Born in Lyme Regis Dorset
a palaeontologist fossil collector
in the English Channel marine bed cliffs
and a coprolites (faeces) detector
who at only twelve years old
found the first two skeletons plesiosaur
and outside Germany
that of a pterosaur
yet as a woman who did not
always receive full credit
for her scientific contributions
and ineligible to join to their discredit
the Geological Society of London
while struggling financially
for her it was no shell game
to make ends meet as circumstantially
when selling shells by the seashore
the seashore shells she sold
were her start of the first shell company
by the Natural History Museum in London I was told
With a stiff upper lip and old school tie
still it's just not cricket
but the upper crust they say
are on a sticky wicket
to pay the estate or make ends meet
they have conducted tours
of stately homes safari parks
and the family jewels
we used to go to Scarborough Southend-on-Sea
Bognor Brighton Blackpool
have fish 'n' chips for tea
but now for fifty pee we natter
with a Duchess or the Duke
for half a quid a cuppa
with a true blue-blooded bloke
as they're all skint like me and you
there's not a lot a poor Lord can do
but bite the bullet and enjoy
hobnobbing with the hoi polloi
Monkey don't love you real; goodbye...
To stay alive is a taboo,
Except you are put on standby-
Banana next to bid adieu.
Bankers don't lend you funds for free,
To uncover your house address-
Except you are up to foresee...
Trustee of good record's finesse.
Farmers don't store for long in barn;
To make ends meet for just upkeep,
Except it is of season's yarn:
Consumption awaits other reap!
Darkness does not give chance to light,
To illuminate atmosphere...
Except it enforce dark, it's fright-
Such sets in, a new stratosphere.
There’s living a life, with the wind in your face..
Chasing the sun in a faraway place.
Hearts beating wild on a mountain’s high peak..
Finding the magic that most never seek.
And then there are those in the grip of the grind..
With dreams set aside and the clockwork in mind.
Paying off walls they barely call home..
Counting the days ‘til they’re free to roam.
They rise with the dawn, repeat and repeat..
Trading their time just to make ends meet.
A mortgage, a job, and a neatly cut lawn..
While the colours of youth quietly dawn.
Yet some break away, take a breath, take a chance..
They follow the music, they live in the dance.
They barter their comfort for stories to tell..
And live with the risk of not doing so well.
But who truly wins? Who’s better or right?
The one chasing wonder, or working through night?
Maybe the truth lies in moments we give..
In finding our own way of learning to live.
So whether you wander or walk the set track..
Make sure it’s your dream that’s carried on back.
For life isn’t measured by paychecks or fear..
But by who you became on your journey here.
Cut the budget
Cut the fraud
Cut the bullcrap
Cut the lies
Cut, cut, cut it out!
Finding ways to reduce spending while spending is diabolical. Spending millions on a military parade is waste management at its finest.
What in the Big Beautiful Baffling Bill is going on?
When I was young we use to say, “Robbing Peter to pay Paul.” The “rich” are probably clueless to this saying, but the struggling people lived, know and understand the meaning of this statement.
“Robbing Peter to pay Paul” meant, taking from one to give to another. More like, taking from one end to make ends meet on another end. For example, taking some of the money from the light bill to put that money on the water bill.
Ssh, the way I see it, when it comes to this administration, it’s robbing Peter and Paul.
Stoved-up city
I’m a stoved-up man
I keep on movin’
Just as best I can
Joints are achin’
And my bones do creak
My hands are shakin’
And I feel so weak
I’m a stoved-up man ...
Do the best I can ...
I’m a stoved-up man ...
Do the best I can ...
I’m a stoved-up man
Workin’ hard all day
Do the best I can
Just to make my pay
Try to make ends meet
It’s so hard to do
I refuse to cheat
Stay forever true
I’m a stoved-up man ...
Do the best I can ...
I’m a stoved-up man ...
Do the best I can ...
I’m a stoved-up man
When my day is through
I hurry on home
To spend time with you
You’re the only one
I think about all day
I wouldn’t have it
Any other way
I’m a stoved-up man ...
Do the best I can ...
Try to make ends meet ...
I refuse to cheat ...
It’s so hard to do ...
Stay forever true ...
I’m a stoved up man ...
I’m a stoved-up man …
Let’s imitate we share it
The plan to make ends meet
Negotiating fairly
Things we don’t really need
But let’s get rid of “we”
For someone’s lofty goals
Aren’t relevant to me
And different from yours
Let’s set the sail to find
At least a metaphor
That hails a peace of mind
As it was long before
In period of time
When that Picasso’s dove
Saved lives of you and I
When peace was rhyme for love.
I grew up believing I was terrible at writing,
at least that's what everyone said.
It's ironic
Those voices in my head still holler loud
even though, in the end,
it's how I make ends meet
Working night shift out on the retail floor,
stocking cans and boxes till her back’s broke.
Trying to live on minimum wage,
eating PB and J and drinking generic coke.
Cashiering all day at the fast-food joint,
collecting tips to try to make ends meet.
A big fake smile on her make up covered face,
blisters the size of quarters on her feet.
Watching TV without cable,
talking on a phone that still has a chord.
Growing a tire around her middle,
because pasta and potatoes is all she can afford.
Walk to work cause her car won’t start,
sure as Hell can’t buy both food and gas.
So when the man says he’ll make America Great,
she says that he can just kiss her ass.
Food prices rising having to shop around no such thing as a cheap shop
no bargains to be found.
Utility bills going up do we heat or eat extra blankets on the bed
thick socks on our feet.
Ordinary people suffering the country is on its knees
the government not listening just doing as it please.
The politicians just keep smiling and say it will be alright
But it is not them freezing when the frost comes at night.
Families having to penny pinch just to make ends meet
parents going without food so the kids can eat.
SO I ask the government think about what your going to do
OR IS IT YOU DONT REALLY CARE BECAUSE IT DOESNT EFFECT YOU.
Her wings are sharp and rusty
Her might is all a musty
Tears of rust she cries
As another soul dies
Someone minding their buisness
Not in a gang just walking the street
Going home after work to make ends meet
But they met with the angel of death
One quick stab they took their last breath
A breath that could have been saved
But in peer pressure the person caved
And took the soul of young one
This time a child
Someone so meek and mild
Timid like a cat
They wouldn't give it all that
They was a child of 5
A chance to be so alive
Who else has to go
Before the law is changed we can't say so
So say no to knives
Unless you need them in your cutlery lives
Say no to peer pressure
Get keir starmer to read this poem
And how for many it hits home
Keir starmer we are done
No knives
Save lives
Her wings are sharp and rusty
Her might is all a musty
Tears of rust she cries
As another soul dies
Someone minding their buisness
Not in a gang just walking the street
Going home after work to make ends meet
But they met with the angel of death
One quick stab they took their last breath
A breath that could have been saved
But in peer pressure the person caved
And took the soul of young one
This time a child
Someone so meek and mild
Timid like a cat
They wouldn't give it all that
They was a child of 5
A chance to be so alive
Who else has to go
Before the law is changed we can't say so
So say no to knives
Unless you need them in your cutlery lives
Say no to peer pressure
Get keir starmer to read this poem
And how for many it hits home
Keir starmer we are done
No knives
Save lives
Could Not Break My Spirit
Running alone in a crowded world, I lived my life in solitude. Some dreams came true in unexpected ways. Often, I thought I’d found my true calling, yet reality unfolded differently. I existed in the sheltered confines of my truth—the road, the pain, the silent games of survival in a sometimes-hateful America. Disappointment etched on faces, three years to secure a decent job, odds and ends to make ends meet.
I recall an agency assignment: a two-year-old toddler without ears. Her white parents handed a challenge and failed to change their ways. When lunchtime arrived, they said, “Step outside to eat; we’re Jewish.” I listened, smiled, and walked away, never to return.
Racism, pain, and low expectations—I vowed that no white person would feel what I felt that day. I quit the agency, guided by my grandfather’s wisdom. Sanity demanded distance from those who’d deny my humanity.
And so, I moved forward, my black hands never again touching that white baby. For I had lived
alone, seen it, and flushed it from my mind. In this world of bigots, I stood firm, resilient, and unyielding. A bigot, intolerant of differing beliefs, could not break my spirit.
Could Not Break My Spirit
Running alone in a crowded world, I lived my life in solitude. Some dreams came true in unexpected ways. Often, I thought I’d found my true calling, yet reality unfolded differently. I existed in the sheltered confines of my truth—the road, the pain, the silent games of survival in a sometimes-hateful America. Disappointment etched on faces, three years to secure a decent job, odds and ends to make ends meet.
I recall an agency assignment: a two-year-old toddler without ears. Her white parents handed a challenge and failed to change their ways. When lunchtime arrived, they said, “Step outside to eat; we’re Jewish.” I listened, smiled, and walked away, never to return.
Racism, pain, and low expectations—I vowed that no white person would feel what I felt that day. I quit the agency, guided by my grandfather’s wisdom. Sanity demanded distance from those who’d deny my humanity.
And so, I moved forward, my black hands never again touching that white baby. For I had lived
alone, seen it, and flushed it from my mind. In this world of bigots, I stood firm, resilient, and unyielding. A bigot, intolerant of differing beliefs, could not break my spirit.
The coffee shops stand by the canal
Beautiful scenery and in flannels
All spruced up to put on the show
How wealthy they are we don't need to know
Behind the wall is a back street ginnel
With bins and rubish and people making a nickel
Some even sleep along this dark dank place
Hiding away from the human race
But those on the wealthy side do not see
The man off huts **** on extacy
Those behind the wall can but imagine
What it would be like in that fashion
They can just make ends meet
But on suburbia side its a place to eat meat
Have fine wines and no worries at all
Oblivious of those behind the wall
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