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rk Apr 2
i once thought how easily
i could compare my love
to my eating disorder

sometimes i want all of you
to devour you hungrily
consuming you with greedy hands
only to exorcise you out
when i feel unworthy

other times it sneaks up on me
your name humming in the dark
leaving me starving
for nothing will satisfy but you

if only i could let myself
have a single taste
to press my teeth upon your heart
and feel your blood rising
to meet mine

then, once all i could taste was you
once you kissed every corner
of my honey soaked mouth
i would spit you out
before i could swallow you whole
before the hurt came
and ruined me entirely.
N Feb 10
Give me your
crimson mouth
to devour in secret

Help me put out
this burning desire–

All the unspeakable
things I hunger for

Be my muse,
so I can finish
writing this poem
Persephone Feb 1
Ah yes, love has a way of tasting differently when god birthed you hungry
George Krokos Jan 31
The birds in the backyard often look there for food
and it seems they're doing so lately in a happier mood;
it was just the other day when I mowed the grass
so now they can move easily over it again and pass.
Their activity is done habitually each and every day
and watching them closely seems as if they're at play.

They scrounge on the soil with their beaks and feet
competing at times for some bite and morsel to eat.
When disturbed by a sound they fly up into any tree
away from the threat of danger they scamper and flee.
A human presence would be enough to get them going
particularly when heading in their direction knowing.

It's a bit of a delight to see them at play in their quest
doing what they all have to do to survive hunger's test.
I used to feed them some crumbs on a regular basis
which became a habit for me to them as in an oasis.
Together with water left in a plastic bowl for a drink
they'd a few things going for them one would think.

It was only after the local cats caught onto the idea
with their basic instinct, that food or game, was near.
One of them would come around and hide in the grass
crouching there patiently for the right moment to pass;
if the birds were unaware they would fly down to eat
of the crumbs left for them so their hunger could beat.

The cat seizing on the opportunity then would by surprise
spring up and race after them as food or game in its eyes.
There would be a mad scramble and loud flutter of wings
as the birds, escaping from that danger a predator brings,
would scatter and fly away as fast as they could to where
they'd be relatively safe from the clutches of death there.

Sometimes when looking out the back window I'd see
a cat roaming in the backyard in the shadows of a tree;
this would be enough warning for me to raise the alarm
and get out to try and keep those local birds from harm.
I would do this by chasing the cat away over the fence
so the area would be clear again for the birds I'd sense.
Written in December, 2020
N Feb 1
In the dark
I write you a letter
hoping it would reach you

It starts like this:
My beloved,
I love you still

From afar,
but I still love you
as tenderly
as ardently
as ever

I hunger for you
as violently
as madly  
as ever

And I wait
Kole J McNeil Jan 17
A tourture that breaks and distorts my mind
Every calorie cafrefully chosen
Written in a journal
Every thing ive eaten since 8th grade
No breakfast
Running out the door a weitght in my stomach
No lunch
Drinking a monster
10 more calories than I need
Vaping in the bathroom
Dreaded dinner
I have to sit and eat with my family
No excuses
Work it off after dinner
Do I go there
Do I sit on the floor racking my lungs
I can feel the fat settle on my bones
Crying myself to sleep
I struggle majorly with my eating. I feel like a failure if i eat over 300 calories in a day
Madisen Kuhn Dec 2021
the poem i resist digs deeper into my chest like a buried soulmate. it grows blurry and distant until i can’t find the sharpness of it, but i can still taste how it made me feel. the feeling becomes a dull hunger. the distorted memory of a bite. still gnawing, lost, hopeful that i will give in to my undoing and gruesomely reveal the bloodied shadow of a bluff that has been called home. neither of us can sleep. my teeth ache. when the sky turns purple with torment, i end up in the woods, collecting feathers, consumed in the uncaging of a fire that will never catch
Karijinbba Sep 2021
in Tom Jones rocks on stage.
You rock bestest longest,
at Taj-Mahal peoney cave
I swear I only see you;
my rocking sensually!
lover rock dancing your
fifteen pumps into
our heavenly midsts
and back or make it last
****** fifteen times four
nutty Third Rate Romance
Rock me all night long.
lay I sip your willow tea
oh tea of me make too..
I'm in love with your mind
your syllhuette ink heart
Rock me at Ginny baby inn
I grant your every wish!

Oh sweet lover mine
conceived in sacred
temple paradisical womb
ruler king God's named you.
Crafted above endowed
in gold elastic generous thread,
the measure of your pride,
bestest among all kings,
amongst mortal men.
even Angels envy you.

Women sigh with just one look!
You walk a sway unique
istoic celibate you chase me
I'm sinner in your courts
my veil of chastity falters.
come fill my buttercup.
Loving you mornings long
days long the nights long.
my breakfast in bed you
I long for you.
my Tam Tam my base drum
glued to me evermore.
By; Karijinbba
@t Mr and Mrs Andrews
Hunger Sep 2021
My sweet release so sad and dark,
Was the start of the black fire that tiny spark,
Ignite my once weak soul,
The fire that burns me is what makes me whole,
I have become the pain,
My soul is no longer free to stain,
I am Greed,
I am Lust,
I am Hunger,
I am Malice,
I am Hate,
I am Wrath,
I am Envy,
I am Sorrow,
I take it all I breathe it in,
I am it and it is now within,
My soul shakes at what I have become,
But its now all said and done,
The monster I am now all may fear,
Till the day I die and disappear...
I am a caricature of humanity
- a picture of its seething bowels.

I am its sloshing,
quivering, yet wholly earnest intestines
made manifest - I am,
the inside-out freak show
we all crave
dancing before your eyes
oh, and what a feast of eloquent gizzards you witness!

Feast your eyes, my friends!

I am what you wish you weren't
yet know you could be
as you yearn to be as free as me
all your shame and volatile desires
all your sadness and madness
all your dreamful bliss
I profess it daily
in an ode to you, my fathers and mothers,
in an ode of love for absurdity,
I am the cartoon character made free of its stage
the puppet made free of its strings
the loon, made free of his rage,
a benign insanity,
not capable of harming a germ.

Don't pass by
by all means
it's my pleasure that you do so
breathe my callousness in
shudder at the thought of being so exposed
having all your human nature bleeding there
like my crying eyes
as I tell you of all my past loves
and how I still love them
even the meatloaf
still eating it
that baby towel
still snuggling it
that algebra homework?
Still completing it
and there's a missing grade somewhere
in a dusty book in a warehouse
how I'd creep in,
decades from now,
hours before my death,
open that tattered grade-book,
pen myself an A+ for my immaculately completed work
- fist pump the air!
Take that Ms. Cramsworth! I may not have beaten algebra,
but I beat you!

Die right there
in that warehouse
amongst all the other freaks.
There's Bigfoot, who slipped accidentally one day, got impaled by a branch, then called 911 - he had no health insurance, that's all she wrote. Bigfoot's just another disenfranchised-American statistic now. Bigfoot's last painful hours were spent taking selfies with holocaust deniers and people fashioning MAGA hats - some with rifles for effect - it was then Bigfoot regretted voting for Trump and only then. You were just rudely-awakened from having sympathy for Bigfoot, weren't you? Poor baby. Save our souls.
Then there are the cryogenically frozen heads of the Illuminati we're all worried about - they're trying to sleep until humanity can make them superhuman bodies.
A flying saucer that was alien in so far that it was actually a time-machine from our distant future that brought people back to warn us of an all-consuming genocidal calamity, but they spoke a language we didn't understand, had genetically surpassed us, and therefore were unrecognizable to our labs, and we took their highly-advanced babbling as acts of war when they tried to **** the Illuminati heads - killed them then, so tragic - ate their gizzards for research. Now we're all doomed to die... Their bodies were lain next to the Illuminati heads. Centuries later, the same couple, now janitors from the freak warehouse, see themselves, find the time-machine-saucer, and start the time-loop again... inadvertently causing the end of humanity because they messed up the timeline.

... and that's exactly why I never did my homework.
Humanity is doomed to die in some distant future caused by the doom-couple and so I refused to put a brick in the wall. I refused because all I was was a...nother brick in the wall and I hated it.

Because as fascinating as I am.
As absurd as I am.
As much of a human marvel as I am.
I don't matter. I matter the least.

And so that's why I had to die in that off-the-books warehouse,
full of priceless and unmentionable artifacts.
They wouldn't ever put me there, but I had to die with the legends.
I had to give my life meaning somehow.
If I can't live a legend, I will die one... by the way the janitors put me in the trash out back anyway.
I end up in an east-Asian landfill somewhere, kicked in the face by sweatshop kids who just so happened to make the sneakers on my very feet. Isn't that poetic justice? What a send-off!

And so isn't that all a satisfying and cathartic end,
giving closure to the most absurd poem,
with the most random details,
wasn't that fun?
Just have to bust out a mad-****** like this every once in a while.
Seems an important part of my writing process and growth, LOL.


Find me on Twitter @TheGreatWilson where I write most often these days :)
Come say hi!
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