Money poems
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The Sluggard
© Isaac Watts
'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain,
"You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again."
As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,
Turns his sides and his shoulders and his heavy head.
Last Instructions to a Painter
© Andrew Marvell
Here, Painter, rest a little, and survey
With what small arts the public game they play.
For so too Rubens, with affairs of state,
His labouring pencil oft would recreate.
The Picnic
© Charles Godfrey Leland
DE picknock oud at Spraker's Wood:-
It melt de soul und fire de plood.
Id sofly slid from cakes und cream;
Boot busted oop on brandy shdeam.
On A Handful Of French Money
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
These coins that jostle on my hand do own
No single image: each name here and date
The Killing Place
© Edgar Albert Guest
Were hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.
Five For Country Music
© Lisel Mueller
The bulb at the front door burns and burns.
If it were a white rose it would tire of blooming
through another endless night.
For A Thirteenth Birthday
© Lisel Mueller
You have read War and Peace.
Now here is Sister Carrie,
not up to Tolstoy; still
it will second the real world:
Curriculum Vitae
© Lisel Mueller
2) In the year of my birth, money was shredded into
confetti. A loaf of bread cost a million marks. Of
course I do not remember this.
Pennies
© Joyce Kilmer
A few long-hoarded pennies in his hand
Behold him stand;
A kilted Hedonist, perplexed and sad.
The joy that once he had,
Workin It Out
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Well I've been spendin' my life lookin' for a shoulder
To rest my head when the nights get colder
But the days are gettin' longer and I'm gettin' older
Been long time workin' it out
I been a long time workin' it out I been a long time workin' it out
I been a long time workin' it out I been a long time workin' it out
The House with Nobody in It
© Joyce Kilmer
Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for
a minute
The Snowman in the Yard
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Thomas Augustine Daly)The Judge's house has a splendid porch, with pillars
and steps of stone,
And the Judge has a lovely flowering hedge that came from across
the seas;
To Edward Jenkinson, Esq
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
And I be negligently told
You was too Young, and I too Old,
To have our distant Maxims hold.
The Tradesman and the Scholar
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Wit and the Arts, on that Foundation rais'd,
(Howe'er the Vulgar are with Shows amaz'd)
Is all that recommends, or can be justly prais'd.
An EPISTLE From A Gentleman To Madam Deshouliers
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Nor with the Happiness I taste,
Let any jealous Doubts contend:
Her Friendship is secure to last,
Beginning where all others end.
A Tale of the Miser and the Poet
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Noquoth the Man of broken Slumbers:
Yet we have Patrons for our Numbers;
There are Mecænas's among 'em.
The Way I Treated Father [A Bush Song]
© Henry Lawson
I WORKED with father in the bush
At splitting rails and palings.
So You Want To Be A Writer
© Charles Bukowski
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
Hermann And Dorothea - VI. Klio
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Thus the magistrate spoke. The others departed and thanked him,
And the pastor produced a gold piece (the silver his purse held
He some hours before had with genuine kindness expended
When he saw the fugitives passing in sorrowful masses).
