|Best Poems About / On MONEY
Herbie The Hermit
Herbie the hermit lived alone
because he felt he needed no one.
He lived his life meagrely
and saved his money frugally.
As the money grew in his bank account,
he began to wonder whom was he going to leave his money to.
Each day the question plagued him
and no answer came his way.
Then one day he met someone
who was much poorer than he.
He lived on the streets, as it was the only life he knew.
He would give his money to him.
However, the man did not want his money,
explaining that he had many friends
worth more than his money could buy.
They are there for me
when I’m down and blue,
picking me up again,
which is more than your money can do.
9-12 December 2010
Read more poems from David Harris >>>
Is Money Worth Having?
This is a fast and competitive world,
Where the time is money
And the man is in hurry,
Oh, mad man, money is an awful bane,
You’d know that if you weren’t insane.
But alas, it is too late today,
And money if the feeling, the dwelling and the healing,
The love, the friendship,
The life of a man.
Today the progress of your life depends
Upon the way you interact when
You have nothing at all,
And the way you manage,
When you have ‘money and all’,
People say so while I don’t believe it.
The life depends much more on the heart!
A heart and only a beautiful heart,
Where feelings can live,
And love can prevail,
And no amount of money,
Can be dominating there.
A place where no rich or poor exist,
Where money would rust and be valueless there,
I want the world to be brought over there,
And make them LIVE their life, their way,
And not be slaves of MONEY for the day.
Read more poems from Rajat Joshi >>>
On the wall of Facebook of uncertainty
your blog is written-
A Street that swirls to Capitalism.
What to occupy?
Anarchy, Crash, War, or a History?
JP Morgan, Daniel Drew, Jay Gould or the WTO?
Prairie farmers, urban workers middle sizes traders
denounced 'Money Trust';
ultimately trusted money.
Progressive Reformers charged the 'Devil Fish'
finally joined to loot the other people's money.
Working -class socialists welcomed the money street
as a transit route toward collective ownership;
It is not a Chinese wall-street
that encircled the capital
It is an American firewall that
engulfed the world in Seattle.
War came war went Wall Street is high
Capital comes Capital goes
No one can still occupy.
Because Money is Honey, Money is moral
Money can not die
Protest comes and protest goes
Wall Street erects high.
Read more poems from vidyut chakraborty >>>
At the Florist.
A Man enters a flower shop
And chooses some flowers
The Florist wraps the flowers
The Man puts his hand in his pocket
Searching for money
Money to pay for the Flowers
But at the same time
He puts his hand on his Heart and
At the same time as He falls
The money falls to the floor
And then the flowers fall
At the same time as the man
At the same time as the money
And the Florist stands still
With the falling money
With the damaged flowers
With the Dying Man
Obviously all this is very sad
And she must do something
But She dosen't know what to do
Dosen't know where to start
There are so many things to do
With this Man who's Dying
These damaged Flowers
And this Money
This Money rolling
Which dosen't stop rolling.
Jacques Prévert- Translation
Read more poems from David Holbrook >>>