Best Square Meal Poems
I’m on my way into the grocery store
when I see him huddled near the shop doorway
In his outstretched hand
an empty coffee cup
I throw in a coin or two
smile, and ask his name
I’m Jack ma’am’ he says politely; and this is Benji ...
it’s only then that I notice a small brown terrier
his black nose poking out
from underneath a stained sleeping bag
Benji leaps up and wags his tail excitedly
at the mention of his name
I stoop down and he nuzzles my hand
I’ve a lump in my throat as I tell Jack
Benji reminds me of my dog Sam
who I lost last summer
Oh, how I miss the comfort of my pet
Jack’s blue eyes fill with tears
it's then I discover
he’s been on the streets for a few months
Benji’s my only true friend, he says
He’s never let me down -
not like my folks back at home
I can see Benji is well cared for
the exact opposite of Jack
who looks like he’s not eaten a square meal in days
I rise to do my shopping
and pass them both on the way out
I drop a brown carrier bag into Jack’s lap
he opens it like it’s Christmas Day
Inside are several pouches of dog food
and some substantial sandwiches
It is but a small gift,
yet I can see it means the world to him
he reaches up and touches my hand
I’m sorry son,
I wish I could do more to help
but I only have a small widow’s pension
I walk away,
knowing how fortunate I am
"This is no life, just a way of surviving another day"
I’ve had ups and downs in my life, but ...
“I've never been where they've been”
Writing Challenge 2, November - A Poem Meaningful - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Written on 10/7/19
Dismal tale of men and women in the dirty rail compartment
No conception of the charm being knitted by the movement
Of the necklace of gentle light in the pants shirts and blouses
All is too occupied in their struggle to notice the kind crescent
As they are returning home from their respective workplaces
Piteous story of apathy and woe all of them are absorbed in
An old lady chewing parched rice taking it from a rusted tin
In a dark corner is seated a youth with shirt all bloodstained
Suffering from tuberculosis and looking very fragile and thin
A worthless life of empty existence still wretchedly retained
Though no threshold he will come across leading him to a
Plate of rice and curry as at least one square meal a day
A hawker of playthings approaches them in a smiling face
A second vendor selling some human figures made of clay
A gloomy motion picture of life running in an unfair race
10/07/2017
Rhyme Time with 5 Poetry Contest sponsored by Laura Loo
Using the five words viz Piteous Bloodstained Threshold
Conception and Dismal
Grandpa said you work hard all day
to do to yourself some good....
So, what you think as priory in your pay,
is a well deserved dish of good food!
For the less fortunate; one square meal.
And for the well off; another day's feast!
In diet classes, I say it’s not a big deal
to decline your favorites to have fat decreased!
At home, I sit with a well garnished pizza “extra cheese”.
a large chunk of ‘Black Forest cake’ to follow
and a glass of wine, selected and chilled, please.
I can't help, my stomach is an ever growing hollow!
So, do what I say but don't do what I do.
Rational on duty but mad for a ‘biryani”, spicy and hot!
Strong to my audience, but weak with a pint of home brew.
Excuse me, friends, I can’t resist much my cooking pot!
28/06/16
Honorable mention for contest I love food by Lewis Raynes (29/06/16)
I opened my heart
Where lies my brook?
Where are thou my Raven?
Our land is in FAMINE
Almost like that of the Israelites
I cried with millions
Wept for an ailing nation
Tubers of yam makes us yawn
Tomatoes puts us all in comatose
Bag of rice in crises
Garri soaking becomes a trend
I longed
I craved
For my Raven's miracle
I opened my heart again
Where lies my brook?
Where are thou my Raven
Raven miracle I seek
Elijah was treated to a royalty by Raven
Fetching him balance diet daily even in famine
He then drinks in a special brooks
Why not me God!!! I want my Raven miracle
Raven!!! Elijah's Raven
Raven !!! My own Raven
The creature with a shiny black feathers
Weird, mythical ...scary yet emit miracle
Smart, evil in disguise ... smells dark omen
Yet fetched Elijah three square meal
Largest in the crow family of birds
I opened again but not my heart
This time it is my mouth of hunger
Where lies my brook?
Where are thou my Raven?
Raven miracle I seek
My voice became stronger for Him to hear
He is my shepherd I shall not want
Even as young lions lack
And suffers hunger in anger
I shouted" I shall not want"
I receive by faith the word
And I started chewing
Pretending to be an Elijah
Behold, food was on my table
I found myself devouring chicken in full
On a table full of varieties of food to maw
But no one else was eating
They all looked hungry and fagged out
I got a disdainful eyeing...
I heard them hissing profusely
Yes, it was like that table prepared before David
The same table God prepared before his enemy
I got their message
They weren't my friends
But there was more to go round
Why become selfish ...greedy
I beckoned to them without uttering a word
They swamped on me ... on the food
Then, someone tapped me on a long chair
Those bed-bug infested chairs ...
" Brother Stephen... why are you snoring?
We are through with the service
Remember that fasting continues tomorrow
And bring along your Prophet offerings
The Lord be with you"
The white-bearded man bid me bye
My mouth was still ajar
Finding expression for my thought
Alayande Stephen T.
21st, August, 2016
A Story from the Sunday Service
still a dream---
a square meal
on a round table
I had a meal that wasn’t square
Though all the things I’d need were there:
Some crusty bread, some cheese and fruit
And lots of salad spreads, to boot.
A plate of veggies, nicely sliced
And lox and cream cheese, which enticed.
A pot of coffee, freshly perked
And pastries (where the cal’ries lurked).
I lunched with utter pure delight;
The hostess got it all just right.
I wonder how would one prepare
A better meal to make it square.
Grandpa said, “You work hard all day
to do to yourself some good....
what you think as priory in your pay
is a well deserved dish of good food!”
For the less fortunate; one square meal
and for the well off; another day of feast!
In diet classes: "It’s not a big deal
to decline favorites to have fat decreased!"
At home: A well garnished pizza “extra cheese”
and a generous chunk of ‘Black Forest cake’ to follow.
All to be flushed in with wine, sweet and chilled, please.
I can't help it; my stomach is an ever growing hollow!
So, "Do what I say but don't do what I do.";
Rational on duty but mad for a ‘biryani”, spicy and hot!
Strong to my audience, but weak with a pint of home brew.
"Excuse me, for the extra sugar, can’t resist my cooking pot!"
28/06/16
18/02/17 Revisited for contest Just a little bit of sugar by Debbie Guzzi
Note: sugar in simple and complex forms constitute nearly all foods, which is calculated as calorie intake per day.
The world hurtles on unmindful
Leaving behind those who cannot keep pace
So many are under constant grind
To earn a square meal a day
On deserted streets many roam
Their stomachs empty, their bowels growling
They have nothing to rejoice, only to grieve
For them, joy is an unknown flavor
They too are rightful heirs to Nature’s bounty
Yet fate decrees for them a dismal course!
They are smothered under poverty’s bleak embrace
Over their ashen sky, dark clouds gather round
In dingy make shift dwellings,
Many cram together under tin sheets,
Braving the sun and the inclement weather
Wallowing in dirt and filth with flies for company
They see the stars luminous through cracked roofs
And weave dreams of better times
But soon their dreams go crashing down
Sinking in the knowledge that life is brutally unfair
The callously unfeeling men strut past them
Deaf to their ballads of sad refrain
And their unheard moans die down
In the alleys where darkness strangulates light!
(Their fate often sparks embers of pain in me)
Jan. 17. 2022
Your Choice Again Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Brian Strand
My eyes fountain
As i muster up to our nations mountain
This fact i ascertain
But no pleasures i entertained.
My eyes fountains
For the waif
My voice wails for the poor
Sleeping in cold on bare floor.
My eyes fountain
For the orphans
Whom sweat became their daily bread
whom pain becomes their dinner gown.
My eyes fountain
For the homeless
Those who are truly hopeless
Those whose time are less.
I wail for our drown economy
No more peace nor harmony
No sweet cuddles, no honey
No one to dry our tears, this is not funny.
This is my pain
Like dark ache its upon my spine
the nation is drunk with wine
In regret we now dine.
My eyes fountain
For now 3 square meal is not square
balanced diet is no longer balanced
Vitamins can no longer be gotten through our VITAL MEANS.
I give my voice in prayer
My tears i offer in supplication
Lord please let your Kingdom Come
WE PRAY LET IT COME, LET IT COME.
If they like let petrol be one
thousand naira at the station,
It is not my business not at all
I will still have my tea taken
Every morning with Agege bread.
If they like let them find not
The hungry budget paper,
It is not my business not at all
I will still have my tea taken
Every morning with Agege bread.
If they like let them create million
Jobs in the inland and the mainland,
It is not my business not at all brother
As far as they did not take my cup of tea
I will still live and drink with Agege bread.
If they like let them feed school children
One square meal per day in their hungry
State, sister, it is not my business to know
I will still have my cup of tea sweet as breast milk
Every morning with Agege bread to water down.
If they like let them fight over the country,
Let them embezzle all the money here leaving
The poor with nothing to write home about,
It is not my business anyway with them
I will still have my beautiful tea taken daily.
If they like let PMB travel all over the world
It is not my business with them at all here,
I will still make my tea in a brownish colour
As far as my cup of tea is not taken from me
I will be as happy as the puppy in my world.
If they like let them find the Chibok
girls in Sabimsa forest with Children,
it is not my business to know at all
I will still have my cup of tea taken
Every morning with Agege bread.
If they like let them repair the roads,
If they like let them bring light to us,
If they like let them stock all the money
Abroad, It is not my business to question them
I will still have my cup of tea taken daily.
I will only react when my cup is taken;
When my cup is taken from my mouth.
So long they don't take my cup of tea
From my savouring hungry mouth, I will
be fine, let madness rule and ruine them all fool.
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016
When there is chaos all around suffocating
You have in your kindness kept me secure
I have no justification at all to fret and fume
I cannot but be grateful to you; my dear Lord.
When millions of masses are undernourished
You the compassionate one have granted me
With a square meal for self and my household
I cannot but be grateful to you my dear Lord.
When I find my fellow beings in torn clothes
Fending themselves from vagaries of nature
You have provided me with enough apparel
I cannot but be grateful to you; my dear Lord.
There are thousands with no proper shelter
To protect themselves from rain and wind
You have given me a cosy roof over my head
I cannot but be grateful to you; my dear Lord.
When I am aware of awful suffering around
And my comfort zone with your benign mercy
I feel ashamed of my silly protests against you
Please forgive me my Lord, I am grateful; ever.
Ramesh Deshpande
I would abolish factories and end money
All would be farmers or artisans
Barter system I will introduce
In case of natural calamities,
nearby villages would have to help
I would plant lot of trees, just like primitive times
Houses would be made of mud and thatch
There would be Wells and borewel wells for water
All would be equal, no caste system
Males and females would be treated at par
Justice would be decided by community through consensus
All would have a right to participate
Pollution would end, food will be organically grown
All doing similar jobs, there would be financial equality
All would have to work to earn two square meal a day
Thefts and fraud would end automatically
Boys would come to girl's house after wedding, resolving lot of current issues
No electricity, people would sleep early
Animals would be killed only for food
All would be hard-working, healthy and happy.
This is my idea of perfect world
it makes me happy although it's imaginary
I wish it would come true
Date: 8/22/2020
My thoughts sink deep like the waters in a well
My heart is heavy due to the uncertainties of tomorrow
In the belly of abject poverty do I dwell
The cry of huger pierces my ear drums like an arrow
As I sit by the road cup in hand
Pain and anguish engulfs my soul as neglection becomes my companion
A fearsome fight for a square meal becomes my head band
The dust of failure settles on my eye
As with the wind of hardships,the fight goes on
My eyes burn with fire and brimstone
As the rains of temptations beats upon my heart
Long suffering becomes my friend
For my pain I cannot for-go
I walk in the path of mockery
As my steps tear me apart
Please show pardon if our path should meet
For with the cry of Oliver twist,I would always ask for more
Looking through the window
Everything seems like a puzzle
His coming ought to rekindle
Instead all have dwindle
Change is all we asked
Not knowing they were masked
Although they were tasked
Everything remain the same
Three square meal
Has become dream
Off course to the peasants
Their people
Have become cable
That is seen in every neighborhood
Across their neck
Is a wood to inflict wound
On people
Although they claim is for their cattle
But we sure know better
Funny it may sound
They are like sand
That is seen everywhere
Ministers have become blisters
In the hands of the peasants
The name may be lai
But the parents mean lie
Truth they say they speak
But lies we know we hear
The cost of living
Has made the peasants livid
Tomatoes have grown toes
Out of the market
Yet store houses grow millions of naira everyday
The planter we know not
The keeper we know not
The owner we know not
Oh my father's land!!
I hear there is a change
A change we never asked for
Is it an America based president?
Or the federal palace has a new headquarter?
No one knows the answer
Oh! Nigeria my father land
Its now in a farther land
Where can be reach by the rich
The ruled have no clue
Instead they have been gripped by grippe and grief
We were told that the arena was filled with milk and honey
What we now see is Sickness and mourning
Men on black have become terror and horror
Off course to the peasants
Need less to say , they are morons
Protection have been substituted for extortion
The white men see them as gods
Here, they are best described as dogs
On them are lies instead of lice
Law makers;
I mean,
Law breakers
Are the least of the shame we now have
We now have wrestlers in our chambers
Maze have become swords
Automatically our chambers have become battle field
Their shame has become their fame
Wooowuuuu
The erudite are not left behind
In fact they are fart that has polluted our arena
Years after years
Justice have been denied
We need TRANS-CHANGERS!!
We need transformed men and women!
Not transformation!
We need changed men and women!
Not Change!
This land belongs to Buhari,
he has the financial keys to every land here!
You must not urinate here unless you
are a cow, beware of military' Dogs,
they're watching.
You must not answer nature's call here,
this region is for grazing of the first citizens,
do you expect them to perceive your urine?
Go home to your mother's other room,
there's another room for you to wee-wee
& there's room for you to communicate with nature.
your father has warned you not to see
the sun in darkness,
Your mother said you should learn to
respect every house that has politicians
that chopped your smiles into gloom of lurking bodies.
Why Urinate behind Aso rock Villa & you called yourself a patriotic civilian?
Don't you know that our leaders are dinning
there in bits of luminious laughter?
They are planning on how to give one square meal per day to already satisfied children.
They are arranging the ten thousand to be shared in the market tomorrow.
The sound of your patapata could be a distraction!
I have not find the right hand to parcel my anger on you!
you have made the foams thereof to meet at the confluence of mirage,
what do you expect Obasanjo to say of this?
I know each call is a torment and misery
painting a portrait of how gullible our land is!
Do not urinate here unless you're a politician!
Unless you've learnt the act of deceiving people,
unless you have fought in the National Assembly & jumped from one party to another,
unless your hands are stained with blood;
do not urinate here, zip up, hoodie...
Let's remind ourselves of next levels connecting the air with the silk memories with which the world hold each other in arms.
Remember, the fine is your head if you
ever pour out your proud liquid here!
©John Chizoba Vincent
#TheSage