Dream Voyageurs
To ports of balm through isles of musk
The gentle airs are leading us;
To curtained calm and tents of dusk,
The wood-wild things unheeding us
Will share their hoards of hardihood,
Cool dew and roots of fern for food,
Frail berries full of the sun's blood.
To planets bland with dales of dream
A tranquil life is leading us,
We shall land from the languid stream,
The musing shades, unheeding us,
Will share their veils of angelhood,
Thoughts that are tranced with mystic food,
Still broodings tinct with a seraph's blood.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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Food To Share
She set the table with white linen cloth
and fancy dinnerware,
Sparkling crystal glasses with stems
and then she said a prayer.
But she had no food to share.
She played some Brahms and quietly sat
and fiddled with her hair.
She lit some candles and watched them glow,
all alone with no one there.
She had no food to share.
She was old and frail and forgetful
and she could not remember where
all the guests that used to dine
had sat in every chair.
She had no food to share.
She sat and thought of older times
when there was food enough to spare
for family, friends and strangers
who'd come from everywhere
for all that she had to share.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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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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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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A Last Appeal
KNOWING our needs, hardly knowing our powers,
Hear how we cry to you, brothers of ours!--
Brothers in nature, pulse, passions, and pains,
Our sins in you, and your blood in our veins.
First in your palace, or last in our den,
Basest or best, we are all of us men!
Justice eternal cries out in our name,
What is the least common manhood can claim?
'Food that we make for you,
Money we earn:
Give us our share of them--
Give us our turn.'
Landowners, bankers, and merchants, we make
Out of our lives this new wealth that you take.
Have we earned only such pitiful dole
As just holds worn body to desolate soul?
When that soul is bewildered each day and perplext
With the problem of how to get bread for the next,
Is it better to end it, as some of us do,
Or to fight it out bravely, still calling to you--
'Food that we make for you,
Money we earn:
Give us our share of them--
Give us our turn'?
Ever more passionate grows our demand--
Give us our share of our food and our land:
Give us our rights, make us equal and free--
Let us be all we are not, but might be.
Our sons would be honest, our daughters be pure,
If our wage were more certain, your vices less sure--
Oh, you who are forging the fetters we feel,
Hear our wild protest, our maddened appeal--
'Food that we make for you,
Money we earn:
Give us our share of them--
Give us our turn.'
Hear us, and answer, while Time is your friend,
Lest we be answered by God in the end;
Lest, when the flame of His patience burns low,
We be the weapon He shapes for His blow--
Lest with His foot on your necks He shall stand,
And appeal that you spurned be new-born as command,
And thunder your doom, as you die by the rod
Of the vengeance of man through the justice of God.
'Food that we make for you,
Money we earn:
Give us our share of them--
Give us our turn.'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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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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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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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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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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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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Perchance To Dream
Perchance to dream
Drive into the waters edge yeah
Splashing all over me
Turning my world upside down
Then I see, and I start to dream as if for the first time
Suddenly as calm as can be skies full of wonder tears asunder
Climb through the cold falling up to meet the road
Something in my head will explode
Oh baby dream, won't you come and share the world with me
Time with me
Tears on gem rocks tear out, tender to strike it with
The loose rock can satisfy the lights of the soft wood.
And then I see, and I start to dream marching in new shine
Stars on my breath scares me the best flickering metal, shadows
Fly through the air, falling up to brush the clouds
Static in my hair I'm rushing out
Oh baby dream won't you come and share the world with me
Time with me
And then I see, and I start to breath as if for the first time
Suddenly, as calm as can be, sky full of wonder tears me under
Fly through the cold, falling up to meet the road
Something in my head will explode
Oh baby dream, won't you come and share the world with me
Some time with me
Oh baby dream, won't you come and share the world with me
Time with me
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Food On My Table
Come and see the food on my table,
For it is prepared for you and me;
And, i am waiting for you in the room of my love.
Life is full of surprises and i want to show you my love,
And here comes the sun of the morning to touch your heart;
For, it is right for you to be beside me at this table.
The food on my table,
As soon as you receive my letter means that i love you;
For life is full of surprises and i want your love,
So come and let us share this food on my table.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Let Me Share My Love With You
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me give you slippers so that you do not walk along barefooted.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me cloth you with the muse of love so that you do not walk around naked.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me give you enough food so that you do not go hungry.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me give you enough water so that you do not go thirsty.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me take care of you under my shelter so that you do not become homeless.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me share my money with you so that you do not become penniless.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me take you around the world so that you do not become loneliness.
For this life needs the positive values of the muse of love and,
I have enough to share with you in my humble abode of peace and care.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Food For The Body
Food is of geese, blood and guts,
Under this river of blood and ancestry.
Friendly relationships come forth when adjusted
By the food granted by the authors of books
And the very changers of uniform.
Ichor, a fluid of the Gods, runs through it all,
The body of drugs and violence,
To shatter and obey, to be munched and abstained,
Like lionesses.
Food is critical, it needs a message
So that you abide by the rules of music and wizardry.
Food is of the wizards and witches, fully able
To delight and appal and be rejected.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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Life After Death
You spoke many times of life after death
and now you've taken your last breath.
You believed that when you pass away
your spirit exists in a different way.
In a ethereal place that lasts for eternity
with other spirits that used to be.
You travel that space on paths of air
and talk with thoughts that spirits share.
Gentle movements are how you touch
the spirits you once loved so much.
Friends will be met who have passed away
so you can share that eternal day.
Your past life now belongs to history
and you have joined the spiritual mystery.
You said you would try to communicate from there,
but your thoughts can't penetrate this planets air.
All I can do is wish you well and say goodbye,
and perhaps one day we'll again say hi.
Until then you'll be locked in my memory,
along with your life after death theory.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Hutch
of her arms, this was her sin:
where the wood berries bin
of forest was new and full,
she crept out by its tall
posts, those wooden legs,
and heard the sound of wild pigs.
calling and did not wait nor care.
The leaves wept in her hair
as she sank to a pit of needles
and twisted out the ivyless
gate, where the wood berries bin
was full and a pig came in.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
I and I are the roots
Some are the dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, lo ok at that
They need some dry wood
To cook up the raw food
Whoa, look at that
I got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Some are wolf
Inna sheeps clothing
Whoa, look at that
Many are called
But only a few are chosen
Whoa, look at that
Nothing that dividers can do
Cant seperate us from our father
Whoa, look at that
You see, blood is thicker than water
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna disyah ghetto, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Whoa, I and I are the roots
Some are leaves
While some are branches
But remember I and I are the roots
Some are dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Hey, I and I are the roots
Ooh we, roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Oh yeah, I and I are the roots
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sharing
If every life learned to share
A happier world we would have
We could share our lives
And share our thoughts
Without any kind of recrimination
We could share our love
With all the strangers
That may come our way
Around the world
Making new friends wherever we go
If sharing was not just a dream
Paradise at our feet
Would unfold
There would be no more poverty
For every crust of bread, we’d share
We can only dream that one day
Many hearts will beat as one
Many minds will think alike
No more terrors will strike discord
And sharing will become the word
26 April 2007
poem by David Harris
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Fruit of the Flower
My father is a quiet man
With sober, steady ways;
For simile, a folded fan;
His nights are like his days.
My mother's life is puritan,
No hint of cavalier,
A pool so calm you're sure it can
Have little depth to fear.
And yet my father's eyes can boast
How full his life has been;
There haunts them yet the languid ghost
Of some still sacred sin.
And though my mother chants of God,
And of the mystic river,
I've seen a bit of checkered sod
Set all her flesh aquiver.
Why should he deem it pure mischance
A son of his is fain
To do a naked tribal dance
Each time he hears the rain?
Why should she think it devil's art
That all my songs should be
Of love and lovers, broken heart,
And wild sweet agony?
Who plants a seed begets a bud,
Extract of that same root;
Why marvel at the hectic blood
That flushes this wild fruit?
poem by Countee Cullen
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A Good Life
Living outside those and these planets is funny,
And I like fierce planets of natured tips and peaks.
This is the better bargain of a Life without virtue,
An opposite deal over and under the agreed art.
Forceful plans are plenty and pretty, of each blood,
Such too many like to love altogether, and live alone,
Towards the towers of colourful nature and genius,
As if food is good in dozens of days and real life.
poem by Naveed Akram
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