Poverty is a promicuous woman
I have seen poverty
And my eyes can not bear another stare
For she is ugly and oozes with the stench of repulse
Irritable to the point of regurgitation
My bowels can not stand such disgust
so i must stay afar to preserve my health
For it may not stand the complete absence of wealth
This poverty is a promiscuous woman
Whose fancy is laziness
Quick to the call of men with retired hands
And feeble legs
She is a vector of countless infirmities
Way beyond the worries of the flesh
A possessor of nauseating infections
That eats into greater depths
As the soul and spirit become helpless victims as well
poem by Fidelis Nwaugba
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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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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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Poverty Doesn’t Laugh
Fill the rivers,
With poverty’s tears,
Only then will they be filled with innocent water.
The brick that fills poverty’s throat
Should be filled with heaven’s food
Not hell’s slaughter.
Poverty’s hands should not be,
As empty as our hearts.
Their feet should not feel the piercing sand
While we rot in cars.
Poverty’s teeth are famished
Because they bite empty air,
Our teeth are stuffed with arrogance
Until our blessings with be stripped bare
In the night of hell
When guilt will crawl upon us
The worms and snakes of our sins
Will pierce venom through our selfishness
And there we will stand
Bare of all our blessings
The naked truth for the world to see
Will be paraded across poverty’s eyes
But they will not laugh.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
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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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Poverty-I
Lot of hunger and having no food is poverty,
Not having spare cloth to take bath is poverty,
Needing a shelter but not having one is poverty,
Child's sick but can not buy treatment, is poverty,
Fainting child dreaming a mouthful of rice is poverty
Searching warmth in cold flesh in winter nights, is poverty,
Sitting with umbrella on wetting bed in showering night, is poverty,
Thoughtful mother, two mouthful of rice and three children, is poverty,
An ill, deserted mother selling her child wishing it will survive, is poverty.
A defeated and desponded mother poisoning and killing her child is poverty,
.
.
posted on 31-07-2008
Copyright ©®2008, Palas Kumar Ray. All rights reserved.
poem by Palas kumar Ray
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In Your Eyes
accepting all i've done and said
I want to stand and stare again
Til there's nothing left out, oh
It remains there in your eyes
Whatever comes and goes
I will hear your silent call
I will touch this tender wall
Til i know i'm home again
Ooh
In your eyes (in your eyes)
In your eyes (in your eyes)
In your eyes (in your eyes)
In your eyes
Love i get so lost, sometimes
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
When i want to run away
I drive off in my car
But whichever way i go
I come back to the place you are
And all my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
In your eyes
The light the heat
In your eyes
I am complete
In your eyes
I see the doorway (in your eyes) to a thousand churches
In your eyes
The resolution (in your eyes) of all the fruitless searches
In your eyes
I see the light and the heat
In your eyes
Oh, i want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
The heat i see in your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
Love, i don't like to see so much pain
So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive
And all my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
In your eyes
The light the heat
In your eyes
I am complete
In your eyes
I see the doorway (in your eyes) to a thousand churches
In your eyes
The resolution (in your eyes) of all the fruitless searches
In your eyes
I see the light and the heat
In your eyes
Oh, i want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
The heat i see in your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
Accepting all i've done and said
I want to stand and stare again
Til there's nothing left out, oh
It remains there in your eyes
Whatever comes and goes
Oh it's in your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
I want to stand and stare again
Oh, it's in your eyes.
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An incomplete soul of a woman
Often you have called me
"Complete"
Often you have called me
"A full woman"
And today you ask me
What in life I lack?
Love…
If you had ever guessed
You would have known
How very "incomplete" I am.
Half my life I have spent
Waiting for you....
Searching for you...
In every passing strangers eyes.
Now when you finally are here
You stand a stranger
Closest to the heart,
Like the shadow of the dusk
Very much my own,
Yet distant, like a dream.
I know you are mine
Just as am i
solely yours,
Yet will always stand apart as
"we" are nobodies nobody.
The feeling is so pure,
Pristine like the dawn
And its dew.
Yet wrapped in ugly sheets of guilt
it will always lie buried
in deep caverns of shame.
And like thieves two,
We will always hide,
What is so beautiful,
So serene, so true.
I am not complete…
How can i?
When I am destined to live
This life with you
Yet without you.
I am not a full woman…
How can i?
When I am to wither away and die..
Somewhere very close to you
Yet far away from your sight.
Yes, I will always remain
"in-complete".
An incomplete soul of a woman.
poem by Anjali Kakati
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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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very nice Make up!
Weaving the sand for the strong ropes to make a mat,
Raining makes the sky to weep and to be wet,
The rays of Sun pass through the mountain,
What my little mind can hold and ascertain,
The vector that has magnitude and direction,
Not the vector transmitting ills and illusions,
When we try to roll the mat out of wish and will,
What can you and I do, when no one care to stand still,
I am a fool, when trying to build the sand castle,
Where I try to keep my mat, made of clouds,
Blue prints of two or three addresses point the lunar,
When I knock each and every door that are closed,
We don't have to put make up even during sleep,
We have to remove it for our own good health.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Stealth, Health and Wealth
Stealth, health and wealth, each a curious breed
Are not such strange bedfellows indeed.
Stealth, with its cunning and mysterious ways,
Escapes notice matter not the attention one pays.
With the suspicious this surreptitious wins in spite
Of all who strain for a glimpse of its sight.
Then there's health with its nefarious aim,
Favoring young and wealthy in its merciless game.
What justice is there as it forsakes the weak,
Choosing to stand by and laugh at the meek?
Or why does it change with no reason at all,
Ignoring vanquished victims imploring its call?
Now lastly take wealth, oh wealth so dear.
The worst irony of all may, indeed, lies here.
Many forfeit love and happiness for a chance
To tiptoe with this god in an all-too-short dance.
Then as stealth teams with wealth, it's time to pay
Costs of health escaping more notice every day.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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(Africa poems) I wallow alone in my poverty
Do not come to haul
Me out of my poverty.Rush
To end your own poverty
Of the spirit.I wallow alone
In my sea of poverty
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Cant Stand Losing You
Ive called you so many times today
And I guess its all true what your girlfriends say
That you dont ever want to see me again
And your brothers going to kill me and hes six feet ten
I guess youd call it cowardice
But Im not prepared to go on like this
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant
I cant stand losing you
I cant stand losing you
I cant stand losing you
I cant stand losing you
I see youve sent my letters back
And my lp records and theyre all scratched
I cant see the point in another day
When nobody listens to a word I say
You can call it lack of confidence
But to carry on living doesnt make no sense
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I guess this is our last goodbye
And you dont care, so I wont cry
But youll be sorry when Im dead
And all this guilt will be on your head
I guess youd call it suicide
But Im too full to swallow my pride
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing...
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can't Stand Losing You
I've called you so many times today
And I guess it's all true what your girl-friends say
That you don't ever want to see me again
And your brother's gonna kill me and he's six feet ten
I guess you'd call it cowardice
But I'm not prepared to go on like this
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing you
I can't stand losing you
I can't stand losing you
I can't stand losing you
I see you sent my letters back
And my L.P. records and they're all scratched
I can't see the point in another day
When nobody listens to a word I say
You can call it lack of confidence
But to carry on living doesn't make no sense
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't stand losing you
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I guess this is our last goodbye
And you don't care, so I won't cry
But you'll be sorry when I'm dead
And all this guilt will be on your head
I guess you'd call it suicide
But I'm too full to swallow my pride
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't...
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Valediction Of The Body For The Soul
I am the body, and you are the soul. I let you in. You are my guest.
Inside my body, you feel what i feel.You know what i know.
What you like i too must like.
What you disgust I too must disgust.
We have become one. Ideally, we go. I go where you go.
I let you stand on my feet
I let you touch the persons and things that you love
Through my Hands.
I am the body and you are the Soul. Inside me
You are my guest. They say that you are more important.
Holier. More wise. Filled with Understanding,
As I let you stay, I have become of lesser importance
To those who worship you, through me.
I am the body, and I have become secondary
to Your importance. But you are just my guest. I have let you in.
Now I demand that you too must respect my flesh,
My bones, My blood. I bleed. You don't. I feel the pain
You don't. I now demand that you too My Soul
Must understand my simple needs. My need for warmth
and Desire.
I am the Body and You are the Soul. I demand respect
and understanding otherwise I may use my power
to Oust You. I still have the power to put an end
To this Body and it is you who must leave.
You must understand me. When I end the life of this Body
As I very well know I can, then you Leave.
I will be left. I may rot. I may turn to Dust. But I have done
what is within my Power.
Respect my little lusts. That is my compromise with You.
Have a little understanding to my confusions.
Bear with Me too. Be my Guest. Be the Good One.
My Soul, My friend, My companion.I am your Faithful Body.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love Finds It Hard To Live Amongst Poverty
The most I can offer you is sympathy
That life can be a bugger one would have to agree
Your mind it is ravaged by financial worries and care
The spectre of poverty at you does stare
Life is not meant to be easy said George Bernard Shaw
And in the bigger World out there it is Murphy's Law
Everyone for themselves and God for us all
Those words from my boyhood I often recall
Your ex wife with her and your young son and daughter live with another man
For to grow old with you was not in her life's plan
You were the man she once did love and admire
But of a poverty type of existence she quickly did tire
Love finds it hard to live amongst poverty
Life can be a bugger you are telling me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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We have mistaken the nature of poverty, and thought it was economic poverty. No, it is poverty of soul, deprivation of God's recreating, loving peace.
quote by Thomas R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poverty, And Ignorance!
one of the most infuriating
things i've ever read inferred
that people live in poverty
because they are ignorant!
the majority of people living
in poverty are there because
they are the victims of human greed.
call it what you want....
when too few have too much,
the many do without.
we are not so ignorant as to
accept your blatent assumptions!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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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We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty.
quote by Mother Teresa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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