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Invisible Children

Invisible Children

Their mothers can see them, but to us they’re invisible
These fate-cursed little creatures with long lashed, limpid eyes
In the poor part of town where hunger is permissible
Empty cupboards are opened with sad, hopeless sighs

Yes, we glimpse them occasionally, when famine strikes other nations
We see them on TV, broadcast from strange sounding lands
Hunger’s a democratic denizen, sparing no child it’s sensations
And welcomes our own crying children into it’s cold callous hands

Submission into malnutrition is the chronic condition
These hidden, unseen children must confront every day
Sentenced by hunger to a living perdition
On their mom’s leaden heart, these cruel conditions heavily weigh

While most of us worry about our kids overeating
About high fructose content, roughage and such
These kids, with ribs like infantile armatures, arms outstretched and pleading
remain unseen, out of sight, and unknown to our touch

Behind paint peeling doors, stoically enduring the horror of hunger
Cloaked in invisibility by the fickle fate of being poor
Conditions which no innocent, wide-eyed waif should live under
Scant noticed innocents, yet they’re out there for sure.

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Die: Malnutrition

Think of the children that die each year, each minute, every couple of seconds, and think of how lucky you are. Please, spread the word of this poem, help me educate people about malnutrition's effect! ! !

Lying awake,
A yound child cries,
Her stomach is empty,
She'll probably die,

Could you have guessed,
That every 3.6 seconds,
A person dies,
From malnutrition and hunger,

One out of eight children,
Go to bed hungry each night,
Aged under twelve,
They soon lose the fight,

One-hundred-and-sixty million,
Children, years five and under,
Are malnurished,
And filled with hunger,

Fiften million children,
Die of hunger each year,
Their parents dead,
Or filled with tears,

Many of us worry,
About such trivial things,
Think of those children,
And what their fate is,

Please don't waste food,
And think of how lucky we are,
That we are all fed,
And not dead from malnutrition each year.

poem by Kelly Aragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Identity

the only identity i have
that will remain...
is in the eyes... of small
children, hungry and orphaned,
their families lost
to wars, earthquakes, floods,
disease, poverty...
children of different colors,
nationalities, faiths...
children without names.

i am their father, their mother,
their sister, their brother...
i am the answer to their hunger,
i am its cause.
i am their hunger!
i have no name.

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Of The Moon

(lead vocal - david paton)
Pay no attention to the writing on the wall
The words seem empty cause theres nothing there at all
We let the wise men beat the drums too soon
We were just children of the moon
No one to turn to
Nowhere to run to even if we could
Too late to save us but try to understand
The seas were empty there was hunger in the land
We let the blind man lead the way too long
Easy to see where we went wrong
Nothing to live for
Nothing to die for
Were lost in the middle of a hopeless world
Lost in the middle of a hopeless world
Children children of the moon watch the world go by
Children children of the moon are hiding from the sun and the sky
Children children of the moon watch it all go by
Children children of the moon are blinded by the light in their eyes
No one to turn to
Nowhere to run to even if we could
Follow the pilgrim to the temple of the dawn
The altars empty and the sacrifice is gone
We let the madmen write the golden rules
We were no more than mortal fools
Nothing to live for
Nothing to die for
Were lost in the middel of a hopeless world
Lost in the middle of a hopeless world
Children children of the moon watch the world go by
Children children of the moon hiding from the sky

song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hunger Hunger To Worship

hunger hunger building up in heart
hunger hunger mounting building up in soul
hunger need hunger grows grows needs to be sated
hunger need hunger need to worship to worship God
hunger ache pain growing need to rush run to God
to rush back to God’s arms as we met in gift creativity
our souls are out back out upon swift flowing healing water
we are together carried over all all lighter darker ink water
we are together giving always giving love throughout time
hunger hunger to love worship universe creator our God

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Born With The Hunger

Hear the coyote howl
He's found his pray at last
In one moment of weakness
The chase is over so fast
He celebrates his kill
No mercy in his eyes
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
Midnight is on the prowl
And I hear it call my name
Danger lurks in the shadows
But it's all part of a game
Until I quench this thirst
I will not close these eyes
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
You and I, we're the same
We both carry this flame
To depths of our souls
Once the fever awakes
We can never escape
It's beyond our control
We're both born with the hunger
Oh with the hunger
Temptation bites your lip
One kiss ignites the fire
So begins the seduction
As we succumb to desire
Your body aches for more
Why are you so surprised
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger - it never dies
Never dies
When you're born with the hunger It never dies
When you're born with the hunger Oh, it never dies
He celebrates the kill
You're born with the hunger
It never dies

song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wanting, not the want is the cause.

Hunger for porridge, hunger for desserts,
Or hunger for wine makes one steal.
Hunger for shelter, hunger for power,
Or hunger for sex makes one steal.
Hunger dies not. So is the stealing.
19.04.2001, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The hunger

the hunger thinks the rice
can chew both skin and bone
the hunger thinks it's nice
to eat although forlorn

the hunger thinks the corn
can swallow ears and eyes
deaf blind hunger born
self eaten within it dies

the hunger thinks the food
is just a body's unfair breath
the hunger knows the interlude
no food the body eats itself

the hunger thinks the body rotten
is just a place to survive and eat
the hunger of the lost and forgotten
makes its way to the last heart beat

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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My Heart Bleeds (98)

I fancy I can hear the sufferers moaning
The starving woman and the dying man
The malnourished children with the hunger blown pot bellies
My heart bleeds for the people of Sudan.

But these people they need far more than sympathy
They need food and care and medicine right away
They have eaten the seeds that they had to be planted
And hundreds die of hunger every day.

For life's small blessings I ought to be thankful
For I am one who doesn't have cause for moan
Compared to many I feel very privileged
The pangs of hunger I have never known.

One of my neighbours never stops complaining
He grumbles by life he is hard done by
But he looks overweight from over eating
And of malnutrition he will never die.

And another I know he tried to take his own life
Because his girlfriend left him he is in despair
I feel more pity for those dying of hunger
For a broken heart is not beyond repair.

In a Land ravaged by disease drought and hunger
To live to thirty years seen as a lengthy span
And my sympathy is with the starving millions
The hungry and the homeless of Sudan.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I am not hungry

I am not hungry
Hunger is not mine
I am free from hunger.
Hunger is a butterfly
Come to it and welcome it
Wonderland you reach
Without hunger
You could not move an inch
And how you changed yourself
Hunger will tell
Wait a minute.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Hungry

I hunger
lying on my bed
in the shaded dark.

I hunger for you,
my stomach
wrenching
and I verge
on crying
the need so intense.

I roll
sideways
in the bed,
I flail
my arms
lift and slam them down
by my side
as I try to pound
that hunger away.

I hunger for you.

I need.

I walk to the bathroom
and peer at the face
to see what need looks like.

It is gaunt.

It is sleepy eyed.

it is unflattering.

I whirl away;
can't look.
and I sit
down
head in hand;
can't go back to bed
and can't continue to just sit.

I'm already back in the room
my hand on the phone.

It rings.

I say
'Oh nothing
I was just thinking about you.'

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Poor Children Of Iraq

They've never harmed anybody so why are they under attack
Born in the wrong Land at the wrong time the poor children of Iraq
For the crimes of other people why must they be made to pay
They are the innocent victims and why do it have to be this way?
Poor children are made to suffer pawns of a deadly war game
Left to live with horrific injuries this is to all of our shame
They have been robbed of a future war is so very unfair
Damage done to the minds of children in war zones time will not even repair,
Innocent Iraqi war children they deserve better than this
Why deprive them of a future rob them of any chance of happiness
Mothers weep for their dead and injured children war is a terrible thing
Though ballads of famous war victories the balladeers well may sing
But who will sing of the innocent war victims of every bombing and terrorist attack
Like the poor children living in war zones the innocent kids of Iraq.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Misery

children all over the world in poverty, hunger and misery.
is this the way it's supposed to be?
is this the reason they were brought into this world?
is this what you want to see for your little boy and girl
as adults can't we see-we have to stop this hunger and misery.
god has given us the power to concieve
so let us set our children free.
free of what we have created-poverty, hunger and hatred.
let us work to become as one
let our children see the sun
for right now their world is in a dark mist
with not a flicker of light to be found.
their hopes torn to the ground..
there has to be a place to start.
search your heart-search your mind
the answer is within our grasp
it is something that has to last.

poem by Louis Rams
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We have suffered unnumbered ills and crimes in the name of the Law of the Land. Our men, women, and children have suffered not only the basic brutality of stoop labor, and the most obvious injustices of the
system; they have also suffered the desperation of knowing that the system caters to the greed of callous men and not to our needs. Now we will suffer for the purpose of ending the poverty, the misery, and the injustice, with the hope that our children will not be exploited as we have been. They have imposed hunger on us, and now we hunger for justice. We draw our strength from the very despair in which we have been forced to live. We shall endure.

quote by Cesar Chavez
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Poverty

I saw an old cottage of clay,
And only of mud was the floor;
It was all falling into decay,
And the snow drifted in at the door.

Yet there a poor family dwelt,
In a hovel so dismal and rude;
And though gnawing hunger they felt,
They had not a morsel of food.

The children were crying for bread,
And to their poor mother they’d run;
‘Oh, give us some breakfast,’ they said,
Alas! their poor mother had none.

She viewed them with looks of despair,
She said (and I’m sure it was true),
‘’Tis not for myself that I care,
But, my poor little children, for you.’

O then, let the wealthy and gay
But see such a hovel as this,
That in a poor cottage of clay
They may know what true misery is.
And what I may have to bestow
I never will squander away,
While many poor people I know
Around me are wretched as they.

poem by Jane Taylor
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Humanity Have Got Lost

Mosques are ruined
Churches destroyed
Castles, thousands and thousands years lasting a huge culture ruined destroyed Ah for the sake of human being greed
Alas for what are all these harmful deeds
When the humanity will find a little bit peace
As long as within hearts the brutality for the sake of stillness will survive
As long as the insensibly of human being will allow him to harm his fellow man for a bit of bread
As long as the pities are frozen to kill innocent children
Ah those innocent kids their hunger and their poor tears never will find an end
Ah those bloody tears of poor mothers when will find an end
Alas my fellow man as long as you don't have a pity
As long as the brutally of your heart allows you to kill your fellow man
The peace is lost
Alas humanity have got lost.

poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Migration

Distant hands in foreign lands
Are turning hidden wheels
Causing things to come about
Which no one seems to feel
All invisible from where we stand
The connections come to pass
And though too strange to comprehend
They affect us nonetheless, yes
Once again a time of change
O the change makes music
And the children will dance
See the pieces of the picture rearrange themselves
It feels just like a symphony to me,
With nothing left to chance
Just look over your shoulder
Its out of you hands
Its over for now
Leave behind what you can
You can always return
The rhythm remains unbroken
Unspoken but loud and clear
Its a slow vibration. migration
Mystery muse, how I hunger for an answer
Unsung song, how I long to play the changes
Hidden rhythm, havent I always been your dancer
Sacred secrets of the meaning to my dreaming. migration

song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Still Life

O Children of my poor country!
Children with scattered traits of faces!
Children innocent since beginning!
Children sweeter than the ripe fruits!
Whenever I munch an entire loaf,
Your deficient bodies,
Undreamt dreams and callous world,
Make me shed tears of blood;
Trouble me from the core of my heart,
And envenom my each victual.

Alas! I could entrust to your delicate hands,
Such a quill which could write,
Sharper than a dagger,
And intents of the brutal could break
Into shards in an instant,
And could write your fate quite afresh.
O Children of my poor country!

Written by Sabina Riffat
Translated by Muhammad Shanazar

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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In the Country

This life is sweetest; in this wood
I hear no children cry for food;
I see no woman, white with care;
No man, with muscled wasting here.

No doubt it is a selfish thing
To fly from human suffering;
No doubt he is a selfish man,
Who shuns poor creatures, sad and wan.

But 'tis a wretched life to face
Hunger in almost every place;
Cursed with a hand that's empty, when
The heart is full to help all men.

Can I admire the statue great,
When living men starve at its feet!
Can I admire the park's green tree,
A roof for homeless misery!

poem by William Henry Davies
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Looking East

Standing in the ocean with the sun burning low in the west
Like a fire in the cavernous darkness at the heart of the beast
With my beliefs and possessions, stopped at the frontier in my chest
At the edge of my country, my back to the sea, looking east
Where the search for the truth is conducted with a wink and a nod
And where power and position are equated with the grace of god
These times are famine for the soul while for the senses its a feast
From the edge of my country, as far as you see, looking east
Hunger in the midnight, hunger at the stroke of noon
Hunger in the mansion, hunger in the rented room
Hunger on the tv, hunger on the printed page
And theres a god-sized hunger underneath the laughing and the rage
In the absence of light
And the deepening night
Where I wait for the sun
Looking east
How long have I left my mind to the powers that be?
How long will it take to find the higher power moving in me?
Power in the insect
Power in the sea
Power in the snow falling silently
Power in the blossom
Power in the stone
Power in the song being sung alone
Power in the wheatfield
Power in the rain
Power in the sunlight and the hurricane
Power in the silence
Power in the flame
Power in the sound of the lovers name
The power of the sunrise and the power of a prayer released
On the edge of my country, I pray for the ones with the least
Hunger in the midnight, hunger at the stroke of noon
Hunger in the banquet, hunger in the bride and groom
Hunger on the tv, hunger on the printed page
And theres a god-sized hunger underneath the questions of the age
And an absence of light
In the deepening night
Where I wait for the sun
Looking east

song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On a Small Touch of Hunger

A small touch of hunger sometimes is good
True hunger in truth never being good
While flase hunger is something for which to watch
Food being the great drug of our time
With which we anesthetize much more than hunger
Beware food as a drug which masks the deeper pain.

poem by Bill Grace
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