Ceausescu's Children 1996
Out of the manholes they crawl
to face another hopeless day.
Not rats or cockroaches,
but Romania's children.
Selling their miserable bodies
for food, or glue.
Food barely sustains, but sniffing
glue anaesthetises their misery.
Children of Romania, raped,
abused, diseased and forgotten.
Alina, just sixteen was heard to say.
'I wan't to die'
Why not?
She's only just alive.
poem by Jerry Hughes
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May God Help The Poor Children
He help the homeless children the children of the street
He give them clothes and shelter he give them food to eat
He try to shield them from police the police no mercy show
And the glue sniffing children of the streets at their hands suffer so.
I watched a documentary on Guatemala the saddest I've seen for years
The crimes against the children moved hardened heart to tears
The police of Guatemala beat the street kids to death
How can men do such evil things and not live to regret? .
The street kids of Guatemala they know Bruce Harris well
He try to keep them from the streets from life of crime and hell
He try to shield them from police from cruel inhuman men
His is an uphill battle a battle hard to win.
He help the homeless children the children of the street
He give them clothes and shelter he give them food to eat
And may God help the poor children such suffering they go through
And God bless all those who help them and God bless Bruce Harris too.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two On Glue
Who huffed at the party? Me and you
At the party, two on glue
Gonna get up going down
We're just two on glue
Turn this place into a den
We're just two on glue
Living large and getting small
We're just two on glue
Turn this place into a den
We're just two on glue
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Hungry Children
Everyday children around the world are starving,
Children has to go without food,
When their parents don't have the money to feed them,
All over the world, there are times,
When all children have went to bed without anything to eat.
Children die every single day,
Because they don't have,
Enough money to feed themselves.
Food should be free to low-income families,
So that the people who can't afford to feed their children can feed them,
Without having to worry that their children or themselves will die,
If food is free to these people,
We will have children for our next gernation.
poem by Bethany Williams
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Children of Lost God
Extended palms, seeking alms
sunken eyes, skeltoned arms
jaundiced skin, frail frames
children of lost God.
Ragged and shabby, looking ravenous
searching morsels of food, trembling and nervous
fighting the odds, weak but courageous
children of lost God.
Here, there and everywhere
at crossroads and traffic signals
selling wares of rich and famous
or washing utencils, running errands
at the stalls, dabhas, small eateries
under the hot sun or the sand
picture this, view not so grand
children of lost God.
Urchins of all ages initiated
into the crimes of different hue
slowly but surely they age to their prime
getting black listed under who is who
death stalks them every now and then
making them prey on a sly
yet they survive
forcing death to give them a bye
children of lost God.
Sodomised, molested or getting raped
gender distinction is never made
the claws of mafia so strong
have no choice but to go along
children of lost God.
Aquiring all vices
no saviour in sight
in time of crisis
abused and used
have no emotions of their own
ocean of tears not to be shown
children of lost God.
Their images haunt
future in them taunt
aware yet unawares
concern for them seldom we flaunt
children of lost God.
Oh God Almighty
help them find the lost God
free them from this bondage
now act and spare the rod
let them recover
lost childhood, innocence
and battered image
children of lost God
children of lost God.
----o-------------
Copyright/Children of lost God/Tribhawan Kaul
All rights reserved.
[email protected]
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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God Help The Children
the abused
the battered
the beaten
the molested
the raped
the murdered.
I see them daily
in the newspapers
on the tv screen
in the streets
innocent faced and pure
stained by the sins of their elders.
This is not what life promised them.
Cover their faces
place their tiny bodies
in tiny coffins
bury them in tiny graves
while their mothers weep.
We should all be weeping
Do not blame only their abusers
the ones who beat them
molested them
raped them
tortured them
killed them.
Blame us all.
A country that cannot look after its children
has no right to call itself free.
God save the children-
God save us all.
poem by Gillian Commerford
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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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War Vets Dream
When he came from Nam he had a plan
That not many people would understand.
To help children see that not all in life
Was destruction and poverty.
With death and bombings all around
All he could hear was the children s sounds.
With tears in their eyes and not understanding why
Why so many bodies on the ground
And not a one making a sound.
All he could see was these faces of despair
Children did not understand and could not care.
These visions of the war would
always stay in his mind
From that day forward till the end of time.
He vowed that he would do all that he can
To help all children and his fellow man.
When you see the ravages of war
And a country torn apart
And its people scattered
Then staying alive is all that matters.
He knew that he could not stop this genocide
But he knew for the future children he had to try.
He wanted to create a place called “children s world”
A safe haven for every boy and girl.
A place where children could be children
And war they would not see.
Where they could be with friends and their families.
A place with a roof over their heads
Hot food and a bed.
He knows with time this dream will come true
“It just depends on people like you.”
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Defiance
The world has captured my attention.
It has smacked me in the face.
I defy the painfulness I see
as it brings so much disgrace.
Children raped by pedophiles,
religion covering it up,
Children dying from lack of food
and water to fill their cup,
Children killed from gangs that roam,
not even safe within their home,
Children, wide-eyed and laced with fear
who face the fact that death is near.
When I was a child I never thought
that children one day would be sold or bought.
I looked at a world that seemed different then.
And now I wonder how, why and when
all of it has become
a planet that tolerates all of this sin?
What kind of a world am I living in?
A 3rd dimensional place gone bad
Are the 5-senses all we've really had?
What about the 6th sense that's been denied?
the spiritual sense from which most hide.
The smack in my face has awakened in me
the fact that there never will be
a 3rd dimension reality
where love and peace and moral obligation
will live in our land or any other nation.
And so I defy these things that I see
and pray for the souls of humanity.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I'm Alive (That Was The Day My Dead Pet Returned To Save My Life)
I was just kicking down the street
And the sun was in my eyes
So I couldn't see the truck
That was sixty times my size
And just seconds off from splattering me
Let me tell you
I was so scared I couldn't move
Like my boots were full of glue
Then I felt a little tug
And I thought of good Old Blue
And he pulled me from that catastrophe
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
I'm alive
He's alive
I'm alive
I was spitting in the canyon
Near the cliff up on the mountain
When an unexpected sneeze
Hung me in the breeze
At forty five degrees in the sky
Suddenly I felt something
Had me by the belt
And in between my praying
Swore I heard a stallion neighing
Was the ghost of my horse
And I cried, yes I cried
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
I'm alive
He's alive
Hey, I'm alive
Things were getting gory
Got caught on territory
Belonging to the Crutches
In an alley in their clutches
Looking kind of dismal that night
Well the leader's name was Fats
Swinging broken baseball bats
Things got really frantic
Starting jumping in their panic
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
I'm alive, I'm alive, real alive
That was the day my dead pet returned
That was the day my dead pet returned
That was the day my dead pet returned
That was the day my dead pet returned
To save my life
Hallucinating billions of rats
Lots of rats
I'm alive, I'm alive
He's alive, he's alive, he's alive
I'm alive, yeah
He's alive, he's alive
I'm alive, real alive
Alive, alive, alive
Alive, alive, alive, alive
Alive, alive, alive, alive
I'm alive
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Mothers Life
Born into poverty, abandoned very young
No mother or lullabies to be sung
Left all alone, her the oldest of three
Boards nailed on the windows so they couldn't see
She would write on the wall, one mark each day
So she would know how long they'd been away
Dad said to her, mom is really sick
Got to get her to the hospital, need to go real quick
Take care of the kids till we get back
Not a light in the place, all was black
Barely any food for them all to eat
The room so drafty, there was no heat
One day when she had fourteen marks on the wall
She heard a man shout out a call
He told the others, I hear crying inside
Pulled the boards of the door, while they tried to hide
He told the others, these children need food and clothes
He sure glad he heard them before the building was bulldozed
He called child welfare, and ladies came out
They took these poor children without a doubt
They took these children to different foster parents
Their neglect and and poverty was quite apparent
Their parents never returned to get them back
But at least they weren't still living in that old shack
They all were adopted to different places
Never to hold or see each others faces
Helen was the oldest, the one who had cared for them
Haunted for life, from the memories that stem
I know this story oh so well
Because of the past her whole life was hell
I was her daughter, till she passed away
It effected my life too, I was others prey
She didn't know how to be a mother
All we three, her children had was one another
So I suffer the curse of loneliness and depression
I've been loved and another's possession
I've been abused, the pain goes deep
What other have sewn is what I've reaped
By Dogs4donna
© 2008 Dogs4donna (All rights reserved)
poem by Donna Nimmo
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The Crawl
It takes the pain away
That could not make you stay
Its way to broke to fix
No glue, no bag of tricks
Lay me down, the lie will unfurl
Lay me down to crawl.
Your smile would make me sneeze
When we were siamese
Amazing grace in here
Id pay to have you near.
Lay me down, the lie will unfurl
Lay me down to crawl.
Dont go and lose your face
At some strangers place
And dont forget to breathe
And pay before you leave
Lay me down, the lie will unfurl
Lay me down to crawl.
Lay me down, the lie will unfurl
Lay me down to crawl.
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Carbona Not Glue
Wondering what Im doing tonight Ive been in the closet and feel all right
Ran out of carbona mom threw out the glue
Ran out of paint and roach spray too its tvs fault why I am this way
Mom and pop wanna put me away from the early morning movie to the late late show
After its over nowhere to go and Im not sorry for the things I do
My brain is stuck from shooting glue Im not sorry for the things I do
Carbona not glue
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Secret of Life
The artist picked his career
With the intention of just being good.
Finding that to get what you seek
You cannot just be good,
'Would I have picked this job, ' he thought,
'Had I known what now I know,
That there is bad in what I sought? '
He had a go at doing
What a teacher said,
Using glue,
Using lots of glue,
But finding still
Some goodness left,
Used only glue instead.
Asked for his finding
On the secret of life,
He admitted he hadn't a clue,
'But I know where it has to lie,
It can only lie in the binding.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
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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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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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The Blindfold
the devil came and covered our eyes
but he was in for a big surprise
GOD lifted the veil so that you could see
that this is not about you or me.
this is about the children of the world
every little boy and girl.
who is hungry for food and love
which was given to us from above.
look around you and what do you see
hunger and poverty.
children with no place to sleep
and no food to eat.
looking through the garbage
for a little treat.
the devil thrives on peoples fears
and doesn't give a damn about your tears.
he wants to put you through the aches and pains.
so that you will pull away from
GOD above, who gives us strength and love.
help all children, because you'll never know
if this is the way that they will go.
poem by Louis Rams
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