Related quotes: The lord of sin appears...

Breaking New Ground

The lord of sin appears courtesy of god
In an asian shadowplay
Convincing the nuns to leave the hospitals
While he was scattering his seed among the people
The candles flickering in the light wind
Are fighting against the first rays
Of the rising sun
Let us start
Breaking new ground
A rich man is poor when a poor man is rich
And a mouse can kill an elephant
In a jungle where jesus is a moviestar
That drove his porsche in the pool
While the apostels had a drink too much
In the local topless bar
Discussing armagedeon
Faith and hope
Let us start
Enriched with sweet temptation
Were eating the shadows

song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stolen God--Lazarus To Dives

We do not clamour for vengeance,
We do not whine for fear;
We have cried in the outer darkness
Where was no man to hear.
We cried to man and he heard not;
Yet we thought God heard us pray;
But our God, who loved and was sorry -
Our God is taken away.

Ours were the stream and the pasture,
Forest and fen were ours;
Ours were the wild wood-creatures,
The wild sweet berries and flowers.
You have taken our heirlooms from us,
And hardly you let us save
Enough of our woods for a cradle,
Enough of our earth for a grave.

You took the wood and the cornland,
Where still we tilled and felled;
You took the mine and quarry,
And all you took you held.
The limbs of our weanling children
You crushed in your mills of power;
And you made our bearing women toil
To the very bearing hour.

You have taken our clean quick longings,
Our joy in lover and wife,
Our hope of the sunset quiet
At the evening end of life;
You have taken the land that bore us,
Its soil and stone and sod;
You have taken our faith in each other -
And now you have taken our God.

When our God came down from Heaven
He came among men, a Man,
Eating and drinking and working
As common people can;
And the common people received Him
While the rich men turned away.
But what have we to do with a God
To whom the rich men pray?

He hangs, a dead God, on your altars,
Who lived a Man among men,
You have taken away our Lord
And we cannot find Him again.
You have not left us a handful
Of even the earth He trod . . .
You have made Him a rich man's idol
Who came as a poor man's God.

He promised the poor His heaven,
He loved and lived with the poor;
He said that the rich man's shadow
Should never darken His door:
But bishops and priests lie softly,
Drink full and are fully fed
In the Name of the Lord, who had not
Where to lay His head.

This is the God you have stolen,
As you steal all else--in His name.
You have taken the ease and the honour,
Left us the toil and the shame.
You have chosen the seat of Dives,
We lie where Lazarus lay;
But, by God, we will not yield you our God,
You shall not take Him away.

All else we had you have taken;
All else, but not this, not this.
The God of Heaven is ours, is ours,
And the poor are His, are His.
Is He ours? Is He yours? Give answer!
For both He cannot be.
And if He is ours--O you rich men,
Then whose, in God's name, are ye?

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Might is right

It is always the fact that might is right
They will go on till the end to fight
They may do it with the speed of light
They have the wisdom and long sight

Small insects kill smaller one
Big also kill little one and go on
It is complete cycle of exploitation
Everybody looses in turn and in rotation

So if rich rule the scene then nothing wrong
Not all can be in race and come along
It is sheer coincidence that mighty rule
Otherwise not all the people are fool

Person with abundance can sustain losses
He may have no regret even if looses
This gives them little advantage
Rest all feel confined to cage

Once you are under domination you are bound to suffer
You may have no rights other than to differ
So poor remain poor and rich gets richer
Poor remain suppressed for times to come
Rich are dominating and always welcome

Corruption has engulfed poor and rich alike
Everybody is influenced and affected with hike
No one wants to remain as poor like
Rich too wants not to become poor and dislike

This is tendency that we feel pity for poor
We have seen them knocking the door
But it is the system that will remain forever
Even if God descends on earth it will be there

If you have same system with no discrimination
No one may work and develop alienation
They will feel free with passing of responsibility
Here comes then the end of clear and distinct ability

If you have system with loop holes anybody will escape
No one can restrict the temptation or put the cap
Only the poor fail to emerge for the want of resources
The powerful emerge and re-emerge with full force

The oppression part is little disturbing
No one can force or go on curbing
No one can be forced to undergo torture
Even God has made it very sure

The rich may have disliking for poor
Poor to may have tendency to show exit door
It has been clash of time for centuries and very old
No one can buy it or arguments can be sold

Lord may wish so for all His children
He may even grant the same blessing even
Yet that difference may remain and even if not
The needless wars might not have been fought

The human beings may create it to rule
They make use of all available tools
Rich may tackle poor and poor may tackle down trodden
As the system remains same with all the odds even

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Rich and Poor

In me a sense has felt like each,
One causes others to wonder of strange beliefs,
In a feeding are the poor,
Poor are the opposite of the Rich.

In this side of the valley,
The Rich are better at living,
In opposition to the laughter
Of the Poor.

Poor is not Rich,
And Rich carries no Wealth
Of Heavenly Times.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Very Thing That Makes You Rich

My father told me, lying on his bed of death,
"boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self
'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand
And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor
The very thing that makes her rich will make you poor"
That's right!
Well, i put you behind the wheel of a deuce and a quarter, yes i did
Had you living like a rich man's daughter, yes i did, i sure did
While you were living high on the hog
You had me down here scuffling like a dog
Well, the very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
The very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Don't you never ever make such a bad mistake
You know i'd rather climb into bed with a rattlesnake
Then to work hard every day bringing that woman all my pay
The very thing that makes you rich makes me poor,
Makes me so damn poor
The thing that makes her rich makes me poor
The very thing that makes you rich make me poor
Very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Makes me so damned poor
Money won't change it, no no...

song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oxfam: The Principal Priority Is Love

It's true that 'issues' come and go, except the vital ones...
Which tend to linger, as you know, till some start raising funds...
Poor people need to eat and drink - just like the rich folks do...
The ones that drape themselves in mink and dote on all things new...

The rich won't starve when plates are full and goblets flow with wine!
Of course, they'd say their lives are cool and everything was fine!
With chauffeurs washing limousines and servants cleaning rooms,
Yet while the rich graced magazines, the poor were placed in tombs!

How many rich guys do you meet? Not many, I would say...
How many poor guys do you greet as you go on your way?
Perhaps you give to charity... If so, God bless you, friend!
If not, you need some clarity, some focus, comprehend?

God knows if you can give or not! So God alone can judge...
God knows each blemish and each blot, each fumble and each fudge...
God knows if you will sacrifice or simply walk on by.
God knows the nasty from the nice and who will live... or die...

The baby with no mother's milk, the rich man in his bed,
The starlet draped in sumptuous silk, the leper filled with dread...
Sometimes my poems can't be sweet - they have a biting edge...
Perhaps they'll help somebody eat, if readers make some pledge...

A penny here, a pound or two, a tenner or a grand...
Perhaps this poem's just for YOU! Please lend a helping hand!
If not, the starving babies cry... the sick find no reprieve...
The dying merely sigh, 'Goodbye...' and then this world they leave...

poem by Denis Martindale
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Tears of the poor

Tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich.
Shedding of blood
Rich man's headache,
Poor men's justice.
Water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish,
Fire is the only solution
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is lover's desire
Poor men's unbearable pain.
Din is the only right choice
To put forth your demand.
Dew is the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and the king,
Morning is the 1st step
Of that poor men's sufferings.

poem by Abdul Wahab
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Tears of the poor man (alternative version)

The tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich,
Yet the shedding of blood
Is the rich man's headache...
And what of the poor man's justice?
In truth, water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish!
Fire is the only solution!
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is each lover's desire,
Yet the poor man's unbearable pain.
Making a din is the only right choice
To put forth your final demand.
Dew is but the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and their kings,
While morning is but the first step
Of each poor man's sufferings..

poem by Abdul Wahab
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The Tears Of The Poor Man

poem by Denis Martindale
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The Humiliation Of My People

my rich brother politician
is humiliating my people
poor people,
never empowered to stand on their
own feet, they keep waiting
for masters
to make them whole again
crippled, and limping
my rich brother's hand keep
pretending to take
them from the
quicksands of poverty
but i know the mind of my
rich brother whose laughter sounds like
the devil
now that he needs all of them
he feeds them and clothes them
but soon these will simmer
and fade and the truth
about my rich brother comes out
but it will be late already
my rich brother has already taken the power
and enriches himself some more
leaving my poor people back in their shanties
again scavenging for food
and begging for clothing
the humiliation will never stop
from time to time all of them shall be hailed
like those in
the Schindler's list.

but soon there will be light and music
and progress

streams of yellow rays from the Sun God
possessed with
Integrity and Truth
and Justice and
Goodness.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Little By Little

Poor man's anger rising.
The ostrich hides his head.
Soon the red blood will be boiling.
And blue blood will be dead.
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down
Poor boy sleeps on straw,
The rich boy sleeps in bed.
That fat boy fills his belly,
My poor boys's a dead,
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down.
The rich man drives his car past,
The poor man on bare feet.
That rich man do get what he wants
The poor must know defeat,
While we say.
(chorus)
Little by little by little,
And stone by stone.
Rich man's mountain comes crumbling down.

song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New movement

I can't believe! ! England,
For poverty how can She stands.
The land of liberty and dignity,
Where are identity and humanity?
The poor become poorer,
the rich become richer.
Oh bad capitalization is in top of civilization,
Allah helps the poor in every nation.
If the poverty were a man, i 'd kill
Omar 's dictum curing for the ill.
The rich must help the poor
To have no envy, make the heart pure.
We respect you! ! England,
Rising humanity, you put a hand.
We don't go to the black ages,
when people put in cages,
Where they escape in caves.
We are at the era of enlightenment,
The revolutions are everywhere in new movement.

poem by khaled Elbalishy
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The poor rich

Who is poor rich? Who is rich poor?
A lone duck among swans is poor rich.
A lone swan among ducks is rich poor.
Each circle has either of one in it.
30.05.2011

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Men Of Good Fortune

Men of good fortune
Often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings
Often cant do anything at all
The rich son waits for his father to die
The poor just drink and cry
And me, I just dont care at all
Men of good fortune
Very often cant do a thing
While men of poor beginnings
Often can do anything
At heart they try to act like a man
Handle things the best way they can
They have no rich, daddy to fall back on
Men of good fortune
Often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings
Often cant do anything at all
It takes money to make money they say
Look at the fords, but didnt they start that way
Anyway, it makes no difference to me
Men of good fortune
Often wish that they could die
While men of poor beginnings
Want what they have and to get it theyll die
All those great things that live has to give
They wanna have money and live
But me, I just dont care at all
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
...

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tax

Tax is for the welfare of the masses
That’s why more tax should levied
Upon the rich than the poor
In such a manner
So that a desired balance is maintained.

There should be no filthy rich
In a poor country
So the government should impose tax
On this people couple of times more
Than the ordinary rich.

Education tax, poverty elimination tax
And tax to rehabilitate the beggars
Can be imposed on the very rich.

The government must go for moderate tax
For the poor people
And they should not slaughter the hen
That lays egg of gold.

The Muslims should give tax properly
Since it is obligatory for them
So in a Muslim country
The government should highlight this
In order to increase revenue.

poem by Asif Andalib
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Law, Law, Law

Law

Law rules the poor,
Rich rules the law,
Every law has flaw
On poor, it is rich man’s paw,
Cases are adjourned
Witnesses are manipulated,
Justice may be delayed,
But Lawyers are survived!
Rich man predicts verdict
Poor man fails to detect
Law veiled by black coat
Penal code brooded in the court
Law, Law, Law still it is raw
Still might is right
Still justice is in dim light

poem by Mula Veereswara Rao
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Sonnet: The Rich and the Poor

The rich become richer and the poor poorer;
This is the way in which this world goes on!
Men may become suddenly rich, not born;
A rich man turns suddenly a beggar.

The few pennies are snatched off from the poor;
The brunt of taxes are but borne by them;
They can’t make both ends meet by any sum;
The rich hoodwink the taxman- their brother!

Will the world treat people alike ever?
All men are born unequally today;
Yet, if it happens, ’twill be a wonder;
No matter what you do, things happen this way.

The rich become richer not by real work;
The poor become poorer though they hardwork!

poem by John Celes
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Rich & Poor; or Saint & Sinner

The poor man's sins are glaring;
In the face of ghostly warning
He is caught in the fact
Of an overt act---
Buying greens on a Sunday morning.

The rich man's sins are hidden
In the pomp of wealth and station;
And escape the sight
Of the children of light,
Who are wise in their generation.

The rich man has a kitchen,
And cooks to dress his dinner;
The poor who would roast
To the baker's must post,
And thus becomes a sinner.

The rich man has a cellar,
And a ready butler by him;
The poor man must steer
For his pint of beer
Where the saint can't choose but to spy him.

The rich man's painted windows
Hide the concerts of the quality;
The poor can but share
A crack'd fiddle in the air,
Which offends all sound morality.

The rich man is invisible
In the crowd of his gay society;
But the poor man's delight
Is a sore in the sight,
And a stench in the nose of piety.

poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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The Damet world

Poor dog

Walking

On the street...

Rich dog

In side

The home

Sounded

Waa...wa...waa...

poor street dog

Also

Sounded...

Dog also

poor or rich...?

The damet world...!

waa waa
waaaa

Rich and poor dogs...

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Poor Can Feed the Birds

Ragged, unheeded, stooping, meanly shod,
The poor pass to the pond: not far away
The spires go up to God.

Shyly they come from the unpainted lane;
Coats have they made of old unhappiness
That keeps in every pain.

The rich have fear, perchance their God is dim;
’Tis with the hope of stored-up happiness
They build the spires to Him.

The rich go out in clattering pomp and dare
In the most holy places to insult
The deep Benevolence there.

But ’tis the poor who make the loving words.
Slowly they stoop; it is a Sacrament:
The poor can feed the birds.

Old, it is old, this scattering of the bread,
Deep as forgiveness, or the tears that go
Out somewhere to the dead.

The feast of love, the love that is the cure
For all indignities—it reigns, it calls,
It chains us to the pure.

Seldom they speak of God, He is too dim;
So without thought of after happiness
They feed the birds for Him.

The rich men walk not here on the green sod,
But they have builded towers, the timorous
That still go up to God.

Still will the poor go out with loving words;
In the long need, the need for happiness
The poor can feed the birds.

poem by John Shaw Neilson
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Are you rich?

Because parents are rich
I am not rich.
Because brothers or sisters
Or in-laws are rich,
Because own children are rich
I am no richer.
Unless I myself am rich
I cannot be rich.
Too late to understand
And hence poor I went.
Agartala