Poems About Poverty Seeking Friendly Advice
#poverty
Poems about poverty seeking friendly advice. Friendly advice and comments have been requested for these poems.
these city streets (and 20 years)
1. 2004 Winter
Nineteen
a lady gave me her neon yellow sweater
on my way out of detox
she heard I was about to be homeless
and didn't want me to be frozen
to the spit stained pavement
before I had a chance
to live through the night
The detox centre
didn't care where I ended up
my week was over
and the rest was up to me
I'd been turned down
by 3 rehab centres that day
and didn't know where
I was going to sleep
I cried into fuzzy yellow
and made frenzied phone calls
a handful...
Nineteen
a lady gave me her neon yellow sweater
on my way out of detox
she heard I was about to be homeless
and didn't want me to be frozen
to the spit stained pavement
before I had a chance
to live through the night
The detox centre
didn't care where I ended up
my week was over
and the rest was up to me
I'd been turned down
by 3 rehab centres that day
and didn't know where
I was going to sleep
I cried into fuzzy yellow
and made frenzied phone calls
a handful...
#homelessness
#hope
#poverty
76 reads
3 Comments
don't look down, you might find a mirror
You walk around these streets
like you didn't come from nothing
like there's no ghetto left
in your veins
You asked me if I saw the junkie's
with a new born that just moved in
a few doors down
I know who you're talking about
but I didn't look at them
and think "junkie"
when I saw them
And maybe I'm the one who's naive
or maybe I don't look at poverty
and think they must be drug addicts
because you don't need to be poor
to have problems
you just have to be poor with problems ...
like you didn't come from nothing
like there's no ghetto left
in your veins
You asked me if I saw the junkie's
with a new born that just moved in
a few doors down
I know who you're talking about
but I didn't look at them
and think "junkie"
when I saw them
And maybe I'm the one who's naive
or maybe I don't look at poverty
and think they must be drug addicts
because you don't need to be poor
to have problems
you just have to be poor with problems ...
#addiction
#hypocrisy
#poverty
139 reads
10 Comments
She
While I was petting and necking
lying over her body
she was calculating whether
she could afford a new saree
from what I would pay her
tonight
R K Singh
lying over her body
she was calculating whether
she could afford a new saree
from what I would pay her
tonight
R K Singh
#lust
#passion
#poverty #sex
#poverty #sex
127 reads
0 Comments
I hear you
I hear you girl
I am your fall from the fifth floor
There is nothing to wait me on the ground
Because I do not wear a golden bracelet
On my forearm
I remember how we chuckled as children
On the terrace of our house
With nothing to separate us
I have only two questions in my head
Who invented the golden bracelet?
Why did you go that far?
I am your fall from the fifth floor
There is nothing to wait me on the ground
Because I do not wear a golden bracelet
On my forearm
I remember how we chuckled as children
On the terrace of our house
With nothing to separate us
I have only two questions in my head
Who invented the golden bracelet?
Why did you go that far?
#poverty
69 reads
2 Comments
Elitist
Fixed with obedience
To feed is to bleed
in the folds of the paper
Are the words of their creed
The greed of the elitist
the needs of the frail
Beneath all of our bridges
is just salt in a pail
they’ll dredge you of honour
They’ll mar you of shine
They’ll keep you compliant
As they feather the line
When you lose all that matters
When you’re nipped of your vow
When you’re stripped of your patience
And you’re gripped in the now
The rule of the system
Overarching and grey
The grit of the...
To feed is to bleed
in the folds of the paper
Are the words of their creed
The greed of the elitist
the needs of the frail
Beneath all of our bridges
is just salt in a pail
they’ll dredge you of honour
They’ll mar you of shine
They’ll keep you compliant
As they feather the line
When you lose all that matters
When you’re nipped of your vow
When you’re stripped of your patience
And you’re gripped in the now
The rule of the system
Overarching and grey
The grit of the...
#corruption
#dark
#greed #poverty
#greed #poverty
148 reads
6 Comments
The Madman Show: Freeing Underpaid Workers
The guy with a white sheet over his entire body roams the streets. He's a ghost to this world with no way to identify himself.
Today, he looks to the one supermarket that is notorious for not paying its workers enough.
"Hmm," he says aloud. To himself, he thinks about what he can do to wreck havoc upon America on this bright, sunny day.
*cue for a magical block appearing and him hitting it, raking all the money in from the supermarket that is all over the world*
Invitations to his party are sent to all these poor workers. And they come...
Today, he looks to the one supermarket that is notorious for not paying its workers enough.
"Hmm," he says aloud. To himself, he thinks about what he can do to wreck havoc upon America on this bright, sunny day.
*cue for a magical block appearing and him hitting it, raking all the money in from the supermarket that is all over the world*
Invitations to his party are sent to all these poor workers. And they come...
#poverty
96 reads
1 Comment
Poor
When you are poor you do not shine
You stink like a corpse
And the kids do not want to hang out with you.
They avoid you like black cats.
You stink like a corpse
And the kids do not want to hang out with you.
They avoid you like black cats.
#poverty
192 reads
7 Comments
Angry heart and Soul Afire
Engulfed by life's fiery core,
My heart rages, a furious bull's roar.
My soul fumes with ire,
At the world's sordid mire.
War, hunger, disdain persist,
A plight that won't desist.
The shadow of sadness looms,
Ignorance deepens the gloom.
The morbidity of existence,
Cloaked in a guise of pretense.
My heart rages, a furious bull's roar.
My soul fumes with ire,
At the world's sordid mire.
War, hunger, disdain persist,
A plight that won't desist.
The shadow of sadness looms,
Ignorance deepens the gloom.
The morbidity of existence,
Cloaked in a guise of pretense.
#sadness
#anger
#war
#poverty
#deception
204 reads
2 Comments
A Multitude Of Curses
In the last few years
Of withering tears
We experienced Brexit
And the fragmentation, that came with it
Then the Pandemic, full forsworn
As we all became forcibly withdrawn
Then the war in the Ukraine
With the fear of nuclear intervention again
And the obvious worries, and realistic fears
As the worst of climate change nears
Along with the subsequent massive price rises
That has left black holes, and unwanted surprises
In now empty purses
And a multitude of curses
by Jemia
Of withering tears
We experienced Brexit
And the fragmentation, that came with it
Then the Pandemic, full forsworn
As we all became forcibly withdrawn
Then the war in the Ukraine
With the fear of nuclear intervention again
And the obvious worries, and realistic fears
As the worst of climate change nears
Along with the subsequent massive price rises
That has left black holes, and unwanted surprises
In now empty purses
And a multitude of curses
by Jemia
#war
#pollution
#LifeChangingMoment
#poverty
#pandemic
142 reads
0 Comments
Blackpool Town
When I look around, what do I see,
A town of depression and poverty.
Who would have thought the sunny seaside town,
Is hell for the locals they call Sandgrown.
With packed beaches and a heaving sea front,
The burger van lady who greets with a grunt.
The sun is shining, holiday makers galore,
Check out the back streets, they’ll make your eyes sore.
I remember the days when I grew up,
Down the road from Blackpool Football Club.
There’d be hooligans and fights at the end of our street,
And even the drunks pissed up in a heap. ...
A town of depression and poverty.
Who would have thought the sunny seaside town,
Is hell for the locals they call Sandgrown.
With packed beaches and a heaving sea front,
The burger van lady who greets with a grunt.
The sun is shining, holiday makers galore,
Check out the back streets, they’ll make your eyes sore.
I remember the days when I grew up,
Down the road from Blackpool Football Club.
There’d be hooligans and fights at the end of our street,
And even the drunks pissed up in a heap. ...
#beach
#alcohol
#poverty
288 reads
1 Comment
Homeless on the streets
In the depths of a concrete jungle, where dreams are undone,
Where shadows dance with broken souls, beneath a cold, stark sun,
There lies a world forgotten, where strength and hope collide,
A realm of darkness and despair, where life's harsh truths reside.
Today, I wandered down those streets, where desperation thrives,
To feel the pulse of life's raw truth, where no one really thrives,
I pondered on the homeless souls, their existence cast aside,
The struggles they face daily, as the world turns a blind eye.
For what is life without a roof,...
Where shadows dance with broken souls, beneath a cold, stark sun,
There lies a world forgotten, where strength and hope collide,
A realm of darkness and despair, where life's harsh truths reside.
Today, I wandered down those streets, where desperation thrives,
To feel the pulse of life's raw truth, where no one really thrives,
I pondered on the homeless souls, their existence cast aside,
The struggles they face daily, as the world turns a blind eye.
For what is life without a roof,...
#sadness
#homelessness
#TruthOfLife
#honesty
#poverty
473 reads
4 Comments
Daughters of the Dusty Avenues
Daughters of the Dusty Avenues
An emaciated woman in a Mexican daze
Carries a baby in arms still strong
Enough to love this child she bears
Wife’s bodhisattva halo embraces the nativity
of a Mesoamerican Madonna holding her baby
in a circle of love.
Beatified in luminescence
Ascetic body lost to hunger
Golden daughter of creation whose son shines
Like the gold-leafed pages
In her book of divine love
His nursery rhyme eyes
Are a shanty-town of tears
My...
An emaciated woman in a Mexican daze
Carries a baby in arms still strong
Enough to love this child she bears
Wife’s bodhisattva halo embraces the nativity
of a Mesoamerican Madonna holding her baby
in a circle of love.
Beatified in luminescence
Ascetic body lost to hunger
Golden daughter of creation whose son shines
Like the gold-leafed pages
In her book of divine love
His nursery rhyme eyes
Are a shanty-town of tears
My...
#love
#mother
#motherhood
#spiritual
#poverty
208 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Poverty Seeking Friendly Advice