He thinks post nor prior, poor man’s married,
He looks but sees no more, poor man’s married.
Late from office and empty-handed still,
Now catches up with chore, poor man’s married.
Get up when told gets up, sits when so told,
If he’s voice he’s not sure, poor man’s married.
A curse can be no worse, she sure can be,
Lifelong stuck to her shore, poor man’s married.
E’er since he put salt in tea, not sugar,
No tea could he savour, poor man’s married.
Heavens, whose hair have ye brought here on shirt?
Thank god that it was her, poor man’s married.
For long tied to tether, ever unsure,
Ensnared inside his door, poor man’s married.
______________________________________________
Ghazal |13.04.2024| husband, humour
Poet’s note: Based on a Gujarati Piece by Raksha Shukla (no translation). Such tongue-in-cheek light versions of humorous ghazals are known as Hazals in Gujarati.
The rich man had one reason to smile,
The poor man only had a million...
‘I leave am for God’
Is the poor man's prayer
When he submits to higher realms
Transferring judgement to higher forces
The answer to that prayer is often terrifying
When you take another for granted
Trampling on another because you are advantaged
Usurping communal wealth because you are in charge
Bleeding the flock you are supposed to pastor
It is the poor man that bears the brunt
Don't fall a victim
How terribly and awfully English was he
Stopped everything for his afternoon tea
Crumpets for his breakfast covered with jam
Sandwiches for a light lunch mustard and ham
He lived in a mansion in the country somewhere
Butlers to dress him and barbers to cut his hair
A rich man was he not particularly pleasant
Out each day shooting for game and pheasant
So onto dinner he would have some beef tonight
Had to be cooked just so and served just right
While the poor man sleeps in a shop doorway
This rich man was living more than okay
He hasn't done a days work since he was born
Enough to make one feel anger and scorn
Doesn't give a damn for the plight of the poor
If only he did he'd be a better person for sure
TINKER A RICH MAN--A POOR MAN
how you a rich man
and you got a mortgage due
shouldn’t you be through
what you want to give
and why is it’s hard to live
shouldn’t you be true
I am a poor man
and I can hardly stand here
make it on my own
you’re torn and bitter
sworn to deliver nothing
must you pay taxes
difference tween a rich
man and a poor man is this
poor pay more taxes
and if the rich don’t
be very careful it’s hard
getting in heaven
a rich man a poor
man whose more likely to give
a hand downtrodden
12/21/18
Tinker, Taylor Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
She tinkers change someone left on the table
waiting for brunch at the Bluebonnet Bistro,
a hole in the wall with thick on the windows.
Lost deep to thought, this rock ‘n roll liberal
in her mid-twenties and sage satin stole,
pockets a penny that weighs down the satchel
strapped to her shoulder and swung under table,
asway just above cherry red laced stilettos.
From a corner booth table, a sitting man stares
an impertinent stare at her pendulum satchel
and long dangled legs that sway to a torso
wrapped tight in proof of a Wolf Parade show
back in twenty fourteen - unable to go
back down below where he yearns to obey
all known from each of each one of her toes.
12/20/2018
A poem about the diminishing return of memories as they're reduced and bid bare by time using an abbreviated variation of the sestina form.
Rich Man, Poor Man,
Beggar Man, Thief.
A Soldier, Sailor,
And a Tinkering Taylor.
All shelter me
From this intolerable grief.
Rich Man, Poor Man,
Beggar Man, Thief.
A Soldier, Sailor,
And a Tinkering Taylor.
All shelter me
From this intolerable grief.
The Poor Man
The Savior came a walking down a long and dusty road
when a poor man He saw walking alone
He said to the man
“Follow Me My son, and I will show you the way to My home”.
The man said to him in complete amazement
“I have no money sir, how can I repay this great loan”?
The Savior answered in such a warm reply
“Don’t worry My son; I want to make you My own.
The Savior placed a ring on his hand
and His own robe He placed on his back
and then ordered sandals for his feet
and bread and lamb for him to eat because the man so much did lack.
This poor man started to cry and the he said
“No one ever wanted me, why sir, have you done this marvelous thing”?
but then added with a grateful heart
“I will praise Your name throughout eternity”!
It is the poor of this world
God chooses to share such dynamic faith with them
and smiles upon them tenderly
when such love they return back to Him.
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
1994
These words I write could not explain
No could it hide my shame
Why does poverty have to bear my name
How I wish, I was born into the house of fame.
Maybe then I wont be so ashame
In Poverty there is no one, I can blame
How I try not for things to remain the same
They say, I should proclaim, I should aim
But they do not know my pain.
I do not want to claim
I hide away in shame
Yet they still choose to blame
All this aching has me shaking
Why can't they see, I am tired of always failing.
I am falling
God knows I am breaking
My heart is aching
Poverty has me shaking
I need something groundbreaking.
Anything to make me start believing
I need to believe things would be changing
God please do some ex-changing
Right now I can do with the hand of SAVING.
Poor Man On A Bike
There is a viral photo of an Indian/Bangladeshi on a bike...
With 5 little children and his bedraggled suffering wife....
They all are seated on the bike, one kid seated up on his neck...
Another was sandwiched between him and his wife seated behind.....
Another kid was seated precariously on the handlebar of the bike...
One child was seated in the front basket to sandwich his kid brother against the father...
You and I, we see a poor man on a motorbike..
We shake our heads and wondered inwardly how they survive....
For the poor man, his children are his wealth....
With blessings from God above, he will be alright...
Yes, for the present he suffers to provide...
But over the passage of time, his many children will prove him right...
The poor man knows, it is a challenge to provide for his large family...
But when they are grown, they are priceless assets he owns...
For the poor man and his wife, his children are God given assets....
His duty is not to moan and groan why, his is to provide and survive....
Heavens on earth comes later when all his kids are grown...
For the present, he is just another Poor Man On A Bike....
Hohoho....
Once you betray a poor man
(His state may not change though),
Your heart is started to be called his kind.
If you had to live
the way I do,
then you too would
feel sad and blue.
To have so little good
and so much bad,
would leave absolutely anyone
feeling down and sad.
If you had to live my life,
even for just one day,
I'd understand if you turned to God
and got down on your knees to pray.
I can tell you how it is
and you'll nod in sympathy
but not until you've lived this way....
Will you understand how it is for me.
If I could make you live my life
and give you what I've got,
you would spend your days rejoicing
and all your misery forgot.
If I could make you
have as much as I do,
you'd grin from ear to ear
all day through.
If you could live my life
even for just one day,
You'd be thanking God,
for blessing you this way.
I could tell you how it is
to live with such wealth
but you'd never understand
until you've lived it for yourself.
H
The poor man on the street
With threadbare dress and blistered feet
'Tis his slogan, he howls,
"I feel hungry, my stomach growls."
The rich man sits to eat
With silken dress and stockinged feet
Tells after his plateful,
"I'm not hungry, my stomach's full."
The poor man sits and begs
For some leftover food and dregs
In his poor broken bowls,
"I feel hungry, my stomach growls."
The rich man's enjoying,
He's had his three course meal full swing,
Says, "I've had plentiful,
I'm not hungry, my stomach's full."
He'll never understand
(He's not hungry, his stomach's crammed)
Why that poor weak man yowls,
"I feel hungry, my stomach growls."
---------------
19.11.16
Saturday Night
in the township of Zithobeni
the poor man
screaming again
beging for his life.
The poor man love
larking,but this time
he was attacked by hyenas
filled with anger and ego
to split blood
like vampires.
The poor man was assaulted verbally.
Through the window
I saw the whole
incident,the poor man
is lying in the
pool of blood
and,his flesh is
torn apart like
ripped jeans.
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