Long Square meal Poems
Long Square meal Poems. Below are the most popular long Square meal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Square meal poems by poem length and keyword.
I would abolish factories and end money
All would be farmers or artisans
Barter system I will introduce
In case of natural calamities,
nearby villages would have to help
I would plant lot of trees, just like primitive times
Houses would be made of mud and thatch
There would be Wells and borewel wells for water
All would be equal, no caste system
Males and females would be treated at par
Justice would be decided by community through consensus
All would have a right to participate
Pollution would end, food will be organically grown
All doing similar jobs, there would be financial equality
All would have to work to earn two square meal a day
Thefts and fraud would end automatically
Boys would come to girl's house after wedding, resolving lot of current issues
No electricity, people would sleep early
Animals would be killed only for food
All would be hard-working, healthy and happy.
This is my idea of perfect world
it makes me happy although it's imaginary
I wish it would come true
Date: 8/22/2020
Dismal tale of men and women in the dirty rail compartment
No conception of the charm being knitted by the movement
Of the necklace of gentle light in the pants shirts and blouses
All is too occupied in their struggle to notice the kind crescent
As they are returning home from their respective workplaces
Piteous story of apathy and woe all of them are absorbed in
An old lady chewing parched rice taking it from a rusted tin
In a dark corner is seated a youth with shirt all bloodstained
Suffering from tuberculosis and looking very fragile and thin
A worthless life of empty existence still wretchedly retained
Though no threshold he will come across leading him to a
Plate of rice and curry as at least one square meal a day
A hawker of playthings approaches them in a smiling face
A second vendor selling some human figures made of clay
A gloomy motion picture of life running in an unfair race
10/07/2017
Rhyme Time with 5 Poetry Contest sponsored by Laura Loo
Using the five words viz Piteous Bloodstained Threshold
Conception and Dismal
My eyes fountain
As i muster up to our nations mountain
This fact i ascertain
But no pleasures i entertained.
My eyes fountains
For the waif
My voice wails for the poor
Sleeping in cold on bare floor.
My eyes fountain
For the orphans
Whom sweat became their daily bread
whom pain becomes their dinner gown.
My eyes fountain
For the homeless
Those who are truly hopeless
Those whose time are less.
I wail for our drown economy
No more peace nor harmony
No sweet cuddles, no honey
No one to dry our tears, this is not funny.
This is my pain
Like dark ache its upon my spine
the nation is drunk with wine
In regret we now dine.
My eyes fountain
For now 3 square meal is not square
balanced diet is no longer balanced
Vitamins can no longer be gotten through our VITAL MEANS.
I give my voice in prayer
My tears i offer in supplication
Lord please let your Kingdom Come
WE PRAY LET IT COME, LET IT COME.
Grandpa said, “You work hard all day
to do to yourself some good....
what you think as priory in your pay
is a well deserved dish of good food!”
For the less fortunate; one square meal
and for the well off; another day of feast!
In diet classes: "It’s not a big deal
to decline favorites to have fat decreased!"
At home: A well garnished pizza “extra cheese”
and a generous chunk of ‘Black Forest cake’ to follow.
All to be flushed in with wine, sweet and chilled, please.
I can't help it; my stomach is an ever growing hollow!
So, "Do what I say but don't do what I do.";
Rational on duty but mad for a ‘biryani”, spicy and hot!
Strong to my audience, but weak with a pint of home brew.
"Excuse me, for the extra sugar, can’t resist my cooking pot!"
28/06/16
18/02/17 Revisited for contest Just a little bit of sugar by Debbie Guzzi
Note: sugar in simple and complex forms constitute nearly all foods, which is calculated as calorie intake per day.
An impotent soul wrapped with a police seal
Married a merchant and stopped bearing Jill
everyone must care, that’s how it feels
traps of superiority placed like banana pills
mutual respect losing every match five-to-nil
demanding the showering of majestic praises so unreal
that are schemed and manufactured from a rusted mill
to cover a void that can never be filled.
Confidence owns worth for self-respect and exaggeration to steal
me, myself and I, makeup the three-square-meal
ego prioritized, a major condition in every deal
insisting that the screws are not as important as the wheel.
It is always said that blessed are they who climb the hill
but they look down the foot of the mountain to see ants worthy of a kill
despite the accolades, undermining others is their zeal
loud on the success, louder on the associated vigils
winning comes with feathers, before eating the meat, you must peel
or else, there will be a heavy mention on destruction’s will.
Grandpa said you work hard all day
to do to yourself some good....
So, what you think as priory in your pay,
is a well deserved dish of good food!
For the less fortunate; one square meal.
And for the well off; another day's feast!
In diet classes, I say it’s not a big deal
to decline your favorites to have fat decreased!
At home, I sit with a well garnished pizza “extra cheese”.
a large chunk of ‘Black Forest cake’ to follow
and a glass of wine, selected and chilled, please.
I can't help, my stomach is an ever growing hollow!
So, do what I say but don't do what I do.
Rational on duty but mad for a ‘biryani”, spicy and hot!
Strong to my audience, but weak with a pint of home brew.
Excuse me, friends, I can’t resist much my cooking pot!
28/06/16
Honorable mention for contest I love food by Lewis Raynes (29/06/16)
The world hurtles on unmindful
Leaving behind those who cannot keep pace
So many are under constant grind
To earn a square meal a day
On deserted streets many roam
Their stomachs empty, their bowels growling
They have nothing to rejoice, only to grieve
For them, joy is an unknown flavor
They too are rightful heirs to Nature’s bounty
Yet fate decrees for them a dismal course!
They are smothered under poverty’s bleak embrace
Over their ashen sky, dark clouds gather round
In dingy make shift dwellings,
Many cram together under tin sheets,
Braving the sun and the inclement weather
Wallowing in dirt and filth with flies for company
They see the stars luminous through cracked roofs
And weave dreams of better times
But soon their dreams go crashing down
Sinking in the knowledge that life is brutally unfair
The callously unfeeling men strut past them
Deaf to their ballads of sad refrain
And their unheard moans die down
In the alleys where darkness strangulates light!
(Their fate often sparks embers of pain in me)
Jan. 17. 2022
Your Choice Again Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Brian Strand
I opened my heart
Where lies my brook?
Where are thou my Raven?
Our land is in FAMINE
Almost like that of the Israelites
I cried with millions
Wept for an ailing nation
Tubers of yam makes us yawn
Tomatoes puts us all in comatose
Bag of rice in crises
Garri soaking becomes a trend
I longed
I craved
For my Raven's miracle
I opened my heart again
Where lies my brook?
Where are thou my Raven
Raven miracle I seek
Elijah was treated to a royalty by Raven
Fetching him balance diet daily even in famine
He then drinks in a special brooks
Why not me God!!! I want my Raven miracle
Raven!!! Elijah's Raven
Raven !!! My own Raven
The creature with a shiny black feathers
Weird, mythical ...scary yet emit miracle
Smart, evil in disguise ... smells dark omen
Yet fetched Elijah three square meal
Largest in the crow family of birds
I opened again but not my heart
This time it is my mouth of hunger
Where lies my brook?
Where are thou my Raven?
Raven miracle I seek
My voice became stronger for Him to hear
He is my shepherd I shall not want
Even as young lions lack
And suffers hunger in anger
I shouted" I shall not want"
I receive by faith the word
And I started chewing
Pretending to be an Elijah
Behold, food was on my table
I found myself devouring chicken in full
On a table full of varieties of food to maw
But no one else was eating
They all looked hungry and fagged out
I got a disdainful eyeing...
I heard them hissing profusely
Yes, it was like that table prepared before David
The same table God prepared before his enemy
I got their message
They weren't my friends
But there was more to go round
Why become selfish ...greedy
I beckoned to them without uttering a word
They swamped on me ... on the food
Then, someone tapped me on a long chair
Those bed-bug infested chairs ...
" Brother Stephen... why are you snoring?
We are through with the service
Remember that fasting continues tomorrow
And bring along your Prophet offerings
The Lord be with you"
The white-bearded man bid me bye
My mouth was still ajar
Finding expression for my thought
Alayande Stephen T.
21st, August, 2016
A Story from the Sunday Service
I’m on my way into the grocery store
when I see him huddled near the shop doorway
In his outstretched hand
an empty coffee cup
I throw in a coin or two
smile, and ask his name
I’m Jack ma’am’ he says politely; and this is Benji ...
it’s only then that I notice a small brown terrier
his black nose poking out
from underneath a stained sleeping bag
Benji leaps up and wags his tail excitedly
at the mention of his name
I stoop down and he nuzzles my hand
I’ve a lump in my throat as I tell Jack
Benji reminds me of my dog Sam
who I lost last summer
Oh, how I miss the comfort of my pet
Jack’s blue eyes fill with tears
it's then I discover
he’s been on the streets for a few months
Benji’s my only true friend, he says
He’s never let me down -
not like my folks back at home
I can see Benji is well cared for
the exact opposite of Jack
who looks like he’s not eaten a square meal in days
I rise to do my shopping
and pass them both on the way out
I drop a brown carrier bag into Jack’s lap
he opens it like it’s Christmas Day
Inside are several pouches of dog food
and some substantial sandwiches
It is but a small gift,
yet I can see it means the world to him
he reaches up and touches my hand
I’m sorry son,
I wish I could do more to help
but I only have a small widow’s pension
I walk away,
knowing how fortunate I am
"This is no life, just a way of surviving another day"
I’ve had ups and downs in my life, but ...
“I've never been where they've been”
Writing Challenge 2, November - A Poem Meaningful - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Written on 10/7/19