Best Satiety Poems
Those who say that Death is vile,
Know Him not like I do.
He mends my heart that once was two,
And triggers satiety with His smile.
He whisks away those with all to give:
To save them from this Earth.
From its horrors He gives them berth;
Harbor from the wicked who live.
They stagger onward, praising Life,
Oblivious to Death's comfort.
Unaware that there's no more hurt,
While those now gone are blithe.
Death, He is my grandest friend;
Eternal and ethereal.
At His feet I'll always kneel,
And for Him, hasten my end.
Oh, Poverty,
You merciless ruler of billions,
Your empire of want, across the globe
You have stretched
As
In your unpitying passage,
No village
No town
No city
No nation
No continent is left
Unoccupied
By
Your ruthless forces:
Of suffering
Of Misery
Of agony
Of despair, and
Of calamitous death.
-
The innumerable subjects of yours
Subjugated are
By
The powerful heartless few
Who
Their ruthless decrees:
Of cruelty
Of indifference
Of inconsideration, and
Of shameful exploitation have been
For centuries, unmercifully applying,
Grinding your subjects in
Their shameful mills of fathomless greed,
Always,
Taking for themselves the lions share, first,
And then for more are they asking,
While
The deprived multitude of starving
Women, men, and children
On empty stomachs, they march
The
Horrid enemy of starvation to face
On
Famine’s unforgiving front of their demise,
Wishing thus
To die in the battle of survival with dignity,
Than
In agony to live another day
Without hope that their dream of satiety
Will ever come alive!
Oh, poverty,
Don’t ask me how did I come
Your grimy nature so well to know
But
If ever I were asked,
Here is my reply:
" I know you, oh poverty so well,
for
since my birth, a loyal subject of yours I have been
and still a loyal subject of yours
I remain to this day!"
© Demetrios Trifiatis
25 May 2021
A prayer is like seduction to your soul
Your church is the glamour the world bestowals
Your bible is the flashy neon lights and billboards
Your truth is the multiplicity of greedy
Your salvation is fruition of materialism
Your retribution is its finitude and lost satiety
Heaven becomes invisible through the eye of a needle
The world is beautiful but vengeful,
The world consists of the living and nonliving,
The world consists of the good and the bad,
The world creates and destroys,
The world is beautiful,
The world is beautiful,
Because of the nature, the countries and the people,
But one wrong move,
One big mistake,
Like,
Massive deforestation, soil pollution and littering
Will make the world angry,
That it will turn on self destruction mode,
Creating tsunamis, tornadoes, and earthquakes,
It's not the world's fault,
As it gives back what it gets,
If we give the world love,
Flowers will bloom, raindrops will dance,
Arroyos will feel satiety , people will live in peace,
The world is full of kindness,
People with compassion and love,
The world is full of guidance,
Even in the darkest nights, The brightest moonlight will guide us,
The world is full of energy,
As we get most of the food from sunlight,
The world is full of beauty,
Breathtaking mountains , magnificent waterfalls and amazing jungles,
Albeit,
don't let the beauty fool you,
As the world is beautiful but vengeful.
- Sri Danya
What use have I for words when body aches
For touch to resurrect a dead desire
I crave caress that all my power wakes
And lips that blaze on me a wanton fire
What use have I for words; they’re impotent
When body writhes and burns for hands of love
My mind is seared with passion, dominant
that calls to flights of ecstasy above
What use have I for words when hunger grips
The brazen need for its satiety
When trembling takes control of limbs and hips
And drunken passion mocks sobriety
Till words transformed to hands obey your will
To storming heart I whisper: "Peace...be still!"
JADE
Enchanted magic beans,
They were always enchanted to me.
Worth their weight in gold,
They never ever got old.
Some people would complain,
Some would look at them with disdain,
But magic beans meant the world to me,
They brought me warmth and satiety.
When you were of little means,
Your mind had to spark with creativity.
You could not always expect the next best thing,
Avoiding magic beans like a bee sting.
My mom would bring home our magic beans,
She would then drop them into the swirling seas.
She stirred them in a cauldron boiling hot,
I then waited for my sustenance cooking in the pot.
Today I still gather magic beans,
Even though I am no longer of little means.
The happy memories come flooding back,
As I pour magic beans from their overflowing sack.
January 16, 2015
Ed Belcher
It was unnerving
a growling demon of
deprivation,
an
enemy that lurks
in shadows, but
the eyes don't lie
silver spoons
do tarnish
with lack of use
they're tucked
away from public eye
shamed by the ideals
of the elite
without capital leverage
they can't bargain
for slices of pie
alone,
starving souls
often remain on
the threshold of pain
reaching for anything
to fill the void, to
cease the sound of
Hungry cries
the soul, the stomach,
the heart, the mind
all needing substenance
to sustain the firm form
Significant Human dignity
Poverty leaves souls
in the frigid cold
it's hold sounds
like empty stomachs
in Public Schools
Empty minds, and
wagons rattling
needing to be heard
"Feed Me"
even the scraps
will do like
outdated textbooks
and budgets
The elite always has more
A brewing storm
if the belly isn't
fed the norm
hungry they are
the forgotten faces
sifted out via
The Politics of
Education
Urban and Rural
The Hungry bottom
Forced Servitude
Or they hide in
the park after dark
under Bridges
swept and mopped
into Shelters,
or hidden shantytowns
What happened to
The Highest Ideals
of Man?
On Loans,
Or Dream Deferred
and the best
eat and the least
wait in stale
Souplines
while hunger pangs
wale into the night
2 Fish, 5 Loaves
Considering the consciousness
Of America still has a Heart
To feed all that Freedom
That's reached when
All have reached
Satiety
Let us all be
Full and fed
Led the sound
Of hunger be dead......
Kevin Guru © 2019
Divinity's abundance
Humanity's satiety
Man's gratitude:
Thanksgiving!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
27 November 2014
Famine
Feverish, desperate
Suffering, threatening, punishing
Surplus,excess,abundance,glut
Gratifying,pleasing,nourishing
Satisfied, full
Satiety
trapped in the category of basic feelings, attesting to the functional regularity of the average human and demonstrating the crystal-clear predictability of their secular behavior, hatred, love, envy and jealousy consolidated practically all the advance and retreat of a race that eternally gravitates around its own navel, growing at the limit of the satisfaction of instincts and collapsing to the exact extent and at the time when it judges itself full and satiated, ignoring or comfortably avoiding understanding that both transcendence and evolution require the uprising of satiety, since this in everything resembles resignation and cowardice.
She, as an emotion
Of all my states of mind
Comes out, when I talk to her, or,
when I feel her more than a good friend
She, as an emotion
Of all my stress and strain
Haunts me every now and then,
When I know that I am not in her brain.
She, as an emotion
Of all my motions of life
Runs parallely on the way I run,
When I break down somewhere in life.
She, as an emotion
Of all my disturbed thoughts
Disturbs me from to think ahead,
When I don't listen her voice or notes.
She, as an emotion
Of all my joys and mighty
Pops into my hearts completely,
When I take her in as my ever affable satiety
Alone- wandering in Earth’s bowels-
Nighted caves heave and bellow
clammy, cold sighs.
Within their antediluvian cores-
I seek the Solace of Despair.
Murky phantoms enchant disturbed minds
Those raped of sustenance, deprived of care
Finger traces in silted thoughts-
Apparition of
corporal artifacts yet remain…
The wandering envelopes me…
O’ lover, my lover
caress me
Caves of loneliness-
Ceaselessly-
Coupling satiety.
Moldy boughs touching degenerately-
embrace me
For wicked abandon I yearn
Unrestrained anguish I’ve earned.
When I close my eyes shut, each time.
Of what I mean to you I think, every time.
How I was spellbound having seen you, I remember.
How I never ran out of the words, which to you admire.
Bonded were we by a cord of friendship.
Solemnly I swear, for you, I'd endure any hardship.
I adored you my treasure, your soul, its austerity.
Something seemed amiss, latched was a small absurdity.
It demanded more, but couldn't meet its satiety.
It ignited a blazing inferno within me.
It changed me, unaffected how could you be?
It was really very simple but our lives made it complicated.
It was always possible, it couldn't have been really faded.
It, for me, always got more intense.
For just having met you, I'm grateful to the Divine Providence.
It's a crazy little thing, if you'd rather ask.
All my insecurities it seemed to mask.
Every moment spent with you, I deeply miss.
Do you really know what this absurdity is?
To our only existence, life it seems to bestow.
The more it is given to us, still more we endow.
It's a beautiful blessing granted to us from Him, above.
It's just the one and only thing called Love.
How would you
discern,when you
trouble,When life and
feelings pictures
struggle:If you find
yourself in a jungle-
Findind yourself at the
extreme corner of the
world:Your sentience
becomes somehow
sore? Day you
understand your life
record,Waking hours
you are called as
expiator-Telling us to
listen to your
testimony:When your
prayer only on
satiety.
Expected of you i
sense,Thee try to ask
the divine creator..Lest
He be thy mentor.
He said he’d watched a tutorial.
He said symmetry was a myth
fueled by Big Geometry.
I laughed. That was my first mistake.
My second was passing him the scissors
without asking him about his dominant hand.
(It was vibes. His hand was vibes.)
Snip.
He called it edgy. I called it
accidentally spiritual—
because seeing your own scalp
before coffee
is a kind of awakening.
He apologized by making pancakes
in the shape of angels.
I joked, You know these look like ghosts.
He replied so sincerely, I don’t see it.
And that was the moment I knew:
this is who I chose. The kind of man
who conflates confidence with capability,
specters with satiety, and bad haircuts
with love.
I could have done worse.
That bald spot grew over,
like a lot of mistakes—
as if nothing had happened.
But when I hear the snip-snapping
of blades testing the air, I still flinch.
Just a little.
Which is to say, I’m older now,
but still not immune to vanity,
or apology, or pancakes,
especially when they’re fueled
by good intentions.