My Hungry Belly
MY HUNGRY BELLY
Melvin Banggollay
I write this to once more in memory
refresh my mind of my past history
To inspire those now living in poverty
to have hope to be out of such malady.
When I was a kid I always have a belly
Hungry for food for my father's salary
Was not really enough to feed our family
Though he worked so hard everyday.
He always told me, be patient buddy
God is not sleeping to show us the way
To feed you well to have no hungry belly
if we work and trust in Him faithfully.
When I was in the college, I often envy
My board mate to have eaten well daily
While I lament for I felt that my dear belly
was pulling my intestine without mercy.
As I felt dizzy for I have not eaten a day
I laid in my bed and tearfully asked mercy
For God to touch my aching hungry belly
and fill it with food to keep me alive today.
Then I felt aslept and dreamt of my daddy
Working so hard to support my study
Saying to me, 'son, just be patient today
but do your best, you'll eat all someday'.
I woke up and drunk water for I was thirsty
As if I traveled far to reach my destiny
but deep in my heart, I thank my daddy
for inspiring me sail even in my fantasy.
Then a friend who encouraged me
to join in their evangelical ministry
Sharing God's wisdom to the needy
Gave me a gift, a penny for my belly
That until today I have not repay.
But I vow to share that gift to anybody
to the forgotten, the poor and the needy
For what profit a man If he has so many
But can't have the light of eternally glory.
Poverty inspired me to excel in my study
As my father always told to me repeatedly
'Only your education be my only legacy
I can ever give to arm you to fight poverty'.
With God''s grace, I finished my degree
In spite having sailed with hungry belly
And when my parents saw me on the day
I took my diploma, tears of their joy I see.
Now that I could earned much for my family
I promised not to let any of my children envy
their board mate who can eat well everyday
but them to be sharing food for the needy.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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Related quotes
For My Dog Amber Who Died A Year Ago
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino
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Belly rub
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Infancy determines you
Every human strives
To feed its belly, ego and sex,
In that order in his infancy.
Those short-fed thence
Would drive one ever since,
For its fulfillment,
Through out one’s life.
A leader is ego thirsty.
A lecher is sex hungry.
A greedy is food hungry.
15.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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On Poverty..
How will the poor man raise his voice,
Without food in his belly?
He is willing to work,
But wishes he had the energy.
Like many things in this universe,
This cycle too has been reversed.
He will have to become someone,
So as to feed his belly.
He will have to ignore his hunger,
If food he wants to see.
poem by Sameer Daniel Gardner
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My Father's Legacy To Me
MY FATHER'S LEGACY
mELVIN BANGGOLLAY
Everyone of us when gone has a legacy
That people remember in one's memory
Just like my Father who joined the Almighty
Leave me a token of his great personality.
My father sacrificed for my dear education
In spite of poverty he gave all the provision
I need to finish my degree and profession
Without any complain or simple hesitation
My father never wanted us to walk his way
Only to finished even just a lowest degree
For he didn't want us to suffer so heavily
The burden of being a child of great poverty.
My father had to work as a student janitor
Cleaning, sweeping and doing other chore
In exchange for a free tuition from the school
Where he graduated with citation and honor.
He showed that poverty is not a malady
When we are truly convicted to be somebody
When we desire to make life better everyday
and when we dream to have a better destiny.
He taught me to be always humble to others
Specially before God who protect us from curse
For those who humble themselves have reward
Not maybe in our earthly world but there above.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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The Nomad Is Hungry Part 2
As the temperature start to cool down.
Wandering on the streets, as my belly start to hurt.
I'm hungry! Where am I going to get some food at!
Having lent ball's in my pocket.Did'nt hace any money.
Pasting by, all type of restaurant.As belly kept turning.
For a minute! I thought about going inside.
But, I knew they won't serve me any food.
As I got to the corner.I headed to the alley.
Having eager desire to jump into the trash-can.
As I search for some some food.Thany you, Lord!
I needed all this food.Man! 'I do surely stink....'
Coming Soon!
'The Nomad need to bathe.'
poem by Derrick Clark
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The hungry belly and the full belly do not walk the same road.
Them Belly Full
Na-na na na-na na na na;
Na-na na na-na na na na;
Na-na na na-na na na na;
Na-na na na-na na na na.
Them belly full, but we hungry;
A hungry mob is a angry mob.
A rain a-fall, but the dirt it tough;
A yot a-yook, but d' yood no 'nough.
You're gonna dance to jah music, dance;
We're gonna dance to jah music, dance, oh-ooh!
Forget your troubles and dance!
Forget your sorrows and dance!
Forget your sickness and dance!
Forget your weakness and dance!
Cost of livin' gets so high,
Rich and poor they start to cry:
Now the weak must get strong;
They say, "oh, what a tribulation!"
Them belly full, but we hungry;
A hungry mob is a angry mob.
A rain a-fall, but the dirt it tough;
A pot a-yook, but d' yood* no 'nough.
We're gonna chuck to jah music - chuckin';
We're chuckin' to jah music - we're chuckin'.
---
/guitar solo/
---
A belly full, but them hungry;
A hungry mob is a angry mob.
A rain a-fall, but the dirt it tough;
A pot a-cook, but d' food* no 'nough.
A hungry man is a angry man;
A rain a-fall, but the dirt it tough;
A pot a-yook, but you no 'nough'
A rain a-fall, but the dirt it tough.
A pot a-cook, but you no 'nough;
A hungry mob is a angry mob;
A hungry mob is a angry mob. /fadeout/
[* sheet music gives this line as: "a pot a cook but you no' nough".]
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Touch Your Belly
When I touch your belly tears of amazement run down my eyes.
I am so amazed that inside your womb a life lies.
A child that was created all from our love;
God, I can’t believe that in a few weeks you’ll give birth to our miracle of love.
When I touch your belly with my ear;
I can’t believe the heart beat I hear.
It like a little drum beating a message to me;
In the sounds of the beat I swear our child is saying hi daddy.
When I touch your belly I caressing you as well as our child;
I’m caressing you to say thank you for carrying our child.
I could not have chosen a better mother then you.
These are all the things I’m saying when I touch your belly.
My Gift To Melvon
MY GIFT TO MELVON
(OCTOBER 3,2000)
melvin Banggollay
Thank you Lord for this day
So blessed like this new day
With the grace of your mercy
and great love to my family
Today, is my Melvon's day
who sung so laud everyday
whose voice is like a thunder
echoing with joyful laughter
Well, I have no gift to give
like toys you want me to give
but deep inside I always pray
for your safety everyday.
Sorry if its only an embrace
with endless love and grace
I can give to you as my gift
to protect you from any rift.
Son, I wish you'll always be
goodboy and not be naughty;
Keep thy faith growing strong
to God even times be wrong.
Study hard with all patience
that you can have the ambience
of a life I dreamt for you to see
but always pray God's mercy.
Happy birthday son and
May the Lord bless you
with good health, good life
everyday......
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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You Feel That The World Is Against You
You feel that the World is against you and nothing for you is going right
And you struggle just for to make ends meet and life is a hard uphill fight
But than you there are far worse off people though you do not see things that way
In Rwanda a Country in Africa teenagers to support their families work today.
Their parents by war taken from them and the eldest members of the family
Must work for to support their younger siblings they only know of poverty
In our society you may seem a poor man but poverty one can compare
And in the eyes of a Rwandan you would be a multi billionaire.
On five hundred dollars a week take home pay you support your two young children and your wife
As well as buy food, pay bills and the mortgage you do know about the hard life
In this Land they call you a battler you struggle just for to get by
Though the millions of battlers of Rwanda would say that the good life you enjoy.
You feel the whole World is against you a poor fellow on a poor street
But your fridge of food never empty and you and your family
have plenty to eat
And the hungry poor of Rwanda with you only would disagree
They would see you as a wealthy person for they know of extreme poverty
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poverty In The 21st Century
It’s the 21st century
The media displays it day and night,
Poverty.
Poverty across the globe lies
Poverty cries out from the belly of little boys
Little girls, parents too
Desperately searching for food,
Shelter, clothing, for love,
Companion, for attention
Those with plenty, refuse
To amend, a world haunted by
Poverty.
Is poverty affecting the rich?
Are their poverty the same
As the poor in financial constrains?
For they, too, poverty of love
I see poverty in the learned
I see poverty in those whose
Selfish acts are destroying society.
I see poverty in all level of humanity
The world is still an imperfect place
Yet life is still beautiful, the wind
Blows, we see it not, give thanks
For what you possess, now go,
Help if you can along the way,
Help to eradicate poverty
In your surrounding, widen
Your boundary across your
Country, to nations of the world.
Help to fight poverty, now!
poem by Winston Harding
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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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Crisis In Our Economy
CRISIS IN OUR ECONOMY
Melvin Banggollay
C-risis in our economy
bellowing like the sea
put many in jeopardy
even government entity.
R-ise of oil prices everyday
put the world's economy
in the brink of ambiguity
putting many in poverty.
I-nvestment cost is heavy
as few can afford today
to create their own entity
for economic prosperity.
S-top curruption in any way
like stealing people's money
through ghost project today
by politicians of no dignity.
I-nstitute in our laws and policy
Currupting government money
is punishable by death penalty
even just by a single penny.
S-haring of wealth for the needy
be a motto of those somebody
like the rich and powerful family
can save many to die in poverty.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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Many Must Grow Poorer
Millions will go to bed hungry tonight that does seem sad to say
And many of them will not wake again for to see another day
The sad fact that many die of malnutrition is sad cause for lament
Whilst billions in war by Governments are spent
Even in the World's wealthiest Nations people live in abject poverty
And the unequal distribution of wealth does seem all wrong to me
The wealthy getting wealthier whilst the homeless of poverty street
Are searching in the rubbish for thrown out food to eat
To have enough of food and shelter should be a basic human right
But millions must try to sleep hungry without shelter tonight
And many cannot feed their families on their meagre take home pay
In an egalatarian World things would never be this way
And many must grow poorer for every new millionaire
And for the hungry millions doesn't life seem so unfair.
poem by Francis Duggan
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So Many Poor Souls And Not Many Who Care
So many poor souls and not many who care
Are doing it quite tough in the big World out there
The homeless and hungry teenagers of poverty street
Are searching in rubbish bins for something to eat
The gap is increasing in the social divide
And millions are Stateless and Homeless and hungry World wide
The victims of droughts and wars and disease
In the refugee camps millions of refugees.
The marginalized are doing it quite tough
On poverty street they are sleeping rough
People should not have to go hungry in the World of today
But such is not the case that does seem sad to say
For one wealthy person thousands in poverty
Those who need far more than words of sympathy
People who look old before they reach their life's prime
To be born to poor parents is their only crime.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Antipop
The Earth it did crack open
on the day that I was born
and a thousand merry pranksters
came dancin' through the storm.
I lay cradle bound
a howlin' out my mind
not knowin' years to come
I'd be shoutin' over din
I sucked information through the holes in my skull
as my belly gurgles hungry my mouth is always full.
I am Antipop; I'll run against the grain till the day I drop.
I am the Antipop; the man you cannot stop.
As a young man,
I plug into the tube,
but the stench of all that pretense
I cannot muddle through.
I lay on my back
and scan the radio
all that comes out my speakers
is a steady syrup flow.
I suck information through the holes in my skull
as my belly gurgles hungry my mouth is always full.
I stood by watching
and I seen 'em come and go.
I seen 'em make that million
then vanish in the snow.
They come upon you
like a pack of rabid hounds
as they slobber in your ears
and purge you with their sounds.
Pushing misinformation through the holes in my skull
my belly gurgles nauseous and still my mouth is full.
I am Antipop; I'll run against the grain till the day I drop.
I am the Antipop; the man you cannot stop.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gymnast
A crash influences a gym of brains,
Guzzling food and guzzling drink;
The crash is certain and weak for me,
For I force the laughter of the years
Tonight as if blocks have collided into
My belly, forming bruises and wounds
That never desist growing everyday.
A gym of brains wets my belly
With flowing natural water and blood
That enters the system forever in reply.
One gymnast made it slowly to the vault
And fell over backwards to achieve
The desired result. Once she finished
The audience cheered and speculated.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Humble In Tumble
This television got me feeling kind of egotistical
my age got me seeing kind of cynical
Myu honesty got me trapped in being physical
Not to say that this is biblical
but I hope it brightens pivotal
Proof that I am not completely spiritual
is not found it the fact that this is lyrical
keep me humble in my tumple when you hear my belly grumble
I pray i stay without myself
i want the thing I knew I felt
held liable everytime i yell
need a verse to ring a bell
Just looking for a story to tell
Keep me humble in my tumble when you hear my belly grumble
Dont let me cause you to stumble
Know theres something more
Know its not your store
love the life you live
Embrace the thought you give
But know its all a gift
DO what makes your soul shift
Keep me humble in my tumble when you hear my belly grumble
poem by Andrew Reeves
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Poverty Land
Looking for solutions
For a problem centuries old
Searching every avenue
My feet are still cold
The benefits of unemployment
Leaves me hungry everyday
It’s hard to find a job
But it’s more difficult to stay
Must feed the family anyway I can
Society has me cornered
I’m in poverty land
Praying for the wisdom
To guide me through the rain
The courage to continue
Ignore the grief and pain
The prospects of employment
Seems to dwindle everyday
It’s hard to draw a budget
But it’s more difficult to pay
They’ve seem to have forgotten
The pride within a man
Time has come, I must rebel
And take a militant stand
For society has me cornered
I’m in poverty land
poem by Mustafa Marconi
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