Money poems
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Mr. What's-His-Name
© James Whitcomb Riley
They called him Mr. What's-his-name:
From where he was, or why he came,
Or when, or what he found to do,
Nobody in the city knew.
The Self-Seeker
© Robert Frost
"Willis, I didn't want you here to-day:
The lawyer's coming for the company.
I'm going to sell my soul, or, rather, feet.
Five hundred dollars for the pair, you know."
Conversation
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
We were a baker's dozen in the house-six women and six men
Besides myself; and all of us had known
The Housekeeper
© Robert Frost
I let myself in at the kitchen door.
"It's you," she said. "I can't get up. Forgive me
Not answering your knock. I can no more
Let people in than I can keep them out.
The Investment
© Robert Frost
Over back where they speak of life as staying
('You couldn't call it living, for it ain't'),
There was an old, old house renewed with paint,
And in it a piano loudly playing.
A Little Christmas Basket
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
De win' is hollahin' "Daih you" to de shuttahs an' de fiah,
De snow's a-sayin' "Got you" to de groun',
50-50
© Langston Hughes
Im all alone in this world, she said,
Aint got nobody to share my bed,
Aint got nobody to hold my hand
The truth of the matters
I aint got no man.
The Death of the Hired Man
© Robert Frost
Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table
Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,
She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage
To meet him in the doorway with the news
The Borough. Letter XXII: Peter Grimes
© George Crabbe
Now lived the youth in freedom, but debarr'd
From constant pleasure, and he thought it hard;
Hard that he could not every wish obey,
But must awhile relinquish ale and play;
Hard! that he could not to his cards attend,
But must acquire the money he would spend.
The Holidays
© Ann Taylor
"AH! don't you remember, 'tis almost December,
And soon will the holidays come;
Oh, 'twill be so funny, I've plenty of money,
I'll buy me a sword and a drum. "
1991-ii
© Wendell Berry
The ewes crowd to the mangers;
Their bellies widen, sag;
Their udders tighten. Soon
The little voices cry
Grizzly Bear
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Yeah they call me Grizzly Bear got long black grizzly hair
Walk down the street and everybody stop and stare
Ohohoh well I'm wild and wooly and free
And so you'd better not mess with me
Lemme tell you that I howl yowl growl like a grizzly bear
Dirty Ol Me
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Well I was sittin' up in my crane leftin' boulders in the rain
Can't get promoted no matter what I do
Ah when the forman he comes around and he yells up from the ground
He says hold that load up there for a minute or two
A Dramatic Poem
© William Butler Yeats
Second Sailor. And I had thought to make
A good round Sum upon this cruise, and turn -
For I am getting on in life - to something
That has less ups and downs than robbery.
Cloony The Clown
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
Self-Condemnation
© George Herbert
Thou who condemnest Jewish hate,
For choosing Barabbas a murderer
Before the Lord of glorie;
Look back upon thine own estate,
Call home thine eye (that busie wanderer)
That choice may be thy storie.
