More Food
Toy us, toy food with instinct saving you,
Then definitely work on that which makes,
Surrender yours, so action failed - it aches,
It aches and aches, forever it imbue.
So face this sound like fodder and horseshoe,
I see a bath may profit my backaches,
Then present food described us as brakes,
Cakes bring the joy to danger - interview!
I see the toys, I think I am a tool,
My tools as one that lusts for pain are grand,
The work I feed shall win, shall fit, preserve.
Inquire into food and carrots cool,
This energetic choir sings so bland,
My work is concentrating on my nerve.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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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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As the Music Plays
As the music plays
my heart aches
it aches with pain
pain of the past
and pain of the present
As the music plays
my heart aches
it aches with hurt
hurt that I have caused
and hurt that has been caused
As the music plays
my heart aches
it aches with passion
passion that yearns
and passion that wants
As the music plays
my heart aches
it aches with love
love that will never be shared
and love that will never be known
As the music stops
my heart no longer aches
it doesn't feel anything
the music has stopped
and so has everything else.
poem by Carissa Thiessen
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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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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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My Mum Is An Excellent Cook
My mum is an excellent cook
But she doesn’t make good food everyday
We eat special things all the time
Is what my friends feel and say
They keep telling me to bring
Special food to school
But having stomach aches everyday
Is what I do not think cool
When someone reminded me of
Mom made Pizza, chocolates and meat
Now I don’t care of stomachache
All I want to do is eat!
poem by Risha Ahmed
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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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Earth-quakes?
God shakes
The earth with quakes –
A way, some men, He wakes,
To know the genuine from fakes,
And to prepare more souls for Elysium Lakes!
God takes
Some lives, He makes –
Like fallen leaves, He rakes,
And gives some men more pains and aches –
A way, sometimes, the ‘cakes of souls’, He bakes!
Man takes
No blame for quakes;
He is not wise but makes
All blunders, mortal sins, mistakes,
Without in life, ever applying the brakes!
God makes;
The Maker takes;
Should man not for God sakes,
Then understand the pow’r of quakes –
An index of the Omnipotent’s aches?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-15-2010
poem by John Celes
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Food
Food food food
All are here for food
All evolve from food
All act for food
All think about food.
All know no food
No existence.
Food come from rain
Rain ensues from sacrifice
Sacrifice rooted
In prescribed action
Prescribed action
Originate from knowledge
Knowledge proceed from you
You my dear not destructible.
So long as you are there
Food is there
You are all pervading
You are infinite
I the finite
Long for you
Through the food
Supplied to me
Only by you
And the food
Itself you.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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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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Y.... Hope
There is hope
That one time
We'll all have enough
Enough food
Not too much
Just enough
No more hunger
No more obesity
Let‘s start to work for this today…
There is hope
That one time
We'll all have enough
Enough clean water
To drink
Or orange juice
No more thirst
No more drunkenness
Let‘s start to work for this today…
There is hope
That one day
We'll all have enough
Enough love
Not the ego love
Enough soul love
No more heart aches
No more needless hurts
Let's start to work for it today…
There is hope
That one time
We'll all have enough
Enough wisdom
Enough for a healthy laugh
Wisdom for a sincere tear
No more arrogance
No more money blindness
Let's start to work for it today…
Let us start today
A kindness revolution
The biggest revolution
Ever
Let's all hope together
And work for it today.
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Respect The Earth!
why do we always mistreat
the people who do our farm work?
why would we starve the people
who pick our crops?
why would we deport the only people
who are willing to do the work?
and you wonder why your kids
think that all food comes
from an aisle in the grocery store!
gas prices keep rising,
food prices keep rising...
what happens when the trucking
industry goes down?
what are you going to eat then?
we need to as much as possible
go back to raising our food.
at the very least support
your local farmers...
no GM seeds!
do it the old way, the right way.
pay your farm workers,
pay them well!
get out and do the work yourself!
stop the dependency on a failing system!
let the people who want to work, work!
respect the earth, and it will respect us!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Please feed my daughter
It's been a long time since we've had food and water.
I don't care about myself but please feed my daughter.
I hate to inconvenience you or to intrude.
But my daughter will die if she doesn't gets some food.
She's a sweet girl who is adorable and her heart is pure.
My entire world will collapse if anything happens to her.
I asked others for food but they all said no.
They didn't give a damn and that was pretty low.
I'm willing to do some work around your house if you'll spare a meal.
I'll do anything to feed my daughter except steal.
I lost my home and my job and I'll appreciate any food that you'll give her.
If she dies, I want to die too because life won't be worth living unless I'm with her.
poem by Randy Johnson
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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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My Belly Aches
Your belly aches from too much food,
Eating this likened your mood like fire melts wood.
The belly hurts from the compulsions,
The food of life angers my soul like dirt.
May the stomach be bleeding,
It hurts from the deep wound of hunger.
Hunger creates character like a brain thinks,
More selfish is the devil who does not create.
Must we listen to devils and demons always?
Then food disappears and we are aching like fools.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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It is Cruel
Cruel objectives spend their tactics
On food and war, the splendour of amazement.
The cruel work is continuous as lines in space
When production of war is up to it.
How do splendid people require a food?
Their cruel answers may pervert the cures
Of the modern man, but how do they feed?
My work is over, the selling of knowledge,
A brand new weapon of assault, for the unique
Who defend the country.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Wealth And Food
There is pity where we walk
In the mouths we float our food
Sin is again in the mind
What will this bring when we think?
What food do we bring for our bodies
When the mouth is strong in taste
For the fine wine and lovely bites
So strong in love of our soul?
The smile on your face is strong
As the tale we tell will bring more food
To the hearts of the poor
Who will love us more for our wealth is grand.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Aches
My heart aches when i talk to you
My heart aches when i don't hear from you
My heart aches when i long for you
I don't know why
You've taken over my thoughts
I can't even explain
You're still a stranger
Far Away
I want you close by
I miss your embrace
Holding you close
I miss you
poem by Margaret Smith Vail
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Work To Do!
i came from a generation
that worked.... was born to
work, daylight to dawn,
for everything we had.
we grew our own food, we
cut firewood, we worked
with our hands.
we were taught to work...
we built houses, bridges,
paved roads... worked on
farms, worked in sawmills,
worked in factories...
whatever it took for food
and shelter...
and if a neighbor got hurt,
or sick, and couldnt work...
we helped him and his family
till he could.
those of us left who can work
are still working, a lot of us are
out of work, and cant find work!
and so the world has changed...
it seems like a lot of people
spend more time avoiding work
than working... a lot of people
look for the easy way out...are
dependent on society...
still a lot of good and willing people
just need help.
they call this progress...based
on technology, and looking out for
number one. seperated, almost islands...
greed has taken the place of the bent back!
so when it all falls apart, and that will
be soon, what happens? who knows how
to survive? who has the backbone?
things to think about, and yes...
work to do!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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