Cabaret ~ Money
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“There is only one class in the community that thinks more about money than the rich, and that is the poor.” ― Oscar Wilde
“Money is like manure; it's not worth a thing unless it's spread around encouraging young things to grow.” ― Thornton Wilder
“Money does not change the sickness, only the symptoms.”
Fiddler on the Roof ~ If I Were a Rich Man
Midweek Motif ~ Money
It's Women's History Month, so feel free to link women's history and money in your poem if you wish. I think poets of all genders would do marvelous and beautiful things with money.
What do you think?
What do you think?
Your Challenge: Wend ideas of money throughout your new poem. What does money do? What did it do? What can it do?
ABBA ~ Money Money Money
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by Sara Teasdale
I have no riches but my thoughts,
Yet these are wealth enough for me;
My thoughts of you are golden coins
Stamped in the mint of memory;
And I must spend them all in song,
For thoughts, as well as gold, must be
Left on the hither side of death
To gain their immortality.
And I must spend them all in song,
For thoughts, as well as gold, must be
Left on the hither side of death
To gain their immortality.
YOU NEVER GIVE ME YOUR MONEY ~ BEATLES COLLABORATION
by
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
From Sonnets UncorsetedBY MAXINE KUMIN. . . .9We didn’t merely saunter decade by decade.We swept on past de Beauvoir and Friedan,and took courage from Carolyn Kizer’s knife-bladePro Femina: I will speak about womenof letters for I’m in the racket, urging,Stand up and be hated, and swear not to sleep with editors.If a woman is to write, Virginia Woolfhas Mary Beton declare, she has to havefive hundred a year and a room with a lock on the door,a sacred space where Shakespeare’s sister Judithmight have equaled his prodigious giftor not. She might have simply floated there,set loose in the privilege of privacy, her selfunwritten, under no one else’s eyes…. . . .(Read the rest HERE.)💵Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community—(Next week Sumana’s Midweek Motif will be ~ Scream)
