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Best Poverty Poems

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Details | Poverty Poem |

High Bred Reality

     Soul progress
     back field in motion
The guff
     Chose, chose, live grow leave!  GO!

Leapt from heaven's gold
Jump started into a human mold

    White clapboard poverty with tiger lily blooms,
blueberry rake poverty woolen looms.

Riffs of Emerson, Whitman, Longfellow dawns,
mothers’ hazel eyes, father Davidesque form,
chosen to drive twixt a Jew and a screw.
          Magnet of lunacy...
Tumbled like an agate into the stream of life
part of the dream lesson
scream      lesson

Abuser of power, one who had once roared,
 Eve shaped now, weak and mewling
                 between the weeds of woe.
Care taken by lovers torn.
          Watched over by pedophile uncles.
Befriended by lewd Father of sons.
Adult child, searching amongst the Word
for the Word is God           and GOD …
       There are so many   words
    
Root ripped scenes from beauty to horror
Shiksa* taunts seep in with the smell of borsch. 
 A pumpkinseed amongst the pricks of Brooklyn
A wild rose planted in the asphalt soil 
     Doo-wop      ditty
Jew’s bop to a Dago harmony,
bagels, bialys and the French twisted strands 
of great grandma’s hair.
          Clipped, stripped of family shoved whole 
into yet another new mold.
      True believers,  ah yes,      fanatics all.
The struggle to survive whole healthy
dipped in, dripped in, a bath of acid and  thorazine. 
Polish priests pedal platitudes to the sisters of St. Joseph 
behind the gilded glory of the Church.

Raped by trust and betrayed by lovers,
a rose married to a prickles thorn,
so empathy is gained, and a healer born.
              Metal must be formed in a crucible of fire 
A healer can not be born without tasting the pyre.



Details | Poverty Poem |

POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH

written 25th Oct 2013


I don't know if human's will ever see
 every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
 there has to be a place for the poorest

The entire world is built up from the same level, dirt
 each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
 I am to believe "all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story

The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
 he learn's the treasures, of "everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of "richness
 seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty "as an illness

Love start's from the soul, and from there, it is taught to grow
 the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace, defining the difference in richest and wealth
 t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth 

He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
 for his wealth, is humanly "uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...




Details | Poverty Poem |

Unwed Teen Mothers and Poverty

At internet dating sites secrets are hidden
On his roller coaster of lies, Pam had ridden
Though she agreed to meet Joe in a public park
The sun had already set; it was growing dark

No families or lovers were strolling around
When Jim came from behind and pushed Pam to the ground
Pam went home and was afraid to tell her parents
In four months there was a change in her appearance

Pam left home and started living on the streets
Turning away from every stranger she’d meet
‘Neath neon lights on a cardboard box she lay
Night after night, visiting soup kitchens by day

In her eighth month she found a home for pregnant teens
As her mom endured the torment of fearful dreams
Time neared and Pam called home crying, “Mom, I’ve done wrong!”
Grateful mom said, “Dear, I’d have been there all along"

Lifting Pam up from the grasp of dire poverty
Her parents welcomed the newborn to their family
If she hadn’t made that call, Pam would not have known
The comfort she’d receive in her parents’ fine home



* Entry for Gwendolen’s “Mom, I’m Pregnant” contest.

According to Douglas J. Besharov with the University of Maryland’s School of Public 
Policy, almost half of all families headed by women under age 18 have incomes 
below the poverty line. This is almost five times the poverty rate of two-parent 
families with children. 


Details | Poverty Poem |

Children of the Valleys

And as the hills yonder 
Turned red from sunset rays
As darkness engulfed the valley
And the sweet sounds of birds
Rent the cool evening air

Our cows and sheep and goats 
Hurried down the footpath
As though they were late
To a gathering of clans
Or to one of their own

And we the happy herds' boys
Turned our ravenous thoughts
To bananas yams and milk
And all available munch-able stuff
To calm our restless tummies

And as the evening metamorphosed into night
And the stars of the sky reclaimed their might
We the famished children of the valleys
Approached the fireside with widening eyes
As the roughshod soldiers laid claim to all
And shot in the air to frighten us all.

And so we watched with pangs of hunger 
Training our wrath and rancor and dismay
To other sons and daughters of Africa
Who for reasons best known to them
Or known only to their heartless handlers
Proclaimed themselves ‘defenders of our freedom.’


Voila! Children of the valleys of Africa
And of the cities and slums of Africa
You who gather in the evening breeze
After torrid days in the fields and streets
Only to return to a darkening sky
Sans food sans wear sans light. Voila! 


Details | Poverty Poem |

Looking Down

If wealth is now your blessing,
what then was the prayer?
Avarice, its goal possessing,
yet in penury, despair.

I see them often in the store
eyes ahead, regard for none.
Against the classes, tacit war—
Modus Operandi: shun.

Vaunted compounds they do flout—
absent grasp of their chagrin—
for walls and gates that keep us out
are prisons trapping them within.

They say those vexed by paucity,
should flee to foreign air, 
for wages here of poverty
would make them wealthy there.

Thus, high above the world they scan— 
well hidden from our sight— 
discounting what the common man 
is suffering tonight.

1st Place: Sing to Me Contest

Prompted by the remark made on this topic by fashion company Nicole Miller’s 
CEO Bud Konheim. Thanks to Roy Jerden for his thoughtful help on the fifth stanza, allowing for much greater impact.

With a special nod to the song Royals by Lorde, which has a very compatible message.


Details | Poverty Poem |

Please Take The Time

So many times we see someone in need
Most walk by while they piteously plead
Plead for help that may not come
Plead for love because they have none
So many people just don't take the time
To support their fellow man
Like it's too much to be kind
Too much to give a helping hand
To someone who needs it, please take a stand
Stand up for the ones who cannot speak for themselves
Stand up for those who live their lives in hell
They need your help, you may be the one
That saves their life, think of your son
If he were in need and you not around
Would you want others to laugh at his frowns
To see him in need and lift not a hand
To help him up out of no man's land
You'd want strangers to aid him, I know that's true
But don't forget help can also come from you
We are all in the position to assist
I know you know that, but here's the twist
In helping others we also help ourselves
And that is a great reason in and of itself
It feels wonderful to help those in need
To sleep soundly knowing you did a good deed
So please when you see someone who has not a thing
Take time to help, it will make your heart sing


Details | Poverty Poem |

trust the system

footsteps aimlessly
walking on their trails
beaten down and broken
shiny as the rails
the rails of the train
over used and rusted
crumbling ignored
the system that you trusted
the silence of conformity
the quiet crying song
of people lost in apathy
monotony so long
the old man remembered
the booming days of old
and tried to warn the youngster
with stories he had told
the young man in the t shirt
can hear no warning cries
television cataracts
covering his eyes
commoners injected
with complacent misdemeanors
fed intravenously
from mass media feeders
the heretics will scream
with no one to hear their call
the working slaves will perish
society will fall
in the pulpit yelling
mystifying lies
sweating like a demon
with fire in his eyes
passing round a dish
to collect the workers' wage
saving souls ain't easy
so he sets a stage
profiting from fear
preparing them for death
comfort is a business
says his liquor breath
on the front row fanning
the woman says amen
waiting for the bell
so she can live in sin
forgiveness is a blessing
that god will give to few
surely she'll be one
when her life is through
the child in the classroom
with the curious mind
will be beaten and conditioned
until she too is blind 
"trust in the system"
is the motto that they teach
"question nothing,
so higher you can reach"
the land of the free
the home of the brave
only for those of us
content with being slaves
some will stand on street corners
holding big white signs
telling of injustice
held beneath our sights
but those who throw the bombs
which burn society down
those will be the shakers
for true freedom to be found
but the sheep still continue
to justify their life
ignoring others torment
blind to their strife
perpetuating failure
selling bankers souls
to keep on consuming
to get the best remote control
to build themselves a shield
what kind of life is this
numbness is a virtue
and ignorance is bliss


Details | Poverty Poem |

Politicians

Politicians!!!!!

It always makes me really mad
That Politicians act so bad
They wear those smiles on their dials
Although they’re plotting all the while
To make the poorest folk more poor
To make them suffer more and more
They crawl like hell to reach the top.
And then fake promises they drop.

Every price has gone sky high
The assholes say, and make me cry
‘All of us must pull together’
They’re cunning, but they think they’re clever
As they live with all their luxury
Yet put up our electricity
And our gas, and water too
They‘re an evil bunch I‘m telling you.

Our old folk, they have no heat
The cold weather they each must greet
With a blanket round them, nothing more
While leaders rotten to the core
Get everything, yes every need
They’re are a rotten, greedy breed
How I despise them one and all
These leaders heartless, hard, and cruel.

19 may 2014 @ 1002hrs


Details | Poverty Poem |

THE SCENT OF WATER

On a plane at thirty-five thousand; My mission is to the least of these
I'm traveling to the third world; I can see the forest.. when I'm above the trees

Up here there's never hunger; Up here people wear shoes
Up here there isn't poverty; Up here there's seldom blues

Up here people have families; Up here the water's pure and free
Up here no one's shooting bullets; Up here you can think and see

Up here there's lots of comfort; Up here constantly entertained
Up here no rage and violence; Up here no one's suffering in pain

What goes up must come down; This insane world spinning round
And down below the need's so great; We must love and act.. it's growing late

Down there they are starving; Down there bare and broken feet
Down there so very little money; Down there people beat and cheat

Down there are millions of orphans; Down there the water's unclean
Down there is war and famine; Down there living sight unseen

Down there little hope or future; Down there afflicted by disease
Down there rampant hate and evil; Down there they are crying please

What goes up must come down; This insane world spinning round
And down below the need's so great; We must love and act.. it's growing late

The scent of water is in the air; Oh the deep water of great dispair 
They need a drink of Living Water care; Then hope can sprout from anywhere 


*We can all do a liitle, and little becomes much when God is in it!
Date: 6-12-14
Contest: Faye's "The Scent Of Water"


Details | Poverty Poem |

BLACK STREGNTH

In believing there is seeing And a hope of understanding That black stregnth is power Of our black brother and sister put together As they carry forever As one kind of race Putting many minds in place Comanding, demanding With the most high respect And pride intect. Demonstrated: By high knee and clenched fist in the air Motivated: By a loud cheer, "ASIBASABI!" We dont fear them! Taking obstecles as they come Crying, "WE SHALL OVER COME!" 'Cause the district where they are from Is where poverty reign Being the kingdom and domain Where they'll remain And that is why I'm saying BLACK STREGNTH!


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