Spirit-starved
sate my hunger if you will
humour me with comedy
'til I'm full and had my fill
for if music be the food of love
and laughter music of the soul
feast me on a funny song
nothing serious but something droll
tickle my funny bone with a tone
to make my toes all wriggle
and nourish me on melody
let me have a heartfelt giggle
With apologies to William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
You came into my life
like a hunger I never knew I had,
and somehow
I began craving something
I could never have.
There was something beautiful
about the danger in you,
something I knew
I should stay away from,
yet still found myself
walking closer.
Maybe I saw myself in you.
The darkness,
the loneliness,
the parts we keep hidden
behind a smile.
You were never mine,
but somehow
you left pieces of yourself
inside me.
And now I wonder—
was I drawn to you
because you were different,
or because you carried
the same emptiness
I had been trying to hide?
Maybe some people
are not meant to stay.
Maybe they're only meant
to awaken something in us,
then leave us
to deal with the hunger
they created.
And if that's what you were—
I still don't regret
meeting you.
A European among starving nations.
Some of the things I see
still startle me.
Pangs of hunger know no humiliation.
Starving children, their faces ashen,
with sunken eyes and bloated bellies,
God forsaken, gourmandize what they can seize
from mouths of dogs in dog day heat.
To the hungry soul
every bitter thing is sweet.
Prompt "Funeral of fireflies"
Funeral of Fireflies
Winter
Bites
The street
A jute bag
Bare feet bleed
Torn cloth holds no warmth
Hunger walks beside him like a shadow
His eyes are small fires begging someone to buy bread and bring heat
But hope dies
Like sun
On a cold
Mountain peak
Snow falls, silent
He wraps himself in jute, a coffin
At midnight fireworks bloom while the world forgets
A boy dies at twelve with light still trapped in his eyes, a firefly no one cupped
The city drinks
And laughs
Above his
Frozen grave
We buried
Kindness
Tonight the last fireflies went out
Never able
to wash away
this stain
my heart
has bled
Never able
to birth
the words
of feelings
left unsaid
Never able
to move
beyond
this chasm
in my head
Never able
to answer
why
the hunger
— stays unfed
(Dreamsleep: July, 2026)
It is stronger
than sympathy
Words are rattling bones,
when the meat is gone
The world is hungry
while you are bored
The divide is insulting:
cashmere and caviar
versus clouded water
and calloused feet
“In our city of lost alphabets”
I hope to find a mirror
to see myself
I wasn't with the answers
I can’t afford to go there,
nor am I strong enough
to understand the intimacy
of starvation
James Baldwin described it palpably
in ‘Black Boy’
The last stage of hunger
is when grass is an option
The minister ate
all the fried chicken!
The kids naw
on wishbones
and fiddle with sticks
in the dust
They tell us to believe
That for god we have to give and not expect to receive
That god will fix us
That god will help us
That god is the one to always put first
But maybe
The strange man in the sky
Cannot determine the path of I
Who stares at a world full of
Hunger and pain
The men who cannot refrain
The cities that barely remain
The peace that never came
Waiting
Twisted truths
And religion
Are they not the same?
(Disclaimer ?? I do not believe in God however I do not discriminate those who do and I respect others religions and their beliefs. These are just my opinions.)
Last Bone Last Breath
Three vultures circle fighting beasts for prey
All village dead and gone where dry winds sway
Drought cracked the mud walls and ate the light of day
No footstep no voice just dust in cold display
One skinny child left last hope where none stay
His bones show through skin in a thin display
Skin cracked and black no drop of water to stay
Hands lie in desert soil tied limp no play
His mother rests near well with no spray
He calls her name again praying she’ll stay
Fear and grief whisper like cold wind sway
But his eyes still hold fire a small dim ray
She turns she lives hunger fades away
Rain follows his whisper clouds obey
Hope holds on hard even when death comes to slay
the starving novelist writes,
ink thinning like his sleepless nights~
a hunger that still ignites.
The feeling of dread as I hear,
“Come for dinner.”
All I can truly think about:
“How many calories?”
“Will I gain weight?”
I’m truly scared that this is my fate.
Sitting in front of my toilet,
Two fingers stuck down my throat—
It’s a good feeling,
All I can do is boast.
I haven’t eaten in weeks;
It’s not foreign.
Is this really my calling?
They always say to me,
“You need to eat.”
But I don’t want to indulge
Into any delicious treat.
It’s too fattening.
Fat.
It’s my biggest fear to gain those pounds.
It’s scary, so I won’t eat.
After a while I couldn’t eat,
And it led me to no sleep.
Keep.
It’s not hard to keep words like these a secret;
In this world, beauty is all I believe in.
Grievance.
I grieve for the old me,
The one who didn’t care about food troubles,
Or the fact that I want a McDouble.
But I can’t—
I truly can’t.
It’s a struggle to not eat.
I swear it’s killing me.
I can’t stomach it.
I’ll be like this forever...
Well, I’ll just have to dwell in it.
I'm starving while the world around me
Is overflowing in poetry
I find it funny that I could feed upon
The heaps of unread stories
And still find myself being fed less and less
By the authors who throw away their voices
Like scraps that are better wasted for a nightstand,
Bought in a place unsatiated to their lust in being known,
so I write another poem
and I starve, like a wolf,
Oh how I starve.
Hungering woman!
After many lean years
Hungry in heart
To point of tears -
Hungry for everything
That woman needs
Hungry for words
And hungry for deeds -
Hungry for kindness
Hungry for warmth
Hungry for love
To the point of remorse -
Hungry for whole
And for each part -
Hungry for soul
And hungry for heart!
Hungering woman!
You're never there
You say you need me
Then flee into air
Each day each week
I think and toil
Passion wells up
My blood comes to a boil
Waiting for you
Or simply your call
With my mind burning,
Nerves stretched out tall,
With cannons shooting
All through the lung,
With forks inserted
Into the tongue,
With gut contorted
With burning eyes
Hearing distorted
Throat bound by ties
With shaking ligaments -
Knees growing weak -
With all within me
Waiting to break -
With heart impaled
On the end of the knife.
Hungering woman!
You eat me alive!
It was there, in places where we brushed against the shore. Fingertips,
for example, and bellies. This back when we were living
in strangers' houses, in an alien light, stolen from beneath windows.
We were young and both equally pale, our feet frozen blue.
The low tide meant no more than warmth and we absorbed the damp
with parted lips, raised ever so slightly. Where everything was clear.
And nothing was ever too much. We ate one another, and hunger,
that cold touch, tied knots within, then rose towards our mouths.
ah, the perils of intermittent fasting...
Cravings call my name at night,
cookies whisper soft delight;
willpower flees out of sight~
salad waits alone.
Hunger is terrible, it hurts, it gives us sadness, it makes us feel so down.
Hunger is from the intent to dominate, the failure to make food free and available.
Hunger was never like this, food use to grow freely, like apples and all kinds of food.
Hunger was created to cause us harm, to make us pay, to make us be under control.
Hunger should be abolished, food should grow freely again, farming should be taught to all, and all should be able to learn.
Hunger can be ended, everyone should take notice and take time to end hunger forever.
Hunger walk-in places should be created to feed people, no one should go hungry, making them angry and unable to feel good.
So feed the hungry, grow food freely, work toward the best we can be today and into the future.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
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