Best Lower Class Poems
Some people wear baggage like a hat in church,
Still others could conceal it through a customs search!
Me? It depends on the mood that I'm in,
My frame may be thick, but my skin's super thin.
As a child, dysfunction was all that I knew.
Violence and alcohol increased as I grew
And the things that I heard and the things that I viewed,
I packed them all up with my clothes and I shooed.
And when I would meet someone, I'd try to disguise
That baggage as noticeable as my big giant thighs.
"You're beautiful," he'd say, but I knew the truth.
I'm fat and I'm worthless, and I've got the proof.
Locked deep in my psyche, but not deep enough,
Some poisonous, invisible gas out would puff.
And heaven forbid he got an ********!
My baggage was foolproof as a form of protection!
If he seemed too perfect on any given date,
My baggage would whisper, "belittle, berate!"
And so I would treat him like a much lower class
Then turn and retreat with my oversized ass.
But one day I waddled into a cafe
So weighed down with baggage every step of the way
That I knew it was time to this load jettison
So I dropped to my knees and prayed, "Help me! Amen."
The baggage still visits me now and again,
And I have to remind it we're no longer friends
I'm married and he loves me whatever my girth,
Reminding me daily I'm the fairest on earth!!!
Categories:
lower class, confidence, conflict, emotions, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
blind minions do not hear
deaf disciples cannot see
callous subzero frozen feelings
breed gibberish jarring jubilee
this bloody blind-eyed messiah
rode to town astride an ass
belching barking oratory
for an aimless lower class
a starry-eyed astrologer
alchemist extraordinaire
summoned shrouded quatrains
revealing he baffles with a flare
loitering lotus-eater
puppeteer par excellence
self-indulgent Machiavellian
pitched fabricated arrogance
adroit and ambidextrous
he summons the mercurial mass
conjuring decrees and fairytales
dictating his rules pass
lose not a bloodied hammered head
resign yourself to a running retreat
le guillotine administers
swift sweet and replete
no man speaks of that not heard
or sees that left not read
bony fingers point with indigestion
reflecting in fractured mirrors
Posted April 18, 2020
Categories:
lower class, passion, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
*People just being people.
These are the kind I want to be around.
How I deplore those putting on airs.
I like the folks whose both feet touch the ground!
Uppity people won’t hang out with lower class folks.
Some society types brag about their good breeding.
For those born with golden spoons in their mouths,
education in REAL life is what they are needing!
Fashionistas and upper class snobs on the hill
seem to think that blue collar’s a sin.
Too many people have hate for their brothers.
*We are all alike beneath the skin!
What matters the most is being yourself.
As they say, “To thy own self be true.”
So this world might at last enjoy full peace,
we must respect those who don’t think like we do!
Sept. 30, 2019 for Richard Lamoureux's Pick A Line Any Line Poetry Contest
*The title and first line are from Richard's poem: Broken People
The other line *is from my poem: A Love Letter to my Friends of India
(see Link in box above for my Love Letter poem)
Categories:
lower class, people,
Form:
Rhyme
Young Ellen Hanley caught John Scanlon’s eye
He was determined that she’d be his wife
Their marriage was cursed and Ellen would die
On the River Shannon she lost her life.
She was a beauty but of lower class
He belonged to a wealthy family
A few weeks later grew tired of the lass
She was found in Shannon’s estuary.
His servant killed Ellen a girl so young
And from a boat threw her over the side
Both men found guilty and from gallows hung
Her dead body washed ashore with the tide.
In Clare there stands a memorial stone
The Colleen Bawn she is now better known.
Written on 28 January 2019
Categories:
lower class, death, ireland, marriage, murder,
Form:
Sonnet
we think
everyone’s goal
in life
is to be happy
i don’t understand it
but for some people
it’s all about power
or just being right
really it’s about
what makes
them
happy
we have different
definitions of
what happiness is
and we’re always
surprised when
theirs differ from ours
for some
it’s to be proven smarter
crushing one’s opponents
shopping till you drop
quietly reading in a corner
eating till you burst
making money no matter how
stockpiling mountains of savings
disrespecting lower class
barking orders
abusing the weak
badmouthing loved ones
pursuit of one’s perversions
living for one’s children
pumping iron all day long
the thrill of the chase
the high of the adventure…
our happiness is what drives us all
in our very idiosyncratic ways
AP: Honorable Mention 2021, 3rd place 2021
Posted on November 7, 2018
Categories:
lower class, fun, happiness, introspection, meaningful,
Form:
Free verse
i tried to notice without noticing.
i tried to fit in by not standing out,
but i knew i was different.
their walls much bigger.
their yards much nicer.
in elementary it seemed everyone
was in the same class: lower class,
but this was junior high across town,
on white burb avenue
and i was poor.
they weren't.
of course i resisted.
i mixed and matched the clothes i had
as if i was a designer preparing
for the new season.
they let me into their world
for a little while.
i hung out in huge basements,
chilled in hot tubs with bikini clad young hotties,
taking part in all the gossip.
until my illusion wavered
and they slowly pulled back--
as my clothes got holes in them,
as my shoes wore down,
as i grew out of all i had gotten
that one time my mom took me school shopping.
goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.
years later i would remember them
at the most inopportune moments--
drunk in a dive bar in Harlem
talking to an ugly girl i was thinking about doing,
in the dirty bathroom of a crack house before i
put the pipe to my lips,
in line at the welfare office.
i think i was bitter for a while,
thinking about how they all probably owned homes
not far from each other and how they would
throw little upscale cocktail parties
around the holidays and kiss each other
on both cheeks when they greeted
but at the same time trying to stay hip by listening
to commercial rap and sexy pop music in their suv's.
yeah, bitter
drunk, and very early in the morning,
i came across a tiny neighborhood jazz bar
where a trio group had their hands
on the heads of everyone and was shaking them
to the electric sounds of their primitive instruments.
a boxing gym had less bobbing and weaving
than that jazz bar on the corner of 106th and broadway.
cats were healing up in the place that night.
my head was going ten rounds while my eyes were closed
when those girls popped up only for a second,
but they didn't fit the scene,
so for the first time, i felt sorry for them
before i forgot about 'em.
later, outside, the sign that said 106th st.
had another one below it that read
duke ellington boulevard
i stared at it, making room for a new memory.
goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.
Categories:
lower class, forgiveness, hope, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
Pushed back into a corner by what they claim her to be
They're not the same as what they claim they want to be
Stronger, they are taller by far born to rule and lead the way
She's no good lower class less than zero broken glass
Head down she looks away eyes closed as if to pray
No one listens no one cares no one there to wipe her tears
Who is she to draw a breath every one the fear of death
Must be strong have no fear eyes wide open crystal clear
Moving swiftly crouching low hang on tight don't let go
Trying hard to have a voice pushing forward only choice
Can't go back must push on fighting till the break of dawn
Face turned up feel the sun war is over battles won
Categories:
lower class, discrimination,
Form:
Rhyme
A Dog’s best friend (a Cat)
A Cat’s worst foe (a Rat)
A flying mammal that shows its presence at nights (a Bat)
A deaconess soul-mate her church (Hat)
What a girl cannot do without her (phone)
The muscular structure of your body (bone)
What do kids use to kill birds (stone)
A sound that rings on your cell phone (ringtone)
A feeling that a man and woman share together (love)
A material use by race car driver (glove)
In order to eat, human being cooks on a (stove)
What’s the meaning of this poem, just look at the title stated (above)
In mathematics one plus two equal (three)
Bunches of leaves on a (tree)
An insect that makes honey a (bee)
An angry mob chases after a thief, what should he do? (Flee)
An auditor moves up within the social hierarchy, what is this? (delegation)
The lower class, Middle class and Upper class separate themselves from each other what is this? (segregation)
Buddhism, Hinduism, Rastafarianism, Judaism, Christianity are all (Religion)
Africa , Asia, North America, South America, Europe, Oceania are Continent (Division)
A tradesman never left is (tool)
A educational institution for students to learn (school)
Apart from the beaches, sea or river where else one can swim (pool)
Do you believe writing this poem makes sense, then why waste time reading it
This means you are quite the (fool).
Demeter Edwards
Categories:
lower class, funny, class, class, ,
Form:
Light Verse
We Are One (Nigeria Remix)
Ever seen an eagle feeding like a vulture?
Dignity trampled on, where corruption is a culture?
Darkness threatens her future, cause of her shapeless structure
it’s saddening 'cause she’s been richly blessed by Mother Nature
Disunity like a knife tryna cut her apart
Of the National cake the lower class don’t get a part
There’s a saying you will reap whatever that you plant
There’s fruit of hatred ripening deep in our hearts
Blame it on the Government and the sycophants right
Most citizens do not get a fair role of the dice
Economic recessions led to skyrocketing price
Job rate inverse proportional to the rate of crime
What’s the way forward for a nation without steady lights
Mourning like every night
Late fluorescents with candle lights
Our eagles been flying lowly, yet it’s a scary flight
A thousand tonnes of honor and glory, heavy right
But you'll see everyday
That we'll never turn away
When it seems all your dreams come undone
We will stand by your side
Filled with hope and filled with pride
We are more than we are
We are one
Though different color or eyes skin hair and different faces
Different cultures, tribes, religions and languages
Different dreams and believes
Different gifts we received
From the creator, our souls embedded into nature
We are one
Flesh and blood, living under the sun
A species divinely created in the likeness of God (we are)
Precious like diamonds and pearls (we)
Put in charge of the universe
In freedom, peace and unity and the winds of love
We are bound
Though divided by rivers, streams and boarders lines carved in time,
by civilization and secession into nations we may divide
but only one God watches over us like the sun in the sky
If chords unite our land, lets create a unity band
No such thing as a perfect world, but we could make it better
The grass been turning brown, you and I and can make it greener
God disguised as fate, made us Nigerians for a plan
Our nation will be great, if we unite we will stand
...everyday
That we'll never turn away
When it seems all your dreams come undone
We will stand by your side
Filled with hope and filled with pride
We are more than we are
We are one
Categories:
lower class, peace, political, visionary,
Form:
Lyric
century later in a watery grave
souls of the elite as well as peons
float about the wreckage
boarding in Southampton
Dad carried jewels to sell in the States
I, just a teen, came along to see the sights
Dad’s money purchased rooms on the top tier
artistically designed ball room was aglow
bright lights, sumptuous food and fancily-clad dancers
in my youth, I cared naught for such things
down the stairway I flew to see the lower class
strumming guitars and telling raunchy jokes
but the joke was on me it seems
suddenly, the boat hit an iceberg
on the lower level I was trapped
screams were heard above
as passengers sought seats on lifeboats
not enough room, fear ignited
ship took on water; we felt it first
still trying to find a way to the top deck
once there, I saw Dad had left me behind
lights were still on as the boat tore in half
on the bow I stood with a small crowd
as into the icy waters we dropped
tried to swim; the sea was too cold
on my maiden voyage, much like the ship,
I succumbed as screams faded
my spirit so lively, it could not die
with 1,517 others my soul was held captive below
New York was not our final destination
Dad made it to the Big Apple
no family with him as he made his financial deal
what he earned fell short of what he lost
century later in this same watery grave
souls of the elite as well as peons
float about the wreckage, praying for release
*Entry for Tracie’s “My Heart Will Go On” contest
Written March 29, 2012
Categories:
lower class, loss, sea, boat, me,
Form:
Free verse
if we could write a scarlet letter
in a world where there is no shame
and place it on a hester prine
just to shame her name
could we find another letter
to represent the womans scorn
and place the letter on her breast
ever to be worn
what would make the woman suffer
the intended consequence
could a conscious spur a soul
into moral consciousness
could a letter change her fate
from being evil to becoming good
and with the added question
did it harm the neiborhood
are all women judged by letters
as harmfull as she
all women judged by letters
to recieve a guilty plea
and all women judged by letters
to wear this ugly blot
and never be free from the sin
that made the awful spot
hester had integrity and hester had a skill
neither man of god or judge of men
could break our hesters will
hester had determination
and hester had her pride
she was not a rat
and yet she never lied
throught the years friends turn into enemies
and foes become good friends
a letter became a decoration
and no longer a mark of shame
soon the world would learn the truth
and the truth can set you free
it's not about who they say you are
it's about who you'll be
when the world sends the letters
and they come to you as mail
don't ignore the letters
answer them very well
when the world sends you letters
through the whispers of friends
don't believe everything
said by so called friends
when the world sends you letters
judging your moral values
take a look at yourself and be honest
do you really have to?
and when the world sends you letters
about your lower class
i don't even have to tell ya, you know.
Categories:
lower class, inspirational, introspection, life, world,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
I saw a movie today
it was old and black and white
Looking for a memory that
never left my sight
An old woman quite insane
but less than fear and fright
A subject in a story called Classic
from another time and life
I wondered of her role being
of what would I requite
I'd seen the same story
told in modern lights
Her name Miss Habersham
and quite the character was she
No sooner than seeing her demise
was the ideal of what she'd be
Money distinguishes many things
even back then you see
Upper class and lower class
and understanding your degree
The Atlantic is an ocean
they say is a great divide
Customs, accents and boarders
divide in comprimise
But every story has a theme
including yours and mine
We each must find that thing
we love to satisfy
I'd never read the story
it never was assigned
But heard it's authors named
more than thousands of times
his story issues warnings
with artful poetry inside
A satisfied imagination
the ending would surely hide
The love intrest dramatises
with conflict and revelations
always the stumbling block
and unforgiving complications
Her name would be Estella
a tool of "Sick Fancy"
Miss Habershams clever device
for making men unhappy
But give away the ending
"Thou Shalt Not" comes to mind
I now know Miss Habersham
what she was and why
Categories:
lower class, 12th grade, betrayal, discrimination,
Form:
Rhyme
It makes me sick to my stomach with the lies we're fed
I've made mistakes and one day I'll lie in my own bed
It's time to speak my mind and not agree with the stuff they put inside our heads
I'm going to say it all now, so there won't be any words I never said
No child is born racist
But sadly there are toxic parents who teach their children to form hatred
There should be no upper and lower class we should all be made equal
You're an idiot if you judge someone based on skin colour and you're missing out on some great people
Police have killed too many innocent people now so stop calling them one off incidents
You sit there crying about this and that while hating immigrints
But the immigrants are willing to work the job that you refuse to do
You listen to presidents and politicians, so someone speaking the truth is new
Go ahead hate me and judge me for it
I should probably look over my shoulder as you'll want to leave me bloody for it
Well I'd rather die like a man knowing I express how I feel
I'd rather walk this storm alone than be in your coward field
You won't get to where you need to be if you always take the smallest path
Isn't it sad how people can apply for job after job and they don't call you back
These days they want a 26 year old with 34 years of experience
You'd think I was joking but I'm actually being serious
I still don't know how R.Kelly was allowed to marry Aaliyah and not get locked up
If that was my daughter I'd have turned into Mike Tyson and left that sick man Boxed up
Anyone who defends R. Kelly in anyway then you're guilty as well
But no one cared about the innocent girls, the industry wanted R Kelly's music to still sell
I'm living in a world where we don't have a voice and the poor don't matter
Homeless people on the streets while the rich share laughter
They've got money for wars but won't feed the poor Tupac said it best
I wish I had the power to change things because this world is a mess
Categories:
lower class, courage, deep, inspirational, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Strolling down the streets of ancient Pompei,
I discovered the tomb of a freed noble man;
unearthed from the volcanic black ashes,
now it blooms surrounded by fragrant lilies
as it appeared in its imperial, glorious days!
Looking closer, I noticed tools itched
on its sides, the trade of a freeman
once enslaved by his wealthy master,
and to prove that he was also of a noble
spirit, he wanted to be remembered
for his achievements and his intellect!
Not all Romans were cruel as History attests,
but had a good heart helping the lower class;
had the Emperor made aware of such generosity,
they would have been killed or thrown to the beasts!
Our greedy society is similar, workers being underpaid;
its an invisible slavery and yet it gives us shivers
for their unhuman condition and horrible abuse:
Rome's mentality of slavery survives to our day!
The proud sons of immigrants will arise to avenge
their fathers rage, they will sit with the prominent ones
sharing the same ideals and status that honor freedom!
Build my marble tomb by the shade of cypresses,
plant jasmines and lilacs around it and let them bloom;
the late image of me on the top with a pen on the right
and a notebook on the left...what a lovely display
of my vocational trade! Will someone discover my grave?
The brief epithet itched in italic letters should read:
" Born a free man and died a free man in a foreign land."
Categories:
lower class, courage, culture, education, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
“Broken Glass”
Now lay me down to sleep,
I pray the lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake.
God take my soul for Jesus sake.
My bible on my night stand
And my dream has broken glass.
My thoughts and prayers for me the lower class,
We’re walking on thick glass,
Pyrex stuck between my toes,
A vision of missed interpretation and lost souls.
Why must I have such a deep vision
When the person that deceived me isn’t in it.
Read between the lines or read between the parables,
He is giving me a sign but will I figure it out in time.
Chaos and pandemonium in my mind,
Speculation of deception is testing my temptation.
Aggression leading to no progression,
Why must I try to forget if I didn’t forgive.
Categories:
lower class, betrayal, bible, christian, deep,
Form:
Rhyme