Insatiably Poems | Examples

Feeling Alone

Feeling alone
Insanely insatiably 
It crawls inside my gloom
Feeling alone
Or am I hallucinating 

Why am I 
Taking my life
For pain not caused by me
Why am I 
Taking my life

Pain fills me beneath my skin
It boils out 
Snuffing me out 
Repeating my soul to hell
Once more

Feeling alone
Feeling alone 
Feeling alone 
Feeling alone 
Feeling alone 

Soooo Lonely 
Longing for heavens gate
Heavens gate

1 Born Every Minute Price and Cost

Babies 

Children

The greatest gift on earth

The gift of life itself

Call the Midwife 

1 Born Every Minute

Unfortunately life as we
have come to know it

Is also insatiably Cruel as well

As the aforementioned greatest

Gift of all on earth the gift of life

Is sadly also sometimes bestowed and
then both wasted and taken for granted 
on those who can

And taken and stolen away from those
who can't

And again it is sadly the very same
children and babies

That eventually at the end of the day

Who are the ones to suffer and pay
the ultimate price and cost  

Of growing up and then having to
face up to the consequence of knowing

Their parents never actually wanted them
or had any interest or intention of ever
loving them

And I can only imagine that is not a life 
that any child or baby would
ever wish or willingly want to be born
into

Through absolutely no fault of their own

Exactly just like those unfortunate who
are unable to have children or babies
of their own very own

Night Sonatas

When all the noises around me are still,
I most clearly hear the voices in my head
It is then I experience the ultimate thrill.

Of melodies churning in my mind until
They find pleasure in my fingers instead,
When all the noises around me are still.

My fingers race across the keys in a trill,
Sometimes when I am asleep in my bed,
It is then I experience the ultimate thrill.

At the pianoforte, in my dreams, fulfill
The sonatas in the right key my soul bled,
When all the noises around me are still.

I hear the applause of an audience till
An encore plays over and over, I am lead
It is then I experience the ultimate thrill.

As I cannot seem to get ovations to fill
My heart and soul are insatiably fed,
It is then I experience the ultimate thrill
When all the noises around me are still. 

Written November 21, 2022

-hopeless Romantic-

I want to be a strong and gentle lover,

Who grows insatiably lovesick in sweet parting from the sticky sadness of summer.

I want to be a beautiful bluebird,

Who flew north faithful because of some splendid story he heard.

I want to be silly, a fool, daft, a puzzling predicament, absurd!

I want my life and my strife to be displayed and upstirred!

I want to be a better lover to the thoughts that slither through my skull.

But close tender my seeing eye to see my bitter being withstood.

My closed eye cannot pry how I might ever amount to much good.

I would love myself if I could,

But I'm not entirely sure I should.

There's only so much I could ever be,

I close my eyes and I can't see,

So cast my fickle eyes into the empty sea.

I wish I were a lover.

-end-

Joy

Call it what you will, my friend, 
This glowing exhilaration inside my heart 
Plucking the pizzicato strings of myself 
Exploding, making me feel, oh so, insatiably happy 
To be alive! ...  
          That I am free, 
          That I am growing, 
          That I am creating, 
          That I am in love with life itself … 
Call it what you will, my friend, 
But I shall call it joy! 


Written on February 8, 2021
Submitted to "Continuum on Joy" contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker

Insatiably Needing Angels

Cluster, clan, hanging bunch of grapes
   -    bustling collection children I dreamed
   -    Far from rationale, imagination run wild
   -    Adult life ridicules, idea is far less esteemed


  When I babysat, pretended they were mine
   -    even the Asian one. Try to stop my stories! 
   -    Wanted to be seen at sixteen as their mother 
   -    Saw caregiving and fun sharer as ultimate glory


   Perhaps a great majority of girls feel the same
    -  playing with dolls, structured, serious business 
    -  But of course, options are much more enlightening
    -  High valued career compared to the longing within us


  Being tied to a community, sweet trip indeed! 
   -   commitment delivered, rewarded for decades
   -   Blink away your tears, perfection, I'm always here
   -   Each Mother knows her gratitude returned in spades





11th November

Afflicting Covetousness

Wallowing in greed

insatiably covetous*

selfishness grievously poisons me...

Lord, forgive and transform my heart

by Your compassion toward lovingkindness-pursuit.

*Ephesians 5:5 For this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.

July 11, 2019
Edited on August 11, 2024
1st place, "A BRIAN STRAND 4 or 5 lines" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 8/12/2021

A Sequestered Fawn

Then

I
fear
not your
fond and soft
tenderness, but you
bidding farewell without ceasing
so, satisfy me with the fruit of your care and warmth
I was insatiably famishing, predatory for your love- you nourished with ease


Now

I
am
seeking
more than life
can bestow with ease
I’m depraved and a feared outcast
sanctified yet loathsome, I renounce my high spirits
for I am a sequestered fawn uninhabited and denied in the grove of life


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

howmanysyllables.com
1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21 syllables / 54 syllables total

Date written: January 8, 2019
Contest: Writing Challenge January, 2019- Fibonacci - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart

The Take

each counted piece
claimed scot free
beautiful designer name’s
boosted in a hunter’s craze
hustled hope for beggar’s pay
strictly spent audacity
dollars in hand 
turns an eye the devils way
it adds up fast, cut the stack in half
traded for a getaway
let it ride another day
living in a higher space
the rent is steep, edge of a mountain peak
separates the sow and the reap
and every breath in between
intoxicated on possibility
the grit to devour and shine,
the essence I define
insatiably taking what’s mine
watching the bottom line,
wise to the final count,
a sum of all things
the take

 

Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

Does She Not Know

Does she not know?
That when I sleep my mind wanders wills to find her,
And when the cold morning arrives,
And I awake alone,
I wonder if I should call her,
Boisterously announce my awakening,
From a night of restless thoughts and dreams of her,
And as I sit sipping coffee awaiting her arrival,
(Why for the first time in remembrance am I on time and even early?)
Time turns endless and then she appears,
My heart melts at the sight 
Of her kinky hair, cute feet
And beautiful smile,
So awash am I can’t even fathom the arms of another.
And still she cries out from the sea
For me to prove my love…
And my passion grows insatiably!

Her anguish and belittlement of our love
Cold steel that streaks my heart
For all the while I’m in the
Boat beside her
Laboring ore the oars
That keep us future bound.

She Saws

She Says
She says she’s 29
38
54
22
19, 84
And the fire of my desire for her 
Grows insatiably with each word.

She tests my head,
My heart…
Her sole consolation 
Awash in the tides of passion
Searching for my hand.

She says she’ll make me strong, tough,
A big man you’ll be…
The flicker in her eye’s a mystery
Unaware as to the well of this attraction
My passion grows insatiably…

Word Worth More Than Gold

Why is the word more precious than fine gold?
The truth it holds can never be destroyed
For sin whose deadly wage remains untold
Corrupts the soul and leaves an empty void

It fills a gap insatiably most rare
Within our hearts a breach we find like none
The word of truth as such may not compare
To anything that men had ever done

We worship what our hands had falsely made
Fools we become the idols that we shape
The truth above all else instead must crave
Than lust for lies which we cannot escape

Why fill we then our souls with treasures vain?
That neither profit nor true pleasures gain

Books a Resource Part Ii

Books are indeed work insatiably
For those who think hourly;
Hours are not fit in humorously
In the timeframe of honoree
Of books as they work icily
In the warm world’s ivory.
Books really slog matchlessly
For those who value immensely.
Hence friends! Value the ministry
Who control the Money’s mockery.

Books a Resource Part Ii

Books are indeed work insatiably
For those who think hourly;
Hours are not fit in humorously
In the timeframe of honoree
Of books as they work icily
In the warm world’s ivory.
Books really slog matchlessly
For those who value immensely.
Hence friends! Value the ministry
Who control the Money’s mockery.

Mourning Mug

Lifting the dark, heavy coffee mug, 
I drank to the comforts of drinking—
For the repossession of nostalgia

My neck was burning
As the liquid skipped down my throat, 
A moon-like face shining in the cup

I downed the rest of childhood,
Drowning in dismal déjà vu 
Staring at her sadly... reflecting

At the bottom of the mug,
She stared back insatiably  
Did she truly hate me—or miss me?

I drank to the last drip
I would only see her face again
When my distinctive thirst returned

• Short Insatiably Poems
• Famous Insatiably Poems
• Best Insatiably Poems
• Read Insatiably Poems
• Long Insatiably Poems
• Insatiably Quotes