On the Miracle of the Multiplied Loaves
See here an easy feast that knows no wound,
That under hunger's teeth will needs be sound;
A subtle harvest of unbounded bread,
What would ye more? Here food itself is fed.
poem by Richard Crashaw

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Divine Epigrams: On the Miracle of the Multiplied Loaves
See here an easy feast that knows no wound,
That under hunger's teeth will needs be sound;
A subtle harvest of unbounded bread,
What would ye more? Here food itself is fed.
poem by Richard Crashaw

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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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Nobody Dies Of Hunger
i have not heard
of someone
die of hunger, man always knows how to live
not by bread alone
he also knows how to steal a loaf of bread
and there is no more
prison term for
a loaf so to speak
for society knows
the worth of a loaf and
judges know
the justifications for
hunger,
rice, fish, bread, water,
morsels,
dog food, all these, satisfy hunger
but really
i think more have died not of hunger
but of fear
and yes, i agree with you
loneliness also kills
so which is which
that kills you
the fear of being
alone
and being alone and
lonely
strictly speaking, fear and loneliness
are two distinct
feelings, one is still to come
and by
a very long distance
it hits you right
in the head
and then
you fall like you were executed by nobody, no one,
except
by an empty space,
a false bullet shot by this badge of fraud,
extreme loneliness
the murderer again
whose name
is no one but yourself
what a pity!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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What an Irony
My nation is celebrating good harvest this season
Behind tones of grains lying rotten
Insects having feast on them
Highest courts have ordered to distribute,
Why waste them
Who are bothered, swollen bellies unattended?
Record breaking harvest on one side,
People dying of hunger other side...
What an irony...
Hunger bellies caught in dirty politics
Who is bothered, everyone self centered
The court rightly said
Even god cannot save this country...
poem by Jisha Viswam

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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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The valour of gambling
One bets on horses, another on cards,
The third one on stocks, thus they push their tides.
Nor for food do they wage for they are rich
It is ego’s urge that propels them to do.
They want to see their prediction come true,
And when they come true, they beam,
With bearing for failures in between.
Hunger for ego is stronger than
Hunger for love and hunger for bread.
The valour is sweet, with loss though.
07.07.2005
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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Spread Like Lilies
come little sparrows
hop about all freely
under my laid tables
daily feast upon crumbs
of this our heavenly
daily bread spread like lilies
of God’s harvest fields
sparrows do not spin or weave
freely feast enjoy stay believe.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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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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Harvest and Autumn
Harvest, harvest
all you need,
is food and drink
and fruit indeed.
Harvest friend is harvest moon,
of course.
Autumn, Autumn
Harvest is in Autumn,
oh, what a great time to celebrate! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Karolina Gosztyla

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Harvest For The World
All babies together
Evry one a seed
Half of us are satisfied
The other half of us in need
Loves bountiful in us
Tarnished by our greed
Oh, when will there be a harvest.. for the world?
(harvest for the world)
A nations planted
So concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, we wont wait in vain
Far too many, feelin the strain
(chorus)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest for the world)
Dress me up for battle
When all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price
Come home with the least
And nation after nation, tuning into beasts
(chorus)
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest..
song performed by by Duran Duran

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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Hunger in Botany Bay
Hunger lurks down the streets of Botany Bay;
The lonely child famished and peckish cries for food
None notices the child, for they’re preoccupied with the travesty of justice in Botany Bay
An observant vagabond pays heed to the child, and shares the lone piece of bread
The child ecstatic with what’s it got, runs to its hovel
The hovel where it was raised, is full of abjection and misery
The child runs to its mother, gives the lone piece of bread
The mother in tears, tears up the piece of bread
Gives a piece to the child to satiate its hunger
Keeps the other piece for the other slumbering child
For such is the love of the mother, careless about her own hunger
Gets lost in the agony of doubt, of how she will raise her children
In this world full of misery and pain.
poem by Deepak Hiremath

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To Seek Food
Hunger is to seek food,
Food has one eye and one ear.
The food we abstain from are the heads,
The food is caring over us, and we maintain
Our lives with the food of the day.
Liquors are taken as food,
With a brain too bright,
A table and a cook is required,
Forming my life as a whole.
poem by Naveed Akram

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Sharks Teeth
Sharks Teeth
Date: February 21,2012
You gathered me in shadows
Spurned me in the light
At noon, your teeth sharpened
At dusk, you're taking sight
Caught between the crosshairs
A victim…aye, the prey
My heart, an easy target
A simple lot to slay
A meal of easy pickings
Like rabbit in a snare
Your rage is fired upon me
A shot to burn the air
A moment then it's over
Your motives met the mark
You feast upon your victory
Circling like a shark
************************************ *********
Copyright © 2012 Leria Hawkins, All Rights Reserved
poem by Leria Hawkins

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Real Property
Tell me about that harvest field.
Oh! Fifty acres of living bread.
The colour has painted itself in my heart;
The form is patterned in my head.
So now I take it everywhere,
See it whenever I look round;
Hear it growing through every sound,
Know exactly the sound it makes —
Remembering, as one must all day,
Under the pavement the live earth aches.
Trees are at the farther end,
Limes all full of the mumbling bee:
So there must be a harvest field
Whenever one thinks of a linden tree.
A hedge is about it, very tall,
Hazy and cool, and breathing sweet.
Round paradise is such a wall,
And all the day, in such a way,
In paradise the wild birds call.
You only need to close your eyes
And go within your secret mind,
And you'll be into paradise:
I've learnt quite easily to find
Some linden trees and drowsy bees,
A tall sweet hedge with the corn behind.
I will not have that harvest mown:
I'll keep the corn and leave the bread.
I've bought that field; it's now my own:
I've fifty acres in my head.
I take it as a dream to bed.
I carry it about all day....
Sometimes when I have found a friend
I give a blade of corn away.
poem by Harold Monro

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Taste Of Food
In food is a certain quality of taste,
May they abstain and be erased.
For food manages my godly life,
Just as the fish manage with strife.
In this food, in that food we collapse
And honour a feast with some gaps.
The food we eat as dinner shall be kind
To the sleep we carry throughout the mind.
What food do you cook with expertise?
Fish and meat will certainly cease!
poem by Naveed Akram

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Too Much Food
You can say that Im one curly fry in the box of the regular
Messing with the flavor oh the flavor that you savor
Saving me for last but you better not eat me at all
Living in a fast food bag making friends with the ketchup and salt
People say that Im crazy for not moving on to better things
Instead Im sitting around trash talking with the onion rings
But its much too soon to leave this easy life
Pass me the spoon. pass the analytical knife
Cause your about to get cut and get cut down
Its all about the wordplay all about the sound in the tone of my voice
You gotta let me make my choice alone before my food gets cold
Better shut up or get shot down. it s all about the know how all just a matter of taste
Stop telling me the way I gotta play. too much food on my plate.
Believe it or not I super sized my sights on the surprise in the cereal box
My stomachs smaller than my eyes
So I went to see the doctor and he said turn your head and then cough
I didnt listen to what he said instead I couldnt wait to get off
He said I can have this but I cant have that
That I should keep wishing I was living the life of a cat because
I aint the one whose gonna be missing the feast
Just like you aint the one who seems to be calming the beast
Now your about to get cut and get cut down
Its all about the wordplay all about the sound in the tone of my voice
You gotta let me make my choice alone before my food gets cold
Better shut up or get shot down. it s all about the know how all just a matter of taste
Stop telling me the way I gotta play. too much food on my plate.
Well if you are what you eat in my case Ill be sweet so come and get some
Im so over it.
Now your about to get cut and get cut down
It s all about the know how all just a matter of taste
Stop telling me the way I gotta play. too much food on my plate.
(get up and get some)
Theres too much food on my plate
song performed by by Jason Mraz

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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He who has teeth has no bread, and he who has bread has no teeth.