Sugary drinks and decadent sweet desserts
indulgent chocolate and crumbling cookies
lavish ice cream - refreshing on summer days
entice my senses - craving more and more
nectarous delights of luscious nirvana
tantalize my taste buds calming my soul
Kiss of death - having a sweet tooth
ignorantly naive to the damage it causes
lusting forbidden vices that were devoured
life is never the same when diagnosed diabetic
erratic disease can be hereditary - constantly
reminded by how my mother suffers from it
22 November 2015
A Vice You Love - Poetry Contest by Rob Carmack
In diabetes, rising blood sugar acts like a poison. The World Health Organization estimate that over 382 million people worldwide including 3.2 million people in the UK have diabetes.
Diabetes is often called the silent killer because of its easy-to-miss symptoms.
Diabetes affects 24 million people in the U.S., but only 18 million know they have it. About 90% of those people have type 2 diabetes.
Having a blood test will reveal if you have diabetes. I would highly recommend it.
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015
Sandy was a chocoholic,
The worst I've ever seen!
If she didn't eat some daily,
She'd become crazy mean!
It didn't matter what kind it was,
Ice cream, cake, pie or candy,
As long as it was chocolate,
Sandy was fine and dandy!
Then one day the unthinkable happened,
To the chocolate loving miss,
While eating her favorite candy,
She choked on a chocolate kiss!
"Death by chocolate," the coroner concluded,
As to the cause of Sandy's death.
At least she died doing what she loved,
Eating chocolate til her last breath.
11/21/11 for Natalie the Rogue Rhymer's
"Die a fun Death" contest
Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2011
When I think of the plight that children face all over the world
I just want to cry
Hunger starts and ends their everyday
As many of us continue to waste away
The scraps that we toss could save a child’s life
I’ll tell you the human race is nothing nice
We have no problem spending trillions on war
As children starve to death outside a millionaires store
They put locks on the dumpsters to keep them out
To greedy to give what they are throwing out
I watched a show just the other day
That showed Children just wasting away
Right there in their mothers arms
As I ate my giant bowl of lucky charms
Pirates raiding off the Somalia Coast
Because their children’s eyes are hollow as a ghost
If my Children were starving these words are true
Captain Hook wouldn’t hold a light to you know who
I think in the overhaul scheme of wrong and right
Mankind in general has lost all sight
Could you imagine kissing your child’s last breath?
The rich get richer as they starve to death
So as you all tuck your kids into bed tonight
Kids all over the world will lose their fight
They will simply lie down and die
To hungry to fight to weak to cry
Shelters that feed the Hungry are in every
town, when was the last time that you gave
something. No person is any greater than the
depth of their compassion. To give is to receive
for there is no greater blessing in this life. Keep
what you need and give the rest and the Lord will
make sure you never run out. God Bless, MJ
Written for Sami's contest
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009
No Bread. Why?
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Big round dark eyes staring at forgetfulness.
Eating nothingness, feeling helplessness.
Scavenging the streets for morsels finding hopelessness.
Foraging to fill a swollen abdomen full of emptiness.
Holding death securely within mothers’ bleakness.
Too hungry to show love and too hungry to cry-
But not too hungry to die-
Mankind’s blindness and heaped up forgetfulness, sighs.
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2009
Written May '85 when I was 14
It's truly a shame in our day and time
that a child goes hungry: it should be a crime.
We say look ahead to a bright new dawn,
but tell that to a mother when her child is gone.
The baby died in her arms - she fell fast asleep.
They're used to it now and don't even weep.
The sickness, the death, it's not in a dream.
It's so close to home, but it's not even seen.
The cities, the slums, the famine, the drought -
we've got to do something. It won't work itself out.
There's food in the world, let's show that we care.
The children are dying - it's so hard to bare.
Many are dying and many more dead.
No food, no clothes, cold ground for a bed.
It's a serious thing, and oh it's so fatal.
LISTEN TO ME WORLD!
There's hunger in the cradle.
Copyright © Brian Dempsey | Year Posted 2015
was taking a bath on hills.
Trees were waiting
for the curtains to rise.
Scented stars would make
giant scars on the clouds,
I would make peace with the sky.
Lids of human greed were laden
with golden dust, I was hoisting the skull.
Of a virgin god who did not
want to live for the blotched up creation.
The decline was obvious. Truth
had refused to climb
on the sky-blue, salted peaks of springs.
Body had arrived,
mourners quietly wailing.
Gouged eyes could not decipher
the script on the halved pyramid.
Sun was sucking the clay.
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2008
A is for algae, red, green, blue cells, soaking up sun, sliming teeth
B is for bacterial mat, clumping underneath, earliest born, never asleep
C is for coral reef, the place we all find cover or the sand parrotfish chew and release
D is for diatom, all seeded calcium, all float free, all denizens barely seen
E is for eelgrass, nursery meadows of the anchovy, and other browsers of green
F is for fan worm, filter feeder like a flower, 8000 species on which fish feed
G is for giant kelp, floating on bladders of air they’re forests of cold waters clean
H is for helmet, the royalty of snails who protect our feet, queen, emperor, king
I is for isopod, the chameleon crustacean, they color match what they eat
J is for jellyball, or cannonball jellyfish, not upside down or moon, avoid their heat
K is for keyhole limpet, favorite food of ochre stars, will erect its own wall
L is for laver, the sea lettuce of nori, it swirls red skirt as ocean falls
M is for mermaid’s purse, the sack of the skate whose yolk keeps them alive
N is for nerite, the prisoner striped snail of the rocky zone as numerous as a hive
O is for oyster drills, the snails that slurp oysters and use them to lay eggs
P is for pleurobranch, a sea slug answer for oranges, with one active leg
Q is for quahog, the bivalve seaman who can survive eating the mud
R is for rove beetle, the one waiting to snatch the unwary beach hopper for good
S is for saxitoxin, those red tides produced by mating that can paralyze humans
T is for tubular sponge, they squish, bore and encrust as space lends
U is for urchin, those spiny skinned balls, no eyes or noses but dig food in sand
V is for Venus, Music Volutes dined or Vampire Squids skimming along land
W is for whelk, not the musically inclined, but the slow moving snail in a shell
X is for X and a half, the six rayed star, hungry for anything on the half shell
Y is for yucca, blooming on the beach, they bloom nice and tolerate the sand
Z is for Zostera marinara, the address of eel grass when they're feeling grand
All of this green life is what crunches, stinks, dries and slips underfoot
The rest that find the housing and dining compatible means someone’s on the look.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.
Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.
Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass
Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws
Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.
Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.
Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015
orange scattered skies
an awaited breeze
watching the birds
form tree to trees
a thunder clap
distance dusk howling sounds
then the unmistakable movement
it slashes, ripping, gurgling moans
just a victim of the game
on top of the food chain
as I walk I cast a shadow long
blend in café ridden side walks
it’s moves are precise
just another prey in life
on top of the food chain
when you move you leave it clues
no doubt it’s on top of you
your eyes dart back and forth
moving from side to side
15 minutes of fame
My life on top of the food chain
Copyright © gregory ramos | Year Posted 2014
Let me tell you about a guy Pete.
If it’s true that we are what we eat,
he would just have to be
loved by everybody
because he would be something sweet!
On sweets Pete could never get full,
so he’d eat all his cakes and pies whole!
With each passing year
his widening rear
more resembled a large jelly roll.
With gusto Pete daily transgressed,
chowing down on desserts he liked best,
never giving one thought
to the things that he ought -
like that thing going wrong in his chest. . . .
It occurred after Pete had dug in
to some pastries, his favorite sin.
In his chair Pete had plopped
when his heart simply stopped -
But his jelly smeared mouth wore a grin!
For the "Die A 'Fun' Death Contest Poetry Contest"
hosted by Natalie the Rogue Rhymer
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
It was the Southern French window blowing open
he came in the night no word spoken
The eyes so sensual and piercing me as if nothing matters
he is all I think of now as each day I grow weaker
I will soon die unsure of my fate
my life I will give to him a offering I ask him to take
This man so desirable with dark eyes and hair
even if he is not a man but a beast
I no longer care I submit to the last drop of blood
As I lay with a cotton white gown in a locked room
I throw my rope of Garlic far to be seen
Nothing can stop this now longing and lustful
feeling like I'm in a forever dream
I wait for him too enter
I wait for him
willing to die
I wait losing my Religion
The Vampires offering am I
" For That Archaic Poets contest " Shanity Rain
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
Heaven's Rainbow Bridge
green grass and blue skys
fresh water and food to eat
no hunger--no pain
dear friends wait beyond
prismatic spectrumed colours
heaven's rainbow bridge
In 1994, William N. Britton wrote the , "Legend of Rainbow Bridge". It is a hope filled story of where all (pets) "special friends" go when they leave this earth. It's a place of "beautiful meadows, grassy hills...fresh spring water...plenty of their favorite food to eat...others to play with...". That place is called "Rainbow Bridge" and it is where they wait until we get there, "just this side of Heaven", so we may go in together. db
Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012
chinese food dripping sauce
spicy beef and noodles
steaming vegetable rice
eggrolls and plum dip
spareribs and garlic
oh so delicious- most of us have all the food
we want but wait I do not have to go far away
within canada in my proud country
there is starvation poverty and death
now this will never be taught in schools but not a secret
that our first prime minister sir john a macdonald
starved aboriginal people into submission deliberately
to clear a path for the canadian pacific railway
his national dream . . .
it was not enough that fur trades brought diseases
but they hunted the bison almost to extinction
leaving the aboriginals starving and desperate
the government withheld food
until the first nation people agreed
to live on reservations
designated areas trapped and humiliated
unable to leave they could not farm not hunt
dependent on the government for food
and if they complained
the substandard food rations were cut food
contaminated withheld children died many died
sir john boasted of the indigenous people
"on the verge of actual starvation" some hero
and even today 2015 there is widespread poverty
starvation on first nation reserves in canada
access to drinking water(laced with e coli)
high price food (brought by air)
living on welfare (with no way out)
oh no I do not have to go far to see starvation
slum conditions overcrowding sewage backups
garbage and broken houses and extreme poverty
it is a national disgrace
oh yes there are some sanitized reservations
there are some really pretty places but still
there are many not so nice
it is a horrible situation the hopelessness agonizing
and what is the answer the circle that goes on
and on since sir john a macdonald stole
their land their way of life
the government of canada should be ashamed
to allow this in this day and age
in my proud country it is breaking my heart
July 2, 2015
Epulaeryu and Free Verse
For the contest, Food Can't Live With, Can't Live Without It
Sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
And Boy you Best Stay buckled in
or so help me.
And Girl you Best Make him
or so help me
does my saint-y mama
want to die before me.
does my useless papa
just want my useless money.
Copyright © or dallas | Year Posted 2014
Poem for contest: Short Shift, prison,
betrayal, dance, death, death of a friend, destiny,, food,
Short Shrift Betrayal!
Governor's out to dine and dance
With important guests who count
Invitation requested to attend
One five star restaurant uptown
Menu fair is set for seven courses
Savannah cigars and vintage wine
Will be served before and after meals
All timed for 10:00 and well before
Midnight when a dance is to be staged
Toasts before and after dinner is a given
One guest of the Governor's will not attend
Unless the invitation to get away arrives
But he is in for a special treat if not
An execution dinner has been prepared
Prison chef does his five star best to comply
To the wishes for this last dinner course
Of just roast turkey with all the trimmings
Provided with paper hats and prizes gifted
In a traditional Christmas wrapped cracker
And all this sent below at 10:00 right on the dot
To be eaten in plenty of time before the ‘last call’
When this prisoner becomes the Governor's guest
To ‘walk the line’downtown into a cold lit private room
Made of steal to sit in the 'chair'at midnight
Where electrocution will make him dance his last
And his last words will be I'm innocent!
Copyright © Diane M Quinlan | Year Posted 2015
Widow in making
Copyright © M. Hussain Effendi | Year Posted 2011
Head hung low, I walk the street-
Timid to feel the hangman's loss-
Every step on my blistered feet-
Takes me closer to, the Christian cross-
With every second, my soul does exhaust-
Heat-ridden cheeks from tears I cry-
Hide my eyes my shame is discreet-
Explain to me God, why must I die?
You say the hunger game I did cheat-
I see on that hangman's rope your hands across-
How close I was to starvation beat-
Why must I die for naught but sauce-
On bread instead of my usual moss-
I hope you see my little child cry-
Although to you unjust is a treat-
Hold him God on the day he will die-
With my head hung low, I walk the street-
My family will feel the hangman;s loss-
No more will I walk upon these blistered feet-
Family go, live your life by the Christian Cross-
For my soul is tired, don't let your life exhaust-
My dear sweet loved ones there is no need to cry-
No more reason for you to stand all so discreet-
I am happy at last, on the day that I die-
I will live the rest of my life upon a Christian's Cross-
These murderers relax themselves on their own lie-
In a few short moments I won't feel anymore loss-
I will lift up my head and all so proudly I will die-
Copyright © Jordan Dickinson | Year Posted 2012
when my body is done
put me in an oven
and bury my ashes in a
sea salt shaker
scatter me sparingly
as you would
a fine condiment
in a recipe
into your daily life
during its preparation
we may add the flavor
and the texture
of the past
when it is all gone
the sea salt shaker
Copyright © RUDOLPH RINALDI | Year Posted 2013
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.
21 February 2013
Copyright © Smail Poems | Year Posted 2013
Come little children- come and eat-There’s plenty all scattered about
Stale flat bread and biscuit crumbles -You must dig them out
Banana peelings and lettuce leafs -You may clean the dirt off neat
Perhaps the peelings of a Fu Fu dish- just to make a sweet
Come little one- come and eat- The little child’s belly cries
The flies will lead you to bush meat- the maggots where it lies
Coconut and cassava cakes- perhaps a little rice
Just below the burning heap where the neighbor’s dead dog lies
The smorgasbord lies beyond the hill-the town’s other side
Forgive the stench- just pass the boneyard -where your nine year old brother died
Copyright © Mark Goodson | Year Posted 2012
In the city of young lovers
Of those lost philosophers
I rushed there to be
Walking along ancient stone
I was flooded
The rains would not stop
Depressions grasp soon to make me drop
Surrounded by poetry
Buried in the authors plume
Black ink crawls all over
Devouring what little was left of me
Celts marched long ago
In footsteps I silently trace the sadness
The blood of angst fills me heart
I can no longer live inside those stories of lore
Rains keep falling
Rain pouring over me
Surrounded by books
I succumb to my death you know as
The Paris Floods
Drowned by poetry
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
There once lived a woman called Lady-de Leisure, who turned not to men, but food for
She ate everything spicy and sticky and sweet, the poor lady could not even see her poor
feet. From dusk until dawn, all she would do was eat, drink, break wind, burp belch and poo.
But one day whilst eating her thirty fifth pie, the lady burped loudly, keeled over and died.
The funeral had to be held outside, but people they came to say goodbye.
The coffin itself, you’ve never seen bigger. The bearers were three forklift trucks and a
The hole in the ground was fourteen feet wide, and even then the coffin scraped at the sides.
So if you are thinking about being a lady of leisure, look elsewhere than food solely for
Copyright © peter timmins | Year Posted 2010
News photo of the Rwandan dead
bobbing naked at the base
of waterfall. Wide hips and narrow
shoulders, surely a young woman once
sexually active. No solution
to death's finality. Peace
is a great blessing. Fools
Is the production and distribution
of food and other essential services
fragile or deeply embedded.
Can or cannot the economy
support the growing or diminishing population.
The Road Warrior, however shallow,
attracts for its vision of social breakdown
and the sources of regeneration. Of course
Jane Jacobs is more complex and compelling.
The Rwandan dead
had dalliances and alliances.
It is the indignity of their exposure
and the rapid decay of their former lives.
How disposable, mere mulch, fertilizer
for wild vegetation.
Molecular bonds loosening
and joining new forms.
How do the vast darkness
extending to the ends of the expanding
universe and the temporal light of human
to make the world?
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
Summer’s Spilled Milk
City dwellers pumped;
Oil effused into ocean,
Ocean creatures died.
Copyright © Marie Harrison | Year Posted 2010
Hunger Artist - A Kafkaesque Moment
By: Earl Schumacker
(influenced by “A Hunger Artist”- short story by: Franz Kafka)
Food is foreign and mysterious to me now
Tolerance for such things is vile
My art once held the masses
In a mesmerizing enchanted grip
These days nothing matters
Death by hunger is dismissed
No one comes by my cage
To keep me faithful to my pain, as it really is
Starvation has lost its style
Or flavor should I say
Such enlightenment and with it fame
Once came quick
The children gathered by the thousands
To prove that nothing happened
Watching frantically; morning noon and night
To see no food had passed the artists lips
And death would take them nicely without tricks
I can’t remember ever being free
My cage and I came together mysteriously
We seem to be the same thing
Starving came instinctively
As last hunger artist I can’t resign
I have to see enlightenment one time
With or without people to observe
Even if I should die before my time alone
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
Dollars always help .
But the parched earth always wins .
More than dough required .
Inspired by Sami's "piece of bread" , contest .
Copyright © Sean Kelly | Year Posted 2009
I do not know?
main hu ek aajad pakshi ki trah
udti hu khule aasman me
jise n koi chinta, kisi ke shikar karne ki
udati rahu puri jindagi, aajad pakshi ki trah
koi n rakhe mujhe bandhi bna kar
udati rahu, udati rahu, aajad pakshi ki trah
khane ke liye bhatku idhar -udhar
n mile mujhe khane ke liye
bhukhe pet hi so jau
kitne bhi kasht mile, has kar sah lu unhe
koi phark n pade, ab kisi kasht ka
aadat hi ho gayi ab hume
main hu ek aajad pakshi ki trah
udati hu khule aasman me
Copyright © SANGITA CHOUDHARY | Year Posted 2013
Time And Chance
“11 I have seen something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift
or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all. 12 Moreover, no one knows when their hour will come: As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so people are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them.” Phil 3:18-21 NIV
The race is not won by the swift,
Nor is the battle won by the strong.
Wealth is not given to the brilliant,
Nor food to the wise belong.
Favor is not given to the learned
And death not claimed only by the old.
Men are trapped by evil
‘Til their bodies grow still and cold.
Time And Chance affect all mankind—
No man knows when his hour will come.
Wisdom belongs to God;
All wisdom above and under the sun.
Time And Chance are in His hands;
Many simply must comply.
God builds up or breaks down;
Kings and nations to occupy.
Fools are placed in high positions,
And the rich are often laid low.
Is everything understood by man?
How does God work on earth below?
If clouds are full of water,
They pour rain upon the earth.
But man is a mystery;
Time And Chance not in his death or birth.
We do not understand the hand
That makes the seed spring forth;
How the human body is formed,
Or how the womb gives birth.
Time And Chance are the equation
That only God does know.
Man is truly ignorant of how
Time And Chance works here below.
© Copyright 2012 Maureen LeFanue
Copyright © MAUREEN LEFANUE | Year Posted 2012
or tired love?
and weak games
Look at you!
Your such a lame!
Me cry?! Ha! Not no more!
Five point five years
What a joke?!
All you do is lie
Keep smoking your life away!
Wake up before its too late!
Before this love turns into hate!
Your too old to act this way!
Your too comfortable
You cant stay!
In my life!
In my way!
Goodbye to you!!!
Copyright © MARGARITA VERA | Year Posted 2012
Tanka – Anaconda
Wandering eyes spots dinner.
Standing by the water’s edge
Relishes his final sip.
Copyright © Valerie Staton | Year Posted 2015