The Stream Of Greedy Dreams.
From the crown falls the stream,
the stream of greedy dreams,
which making its own way
flows all night and day.
It washes away the meek sand
and overflows the small pebbles,
but narrows itself amid
huge rocks and mighty hills.
It flows among crops and trees
and also among no use weeds.
It grows by length and breadth
and tries to drown the whole earth.
Alas! The end comes its way
as it mingles with the bay.
The dreams get lost in the sea so vast
Made of many dreams so lost.
Fatty doggy
Happy sleepy
Witty
Greedy
Pulsing
Patting
Thumping
Hugging
Trendy
Friendly
Watching
Dreaming
Barking
Chasing
A friend
At hand
It was the last rose.
Forbidden but I had to have it.
Clutched it with no regret.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Was a woman known as Fifi
She was stingy and greedy
God changed her heart
Like getting a new car
Donated her hoarding to needy
I’m so greedy,
I’m nothing but a monster,
Reading stronger then I should,
Someone like me shouldn’t be loud,
I’m just a weak and honest fool they said,
But it was Beacues of them I became greedy.
Greedy for eyes,
Greedy for attention,
GREEDY ONLY ON STAGE,
When i perform on the stage,
I hope for nothing but one goal,
TO DEVOUR EVRY SHRED OF LIGHT,
To leave you all blind and lightless like me,
Like me when I’m not on stage like this now,
I plan to be the only light you’ll look at all show.
I know I’m greedy,
But that’s only because I’m pathetic,
A sin born from there up-comings.
-Kitsuko Dragonstar
Greedy is the Light
Exposing thieves
as She herself
steals My darkness away
Here they come.
Hungry eyes like open mouths.
Lusting.
Taking. Taking. Taking.
Their hands never tremble with doubt,
only demand more of me.
I know my place, a vessel,
a thing to be filled and emptied,
again and again and again.
They reach for me like I owe them my breath,
and I give it,
I’ve forgotten what it feels like to keep something for myself.
Whenever they want.
There is no adoration here.
No questions asked.
I am pliant. I am present.
I am pliant. I am present.
They leave me hollow,
less careful each time they use me,
Like I’m already broken.
Am I already broken?
Stained with their sweat and seed,
I try to scrub the stench of them from my skin,
but it clings
a film of all the times I mistook greed for love.
I want to wake up,
but this isn’t a nightmare.
This is just the life I’ve lived.
And somewhere beneath my ruined temple,
a quiet voice still whispers
You were never meant to be consumed.
No heirs will sniff my dying bed,
No priest will spoon me from his book.
I spit the staged lament away,
The velvet hush, their hoping face.
Wheel me to the window’s edge—
Let dawn’s knife enter through my chest.
The world will turn without my name;
I will dissolve into its dust enraged.
It is the way of the people,
people like you, people like me.
It is the way of the people,
to want whatever they see.
It is the way of the people,
people like you, people like me.
It is the way of the people,
to take whatever they please.
It is the way of the people,
people like you, people like me.
It is the way of the people,
to keep whatever they seize.
How many, many people
called this sad land their own?
How many, many people
lost this land they called home?
People like you, people like me,
pushed again, lost again, wandering free.
It is the way of the people,
taking from those who came before.
It is the way of the people,
to want and want and forever want more.
People like you, people like me,
taking from you, taking from me.
Taking dreams, scattering bones
of people like you, people like me,
without life, without homes.
Torn asunder, left to wonder
by people like you, people like me.
The world spins out another
people like you, people like me,
to drive and push away
people like you, people like me.
Thus it has been, thus it is,
for people like you, people like me.
Must it always be?
The world will not be destroyed
By nuclear, viruses and diseases
But by greedy fools and lunatic leaders
Greed and stupidity combined a dangerous threat
Create conflicts, wars and destructions
Social inequality and environmental problems
As long as greed and stupidity exist
The world remains fragile and vulnerable
To the dangerous stupid and greedy fools
The mind should evolve to culture and spirituality
Is needed to overcome the most terrible threats.
Some family members
Is a real piece of work
They don't do anything
Nor give a helping hand
To help with their elderly
Or disabled parents or
Relatives, they live there
Happy life without a care
In the world, while some
other relative sacrifice their
Time to help out but the second
One of them dies, the
Do nothings comes around
Expecting something, like
Money, the house, the car
But they never lifted a finger
To help, the decease family member
But even if you get something
You're still a loser in the end
Don is my dear daddy, Daddy loves tasty toddy, Drinking toddy is his hobby, His hobby is quite greedy , A greedy man overcomes his body , And his body becomes fatty.
You hold a noble heart,
all-knowing, ever-dynamic,
a wit laced with sarcasm, yet playfully light.
Your form—sculpted, divine,
laughter, a melody spun from heaven.
A garden blooms in your presence,
ever radiant, ever alive.
And for all of this, I am guilty.
Of greed, of longing—
I want you.
Yes, While Evil Spreads Its Long Greedy Hands
In this world wherein poets dare to live
A crazy place where evil flourishes
O' but tis it not true rich barely give
Honey and manna that so nourishes
Yet the greedy ones take all they can get
They screaming loud, "we must have more and more"
We are busy stealing our biggest score
Poet sees this and elaborates
About wickedness, unsatisfied greed
With poetic words what pure truth so states
Of the plight of the hungry so in need.
Yes, while evil spreads its long greedy hands.
Downtrodden organize to take their stand.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
May 14th, 1979
There's someone who was once close to me,
I told them to kick rocks and leave me be.
They think that I am unawares,
that I don't know who is there.
Watching every move I make,
breathing with every breath I take.
The apples from the tree they do tell,
as they rot where they fell.
The bees all buzzing around the sweetness,
the rotten apple is what pleases.
Not too far from her tree,
all the bees want to sting me.
I will wait until winter comes,
when the bees no longer hum.
And all the leaves,
have left her tree.
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