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Hungry Children
Everyday children around the world are starving,
Children has to go without food,
When their parents don't have the money to feed them,
All over the world, there are times,
When all children have went to bed without anything to eat.
Children die every single day,
Because they don't have,
Enough money to feed themselves.
Food should be free to low-income families,
So that the people who can't afford to feed their children can feed them,
Without having to worry that their children or themselves will die,
If food is free to these people,
We will have children for our next gernation.
poem by Bethany Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Psychos On The Pipe
We don’t sell our bodies to the highest
Or only bidder to feed children
We don’t feed the children
We feed our need
Whatever that may be
Our need for love
Our need for desire
Our need for the poison in our veins
We feed our children to the abuse of strangers
that institutionalized reform of the intellect
to score crystallized rock
to score refined gold
which we wear around our ego
in display of our grandeur and scheming
until we can shoot it through our barrels
to fill the empty of our souls
©2006 All rights reserved
poem by Khristian E. Kay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Did hogs feed here or did Lithuanians have a feast here?
Slop They Dropped
Move from a tainting of a game maintained,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
With a mopping up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.
To mop up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.
Move from a tainting of a game maintained,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
With a mopping up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.
Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
With a hoping that in time they will be erased.
And unhappiness appearing on faces now chased.
Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
With a hoping that in time they will be erased.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
It's too late to move from a tainting game,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
'Cause the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
It's too late to move from a tainting game
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
'Cause the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.
Tainting people's names to sustain a gain,
Has other people mopping up the slop they dropped.
Tainting people's names to sustain a gain,
Has other people mopping up the slop they dropped.
Tainting people's names to sustain a gain,
Has other people mopping up the slop they dropped.
Other people now mopping up a slop.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
But there's no hope in time they will be erased.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
But there's no hope in time they will be erased.
Slop they dropped.
Slop they dropped.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gestapo
You had life so easy...
You thought you were the chips and cheese.
And you mocked,
Those who were not!
You thought it a breeze,
To do just what you pleased.
And you shopped...
'Til you dropped.
You stole what you had,
And you thought it would never stop.
When you thought your life was threatened...
You would call the cops.
Now that things have turned around...
A mess is all you've got,
To show.
And you know...
Your back's broke.
A gestapo is on the march.
Soon to knock on your door...
With a broom and mop.
To clean up your slop!
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
And the ones who sit on stoops...
Will be grouped,
And pooped from pushing.
'Lock step! Mops! Push! '
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
You had life so easy...
You thought you were the chips and cheese.
And you mocked,
Those who were not!
But...
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
'Lock step! Mops! Push! '
A gestapo is on the march.
Issuing brooms and mops.
To clean up the slop!
Believe it or not!
And the ones who sit on stoops...
Will be grouped!
And pooped,
From pushing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crack in their bottles
CRACK IN THEIR BOTTLES
Go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
fill up their heads with useless lies
start when they're young
tell them aloud, 'everyone is equal, unique in their own way'
whisper quietly insults full of hate.
go ahead, fill up their heads with these lies
Go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
feed them pills with their juice
tell them aloud, 'these will calm you down.'
whisper quietly, 'so I don’t have to deal with you'
Go ahead, fill up their heads with these useless lies
then wonder where you went wrong.
Go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
fill up their heads with useless lies
tell them, it doesn’t matter how they look
but slip them diet pills behind their back
go ahead, fill up their heads with these useless lies
then wonder why they are depressed.
Go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
fill up their heads with useless lies
tell them aloud you love them no matter what they do
whisper quietly that you never wanted them
go ahead, fill up their heads with these useless lies
then wonder what you did wrong.
So go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
fill up their heads with useless lies
but I’ll sit back and wonder why
what’s so wrong with the truth?
I’ll feed your children love in their bottles
tell them they're special everyday
show them I mean it with a hug and a kiss
and try to fix what you’ve done wrong
I’ll feed your children laughter in their bottles
tell them aloud 'everyone’s unique'
and whisper quietly the exact same thing
I’ll go ahead and feed your children the truth
trying to undo what you have done.
I'll feed your children confidence in their bottles
tell them aloud how special they are
hug them when they act their worst
and whisper quietly that they're the best
so go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
and fill up their heads with useless lies
I’ll sit back and try my hardest
to undo everything that you do.
poem by Liz Colavecchio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lydia Puckett
Knowlt Hoheimer ran away to the war
The day before Curl Trenary
Swore out a warrant through Justice Arnett
For stealing hogs.
But that's not the reason he turned a soldier.
He caught me running with Lucius Atherton.
We quarreled and I told him never again
To cross my path.
Then he stole the hogs and went to the war --
Back of every soldier is a woman.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old School Memories
I guess we all have old memories
Way back when we were in school
We tried our best to get passing grades
To prove to our folks we weren’t a fool
Remember those old-fashion desks?
There was an ink well right at the top
Some boys didn’t last too long at school
For they stayed home to pick the crops
Long walks home right after school
The stack of books made a heavy load
Kicking rocks but hurrying along
Down that dusty red dirt road
After all, there were always chores to do
Once a kid got back home
Gather the eggs and slop the hogs
Didn’t have a lot of time to roam
Yep, those were good old days, my friend
Nowadays seems school is a breeze
But it sure is fun to look behind us
To the wonderful old school memories!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Push Push and Pop It
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Leaving specs and pieces left,
To kick and knock your 'ouch' about!
To needle and pick!
You gotta stop it.
To needle and pick!
You gotta stop it.
To needle and pick!
You gotta stop it.
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin'
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Leaving specs and pieces left,
To kick and knock your 'ouch' about!
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Leaving specs and pieces left,
To kick and knock your 'ouch' about!
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin'
You can refuse to feel remorse or guilt.
And let forgiveness handle it!
No need to flip your lid or top.
Learn to love yourself a lot.
If this is not done...
How can you expect others to start.
You don't have to play a part...
Of that panic brewing in your heart!
Denying it is there.
Just...
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin'
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin
Push push and pop it!
Don't even try to stop it.
Just...
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin'
Puuussshhh! Keep pushin
Push push and pop it!
Don't even try to stop it.
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Push push and pop it!
Don't keep it bottled up!
Or you will dropp like slop to mop.
Push push and pop it!
Push push and pop it!
Push push and pop it!
Push push and pop it!
Inspired and Dedicated:
To all my Hip-Hop lovers and friends,
Of the mooovement!
Peace Up!
L
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Know
Water thin
The wall is in
Shes chlorine clean and portion fed
Feed the dog
Slop the hog
Shine the baptist and debark the log
Its all right, I know
Youre the only one who can
Show us at all
Get it done
Circulate
What I hear, fear motivates
So intense
So sensitive
In your head where fashion lives
Its all right, I know
Youre the only one who can
Show us at all
Its ok, I know
Youre mean and hard and bored
Its always something
song performed by by Helmet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sacrifice
She worked from morning 'til the sun went down
and never did complain.
She earned some money but not enough.
It became her private pain.
How do you feed four children
and keep your bills all paid?
You beg, you steal, you borrow
and your life you trade.
For to watch your children slowly starve
and know they'll be taken away
fills you with dread and so instead
you get down on your knees and pray.
And when that doesn't seem to work
you do unreasonable things.
You sell your body and your soul
to the rich and mighty kings.
You close your eyes and try to forget
what it is you do.
You accept the shame and all the blame
and feed them heartbreak stew.
There is no right. There is no wrong.
There are just four kids to feed.
You work all night 'til the sun comes up
and buy the food they need.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A mother can more easily feed seven children than seven children can feed one mother.
One father can feed seven children, but seven children cannot feed one father.
Thawed Out Meat Left to Sit
I've got to jump out of this box,
And detox.
Without stopping!
As I dropp those things I like a lot!
To explore something new.
That for me would be eye popping.
I've got to jump out of this box,
And detox.
From a groping overdose,
I've allowed to turn to slop!
Comfort zones I must leave alone.
With values condoned...
Rusting into a dust.
I must seek out what I have not!
I must have forgotten...
Thawed out meat left to sit,
Can become rancid.
Offensive!
Leaving a taste on tongues,
Not accustomed to what is decisively rotten!
I've got to jump out of this box.
And detox.
From a groping overdose,
I've allowed to turn to slop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Burrowed Troughs
They came to share...
Not invade another's space.
With a nothingness but faith,
They brought.
They were laughed at and disgraced.
Opportunity was all they sought.
Not to thumb their noses.
Or expose smirks set upon their faces.
Speaking in languages mocked and degraded.
In time they created their own separate rules.
Leaving behind those who treated them rude and cruel.
Now they are the ones with shoulders of frost.
Passing those who still laugh in sadness.
As they watch them line up in masses...
To eat slop they feed from burrowed troughs!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Devil's Night
a lust for blood a horrors night
a longing for the taste of innocent
flesh demons come out to play
when the nights hour is none
let the rest less rise and roam
through the streets of the living
let all awake hear the screams
as blood stains the nights streets
reward the wicked with a personal
lick of the tongue down the neck
as the blood filled vains pop in your
mouth feel alive again as your thrist
for blood is lifted
feed my children feed rip the life out of
the living let all your my children feed
allow the living to fear when the nights
none let only the wandering souls of the
dead roam these streets
cause tonight we feed like
kings on to the flesh of the living
let all a sleep awake to the horried streets
an when the nights bright let the
shattered memories of former friends
mothers, children, father be seen in a pool
of there own blood as we rest to return again
when the clock strights 3am and the night
becomes none =] hahaha until tomorrow my pretties
until tomorrow
poem by Robert Roberts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hate
You build me up and then you break me down and build me again
Emotions weaken
My blood is filled with lust knowing someone is wanting to kill me
We all go someday
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your...
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
There must be someway I can better my health to save me
From all the bad things that feel so good
You must be joking, you dont even know a thing about it
It's what you understood
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your...
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your...
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Feed It Good
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes.
And,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
I'm not gonna mock you anymore,
'Cause you're good to me.
You don't have to knock,
On that unlocked door.
No more...
I'll rock your needs
When we get it heated! .
Now,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Just feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Don't shout or scream,
To be mean and demean.
I'm not your enemy.
Nor do I owe a thing....
To ya!
You can pout with a frown,
Thinking it will bring me down.
To be around...
For your clown count!
To the ground.
But,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Just,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
And,
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man is the deadly pest
Viruses feed on man;
Fungi feed on man;
Worms and flies feed on
Those that man feed on.
He calls them all pests.
Isn’t he a major pest
To the animals and plants?
28.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Raining Shoes
coming
from
an advance
on raining
cats
on raining
dogs
to raining
shoes
really
reality
check
is not
my thing
right?
let it
rain
manna
from
heaven
to feed
children
starving
to feed
parents
children
dying
now
today
of
poverty
starvation
indifference
empires
oil wars
let it
rain
clothes
shoes
to clothe
naked bodies
skeletal bones
suffering souls
let it
rain
let it
rain
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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