Best Starvation Poems
dust-wearing-wind carries a feeble cry in its palm,
settles it near ears that can no longer hear.
Cries arise from hollows of your hungry face,
a pulpit of high cheeks bones— in sharp relief
to sunken skin-scape sallow and paper thin—
a preacher on the harrows of hunger.
Vulture keeps a still, silent vigil,
a patient witness to your starvation,
comrade and adversary
in a fight for your last breath and beat.
Your loyal companion, a symbol of death
where drones rain with flames on tents of refugees
and sky splitting missiles make shrapnel of the sun,
where dragon fire artillery shoots the moon
and shreds stars till they fate-fall
like the last nightjars from nocturne skies.
Dear child of war,
alone with nothing in your belly but a stone,
rib bones a famine cage,
thoracic fingers squeeze your soul.
Your heart a hostage,
flutters like a lost moth against your sternum.
I long to hold you and feed you
honey made from a million wild flowers
uncrushed beneath metal plates of tank treads.
I yearn to bathe you of collapsed concrete dust
cleanse you of your mother’s blood, her
rattle-boned, battle-owned, maternal body wrapped
over yours as they fed her Kalashnikov lead.
My faraway ache for your plight pales
against your tiny body’s black-rose-throes,
a pawn to thorns of soldiers
grown on rocket-torn-boot-worn streets.
War-zone fig trees bear no fruit,
hibiscus buds die as hornets knit nests into shrubs,
tomorrow but a diseased wheat field laid to waste.
Dear child of war,
deliverance will come when pall-bearer winds
carry your cries elsewhere…
Israeli hostages and Gazans hollowed,
the dark cold cruelty of some in humankind.
Gray circles under frightened eyes,
bones protruding from fading frames.
Listless song of the starving,
grieving God. ~
Starvation rules this spinning globe.
Energy is seized.
While goats and cattle strip the grass of peaceful light,
Vultures shred the organs of disadvantaged game.
As packs of wolves surround the heard,
Eyeing the weak and lame.
Buzzards circle overhead seeking every chance,
To pluck out the eyes of the men who fail to understand,
That he must take life to continue his own.
Those who don’t consume life’s rich plate,
Will fail to reach its end in strength.
Is nature blind to the suffering of the weak?
When so much blood is spilled.
Or is strength built through heartless savagery?
Who would not defend his offspring from cunning man,
Hungry beasts, and the vicious pains of hunger?
Some will say man has risen above such talk.
We stand exalted from the fray.
But larvae will not avoid those with foolish pride.
While lovely worms consume the flesh of broken stride.
Neglect
by Michael R. Burch
What good are your tears?
They will not spare the dying their anguish.
What good is your concern
to a child sick of living, waiting to perish?
What good, the warm benevolence of tears
without action?
What help, the eloquence of prayers,
or a pleasant benediction?
Before this day is gone,
how many more will die
with bellies swollen, wasted limbs,
and eyes too parched to cry?
I fear for our souls
as I hear the faint lament
of their souls departing ...
mournful, and distant.
How pitiful our "effort,"
yet how fatal its effect.
If they died, then surely we killed them,
if only with neglect.
Quote: "There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.” – Mahatma Gandhi
In wars, innocent lives are the cost,
Their homes, their dreams, forever lost.
Starvation strikes, food laid to waste,
Leaving many hungry in its haste.
In silent shadows where hunger hides,
Aching emptiness, sorrow abides.
Whispers in the dark seek a ray of light,
A glimmer of hope to end the night.
In bellies hollow, echoes resound,
Souls wear thin, despair is found.
Streets echo with desperation's cries,
As hunger's grip tightens, hope tries.
Yet within hearts, resilience blooms,
Defying hunger's relentless gloom.
Let's extend our hands, open wide,
To those in need, nowhere to hide.
In acts of kindness, flames are fed,
Bringing warmth to the hungry, unfed.
My mind is starving, but nothing to feed it
It's empty and is crying out to be full
The worst kind of hunger eats me alive
I don't know where it started though I know where its ending
It's a hunger for freedom a hunger to feel
Something more different then the hate i was fed
Maybe an ounce of sugar could make life sweeter
Though it's already sweet enough it's turning quite bitter
The world is a frying pan and we are the meal
The world feeds us anger, regret and fear
Lathers us in oil and flips us around
I want to escape the pan so I can feed myself
Something sweeter, something a little less angry
My brain is cooking at 180 and it's spinning, and the world is winning
Making me cook alive, in a world filled with hate
Someday maybe I will find a way out, and escape to feed my mind
Fighting famine starvation
By Stanley Russell Harris
The new mad author
& A Poetry Soup honourably mentioned poet
As a poet should I write?
Words in this world!
That is not right.
Words on paper for you to read!
Do they bear weight?
Will these words intercede?
Famine now rears its ugly head.
Men, women, children cannot be fed.
As nothing is grown to make living bread
Fighting as I write you know.
Causes families to start to flow.
Away from danger, they do you know.
Killing, raping, has mankind gone insane?
For everywhere, it seems the same.
Will life ever be normal again?
Fighting must cease, irrigate the land.
Feed all from the seed, sown by man’s hand.
Live together in peace do.
Help each other, you must, it’s true.
As only then you will survive.
With food and water.
You’ll surely thrive.
I know no one fleeing strife will read this . But with such bad news just sending money seems so inadequate. Hope someone can channel the abundant free water from places that have too much to those that have none. as without water, well less said about that. Oh by the way I am cancer free, how about that? A little good news amidst the world's doom and gloom. Stanley (TnmA)
I am a friend of pie
Why?
Because I would never eat it.
It will live its natural life cycle
Until it's dry
Then goes all rancid
And can die.
And that's why I
Am a friend of pie.
[A poetic response to Fernando Pessoa]
I'd rather be the rust on iron rails
and have freight trains scatter me wide . . .
I'd rather be lost in the sea
surrounded by sharks, with no hope . . .
I'd rather be words on a page
crumbling to dust from neglect . . .
I'd rather be strung from a tree
with my breath cut off by the rope . . .
than be forced through life without
your poems to nourish my psyche.
SPIRITUAL STARVATION
Preoccupying oneself,
With
The accumulation of material wealth,
May lead
To the impoverishment of one’s soul
To the degree
Of
Spiritual starvation!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
19 MAY 2013
Thoughts for the mind
Words for the heart
Yet my plate is empty
Starving for nourishment
That will never fill
A skelton
Drowning in the tears I have shed
To see the little stars dwindle afar
Clothed in their own nakedness
As of a meat dried in the sun
Slammed in persecution of famine
Betrayed by Mother Nature’s touch
Dwelling on faint hope to cope with death
Having less to feed on – by chance move on
Their pain – none like any other
For if you had lived without food for a day,
At least you’ll know how it feels without one for weeks
Their heap of load they can’t carry anymore
This plight is not a cartoon to watch
Such horror only takes delight in scaring its viewers
The world is a means to an end
And we being tools to such means, let’s end this predicament
No more starvation to our brothers and sisters
To the men of good faith in religion ~ prayer is all they need
To the rich ~ there is much in giving than receiving
I shall float ashore the tears – knowing this piece touched a heart
Redeeming the little stars to shine forth once again
Oh Lord help this heart of mine
For it was broken and there seems no mend
I have bid my love farewell
But my heart cannot find peace without him
My Soul...............
It starves.
STARVATION
WE WASTE OUR FOOD AND
DON,T THINK ONCE
WHEN WE THROW.
BUT THINK WHY FARMERS
DYING.
THE GOVERNMENT HAS SPENT
MILLIONS OF RUPEES.
BUT STILL THEY DIE,
WHO WILL ASK THEM WHY???
THIS IS TIME TO CHANGE
OUR ATTITUDE.
AND THINK DOES IT HAS TO
BE THE WAY IT IS.
STARVATION IS THE THING
WE STILL FACE.
WHO WILL THINK AND CHANGE.
SO MY PEOPLE IT'S TIME TO
THINK AND CHANGE.
STARVATION IS NOT THE THING WE
ARE LIVING FOR.
LET THEM ENJOY POWER OF NATURE.
AND DON'T LET THEM DIE.
From Starvation to Temptation
Starvation.
I closed my heart to the satisfying
My primative and physical needs inside
To avoid dealing with the negativity.
That too many people seem to bring.
Becoming parasites along for a free ride
Wanting only to demand to much from me
A one sided pleasure is not my kind of thing.
So I turned cold till those feelings died
****************
Temptations
The dawning of the bliss
Someone came along that stirred
those dorment longings in me
Long neglected, I didn't realize I'd miss
Nothing like what I remembered
He brought me into a sweet reality
Finding wonderful abandonment
within the wild dreams of my mind
My passionate emotions run free
Enticing me to sensually experiment
Bringing forth the forbidden kind.
Hungering to open my sensuality.
© Bonnie J Hollywood-Cutts