Life Support
They traveled abroad,
Mistakes were made,
Stuck in the snow,
Becoming afraid,
Time had passed,
The food was gone,
Desperate & crazed,
Survival was on,
Some were alive,
But most had died,
Aching for food,
The dead nearby,
Their only choice,
Their last resort,
To eat the dead,
For life support,
Eating so fresh,
A meal so hearty,
Tasting the flesh,
The Donner Party.
poem by Maddy Jones
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Hard To Swallow
We eat to live
We eat to grow
We eat to endulge ourselves,
In the greatness of food
We eat to provide comfort
We eat to be accepted
We eat as it is part,
Of our lives
Food comes in all different forms,
Shapes and sizes
It can be a bean as small as a nail
Or a christmas turkey the size of a horse
Food is a necessity
Food is a way of life
Food is enjoyed
Food is loved
But for some,
Food is despised
Eating brings pain
Eating brings weight
Eating brings illness
Eating brings hate
Eating means endless pain
A pain that wont stop,
Until the food inside,
Is forced out
Eating means weight gain and hurt
So,
It's best not to eat at all
The aching pain of hunger drifts away,
With several ibuprofein.
The battle with food is a constant struggle
To overcome the eating disorder
To take one bite,
And Swallow!
poem by Chris jones
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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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Dead Or Alive
Dont turn off the light
You might draw the queen of spades
Dont shut the door
You dont need to be alone
I wont bring you no food
There might be some poison in your meat
Ive got to know are you dead or alive
Dont shut the door are you dead or alive
Dead or alive
Pick your window youre leaving
Dont look in the mirror
With a dollar up your face
Youve got money to burn
Youre cheap at half the price
Oh dont powder your nose
Dont blow your brains just for the the
Crack
Ive got to know are you dead or alive
Just for the crack are you dead or alive
Dead or alive
Pick your window youre leaving
Youre running so fast
But you know youre standing still
Im afraid of your shadow
And the knife in its hand
Youre dancing with death
To the tune of the dealer
And he dont care
Dont give a toss
Dont want to know if youre dead or alive
Dont want to know if youre dead or alive
Dead or alive
Pick your window youre leaving
song performed by by Deep Purple
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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Strizhevskaya
Strizhevskaya likes food that fresh,
as do so many of her friends,
eschewing fish and cattle flesh,
which carnivores who don’t offends
until they see that ethics may
be quite compatible with taste,
which she believes to be the way
demanded by the Torah, laced
with wine, and many kinds of cheese,
which both de rigueur are for her
and all her friends who’re glad to seize
the Sabbath as a friendly burr,
the special holy moment when
Jews should be eating only food
that turns young Hebrew boys to men
and makes sure that the girls are Jewed
with eco-friendly partners who
to Torah words are most attentive.
Food-consciously she gives this crew
to be good Jews a great incentive
that I applaud although I eat
dead fish, dead cows, dead fowl, dead sheep,
which help me greedily to greet
the Sabbath bride before I sleep.
replete with meat of beasts that chew
the cud and have a cloven hoof,
which matters greatly to this Jew
before he takes his shabbos schluf.
Inspired by an article in the LA Times, May 9,2009 by Mary MacVean and Duke Helfand (“‘Eco-kosher’ Jews have an appetite for ethical eating, ” describing the food habits of eco-friendly kosher Jews, including our friend Nadya Strizhevskaya:
As is the custom, the guests observed the holy day of rest with a meal, but with a twist: They were sharing a 'sustainable' Sabbath dinner on this Friday evening, with food that was locally grown, mostly organic and intended to elevate their practice of Judaism.
Arch and her husband, David Andorsky, passed around goat cheese - made at home - sprinkled with oregano, thyme and chives. Sarah Newman brought ratatouille made with her home-canned tomatoes and vegetables from a farmers market. The others, too, prepared food that was not only kosher and vegetarian, they explained, but provided a way for them to strengthen their ties to their faith and to live out a Jewish imperative to protect the Earth. The dinner reflected a powerful current in Jewish culinary consciousness: Growing numbers of people are choosing to express their values through the food they put on their tables, altering the most basic day-to-day decisions about nourishment. It's why Jenna Snow picked loquats from her yard - rather than buying them at the store - for the custardy cake called clafoutis that she made for the Sabbath potluck….
Strizhevskaya displayed her quiche, made with kale, peppers, onions, rosemary and marjoram - all from the Culver City market. 'When we go through this very long process of preparation, we become more at one with the creation all around us, ' Strizhevskaya told the group. 'We stop taking God's gifts for granted. For me, that's what Judaism is all about.'As dinner drew to a close, the friends sang the 'grace after meals' in Hebrew:
Because of His great goodness, we have never lacked food.... You are blessed, Lord, who provides food for all.
5/9/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Beggar is close to God
Begging for something is a cut
That is made at the root of your ego.
Begging for food is the deepest cut.
A monk goes begging for food,
Where he feels pride, not humiliation.
A beggar knocks the door for food,
Cursing his fate, tasting the humiliation.
Ego is active in monk, dead in beggar.
Who will get quick salvation?
04.11.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Quest
My tears for hunger continues.
My quest for water is running short.
The joy of shelter I could only dream of,
With no shirt on my back, not even a sole of a shore on my feet.
The great quest continues.
Don't no the taste of food because I hardly have any..
Never had a recreation
Nor any form of entertainment.
All I could think of whats my next meal.
Searching the vast desert for food is brutal, days of walking with no success,
Am in pain need food
My tiny stomach hurts, my legs weak, my hands dead, I can't breathe.
My life less body is damaged.dead from hunger.....
poem by Donavan Avril
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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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Hospital Food
Coming down through the alley
Trying to walk without a sound
It doesnt really matter
cause there aint no one around
Tip toe through the alley and
Tip toe through your life
You still got it coming
Be it gun be it knife
Next thing you know
Youre eating hospital food
Karaoke castration
Take the wasp alive
Hes gonna sting you anyway
And take you to the hive
Yesterday was suckin and
Tomorrows looking bad
Who knew that today
Was the only thing I had
Hospital food
Want some hospital food
Hospital food
Delicious hospital food
In your tribute album to the world
You must never forget
To sing the one about the cat
Whos always getting wet
He always got a problem
Hes a very bitter dude
And now hes complaining
About his hospital food
Hospital food
Its gonna help the medicine go down
Want some hospital food
Gonna take a walk without a sound
A little hospital food
Helps the spoonful of sugar come up
I want some hospital food
In your blender and in my cup
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Y... Food for the soul
Food for the body
I know of men, who do not have enough,
Lacking food and drink, their life is rough
Day in, day out they struggle for food
There is no time for any other good
Food for the ego
I know of men who have enough food and drink
So they have time for something else to think
Their egos are hungry for money, power and fame
Getting more, being restless, an endless game
Food for the soul
I know of men who are contented with how they live
They focus on soul and never cease to give
To give love and support, perform acts randomly kind
They are the ones who have at any time peace of mind
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Eating Disorder?
eating disorder, or is it?
it's eat or be eaten, you can't miss it,
that's the order of the disorder, border to border,
you're hooked to a food chain, hooked on a food train.
you come into this world, cut from a chord,
made from food, your overlord,
As decades roll by, food becomes you,
because you got to refuel to do what you do.
so you keep eating till you die,
(you just couldn't stay away from that last french fry,)
But don't you worry about who, what and why,
it's the cosmic menu, so don't cry.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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The Curse Of The Greedy Gentlemen
Once there was a man that came into a Chinese store, the man asked for his food but when it arrived never thanked his waiter.2Never grateful of anything the gentlemen tasted the food that was served to him and spat it out in disgust. He then got his food and throw it upon the waiters face.4He explain that it was the worst food he had ever tasted in his life. The man, now filled with rage, cursed the gentleman to forever eat the food until he was as big as a house, and not to stop until he felt the pain from dieing from obesity.6So the man stormed out of the restaurant and when back to his home. When he had awakened the next day he had memory for the previous day but still went back to the same restaurant, and this time instead of eating the food and stopping the complain he kept eating, and eating, until he died of obesity in that very restaurant.8The man then arose and repeated his day of dieing from obesity, and again, and again. The man tried to apologize for his actions but it was to late, he was doomed forever to keep eating everyday, to feel the same pain every time, and to dieing each day, because of this ungratefulness.10For as the old saying goes: "Those who are grateful are those who show love, and those who show love are those who live long lives, and those who live long lives are never greedy."
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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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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Musing on mortality
Musing on mortality.
Though we all start on equal terms
Your life experience will affirm.
All finish up as food for worms.
Some will win whilst others lose
We have no choice we can’t refuse
All finish up as food for worms.
Although we strive to stay alive
By any means we can contrive.
All finish up as food for worms
Some settle for cremation
An act of desperation.
All finish up as food for worms
Although the ashes are broadcast
They mingle with the soil at last.
All finish up as food for worms
That is the way it’s meant to be.
There is no doubt eventually.
All finish up as food for worms
The only true equality
Is found within the cemetery
ALL FINISH UP AS FOOD FOR WORMS.
SUNDAY,11 DECEMBER 2011
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Unwanted Food
Eating sausages needing more salt
Planes rumble from up above
Refrigerator does not work
Cooling is secondary for food
Eyes are huge when morsels come
Oblivious to words of warning
Songs emit when eating quickly
Joyful bliss, comments over bound
Listening to snap, crackle, and pop
Eating away, feeling explosive
Food plows inside, too much
Sounds make for unbalanced head
Legs crossed, poor feelings falling
Down, down, down the ground holds
The butt, hitting rock bottom
And the meal bleeds out the body
Showing the food feels unwanted
Never wanted to be eaten again
poem by Russell Sivey
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When I Think Of Myself As Dead
WHEN I THINK OF MYSELF AS DEAD
When I think of myself as dead
I think of what it will mean for my loved ones
I pray they will not lose heart and hope because of it-
When my father died my brother lost hope-
When I think of myself dead
I wonder about God and God�s purpose
Is there really an afterlife?
What could it mean?
Will I meet again those who have gone before me?
When I think of myself dead
I think about a body in the ground
Worms eating it, cold paining it-
When I think of myself as dead
I think about never feeling anything again-
When I think about myself as dead
I think about the work I have left behind
And whether it will mean anything to anyone
And for how long-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of all the memories that will go with me
I think about nothing and more nothing and the end of the universe-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of life going on down below
Life with all its beauty and pain
And I pray and I pray again
My loved ones will be able to manage and make their own lives still happy
When I think of myself as dead
I pray to G-d
That somehow in some way
It will not be the end for me forever.
When I think of myself as dead
I think of myself as living again somehow
In a way I cannot now know-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Saturday Night in Dill City
We had a night I’d like to tell about
Consisting of an extraordinary meal
The food was simply delicious
With a down-home country feel
The place in which I ordered my food
It was one it’d never have expected
It was at the Fire Extinguisher
I was not even really directed
The food was oh, so scrumptious
Hamburger steak cooked on the grill
Caramelized onions plopped on top
I can taste that flavor still
Crispy fries and freshly made salad
With dressing fit for a king
Perfect for a party
Or out for a Saturday night fling
Yes, we had a wonderful time
If we hadn’t it would have been a pity
But we did find this restaurant on
Saturday night in Dill City
poem by Marilyn Lott
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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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Days of Darkness
Rats
In their thousands
creeping over the desolate land
scouring for food - for life
The stench was sickening
The sky black, thickening
so no light passed through
Ants
In their millions
crawling through the empty houses
looking for crumbs - anything
dead bodies all over
or writhing in pain
as the skies darken again
Humans
In their hundreds
Staggering through the empty streets
In their hunt for companionship - and food
cursing their predators
Dead or dying from pain
As the whole earth dies.
1979
poem by Penni Currie
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Appetite
It is appetizing, the meal is appetizing,
I consumed a mighty warrior of steel.
My concession was plain, just give me food
So I give you a meal, food for two now.
The concert repeats, I laugh and cry forever,
But still I smile and giggle with dizziness.
The groups of people look like apes with food,
The two of us are fed, what of the rest of us?
My appetite is satisfied, but your meal surrounds
And loves me, like two of us in the middle of feeding.
poem by Naveed Akram
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