Since the day I first saw light
I was so tough and hard up for the fight
I learnt the hard way as my rule
The school of hard knocks made me no-ones fool
But whats a poor boy to do
Up in the morning before the sun
My workin for the man a life with no fun
The sweat on my back and dirt on my brow
Living each day behind the plough
But whats a poor boy to do
I was always my father’s son
Working each day ‘til the work is done
There was never a time just for me
All I wanted was life as free as can be
But what’s a poor boy to do
I vowed to myself I would not be
A dirt poor farmer working the land not free
I ran away from home at my first chance
Away from the struggle and the daily farmer’s dance
But whats a poor boy to do
I ran with a crowd that was just like me
Robbin and killin on a lawless spree
Until one day in a border town the sheriff won
And our bank robbin and murder was done
But whats a poor boy to do
The judge had a reputation so proud
Hanging was my sentence the judge unbowed
So here I am standing with a noose around my neck
My last day has come so what the heck
But what’s a poor boy to do.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Never go out on a stomach that’s empty,
Was one of my mother’s foibles.
If it’s only a salad sandwich,
You’ll ward off possible problems.
And always drink plenty of liquid
Or you’ll find you’ll run out of oomph.
She was always there to tend my wounds
(I was always hurting something)
My comfort when I was anxious,
She was my guardian angel
Though hard up, she denied me nothing.
Perhaps, looking back, I was spoilt.
But I’ll always remember her comments
If I live to be a hundred.
I could hear the cold winds blow
from the corner of my room,
I'm wrapped up in by bedding
and I feel like a cocoon.
I've been here for days on end,
shivering from the wet damp;
There's no heat that comes to me
from my small reading lamp.
How long can each winter last
is something I'd love to know;
Springtime can't come fast enough,
putting end to cold and snow.
It's hard up in these mountains
when the dry wood's hard to find;
Holes in the roof do not help,
it was just not well designed.
I know the weather will change
and somehow I will get through;
Still they never go away,
those repeating winter blues.
The cost of living is continuing to rise
With hard up family's there is no surprise.
To admit you are struggling you might feel shame
Unable to survive you hide the pain
To pay your bills is just one task that's hard to beat
The choice we have is to heat or eat.
But prices will still rise and families will survive
By tighting their belts and getting on with their lives.
P
she preferred a bulge
the one inside my wallet
now i’m just ~ hard up
By
David Kavanagh
Out of ideas? I laugh in my soup. Vegetables, taters, peas, corn.
Out of ideas? I drink my coffee. Pancakes, waffles, new ideas are born.
Out of ideas? My muse smacks me hard up the side of my head.
She twirls her pasties, and reminds me we will write ‘til we’re dead.
Out of ideas? I look at the sink. A cup, fork, spoon, tiny bug on the brink.
Out of ideas? The alarm clock goes off and make me irritated real quick.
Out of ideas? After I have given you at least fifteen in this bit of a think?
Perhaps you are not a writer; maybe you’d better be a pole dancer, slick.
The gambler was hard-up for cash
Didn’t get it, but instead got a rash
He worked up an inch
His stomach started to twitch
Money hungry, the man felled and crash
Rhoda Maverick loved Tom Mix
And cowboys keen on roping tricks
So hard-up men
Found her their hen
And all her chicks were little prix
They want to reach out through Freedom Of Speech,
contaminated minds reject and preach.
So many only see it their own way,
not on the whole,
individual points of view, they say away,
like detectives with evidence unavoidable,
but they're selective,
forget others have a different directive,
stubborn and narrow,
stick to their own and don't allow all else be known.
When explained they dismiss and moan,
stuck in their own,
minds that won't roam,
and then simplicity is there to see...….
XYNOPHOBIC, BIGOT, RACIST
accusations are thrown,
accusing horrible whilst being horrible,
not a glimpse of LIBERAL,
and this is in us all,
but some let it out like an emergency,
hard up minds let it emerge with ease,
simple minds are these, even those with degrees.
People need to learn we're free,
and free means all think differently,
if you can't accept opinions then just ignore,
because I'm sick of adults behaving like they're four.
We Had Been Hard Up
We had been hard up living in a tent,
And for all of our sins we did repent;
Garden planted;
Chants canted;
We are glad God gave us His consent.
Jim Horn
For Andrea,
My 5,555th poem.
Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both
parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard
Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you’re flush pride keeps
you from the pawn shop and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house
Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it’s there and sitting down
on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity
i hate you
into the barnyard with a high knee-jerk
a yellow duck waddles in with a smirk
it pecks the hens on the rump
Old Mac Donald named it Trump
like the president he's hard up at work
9/15/2017
I was Douglass
A good person
Better than the day that gifts a friendly sun
A humble fellow
Humbler than the trees that regard the regal ride of the
wind.
Oh, wealth
You all I desired, then
Why Playing ceaseless host
To those honest crooks
And left me waiting in the pinching rain of hard-up-ish?
Now, I'm Dog-lass
A rich man
Richer like a man who had 1, 000 wives
A smart fellow
Smarter than the chimpanzee even in its own game
I wonder if she really feels the passion in my hand
When I touch her, and in my lips when I kiss her
I wonder if she notices the pride in my voice when I say that I'm her man
And I wonder if she hear me with I tell her that I'm in love with her
And that I'll do anything to please her
I wonder if she knows that I've been watching her
And that I clearly hear every word that she says
She says that she wants the finer things in life
So I wonder if I give her everything that she dreams of
Will I really become her prince charming, her knight in shining armor?
I wonder if I brought her that rock that she wants to sport on her finger,
Send her on shopping sprees with an unlimited credit card,
Or if I took her on expensive trip across the land
Will I look like some random, desperate, hard up man
That's just trying to win her over to stay close to her
But then, I also wonder if I just simply love her with all of my heart
Without all of the material things
Would she really see me?
I wonder?
Results of Isis Actions
Why does it sound like the same old song
Isn't anything sacred which was wrong?
Like to her parents continually humiliating
What we may need is much educating.
Their darling dear to heaven she has gone
All that is left are thoughts to think upon
Daughter who every day pictures will see
Now all that we have left is her memory.
How can they appear to be hard up for news
To exhibit bodily damage and mental abuse
A new life newscasters should be getting
While on her grave sun soon will be setting.
Our beloved child is now in heaven above
Singing like a snow white precious dove
Some day soon we will be hearing her to
Once we have died and our lives are through.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
They need a category called "REMORSE."
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