Professed striving, thriving in kitchen life
Woman of yesterday was a home maid
Call her not a homemaker or housewife
A home maid unpaid and future benighted
Illiterate slave literate in home science
Deprived of finance for days ahead
Suppressed in fearful negligence
Dear and near, not to be truly so supposed
Necessity out of such a pity
Woman of olden time
Saved in her kitty
Annas, paise to chime.
Unreally smiling out of disguised injustice
Done to her by a domestic law
To herself collected coins, fortune to splice
Woman of moral law
Begotten parental assets begotten
Life raised husband and his folks
Counting her collection the woman forlorn
From mercy somebody the beseeched alms
Her pouch of coins didn’t change
Unchanged the least quantum amount too
No depositing, no investing to challange
No interest, no dividend to woo
Passed on from husband to son
Hopes on despair built
Survival of a grand-ma’s funeral now to shun.
Stealthily on money matters spoken about.
On her couch of death
Ready to depart her pouch.
Struggling through her last breath
Her savings presented to her funeral march
Gran father money
All moneyees are
Others only others…
Don’t loves other moneys
On the way of life
Love your money…
Enjoy your money
Earn your won money…
Each every day you and others…!
Ten years ago, in Tennessee
I grew myself a money tree.
The money came in all-green leaves
my shepherd kept away the thieves.
My dog supplied his droppings, too
I added, also, chicken poo.
The tree grew big and even bigger
it was a huge imposing figure.
And from the top you could make out
Jack Daniel’s place, on Hilltop Route.
I cared for, watered my big tree
it did allow me to be free.
And in the year thereafter it
had little ones, I said ‘oh shit’.
Today I have a whole plantation
by far the largest in the nation.
I am the richest in the land
my life is great and never bland.
This shows what honest work can do
I wouldn’t think it is for you.
Hope went by and Peace went by
And would not enter in;
Youth went by and Health wnt by
And Love that is their kin.
Those within the house shed tears
On their bitter bread;
Some were old and some were mad,
And some were sick a-bed.
Gray Death saw the wretched house
And even he passed by–
“They have never lived,” he said,
“They can wait to die.”
You bound strong sandals on my feet,
You gave me bread and wine,
And sent me under sun and stars,
For all the world was mine.
Oh, take the sandals off my feet,
You know not what you do;
For all my world is in your arms,
My sun and stars are you.
am a cloud in the heaven’s height,
The stars are lit for my delight,
Tireless and changeful, swift and free,
I cast my shadow on hill and sea–
But why do the pines on the mountain’s crest
Call to me always, “Rest, rest”?
I throw my mantle over the moon
And I blind the sun on his throne at noon,
Nothing can tame me, nothing can bind,
I am a child of the heartless wind–
But oh the pines on the mountain’s crest
Whispering always, “Rest, rest.”