As far as I have known,
She never cheated me,
Working herself to the bone,
My mother taught to me.
She never cheated me,
Of money or life or love,
My mother has taught to me,
The best gifts are up above.
Of money or life or love,
Is what the world shall see,
Are not my gifts, for they’re above,
And that’s what my mother taught to me.
poem by Erica Burke
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Honour to Women
The woman is my mother,
She is the wife of my father.
The woman is my wife,
She is also the mother of my children.
I love my mother,
My children love their mother, too;
So, I respect my beloved wife.
Every woman with the veil of Mother is honoured by all,
Heaven lying at the feet of mother, every woman moves proudly.
poem by Supanul Islam Supan
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What a mother should be
A mother is the one who loves you
A mother puts no drug above you
A mother will never make you cry
A mother will never make you want to die
A mother will help you fight your fears
A mother will help you stop your tears
A mother will keep you safe and sound
A mother will never let you down
A mother will daily say I love you
A mother won’t say I hate you
A mother won’t wish you were dead
A mother won’t forget what you said
A mother won’t close the door
A mother won’t let you be poor
Now I ask you, do you have a mother?
Cause’ I don’t, so don’t bother.
poem by Carlisa Smith
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Money Is Quite Important
Not much about most things I can claim to know
But I'm certain that money on trees does not grow
And though in the Human World money is the most important thing
Of love lost and found singers prefer to sing
Money is quite important why otherwise pretend
The pauper you will find does not have a friend
Those with plenty money can live the good life
The wealthy old bloke has a lovely young wife
He feels that she loves him but he has got it wrong
Her love for his money than for him far more strong
Money speaks every language a truth often told
And those who have plenty of it are never too old
To have someone far younger to with them walk hand in hand
In the street or the park or on the sunlit strand.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Man Worries
the way life was
is something life
should never be
verbally and physically
abusing me
you broke me down
down to my knees
you put your hands on me
in front of my seeds
but im finally free
free to be me
free from the endless struggle
i had to endure
at the hands of someone
i thought loved me
scared to leave
cause of what you said youd do to me
afraid at times to come home
cause of how you treated me
but now im gone
and never coming back
me and the kids
are living a worry free life
i have moved on
and found a new wife
who loves me for me
and not the punching bag
you wanted me to be
i was called a punk and all that junk
because mama taught me respect
respect my wife and she will respect you
never put your hands on a woman
thats what everyone said
well who do you turn to
when its the woman putting fists to your head.
poem by Shanika Lowe
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