Famish Poems | Examples

1 reason why

I am the rot beguiling the saccharine summer hue
I am the self in selfish sorrow, sullying the morning dew
Sickened with the mortal blips of emotion
To fall with the fragility of flesh hipped erosion 
Hipped bone beneath browned bandage
Honed the hand hither, 'ncase fickle flesh cannot manage
T'stand aground the mortal vantage 
Health t'sickness, worn to wear, not to manage, thy
Breath be dragged'n rancid acid, lipped from the dazed haze of exhaustion 
She who had not a gun to brandish, but the naval blade o'self-famish
She who chose to awake, who awoke'n self-loathing 
Whose body is irate with the dawned dam break of bile
T'overflow mine own organs, and hinder the words of hungered mind
Breaking the tide of the thrum drum pendulum heart 
Shalt th'tounge twist rue th'bile duct of recovery 
Drool the drivel of a mere reason 'why?'
And retract the bile of thy sickened mind.

I am to drool the drivel, of love from human kind
Im so tired'f this mortal mortuary
In place of mortal mind.

I am the mind that threatens to die.
And i am the mind, prepared to fight.

Premium Member Setting The Linen Table

Out of the autumnal cold you arrive,
humbly individuals and families come in.
We're setting the linen table,
your burdensome famish ends here.
Feast with thanksgiving and God's Gospel. ~


Premium Member End Of Hunger

-----------------
Can't empty bowls be filled with rice 
   each day?
Whatever ever age, gender, color, or 
   creed
That mankind’s dire hunger be swept 
   away,
Not by crumbs when wheatfields are 
   lush, indeed.

The world yields enough crops through 
     sun or rain
And river beds swim with fish of 
     seasons;
Providing decent meals from nourished grain.
Then why this famish for selfish 
     reasons?

Man grows hungry ....yet, this is my 
    prayer:
That food NOT be used as greed for 
    money,
But life's blessing, God’s gift equal and 
    fair,
And nail this curse," wipe off trade’s 
   gluttony!"
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member god's harvest workers

gods harvest workers the hungry cry out to you....
let reaping begin

children gather....their tears of hunger in the dust
waiting for full bowls

a band of famish circle their bellies....nursing infant's
mothers thirst 

o see the lord's laborers gather grapes and grain....
yes god is so good

eat the produce of the fields....read his word in 
bible nourished again
Form: Monoku

Premium Member Eager Bard Imbued

Lemon tinted phase
gilded skyline blown
by ethereal fused mist 
eager bard imbued 
opal dream flotilla  
beyond tarnish while
flash point chariots 
of gleam-well canvass
astir or astern perforce 
taunt a hued vase 
porcelain image fest
for stoic earthbound 
soul’s cry parched 
stoic migrant famish 
sapphire plume ray
bounty veridical
pink chalk sketch
granule blush pots
pearl beam spur 
to jumpy pilgrim 
white elephant garb
drifter’s lull prone 
metre of skewed 
and barren glib
dull tossed aside 
rambles and brambles 
from cerebral quartz
grey quirky quill 
nose twitch petrichor
glacé smelt rain   
lava veined fillip 
fervent  fetal floe
ignited indigo inkling 
as noonday nuanced
glance en dash
away from orange 
peel cloud skies 
toward spring rush
urban junction fare
as founding cue
for zeitgeist driven 
western world eden


Premium Member LIVING WATER-

I am thirsty 
I am sorely in drought famish 
earnestly starving
 I come to the Father
To His son
 whom He allowed
 to be living water
 I come I am thirsty Lord Jesus
 I need replenishing come fill me with your---
 living holy water 
I breathe because of the Father Lord 
I come unto you I am thirsty Lord 
come unto me and fill my cup
I come you are my grazing Brook you are my soulless in the drought land you are the Quince of my thirst you feel me what's your soothing wet hands I'm dire without you with you I have fullness of life come feel me refresh me with the Living Waters you instill upon me Lord I drink righteousness now

11/24/23

come on y'all follow me

.

                           Firstly
               lets gather our bindles
             for our tramp may cause
                     ourn famish 


                           Well
                     Here we are
          at the westernmost edge uv 
                      the notable 
                         Atlantic

                      And there
            Butt 'gainst that citadel
                          wild
                  For generations
            beloved berry brambles 
 
                          Wait
                           oh 
                         i pray
                          wait
                     for there iz 
                   mine Rosheen
                  the feminine in
                  "Ginger waves"

                 and through the
                      Fall drops
                       i dreamt

                     and behold
                    there she be
                     hern ginger
                          and    
                   ocean cheeks
                         Hurry
                     Follow me

In the Question Is the Answer

What is She?

She is a thought.
an urge to go inside
where eyes go blind.

Where is She?

She is here, a loadstone
in the spinning wheels
of our maelstroms.
We carry Her,
as a hunger,
yet She nourishes
as lonely sorrows
famish away.

Why is She?

She is a dawn moon
for our dreaming.
A light
that will keep us guessing
why we are
until we find out
what we are not.

The Devil Dreads the Introvert

THE DEVIL dreads THE INTROVERT

A metonym 
of metonymy,
Introvertishly 
devilish.
Never gets

word famish,
eruption of moods
heated-up in solitary;
Sudden upheaval

wrecks a show.
Even
Devil quivers,
Pampering
the introvert,
Mute saturation 

of ambiance, even
Silence shivers;
Seismic shift...
Outspoken
quietness,

Sullenly silent,
Words token,
somberly sulking.
Raise a dust,

strike our pulse...
what's the fuss?
Carnival of fear,
confusion 'ere there,
Word economy 
is his human anatomy.

Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright© March 2021.

Feast of Beauty

FEAST OF BEAUTY

I thought humans don't eat humans
and bands don't break bands

But your beauty is eating me up - Cannibalism. 
Sheer barbarism and "taboolism",
Not empathic and absolutely no sympathy,
Emotions running high for your posh of beauty
As my own desires are feasting on me - Autocannibalism
Just like a person being consumed by or**sm.
Miss Farhana Sait,
Your charm is a bait
That lures mankind into your paradise gate. 
Set me in confinement,

multiplying multiple enjoyment;
Cocooned in your milky endowment.
If beauty were transactions and sold in zillions,
Yours would be priceless and raise common opinions.
Tiger doesn't eat Tiger when famish
Yet your looks feast on this Tiger in ambush.
All these models do is slay, slay & slay
But with the fangs of beauty & your outlay
You feast, feast & feast on your prey.
To survive your allure, this I pray.

Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rhyme.
Copyright © October 1st, 2020.
#OnTheSpotPoetry #inspiredbyFarhana
#inspiredbybeauty
#beautyappreciation
#feastoftheeyes #feastofbeauty
Form: Rhyme

Pay the Damn Fee

Pay The Damn Fee!
I felt so famish. 
Yet I knew I had to pay a fee.
I was in anguish.
I wanted to plead.
An alibi I needed to establish. 
So, no trouble would come for me
One that didn’t sound so outlandish. 
So, I’d be free.
To where my hunger could parish.
So, I could feed 
And finally, my need would vanish
I felt such glee
In my head, I decided. What the heck, just take that Cheese Danish, there’s no harm.
I grabbed it and shoved it into my pocket. Whoopee for me!
The officer put his arm on my shoulder from behind me. He had such glee
I already knew that I would be in trouble for not paying the fee.
“Crap officer, it was gluttony.” I said with honesty.
“Oh, I know, but I guarantee that you’ll pay your fee. With a cell mate named Candee.”

Because I Love Her

BECAUSE I LOVE HER

Because I love her,
I gave my heart to her
I battled my thought
And wrote a poem for her.

Because I love her,
I traded my life for her 
I bought gold and silver for her. 

Because I love her,
I made a vow to her
I told her I will love nobody but her.

Because I love her,
I went back in time for her
Like Prince Paris
I made Troy fall for her.

Because I love her,
I fought the sun for her 
I cease my breath for her,
And go after world for her.

Because I love her,
The food for my thought
Was given to her
And I famish for her.

Because I love her,
I went in space for her
I terminated mercury,
And created a satellite for her.

Because I love her,
I made love with her,
Her love was made for her 
And I love nobody but her.

(C) Adedamola Quadri Adeniyi 
All River Reserved 2017.

Jesus Covered Everything

Righteousness does deliver us from the 
jaws of death, the Lord will not suffer 
the soul of the righteous to famish, the 
Lord feeds us continually with his spiritual 
word, all that read this I pray you under-
stand it, the Saints struggle today internally, 
we constantly wage war against sin, if you 
should backslide while in campaign, re-
member love coverth all sins. For he so loved 
the world, he gave his only begotten son, to 
die for us on the cross, Jesus gives us prayer
power, and hope in our lives, when everything 
would seem to be lost.

Salah

Proverbs 10
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Nailing Man's Fear

While harvest of 
earth is bounty, divine
Millions cease to exist
 from starvation .
How to allay famine, 
a dreadful sign
When nature endows all 
without ration ?
The world yields enough 
crops through sun or rain--
And river beds swim 
with fish of seasons,
Providing decent meals 
from nourished grain
Then why this famish 
for selfish reasons?

Fear ll Contest, Debbie Guzzi   
---------------
* The United Nations estimates that about
795 million people of the 7.3 billion people
in the world, or one in nine, were suffering 
from chronic undernourishment in 2014-2016.

*It is believed that a principal underlying cause
of poverty and hunger is the operation of
economic systems in the world that resources
end up in the hands of a rich minority.
Form: Quatrain

Mom Away Mee This Way

Hey, son, Mom is outside,  
     so I'm off to cook for myself a bowl of sumptious mee...

She is the Minister of Kitchen, 
     I wouldn't dare cramp her style if I wish for my very own bowl of mee...

Pardon me if you should feel famish, 
   If next I upload a picture of my finished bowl of mee..

Slurp! Bound to be super duper delicious,
   For all the various ingredients to be found in Mom's Kitchen...

Recipe? Naw, what recipe are you thinking aloud,
   My taste buds are blessed to appreciate only the very best...

When Mom is out of her kitchen,
  I am the Maestro of jumbled dishes that my tastebuds sing out in praises...

I dare say nowhere can you find a bowl of mee like mine, 
  So tasty and delicious, mouth watering in appearance and smooth in texture..

Ya, ya, you are  right... you know much better..
  My bowl of mee is just a pack of instant noodle off the shelf in Mom's fridge..!

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