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"The "haves" and "have nots" can be traced back to the "dids" and "did nots."

quote by Anthony Klco
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shuffling Among the 'Nots

Shuffling among the 'nots'!
Those who have,
Can keep what they've got.
I like the nonchalants.
They seem to have...
Lots of moxie.

The 'haves' seem to shell out a lot.
All boxed in and slick like foxes.
The 'nots' don't mind downing shots.
From a bottle that's passed to a neighbor,
Who labors.
While the 'haves' always want to cop!
And sip champagne with caviar nonstop!

Shuffling among the 'nots'!
Those who have,
Can keep what they've got.
I like the nonchalants.
They seem to have...
Lots of moxie.

Nobody brags about who has finally made it!
Or give shade while eating marmalade.
Nobody I know fakes it.
If they got it in their pocket...
No one is amazed.

Or talk about their chauffeurs,
Or laying off lazy maids.

The 'haves' seem to shell out a lot.
All boxed in and slick like foxes.
The 'nots' don't mind downing shots.
From a bottle that's passed to a neighbor,
Who labors.
While the 'haves' always want to cop!
And sip champagne with caviar nonstop!

Shuffling among the 'nots'!
Those who have,
Can keep what they've got.
I like the nonchalants.
They seem to have...
Lots of moxie.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Never Saw It Coming

All of the things
That happened just so I can be here
Who's pulling the strings?
Do I have company?
'cause I'd like to think
That I'm in control of my own destiny
All of the signs begin to point the other way
Who would have known
That I'd be standing right here next to you
'cause I never saw it coming
Who would have known
That I'd get control of things I do
All the could have should haves
Never would have happened anyway
Maybe it's me
Or maybe there's something more to it
I believe what I see
'cause seeing is believing
And I like to think
That I'm in control of when and how I go
What if I stepped outside
And I got blown away
Who would have known
That I'd be standing right here next to you
'cause I never saw it coming
Who would have known
That I'd get control of things I do
All the could have should haves
Never would have happened to me
All the could have should haves
Never would have happened anyway
Happened anyway...
Happened anyway...
I never saw it coming
I never saw it coming
(Happened anyway)
I never saw it coming
I never saw it coming
All the could have should haves
Never would have happened to me
All the could have should haves
Never would have happened
Who would have known
That I'd be standing right here next to you
'cause I never saw it coming
Who would have known
That I'd get control of things I do
All the could have should haves
Never would have happened to me
And now I know that everything

[...] Read more

song performed by Hoobastank
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Have Nots

Nabody cares have nots
Planning budget laws
Order judgement
All are for
Welfare of have nots
All aim at developement
No body cares have nots
Have nots are only have nots.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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In Every City, Town And Village

In every City, Town and Village the haves and have nots reside
But even the poorest of the poor have got their sense of pride
And it must be soul destroying for them to have to beg to stay alive
But pride has to take second place to the will to survive.

The wealthy growing wealthier and the poor growing poorer in the great social divide
And sad to say the gap between the haves and the have nots has never been so wide
Millions are dying of hunger and in camps for the homeless and Stateless overseas
At least thirty million people that's a lot of refugees.

Poverty is a relative thing some have been known to say
And the poor one in a prosperous Nation would be seen as wealthy in a poor Nation far away
But to live short of money anywhere is not a pleasant thing
'Tis seldom of the homeless soul that the balladeer does sing.

In every City, Town and Village there is inequality
And even in the wealthiest of Nations there is want and poverty
And though everybody in the World cannot be a millionaire
The unequal distribution of wealth seems so very unfair.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Ways Of Life

Strange are the ways of life
With all its ups and downs....
The wheels of fortune turns
And all of a sudden
Haves become have-nots,
Have-nots become haves...
But what must happen
does happen
and we have to face it all
with courage and a steely resolve...

Strange are the ways of life
With all its ups and downs...
The morning alarm rings
and all of a sudden,
Fear and anxiety threaten
to suffocate me to death.
Then I remind myself
But what must happen
does happen
and I must face it all
with courage and a steely resolve...

poem by Jasbir Chatterjee
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The Dream

I

Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy;
They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,
They take a weight from off waking toils,
They do divide our being; they become
A portion of ourselves as of our time,
And look like heralds of eternity;
They pass like spirits of the past - they speak
Like sibyls of the future; they have power -
The tyranny of pleasure and of pain;
They make us what we were not - what they will,
And shake us with the vision that's gone by,
The dread of vanished shadows - Are they so?
Is not the past all shadow? - What are they?
Creations of the mind? - The mind can make
Substances, and people planets of its own
With beings brighter than have been, and give
A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.
I would recall a vision which I dreamed
Perchance in sleep - for in itself a thought,
A slumbering thought, is capable of years,
And curdles a long life into one hour.

II

I saw two beings in the hues of youth
Standing upon a hill, a gentle hill,
Green and of mild declivity, the last
As 'twere the cape of a long ridge of such,
Save that there was no sea to lave its base,
But a most living landscape, and the wave
Of woods and corn-fields, and the abodes of men
Scattered at intervals, and wreathing smoke
Arising from such rustic roofs: the hill
Was crowned with a peculiar diadem
Of trees, in circular array, so fixed,
Not by the sport of nature, but of man:
These two, a maiden and a youth, were there
Gazing - the one on all that was beneath
Fair as herself - but the boy gazed on her;
And both were young, and one was beautiful:
And both were young - yet not alike in youth.
As the sweet moon on the horizon's verge,
The maid was on the eve of womanhood;

[...] Read more

poem by Byron (1816)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Vision Of Columbus - Book 1

Long had the Sage, the first who dared to brave
The unknown dangers of the western wave,
Who taught mankind where future empires lay
In these fair confines of descending day,
With cares o'erwhelm'd, in life's distressing gloom,
Wish'd from a thankless world a peaceful tomb;
While kings and nations, envious of his name,
Enjoy'd his toils and triumph'd o'er his fame,
And gave the chief, from promised empire hurl'd,
Chains for a crown, a prison for a world.
Now night and silence held their lonely reign,
The half-orb'd moon declining to the main;
Descending clouds, o'er varying ether driven,
Obscured the stars and shut the eye from heaven;
Cold mists through opening grates the cell invade,
And deathlike terrors haunt the midnight shade;
When from a visionary, short repose,
That raised new cares and temper'd keener woes,
Columbus woke, and to the walls address'd
The deep-felt sorrows of his manly breast.

Here lies the purchase, here the wretched spoil,
Of painful years and persevering toil:
For these dread walks, this hideous haunt of pain,
I traced new regions o'er the pathless main,
Dared all the dangers of the dreary wave,
Hung o'er its clefts and topp'd the surging grave,
Saw billowy seas, in swelling mountains roll,
And bursting thunders rock the reddening pole,
Death rear his front in every dreadful form,
Gape from beneath and blacken in the storm;
Till, tost far onward to the skirts of day,
Where milder suns dispens'd a smiling ray,
Through brighter skies my happier sails descry'd
The golden banks that bound the western tide,
And gave the admiring world that bounteous shore
Their wealth to nations and to kings their power

Oh land of transport! dear, delusive coast,
To these fond, aged eyes forever lost!
No more thy gladdening vales I travel o'er,
For me thy mountains rear the head no more,
For me thy rocks no sparkling gems unfold,
Or streams luxuriant wear their paths in gold;
From realms of promised peace forever borne,
I hail dread anguish, and in secret mourn

But dangers past, fair climes explored in vain,
And foes triumphant shew but half my pain
Dissembling friends, each earlier joy who gave,

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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Vision Of Columbus - Book 5

Columbus hail'd them with a father's smile,
Fruits of his cares and children of his toil;
With tears of joy, while still his eyes descried
Their course adventurous o'er the distant tide.
Thus, when o'er deluged earth her Seraph stood,
The tost ark bounding on the shoreless flood,
The sacred treasure claim'd his guardian view,
While climes unnoticed in the wave withdrew.
He saw the squadrons reach the rising strand,
Leap from the wave and share the joyous land;
Receding forests yield the heroes room,
And opening wilds with fields and gardens bloom.
Fill'd with the glance extatic, all his soul
Now seems unbounded with the scene to roll,
And now, impatient, with retorted eye,
Perceives his station in another sky.
Waft me, O winged Angel, waft me o'er,
With those blest heroes, to the happy shore;
There let me live and die–but all appears
A fleeting vision; these are future years.
Yet grant in nearer view the climes may spread,
And my glad steps may seem their walks to tread;
While eastern coasts and kingdoms, wrapp'd in night,
Arise no more to intercept the sight.
The hero spoke; the Angel's powerful hand
Moves brightening o'er the visionary land;
The height, that bore them, still sublimer grew,
And earth's whole circuit settled from their view:
A dusky Deep, serene as breathless even,
Seem'd vaulting downward, like another heaven;
The sun, rejoicing on his western way,
Stamp'd his fair image in the inverted day:
Sudden, the northern shores again drew nigh,
And life and action fill'd the hero's eye.
Where the dread Laurence breaks his passage wide,
Where Missisippi's milder currents glide,
Where midland realms their swelling mountainsheave,
And slope their champaigns to the distant wave,
On the green banks, and o'er the extended plain,
Rise into sight the happiest walks of man.
The placid ports, that break the billowing gales,
Rear their tall masts and stretch their whitening sails;
The harvests wave, the groves with fruitage bend,
And bulwarks heave, and spiry domes ascend;
Fair works of peace in growing splendor rise,
And grateful earth repays the bounteous skies.
Till war invades; when opening vales disclose,
In moving crouds, the savage tribes of foes;
High tufted quills their painted foreheads press,
Dark spoils of beasts their shaggy shoulders dress,

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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Alliterative Rambling

I often wondered why manmade laws fail.
They are canny compromised concoctions
Agreed to by gregarious, greedy
Souls with agendas, agents for the rich.
These representatives repeatedly
Parrot party politics to pave the
Way to enactment. Actors on a stage
Playing roles with planned scripts from you know whom.
Feigning their motions with faintest vigor
That only con their constituencies.
As long as there are have and have-nots
The have-nots will always want; the haves keep.
The rich control the governing body
Middle-class mental midgets elect them.

poem by Albert Ahearn
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Juvenile Earth

What pleasure thou begets by not
Showering traits on those who need not
The brain they desire not
Or is it
To make them realise
The importance of have and have nots

Buddha the apostle of peace
Was born to lead
He ostracised the lead
Disrupting Manu's code
Which established societies bonds.

You have no means
You want to achieve
Desire to achieve
Buried by the meagre means.

The optimum strength of youth
Found a new cradle - the blackhole.
Improvisations they find, in age
And stretch towards the State
That which comes only once
In the blackhole spent
Age, when it comes never leaves
Instead age has to be left behind
Realisations of haves and have nots
Then, left far behind

Arn't we all
Young and old
Living in his laboratory
Code named - Earth
Are tools of his research
The research for an ideal world.

poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Australia's Federal Election 2007

November the twenty fourth is Australia's Election day the campaign for power begin
The winners govern for three years the prize is great to win
They have in them the lust for power they campaign for their own sake
The winners set to govern big egos are at stake.

Who wins or loses Government I can't say I much care
Since from the Election I don't stand to lose or gain of that much I'm aware
Big time politics can be a dirty game and smear politics is an in thing
On their opponents they rake the muck and their own praises they do sing.

Three right wing parties competing for power will not help those in poverty
A Nation without a Socialist Party seems a sad Nation to me
In a so called first World Country in big Cities homeless people on the street
Sleeping rough and searching rubbish bins for thrown out food to eat.

November the twenty fourth is Federal Election voting day and the days of cleanly fought campaigns is long gone
Twenty first century politics is a dirty game and the grab for power is on
The gap between the haves and the have nots is getting wider by the day
And whoever wins will not help the have nots and that seems sad to say.

poem by Francis Duggan
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From History We've Not Learned At All

They have all but rid the World of Communism and given us Capitalism instead
And still millions are living in poverty and millions of children are crying to be fed
And still we have war, terrorism and famines of those will we ever be free
And the gap between the haves and the have nots only widening despite the spread of democracy.

Long gone is the McCarthy era the one who broadcast fear of red
The one who gave rise to the witchhunt of communists under the bed
Yet we still have rank and class distinction for to appease the subservient kind
And still the one eyed king is the ruler of us in the Land of the blind.

And still for God and Country men are warring though the supposed war to end all wars long gone
And still the intolerance of those different amongst the ruling classes live on
And still we have got xenophobia that always lead to crimes of hate
If we are all sisters and brothers how come everyone's not our mate.

We now have the big corporations that only benefit the greedy few
And that a booming economy too benefits the have nots is something that does not ring true
For even in the World's wealthiest Nations you will find poverty in the extreme
And those who talk of an egalatarian World are not realistic 'twould seem.

They have all but rid the World of communism and capitalism is now to the fore
Though poverty is now even more widespread and nothing has changed from days of yore
And still we have wars, terrorism and famines and Empires they rise and they fall
But the lessons of the past we have ignored and from history we've not learned at all.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Sport Just A Diversion

The anthem of Australian Rules Football the song known as 'We'll be there'
And Aussie Rules fans who do not know this song by heart to say the least quite rare
On Saturday after the game at the M C G in groups as they walk along the street
A song sung by the winning fans since victory is sweet.

They sing 'We were there when the boys became the men' their religion is football
And they tell all of those who wish to hear 'the greatest game of all'
But sport is just a diversion from the big problems out there
In the World where the haves make more and the have nots live in despair

Of ever getting anywhere in life they live in poverty
They live their dreams through the success of celebrities that they see on t.v.
And sport is a diversion for them from the reality
Of ever knowing success themselves suppose what is to be will be.

Sport just a diversion from reality for the have nots to enjoy
Poor teenagers dream of sporting fame a dream for most that die
Before they reach their forties when they come to realize
That life is very different when seen through ageing eyes

poem by Francis Duggan
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That Millions Do Live In Poverty

That millions do live in poverty should never be seen as okay
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps getting bigger by the day
Everyone should have the chance to live happy a home to live in and enough for to eat
There never should be slums and ghettos and never a poverty street,
That millions are born to live in poverty and to end their hard lives in despair
Only tells us if there's a god that god favours the wealthy and that god is not very fair
To leave millions homeless and dying of malnutrition the people condemned to die poor and young
In the refugee camps of the World live the displaced, the poor and unsung,
In the age of celebrity worship the poor in millions multiply
Why millions are destined to be poor don't ask me I wouldn't know why
Even in the World's wealthiest Countries poor people are no longer rare
And millions and millions of have nots in the bigger World out there
And millions are dying of hunger and millions are doing it tough
And millions are displaced and homeless and as refugees living it rough.

poem by Francis Duggan
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That's Life One Must Suppose

At the bottom of the social rank and low in self esteem
That's where the haves want to keep the have nots or that's how it does seem
For every new member of the millionaires club there is more poverty
And that people of malnutrition die does not make sense to me,
When many have far more than enough but not enough to satisfy their greed
For them 'twould seem that much wants more that does seem sad indeed
Though some quite wealthy people some of their profits share
Amongst the struggling have nots of the bigger World out there
The social gap keeps widening getting bigger every day
And the poor are getting poorer or so 'twould seem that way
Many hungry and homeless and low in social rank
For the poverty of millions we do have greed to thank
Some have to go for months on end without a change of clothes
And the poor keep getting poorer that's life one must suppose.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Workings Of Human Life

The workings of human life beyond me to explain
How one person's loss is another one's gain
And why some see greed as okay does seem puzzling to me
In this Human world of inequality
The pauper, the homeless, the poor refugee
A quarter of the World's human population in dire poverty
And billions of have nots are doing it tough
Whilst the privileged minority have far more than enough
Of money and every material thing
Yet many too many their praises do sing
In an age when poverty exists everywhere
Life is so hard for many in the big World out there
In a Human world where the gap between the haves and the have nots grow wide
Far too many of a fair go in life are denied.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Flowers of Horror

People who love flowers
Cannot be bad
Says the proverb.

But take the insight
With a grain of salt
For malignant hands
Can turn flowers
Into graceless means
Of lies and deception.

During World War II
The National Socialists
Perfected the dark art
Of deceit by exploiting
The beauty of nature
To disguise and shroud
Their fiendish goals
Of ruin and destruction.

The skies darkened then
Even in the sunshine
Violets trembled
And forget-me-nots
Whispered worries
Wobbling in the wind.

Sixty km north of Prague
A barbed wire fence
Above the camp gate
Of Terezin, the sign said:
Arbeit macht frei.

Here the Nazis set up
The model ghetto
Theresienstadt where
Work made the inmates
Free and they could plant
Colourful flowers.

Buds of starvation
Blossoms of death.

Do not worry
The daffodils said.
This is a friendly place
The hyacinths sighed.
Do not revolt
The roses rustled.

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Hartal
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Cloaked In Darkness

Things for them were going great...
When the 'haves' could separate themselves,
From those hungry and homeless.
Those they chose to invalidate.

'God don't like ugly! '
My mother always said to me.
And I knew she meant what people did.
Not what they appeared to be.

And many people were caught up,
Doing some very ugly things.
Because they believed their misdeeds done...
Were cloaked in darkness and never would be seen.

'God don't like ugly! '
My mother always said to me.
And I knew she meant what people did.
Not what they appeared to be.

Things for them were going great...
When the 'haves' could separate themselves,
From those hungry and homeless.
Those they chose to invalidate.

'God don't like ugly! '
My mother always said to me.
'God don't like ugly! '
My mother always said to me.
'God don't like ugly! '
My mother always said to me.

~Okay, okay Ma! Geeessshhh. I get it.
Well, they did it to me first.~

'Oh?
So that makes it okay,
For one monkey to steal all of the bananas...
To keep other monkeys deprived? '

~But Ma...we are not talking about monkeys.~

'We're not talking about squirrels either!
But does it make the act right? '

~Okay, okay Ma! Geeessshhh. I get it.
I think.~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Joe, the Soldier

You have uniform, stripes and badges you are a hero at last.
No longer alone but in a group and you do as you’re told.
They tell you to fight for your country, but omit telling you
that the same country gave you nothing because you’re poor,
and now you are dying for it. Working class, when they send
your casket home your father is proud. Death on a battlefield
to preserve the haves way of life. Your parents get a medal
of lies to put on the mantel piece. When they see they have
been made fools of they have lost the will to protest.
If they voice their anger over your futile death they will not
be believed, their neighbours are stupid, and lack loyalty to
their own class and so it goes on.
The haves can fool you all the time...yes,
forever my friend....Unless you opt for insurrection.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Obama! Obama!

From Bungoma to Oklahoma
It's Obama! Obama! Our Barack Obama.
Lips and tongues ululate your name, and
Your ideology is a hot topic within the intelligentsia.

Are you the real reincarnation
Of Martin Luther and his King-size dream.
In broad daylight, Luther dreamt of no color or race.
Can you dare to dream of a paradise of all faces.

Are you, by all means necessary,
Like Malcolm with his big X on racism,
Striving and struggling for racial harmony?
Can you harmonize between the haves and the haves not?

Obama! Obama! Our Barack Obama
Before they scare you with Bin Laden Osama
Please turn into a bridge between races
And become a cauldron of peace in the Middle East.

[2008 Kajaani]

poem by Lauwo George
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