"pelf" poems
Are you struck with her figure and face?
How lucky you happened to meet
With none of the gossiping race,
Who dwell in this horrible street!
They of slanderous hints never tire;
I love to approve and commend,
And the lady you so much admire,
Is my very particular friend!
How charming she looks — her dark curls
Really float with a natural air;
And the beads might be taken for pearls,
That arc twined in that beautiful hair:
Then what tints her fair features o'erspread -
That she uses white paint some pretend;
But, believe me, she only wears red
She's my very particular friend!
Then her voice, how divine it appears
While carolling: "Rise gentle moon;"
Lord Crotchet lastnight stopped his ears,
And declared that she sung out of tune;
For my part, I think that her lay
Might to Malibran's sweetness pretend;
But people won't mind what I say —
I'm her very particular friend!
Then her writings — her exquisite rhyme
To posterity surely must reach;
(I wonder she finds so much time
With four little sisters to teach!)
A critic in Blackwood, indeed.
Abused the last poem she penned;
The article made my heart bleed —
She's my very particular friend!
Her brother dispatched with a sword,
His friend in a duel, last June;
And her cousin eloped from her lord,
With a handsome and whiskered dragoon:
Her father with duns is beset,
Yet continues to dash and to spend —
She's too good for so worthless a set —
She's my very particular friend!
All her chance of a portion is lost,
And I fear she'll be single for life;
Wise people will count up the cost
Of a gay and extravagant wife:
But tis odious to marry for pelf,
(Though the times are not likely to mend,)
She's a fortune besides in herself —
She's my very particular friend!
That she's somewhat sarcastic and pert,
It were useless and vain to deny;
She's a little too much of a flirt,
And a slattern when no one is by:
From her servants she constantly parts,
Before they have reached the year's end;
But her heart is the kindest of hearts —
She's my very particular friend!
Oh! never have pencil or pen,
A creature more exquisite traced;
That her style does not take with the men,
Proves a sad want of judgment and taste;
And if to the sketch I give now,
Some flattering touches I lend;
Do for partial affection allow —
She's my very particular friend!
15.3k
What is this, Lord Jesus, that Thou shouldst make an end
Of all that I possess, and give Thyself to me?
So that there is nothing now to call my own
Save Thee; Thyself alone my treasure.
Taking all, Thou givest full measure of Thyself
With all things else eternal—
Things unlike the mouldly pelf by earth possessed.
But as to life and godliness, all things are mine
And in God's garments dressed I am;
With Thee, an heir to riches in the spheres divine.
Strange, I say, that suffering loss
I have so gained everything in getting
Me a friend who bore a cross.
~ Jim Elliot (1927-1956)
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
Recall all the sweet moments in life
Those that you want to re-live again
Sure there are a million of them
Joyous and sweet, exciting and engaging
Let us freeze those moments in time
Too precious to go off our heart
They make life worth living
And give each fresh day a kick start
In our mad rush for power and pelf
Many such moments skip by unnoticed
Moments of great beauty and grace
And wonders that still lie undisclosed
Have you forgotten to laugh over a prank?
Have you stopped watching a lovely scene?
Have you evaded a gregarious company?
Have you failed to enjoy a savory cuisine?
Break free of the ropes that bind
Let loose the spirit within
Shed out your dry reticence n’ reserve
Let your geniality, many hearts win
Crack a joke, laugh out loud
Wear a smile, walk an extra mile
Chill out, lose in the beauty of the dusk
Praise someone without any guile
No matter you are seventy or seventeen
Still spry enough to have frolic and fun
Youthful enough to cherish hopes and dreams
For life affably beckons and is not done!
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 7:14 AM UTC
551
There is a Shame of Nobleness—
Confronting Sudden Pelf—
A finer Shame of Ecstasy—
Convicted of Itself—
A best Disgrace—a Brave Man feels—
Acknowledged—of the Brave—
One More—”Ye Blessed”—to be told—
But that’s—Behind the Grave—
1.8k
Born free,
what have you been branded to buy as truth?
You couldn't help but consume the prime conditioning,
angelic thing, they manipulated your blank, slated value with price
Impressionable infant, deficient heuristics anchored in tradition
were all you were given, they represented trend's definition of right
Blind to blinders set by frames,
you will never long for sky you've never seen
While you've been growing, who's been leading?
Who's been sowing, who's been reaping?
Now you are as you're told.
Now you are as you're sold.
You didn't see how your movements were determined: causal reinforcement and cogged belief systems
Hunters exploit the needs of the herd and they traded you meaning for all you were worth
Customerary compliance made you meek and the markets less violent
Your standardized schema had felt so secure, while their fashion pruned passion's significant core
Blind to blinders set by frames,
you cannot be free if you don't see your cage
While you've been growing, who's been sneaking?
Who's been sowing, who has been reaping?
Now you are as you're told.
Now you are as you're sold.
They'll come as salesman, promised happiness in their wares
They'll come as preachers, with taxing cross for you to bear
They'll come for your time, your money
They'll come for your life, and your sunny days
will be grey without that which you never knew you needed
No, you never ever needed
What have you been branded to buy as truth?
You won't choose to see your reflection on the discount shelf,
reduced to pelf, you let them establish the goods so you could be saved
from spending efficient economy, it's ironic that you're their battery
and though their floor is your slaved ceiling, you give your Self away
You won't see your light inside
if you're guided by other selfish minds!
How did you begin?
What have you been?
Who are you now?
Jul 5, 2011
Jul 5, 2011 at 7:27 PM UTC
High atop the spire beneath a cloudless sky
the Cross stands forlorn Christmas is nigh
since long in the past time beyond recall
no bells chime here sung no carol!
But still its heart flutters as it hears the Lord's voice
*I carried your burden and set for you the choice
to do this world much good and love your fellow men
be happy in others' happiness take share of their pain*!
Kind Lord mutters the Cross *men still live for gain
act the way it seems your blood was shed in vain
they war and breed hatred between them raise wall
hanker for pelf and power in their loss they squall*!
The church lies abandoned starkly white and bare
only the Cross bows to the Lord in silent prayer
still hoping it's not far away when the bells would ring
the Lord would carry the Cross on his second coming!
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 8:56 AM UTC
The chalice golden Am I for a wine ancient
Containing ever the sacred intoxication high
Of life,existence, a procreator genius of genesis.
Wearing bikinis sexily scant,or clad fully,
I am a mother, a sister, a friend and a lover.
An enigma am I,of possession incapable,
By minds, bodies, louts or even men noble,
Being oppressed, I live free in that place divine
Unknown to power, pelf and brains crazed.
I laugh O men and smile sardonic inward
At your strengths so mightily Herculean
Desiring my feet and secrets of the Heart
Beyond you am I,your gazes greedy and
Temporary prowesses all assumed false,
My world a paradox,life a walk that talks,
Of little sensitive things full of wisdom old.
Nobly loving yet abused, worshipped reverent,
Yet beaten, ***** exploited,I shall ever be proud,
Rising as the phoenix, as a mother earth kind,
Toned lithe,creased ancient,ever more powerful.
And flowing like a river I become the ocean.
Hold me still without a desire, unpossessive,
Then my love may touch you ever so briefly.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
Always love or like, all alike,
Kin or none, friend or foe; hate none,
Lift yourself above all weakness,
Emerge strong & hit the ultimate goal.
Believe in boundless bliss beyond 25
Purge yourself out and converge pure;
Free from lust, greed, anger & delusion.
Look behind the eye for truth beyond,
Unscathed by matter that does not matter
Believe in boundless bliss beyond 26
Cultivate prayer of the ultimate Supreme
Be good, do good and go with the good
No good to amass wealth without sharing
The poor and destitute deserve a better deal
Believe in boundless bliss beyond 27
Absorbed in pursuit of carnal desires,
Life culminates to cease in disease,
Mind is blind and blank of virtues till end,
Sins & sinners rule the roost without end.
Believe in boundless bliss beyond 28
Wealth that reigns is none but one that ruins,
Rich are frightened by the shadows they cast,
Joy of pelf pales off in hoarding and hiding,
Spiritual health is holier than physical wealth
Believe in boundless bliss beyond 29
Regulate breath, sensitize sense,
Condition the body and soul,
Through meditation and prayer,
Free the fickle mind to firm up,
And search for eternal delight.
Believe in boundless bliss beyond 30
Stir up your inner eye more focused,
Behold; the Lord lives in your heart,
All you need is a mentor that helps,
To liberate yourself from material life,
And capture the rapture all abound.
Believe in boundless bliss beyond 31
Worship of the Lordship is the only ship
To cruise and cross the ocean of life,
Be it chanting sacred hymns in extol,
Or be it a service to untidy society,
The essence of life is to transcend,
And attain Supreme above the self.
Believe in boundless bliss beyond. 32
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
High atop the spire beneath a cloudless sky
the Cross stands forlorn Christmas is nigh
since long in the past time beyond recall
no bells chime here is sung no carol!
But its heart still flutters as hears the Lord's voice
*I carried your burden and set for you the choice
to do this world much good and love your fellow men
be happy in others' happiness take share of their pain!*
Kind Lord mutters the Cross *men still live for gain
act the way it seems your blood was shed in vain
they war and breed hatred between them raise wall
hanker for pelf and power in their loss they squall!*
The church lies abandoned starkly white and bare
only the Cross bows to the Lord in silent prayer
hoping it's not far away when the bells would ring
the Lord would carry the Cross on his second coming!
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 10:37 AM UTC
Destiny,Fate?
and how hard is it?
it winds wield pity ,
with a jungle of concrete built
why havent i found
what ive been looking for?
In big and narrow spaces
in hugs and embraces
of my own and of strangers
why am i not bound
for what im hoping for?
And i see empathy on the mask
of the faces so dark
in coherence of my non-belonging self
and with might or pelf
of my won so called pride,
my emotions divide to see
and tell me
tenderly
what is it again that im looking for?
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 9:39 AM UTC
The receding horizon,
The fading light of day,
Azure taking a livid hue.
Pokhran's hot, scorching sand,
A lash on our moribund logic.
Death and Life, Life and Death-
Religion and Atheism, Nobel and Booker,
Make us proud and shiver,
Make us happy, rob us of gaiety,
Shoot all our fragile hopes to artistic acme.
Smash all our favourite dreams to smithereens.
The Ganga meanders amidst a maze of
Ripples, crest and trough-
With a dour askance,
With a nonsensical exterior,
At the dead of night,
The hoary-headed ***** rises,
To take stock of pelf,
He keeps in hiding,
Looka yonder, the man with a rice plate in his shack
Stirs out of his lumber, in a jiffy,
Dawns cracks, leaves rustle, breezes whistles,
The nightingale still chirps coo, coo, coo....
Breaking the calm of a nostalgic daybreak.
Love buffoonery, antics of sweet urchin,
Effrontery, betrayal, self-destructive urge,
Blinds love toting niggling details of despair
In it's womb.
A silver of modernism, none can deny,
Gleaning the core of every 'ism' in it's *****
Roads, alleys crisscross, end of tunnel seems dark.
At least, a hairpin bend,
Across the debris of a fresh landslide,
A ray of hope, a shaft of optimism,
A changed universe, a reclaimed Utopia.
Coming true!
-Subhanjan Saha
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
The receding horizon,
The fading light of day,
Azure taking a livid hue.
Pokhran's hot, scorching sand,
A lash on our moribund logic.
Death and Life, Life and Death-
Religion and Atheism, Nobel and Booker,
Make us proud and shiver,
Make us happy, rob us of gaiety,
Shoot all our fragile hopes to artistic acme.
Smash all our favourite dreams to smithereens.
The Ganga meanders amidst a maze of
Ripples, crest and trough-
With a dour askance,
With a nonsensical exterior,
At the dead of night,
The hoary-headed ***** rises,
To take stock of pelf,
He keeps in hiding,
Looka yonder, the man with a rice plate in his shack
Stirs out of his lumber, in a jiffy,
Dawns cracks, leaves rustle, breezes whistles,
The nightingale still chirps coo, coo, coo....
Breaking the calm of a nostalgic daybreak.
Love buffoonery, antics of sweet urchin,
Effrontery, betrayal, self-destructive urge,
Blinds love toting niggling details of despair
In it's womb.
A silver of modernism, none can deny,
Gleaning the core of every 'ism' in it's *****
Roads, alleys crisscross, end of tunnel seems dark.
At least, a hairpin bend,
Across the debris of a fresh landslide,
A ray of hope, a shaft of optimism,
A changed universe, a reclaimed Utopia.
Coming true!
-Subhanjan Saha
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 2:05 AM UTC
Of a truth love I thee, glamorous lady.
I though no fortune nor fame have
Which mine I truly can call, save
In my heart affection's pretty penny.
Hope I my situation shall no impediment
Be to me having thy sweet sultry self?
Though I'll force for thee nay from hell pelf,
Yet shall I ensure thy heavenly enjoyment.
Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 2:53 AM UTC
in their formative years
these stars burnt bright
movie theatres took them
on a stratospheric flight
they became famous
for being kids of talented nerve
the rolling camera's
showing their dynamic verve
yet the tinsel clad images
weren't portraying the true self
child actors were a studio's
road to greedy pelf
when reaching the teenage
period of their existence
drugs and alcohol plagued them
with much persistence
something was absent
as they grew to adulthood
little or no care given by
pushy parents in their childhood
tiny stars that once twinkled
did fall hard on the ground
their careers in dream flicks
bought them all unbound
Hollywood's picture factory
wasn't substantive in its part
which left many juveniles
to feel so aggrieved of heart
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 12:59 AM UTC
Simmering youth
On adultery flame
Of passionate dreams
Under the ******
Of thirsty hunger, hankering
To anchor the pranks
Of pubertal parking
Slipped into slumber sullen
At the trick of biometric-clock
The intrinsic instinct awake amidst,
Awoke his inner self off the shelf
In pursuit of pelf of passion
In a stress-free realm of dreams
Infatuation surfed n’ spun its web
Obsessive, his highness sought
Unfair affair with her fairness
In his dreamy creamy fare
That planted a futile kiss
With a figurative hiss
On her fertile cheek n’ chin
Raw was war at love he saw
Alas, the best of his lovely lass
Perhaps never to figure out
From his naughty mesh
Of wish of vanishing dreams
That often franchise and fantasize
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 9:23 PM UTC
High atop the spire beneath a cloudless sky
the Cross stands forlorn Christmas is nigh
since long in the past time beyond recall
no bells chime here sung no carol!
But still its heart flutters as it hears the Lord's voice
*I carried your burden and set for you the choice
to do this world much good and love your fellow men
be happy in others' happiness take share of their pain!*
Kind Lord mutters the Cross *men still live for gain
act the way it seems your blood was shed in vain
they war and breed hatred between them raise wall
hanker for pelf and power in their loss they squall!*
The church lies abandoned starkly white and bare
only the Cross bows to the Lord in silent prayer
still hoping it's not far away when the bells would ring
the Lord would carry the Cross on his second coming!
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
mighty armies of pelf attack,
grannaries one by one surrender.
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 10:43 PM UTC
This poem is no Billy’s babble,
I know this girl who tends to dabble,
Dabble with unkind creatures.
She’s beautious, dark, and loyalty-tied,
Non-gregarious, starry-eyed;
Starry-eyed for the inexpedient.
Wit is written on skin so fair
Eyes like skies, too deep to pare.
But pare her idea of ideal men.
Challenge, with whom her morals meet,
Picks scoundrels, wreaking calm deceit.
Deceitful words are hooks to her.
Beknownst to all but she herself,
These rogues take riches, turned to pelf.
Pelf, for she is better than them.
Too low they sink below her merit,
Her virtue, they could stand to inherit,
Inheriting her in return.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
It was killed before it was tortured
nothing dead could be hurt they said
but what was hurt here was already dead
what had taken years and nurtured
you killed it, World
be cursed, and behold
sinner! here comes the night
And slowly does it strike
the spark of the stars
the final hours
i cry ****** ******
and i dare you run
and see your conscience be a deserter
And i shall give a death not from a gun
neither a blade for the matter
but i shall ****
Vanquish your pride first
then end the thirst for your
recognitions so utterly desired
and **** your self
with the pelf
you killed mine
and in hopes of this the night shall dine
with your fears and resentment
while i shall feast in your fears
Here I come...
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 9:59 AM UTC
Simmering youth
On adultery flame
Of passionate dreams
Under the ******
Of thirsty hunger, hankering
To anchor the pranks
Of pubertal parking
Slipped into slumber sullen
At the trick of biometric-clock
The intrinsic instinct awake amidst,
Awoke his inner self off the shelf
In pursuit of pelf of passion
In a stress-free realm of dreams
Infatuation surfed n’ spun its web
Obsessive, his highness sought
Unfair affair with her fairness
In his dreamy creamy fare
That planted a futile kiss
With a figurative hiss
On her fertile cheek n’ chin
Raw was war at love he saw
Alas, the best of his lovely lass
Perhaps never to figure out
From his naughty mesh
Of wish of vanishing dreams
That often franchise and fantasize
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
Simmering youth
On adultery flame
Of passionate dreams
Under the ******
Of thirsty hunger, hankering
To anchor the pranks
Of pubertal parking
Slipped into slumber sullen
At the trick of biometric-clock
The intrinsic instinct awake amidst,
Awoke his inner self off the shelf
In pursuit of pelf of passion
In a stress-free realm of dreams
Infatuation surfed n’ spun its web
Obsessive, his highness sought
Unfair affair with her fairness
In his dreamy creamy fare
That planted a futile kiss
With a figurative hiss
On her fertile cheek n’ chin
Raw was war at love he saw
Alas, the best of his lovely lass
Perhaps never to figure out
From his naughty mesh
Of wish of vanishing dreams
That often franchise and fantasize
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 7:24 AM UTC
Once in darkness and in gloom
I traveled down a path of doom
And in my heart there was no room
There was no light much like a tomb
I did not want to ever change
Or my life to rearrange
At that time I did exchange
Our Father's love and did estrange
All I thought of was myself
Self indulging with my pelf
His love I put upon a shelf
Separating me from Himself
Accepting this, my final state
I thought for me it was too late
Having no chance to change my fate
For my destiny willing to wait
Then one day I heard a call
From two voices, meek and small
With His power they did enthrall
And in my heart, faith did install
I knew not they'd changed my heart
Father's plan began to start
And my path He did re-chart
From whence I was I did depart
The seed they'd planted in my soul
Began my life to extol
Beginning to take for me control
As in a new life I did enroll
Though His love I did betray
He would forgive without delay
All my sins would wash away
With Him forever I could stay
I know Heavenly Father's love
The redemption He gave me from above
Through His Son whom I know of
The Holy Spirit came as a dove
Of this end there is no fear
The Lord My God is to me near
The Iron Rod my path does steer
A path I walk to me so dear
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
Ms Lovepeace
Seeks no fame nor pelf
She feels bliss
When left to herself.
She craves not company
Loves not to party
For her the best moment
Is one with herself spent.
For this queer nature of Ms Lovepeace
She wasn’t ever anybody’s heartthrob
Nor was ever her cheek pecked a kiss
All she ever heard was o such a snob.
She likes it that way, she doesn’t demur
The unflattering things said behind her
She wants it and it makes her happy
Times she spends in her own company.
You may think it too mean
This dislike of her own kin
But Ms Lovepeace doesn’t mind the cost
Of enjoying the peace in her permafrost.
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 7:42 AM UTC