Best Stomach Poems
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
I have measured my worth in halves—
half a plate, half a bite, half a person.
Chewing on numbers, swallowing silence,
practicing hunger like a shadow,
but it never fades.
Fullness is a cruel, suffocating weight.
A mistake lodged in my stomach,
a constant reminder that I don’t belong.
I press my hands against my skin,
as if I could suffocate it,
shrink it until it begs to disappear.
I tell them I’ve eaten.
I tell them I’m fine.
I tell them it’s nothing—
but nothing is all I am.
Every meal is a war I lose before it begins.
Every bite feels like a betrayal
to the silence that feels safer than hunger.
Every swallow fills me with dread,
a dread that only grows when it sits inside me,
weighing me down,
making me feel too heavy
for this world.
And the worst part?
I’m never full enough
to stop the ache.
I fight the hunger until it claws
from the inside,
until I have nothing left but this emptiness,
this need to purge it out,
to make it right again,
to feel light enough to breathe.
I don’t care about the taste.
I don’t care about the burn.
I don’t care about the sharpness in my throat,
the acid that eats at me.
All I care about is the relief,
the only kind of peace I know.
I rid myself of it,
only to watch it come back.
Again and again,
until there’s nothing left to purge
but the broken pieces of me.
The mirror never lies,
but it never forgives.
It shows me the reflection
of someone too much,
too filled with shame
to fit into this skin.
I am too full.
Too empty.
Too much.
Never enough.
I try to hold it in,
but my body is a battlefield.
I swallow the guilt.
I vomit the fear.
I purge the pain.
And yet,
the hunger never stops.
Annoying knot right in the pit
Of my stomach, please stop it!
You twist and churn with fear and dread
Echo voices in my head
Have you any clue who I am
What I'm up to as a man?
What's your job, why were you hired?
I think you suck, that's it, you're fired
Here's your pink slip, now be gone
You been here now for far too long
Sorry there's no space for you
I've simply too much left to do
I wish you well, it's been a blast
Redecorate your room at last
Dust the Cobb webs, walls are painted
Furniture's been re situated
Loving life, this brand new space
Without you up in my face
Happy feeling at peace with me
At home, in love, completely free
Is this how it ends?
Alone I cry that this pain may end;
Each day brings more fear;
Each sunrise I pray for a better day;
Afraid of the sunset as it marks the end;
Sunset as a reminder that everything has an end;
Afraid to close my eyes fearing death;
Sleep eludes me with time;
The one body part I feed betrays me;
Each pain a reminder that I’m alive;
As a wipe each tear I value my hands,
A tear a reminder my hands function;
Seems like the only part yet to betray me;
Haven’t checked my legs since I’ve been in bed;
Never let you live without food;
Three times a day I feed you;
Never did I expect much from you;
How can you betray me like this?
Unconsciously fatuous ;
stylish
foolish
#
It's all right ;
doozy
choosy
#
Nonsense ;
fiddle
giggle
#
03.03.2018
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
* 3rd place in the contest
As the world turns
my stomach does too
knowing that all my children
are confused, unemployed
and young and restless
all the day through,
and my husband of 30 years
decided to leave me
for someone younger,
says hes going through
a mid-life crisis,
what a bummer….
found out my best friend
Pam was in a traffic jam
where she got hit by a car,
went to visit her in the
hospital, but didn't
make it very far,
got a speeding ticket
for doing 60 when I
should have been doing 35,
finally made it to the
hospital where my
friend was still breathing
but barely alive,
meantime her family called
a pastor in to pray just
in case she didn't survive,
so I said a silent prayer and
with tears streaming down
took her hand and
bid her farewell,
and during the drive home,
thought about Pam
and how she was so kind,
and then for some reason
flashbacks from the previous week
kept popping into my mind,
then when arriving home only to find,
my neighbor meeting me
looking upset and angry outside,
telling me he was going
to sue me,
because when I was away
our big oak tree did sway
and fell upon his car in
his driveway…
as if that wasn't enough
I went to the mailbox,
where I found a strange letter
that was made out to me,
so I opened it up
and sure enough
discovered it was from
my long lost daughter,
saying she was now 31
had her own illegitimate son
and that she wanted to meet me,
went in the house
and before I knew it
the doorbell rang
and she stood there
all ready to greet me,
I just gave her a hug
and explained why I
had to give her up
when she was just a baby,
she just gave an understanding
look and asked "who is my daddy?"
I said I'm not really sure dear
it could've been Tom, Dick or Larry,
said those were the years
I was confused beyond tears
of which fella I loved the most,
she said Mom there must be
a way just call them all and say
I want a paternity test done…
so as I watched my long lost
daughter leave and drive
over my pet cats tail,
I just think to myself
"oh its just another normal day,
where I hear dramatic music play,
in a place called Kanoga Falls."
Hotdogs without the skin is like unrequited love,
all sorts with no where to put it.
Bravery pig with no city to save,
chopped liver makes it the same.
Beef tenderloin
and it followed the stretch to the fryer.
Medium rare
like it should be
but still not what it requires.
I kept no watch nor waited for them to produce
For I am the hunter because I’ve learned once
Once
From being the hunted
From being the hunted
the clown
the object of fascination
I kept no watch
only contentment in my heart
Compassion at the arcs of my shoulders
For I am the arc, the passion
the unwise
Yet: Look at my long hair. I must be free.
My stomach is a stadium
give it little food it quarrels
much food it beats drums
little food it complains loudly
no food it throws stones
it shouts at me after meals
blows trumpet when satisfied
and plays saxophone when excited
A stranger thinks it a stadium
Old Trafford Stadium is my stomach
where fans shout, sing, quarrel-
when Wayne Rooney scores a goal
or Didier Drogba misses a penalty
She brushes her fingertips
down her own skin and dreams of him
rising like a tide inside her,
his tongue between her teeth.
She waits for the stars to fall ripe into her palms,
and for the messiah.
She waits, heart in mouth,
for his breath against her bones.
My dog's stomach sounded like a washing machine set on high and hot.
He was laying between my mother and me Off the couch,
but not because we told him to, the couch was too covered with stuff.
Pillows, a bag of knitting needles and yarn, technical devices,
strings and bobbles all of which he would refuse to touch.
He does get on the couch, but not when it's covered with stuff,
stuff vs dog, stuff wins.
There was thunder crackling outside like semi-trucks on a bumpy road
and it had been muggy all day, like a stray tarp had fallen over the sky
and there was no escaping it, just dull, dreary, dank life. Hot too, it was 80s easy.
The thing is, my dog's afraid of storms, usually, well, only if my sister
and my father are around. If it's just my mom and myself, he's fine.
Today, it was just us.
After the thunder started we heard this gurgling, and she thought it was me
and I knew it was him on the floor staring lazily at the TV with his ears flopped out
like a bunny eared antenna which was a bit loose and wiggled out to the side.
That was his relaxed pose, one foot folded under him, invisible like an amputee
the other paw out as a shield to his mouth when really it was his third side
of a triangle toward stability. This was his lazy pose, and yet
his stomach was rolling like a pot of boiling water in a bag
gurgling, and sloshing, and bubbling about.
The funniest thing was that it had an ambient noise quality to it
like white noise that never stopped, but occasionally it would gurgle out his mouth
and he would turn his head a little and look up at one of us,
A lost puppy afraid to be afraid because maybe, scraps? So we cracked up
laughing, and he stuck his head back down with the weight of a dead car.
The Stomach/Depths of the Eye, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Le ventre de l’œil by T. Wignesan
Neither hither nor thither nor space nor time neither
height nor depth
Nothing
Nothing without recoiling fold nothing unheard of
primordial Ahan* in a static state
Abyss resounding in silence Where without echo Alpha’s
latent in Omega
Where ?
Where the open mouth’s stuffed without roof a hole
Without walls nor borders nor substance a gaping hole
Identity without Self no Eye without pupil
Immense Void un-divided neither All nor One
Wind which knows not itself breath not having yet been
born
The Self constricted upon (it)self its entrails spiraling
Blindness of space in no way palpable
* Ahan: no one-to-one equivalent in English; etymologically an ancient French word with several connotations, such as, labour; unbearable pain; cultivable land; harvest, etc. Here, the possible usage could be the intense energy deployed to engender the contrary of a state of nothingness.
(from Anthologie poétique, p. 32; Sophia, O.C. t. II, p. 195)
© T. Wignesan – Pais, October 9, 2014
Here they go again swirling around in their unpredictable fashion
Millions of them all bright and happy!
If I had an enormous net I could not catch them all
They squirm and wiggle and consume my insides
Every single day since I met you in my dreams
Who can contain them all?
If I could take a camera and snap a photograph
I could look at these butterflies more carefully
I bet they come in all shapes and sizes and I bet they sing beautiful songs
They must because I feel like there is the most extraordinary song playing within me Whenever I think of you
Sometimes it’s like a beautiful sonata
Other times it’s a jazzy tune
Butterflies dancing in an unpredictable fashion
It’s always springtime in my stomach
Please don’t let this season ever end
Written by Gwendolen Rix
11-17-14
I sit here with my mind in in a tangle and twist.
Wondering how in the world did it get like this.
My stomach is in a knot, and my heart is racing.
Hoping you're mine for the taking.
Your melodic laugh and dazzling eyes will be the death of me,
I swear.
All of this I think while I play with your cinnamon colored hair.
How crazy and blissful,
How absolutely remarkable.
There's nobody in this world that I've met
that is more likeable.
Sung to the tune of:
"He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother"
The spice was strong
The pasta was cooked too long
The garlic was everywhere, everywhere
And I know, meatballs were a big mistake
It laid heavy on my stomach
I ate too much
Butter and bread and such
The garlic was everywhere, everywhere
And I know, meatballs were a big mistake
It laid heavy on my stomach
If I lay down at all
I’ll get up with nausea
And then it’s up all night
that’s what garlic will cause ya
I know, cause I’m still belching
It laid heavy on my stomach