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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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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My Heart Bleeds (98)
I fancy I can hear the sufferers moaning
The starving woman and the dying man
The malnourished children with the hunger blown pot bellies
My heart bleeds for the people of Sudan.
But these people they need far more than sympathy
They need food and care and medicine right away
They have eaten the seeds that they had to be planted
And hundreds die of hunger every day.
For life's small blessings I ought to be thankful
For I am one who doesn't have cause for moan
Compared to many I feel very privileged
The pangs of hunger I have never known.
One of my neighbours never stops complaining
He grumbles by life he is hard done by
But he looks overweight from over eating
And of malnutrition he will never die.
And another I know he tried to take his own life
Because his girlfriend left him he is in despair
I feel more pity for those dying of hunger
For a broken heart is not beyond repair.
In a Land ravaged by disease drought and hunger
To live to thirty years seen as a lengthy span
And my sympathy is with the starving millions
The hungry and the homeless of Sudan.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Brave Mountaineers
Born in the country and I like that country smile
Of the little girls and boys, they remind me of a child
That I knew and a big harvest moon
That shon by suppertime in the dusty afternoon
And I need to be there
When the autumn wind goes whistlin through the trestle we would climb
Like brave mountaineers
We never were much bothered by time
Born in the country and I like that country song
We played for just a nickel every time we got to town
And I bought you a dime diamond ring
In the hayloft we would play, we were princesses and kings
And I need to be there
When the world gets too heavy and the shadows cross my mind
Like brave mountaineers
We never were much bothered by time
Born in the country and I like that country way
Of the uncles and the cousins and the card games they would play
While the young ones slept overhead
Beneath the quilts that mother made, when all the prayers were said
And I need to be there
When the autumn wind goes whistlin through the trestle we would climb
Like brave mountaineers
We never were much bothered by time
And I need to be there
When the world gets too heavy and the shadows cross my mind
Like brave mountaineers
We never were much bothered by time
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wishlist pt.3
I want
To see a smiling face
Among two groups of race
Poor nations keep pace
With leaders of the race
Keepers of the faith
To stop fighting over faith
Love to make haste
In its chase of hate
It’ll probably never happen before I’m gone
But my words will live on if you pass them along
And hear the message like you hear a gong
Whether you hit the courts or you hit a bong
No more kids’ bellies with hunger swollen
While politics spit game like Ryan Nolan
Iron foldin bright limestone huts
Lyin holdin ace high no luck
No bucks to help out all the needy
Free lunch to fatten up all the greedy
One more time for all the daft punks
You don’t get help if your wallet is shrunk
But most of all I must say I want peace
On Earth, in space, and in everyone’s lease
poem by P.R. Prosper
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Hunger
Children of Haiti feeling hunger,
Children of Haiti feeling thirst,
Bellies getting bloated
like they will burst.
Not enough food, not enough water
Eyes filled with sadness
on every son and daughter.
Children of rich ones feel no hunger,
children of rich ones feel no thirst.
Bellies are filled up
like they could burst.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Nigeria: The slumber
Nigeria, a people that suffer
A people that strive, a people that hunger
A people in a dark, deep and dangerous slumber
A people whose greed, ignorance and corruption linger
Whose deep wound heals on one side
but bleeds on the other
A people dragged into the mud
by those that arise from the mud
A people of democracy
A democracy of mediocrity
A democracy of evil greed
A democracy of rotten seed
A people of careless leadership
A people of spineless followership
Nigeria,
A plastic face
A prideless deep
A shameless she
Of salvage leaders
Nigeria, my country
Drowning in the pool of its blood
Spilled by its children
Nigeria, my country,
Moving in a circle
A cycle of religion
A cycle of tribe
A cycle of corruption
A cycle of destruction
Nigeria, my people
A people that suffer
A people that thirst
A people that hunger
A people in a deep, dark and dangerous slumber
A people whose light grows dimmer
Whose hope grows slimmer
Till eyes rise from the slumber
And greed appreciates hunger
And true voices shout like thunder
And willed feet stump and say no longer! !
Nigeria,
A people that suffer
A people that hunger
A people in a dark, deep and dangerous slumber….
poem by Andrew Ahile
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Hungry
I hunger
lying on my bed
in the shaded dark.
I hunger for you,
my stomach
wrenching
and I verge
on crying
the need so intense.
I roll
sideways
in the bed,
I flail
my arms
lift and slam them down
by my side
as I try to pound
that hunger away.
I hunger for you.
I need.
I walk to the bathroom
and peer at the face
to see what need looks like.
It is gaunt.
It is sleepy eyed.
it is unflattering.
I whirl away;
can't look.
and I sit
down
head in hand;
can't go back to bed
and can't continue to just sit.
I'm already back in the room
my hand on the phone.
It rings.
I say
'Oh nothing
I was just thinking about you.'
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Harvest For The World
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
When will there be a harvest for all the people
When will there be a harvest for all the world
Harvest For The World
All babies together, everyone a seed
Half of us are satisfied, half of us in need
Love's bountiful in us, tarnished by our greed
When will there be a harvest for the world
A nation planted, so concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, greater grows the pain
And far too many feelin' the strain
When will there be a harvest for the world
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
Gather everyone, gather all together
Overlooking none, hopin' life gets better 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
Nation after nation, turning into beast
When will there be a harvest for the world
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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He's Bothered Again!
Where are they?
Do they have him?
Will they know?
And troubled is he
Disturbed is he
Am I troubled?
How much bothered can his soul get?
Bothered about his own life
Bothered about bothering about his life
Bothered about wealth
Bothered about bothering about wealth
And weaker and weaker he is as the day go by
And worse still shall be his story
Because he is bothered about nature
And things in it
But he is never bothered about aiding nature
Or the things in it
Such person,
I am bothered about
Because he bothers to effect no change
And bothers that he hasn't effected a change
And why he did not effect any change
But not how he could effect such change
He also bothers about those who aren't bothered
He bothers for them
His stupidity is the source of their livelihood
He bothers why they do not bother
He bothers about those who effect changes
He bothers how long it took for such change
He bothers the risk taken
He never bothers how they do it
But he bothers if they were a bandit
And everyday, he keeps bothering
And knows not that he bothers his life
And his health
And his sanity
But those who bother aren't stupid
Except if they bother like he does
poem by Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo
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Proletarian language is dictated by hunger. The poor chew words to fill their bellies.
quote by Theodor Adorno
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspired by Issa - Harvest Moonn
harvest moon -
the field flying
with broken stalks
harvest moon -
no more loud sighs
from the windy fields
harvest moon
thanksgiving incense
trails over fields
harvest moon
the garden echoes with plan
for the next season
inspired by
harvest moon-
some are stretched out
some praying
-Issa,1821
http: //cat.xula.edu/issa/
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A farmer does not boast that he has had a good harvest until his stock of yams lasts till the following harvest season.
What Matters Most Is Love And Peace
you keep on saying that
what matters most is love and peace
and then we manage to eke out
a living for ourselves
then what matters
is hunger
we listen to the sound
of our complaining bellies
asking for rice
and fish
because there is only water from the river
odored foul
by these dead mudfishes
now my dear
find me a place where i can sleep
where i can chant
my pleadings to our gods
so they may answer
our little complaints
love and peace you keep saying that
please prove that to me
on this hunger
and poverty
convince
me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Other Side of the Page
I pass to the other side of the page.
-Pablo Neruda
On the other side of the page
where the last days go,
where the lost poems go,
where the forgotten dreams
breaking up like morning fog
go
go
go
I am preparing myself for death.
I am teaching myself emptiness:
the gambler's hunger for love,
the nun's hunger for God,
the child's hunger for chocolate
in the brown hours
of the dark.
I am teaching myself love:
the lean love of marble
kissed away by rain,
the cold kisses of snow crystals
on granite grave markers,
the soul kisses of snow
as it melts in the spring.
On the other side of the page
I lie making a snow angel
with the arcs
of my arms.
I lie like a fallen skier
who never wants to get up.
I lie with my poles, my pens
flung around me in the snow
too far to reach.
The snow seeps
into the hollows of my bones
& the calcium white of the page
silts me in like a fossil.
I am fixed in my longing for speech,
I am buried in the snowbank of my poems,
I am here where you find me
dead
on the other side of the page.
poem by Erica Jong
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Looking East
Standing in the ocean with the sun burning low in the west
Like a fire in the cavernous darkness at the heart of the beast
With my beliefs and possessions, stopped at the frontier in my chest
At the edge of my country, my back to the sea, looking east
Where the search for the truth is conducted with a wink and a nod
And where power and position are equated with the grace of god
These times are famine for the soul while for the senses its a feast
From the edge of my country, as far as you see, looking east
Hunger in the midnight, hunger at the stroke of noon
Hunger in the mansion, hunger in the rented room
Hunger on the tv, hunger on the printed page
And theres a god-sized hunger underneath the laughing and the rage
In the absence of light
And the deepening night
Where I wait for the sun
Looking east
How long have I left my mind to the powers that be?
How long will it take to find the higher power moving in me?
Power in the insect
Power in the sea
Power in the snow falling silently
Power in the blossom
Power in the stone
Power in the song being sung alone
Power in the wheatfield
Power in the rain
Power in the sunlight and the hurricane
Power in the silence
Power in the flame
Power in the sound of the lovers name
The power of the sunrise and the power of a prayer released
On the edge of my country, I pray for the ones with the least
Hunger in the midnight, hunger at the stroke of noon
Hunger in the banquet, hunger in the bride and groom
Hunger on the tv, hunger on the printed page
And theres a god-sized hunger underneath the questions of the age
And an absence of light
In the deepening night
Where I wait for the sun
Looking east
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sick Times
And how shall we trace the
trajectory of a lungless scream
coming out of a slit throat?
Time was overrun by gnostic
resentment in absolute mind.
The fury of a gathering food riot:
do you hear the memorial rising,
rising –
on bones of hunger, swollen eyelids?
Soon they will meet on the bellies.
The fumigation starts, of lies
a bactericidal, to wipe out the germs
in dumb minds. The prognosis failed,
life moves in a tunnel, absent
and present!
poem by Satish Verma
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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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