you make me ungodly
i crave you above all else
like nosferatu
confined to an eternal bloodlust,
hungry for your love.

A beautiful sun shines through a palm's canopy
And casts a shadow over your beach retreat.
Sitting in a lounge chair with a rumrunner in hand,
It's easy to pretend people don't get murdered here.

Now it's nighttime and the city shines alive with neon
As countless youth hop from club to club looking for fun.
Walking down the boulevard while you take in the sights,
It's easy to forget the projects you passed to get here.

The next morning starts with a hefty hangover
And ends with a delicious bandeja paisa.
You've never had such exotically good food in your life,
Yet it's easy to ignore the famished begging on the streets here.

So the next time you visit
And feel all of your problems leave you,
Remember that your tourist dollars help keep our paradise
One fit for a fool.

Hungry.

In the silence,
of this afternoon,
they arrive, ready
to feed children who wait
in nest high above.
Their high whistle dancing,
pierces the soundscape
These mejiros--yellow with sharp white eyes,
Comb through hibiscus bush
Finding a meal
Hidden within
Like  parrotfish
Munching through coral reef,

I sit under tree listening,

Abruptly
The seashells to my mind
Fill with shrill sounds
Of mothers scolding monsters,
A quickening--
Their white eyes dart like fearful
squid flying through
brushy undercurrents.
Underneath,
The small lion cat
Stalks the
Hungry sounds
In the bush

the Hungry looking for Hungry

There was a mother of goat
She had three kinder
She ordered them in hardness matter
"Don't ever and ever open the door under

Any raison
Even one says she is your mother
Wants to tell or has an order"
They all agreed and she went for work
There was a stranger

Passed by the neighbor
He was the greed bear
He said to himself in whisper
As he heard the kinder playing at higher

Voice reflecting their cheer
,"these must be fat
I will eat and lost my hunger"
He watched the home three days with great hear
He heard the mother telling that order
After the mother went, he went there

He knocked the door
When one answered in clear
He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"
The first believe that

The first forgot the order
He opened the door at fast
The bear was so hunger
He took him out and ate at faster
When the mother returned

She found them had decreased
When she was learnt
She cried a lot
On the following day, she ordered

When she went, the greed bear came at fast
The door was knocked
He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"

The second believe that
The second forgot the order
He opened the door at fast
The bear was so hunger

He took him out and ate at faster
When the mother returned
She found them had decreased
When she asked

She cried a lot
On the following day, she ordered
When she went the greed bear came at fast
The door was knocked

He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"
The third did not believe that
He ordered him to stretch his hand

The bear forget the difference between his hand
And the shape of the goat's hand
The small goat said,"
Wait to get your hand kissed"

He got a rope that was a strong
And tided his with the stable rod
The small kid called all neighbor
While the bear screamed, mercy asked

His mother was attended
The bear was so hurt
The mother stroke his trunk
The swollen kinder were out

They were so sorry
They apologized to their omission
They said," we learnt a lesson
We will not forget forever"
Obey your mother

Obey your father
They knew more, more
They have more experience
And know which intelligence is

And which is carrying the worse

I say nothing is heavier
then it’s fifteen to ten
pounds,
as I stuff it in
a backpack
for carrying
to stare at the air
of deep despair
there in.

Photo after photo
clicking and clacking
with predatory pain
that is ready to claim
my comfort,
ready to strain
this tired brain
with the terror
of its truths.

After days
of lugging it around
I have found
the one thing heavier
is the horror
of enlightenment
that resides
behind the page.

The way
it burrows
within
my skin
to the source
of my emotions
and makes me feel
something more
for the suffering
children
who are starving,
the poverty stricken
oppressed by
wars of hate, and greed,
wars that partially stem
from various religions.

Is it the caffeine
or the hunger that’s keeping
me up every night?

The Man

I was thirsty; he gave no help.
Thence I kept no book on my shelf.
All ocean he wanted to gulp
And keep rest of them to himself.

S. Bharat