O Poor People
Let us invoke a healthy heart-breaking
Towards the horrible world:
Let us say 0 poor people
How can they help being so absurd,
Misguided, abused, misled?
With unsifted saving graces jostling about
On a mucky medley of needs,
Like love-lit shit,
Year after cyclic year
The unidentifiable flying god is missed.
Emotions sit in their heads disguised as judges,
Or are twisted to look like mathematical formulae,
And only a scarce god-given scientist notices
His trembling lip melting the heart of the rat.
Whoever gave us the idea somebody loved us?
Far in our wounded depths faint memories cry,
A vision flickers below subliminally
But immanence looms unbearably: TURN IT OFF! they hiss.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (O Poor People by Elizabeth Smart )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- I Dream A World, Langston Hughes
- As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
- Mother to Son, Langston Hughes
- Let America be America Again, Langston Hughes
- I, Too, Langston Hughes
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- April Rain Song, Langston Hughes
- Democracy, Langston Hughes
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou