Dogged Days
A country-dog has chanced to find
A plantain-leaf with left-o’er food;
Oh, what a stroke of luck this day!
It rolls over the ground with joy
And rips the packet open fast.
Some bits of chicken-bones with flesh
Amidst some biriyani rice –
That smells quite good but could be stale,
Yet tempting to the dog’s taste-buds!
The food lies scattered on the ground
With mud and pebbles, paper too;
A hungry dog is blind to these,
And eats the food in hurried way.
God only knows what things have slipped
Past throat, along with food it took;
Its hunger-pangs abated now,
The dog basks in the sun and sleeps!
But death could come soon anytime;
Just lucky, ’tis alive today!
Think of the human beings too,
Who lead a dogged-life these days –
Without a proper meal a day
Or clothes to wear or place to rest!
The God of love who made us all
Is watching how we treat brethren;
We talk so big but do little
To help the most unfortunate souls.
No land can call itself blessed;
No people can call themselves great,
While famished, ravished souls exist,
And people live in slums like dogs!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-8-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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’Tis a Sad, Mad World!
A famished, ill-clad beggar stands
Amidst some barking dogs!
All searching through the garbage-dump
For left-over food, fast;
Each taking turns at emptying,
The things inedible;
Their hunger-pangs can drive them mad;
Will Dame Luck smile on them?
His eyes keep straining just for food,
On plantain-leaves by luck;
The scorching sun can’t bother him,
Nor can the stench within;
His pangs of hunger goads him on
To lick the residue;
His face keeps smiling when he sees,
A morsel of cooked grain!
The dogs are happy biting bones,
Though meat, they never meet;
He’s back to work upon the pile
And sorts the rocks from leaves;
There’s silence excepting the noise
Of scrambling for food found;
The garbage-dump’s a blessed spot,
Where man and beast share food!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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An Island War Tragedy!
Their hero is no more but then,
He is alive in every heart
And mind, for whom he fought so well,
Until he ultimately fell
To bullets sprayed from ruthless guns,
That brought the valiant man to earth.
The land is freed from ‘tigers’ now?
A mighty myth was rendered false;
The landscape lies in ruins much;
‘The people are refugees, ’ ‘Oh! ’
They died by thousands, all in vain;
Most families in tents just live.
Denied of equal rights for long,
The people hum a plaintive song
Of sufferings and unfairness,
Unleashed upon them by brethren.
Their trauma is too great to tell;
Their island life is now like hell.
They razed all buildings to the ground;
Their ravished women look like ghosts;
The mutilated ones too die,
For want of proper treatment fast.
Has God abandoned them also?
They have been victims of all crimes!
The war is over but so what?
Their fate lies hanging in peril;
Their shattered dreams of wealth and health
Have gone awaste in dogged lives;
Their families are dejected;
They wonder why they are alive!
The world stayed watching them suffer!
Their neighbors were insensitive;
A rosy world has turned blood-red!
Their future is in smithereens!
Where is the God who had made them?
Should wars cause wounds that cannot heal?
What tragedy had struck their isle!
Their land was like a paradise;
But things have gone all awry now;
They have no water, food to take;
Like cattle driven to their pens,
Their victors treat them worse than beasts!
Could not the genocide been stopped?
Is there not ways to avoid wars?
Innocent men, women, children,
Fall prey to perpetrators’ guns!
The world is silent while more die
Of diseases and lack of care!
The people need a soothing touch!
Let nations rush to help these souls;
They had not slept for days on end;
Their ears are deaf by blasts of bombs!
If human love is supreme, then,
Let nations hurry up to help!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 20-5-09
poem by John Celes
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Hungry Squirrel
It is the winter of 2001;
’Tis raining cats and dogs;
A hungry squirrel madly runs,
In frantic search of food!
It can’t control its hunger pangs;
The weather’s damp and cold;
There is no sign of any food;
How can it remain warm?
The guava-fruits have disappeared;
Papayas are unripe;
The Pea-fowls guard the Palmyras;
There are no wild berries.
The squirrel squeaks quite endlessly;
Its warmth is running out;
Perhaps, it thinks of grandpa-days,
Of juicy fruits and nuts.
But soon, the squeaks have feeble gone;
Did the rodent find some food?
Nature often cruel turns,
Leaving the beasts unfed.
The Squirrel hasn’t turned up, of late;
Is it then dead or gone?
Starved to death by Nature dear?
Or perhaps still alive!
While men can go and purchase food,
What can these poor beasts do?
Yet, Mother Nature cares for them,
Much better than me, you!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-16-2001
poem by John Celes
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This One Meal
This one meal mom just made
All this food she prepared
This one meal, I remembered
Mom and I had a deal
She said 'Just Eat It'
I stared at the bread I just bit
Watching mom throw away the leftover
Did she even think about the world hunger?
I tried to stop thinking about all this
I couldn't look at my full dish
I cannot hide it
It is too hard, ..
All the world hunger..
From which people die
All this food mom just threw away
Kidney Beans, Sausages, Potatoes...
If only she thought of what she was doing
Throwing away all this food
If only she thought
of what this food could do
save lives, prevent hunger..
Help people live their lives longer..
poem by Klaudia Kuczynska
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My Brother Julian.
my brother julian is weird,
but hes not one to be feared,
burgers and fries is all he eats,
loves video games
but he always cheats,
sleeps all night sleeps all day,
he goes to church but i never heard him pray,
but his nose is special it could smell food a mile away,
he gets crazy and physco thats why i call him violent j,
he loves food like they aint no tommorow,
he eats so fast i sometimes wonder if he swallowed,
hes always first in line to order,
hes favorite food is the ultimate cheeseburger,
hes cool but mostly rude,
but show him your food and violent j will druel.
1/05/2008
Copyright ©2009 Jose Murguia
poem by Jose Murguia
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Slaves of Food
Thick red blood veins bath in anger
The stomach grumbles in idiotic anger
A taste of food and out springs laughter
Triumphant moods commence again after
And it can be argued
We are all but slaves of food
Digesting away between interludes
Without food the mind is wholly screwed
We consume and wear different costumes
With food for thought and food of all sorts
We eat for the heart until it sets us apart
While the crumbs are often sought by rats
The pleasure one feels after a congested meal
That inner gratifying satisfaction is cheap but real
Toast, eggs and beans and it is work and work
Fruits, wine and cakes and it is talk and talk
Coffee or tea and eyes are conspicuously awake
A turkey roast and sleep is suspiciously at stake
We are all but slaves of food
I conclude with fluctuating moods
There is food for romance
There is food for the fools
Enjoy, eat fast, food never lasts, rewind and preview
Hungry mouths elsewhere regularly wait for its rescue
Copyright 2009 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Food is god
Food is god
for poor people...!
God is not
Only food...
Rich home
Dog is eat
Nice food...
That food is god...?
yes that also
A god...
Good food is
God...
What is good food...?
Given good health
Always good food...
So...
Non veg
Or veg...
Every good food
Is god...
Simply sit
Silentely eat food
With out hot
And cool drinks...
Food is not only
Poor's god...
With each and
Every one also
food is god...
Give respect and
Take food...
Happley too try too
Thank for god...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Sonnet-On Our Diet
Tis not the quantity but eating speed;
'Tis not the quality but balanced food;
'Tis not the satiety but primal need;
‘Tis not the food that matters but our mood.
Sheer gluttony is sin at any age;
One's labours should decide the quantity;
How much of words can hold a single page?
Let food be by affordability.
The grape is same that gives the juice or wine;
The food is same that prince or pauper eats;
The taste depends on proper sugar, brine;
The mind matters much more than all sweetmeats.
Our food-habits decide our health and feat;
We eat to live; Don't live to eat and eat.
poem by John Celes
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A Dogged Life!
A little dog has come to rest
In corner of the porch awhile;
With famished looks, it whines a bit,
And looks as if unfed for days!
This summer’s heat is excessive;
Water shortage exists for all;
The birds and beasts show sunken frames;
The air is pretty sultry, hot!
The night is rent with screams of dogs;
The new-comer was bit by rest;
The intruder is packed off fast,
With broken bones and bleeding skin!
The plight of street-dogs is so bad;
But what about a person lost?
I wonder how the world treats those
Who have no home or food or friends!
The plight of people in war-zones
Is pitiable and horrendous;
Why no one thinks of children hurt
Or dead, by bullets in conflicts?
So many die in wars across
The world that does not care for lives!
And many more are killed in wombs
Of human beings by habit!
Couldn’t people stop such senseless deaths?
Won’t sense afill human hearts, minds?
They brag of saving few rare lives,
And kill in myriads innocents!
And terrorists have come to spray
Their bullets upon common man;
Shame on the way this world goes on!
There is no place for those unborn!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-19-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
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We Cry for Food and They Give Us Bullets
Food! Food! Food!
It is all that we need
It is all that we need
to calm down our spirits!
It is food that fills
that fills the empty pangs
of our stomachs,
pangs that make us yawn
but cannot sleep
that make us gulp
but cannot vomit,
that make our saliva
taste sour and acidic!
We cry for food
like the helpless little children
with the art to attract attention
by our street demonstrations.
Yes, we cry for food like little children
to calm down our spirits,
that the cry cannot at all be neglected
for it is food,
it is food that soothes our spirits.
But you give us bullets
on the streets where we stage
our cry for food
You give us bullets
instead of food.
But even bullets cannot silence
our cry for food
for as long as we`re hungry
we shall be like little children
that will ever cry for food.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Cooking and taste
eating the same tasteless dinner at the only diner
the umpteenth time, a thought came to my mind
am i a guinea pig or one of its kind
or was there a conspiracy behind
has my taste buds gone out of date
why is all so tasteless, that is the food i ate
i dared to ask the manager why the taste is so bad
bang came a caustic reply, this is by the best cook he ever had
(insinuating a problem not with his cook but with my taste)
well then it has to be my taste buds i thought
directing all my efforts to the food i had bought
then came storming, the savior, inside the hall
in his hand was the same food for which i have taken the fall
indignanlty he shouted at the manager
this food is so bad that even his dog had refused to had
hell i thought even the dog has a better taste
why, why am i such a waste
the dog in me forced me to start cooking that very day
the dog in me does sometimes refuses to eat what i cook
the human in me requests him to hav another look
for, when people are struggling for one square meal a day
how can i keep the food i cooked at bay,
hence i eat, taste or no taste, everything i cook, every day.
The Rat and the Owl
A rat is moving on the ground;
It searches for something to eat;
’Tis night and it must quickly find
Some food or else, it must sure starve!
A large owl stands with two large eyes;
It turns its neck to scan the ground;
It strains its eyes to catch a prey,
And sees a rat shuffling across!
Both search for food in frantic ways;
Both need to eat to stay alive;
The owl is like a ghost at night;
Its large eyes contrast rat’s small ones!
The owl is predator for rat;
The rat is prey for owl at night;
The owl is sure to pin the rat,
And death is sure for the latter!
The rat moves on unwarily!
It nears the owl innocently;
It does not know that death is near;
Its mind is bent on searching food!
The owl is watching rat’s movements;
The prey is rather small in size;
It tries to keep the rat within
Its visual fields, and take a strike!
The rat is unaware of owl;
It has not sniffed the danger near;
With nostrils engrossed in food-search,
It scurries to and fro for long!
The owl is planning when to swoop;
An opportune moment must come;
The rat must take a moment’s rest;
The owl’s claws take the rat to nest!
The predator is smart and swift;
The prey will certainly get caught;
There is a small chance to escape;
But, predator must make the fault!
Both owl and rat must eat to live;
The rat is prey for owl always;
The rat can still avoid its death;
It must respect the owl’s beak-might!
In life, we play with dangers oft;
We know that fire surely burns;
We walk into the ‘jaws of death’!
We take some risks that bring us death!
But being careful is a must;
We cannot risk our precious life;
Lurk dangers in our environs;
The thread of life could get cut fast!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-21-2008
poem by John Celes
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Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Hunger, The Pang
Our mother earth gives
For one good grain sown
Hundreds of fresh grains
For our food in return.
How many sweet fruits
For a life time she gives
For one seed she takes
As one tree it grows?
Any animal on the land
Or any bird on the air
For its morrow's food
Does it take all the care?
For the food on the ground
How a crow makes a sound
Of 'caw' to call crows around
Just to share what it found?
When big cooked rice balls
An elephant in its mouth takes
A part of it on the floor spills
That feeds hundreds of ants.
But when a have on this earth
For his self, the food he hoards,
Doesn't the have-not's mouth
Go unfed for days countless?
The food in a pompous feast
A junk of it goes as rubbish.
If this goes to the poor atleast
Will that not fulfill God's wish?
The worst pain in the world
Is what the hunger gives
But this can be solved
If all follow the crows.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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The Bihar Floods 2008
Fed by the melting snows from Himalayas,
And seven tributaries through the year,
The river Kosi still remains untamed!
A giant ‘water-snake’ that moves side-wards,
Flooding the fields and washing off all huts –
A river that is annually ‘in spate’!
The ‘Kosi’ is the ‘sorrow of Bihar’!
A million people have lost huts and homes;
Many are stranded without shelter, food.
The plight of people is so pathetic;
The helicopters can rescue but few;
The food-packets don’t reach the hungry souls!
They blame a broken barrage near Nepal;
But embankments can’t stop the annual floods;
The river changed its course so many times!
O Indian, wake up to the neighbor’s call!
Share your mite to help the marooned people;
Your love of brethren should engulf your hearts!
O God, have mercy on the flood-hit state!
Recede the waters of Kosi in spate;
Rescue the victims and improve their fate!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 08-31-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have a Heart for Children, Poor!
In poverty born, bred, they live
In misery and future bleak,
All famished, ravished and ill-clad –
Most children of the modern world!
Their parents have to slog all day;
They can’t afford a single meal;
They cannot go to school but stay
As rag-pickers all life and earn.
What folly have their parents done?
The poor are unlucky always;
Their future is like broken glass,
That cannot be together put!
In mud-walled huts and roofs of leaves,
With longing eyes that beg for food,
Half-naked children wait to hear
The foot-steps of their parents come.
With weathered faces, unkempt hair,
With innocence without compare,
With mal-odor that fills the air –
How much of sorrow can they bear?
Their eyes appear to speak and plead
To anyone who passes by,
‘Have mercy on us, poor children;
We smile despite our hunger-pangs! ’
Their eyes look muddy, lack-lustre;
Their anguished hearts, enfeebled frames;
Not enough blood afills their veins;
Their food is deficient always!
Their eyes speak volumes of ill-luck,
And torture by human beings;
Their bodies bear the scars of past
unfairness, meted out by all!
They have to walk for miles bare-foot,
to fetch a pot of water that
can never quench their thirst for long
but causes diarrheal deaths!
And Nature’s furies take their toll,
As rain and floods and droughts unfold;
Diseases turn them invalids –
The God who made them watches on!
But blame must go to mankind first,
Whose wastage, wrongs and ill-wrought plans
Reduced most of the human race
To existence in poverty!
A few on earth have richer turned,
by making rest of poor, poorer!
Their hearts of greed can’t be appeased
Until their death-knell’s gong is belled!
’Tis strange to watch how hunger kills
the children of stark poverty,
Whilst big money goes down the drain
and rodents, pests eat most food-crops!
Beware of eyes of children poor!
In silent, wordless, ways, they plead
To God to change their misfortune:
Unleash His wrath upon the rich!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 09-27-2008
poem by John Celes
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