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Poems On / About POVERTY  1/30/2015 12:30:32 PM
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For noble minds, the worst of miseries,
Worse than old age, or wearisome disease,
Is Poverty. From Poverty to flee,
From some tall precipice into the sea,
It were a fair escape to leap below!
In Poverty, dear Kyrnus, we forego
Freedom in word and deed, body and mind;
Action and thought are fetter'd and confin'd.
Let me then fly, dear Kyrnus, once again!
Wide as the limits of the land and main,
From these entanglements; with these in view,
Death is the lighter evil of the two.
Theognis of Megara

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Awake to Work


Evenings of Laziness
It's a morning of strength
With the pride of my hands
Smiles on my hope
And joy to my prayers
Hello long held poverty
Greetings from the mind
Your days are out, so rest in Pieces

A lot conceived
By the mind and friends
A lot to be done
Money could be a limit
But hope will overtake
Via roads of effort

Drops of sweat
Count notes of money
An hour away
From gossip and sleep
Is a seed sowed
If spent so well
Is a step ahead
And a chain broken
Away from poverty

God is so wise
Fair and nice
Gave each one minds
And brains to each
Sits behind to watch
Those who think and float
Working day and night
As others keep tacked
In wishes and sleep
For rains of money
Fearing cats and dogs
For bringing too cold mornings
To go out and work

Success the house
With walls of hard work
Not hard core this time
Plus barbs from laziness
A chain-link from sleep
To keep the lazy away

A rich man's bed
Always looks new
Clean and feels cold
A poor man's bed
Warm like a camp fire
Old beyond age
With bedbugs of poverty
Feeding on their master
Sentamu Aziz

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I hate peace on the lap of poverty

Although I am made up of simple mud,
Yet I am not simply dried brick-a fire thud,
I'm brick of poverty furnace traveler,
Rain can't weaken me, can't destroy me,
Rain makes me strong; I am rain absorber

Kiln of life for me; the dusty rusty clay's boon
I am not so excited; I do not swoon, so soon
I need more rain, more rain to sock and sock,
Hardness: to bear life's ugliest joke without shock,

I hate peace on the lap of poverty
Day and night cannot walk together
Eradication of poverty is the liberty
I know puppet dance; don't teach hereafter?

My laugh is the dirtiest spit on your cruel face,
My laugh is but giggle from the wriggling mind
Of mine, wiggling whisper from heart to mind-find
You have made hell to this earth with boldness-confess

Ney! Heaven's sake, don't preach peace- no, no,
Truth can't be described with lie -please go, go,

2014 Aftab Alam Khursheed. All rights reserved
Aftab Alam

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Everyone of us when gone has a legacy
That people remember in one's memory
Just like my Father who joined the Almighty
Leave me a token of his great personality.

My father sacrificed for my dear education
In spite of poverty he gave all the provision
I need to finish my degree and profession
Without any complain or simple hesitation

My father never wanted us to walk his way
Only to finished even just a lowest degree
For he didn't want us to suffer so heavily
The burden of being a child of great poverty.

My father had to work as a student janitor
Cleaning, sweeping and doing other chore
In exchange for a free tuition from the school
Where he graduated with citation and honor.

He showed that poverty is not a malady
When we are truly convicted to be somebody
When we desire to make life better everyday
and when we dream to have a better destiny.

He taught me to be always humble to others
Specially before God who protect us from curse
For those who humble themselves have reward
Not maybe in our earthly world but there above.

Read more poems from MELVIN BANGGOLLAY >>>
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Poems On / About POVERTY