Undernourished Poems | Examples

A Heart Beats

Behind the mayhem and drama

Beat a sweet loving heart

A childlike playful heart

A heart lacking in self love and worth 

An isolated troubled heart

A self inflicted undernourished heart

A heart that stopped beating at the age of thirty eight

A heart that should still be beating

An anorexic heart

in a funk

wilting in the setting sun
dissolving deflating
undernourished underfed
neglected rejected

unknown
a mystery
if any degree of pampering
can bring me back to life



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Haven

his lean equine face with dust-brown eyes
defines hardship
a gaunt frame
undernourished 
he squats on city pavement 
there in the crook of his neck and shoulder
                                     a white bird
                                     cradled, stroked
                                     cooing

"I bought the dove with my can money when the pet store
closed." 
he shakes his can of coins at me like keys jingling 
                                                            at locked doors
a delicate coarseness
this vagabond
human haven
for a white dove
something sacred
that's he's obliged to care for
that spikes sustainable

refractive light at how we view others
cut by luck decomposing
as sunlight squeezes into city hatchways
                                       into stories we don't own
                                       into a soiled world that sometimes
                                       falls away like hands from a piano



Poem composed July 3, 2023

In the Forgotten Places

Another hungry, homeless child will die
Parents have no job, no food, no insurance
Undernourished pregnant woman cry,
The Feds give only lip-service assurance.

Most people think it can’t happen here
That welfare supports these pitiful cases,
But, folks, I tell you many live daily in fear
Here in America … in the forgotten places.

In the backwoods no hospitals even exist
Medical help is a long-drive-by-car away,
If they don’t show up, they’re off the list
Forgotten until a tragedy comes their way.

We think everyone has it as easy as we do
Taking little notice of those in abject poverty
Seldom worrying about making it through,
Neglecting to think about life’s other reality. 

Written August 12, 2022
POEM OF THE DAY
Poetry Soup
August 13, 2022

#52 on Best New Poems List
Poetry Soup
October 1, 2022

Words

Words have meaning not only in their definition but also in their sound. A writer is or may be drawn to a word because its very sound makes a statement about its meaning. I write…and read…as much for the way words sound as for the ideas they espouse.

Words have shapes,
Each shape crafted from elements
Of the immeasurable power of the alphabet.
Each letter has meaning within its sound;
Each word is a compacted spell.
How undernourished speech is.
Words are timeless,
They never exit genesis.

City

The zealously guarded
Verdant pasture of
The city club
Attract like filings
To a magnet
A herd of undernourished
Hungry city buffaloes
Just as their slavering lips
Pull at the first mouthfuls
Of succulent green grass
The watchman and his
Trio of pie dogs
Barking in token defiance
Arrive hotfoot on the scene
Disconsolate the buffaloes
Gray shapes in the evening gloom
Wend their way out
Pausing to half heartedly
Pick up strewn paper
Throwing wistful backward
Glances at the sweet grass.

The Solemn Rose

In the breathing forest came memories of my youth,
Nothing more than happiness shadowed by the truth.
The rising sun pulchritudinous like the smile on her face,
Let me think of her once more of pure and simple grace. 

    In the center of the wood lived a solemn rose,
    Surrounded by a cruel weed which prohibited it to grow.
    The weed was not considerate only thinking of itself,
    Hurt the little rose not caring of how it felt. 

    Now the rose has grown up and overtowers the weed,
    Making it undernourished and causing it to bleed.
    Through tolerance and patience the rose has been well fed,
    And for the spiteful weed, he gained a brand new bed.

Glancing to the falling moon, I've realized what I've done,
I've killed my inner self by following the sun.
I only hope that things will change far before the end,
So that the enemy I have gained will turn to be my friend.

1989

Seventh Place
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 15 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney

Third Place
YOUR PERSONAL FAVORITE, NO. 2
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS

And God Gave the Man a Dog

When Adam first did fall from grace,
Something died within him.
His soul became weak and frail,
Undernourished and thin.

And God looked down upon the man,
Said 'He's lost something special.'
He'll have to learn all over again,
To feel on the same level.

He must needs have a teacher,
To live close by his side.
To teach him by example,
And be a friend and guide;

For he's forgotten how to love,
Forgotten how to care,
For any save his own sweet self,
Of this he will not share.

I gave to him a woman,
But she's as bad as he,
T'was she who caused his downfall,
When she led him to that tree.

He needs to learn self sacrifice,
And how to care for others,
To have a sense of duty toward,
His sisters sand his brothers.

It must be someone special,
For such memories to jog.
I know who I'll send him,
I'll send to him the dog.

A Rose That Won'T Grow

As A Rose That Never Grows.
.
A single drop in a vast deep ocean
The furthest star in the night sky
As lonely as a rejected leper 
So am I
.
As a flower that never blooms
Undernourished without  love not care
Living in limbo
With no one to share
.
For I no less than an orphan
Umbilical chord severed from the world
My world a dark  barren desert
My will ignored and upheld
.
Cursed to wander as a ghostly spirit
The chains that bind me
Under lock and key
Only true love can release
And cause my agony and pain
To cease.
.
For I live a living death
Feel less than human
All I know is pain
Soon I will be gone 
But not missed
But hope to rise again
And be loved
As I should.



Peter Dome©2020.

Rose In the Snow

A Rose in The Snow.
.
Deep within a forest blanketed by snow
A place yet unknown
And no one ventures or goes
Grows and clings on to life
The once most beautiful fragrant delicate rose
So sweet its heart
But fragile its petals and folds
Stretches to the sun
Stung by a bee
Overshadowed by towering  thickets of trees
.
 Without love or tender care
The rose never fully flourished
Bedraggled pitifully 
Neglected and undernourished
.
Gradually it withers away
Its petals fall to the snow
And a gust blows it astray
Never to see
Another day
.
What makes this rose so precious and special
Is because it is rare
And with so much love 
And affection to share
The last rose to ever grow.
Now nothing
Buried in snow.
.
Peter Dome©2020.

Up To Me

Up to Me


We are virtually interconnected
Yet socially disconnect to our demise
Modernity rewards ignorance
The ignorant condemn the wise

We’re a society addicted to addictions
Hungry for knowledge that’s void of proof
Confirmation bias is perplexing and pervasive
Paradoxically – leaving us disinterested in The Truth

We are over fed yet starving for nourishment
We’re uncertain full of absolutes and certainties
Content - yet unhappy with our status
No one can help us - only you can set you free

We express our humility through patronizing arrogance
We want change, but don’t want to change anything
We seek perpetual self-satisfaction
Only to suffer incessant pain 

We give the perception of fame and fortune
Ironically longing for self-worth and prestige
The emptiness of self-admiration
Unaware – you hold your key

Embody the dreams of your passions
The passions will live in your dreams
Life is simply all that we make it
That’s it – 
This life – is up to me

Wasting Food

I hate to see a plate of wasted food
uneaten stuff thrown callously away
no care for hunger and starving lot
delicious delicacies left to decay.

An ocean of undernourished children
skinny bones, wait for a morsel of toast.
Scrapping leftovers in  drains and bins,
Superpowers or frankenstein ghosts?

I hate to see a plate of wasted food,
My only appeal, is this what we  should? 




29th May 2019
Sponsor	Kevin Shaw
Contest Name: It really gets me going

A Beggar

His mismatched clothes hung upon his gaunt frame,
resembling a scarecrow, lean and haggard.
He begged from the shadows to hide his shame,
undernourished, he stumbled and staggered.

With a toothless grin contorting his face,
he'd sit with his skeletal hand outstretched.
He appeared repulsive and out of place;
his claim to be a father seemed far-fetched.

His misery drew not a single tear,
only your scorn, mockery, and laughter.
You took the time to make it crystal clear;
that the homeless aren't worth looking after.

What will be your excuse come judgment day
when Jesus asks; what made you act that way?

Sounds of a Day - For Contest

Hungry cry of waking baby				
challenging the staccato				
of small arms fire.
School bus honking
over the droning hum
of I-phone ear-buds.
Wood fire banked against
searing desert winds
rattling glassless windows.
Pop tart in microwaves,
nutritional nuance
of the overfed
undernourished.
Dogs barking in the distance,
squeaking well wheels
bare feet padding
to distant comfort.
Beeping, one eyed tyrants,
demanding attention
“whatuwearin’”,
Rooster’s inane need
to alert everyone
“SUN’S UP! – SUN’S UP!”
Children squabbling
over much – or little.
Pots and pans and decisions,
“who likes what” vs
“who needs it more”.
Mother’s spreading love
on fragile hearts,
singing songs
long forgotten
by the fathers.
Prayers said
in the hope
of golden morrows
tears shed
in the depth
of poverty’s sorrows.
The cry of a waking baby,
 the hungry sound of an empty tin,
choking angry words:
“Please sir, could you help, again”.
Sounds of a day
blowing across a hardened consciousness
aching to be heard.

6/18/2016

submitted to – Sounds of the Day – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Nayda Ivette Negron

And God Gave Him a Dog

When Adam first did fall from grace,
Something died within him.
His very soul was weak and frail,
Undernourished, thin;

And God looked down upon the man,
Said,"He's lost something special.
He'll have to learn all over again,
To feel on the same level.

He must needs have a teacher,
To live close by his side,
To teach him by example,
And be his friend and guide.

He must have great courage,
And patience unsurpassed,
For his will be a thankless job;
He'll be considered last.

I gave to him a woman,
But she's as bad as he.
'Twas she who was the first to fall,
And led him to that tree.

Who has a heart so filled with love,
Forgives time and again?
Who humbly suffers every wrong,
Yet still will kiss your hand?

The man now seems to have gone blind,
His mind seems in a fog.
Who will guide him back to me?
I know, I'll send the dog."

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