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Poems On / About POVERTY  3/5/2015 12:42:18 PM
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Best Poems About / On POVERTY
 
 
 
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  41.     

O' Murderous Poverty

O' poverty, thou hast made man prostrate his soul for repast
Thou hast made him swallow the bitter pills of living
Yet thou sing songs of death to his hearing
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.

In thy bosom cometh suffering, pains and sorrows
Thou taketh delight when the world's burden heaped upon man
Man toil in vain for subsistence from sunrise to sunset
Yet thou castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.

Man roams about the street with no shoes for his feet
And with no vest upon his already worn out bones
Having his repast from the table crumbs of other folks
Not certain of where the next crumbs of survival cometh
Yet you castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.

His offspring sick and pale then die ere his face
His heart become a place where dirge and elegy meet
And he ask 'Poverty, why thou puncture the tube of my happiness?
Why art thou the architect of man's sorrows and grieves'.
Yet thou castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel, cruel, cruel even fiend.
 
LIGHTCHEERFUL BRIGGS

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  42.     

Poverty

To get a card of
Below poverty line
I have to spot a person
Who has a link with Maoists.

Some says the head of the
Government, of the state
Is the leader of Maoists.
Catch hold him, other pleads.

Who is poor and
How far he is in poverty
I am not here to measured
Or I am not here to explain or
To eradicate poverty in any way.

The leaders are
cheating the poor
In the name of poverty
And functioning of the
Government is going,
As you know.

To get a card of
Below poverty line
Is to rebuild
The government and
You must agree with
The rich with luxury,
In the name of poverty.
 
gajanan mishra

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  43.     

Poverty Grass

Wild horses we
Pricked at the wind,
Never to know, alas;
That all the lord of our fortunes bought
For us
Was poverty grass.

Poverty grass
The paupered seed
So sickly poor, alas;
The souls of the great untamed grow weak
Despair
On poverty grass.

And you, my friend,
Grew sick awhile,
And cried and cried, alas;
While I grew fat on a flowering weed
Called pride
And poverty grass.

And when you left
The field to me
I almost died, alas;
For I was left in a fallow field
Piled high
In poverty grass.

Wild horses we
Pricked at the wind,
Never to know, alas;
That all the lord of our fortunes bought
For us
Was poverty grass.

24 January 1980
 
David Lewis Paget

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  44.     

Ode to Poverty

poetry in progress

i have seen poverty
climb stairs to make
that morning paper
available at the top floor

i have seen poverty
climb stairs to sell that
wrapped tied farm chicken
quiet and bowed,
in a one star hotel
a sinewy woman waiting
for the chance of her dawn


i have seen poverty light
oil lamp in the dead of night
with the hope to leap from rags
to cosier enclave through
pen and ink, alphabets,
arab numerals, mind spinning algebras,
logarithms, and medical lexicons

i have seen poverty
take men across turbulent seas
oceans, to strange lands
to make money for home
thousands of miles away

i have seen poverty sweats
from dawn till dusk
under the tropical sun
smoothening highways,
coating multi-storey buildings


i have seen poverty
sank trespassers of seas
who have sold every penny
with the hope to reach the
land of their dreams and opportunities


i have seen poverty
hops onto beds with strange men
with the hope to take
some dollars from them
to feed starving
children at the slums

i have seen poverty carry
a senile Chinese woman on
shoulders up a famous hill resort
she to admire her honeymoon spot
he to put meals on the table
for mom and dad, brothers and sisters

i have seen poverty gulp
men and women in the seas,
throw them helter skelter
in a murderous web of human
trafficking and slavery

i have seen poverty turn
graceful beautiful maidens
into thin, nerve wracking
frames, wrinkles and flesh
driven to the edge of existence
 
john tiong chunghoo

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