At the club
a pretty pair of gloves
on the Parliament-man
that was cursing the poor
how they fight till they drop
though their eyes be unlucky
as if they had no bread
the white hearse of a moon
set over a sad house
down into the morning tide
Dikter om ämnet: poverty
Dikter om ämnet ”poverty” på Poets.by.
Mind over matter
I live hard in a little house
so smoky that it was troublesome
till they put out the fire
in my book of tales
the poor live with great content
out of mind
Broken windows
I would be glad to not wonder
to see but not discern the poor
or in my breast cold justice
in a broken window
Ballad of a bastard
poor child of God
knows what war
poor beast flinging off friends
and everything that is good
poor wind
and poor sordid water
poor wife forced
to go to court
Saying it like it is
noon comes to stay
and being poor
we consent to a government
of sand and spoil
but how we desire words
as close to home as the weather
Urban decay
This new, great stir: who killed the city?
The poor in morose clothes,
the two queens,
the wine in many places?
Or the great fear?
Fanatics shine at night.
We found a neighbor with no arm.
Downsizers
The poor
shall never please us,
even in war.
The devil, our broker,
broke in the street, angry
at all the blood
we drank.
Rosebush
Great company
is the rosebush,
hip to fine-dressed hip
like a queen, with
the strictness of the poor
who cannot buy a crown.
Civilian
To the office. I advise
about hanging the poor.
I miss the army—
robbing, laying out fear,
breaking the world.
Feast
Red in the morning,
a great orange disorder on which to dine.
Bottles of wine alter us.
We walk up and down and weep,
sore from sitting,
and kneel—not to the king
but to eat a piece of bread
out of a poor boy’s pocket.
Self-made man
eloquent lives I fear:
the door to a college
the herring poor
my father’s buckle
Urban renewal
Our work was art,
we gave meat to the poor
but the best gates of the town shut
for fear of the town—
a design to prevent tomorrow,
that we might err.