Money poems
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Editor Whedon
© Edgar Lee Masters
To be able to see every side of every question;
To be on every side, to be everything, to be nothing long;
To pervert truth, to ride it for a purpose,
To use great feelings and passions of the human family
Rosie Roberts
© Edgar Lee Masters
I was sick, but more than that, I was mad
At the crooked police, and the crooked game of life.
So I wrote to the Chief of Police at Peoria:
"I am here in my girlhood home in Spoon River,
That There Dog O' Mine
© Henry Lawson
Macquarie the shearer had met with an accident. To tell the truth, he had been in a drunken row at a wayside shanty, from which he had escaped with three fractured ribs, a cracked head, and various minor abrasions. His dog, Tally, had been a sober but savage participator in the drunken row, and had escaped with a broken leg.
Macquarie afterwards shouldered his swag and staggered and struggled along the track ten miles to the Union-Town Hospital. Lord knows how he did it. He didn't exactly know himself. Tally limped behind all the way on three legs. The doctors examined the man's injuries and were surprised at his endurance.
Daisy Fraser
© Edgar Lee Masters
Did you ever hear of Editor Whedon
Giving to the public treasury any of the money he received
For supporting candidated for office?
Or for writing up the canning factory
Thursos Landing
© Robinson Jeffers
In the night Reave dreamed that Helen
Lay with him in the deep grave, he awoke loathing her,
But when the weak moment between sleep and waking
Was past, his need of her and his judgment of her
Knew their suspended duel; and he heard her breathing,
Irregularly, gently in the dark.
Tom Beatty
© Edgar Lee Masters
I was a lawyer like Harmon Whitney
Or Kinsey Keene or Garrison Standard,
For I tried the rights of property,
Although by lamp-light, for thirty years,
Sersmith the Dentist
© Edgar Lee Masters
Do you think that odes and sermons,
And the ringing of church bells,
And the blood of old men and young men,
Martyred for the truth they saw
Ace Shaw
© Edgar Lee Masters
I never saw any difference
Between playing cards for money
And selling real estate,
Practicing law, banking, or anything else.
Robert Fulton Tanner
© Edgar Lee Masters
If a man could bite the giant hand
That catchs and destroys him,
As I was bitten by a rat
While demonstrating my patent trap,
Yesterday and Today XII
© Khalil Gibran
The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles
The House of Fortune III
© Khalil Gibran
My wearied heart bade me farewell and left for the House of Fortune
A fine Old English Gentleman
© Charles Dickens
I'll sing you a new ballad, and I'll warrant it first-rate,
Of the days of that old gentleman who had that old estate;
When they spent the public money at a bountiful old rate
On ev'ry mistress, pimp, and scamp, at ev'ry noble gate,
In the fine old English Tory times;
Soon may they come again!
Washington McNeely
© Edgar Lee Masters
Rich, honored by my fellow citizens,
The father of many children, born of a noble mother,
Letter In Prose And Verse To Mrs. Bunbury
© Oliver Goldsmith
I read your letter with all that allowance which critical candour could
require, but after all find so much to object to, and so much to raise
my indignation, that I cannot help giving it a serious answer.
Reminiscence
© Sukasah Syahdan
I am reminiscing you; and the little boy who often stole some change from the left pocket of your pants that would hang behind the door in the front room; his pride in bringing home for Mom, his three brothers and as many sisters, a plastic bagful of bananas or oranges from the money hed stolen; the one afternoon you once asked him about the vanishing money; how he could bring home oleh-oleh for the family; the childish lies and made-up stories; and the relief he felt when you did not pursue the truth hidden in his pinkish heart
Mister William
© William Schwenck Gilbert
OH, listen to the tale of MISTER WILLIAM, if you please,
Whom naughty, naughty judges sent away beyond the seas.
He forged a party's will, which caused anxiety and strife,
Resulting in his getting penal servitude for life.
First Impressions: Budapest 1992
© Sukasah Syahdan
is many a love-struck couple kissing and hugging with passion by the Margit híd;
What a weekend
© Ivan Donn Carswell
What a weekend, it certainly defied all the pundits trends,
the World Game French were trashed by Versace and petulance,
the Wallabies by a graphic haka, while Wimbledon saw the Amazons
revenge and Switzerlands answer was Roger Federer in eminence.
I love you in the morning
© Ivan Donn Carswell
I love you in the morning and at the setting of the sun
And in the hours of darkness before the day's begun
And in my waking solitude to greet the break of dawn
I grant you sleep that extra hour, although you sleep alone.
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 02: Death: And A Derisive Chorus
© Conrad Aiken
The door is shut. She leaves the curtained office,
And down the grey-walled stairs comes trembling slowly
Towards the dazzling street.
Her withered hand clings tightly to the railing.
The long stairs rise and fall beneath her feet.
