children of hoarders
I imagine they are similar to children of ministers
they either embrace their parents’ lifestyle
or they run from it screaming
I see many of them living in a minimalist’s habitat
with few surroundings
whereas their siblings are also hoarders,
living in cluttered rooms with messy paths
I see many children of preachers, themselves preaching the word
getting the calling
whereas, their siblings are transsexual and will never go inside a church again
it is often feast or famine for these children
If you come to my occasion
Maybe birthday or dedication
You'll be to me like a red rag to a bull
Asking for rice knowing the price of a bagful
Our common and daily food
Is becoming an august food
Either our leaders aren't aware
Or they just don't care
This continuous bulging in the price of rice
Coming from a government thought will be super-nice
Is nothing but a rape of hope
Pushing the masses to where they'll never be able to cope
With the lamentation of those who market rice in bagful(s)
And the masses that don't have their pocketful
We don't need a teacher to tell us that the situation has become rotten
Yet they want to make the rotten situation golden
Those who failed to achieve their pocketful of promises
See this rottenness as golden to make many more promises
Our situation is either feast or famine
Which we all need to examine
The rapes and the ravages are too many
that make us pickle
While the precautions are too little that make us tingle
In their timetable they've made it turn by turn
It's left for us to learn or continue to yearn
Shhhhhhh listen very carefully
D'ya hear that happy sound
The corn is high five-ing each other
The rain's finally pounding down
After a record hot dry summer
Getting buckets of that miracle stuff
The grass is giggling just like the corn
Sure hope it ends up as enough
Nature is quite unpredictable eh
One year to the next one following
We never know if it's feast or famine
In self pity we're always wallowing
Should know by now nothing's for sure
The weather will do it's own thing
The only event we can rely on each year
Is that winter is followed by spring
Shhhhhhh, listen very carefully
D'ya hear that happy sound
Mother Nature's shining down again
With her shimmering golden crown
In the City of Galactic Beings of light, there is no disease no feast or famine
floodlight beings from another dimension take our best interest at heart
They own Divine connection to each and every one of us
as they pour out light, truth and inspiration they help us to
stay connected to each other...
They lead us to inspired thought and action, 22 intergalactic races
living in communion as one under one big beautiful, pulsing sun
The battle has been won already, we just need to open our eyes and see
that the destruction of humanity is on a set course for a re-awakening
we will all soon move like luminous vapors into the nimbus light of God
some of us limping, some of us whole, some of us sectioned off
but we will All be loved under the big red umbrella of UNCONDITONAL LOVE
The Poem Is Dedicated To My Friend Dianne
Without Her Love And Understanding, I would not have understood
the grandeur side of this wonderful act of selfless love...
taciturn springs rising
from within the quarry
of deep earth's wisdom
urging lyrical waters to transpose
while held like singing seas of living reveries
of history and infinity
misting to meld with rainfall dreams
Falling like ancient messages
into the orchard of molecular landscapes
drawn to penetrate its legacy
embedded in the rockeries and rills
blanketing the groves of dirt and ferns
teeming in the arcadian oasis
feeding feast or famine
flourishing the solicitude of springtime
in spider spun dreams
of longings in ancient oaks
merging with the ebb of shedding sycamores
in salted seas teeming and exalting
the rhetoric of existence
in musing opaque vapors
mingling into pervasive clouds
bleeding life
cached in the creche
of pastoral beginnings
of everlasting eddies
watering the garden of dreams
April 22, 2020
Rewritten: October 3, 2020
Your Best Free Verse 2020
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Love is the halo of my heart
the curved bow of my steely dart
the signature of my hand write
the diamond shine of my sunlight
Love is my truest companion
my hungering feast or famine
my distressor, my dopamine
my soul's benefactor & sheen
Love is both turbulence and calm
a hand offering, a peaceful alm
a juxtaposition-sibling
and a song thats ready to be sung
Love is a bouquet of flowers,
with the scent of April showers.
June 22, 2018
One Moment
One moment
Never meant to happen
Yet always planned for
When two of Olympus’ greatest
Apollo and Selene come together
Meeting above our Earthly plain
To look down on the lands below
Deciding our fate for the year
Whether it will be feast or famine
Whether we will have illness or health
If we will live happy or with grief
No one will notice when they dance
Or if they sing their special song
And that moment they will be long gone
But the decisions will be made
We may never know what they decided
And that may be our blessing
Blackbirds Circling To Eye The Dark Festive Feast
Feast or famine, orbs in heart of a crow
love 's bright spirit and all it may bestow
Winging shadows fleeing fast every scene
bitter bile erupting from opened spleen
Flying in dark storms, hoping for a strike
dead soldiers, each head vaulted on a spike
Wonders within cleverly hidden clouds
priests in deep caves wearing unholy shrouds
Future life and great hopes it may reveal
when nothing matters, nothing there to steal
Blackbirds circling to eye dark festive feast
not even love soothes the raging black beast
Love and Fate doing battle worlds away
which is the greater fighter hard to say
Robert J. Lindley, 11-05-2016
Sterling November and I can feel the winds of change
Now in the shadow of the moons' bright light
Well we may not have it all together but together we
Have it all somehow that gives me hope
Wagon half empty, wagon half full well it's all in how
You look at it and this season of giving nothing is taken
For granted feast or famine it's all good although this
Year the barn is a lost cause I must say God has been
Benevolent today
I close my eyes and bow my head in prayer arms full
Of firewood in the cold frozen air and that gives me
Faith over fear tonight my heart is aware
In the shadow of the moons' bright, bright light now we
May not have it all together but together we have it all
Somehow and gives me the hope to cope as I gather
The last little bit of The Autumn Harvest...
Passionate kisses fall upon my hungry lips,
As loving hands, caress my cheeks.
Knowing eyes look deep into my soul,
Searching for my innocence
That wanders lost and starving
Inside my darkness.
Soothing words call forth restrained emotions
Locked deep within the ravenous confines
Of my loneliness.
The sweet aroma of your passion
Wafts gently into my nose
And fills my head with the promise
of your delectable sustenance.
Do I break my fast
And ingest your delicious promises
That entice my hungry senses?
Do I let my love starved innocents
Be found by your searching eyes?
Shall I follow those soothing words
Straight to the rapturous bounty
That is your love?
Or trust those loving hands
And take hold,
And be pulled from the dark depths
Of my loneliness and emotional famine?
Am I ready
to feast upon the sumptuous banquet you offer,
Or has my appetite been lost forever?
I think I will just taste your passionate kisses
And let my heart decide
How hungry it really is.
Forever is a long time
To forever live without the one you love
Forever sees all but is blind
To watch your love slowly die
What is death but life anew
To fly to places you can't conceive
What is life that cannot die
When living itself becomes the disease
When life becomes eternal there is no past
Your always first but yearn for last
A thousand years race by
Forever is fast and forever is shy
If you love your pain will grow
Until your life lives without it's soul
You've been peasant prince and supreme
You had it all and lust for nothing
The taste of food the fruits of wine
In feast or famine it's all benign
Treasures forgotten memories fade
The only thing certain is night and day
Dreams are woven into realities
What was is and what will be has been
Every seed you've spawn is a fatality
Truth is fragile but lies live long
You've prayed to a thousand gods
Hollow is your heart, void is your mind
Sleepless you have become
Forever is a long time
Shhhhhhh, listen very carefully
D'ya hear that happy sound
The corn is high five-ing each other
The rain's finally pounding down
After a record hot dry summer
Getting buckets of that miracle stuff
The grass is giggling just like the corn
Sure hope it ends up as enough
Nature is quite unpredictable eh
One year to the next one following
We never know if it's feast or famine
In self pity we're always wallowing
Should know by now nothing's for sure
The weather will do it's own thing
The only event we can rely on each year
Is that winter is followed by spring
Shhhhhhh, listen very carefully
D'ya hear that happy sound
Mother Nature's shining down again
With her shimmering golden crown
© Jack Ellison 2013
I saw the top of a crocus today
peeking through the sod.
How odd
upon this New Years day
to see a sign of spring!
It seems the weather does bring
hope and joy and sorrow
a promise of feast or famine
greater than all our resolutions.
And have we adversely affected
the climate that is projected
to come our way ...
who can say?
I saw the top of a crocus today.
Some days, they flow like the nile,
bringing life to the parched soil.
Some days, they bring forth
a dark emotion to the open
like waves of a raging sea,
swelling to break free.
These voices in my head
screaming at me.
Other days, like prying fingers
of the long dead.
They are cemented in my head.
No matter how I ply.
Still they stay,
locked away,
awaiting another day.
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