I can also say that, in my heart, I firmly believe... Since my youth, before bedtime, kneeling on my bare knees, I prayed to God. I prayed that way until I reached the age of 50. From that time onwards, I pray a bit different, but it doesn't matter, the essence is the same, and I pray to God every day. ~ Nikola Tesla
His father was a priest, believing
In the light, the love that completes us
Once they guessed
He’d be a child of darkness, depressed
Life would give him opportunities
To prove that he was blessed
Even the air seemed more alive
Knowing this soul who would indeed thrive
What he gave our world surely impressed
Penniless in le Havre.
In the time of my nadir penniless in Le Havre
in the drizzle, I saw the blue neon light of a bar
I met sailors from my country
they gave me cigarettes and wine
also money so I could take the train home
thanks to the generosity of the poor
I had a pencil and a block of paper and tried to
collect my thoughts of what I was thinking.
Found I was more educated than I thought
that is what reading a thousand books does to your brain confuse you to believe that you are better than others.
I also saw my difficulties
and the inability to live in the present.
I bought a typewriter but had no grammar, and it was slow going.
I was given a small pension, enough for the daily bread.
I have written what I wanted to write and have
in that process, lost a few friends.
The trap of selfishness is easy to fall into
it was the simple people
it was in Le Havre I met the good people
Nothing to Lose?
I’ve got no money in the bank
Can’t afford to fill my tank
I haven’t got any property
I live in a town called poverty
I don’t want to die of cold
I’m not anxious to grow old
So nuclear war sounds good
Cause there’s no Robin Hood
For once only the rich will lose
So there’s no real bad news
Do whatever you like
Before the next price hike
My larder’s running low
A nuke has a nice warm glow
I haven’t got a yacht
So I really don’t give a jot
There’s nothing you can destroy
Life for millions holds no joy
As we all teeter on the edge
Can’t afford two meat and veg
Do you understand my view?
I’ll die poor whatever you do.
David Cox 11/10/22
PENNILESS AT THE TOLLGATE
Wish I had a cat,
or maybe just a friend.
Mother says it's not the end,
but it is.
Reflections in the mirror,
inspections of the interior.
She's gone, I'm wrong,
and the soul can be so empty.
The milk is sour in the sink.
To wish, to think,
over the horizon the sun peeks,
the Blackbird rumbles then it roars.
A morning breeze or maybe the flap of wings
rustles the curtains.
Yes, it's certain.
The sky is not mine, it never was.
Hubris atop the Big Fish, a mighty serpent,
leaping over the waves, and the mermaids too,
thinking I saddled Old Screw.
I'm in the dirt, and it should hurt.
But I am empty, planted none too deep,
feeling little, a carrot or radish,
ready to be reaped.
A man without a spirit I am, I fear it.
A friend would be fine.
A cat? Just divine.
It would help pass the time 'til the end,
'til the end of mine.
There is a penny on the sidewalk,
not shiny and new,
but dull and worn,
people walk by -- not noticing,
some see it but don't want it,
others notice it but are too busy to pick it up,
but for some reason -- every now and then,
someone -- just like everyone else --
notices that penny, sees the value in it
and picks it up off of the ground.
Why that person?
Why that penny?
Often, life drops many pennies
on the sidewalks of our lives.
Why do we pick some of them up
while not noticing others?
They are all pennies, aren't they?
All of them are laying there
waiting for that chance encounter,
waiting to be held once again -- in importance,
waiting to show why picking up any penny
off of the ground is such a gracious gesture.
Doesn't that sound like a lot of us?
Isn't the story of that reclaimed penny
truly, many of our own stories?
But it is just a penny......... Isn't it?
We have graduated from many prestigious tertiary institutions,
With flying colors,
Competent and resourceful,
But we are roaming around the streets, homeless, penniless and jobless.
We have been trained,
Under the scorching sun and in the rain,
In skill acquisition
And entrepreneurship development (SAED),
But we are neglected, so we resort to crimes,
And daily marched toward the docks.
We have studied the Constitution and Civic Education,
Equipped ourselves daily
With the articles of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights,
Found out that we are the leaders of tomorrow,
A lie as old as time itself.
Since we have tasted poverty and dormancy,
And can't even say when they will stop politicking with our future,
It's high time we make up our minds,
To changelessly be or not to be,
Perpetual hungry applicants or educated and hopeless scholars.
Weightless, Penniless, Timeless Without Score
Death had spoken thus; I see you still deny,
Abides grim darkness in you, 'til bye the bye,
Weightless, penniless, timeless without score
Last gasp is endless, it echoes no more;
Fields of waving grain, stroke whispering winds
splashing murmurs of why human life ends
As if such sounds could retrieve human life,
And mortal coil could exist without strife,
Would need of this my black hand ever be
To release the horror resting in thee,
Death then took leave, promising to return
To gift me one last touch each man must earn!
I watched its dancing shadow far away flee.
Pondering what great evil rests within me.
Robert J. Lindley,
March 19th, 2015
Sonnet, ( A Late Night Conversation ) ( Words composed after reading Poe )
As long as profit is the master of one's heart penniless would love remain!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
28 February 2018
The world eats money
Stuff breaks when I have some spare
I end penniless
Penniless in Le Havre
At the time of my nadir penniless in Le Havre in the drizzle
Saw a blue neon light of a bar I meet sailors there from my own country
They gave me cigarettes and wine, money enough to take the train home
Only among the poor do you find selfless generosity
I had a pencil, and a note block tried to collect my thought to find out what
I was thinking found out I was more educated than I expected, that is
What reading a thousand books do to you, alas I also knew my limitation
My difficulty in functioning in the world we live in.
I bought a typewriter but had no grammar what saved me from go under
Was a heart attack the authorities gave me a small pension enough
To live on and the time to learn and I have written what I wanted to say
In the process lost some friends and gained some others, but most of all
I have tried not becoming satisfied when so much I see is rotten because
When you get old, it is easy to fall into the trap of selfishness.
I use to believe in love.
If I loved a person deeply enough,
if I put my all into them,
sacrificed every inch just to bring them happiness -
Perhaps, I would one day wake up and find, they loved me the same.
Where the steadiness of their breath relied on your smile,
their touch could make you shatter into a billion shimmering stars,
and they would die -
if it would only bring your happiness.
The sort of love that was unrelenting,
unconditional and solely intended - for you.
I loved someone like that,
day in and day out,
my eyes focused on their beauty like flawless crystal fractals,
my heart in pause awaiting to hear those words,
To send it skittering off like shooting stars across the empty sky,
my lungs froze in their movements,
So long I hadn't even realized I was holding my breath.
I use to believe in a love like that.
Time, has shown me that believing in miracles is for the fool hearty and love struck,
and that if you give someone your all,
you will be left penniless and homesick for a heart that does not exist.
The experts predict by 2050, we'll all live to over a hundred
A lot of us will say, nope, that's not for this old muddlehead
Ninety years seems quite long enough
When the money runs out and things get tough
And we all end up in a home as penniless knuckleheads
© Jack Ellison 2015
I didn't want to ask you and I'm feeling very strange, I've been searching all my pockets, looking for some change.
My wallet is empty and everything went wrong, now all I have is my guitar and this little song.
Now I'm feeling kind of rough, tomorrow's looking tough, I've reached the bottom of the bottle, I think enough is enough.
In a world full of riches, a palace made of gold
I sit alone with my wishes, penniless and cold.
The starving artist and the penniless poet
No respect until their death and they know it
Such are the little things going unnoticed
People walking around looking out of focus
That’s when he writes, in the dead of night
Arranging the letters until they are right
Weaving words on the page like a spider’s silt
The tangled yarn of the crazy woman’s quilt
Meticulously, the artist forges a plan
Methodical and steady is the artist’s hand
Colors and shades so carefully placed
View it once and the image cannot be erased
Imprinted deep on the impressionable soul
Diamonds being crushed back into coal
Language gushing from an open vein
Bleeding out gallons of ordinary pain
The poets maybe poor but words make them wealthy
The artists may starve but their passion keeps them healthy
A lifetime supply of scribbled down lines
Reading humanity; interpreting the signs
The starving artist & the penniless poet
Know some things that others don’t know yet
THE LAMENT OF A PENNILESS BLOKE
For want of avocation, I became a poet
To bleed my misery on paper calling for an eye,
To see me in my tattered footwear and backless shirt,
But no hear have I got even with my wildest cries.
I sought for love but that eluded me for lack of capacity,
To wine and dine in places only people in purple afford,
Ask me not to write to you as I cannot read later on write,
The tongue twisting speech style I have not learned
Of me they think I have no fashion sense.
How can I when dolce & Gabbana is a name I only see
In chanced movies with people that woo lovers and hunks.
Intelligence have I none; wisdom maybe
But that cannot lure a sensible Tiffany-ier
All I have is me; about me I cannot lie.
Copyright © July 2012. Nsamu Moonga. All right Reserved.
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