For the Poor

Related poetry:

1. To A Poor Old Woman munching a plum on The street a paper bag Of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good To her. They taste Good to her You can see it by The way she gives herself To the one half Sucked out in her hand Comforted A solace of ripe plums Seeming […]...
2. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
3. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
4. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
5. The Verdicts Not in the thick of the fight, Not in the press of the odds, Do the heroes come to their height, Or we know the demi-gods. That stands over till peace. We can only perceive Men returned from the seas, Very grateful for leave. They grant us sudden days Snatched from their business of war; […]...
6. The Joy Of Being Poor I Let others sing of gold and gear, the joy of being rich; But oh, the days when I was poor, a vagrant in a ditch! When every dawn was like a gem, so radiant and rare, And I had but a single coat, and not a single care; When I would feast right royally […]...
7. The Poor Children Take heed of this small child of earth; He is great; he hath in him God most high. Children before their fleshly birth Are lights alive in the blue sky. In our light bitter world of wrong They come; God gives us them awhile. His speech is in their stammering tongue, And his forgiveness in […]...
8. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
9. Hymn 74 The church the garden of Christ. SS 4:12-15; 5:1. We are a garden walled around, Chosen and made peculiar ground; A little spot enclosed by grace Out of the world’s wide wilderness. Like trees of myrrh and spice we stand, Planted by God the Father’s hand; And all his springs in Zion flow, To make […]...
10. 1887 From Clee to heaven the beacon burns, The shires have seen it plain, From north and south the sign returns And beacons burn again. Look left, look right, the hills are bright, The dales are light between, Because ’tis fifty years to-night That God has saved the Queen. Now, when the flame they watch not […]...
11. Psalm 16 part 2 Christ’s all-sufficiency. How fast their guilt and sorrows rise Who haste to seek some idol-god! I will not taste their sacrifice, Their offerings of forbidden blood. My God provides a richer cup, And nobler food to live upon; He for my life has offered up Jesus, his best-beloved Son. His love is my perpetual feast; […]...
12. Poor Marguerite Swift, o’er the wild and dreary waste A NUT-BROWN GIRL was seen to haste; Wide waving was her unbound hair, And sun-scorch’d was her bosom bare; For Summer’s noon had shed its beams While she lay wrapp’d in fev’rish dreams; While, on the wither’d hedge-row’s side, By turns she slept, by turns she cried, “Ah! […]...
13. The Poor Singing Dame Beneath an old wall, that went round an old Castle, For many a year, with brown ivy o’erspread; A neat little Hovel, its lowly roof raising, Defied the wild winds that howl’d over its shed: The turrets, that frown’d on the poor simple dwelling, Were rock’d to and fro, when the Tempest would roar, And […]...
14. The Poor Man's Lamb NOW spent the alter’d King, in am’rous Cares, The Hours of sacred Hymns and solemn Pray’rs: In vain the Alter waits his slow returns, Where unattended Incense faintly burns: In vain the whisp’ring Priests their Fears express, And of the Change a thousand Causes guess. Heedless of all their Censures He retires, And in his […]...
15. I have no Life but this I have no Life but this To lead it here Nor any Death but lest Dispelled from there Nor tie to Earths to come Nor Action new Except through this extent The Realm of you...
16. The Poor Boy's Christmas Observe, my child, this pretty scene, And note the air of pleasure keen With which the widow’s orphan boy Toots his tin horn, his only toy. What need of costly gifts has he? The widow has nowhere to flee. And ample noise his horn emits To drive the widow into fits. MORAL: The philosophic mind […]...
17. Rich or Poor With thy true love I have more wealth Than Charon’s piled-up bank doth hold; Where he makes kings lay down their crowns And life-long misers leave their gold. Without thy love I’ve no more wealth Than seen upon that other shore; That cold, bare bank he rows them to – Those kings and misers made […]...
18. Poor Honest Men Your jar of Virginny Will cost you a guinea, Which you reckon too much by five shillings or ten; But light your churchwarden And judge it according, When I’ve told you the troubles of poor honest men. From the Capes of the Delaware, As you are well aware, We sail which tobacco for England-but then, […]...
19. The Lovers of the Poor arrive. The Ladies from the Ladies’ Betterment League Arrive in the afternoon, the late light slanting In diluted gold bars across the boulevard brag Of proud, seamed faces with mercy and murder hinting Here, there, interrupting, all deep and debonair, The pink paint on the innocence of fear; Walk in a gingerly manner up the […]...
20. The Poor Relation No longer torn by what she knows And sees within the eyes of others, Her doubts are when the daylight goes, Her fears are for the few she bothers. She tells them it is wholly wrong Of her to stay alive so long; And when she smiles her forehead shows A crinkle that had been […]...
21. Poor Earth It is not heaven: bitter seed Leavens its entrails with despair It is a star where dragons breed: Devils have a footing there. The sky has bent it out of shape; The sun has strapped it to his wheel; Its course is crooked to escape Traps and gins of stone and steel. It balances on […]...
22. The Poor Old Cannon Upbroke the sun In red-gold foam; Thus spoke the gun At the Soldier’s Home: “Whenever I hear Blue thunder speak My voice sounds clear But little and weak. “And when the proud Young cockerels crow My voice sounds loud, But gentle and low. “When the mocking-bird Prolongs his note I cannot be heard Though I […]...
23. O Poor People Let us invoke a healthy heart-breaking Towards the horrible world: Let us say 0 poor people How can they help being so absurd, Misguided, abused, misled? With unsifted saving graces jostling about On a mucky medley of needs, Like love-lit shit, Year after cyclic year The unidentifiable flying god is missed. Emotions sit in their […]...
24. Poor little Heart! Poor little Heart! Did they forget thee? Then dinna care! Then dinna care! Proud little Heart! Did they forsake thee? Be debonnaire! Be debonnaire! Frail little Heart! I would not break thee Could’st credit me? Could’st credit me? Gay little Heart Like Morning Glory! Wind and Sun wilt thee array!...
25. Poor Devil! Well, I was tired of life; the silly folk, The tiresome noises, all the common things I loved once, crushed me with an iron yoke. I longed for the cool quiet and the dark, Under the common sod where louts and kings Lie down, serene, unheeding, careless, stark, Never to rise or move or feel […]...
26. Poor Peter Blind Peter Piper used to play All up and down the city; I’d often meet him on my way, And throw a coin for pity. But all amid his sparkling tones His ear was quick as any To catch upon the cobble-stones The jingle of my penny. And as upon a day that shone He […]...
27. Poor Kid Mumsie and Dad are raven dark And I am lily blonde. ”Tis strange,’ I once heard nurse remark, ‘You do not correspond.’ And yet they claim me as their own, Born of their flesh and bone. To doubt their parenthood I dread, But now to girlhood grown, The thought is haunting in my head That […]...
28. Poor Cock Robin My garden robin in the Spring Was rapturous with glee, And followed me with wistful wing From pear to apple tree; His melodies the summer long He carolled with delight, As if he could with jewelled song Find favour in my sight. And now that Autumn’s in the air He’s singing singing still, And yet […]...
29. 28. Poor Mailie's Elegy LAMENT in rhyme, lament in prose, Wi’ saut tears trickling down your nose; Our bardie’s fate is at a close, Past a’ remead! The last, sad cape-stane o’ his woes; Poor Mailie’s dead! It’s no the loss o’ warl’s gear, That could sae bitter draw the tear, Or mak our bardie, dowie, wear The mourning […]...
30. Anthem For Good Fryday See sinfull soul thy Saviours suffering see, His Blessed hands and feet fix’t fast to tree: Observe what Rivulets of blood stream forth His painful pierced side, each drop more worth Than tongue of men and Angels can express: Hast to him, cursed Caitiffe, and confess All thy misdeeds, and sighing say, ‘Twas I That […]...
31. Psalm 145 part 2 v.7ff C. M. The goodness of God. Sweet is the memory of thy grace, My God, my heav’nly King; Let age to age thy righteousness In sounds of glory sing. God reigns on high, but not confines His goodness to the skies; Through the whole earth his bounty shines, And every want supplies. With longing […]...
32. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
33. Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, My sinful earth these rebel powers array, Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy […]...
34. 27. The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie AS Mailie, an’ her lambs thegither, Was ae day nibbling on the tether, Upon her cloot she coost a hitch, An’ owre she warsl’d in the ditch: There, groaning, dying, she did lie, When Hughoc he cam doytin by. Wi’ glowrin een, and lifted han’s Poor Hughoc like a statue stan’s; He saw her days […]...
35. Perhaps I asked too large Perhaps I asked too large I take no less than skies For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town My Basked holds just Firmaments Those dangle easy on my arm, But smaller bundles Cram....
36. From Citron-Bower From citron-bower be her bed, Cut from branch of tree a-flower, Fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, Cut the width of board and lathe, Carve the feet from myrtle-wood. Let the palings of her bed Be quince and box-wood overlaid With the scented bark of yew. That all the wood in […]...
37. Liaison A big bud of moon hangs out of the twilight, Star-spiders spinning their thread Hang high suspended, withouten respite Watching us overhead. Come then under the trees, where the leaf-cloths Curtain us in so dark That here we’re safe from even the ermin-moth’s Flitting remark. Here in this swarthy, secret tent, Where black boughs flap […]...
38. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
39. Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
40. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...