See Him Approach
See him approach
In his cragly wag
His silent trumpeting
Of poverty.
Scruffy lad
You arouse my pity
My nose is loose
Because of you.
You approach
In your cragly wag
Your silent trumpeting
Of poverty.
Scruffy lad
He arouses my pity
My nose is loose
Because of him.
poem by Samuel Nze
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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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Pity, pity, pity
Look at to the unwanted child
Look at to the divorced wife
Look at to the homeless man
What people do other than saying
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the tragic hero
Look at to the sympathized villain
Look at to the clueless victim
What witnesses do other than staring
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the crazy dreamer
Look at to the unlucky gambler
Look at to the stubborn fighter
What friends do other than whispering
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the withering flower
Look at to the starving animal
Look at to the extinct nature
What human do other than howling
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the empty spaces
Look at to the blank faces
Look at to the lost traces
What devils do other than laughing
“Pity, pity, pity”
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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This nation has always struggled with how it was going to deal with poor people and people of color. Every few years you will see some great change in the way that they approach this. We've had the war on poverty that never really got into waging a real war on poverty.
quote by Maxine Waters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Pity B-Gone!
Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!
Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!
We knew that pity had to split!
B-gone.
We knew that our hearts would split, and soon...
B-gone.
If we let that pity sit,
Between us....
Both of us would have a fit.
If we let that pity sit,
Both of us would have a fit.
If we let that pity sit...
Between us!
And...
You'd believe,
That I could never love you.
To leave me feeling sorry,
And blue.
But...
I would know,
How deep inside my love goes.
And protecting what I love,
Before it overflows.
Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!
So...
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And maybe not so much the benefits.
Since I would miss too much your many moods.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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The Misfortunates
What a prodigy, dear Chatterton?
At your teens, you pioneer'd romance
Alas, poverty be your mighty menace
The silent suicide of arsenic poison.
.
Poverty and tuberculosis in your battles
All in the blush of bitter rejections
A virtuoso bedridden in his afflictions
Norwid, this life unfair - heaven rattles.
.
I mourn the life and death of Crosby
Her poems and hymns her witness
She had journey'd all her days in blindness
I imagine with pity how she prance the lobby.
.
Your lines are great, - though
They were written in distress
Your tears when you mourn your mistress
Your fourty was full of pain, Allan Poe.
.
poem by Joseph Oladehinde Ibikunle
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Nose
No one cares for the nose
To go nose straight is the tao
If there were no eyes
You could see better with your nose
If there were no nose
you wouldnot distinguish the sweet from the bitter
And there would be no value judgements in the world
And it is the nose that keeps you hot in the cold
And that keeps you cold in Jakodabad
The nose is the vigilant customs officer
That does not allow any drug to your lungs
And the nose cannot be bribed
Oh Nose! the customs officer of the body
And the pivot of value judgement in the world
If that name thou love
Remain with us and teach the noseless world
That it must have a nose in this wartorn world
He who knows the greatness of nose
Surely goes to the realm of rose
In the life to come
Hurrah Let us compose hymns to nose
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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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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Get Up Off That Pity Pot
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
No need to keep weeping tears,
That long ago overflowed.
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Holding onto woes,
Have eroded your motives.
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
So wipe your eyes to dry,
And realize...
You are not alone.
You're not alone.
You are not alone.
You're not alone.
Get up!
Off your butt!
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
And realize...
You are not alone.
You're not alone.
You are not alone.
You're not alone.
Get up!
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
You need to get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
You need to get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot,
And stop those woes to drop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With A Pity That You Want
With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.
And with a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.
You weep too deep,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
To realize...
A pain you keep.
With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.
But...
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
You weep too deep,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
And your wants are weak.
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.
But...
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.
Oh...
But you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.
And with a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want,
To show you're one of those...
With a pity that you want,
To show exposed.
With a pity that you want,
To be one of those!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: The Souls on the Streets at Night
Pity the beggar lying by roadside;
Pavement’s his bed; a stone, pillow for head!
With ill-clad children/wife scattered beside,
No one can tell if he’s alive or dead!
Pity the soul, whose dwelling is pavement,
Victim of men/ insects/beasts/ wind and rain!
His roof is formed by the vast firmament;
His only wealth- a begging bowl and cane!
Pity the street-children and people lost;
Their suff’ring’s endless, more so when diseased;
Nothing frightens them, not even a ghost;
There’s none to bury them, when they’re deceased.
Pity the man of poverty in street!
God dwells in him; God surely, will he meet.
poem by John Celes
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I Pity You
I pity you when you walk down the street
I pity you when you open your mouth to speak
You will tell your story, with its pity and glory
As sympathy is all that you do seek.
I pity you and your parents dear
I pity you when from you they don’t want to hear
As you put them to blame, for your sadness and pain
That’s why for you no-one will shed a tear.
I pity you when you laugh and smile
I pity you as your life is full of guile
But you are the source, for your sadness and remorse
And you wont change even when walking your last mile.
I pity you as you once had something
I pity you as now you have nothing
You threw everything away, so you could stray
Now your retribution will be coming.
I pity you as with time you will age
I pity you with your hate and your rage
You will always fight, whether you are wrong or right
You are the animal and your soul is your cage
I pity you and I do it without a clue
I pity you whenever I see or hear of you
There is no sympathy, as your not my friend or enemy
And all I can say is, that I truly pity you.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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In Those Old Days
You may be tough.
But your approach to solicit,
My empathy and pity...
Could have been easier to get,
Without your demanding it.
But I do understand,
The competition you're up against.
And if I may make a suggestion...
You should put that gun away.
Since my first reaction,
Is not empathy with pity for you at all.
'It isn't real.'
Which?
The gun?
Your wish for empathy and pity?
Or my fear?
'Why can't you just co-operate,
And give me what I want? '
Trust me.
I'm going to give you exactly what you need.
Now that I know that gun isn't real.
'The gun IS real.
My need for empathy and pity isn't.
Thank you.
All I wanted was a decent conversation.
You were the only one I spotted,
Not texting or using a cellphone.
You have no idea how difficult it is for me,
To communicate like I did in the old days.'
So you are using a gun to do it?
'Hey...
What can I say.
I'm open for your suggestions.'
Good.
Give me the gun.
And I'll show you what I would have done.
'What are you going to do? '
Communicate my feelings,
Like I use to do in those old days.
And trust me...
You will know immediately,
Just what my feelings are.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Silent
Silent when I have nothing to say.
Silent just to avoid the fray.
Silent when I am not sure.
Silent—I can't stand anymore.
Silent when you make me mad.
Silent I am when times are sad.
Silent when I am too shy.
Silent when I want to cry.
Silent as I carry life's load.
Silent... I may soon explode.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin
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Don’t Pity Me
I can stand on my own two feet
Spare me the reminder that I came from those lonely streets
Which made me cold as I grew old
Don’t pity me, no don’t pity me at all
I did what was necessary to survive
Build my dreams on hard concrete
Fed myself dust until I couldn’t eat
Why pity me, why pity me at all
Now that I am full, I can use the energy
To do what you could have done
Saved me instead of feeling sorry
Because you pity me, and you pity me until I was no more
So the next time you look down and see me
Remember this, it could have been you not me.
poem by Landsley Alexandre
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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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Pity Makes Those Visits
Everyday you have to pray,
If you want a life to be lived right.
Everyday.
And everyday you have to do it in a way,
To make those loose ends tight.
Without a struggle or fight.
You want a life that's easy pleasing.
Without discipline or meaning.
Without work or sweat involved.
With your troubles quickly solved.
You wish your dreams to come alive.
While you sit and analyze...
Why others seem to have such luck!
And all you have is whining time.
With pity making visits in your mind.
That's all you want,
There to fine.
Everyday you have to pray,
If you want a life to be lived right.
Everyday.
And everyday you have to do it in a way,
To make those loose ends tight.
Without a struggle or fight.
But pity makes those visits in your mind.
All the time.
And all you wish to do is sit...
And analyze.
Why you ain't gotta dime.
And pity makes those visits in your mind.
All the time.
And all you wish to do is sit...
And analyze.
With thin dimes on your mind!
As pity makes those visits in your mind.
Without a thin dime to find!
As pity makes those visits...
You don't want to quit,
In your mind.
Without a thin dime to find!
Pity makes those visits you don't want to quit,
Sitting in your mind!
All the time!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Putting Pity Properly Propped
How pitiful can a declared pity get?
Some can do pity proud...
By having pity dipped and bronzed.
And accessorized with torment.
With a highlighting of pity in rhinestone...
To give focus with meaning and intention meant.
Capturing a pity purposely posing in a moldedness...
And an importance that could be set on mantels.
Thusly and/or thence...
Putting pity properly propped,
On top and placed upon such a pedestal.
Where pitifulness praised like this can sit!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Killer On The Loose
Some people they call me jack
Some people they call me insane
Im looking for somebody
And I dont even know her name
I might be looking for you
Wherever you may be
For there is something Ive got to do to you honey
And its between you and me
Now you might think its funny
Or maybe its a joke
But youve got plenty of reason to worry honey
'cause you wouldnt stand a hope
Theres a killer on the loose again
A killer on the loose
Theres a killer on the loose again
A ladykiller on the loose
Now Im not trying to be nasty
Or Im not trying to make you scared
But theres a killer on the loose
Or havent you heard
Hell be walking around this town
Just about midnight
Yes, thats chinatown
Thats right
Thats right
Now you might think Im messing
Or he dont exist
But honey Im confessing
Im a mad sexual rapist
Theres a killer on the loose again
A killer on the loose
Theres a killer on the loose again
A ladykiller on the loose
Ill be standing in the shadows of love
Waiting for you
Dont unzip your zipper
'cause you know Im jack the ripper
Now dont wail, dont...
Theres a killer on the loose again
Standing in the shadows
A killer on the loose
Theres a killer on the loose again
Coming to get you
A ladykiller on the loose
Theres a killer on the loose again
Standing in the shadows of love
A killer on the loose
Theres a killer on the loose again
Thats right jack
A ladykiller on the loose
Theres a killer on the loose again
Standing in the shadow
A killer on the loose again, of love
Theres a killer on the loose again
Oooh
You better watch out
A killer on the loose
Play that back
Check it back
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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