Long Hunger Poems

Long Hunger Poems. Below are the most popular long Hunger by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hunger poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Sometimes Love Is Not Enough

It was instant attraction without hesitation
We were meant for each other, two hearts…
Melting into one beautifully gentle song,
Almost creating a sincere connection of hope.

We dreamed the dream of shared passions
Opening our minds to the ultimate warmth…
Breathing into each other the sweetest joy,
A whisper of angel’s wings freeing our spirits.

There was a vision felt ascending between us
A hunger for merging all our finest dreams…
Persuading feelings that reach down to the core,
Touching a satisfying faith for what tomorrow holds.

We shared our thoughts and deepest inner treasures
Pure gold sparkled when our eyes made contact…
Whatever came we knew we would be there together,
In the most intimate relationship either of us had known.

Then, one afternoon, the ecstasy turned to mourning
What had been the answer changed into a question…
Would we ever overcome the transformation we felt,
In moments, our harmony became a disastrous storm.

We tried to remind ourselves of the past pleasures
The stars in our eyes turned to flashes of lost hopes…
Suddenly the worst days were there before us,
And we realized what we had was failing to nourish.

Finally, we decided to let go and leave the dream
What once was good had turned to remembrance…
Love, when lost, feels like someone must have died,
Yet, there is something inside that forgets if it was you or me.

September 9, 2019
Sometimes love is not enough Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One


Now That

Now that we know struggle 
    can exist in commemoration meetings
        museums, battlegrounds or rivers
           now that we know soldiers too can
             be bourgeoisie making business 
              workers can govern or dance to be
                   Love can be free

Vagabonds can write poetry 
    advocates count syllables astutely 
       architects forgetting about wheelchairs 
          now that presidents fail farmers fickle 
              with colonels wanting to sing sonatas
                now that heroes hymn in the heavens 
                  we know Soul has no gender or class
      
Now that we know hunger is only a lesson
   and rage a rampant note going past 
       now that we know eyes are but mirrors 
              through Dark Ages with democracy
                imprinted on genes
                   now we can touch exuding Light

So let’s smell a good stew
       dwelling with arum lilies new
            let’s listen to frogs croaking 
                squeeze a warm hand poking
                     now that Consciousness opens up 

                             i t    a l w a y s    w  a  s
                       
                           ~~~~~~~~~

Mr Policeman

Papa’s not here
For we had hunger to fear-
He took his backpack 
And never came back.
Mama’s gone too-
Drunk she got
-nothing I could do 
The money she forgot.
School mister?
Then what about my sisters?
You come knocking,
But all you do is nodding.
You ask me for papa
But I must go make supper,
For I have four siblings 
And the money’s dribbling.
You ask my age 
But it will nothing change
Because, Mr Policeman 
You stand there with your fan
And in my tin home
You must your people phone,
For you must save the day
But I don’t get a say
Because you will eventually separate us
And say that you must 
But Mr policeman 
You don’t understand.
Little Tommy’s only got me left
For he’s completely deaf.
Sarah gets nightmares-
You don’t know our fears.
I had to steal
To cook a meal
For that day I had no work,
I had found Betty in the dirt.
Beaten and bruised,
Broken and abused.
Your uniform had her abused.
You don’t understand our struggle 
Your money provides a bubble.
And you will never understand trouble 
Or the need to fight 
While your blue lights flash bright.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Eleutheromania

His hands felt tougher than the bones
That cracked beneath his blows
He didn’t always throw these stones
At times, he brought me a rose

Suffering from the lack of compassion
My heart often ached with regrets
Causing my face to grow quite ashen
Wishing that my mind just forgets

Deep within there’s a whisper of hope
Quenching the doubts that stifle
Giving me so many good ways to cope
Longing to dissuade all that brings a trifle

Painting my soul hues of beautiful gold
Gently caressing my spirit with devotion
For getting away from this hardened cold
Where my spirit was losing it’s emotion

A hunger for liberty from this prison camp
Silenced all other reflections of insight
Leaving rivers of tears, cheeks all damp
From the sorrows of letting go, so contrite

His heart grew so cruel amid the lost dawns
Where the soft glow of summer couldn’t melt
Through the anger and resentment that cons
Hope into a place of spiteful doubts that are felt

My longing for freedom from his deep rage
Left my mind reeling with feelings of anguish
Knowing he would eventually go on a rampage
I finally left him with all the ambiguity to languish








Pick-A-Title, Vol 25 - Rhyme 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
November 13, 2020
Title Chosen: 3.) Eleutheromania
Form: Rhyme

Spring Beckoning

As the time of spring beckons 
                        

We all have this moment of clear-sightedness 
when we see we are of little importance other to the world 
and clear-eyed grasp our smallness.
We can in our tiny ways push the world forward an inch
perhaps to a fairer society where children do not die under 
the rubble of concrete.
We can do nothing to stop these people who will push
us into an Armageddon, and will they somehow think 
they can avoid the calamity when there is no one to blame.
There was a time when one could travel unmolested 
in the Arabic world, then the smell of petroleum and 
the white man came and destroyed the peace for greed.
No, not us the lesser people, we are victims too of their
hunger to dominate and enslave us in mortgages and loans
that can never be paid; so we watch and wait and when
the day of disaster comes shall I help the ruffians to my lifeboat.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.


The Shimmer Beneath

Rattled into action,
I’m no damsel in a tower.
I’m Sleeping Beauty, grown—
not rescued,
just rested.
Wrapped in gratitude,
a quiet kiss waiting.

So I crush every mistake,
every “no,”
every moment I felt less than—
they were the broth
that brined my spine,
seasoned my soul.

I do not recount sorrows
steeped in regret.
I do not carve my psyche
with clever metaphors.
I do not dance
through the dust of broken dreams.

I bask
in the brilliance buried
beneath defeat.
Not lost.
Only redemption.

I sip from the same scorched cup—
the bitterness now dulled,
the burn made warm.

I steep old wounds in truth,
brew them into wisdom.
Every ache a root
pushing me into new life.
Every silence
a seed I didn’t know I’d planted.

The knowing always strikes first—
a hush pierced by sirens,
pulse breaking in the bones,
a hunger without a name,
a reaching
for something that does not yet exist.

Even the thorns I cursed—
named after lovers
I mistook for home—
became compass needles,
pointing me back to myself.

I do not recount sorrows steeped in regret.
I do not carve my psyche with metaphors.
I do not waltz through wreckage.

I bask—
in the hush after heartbreak,
in the shimmer beneath scars,
in the beauty that bloomed
when everything broke.

Not lost.
Not ruined.
Only—
becoming.

And still,
I bask.

Freedom speaks

Things are so quiet
Letters don’t soar
No one talks at all
They try but they fail
Inaudible words excel
Forever i think that words don’t have sound
Only emotions can turn the world around 
That's what we were taught
We were taught that we shall be silenced
That words won’t break us free
That we should take actions 
We were taught to throw the first punch
Instead of using our words, we used anger
To satisfy our vengeance hunger
We weren't taught good actions from bad
We were praised for having violence 
And bad emotions targeting people
We were taught that words were flagrant and should be banned
We silenced the only people who took a good stand
We were too scared so we didn’t talk
So whenever someone used words
We were desperately shocked
Even though some who visited never knew that we could understand 
Or hear the words they used 
Words do hurt I may say
But i’d rather hear those distressing words meant to hurt
Than be silenced and have no stand
So that day I got up too
I used my words
Those thoughts I kept in for so long
I Spoke my mind forever as time will go on
-Dawn.B

Custard Apple Vendor

I look at the green crocodile balls placed in handcrafted bamboo basket
They look ripe and tempting.
The snake skinned vendor looks at me with hopeful eyes
His turtle legs skin with every vein visible is a testimony of many days of hunger
He wears a wrinkled robe of silk over them
His  brahminy blindsnake skin  glistens in sun

An amazing will power to survive despite odds keeps him going.
I know he will gladly give me a huge discount  for his meager earnings determines his dinner
Filled with pity, I buy a kilo and hand over a thousand rupee note to him
He looks at me puzzled

"I don't have change for such a big amount"
"Keep the change", I say
He flatly refuses
"I will have only what I earn
I am not a  beggar
I will get change from nearby shop"
"You give me whole basket", I respond

He displays his moony teeth
His face gleams in joy
I am reminded of full moon night

He quickly packs my fruits
offers free home delivery

I lack strength despite good food
He is strong despite hunger
I feel sad and depressed at times
He inspires life is meant for living happily with smile in face

As I walk back home
I resolve to be happy
I have no right to be sad!

06.08.2021

For Emile Pinet imagism contest
Form: Imagism

Premium Member sharing the quest

Amidst some ashen memory distilled,
Unfolded all the flowering prose of eye;
Beneath the idea of the weighted song,
Sat still the meditative poet, I.

You knew me in your quiet hours
Long befriended neath a cloak of lust;
A mouse amidst the scent of wilted flowers,
Touched and torched and writhing in the dust.

We did embrace the noble thought,
We did dare contemplate the mortal;
Did compare, complain, for naught
While viewing out the portal.

And of the hunger and the shame
Between the pain and laughter,
Sought together life to tame,
And brace ourselves for after.

Nothing known of consequence or face;
Compassion of a child, we were blind.
We linked our thought to Holiness and Grace
And stepped forth unbeguiled, our God to find.
Form: Rhyme

The Monologue of the Survivor

A piece for those trying to smile 
While walking 
The longest of miles 

(A lone voice whispers)


I have loved my life
Called it a thousand names
As I fought through pain

All its gifts are mine
They all reside deep inside

For I'm illuminated

I feel everything around and within
Even when I’m defeated
I feel sacred

I bathe in the perpetual glow
Of a glorious sun

But no matter how far I wonder
No matter how far I run

My inner sun
Holds treasures for the soul

The more I give
The more I feel whole

Although I change
Physically
Every seven years

I'm indomitable

I study the splendour of my life
I celebrate the joys and pains

For my faith
Is formidable

Stranded to rhythms and
outrageous patterns of chaos
I materialize to create my own cosmos

With
Divine symmetry

Between my powers
Of inspiration and sensation
This wild life is simply my own seance

I desire the paths I walk

The side roads
Streets and byroads

Filled with newer experiences and faces
Thrill me

I offer compassionate and benevolence
To all in need

I control the Achilles' heels
Within my world

For its fears
Are irrelevant

I celebrate in the curative power of pleasure
I satisfy my hunger within its revered well

I initiate the deep free dive
To impenetrable depths
To find my blazing strength

Flowing from my crux to create new worlds
As my guardian angels wept

Love and Laughter 
Elevate me

I hail from paradise to create my sanctuary
To pay tribute to my true spirit

For its inner beauty is beyond compare

Writing
Poetry
Singing and smiling

For
I'm an original
Simply surviving

Copyright John Duffy
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace