Social Welfare Poems | Examples


Premium Member American Word Games

They call it social welfare
when it is for the poor 
To help the ones who have grown old 
or sick and have no cure 

They scream they don’t want taxes 
and the richest scream the most 
But it is just a game of words 
they spread from coast to coast 

If it is for free lunches 
for children in our schools 
the rich say it is welfare and 
they should seek-out other tools 

But when the rich seek money 
they found the perfect way 
They change the word to subsidy 
that is the game they play 

They pay their corporate lawyers 
to fill out all the forms 
Eliminate their taxes 
and continue corporate norms 

They use the people’s taxes 
to make their projects thrive 
The subsidies from Uncle Sam 
keep billionaires alive
Form: Rhyme

The War Games

The war games
  
Yesterday afternoon in Finland, as happy people walked about
content in their world of social welfare and full employment
a train loaded with armoured tanks was seen heading for 
the Russian border as spring light danced on the lakes.
What do I know, that might be the military's yearly outing?
As the wolves howl lustily to the stars and the trout wakes
in the streams of spring.
Is it, God forbid, a strategic baiting to divert the Russian army?
From Ukraine. If so, this is a dangerous war game.
Finland has a long border with Russia, 1400 kilometres, therefore
2-to 300 tanks a drop in the forest, but enough to make a point.
I prefer to think it is a manoeuvre performed in days of light.
Form: Sonnet


The Saga of Suzanne the Snowflake and Cyril the Racist Ware Squirrel Part 3

continues ....
(for it 'twas by him that she was awoken). 
'Dont listen to hate, or give in to fear, 
He said with a countenance kindly, 
remember your Vedas and mantras, 
Let your be life be lived for the many, 
and not for the few, 
don't be led into fascism blindly'! 
With these wise, timely words in her ears she awoke, 
And said by Krishna! I feel so much better, 
I must give to the poor and buy the big issue 
off that bloke, 
the one that's got the red setter. 
Now she's totally restored to full yogic health, 
and she volunteers at the hospice on Sundays, 
'Social welfare should be funded by taxes on wealth!' 
She says now, and every Monday 
Suzanne can be found (when no one's around) 
doing good deeds, 
for strangers, 
by stealth. 
Gone is the curse of the ware squirrel, 
but, what of Cyril? 
Surely, there must be some news? 
The rumour is that he joined Conservative Home, 
And now works for Boris in Tory HQ.

Distinction Leaves Its Mark 2

Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust;
it's now a desk which seems a breach of trust.
Clothes made at home had always been a must.  
Married in the "dirty thirties" hard years 
for dust bowl folk who stayed despite the jeers.
Dependence on social welfare brought tears   
to one proud farmer.  Bills he could not pay,
he chose to join the army straightaway. 
The war years seemed like only yesterday
rememb'ring those who fought that war in vain.
Soon he would send his sons to war again; 
his daughter, a skilled seamstress, caught the train
to work sewing bags at a powder plant.
Burning her candle at both ends, my aunt
never came home; but she had made her mark; 
the candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark.


Lines 1, 9, and 16 were written by Viv Wigley
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Secret Desire

SECRET DESIRE

                                Most Handsome I found.
                                Charmed and spell-bound
                            Overwhelmed as he spoke on spirituality.
                              Adoration oozing spontaneous.
                                 He was so gorgeous,
                             Glorious, owning super quality.
                      He was a sage dedicated to welfare of humankind.
                       I fell in love! He read out my mind.
                     I knew very well, though it was a shock.
                           He will never be tied in wed-lock.

                       I hid my desire and tangling passion
                    And joined his organization on same mission.
                          Our love was a top secret.
                 We neither disclose nor wish to regret.
  
                      Our joint journey on social welfare.
                        We love each other and do care.
                      Love glazes in heavenly glare.
                        Ardent ardor on secret prayer  
   12/07/17
Form: Rhyme


A Peaceful Army

A PEACEFUL ARMY

Special soldiers went to war
Some being not so young.
Enlisted to do their duty,
But would never fire a gun.

They wore a different uniform,
Which displayed a red shield.
This was the Salvation Army
On the lines of each battlefield.

They were a different army,
And often would work alone.
A band of Christian soldiers
In a war they didn't condone.

Wherever war was taking place,
The Salvo's were always there.
Red Shield huts would appear,
With ?hop in' signs of care.

They had mobile canteens
To supply soldiers in need,
With water, tea and bickies,
Welcome refreshments indeed.

In Melbourne they celebrated,
In the year two thousand and one,
A hundred years of cuppas,
Thankful for a work well done.

The Red Shield's still in action,
Helps returned soldiers to adjust.
Continues in social welfare,
A peaceful army all can trust.

Copyright Vivien Wade 2015
Form: Rhyme

Rizwana

                       RIZWANA

 
           R ides the rough waves in positive stride.
           I nspired by her Parents,great writers and off course,Poetry Soup.
           Z ealous,sincere,tenderhearted but irritable,confused and moody at times.
           W anderer in the wonderland of her splurging thoughts.
           A dmirer of patience,dotes on decency and silence.
           N ame is angelic means guardian of Heaven.
           A lways ready to learn,age no bar,acknowledges social welfare.

















          Contest: Whats in your name.
          Sponsor:C T.
          30.11.2015
Form: Acrostic

That One

He is noticed
and
it has nothing to do with 
runny nose reminders
torn pants
or the fact that his mother is social welfare user

they see him
surrounded by the blue frame

below the picture
an issued words for rinsing out that hands

and he had flowers germinated above his hands
as possibility to be

only if 
it had been 
addressed to him

delivered from laughter
saved from desire of
finding through him it's personal complacency

the solace

those words were more needed


they could have seen him differently
different

at least

without
that rope around his neck

The Eagle Gives Chase

The common vulture shows it's greedy face
and that's what our culture must soon erase.
My countrymen, I spy, with quickened pace,
the eagle gives chase, the eagle gives chase.

I don't agree with the socialist thrust
that the government's a god we should trust.
When one has clout, a master plan's a must.
What is fair and just? what is fair and just?

Our Constitution is all but ignored,
and we have all heard the highest court's word.
In the weeks past, both "birds" have underscored -
Your vote is your sword, your vote is your sword.

Wield it with care as a soldier who's deployed
to guard our great nation from being destroyed.
Join her defense, keep freedom's fire employed.
The eagle's not void, the eagle's not void.



slamming the liberal judges,  expansive social welfare programs,  and 
the long term goal of government guaranteed universal medical care rights (that's the vulture)
Form: Rhyme

Confessions

If there comes a day
when the preacher's politicians
control the state
Phinehas will rise from his grave
round up the gays
and send them down 
to Guantanamo Bay
to entertain the Muslims.
The Kingdom's minions 
will hammer in the heads
of our tender young 
the creation in seven drub
social welfare is evil
and God's top ten rules.
Which I must say
rules are meant to be broken.
And if that day comes 
when our children must pray
and Jesus is the only way
I and my liberal 
secular humanist
co-conspirators
will be taken out back 
beaten naked and shot
for refusing to accept
that Christ died for us.
Or worse yet
sent to a re-eduction camp
to sing Cumbaya.
Unless, of course
we move to Canada.


Dean Walker

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