Long Gluttony Poems
Long Gluttony Poems. Below are the most popular long Gluttony by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gluttony poems by poem length and keyword.
Dance, Monkey, Dance!
Commiserate with the dearly departed
The dead stay dead
Consummate your marriage with anarchy
Dance, monkey, dance!
The media plays you like a fiddle
This life's damned little diddle
Surely there is solace in fear
Birth a scapegoat
While gods parade golden parachutes
Life is ugly
Death is beautiful
A foundation of futility
Every soldier dead
On foreign soil
Build a fence
To keep out the goats
To keep the sheep free
From impurities
Dance, monkey, dance!
Life's tune plays in your ear
Tuned out by words replaying in your mind
Just regurgitated thoughts
That aren't your own
Line the streets with gold
To watch the chaos unfold
Your child's soul was sold
By gratuitous gluttony
Commiserate with the nearly departed
The living could continue living
Consummate your marriage with your own thoughts
Don't be a dancing monkey!
Gluttony
October 8, 2014 at 3:15am
GLUTTONY
(Halloween poem)
Greed is the glutton
that impales the mind,
heart,stomach and soul.
it consumes the eyes.
shuts down the mind
The stomach swells-
The heart is numb.
It be then,empathy fails.
No mercy for self
take more than you need
The bulging eyes react.
With grimy hands,
Evil penetrates
The gluttonous soul of man..
To counteract
We must react
It will be a mistake if we wait,
We must stuff you with garlic,
Pierce your heart with a stake;
Chop off your head.-
Oh but we must.
Right before dusk..
No longer will you lust
I beg,I beg,give gluttony
Over to the miserable
land of the Un-dead.
The neighborhood buffet boasted
fried chicken and biscuits, toasted,
creamy gravy, and smashed taters.
You can serve yourself, no waiters.
Into the long line you will strut
more than ready to fill your glut.
Bypass the green salads and soup;
run quickly, to the fried foods swoop
all you can eat for one price cheap.
Pile your plate high in one big heap.
If one plate full is not enough,
get back in line and your mouth stuff
with fried okra and sweet cornbread,
rice, beans, pasta, and liver spread.
Undo your belt a notch or two
so one more bite you can chew.
Desserts abound, cookies and cakes,
puddings, custards, tarts, and milk shakes.
Round out the meal with soft ice cream.
Maybe two cones won’t burst a seam.
You leave, with a bloated waist thick,
well-sated, and full as a tick.
They wage war on the poor
Selling their souls what for
But for gluttony and greed
Dissension is what they breed
Harmony and discord
A duality we can't afford
People die on the street
Chilled to the bone, no heat
No bread, no bed
So they commit suicide instead
And the system is so corrupt
A melting pot is ready to erupt
Boomers failed the youth
Doomers birthed who know the truth
16.07 is the living wage
But 7.25 has us locked in a cage
And we work hard to line their pockets
Yachts, mansions, pensions, and rockets
Racial tension is their weapon
So we don't collectively unify and step in
They say work hard and achieve American dreams
But the reality is not what it seems
Connections grant privilege to the rich like royalty
As they demand we stand for the flag and show loyalty
I'm tired of being a stepping stone and I'm not alone
And this is what we've been shown
Epstein didn't kill himself we know
Another death to protect those in power and another low
America grows darker by the hour
So in a moment of clarity
There is no peace and prosperity
This is a raw deal and we need a green new deal
Because I'm tired of being a spoke on the wheel
Illiteracy is on the rise and that's our demise
Because they can feed us their lies
They blame us and claim we have no ambition
But survival is the majority's mission
Stuck paycheck to paycheck until we're dead
And those who care get shot in the head
I beg you to put your hand on your chest
Against your beating heart are we doing our best
Laws against sleeping in the car, sleeping on the sidewalk
These don't fix the problem but we can't talk
Because they balk and say you should have done better
Anything to lick the boots of the debtor
But despite all of my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage
Soon to be a forgotten footnote, a faded page
And that wheel is going to keep turning
As American lives go up in flames we're burning
But that hatred is twisting deep inside
And revolution is what we need if I must confide
The system is built on a foundation of failure, it's broken
But our passion and fury has been awoken
For this is our watershed moment to stave off calamity
After discouraging decades of enmity
So if they must wage war on the poor
We'll wage war on a system we abhor
Midst exciting functional cooking session
provoking strong eating urges’ passion
my appetite strides for flavorful progression
brave to defy menus’ farting repercussion.
There’s sizzling pride in hot arrogance, deeply fried
buttered selfishness floats atop oil, dairy-fied
turmeric-colored hypocrisy becomes chillified
all oozing with toxic apathy, nonchalantly garlickied.
Then, smoothie doubt shimmers along unbelief’s iridescence
dissatisfaction-shake bubbles against greed’s effervescence
ingratitude latte blends well with unforgiving senescence
pessimism froth radiates negativism’s gloomy presence.
Oh, salad-filled praise plate suppresses gluttony, so savoury
sumptuous thanksgiving buffet melts sugar-coated flattery
special compassion servings surpass covetousness’ territory
saucy sharing soup shuts selfishness, bitterly peppery.
Yet, impatience-steak challenges rudeness-indigestion
as slothfulness desserts tempt mediocrity-salivation
sautéed jealousy veggies cause haughty taste buds’ vexation
bringing sweetened bad mouthing* toward belly-bloating’s fartixation.
*Matthew 15:11 Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a man.
October 6, 2021
4th place, "May The Gas Be With You Part 2" Poetry Premier Writing Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 10/9/2021.
Franky was seven and having a party
He told all his school-mates, except for Spud Carty
And once they had heard that Spud wasn't invited
All of them said they were really excited
And then at the party the kids all had fun
Which might have continued if Spud hadn't come
Spud didn't play games, he was not in the mood
He’d much rather stuff himself full of free food
He grabbed all the biscuits and scoffed the whole lot
And all the Bombay mix although it was hot
He snaffled the sarnies and some went down whole
Then grabbed the spaghetti piled up in a bowl
He gobbled so much that he struggled to chew
Then Franky cried out, that's not only for you
Spud simply laughed spitting food as he said
We all gotta eat... or else we'd be dead
And that was when poor Franky found himself wishing
His dad had stayed home and had not gone off fishing
Spud sucked spaghetti like slithering snakes
And said when I'm done, gonna find me some cakes
But Franky looked sick and he started to squirm
That sgetti looks just like a wriggly worm
And Spud got annoyed when he heard someone giggle
Don't be so stoopid, spaghetti can't wriggle
Spud swallowed more, that spaghetti was yummy
He said with a grin as he patted his tummy
You lot he shouted must really be thick
To get the food first you'd have to be quick
The front door swung open, there stood Franky's dad
He looked a bit angry, in fact he looked mad
I’m meant to be fishing but I'm running late
I got to the lake but forgot all my bait
I've checked out the shed and I've looked all around
Wherever I look there's no bait to be found
Was it indoors his son Franky enquired
So it would be handy when it was required
Right there on the table his father confirms
An old plastic dish, full of wriggly worms
And that was when Spud's belly started to grumble
And everyone heard his guts starting to rumble
Spud almost flew to the lavatory
What happened next was a horror story
And when throwing up seemed much less of a danger
He left with kids calling out, Don't be a stranger!
Malignant Avarice
by Odin Roark
How pernicious
This featureless monster
Lurking in shadows of cravings
Knowing well its metastasizing power
The child in man squints
Observing the ghost like presence
Segueing centuries past
Where both kings and peasants
Priests and flocks
Bankers and customers
Toyed with the infectious apparition
Ignorant of its ravenous nature
Time continues its partner
Tiptoeing surreptitiously
From party ice cream
Through adolescent hormonal voracity
Into awakened narcissism
Clever its disguise
Masquerading upwards through corporate
Domestic
Spiritual safe havens
Where waning immunities
Await ready infection
Long ago
The child giggled
Birthday cake and gifts
So innocent
Gluttony and greed remained
Unknown enemies
Until...
As moonlight threatens
the night's ebon cloak.
A blistering thought
has kept me woke.
This thought so vile
so terribly grim,
yet so fulfilling
to my every whim.
I leave the warmth of my bed chamber
and into the cold damp street.
To quench this gnawing craving
deep in my heart so deep.
As I pass strolling strangers,
I turn up collar to cutting air.
They seem oblivious to dangers
and look through me, as thou I were not there.
I walk with purpose like a hunter,
deep in the dark wood.
In search of a sacred something
so sweet, delicate and good.
Finally I duck into a small cafe,
where I have had success in past.
Snaring unsuspecting prey,
to star in this role that must be cast.
I slide so stealth into vacant booth.
Where I'm forced face to face,
with this moment's
moment of truth.
My waitress smiles and pours
a tall, thick cup of Joe.
I find myself blowing and sipping
very carefully and very slow.
And there one of Zeus' daughters parked
with one hand playfully twisting her golden hair.
The other gently cutting with a fork
a delightful chocolate Eclair.
I watched ever longingly
as her lips caressed every delicious bite.
It was then and there I knew
my chosen victim of this night.
Then she stood up
so regal yet so fair,
paid and looked at me,
with a pure endearing stare.
She then walked out the door
and gently out of sight.
Disappearing like a sweet vapor
into the misty mystic night.
As her perfume soon left
the now sad lonely air.
I asked my lovely waitress
for a tempting chocolate Eclair.
So she sorrowfully informed me
that the lovely lady had had the last.
I then had to alter my well laid plans,
and alter them rather fast.
With heart frantically beating and beating,
and the search of the menu repeating and repeating,
for a substitute to satisfy.
And there for my appetite at last
the words "Lemon Meringue Pie."
Now so graciously placed before me,
this heaven's little slice.
With every taste teasing and pleasing,
I decided to try it twice.
As I took the last bite stalling,
I could hear my conscious calling.
I told self we'll pay Piper tomorrow,
but tonight I'm feeding gluttony and drowning sorrow.
9/25/18
Very rarely will you ever see,
anyone who hates money more than yours truly.
"Well, If you don't want your money,"
they say to me constantly,
"you can always give it to me."
They don't even hear themselves sadly,
not realizing that money, are the chains that enslave everybody.
Consider this;
You and I are captives, shackled at our feet,
secured to a solid steel post buried 100 feet deep,
with only 10 feet of chain to wander our way,
fed a glass of water and slice of bread only once each day,
while just out of our reach lies an amazing buffet,
of a great variety of food and beverage unattended everyday.
Delirious I scream out, "I wish I didn't have these chains!"
and that's when the other captive generally would exclaim,
"If you don't want your chains, you can always give them to me,
then I could get to that buffet just out of reach."
The guard on patrol appears suddenly,
approaching both of us very menacingly,
and walks directly to yours truly,
and asked rather demandingly,
"Do you want this one to have your chains? Answer Me!"
"Yes, please," I begged sheepishly,
so he removed my chains and added them securely,
to the other captive that had accompanied me.
You reach that buffet and consume with great gluttony.
"That buffet will all be gone inevitably,"
said the guard to the already petrified yours truly,
"and once it's gone this one is going to die horribly,
because this is the last meal this one will ever see."
Afraid, I ask submissively,
"What now is to become of me?"
The guard looked me in the eye and said sternly,
"You have been released from your chains. You are free."
I guess I was in shock initially,
but the guard snapped me out of it immediately.
"What's the matter!? Do you not want to leave!?
Get The Hell Out Of Here! GO, You're Free!"
.. maybe this isn't the greatest analogy,
to express my true contempt for money,
and how stupid people sound when they say to me,
"If you don't want your money you can give it to me."
The sun is hot and hard to bear
All out of options – nobody cares
You're looking for an accomplice in your greed
So who's gonna come to the aid
Of a leper in need?
You tasted too much and left things empty
From the quart of rum to the horn of plenty
See where this kind of gluttony can lead?
Now who's gonna come to the aid
Of a leper in need?
We're a colony unto ourselves
Castoffs, expats, infidels
We're the black sheep – even Mother Theresa agreed
She never once came to the aid
Of a leper in need
Waitin' on a sign
Waitin' to be freed
A stitch in time
Might save nine
But it ain't never saved
No leper in greed
Some righteous people help the poor
They live their guilt right to the core
But as for me, well that just ain't my speed
I never done one wrong thing
To any leper in need
In some Third World nation, far from here
They're exorcising the demons we fear
The missionaries come with their Apostles' Creed
Small consolation for us lepers in need
Waitin' on a line
For a conscience to read
It's bad-faith time
For the body and the wine
Dead grapes on the vine
And a leper in need
So wrap us in tents and hide us away
A quarantine ward on visiting day
Come take a look, but don't touch us
Or we'll bleed
The world's an open sore for a leper in need
I'll trade my sore for yours –
Yeah I'm leper in need