Citatepedia^®.com

Gout is the sickness of the rich.

Sicilian proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Make Me Rich

Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.

Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)

'Horns and tambourines'

Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)

'Congas'

Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)

' And to the bridge'

Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Old Man's Wish

If I live to be old, for I find I go down,
Let this be my fate: In a country town
May I have a warm house, with a stone at the gate,
And a cleanly young girl to rub my bald pate.
May I govern my passion with an absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay.

Near a shady grove, and a murmuring brook,
With the ocean at distance, whereupon I may look,
With a spacious plain without hedge or stile,
And an easy pad-nag to ride out a mile.
May I govern my passion with an absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay.

With Horace and Petrarch, and two or three more
Of the best wits that reign'd in the ages before,
With roast mutton, rather than ven'son or veal,
And clean though coarse linen at every meal.
May I govern my passion with an absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay.

With a pudding on Sundays, with stout humming liquor,
And remnants of Latin to welcome the vicar,
With Monte-Fiascone or Burgundy wine,
To drink the King's health as oft as I dine.
May I govern my passion with an absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay.

With a courage undaunted may I face my last day,
And when I am dead may the better sort say,
In the morning when sober, in the evening when mellow,
He's gone, and left not behind him his fellow.
May I govern my passion with an absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay.

poem by Anonymous Americas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Following The Sickness

Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.

Fighting our own shadows, fooled by our enemies.
They are the ones you just can't see.
The unaccepted theory is rejected yet again.
But still the chorus plays.

Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.

Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.

To whom it may concern.
A poetic letter, dressed in feathers.
Does it make it any prettier?
A distraction from the purpose.
Delivering the simplest of messages.
And still they are not heard.
Oh no they are never heard.

Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.

Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.

And man is yet to learn.

And man is yet to learn.

Foolish know it alls.
A change in circumstances will cause a sudden fall.
A broken bone, or ego?
A laceration or a severed artery?
Is it serious or superficial?
An inflamation that just won't go down.

Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.

And it has brought me here.
A million passersby's.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

ANGRY WHITE BOY POLKA

[LAST RESORT (Papa Roach)]
Cut my life into pieces
This is my last resort, suffocation, no breathing
Don't give a... if I cut my arm bleeding
This is my last resort
'Cause I'm losing my sight, losing my mind
Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine
Losing my sight, losing my mind
Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine
Nothing's alright, nothing is fine
I'm running and a-crying
[CHOP SUEY! (System Of A Down)]
Wake up! (Wake up)
Grab a brush and put a little make-up
Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup
(Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup)
Why'd you leave the keys upon the table?
Here you go create another fable
You wanted to
Grab a brush and put a little makeup
You wanted to
Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup
You wanted to
Why'd you leave the keys upon the table?
You wanted to
I don't think you trust
In my self-righteous suicide
I cry when angels deserve to die, die, die
D-d-die die die die die
Hey!
[GET FREE (The Vines)]
I'm gonna get free
I'm gonna get free
I'm gonna get free
Ride into the sun
She never loved me
She never loved me
She never loved me
Why should anyone?
(Come here, come here, come here)
I'll take your photo for ya
(Come here, come here, come here)
Drive you around the corner
(Come here, come here, come here)
You know you really oughta
(Come here, come here, come here)
Move out to California*
[HATE TO SAY I TOLD YOU SO (The Hives)]
Do what I want 'cause I can, if I don't because I wanna
Be ignored by the stiff and the bored because I'm gonna

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Four Ages of Man

1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold's his Nature.
1.5 The second: frolic claims his pedigree;
1.6 From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.
1.7 The third of fire and choler is compos'd,
1.8 Vindicative, and quarrelsome dispos'd.
1.9 The last, of earth and heavy melancholy,
1.10 Solid, hating all lightness, and all folly.
1.11 Childhood was cloth'd in white, and given to show,
1.12 His spring was intermixed with some snow.
1.13 Upon his head a Garland Nature set:
1.14 Of Daisy, Primrose, and the Violet.
1.15 Such cold mean flowers (as these) blossom betime,
1.16 Before the Sun hath throughly warm'd the clime.
1.17 His hobby striding, did not ride, but run,
1.18 And in his hand an hour-glass new begun,
1.19 In dangers every moment of a fall,
1.20 And when 'tis broke, then ends his life and all.
1.21 But if he held till it have run its last,
1.22 Then may he live till threescore years or past.
1.23 Next, youth came up in gorgeous attire
1.24 (As that fond age, doth most of all desire),
1.25 His Suit of Crimson, and his Scarf of Green.
1.26 In's countenance, his pride quickly was seen.
1.27 Garland of Roses, Pinks, and Gillyflowers
1.28 Seemed to grow on's head (bedew'd with showers).
1.29 His face as fresh, as is Aurora fair,
1.30 When blushing first, she 'gins to red the Air.
1.31 No wooden horse, but one of metal try'd:
1.32 He seems to fly, or swim, and not to ride.
1.33 Then prancing on the Stage, about he wheels;
1.34 But as he went, death waited at his heels.
1.35 The next came up, in a more graver sort,
1.36 As one that cared for a good report.
1.37 His Sword by's side, and choler in his eyes,
1.38 But neither us'd (as yet) for he was wise,
1.39 Of Autumn fruits a basket on his arm,
1.40 His golden rod in's purse, which was his charm.
1.41 And last of all, to act upon this Stage,
1.42 Leaning upon his staff, comes up old age.
1.43 Under his arm a Sheaf of wheat he bore,
1.44 A Harvest of the best: what needs he more?
1.45 In's other hand a glass, ev'n almost run,
1.46 This writ about: This out, then I am done.
1.47 His hoary hairs and grave aspect made way,
1.48 And all gave ear to what he had to say.
1.49 These being met, each in his equipage
1.50 Intend to speak, according to their age,

[...] Read more

poem by Anne Bradstreet
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Poor Folks Town

The work is hard and the hours are long
The money aint much but we get along
Were rich in things can give
That cant be bought with a dollar bill
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no carpets on the floor
Weve got wall to wall love
Who could ask for more
We got no big fine things to show
Just a place to watch our children grow
We got no big fine fancy car to drive
And no fancy clothes to keep in style
What weve got were payin on
But its mostly love that were livin on
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
Weve got a little simple church nearby
And the promise of a mansion in the sky
A heart of gold a million dollar smile
And a one way ticket to paradise
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Parish Register - Part III: Burials

THERE was, 'tis said, and I believe, a time
When humble Christians died with views sublime;
When all were ready for their faith to bleed,
But few to write or wrangle for their creed;
When lively Faith upheld the sinking heart,
And friends, assured to meet, prepared to part;
When Love felt hope, when Sorrow grew serene,
And all was comfort in the death-bed scene.
Alas! when now the gloomy king they wait,
'Tis weakness yielding to resistless fate;
Like wretched men upon the ocean cast,
They labour hard and struggle to the last;
'Hope against hope,' and wildly gaze around
In search of help that never shall be found:
Nor, till the last strong billow stops the breath,
Will they believe them in the jaws of Death!
When these my Records I reflecting read,
And find what ills these numerous births succeed;
What powerful griefs these nuptial ties attend;
With what regret these painful journeys end;
When from the cradle to the grave I look,
Mine I conceive a melancholy book.
Where now is perfect resignation seen?
Alas! it is not on the village-green: -
I've seldom known, though I have often read,
Of happy peasants on their dying-bed;
Whose looks proclaimed that sunshine of the breast,
That more than hope, that Heaven itself express'd.
What I behold are feverish fits of strife,
'Twixt fears of dying and desire of life:
Those earthly hopes, that to the last endure;
Those fears, that hopes superior fail to cure;
At best a sad submission to the doom,
Which, turning from the danger, lets it come.
Sick lies the man, bewilder'd, lost, afraid,
His spirits vanquish'd, and his strength decay'd;
No hope the friend, the nurse, the doctor lend -
'Call then a priest, and fit him for his end.'
A priest is call'd; 'tis now, alas! too late,
Death enters with him at the cottage-gate;
Or time allow'd--he goes, assured to find
The self-commending, all-confiding mind;
And sighs to hear, what we may justly call
Death's common-place, the train of thought in all.
'True I'm a sinner,' feebly he begins,
'But trust in Mercy to forgive my sins:'
(Such cool confession no past crimes excite!
Such claim on Mercy seems the sinner's right!)
'I know mankind are frail, that God is just,
And pardons those who in his Mercy trust;

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Canto the Fifteenth

I
Ah! -- What should follow slips from my reflection;
Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be
As à-propos of hope or retrospection,
As though the lurking thought had follow'd free.
All present life is but an interjection,
An "Oh!" or "Ah!" of joy or misery,
Or a "Ha! ha!" or "Bah!" -- a yawn, or "Pooh!"
Of which perhaps the latter is most true.

II
But, more or less, the whole's a syncopé
Or a singultus -- emblems of emotion,
The grand antithesis to great ennui,
Wherewith we break our bubbles on the ocean, --
That watery outline of eternity,
Or miniature at least, as is my notion,
Which ministers unto the soul's delight,
In seeing matters which are out of sight.

III
But all are better than the sigh supprest,
Corroding in the cavern of the heart,
Making the countenance a masque of rest,
And turning human nature to an art.
Few men dare show their thoughts of worst or best;
Dissimulation always sets apart
A corner for herself; and therefore fiction
Is that which passes with least contradiction.

IV
Ah! who can tell? Or rather, who can not
Remember, without telling, passion's errors?
The drainer of oblivion, even the sot,
Hath got blue devils for his morning mirrors:
What though on Lethe's stream he seem to float,
He cannot sink his tremors or his terrors;
The ruby glass that shakes within his hand
Leaves a sad sediment of Time's worst sand.

V
And as for love -- O love! -- We will proceed.
The Lady Adeline Amundeville,
A pretty name as one would wish to read,
Must perch harmonious on my tuneful quill.
There's music in the sighing of a reed;
There's music in the gushing of a rill;
There's music in all things, if men had ears:
Their earth is but an echo of the spheres.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Don Juan: Canto The Fifteenth

Ah!--What should follow slips from my reflection;
Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be
As à-propos of hope or retrospection,
As though the lurking thought had follow'd free.
All present life is but an interjection,
An 'Oh!' or 'Ah!' of joy or misery,
Or a 'Ha! ha!' or 'Bah!'-- a yawn, or 'Pooh!'
Of which perhaps the latter is most true.

But, more or less, the whole's a syncope
Or a singultus - emblems of emotion,
The grand antithesis to great ennui,
Wherewith we break our bubbles on the ocean,--
That watery outline of eternity,
Or miniature at least, as is my notion,
Which ministers unto the soul's delight,
In seeing matters which are out of sight.

But all are better than the sigh supprest,
Corroding in the cavern of the heart,
Making the countenance a masque of rest,
And turning human nature to an art.
Few men dare show their thoughts of worst or best;
Dissimulation always sets apart
A corner for herself; and therefore fiction
Is that which passes with least contradiction.

Ah! who can tell? Or rather, who can not
Remember, without telling, passion's errors?
The drainer of oblivion, even the sot,
Hath got blue devils for his morning mirrors:
What though on Lethe's stream he seem to float,
He cannot sink his tremors or his terrors;
The ruby glass that shakes within his hand
Leaves a sad sediment of Time's worst sand.

And as for love--O love!--We will proceed.
The Lady Adeline Amundeville,
A pretty name as one would wish to read,
Must perch harmonious on my tuneful quill.
There's music in the sighing of a reed;
There's music in the gushing of a rill;
There's music in all things, if men had ears:
Their earth is but an echo of the spheres.

The Lady Adeline, right honourable;
And honour'd, ran a risk of growing less so;
For few of the soft sex are very stable
In their resolves--alas! that I should say so!
They differ as wine differs from its label,

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Lancelot And Elaine

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where the morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climbed
That eastern tower, and entering barred her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,
And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot:
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have killed, but God
Broke the strong lance, and rolled his enemy down,
And saved him: so she lived in fantasy.

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

For Arthur, long before they crowned him King,
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,
Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn.
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side:
For here two brothers, one a king, had met
And fought together; but their names were lost;
And each had slain his brother at a blow;
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred:
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached,
And lichened into colour with the crags:
And he, that once was king, had on a crown
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside.
And Arthur came, and labouring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Sacrifice Of Er-Heb

Er-Heb beyond the Hills of Ao-Safai
Bears witness to the truth, and Ao-Safai
Hath told the men of Gorukh. Thence the tale
Comes westward o'er the peaks to India.

The story of Bisesa, Armod's child, --
A maiden plighted to the Chief in War,
The Man of Sixty Spears, who held the Pass
That leads to Thibet, but to-day is gone
To seek his comfort of the God called Budh
The Silent -- showing how the Sickness ceased
Because of her who died to save the tribe.

Taman is One and greater than us all,
Taman is One and greater than all Gods:
Taman is Two in One and rides the sky,
Curved like a stallion's croup, from dusk to dawn,
And drums upon it with his heels, whereby
Is bred the neighing thunder in the hills.

This is Taman, the God of all Er-Heb,
Who was before all Gods, and made all Gods,
And presently will break the Gods he made,
And step upon the Earth to govern men
Who give him milk-dry ewes and cheat his Priests,
Or leave his shrine unlighted -- as Er-Heb
Left it unlighted and forgot Taman,
When all the Valley followed after Kysh
And Yabosh, little Gods but very wise,
And from the sky Taman beheld their sin.

He sent the Sickness out upon the hills,
The Red Horse Sickness with the iron hooves,
To turn the Valley to Taman again.

And the Red Horse snuffed thrice into the wind,
The naked wind that had no fear of him;
And the Red Horse stamped thrice upon the snow,
The naked snow that had no fear of him;
And the Red Horse went out across the rocks,
The ringing rocks that had no fear of him;
And downward, where the lean birch meets the snow,
And downward, where the gray pine meets the birch,
And downward, where the dwarf oak meets the pine,
Till at his feet our cup-like pastures lay.

That night, the slow mists of the evening dropped,
Dropped as a cloth upon a dead man's face,
And weltered in the Valley, bluish-white
Like water very silent -- spread abroad,

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

How Does It Feel

[ ice-t ]
Yo rich man, these girls ready to get busy?
[ big rich ]
Ah man, you know they on deck
[ ice-t ]
Yo, whats up with they men, though?
[ big rich ]
Come on, men squares, man
Cant no square keep no woman
[ ice-t ]
Right
I guess they just wanna find out what its like on the other side
Girls wanna keep it real
Gotta love em for it
I love a woman with courage
[ big rich ]
Yeah, there she go right there, man
[ ice-t ]
Yeah, Im break her off somethin proper
Ima represent, check it out
[ ice-t ]
Now although your friends warned you bout us westside macks
Girl, you was willin to take a chance and I respect you for that
And at last were all alone, baby, just you and i, dont try to lie
I know whats on your mind, Im lookin straight through your eyes
[ big rich ]
So let that hair down and let that body go free
And come close because tonight it belongs to me
No brothers doin it like this westside mack
Ride you like my chevy, hit that ass front and back
Now tell me
[ big rich ]
Now how does it feel to make love to a gee?
Do you wanna go back to your man or, baby, stay here with me?
Now how does it feel to make love to a gee?
Strictly on the westside where I ride, now, baby, come roll with me
[ big rich ]
Now two hours done passed but then its only gettin better
My body is gettin hotter while yours is gettin wetter
Wanna roll up in your river like a steamboat
Pretend youre takin a bath and Im your piece of chalice soap
[ ice-t ]
Oh my girl, can you feel what Im feelin now?
As you turn around Im lookin at that brown
Sugar fat coated ass
I just cant let it pass
Gotta move on it fast
Now tell me, baby
[ big rich ]
Now how does it feel to make love to a gee?

[...] Read more

song performed by Ice T
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Don't Be Fooled

When my twin brother was dying of cancer the insurance company pulled his insurance then the bank foreclosed his house. i hate them! I hate the right wing of today and corporate insurance companies and the rich get richer off the middle class and the union busting etc. i will always fight them no matter what happens. I love people with empathy and compassion and courage and real love. We are in a very bad chapter in American history and even if we do not pull out of it I still will fight because I am a universalist with spiritual ethics based on God is love and love thy neighbor as thyself. I know both parties are in the hands of money and lobby dollars but the right wing is way worse and the tea party even crazier. They won't tax the rich back to the Clinton years while they watch tuitions going up so the rich get to send their kids to school and the poor or lower middleclass can't send their kids to college. The tea party sides with banks and the oil companies and tax breaks for the wealthy not the working class and poor. The Congressional Budget Office (CBO) just came out with a report showing that since 1979 the top 1 percent increased wages and wealth a staggering 275%. This inequality and massive distribution of wealth is ruining our economy. The right wing spins this and blames the victims, accuses people of being lazy etc when the truth is they take from the poor to give to the rich and then they turn around and accuse everyone of starting class warfare. They are the class warefare oppressors! These mobsters and political cronies for the rich use evangelicals. Side with the poor and the working class. Remember in the feast of Jubilee the land went back to the original tribe every 50 years in Israel. The fields were to remain fallow and unplowed every seven years for one year and the poor only could glean. During harvest the fields could only be gone over once then the poor could go in. There was always justice and social justice and distribution of wealth. Jesus healed them all. Today we have cattle that don't graze but are fed on corn filled with growth hormones and antibiotics, chickens never seeing the sun with broken legs after a few months because of rapid growth for profit, pigs that never stand up though they are smarter than dogs all for the food industries. The grain companies feed these animals and it all goes for MONEY while corporate Christianity is more worried about the rapture and Armageddon then love and justice. Regulations let down increase lead, mercury, toxic chemicals and cancers and the evangelicals get used by the republican gangsters and rhetoric. GMO’s everywhere that are being questioned by more and more scientist and the right wing church is mum. Ministers preaching right out in the open, vote for these right wing gang leaders and not loosing their tax exempt status! Don't be fooled. It is the rich and major companies that have shipped the jobs out of here; it is not the poor and the middle class. They won’t tax the rich and still give exemptions to the OIL COMPANIES! C’mon folks! ! ! Don’t be fooled!
Big Oil just posted multibillion-dollar profits – AGAIN – and what are Republicans doing? Filibustering a jobs bill. Refusing to make billionaires pay their fair share. Basically anything they can do for the benefit of their wealthy buddies in the top 1% - and at the expense of the middle class. They don't want the middle class strengthened in any way as to give any credit to the left because they don't love their country. They love their power, the rich, the elite and all they do is grandstand and block help for hurting people.
I am for the party that distributes the wealth, that helps kids get to college, that supports women, that supports the mentally ill and doesn’t cut funding, that doesn’t allow companies to pollute and ruin the environment, that is green and wanting clean technology for our children, that leaves the rivers and lakes and wilderness in tact for future generations, that supports unions and good wages for working people with good benefits and a future, that believes is social security, that wants healthcare for every single citizen. Love thy neighbor as thyself. Do onto others as you would want them to do unto you. Do you want healthcare for you and yours, do you want college for your children, do you want clean water, do you want a good job for you and your children? ? ? Then fight these greedy, evil republicans of today who support the 1% of the filthy rich while they dismantle and take away the middle class in a horrible battle of class warfare. See what the Bible preaches about the rich and oppressors. The Scriptures constantly lift up the poor and working people and condemn the rich and those that do not share the wealth. I don’t care about names or tags but as a Christian I cannot see the 1% have all the marbles and allow our country to be taken over by these gangsters and liars. These right-wingers of today support the rich. Powerful and greedy and they are trying for the evangelical vote and bubba while taking bread off everyone’s table except their own. DON’T BE FOOLED

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Bride's Prelude

“Sister,” said busy Amelotte
To listless Aloÿse;
“Along your wedding-road the wheat
Bends as to hear your horse's feet,
And the noonday stands still for heat.”
Amelotte laughed into the air
With eyes that sought the sun:
But where the walls in long brocade
Were screened, as one who is afraid
Sat Aloÿse within the shade.
And even in shade was gleam enough
To shut out full repose
From the bride's 'tiring-chamber, which
Was like the inner altar-niche
Whose dimness worship has made rich.
Within the window's heaped recess
The light was counterchanged
In blent reflexes manifold
From perfume-caskets of wrought gold
And gems the bride's hair could not hold,
All thrust together: and with these
A slim-curved lute, which now,
At Amelotte's sudden passing there,
Was swept in somewise unaware,
And shook to music the close air.
Against the haloed lattice-panes
The bridesmaid sunned her breast;
Then to the glass turned tall and free,
And braced and shifted daintily
Her loin-belt through her côte-hardie.
The belt was silver, and the clasp
Of lozenged arm-bearings;
A world of mirrored tints minute
The rippling sunshine wrought into 't,
That flushed her hand and warmed her foot.
At least an hour had Aloÿse—
Her jewels in her hair—
Her white gown, as became a bride,
Quartered in silver at each side—
Sat thus aloof, as if to hide.
Over her bosom, that lay still,
The vest was rich in grain,
With close pearls wholly overset:
Around her throat the fastenings met
Of chevesayle and mantelet.
Her arms were laid along her lap
With the hands open: life
Itself did seem at fault in her:
Beneath the drooping brows, the stir
Of thought made noonday heavier.

[...] Read more

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Wealth And Racism

Yes tell me it is not called the third world!
It is called the developing world? Developing?

Yes tell me it is not rich people exploiting the poor!
It is the system and multinational corporations?

People would never do such things deliberately!
News flash, some people not only would, they are?

To poor people struggling inside a third world.
Rich people can symbolize oppression slavery.
Rich people at best may be just rich boss pricks.

It does not amatta, what acolour, a skin is...
when it isa youa, who isa starving, toa slowa death!
When it isa youa, whoisa nota gota, fullie stomach!

It does not matter what colour a skin is...
When the people exploiting you are all the same.
When the people exploiting you are all rich pricks.

Of course children under five starving to death...
do so without ever experiencing the need to learn...
the meaning, of such words terms; their experiences differ...

Poor third world people, dying of starvation wages...
when lucky enough, to get any kind, of work at all.
Or being sweat shop worked, to a dropp dead early grave...
don’t usually much care, who is classified as super rich.
Or what prejudice exists, between the boss mega rich.

Arguments and equations
demanding colour equality.
Tend to lose ground and relevance
quickly, for the dying and the dead.

Questions of race harmony
can best be resolved.
When the entire race of humanity
is fairly, clothed and fed.

For dedicated; chosen social reformers;
like Mahatma Gandhi and Doctor King.
True civilized; family brotherhood;
has evolved to protect the underdog.

Regardless of religion, race, colour;

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Borough. Letter XVII: The Hospital And

Govenors
AN ardent spirit dwells with Christian love,
The eagle's vigour in the pitying dove;
'Tis not enough that we with sorrow sigh,
That we the wants of pleading man supply,
That we in sympathy with sufferers feel,
Nor hear a grief without a wish to heal;
Not these suffice--to sickness, pain, and woe,
The Christian spirit loves with aid to go;
Will not be sought, waits not for want to plead,
But seeks the duty--nay, prevents the need;
Her utmost aid to every ill applies,
And plans relief for coining miseries.
Hence yonder Building rose: on either side
Far stretch'd the wards, all airy, warm, and wide;
And every ward has beds by comfort spread,
And smooth'd for him who suffers on the bed:
There all have kindness, most relief,--for some
Is cure complete,--it is the sufferer's home:
Fevers and chronic ills, corroding pains,
Each accidental mischief man sustains;
Fractures and wounds, and wither'd limbs and lame,
With all that, slow or sudden, vex our frame,
Have here attendance--here the sufferers lie,
(Where love and science every aid apply,)
And heal'd with rapture live, or soothed by comfort

die.
See! one relieved from anguish, and to-day
Allow'd to walk and look an hour away;
Two months confined by fever, frenzy, pain,
He comes abroad and is himself again:
'Twas in the spring, when carried to the place,
The snow fell down and melted in his face.
'Tis summer now; all objects gay and new,
Smiling alike the viewer and the view:
He stops as one unwilling to advance,
Without another and another glance;
With what a pure and simple joy he sees
Those sheep and cattle browsing at their ease;
Easy himself, there's nothing breathes or moves,
But he would cherish--all that lives he loves:
Observing every ward as round he goes,
He thinks what pain, what danger they inclose;
Warm in his wish for all who suffer there,
At every view he meditates a prayer:
No evil counsels in his breast abide,
There joy, and love, and gratitude reside.
The wish that Roman necks in one were found,
That he who form'd the wish might deal the wound,

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Gout produces calculus in the kidney... the patient has frequently to entertain the painful speculation as to whether gout or stone be the worst disease. Sometimes the stone, on passing, kills the patient, without waiting for the gout.

quote by Thomas Sydenham
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ridicule

Gout that strives at you manages pleasure,
Due to homogeny of ridicule on the side.
Danger of honest honey matters most,
Gout arrives forming a honeycreeper.
This illness I confine to the organs
Envelops my mind most, then my feet and joints.
I am hominoid like the blessed men and women,
Piercing us with pleasure, pictures so pickled
With distaste of picnics.
Piety is the taste of death that gout brings,
For we are deathly on the side of angels
That caress the objects we design,
And there is more ridicule to come.

poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Money Money Money

I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay
Aint it sad
And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me
Thats too bad
In my dreams I have a plan
If I got me a wealthy man
I wouldnt have to work at all, Id fool around and have a ball...
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich mans world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich mans world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
Its a rich mans world
A man like that is hard to find but I cant get him off my mind
Aint it sad
And if he happens to be free I bet he wouldnt fancy me
Thats too bad
So I must leave, Ill have to go
To las vegas or monaco
And win a fortune in a game, my life will never be the same...
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich mans world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich mans world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
Its a rich mans world
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich mans world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich mans world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
Its a rich mans world
Its a rich mans world

song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Money, Money

I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay
Ain't it sad
And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me
That's too bad
In my dreams I have a plan
If I got me a wealthy man
I wouldn't have to work at all, I'd fool around and have a ball...
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
A man like that is hard to find but I can't get him off my mind
Ain't it sad
And if he happens to be free I bet he wouldn't fancy me
That's too bad
So I must leave, I'll have to go
To Las Vegas or Monaco
And win a fortune in a game, my life will never be the same...
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
It's a rich man's world

song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!