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Best Bread Winner Poems | Poetry

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Bread winner by nnoli, richard
THE BREAD WINNER by Thajudeen, Muhammad Safa
FAMILY BREAD WINNER by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
sequence-THE BREAD WINNER by Strand, Brian
THE BREAD WINNER by ray, robert

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The Best Bread Winner Poems

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A Man's Mind

Since I was Tom Thumbs
petite little sister,
the scientist used me to help deliver
the info. from the volunteer mister,
injecting me into Mr. Smith's ear canal,
with the first door appearing pretty banal,
it boasted a picture of a grizzly bear,
opened it up and heard a bit of swear words,
also thoughts alternating between 
sports, lust and making money,
you were obviously feeling kind of ornery,
had to close the door on those thoughts pretty quickly,
because the testosterone fumes were literally overwhelming me...

The second door had a picture of Winnie the Pooh,
which I thought looked adorable and very cute,
opened it up and took a peek inside,
heard some awful and horrible whining,
the mans thoughts were switching from
thinking he had the 24 hour flu, 
to thinking he had a horrible disease
and was literally dying,
and not knowing if he needed a nurse or a hearse,
I left the room baffled and got on with my research…

The last room had a picture
of Gentle Ben posted on it,
peeked inside and it was all nice and quiet,
his thoughts were all about pleasing
his wife and kids and praying to God,
there was no denying this room
showed his intimate, tender side,
before I knew it I heard some loud snoring,
the man falling asleep from sheer exhaustion…

Well I thought I'd better get back to the real world,
as I slowly crawled back out of the ear canal,
with my bag of his mixed emotions,
of machoism, tenderness, humor, mr. fix it,
mr. bread winner and some peter pan thrown in it.


Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2016


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mom and dad

mom and dad 
my all time favorite heroes 
who take on the days task 
of the everyday running 
of running our lovely home

they compliment each other 
in everything they do
dad the bread winner 
and mom the home maker
and help each other were
the other has failed

they do not show any fear
whether times are good or not 
and make things seam all perfect
even when they are not 

can not still figure out how
they managed to pull this off
cause my life is not as perfect
as they made our home seam


Copyright © sharon anena | Year Posted 2013


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BACK BITE

BACK BITE!
  -Dharga Nagar Safa

My Back,my home,
Back bone,it's roof like a camp pole
I carry my slice of bread on my back,
As a bread WINNER winning only the defeats in life,
Back bite,
With the mouth but without teeth,
The wound,no cure in health
Tell me anything to my heart,in front,
But don't back bite,
It is breaking not my heart but my back bone!


Copyright © Muhammad Safa Thajudeen | Year Posted 2014


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A Chauvinistic Ode

A Chauvinistic Ode Written: by Tom Wright 1999 In days of old, When Knights were bold, And shuddered at the thought of laundry; You could look around, And nowhere was found, A Knight such as me in this quandary; But that olden day, When Knights had final say, Was before N.O.W. appeared on the scene; Now the Maids dictate, While Knight's vociferate, It's a rock and our armor we're between. Then, young maids would shriek, As they trouped to the creek, To beat clothes between two rocks; It now sounds real sad, But surely wasn't that bad, Because then Knight's didn't wear socks. However, in those Medieval days, On her Knight she'd heap praise, Her protectorate and true bread winner; But now from work she returns, And for yesteryear yearns, Greeted by, "Sugar Plum, What's for dinner"?


Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2015


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Moon

This night fate had been decided in the moonlight
As the bread winner had answered to the doomed call-
The compulsory striker had kicked to his goal post.
This sure-bet would never miss the net.


Ere his 'lift-off', our old man had whispered
Love words, and sang spiritual songs to our souls.
Not knowing that this full moonlight night trace will gulp his gullet
And he will never babel any more on this land he keep.

Home couldn't do anything but to wonder about
And soak the floor with our tears.

What an unbelievable seizure of the soul!
Do this means our man had parted this world
And we would see him no more until the final world?

This moon mustn't go in
Before his body 's laid (down)to rest
As his faith demanded.

Should this be a bright moonlight night to spare?

Note;
***sure-bet, compulsory striker- death
***home- family
***our man, old man- Elder


Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013


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Politicians drop your security cover

Another blast
Few killed, many injured, all innocent
News put 17 nos as killed bodies count 
Who knows how living death hovers when bread winner is lost ?

Politicians are genesis of surge in terror
they are safe, with commandos and bullet proof cars
Common man is King maker on paper
Except right to defeat in elections, is he not helpless pauper ?

Politicians do us a favour
if you can't abort every attack of terror
At least, drop your fancy security cover
Who nows, given access, terrorist may opt for politicians, leaving civilian out of fear ?  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On backdrop of recent serial Bomb Blasts in Mumbai 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hitendra Mehta
July 2011

For Members contest - A POESY any theme/form By Brian Strand 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Copyright © Hitendra Mehta | Year Posted 2011


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Wonder Woman

She is a bread winner,
who takes care of her family,
is it any wonder,
she still has her sanity,
she takes any new job
like a duck to water,
she is more than likely
your wife, Mom or daughter,
working full time 40 hours
plus each and every week,
afterwards doing the chores,
the house, tidies up and keeps,
goes grocery shopping
to keep the cupboards full,
pays the bills on time,
worries about the emptying till,
will not borrow from
Paul to pay her Peter,
is stubborn in that regard,
as she steps up or down
her monetary ladder,
at times feels like atlas,
carrying all the weight,
you can tell by looking at her
she has got a lot on her plate,
thats why she looks forward
so much to the weekends,
like going on a retreat,
she gets a much needed
vacation,
unfortunately her weekends
abruptly come to an end,
and by the time she spins around,
has to start all over again.








Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2016


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IMAGINE NIGERIA

                      IMAGINE  NIGERIA.
Imagine  Nigeria,
Becoming  a  sweet  fruit
Like  my  orange  juice,
Imagine  Nigeria
With  patriotic  youths
Who  speck  truth  and
Make  my  future  look
Good,
Imagine  Nigeria
That  education  carry’s  a
Concrete  foundation,
Becomes  a  national  tool
Towards  economic  civilization.
Imagine  Nigeria
Where  the  Elders   give  me
Shelter,
As  helicopters  isn’t  only
For  the  god  fathers,
Imagine  Nigeria
My  area  without  malaria
Where  the  health  system
Isn’t  a  trap  wearing  danger,
Imagine  Nigeria
During  the  good  and  bad,
We  all  stick  together.

II

Imagine  Nigeria
Where  majority  is  happy  to
Sing  her  slogan,
Infants  carry  my  flag  high
On  her  shoulders.
Imagine  Nigeria
That  my  export  moves  round
The  world,
Without  corruption  been  her
Escort.
Imagine  Nigeria
Where  terrorism  isn’t  the
MilitarY  salary,
And  unmask  every  stranger
Within  her  territory.
Imagine  Nigeria
Where  tension  isn’t  collected
Before  pension, instead
The  aged  gather  for  happy
Recreation. 
Imagine  Nigeria
That  electricity  lights  up
This  city
Its  connected  with  easy  and
Distributed  for  almost  free.

III
Imagine  Nigeria
Where  all  my  blames  are  not
Left  for  the  leaders,
Instead, first  caution  our  nuclear
Bread  winner.
Never  curse  Nigeria
All  I  depend  is  these  natural
Mineral,
I  can  never  reverse  the
Desperate  immigrant,
Looking  forward  to  construct  a
Beautiful  new  river  on  
Another  land.
Imagine  Nigeria
When  industries  employ  my
Indigence
And  never  appoint  by  your  community,
Refineries  doesn’t  pollute  the  high
Sea  and  kill my  cat  fishing.
Imagine  Nigeria
That  farming  is  encouraged
By  modernized  planning,
Imagine  Nigeria
The  prosperity  sister
Make  big  plans  from  your
Little  area.
My  governor  isn’t  a  magician.
Imagine  Nigeria
Beautified  with  Iroko
Sky  scrapers, and	
Ordained  the  genuine  giant
Of  AFRICA.
                                                                                                                                      HABIB  AKEWUSOLA.  


Copyright © habib akewusola | Year Posted 2012


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THE BREAD WINNER

YOU COME HOME FROM WORK TIRED,WORNOUT,BEAT.
YOUR BODY ACHES ALL OVER FROM THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD,
TO THE BOTTOM OF YOUE FEET
THE RADIO IS BLARING,THE T.V. IS BLAST.
YOUR OLDEST SON WANTS TO BORROW THE CAR AND MONEY FOR GAS.
YOU GO UPSTAIRS ABOUT TO LAY YOUR WEARY HEAD ON THE BED.
THERE ON THE DRESSER,A NOTE,BLACK AND BOLD.
IF YOU DONT HAVE THE RENT YOU WILL BE OUT IN THE COLD
BILLS UPOM BILLS, A CYCLE THAT NEVER ENDS.
WHEN YOU ARE IN NEED, WHERE ARE YOUR SO CALLED FRIENDS.?
YOU GO BACK OUT OF THE BEDROOM AND PAUSE IN THE HALL,
YOU ASKED THE DEAR LORD IS IT REALLY WORTH IT ALL.
AS YOU STAND THERE AND PONDER THE THOUGHT,
YOU HELP YOUR THREE YEARS OLD OF THE BATHROOM POT.
YOU GO BACK DOWNSTAIRS TO THE KITCHEN,
THERE STANDING BY THE STOVE,ON HER HAND A POT HOLDER GLOVE.
IS THE REAL BREAD WINNER,YOUR WIFE,THE WOMEN YOU LOVE.
FROM THAT MOMENT ON, YOU KNEW THE ANSWER FROM THE HALL.
YES DEAR LORD IT IS REALLY WORTH IT ALL.


Copyright © robert ray | Year Posted 2008


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THE BREAD WINNER

They found the bread first,
To joy,arranged a contest next,
Rewarded the winner this,for his breakfast.
That's how the word bread winner came in the list!


Copyright © Muhammad Safa Thajudeen | Year Posted 2015


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Bread winner

bread winner
we enjoy the beef
but the cow pays 
the price 

bread winner
he fight like a lion
work like an elephant
despite he could earn alot
or little
yet he eat like a aunt
cos alot of mouths he 
got to feed 

bread winner 
his life is full of responsibilities
his head thinks alot
he got not alot time 
to rest 
always he has to work
cos 
as money comes
money goes

bread winner
he is a sacrificial lamb
he is the hope of his family
he is a pain relief
to those he looks after
he works so hard 
to put food on the table
under the rain 
under the sun 
he is never relentless
what a soul 

bread winners?
respect to all 
hard working poeple out there
keep up 
your are a blessing
to humanity


Copyright © richard nnoli | Year Posted 2017


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To you A whole

I can’t say it yet, but I will
When I can effect you and instill 

My mind and emotions you destroy
Like a soul you own. Like a toy

One day I will defeat you!
Punch, kick, and beat you

The bruises and cuts sting right now
I want to get you away, but how?

All I hear from you is pain and torment
It is a waiting game for the one single moment

Learning hate and dismissal with indifferent tones
While I sit in a bed weak and alone

Brings me to my resolve and what I must do
Get ride of the demon and *** whole in you

My days of suffering come to an end
When I make that phone call and bring you in

Relief in the eyes of my mom and brothers a real
We made it through this whole ordeal

Most of all I except the role you failed and didn’t deserve
Bread winner in a house that can finally be heard!


Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2007


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I am

I am a strong brother with pride look as I walk  with my head up and my slow stride! You
know I look good! I see you checking me out and checking me out again! Saying you don't
notice me as you pretend!But I can wait but not for long as the seasons passed and ends,
you know I'm gone! I'm a brother with confidence ! I'm a single dad with two kids,I'm
night school student and a bread winner of a family of six just trying to get by! So don't
be quick to judge. You say you know me but you don't! Even to go out with me you won't. My
strength as a brother comes from not what you see but what comes from me. The
understanding of who I am and where I am going! I can give you my body, I can give you the
world or I can share my life with you.What do you want?


Copyright © Curtis Nicholas | Year Posted 2011


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AM ENSLAVED BY LIQUOR

       AM ENSLAVED BY LIQUOR
The bottle had become my friend and companion
When the sun rises I stroll to my favorite drinking salon
Leaving my wife and children in bed to quench my thirst 
And spend my monthly salary on my best hobby drinking
Till when i feel that I have bought all the patrons a drink


My children are better sitted at home
Than wasting money educating them
My boys are better at rearing my herd of goats and cows
While the girls can assist their mother in cooking and doing home chores
While I their father can drink and do my usual routine; drinking
I

I abscond from duty because I can’t miss to drink
My work mates remind me to resume work but that’s is none of my concern 
As long as I serve my precious master the “bottle”
If am not the one to leave last the drinking joint last am not faithful
So I make sure I leave last 

Now am sitted all alone at my veranda wasted
Having become a laughing stock by my village mates
I had turned into a greedy father and bread winner
I failed to provide for my family needs
I gave up on educating my children
My wife had to endure regular beatings and insults from me
All this I did under the influence of alcohol
Not knowing that my family was being ruined.











Copyright © MWESIGWA MICHAEL MICAFRICA | Year Posted 2013


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Cruelty

What is God’s Love and his great Compassion?
Why it is only for some and why it is ration?
This morning I was so perturbed
When I was going through the words of a local news form
Some had to call the authorities it had reported
When they got a stinking smell from a house near by
Police had to force open the door, had to enter with masks
They heard a faint voice from a gloomy room inside
Found a weeping old lady beside a dead malodorous body
 “Wake up my son. Why don’t you open your eyes?
Here I have brought you some rice.
So wake up my  little love.
See officers! please ask him to have this food
Without torturing me this much”
It was a nonstop pleading the officers had to witness
The old lady was holding a plate with few biscuits
Which she had collected from dustbin it said
The woman is insane!
For a long time neighbours  had claimed
They had been living in that house
No outside world had reached their eyes
Once she had been extremely rich 
Leading a luxury life with ultimate joy, it added
Fate had turned a cruel face, they were told
After her husband’s death, her sole bread winner
The old lady had no one’s help
All their money had been robbed by her loving relatives
Finally she couldn’t sustain her courage it seems
Left with crippled from birth, a bed ridden only relation
The body whom she was holding, was her beloved young son.
How can the world be so cruel?
Where is God? Why no mercy upon some people?
If the World is created by Him why people suffer so harshly?
Please don’t judge me or my faith dear Soupies
I am so shaken you see




Copyright © manel gunatillake | Year Posted 2013


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Words left Unspoken

His days drag on, nights routinely the same.
Work and kids consume his time none left for the game.
With all his responsibilities, he needs none of the drama.
The bread winner, the daddy, and now even the momma.
Being what his little ones need
His desire is what he has no time to feed.
Cant invest what is required to have a regular chic.
Tired of playing with his own dick.
Out of his overstressed lips, passes a long drawn out sigh.
She steps out of the shadows smiles and says hi.
He looks down and sees a lady her curves are pleasing.
Thier eyes meet and he can see already shes teasing.
Not one single word or even a whisper,
You can feel the air heat and become crisper.
From the sway of her hips to her exposed flesh
It wasnt long and it was thier bodies that meshed.
Afterwards exhausted and totally drained.
He reaches for her but only her scent remained.


Copyright © Rose Henderson | Year Posted 2015


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FAMILY BREAD WINNER

in our house
there's no mouse
its dream
and its clean
there 's those who work
so there's no drit
and we are alert
some was sinnerS
now theyer the
FAMILY BREAD WINNERS


Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2012


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Buried Alive

Buried Alive, 2010
V. Ortiz Vazquez


House play with a neighbor friend
Older than I is he, yet not old enough
Husband and wife, house wife
Bread winner comes home
Home, field between houses
Time for bed, naked from the waist down I lay
Caught, I’m to blame
Shamed with no explanation
I should have known better
Older than I is he, yet not old enough

Locked inside, exposed to me
High schooler, teenager; younger I am
Adult act becomes mine
Young I am, no stranger is he
Salty, whitish, I don’t understand
Shamefully I lurk around, searching without understanding
Finding similar, no teenager an adult

No teenager is he, still young I am
Sled to the side, incognito a touch
Finger nail’s cut
An excitement unforeseen
Unexplored essence exposed to me by his touch
Tragedy

Blamed, shamed, grounded
Who is to blame?
Trinity: him, you, they
Should have known better, Female I am
One forgotten, hazy memories, not even his name
Second not seen for years, learned of recent lost—grandpa dies
The other, seen by occasional visits
Declining health, prostrated to a wheelchair
Life’s move, checked yet not checkmate	

Here I stand, age 33
Foggy days, shatter pieces
Lights out
Checkmate since childhood
Life cut short
Living without breathing
World’s brightness taken away
Shifted to black and white
Muted
Silence my home
Distance my protection
Youngster, buried alive


Copyright © Vickie Ortiz Vazquez | Year Posted 2010


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sequence-THE BREAD WINNER

In
the wind,
sweet music
of ripening
wheat-
an
echo
of harvest-
repeated each
fall


Dedicated to Norman Borlag (Iowa born farm boy) 1914-2009 Nobel prize 1970 -developed 
the new high yielding wheat strains


Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2009


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The colliers son

 
 
Mother and three siblings to keep,
bread winner, man of the house,
at pit head, down into the deep,
to extract coal like a sucking louse,
 
twelve hour shifts, morning to night,
water to drink, jam and bread,
working in poor artificial light,
coal miners life until he's dead,
 
thousand feet down, four miles along,
on man rider to coal face,
sound of mind, with arms so strong,
essential to keep up the pace,
 
with pick and shovel in hand,
now at the sharp end, damp hot,
more coal employers demand,
this hard life is a miners lot,
 
miners blood flows through his vein,
coal the centre of his soul,
buried Ancestors down pits remain,
reaching retirement his goal,
 
from a sunless place,he emerges, 
moleskin trousers, dirty shirt,
gassed canaries, in cages,
aged fifteen, an inherited convert,
 
his hands are rough and beat,
grime ingrained into palms,
his fathers boots on his feet,
miners lamp, full of charm,
 
head to toe covered in slack,
survived another day young lad,
colleague to scrub his aching back,
thoughts of dead, especially his dad.


Copyright © Roy Pett | Year Posted 2016


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A Horny Walter Mitty

A Horny Walter Mitty

Her plunging neckline drove him
to want to sink his face deeply
between her bulging  firm breasts,
but his wife would never let him.
 
She kept him from living the lifestyle that 
he always fantasized about.
 
Unfortunately, his wife was extremely
devout and built with a very stout form.
She was always the bread winner of their
household.
 
If she wasn't, he'd find himself between the slender thighs  of many buxom brunette 
beauties.
 
He once got laid by a sultry red headed, 
french maid while zoning out during rush 
hour to his wife's prison tower.
 
This poor man had absolutely no power
or manly backbone.
He crawls home every night like a baby coward.
 
Maybe one day she'll die or he'll nerve up and
leave her.
 
Until then, he'll have to dream of a team of
Russian blonde bombshells, scantily clad
to serve him vodka shots on their tanned and toned bodies before dinner.
 
He smiles a devilish grin,
for he secretly enjoys being a sexy sinner.
He is pleasantly pleased and well satisfied 
to be the sole winner of his own household.

 




Copyright © Marie Harrison | Year Posted 2010


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REMEMEBER DAD

he mabe a sinner
but  the bread winner
there when you call
hes over you all
if having a ball
be glad not sad
and
remember
DAD


Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2014


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FAMILY MAN

you know who you are
your the family star
the bread winner
mabe at  time a sinner
what you say stands
if you're a
FAMILY MAN


Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2012


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Day Of The Fathers

D-ay of the fathers 
A-llows the children to greet; 
Y-es, let's love all dads who make both ends meet. 

O-ld or young male parent deserves the kid's respect; 
F-athers all over the world want a family's future perfect. 

T-he bread winner does all he can, 
H-e works day and night; 
E-arly in the morning, he toils neath the sunlight. 

F-ruits of his hard labor 
A-re enjoyed by his loved ones; 
T-ill he breathes his last, 
H-e will never tire even once. 
E-veryday of the week, 
R-egard to them really matters; 
S-unday eighteenth of June is the day of the fathers.


Copyright © Bernard F. Asuncion | Year Posted 2017


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FINALLY FOUND HER

She held a face up and it was price beyond and her presence eases everything around
God knows, 
I consider it a blessing knowing her and a triple blessing now dating her
Her heart is precious and soft but unbelievably strong at the same time like Lara Croft 
There is no doubt about my imperfection but her patience gives me a course to revolution 
She is more to me than she thinks; she's my bread winner and I didn't buy bread to win her
This proves that her love is true; and more than she knows, she teaches me to love true
Sometimes I feel like i was sent to the place I find myself just to find her because of my growth since I met her
To be FRANK, she has the KEY to my heart and not to be a JUDGE, no one holds it better.
She eases my heart and puts it to rest with just a smile
But when she is the cause of its race, it sprints a mile
I guess some parts of my happiness, I owe it to her
I don't have to tell her this, cause it would reveal a scar
Never been a fan of exposing my vulnerabilities and weakness 
But I can trust her enough because her heart bears witness
Sometimes I regret it and wish I never shared these feelings
But they now trump the thought that once dissed feelings


Copyright © Bobbiy Danielz | Year Posted 2018