"hungrier" poems
**All my life I’ve been searching for something more
Something missing; an emptiness down in my core
And I didn’t know what I was looking for**
Searching the Earth for to fill my need
Sloth and envy and pride, jealousy lust and greed
Money, popularity, status, possessions; the life I lead
**All my life I’ve been searching for something more
Something missing; an emptiness down in my core
And I didn’t find what I was looking for**
Looking for love in all the wrong places
Never one to stay for long in any case
Living life at a breakneck pace
**All my life I’ve been searching for something more
Something missing; an emptiness down in my core
And I couldn’t find what I was looking for**
Leaving me hungrier; wholly unsatisfied
Nothing helped. There wasn’t one thing I hadn’t tried
So elusive it was: true happiness and joy I was denied
**All my life I’ve been searching for something more
Something missing; an emptiness down in my core
But I wouldn’t find what I was looking for**
The world had nothing left for me; I gave up hope
And at the bottom of a very steep and slippery slope
Nowhere left to run and ready to die.
**All my life I’ve been searching for something more
Something missing; an emptiness down in my core
And I never found what I was looking for…**
Down to me came a rope. Taking that rope my life changed forever that day
The light in my dark, show me the right way
What happened I couldn’t really say.
**All my life I’ve been searching for something more
Something missing; an emptiness down in my core
And I might have found what I’ve been looking for**
I still fall and lose my way. God knows I’m not perfect
It’s a long hard road, but God believes I’m worth it
And I know you have a plan for me. Still not sure where I fit
**All my life I’ve been searching for something more
Something missing; an emptiness down in my core
And I think I found what I’ve been looking for**
Life giving water, sustaining bread, and solid ground
Love, joy, and peace. New life I see all around
What I’ve always been looking for, I’ve finally found
**All my life I’ve been searching for something more
Something missing; an emptiness down in my core
And I (Finally) found what I’m looking for!**
Thank You Jesus!
AMEN
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 11:59 AM UTC
Taste is my desire
what i eat doesnt matter
what i can offer to eat doesnt concern
i may be charge for millions but will taste it
i dont care who cant eat as long as i eat
no money can satify my hunger
no chef can verify my taste for food
i shall eat anything you serve
i dont care of the taste not the smell
as my stomach grumble i shall eat it
im always hungry always being stuffed
nor i can be full of what i eat
no one is hungrier but me
eat and drink i what i live
food is my first love
and wealth i shall spend for it
i am gluttony the undying hunger
i shall eat to satisfy but never full
i shall have everything edible
for my stomach needs more
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
Headless chickens running aimless toward the almighty dollar
Blindly staring at the knife"s stainless steel amidst all the squaller
My thirsty soul argues against my numb skull to hold a thorough audition
They lewdly feud about potential candidates accrued to search for recognition
They conclude on a suspicion they mutually feared as a result of blind ambition
Search preludes the admission, that I found my dream car with no keys for ignition
Don"t question authority especially when it's the majority
Everyone knows the world is flat and let's just leave it at that
I bought water from you now I have ice to sell
I have a great story but no one worthy to tell
Hindsight should really be at least twenty fifteen
Because to admit we just don"t know is too obscene?
Blissful ignorance"s repugnant scent wafting through the cave
Mindless sheople"s chainlinked brains all dancing at the rave
Fire flickering Shadow puppets tastefully riding the next wave
Puppeteer wizard behind the curtain telling them how to behave
Misaligned redcoated frontline soldiers falsely labeled as brave
Life"s ironic conundrum puzzle, choosing which children to save
Diseased cement steadily drying in a world ever ready to pave
Hungrier than I"ve ever been, yet sickly devoid of things to crave
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 5:06 AM UTC
Does a wish even mean anything anymore?
It seems that people wish and wish and wish,
More each day and day and day.
But they don’t receive any of their wishes, just more days.
It seems like it’s impossible for a wish to come true anymore.
I’m sitting here in this room and I’m surrounded by is troubled memories.
All these troubled images and feelings.
I look up to the clock and it’s 11:10.
Oh, what a time to be alive.
Because I know in just one short minute,
One little minute,
One rapidly approaching minute,
It will be 11:11.
And that minute seems to last forever.
It is in that minute that the dreamers and the believers and the prayers,
They all become the wishers.
They all wish for better jobs, or better cars, or better tomorrows.
But sadly, no one ever told them that tomorrow never comes.
Tomorrow is just a day away.
But tomorrow will never be here because when you get there it’s Today.
Tomorrow is such a strange thing.
But yet so many people wish for the pain to cease, tomorrow.
For the girl or guy to like us back, tomorrow.
We all wish to find a million dollars on the ground, tomorrow.
We wish, we wish, we wish.
In that minute at 11:11, we spend a lifetime wishing for something that we know we NEED.
We don’t WANT a new car, we NEED one to get to the store to buy groceries for our children.
We don’t WANT that other person to like us back, we NEED them to because we need a hand to hold, lips to kiss, and a shoulder to cry on.
We don’t WANT to find money on the ground, we NEED to because we’re running out of money to pay the bills, money to pay the rent, and money to live.
We don’t wish for things we WANT, we wish for things we NEED.
We need comfort.
We need happiness to come and see the way we’ve been living.
And for it to say “This person needs me.”
I wish we all had our wishes, oh that is what I wish.
Some people look at wishing as Child’s Play.
But I look at it as a lost art that has become unrecognized.
Because there are so many people in the World,
Wishing for a heart that needs healed.
A hand that needs held.
And for stars they need to show so they may keep wishing upon them.
Sometimes, when we wish for a better day, we get a terrible one.
When we wish for more food, we go hungrier.
When we wish for riches, we receive rags.
When we wish for love, we find hate.
Happiness, we find pain.
White, we find grey.
And sometimes we wish for the day but we find the night.
And if it was all up to me, a wish would come true for me and you.
Wishes would be like horses, and gallop toward prosperity.
Those wishes would be like spaceships, and fly to unknown places.
And they would save everyone with good graces.
Wishes would be like cars.
They’d travel oh so far.
Wishes would be like airplanes.
And probably do something that rhymes with airplanes.
Those wishes would save our souls.
Those wishes would make the World whole.
I wish everyone who wishes wishes would have their wishes come true.
I wish pain would turn into serendipity.
Sadness would turn into happiness.
I wish the World would be whole once again.
I would wish for a better today and to never see tomorrow if all it holds is pain.
I’d wish the whole World would be happy again,
And I’d wish you all the best,
But sadly, it’s now 11:12.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 9:39 PM UTC
The human appetite
To **** the pain
to not experience any
dis-
comfort
The human appetite
to run a-way
far, away
are
seeds planted from our
footsteps
The more we run
the bigger the
plant
the hungrier
we get
the greater the ruin
in our run
Don't avoid
the burdens of
engaging lost plans,
or others.
Other Wise, the human
starves its self
in a marathon
by sealing off mouths.
Alimentary,
Leaving one, you, her, they,
them, in the
hunger cycle
to feed
then crushed
left void
Elementary words
don't avoid
pain.
It requires a handshake
a' la carte,
Indulge.
remedy is in
the crash diet.
Come home now.
It's time for dinner.
Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 10:40 PM UTC
Each of you.
My individual singularities, Dad’s One Thing.
Conceived 1955.
Driven home, progeny, made man, unequivocal, indisputable.
Post-war night spirits undaunted ~ stop ******* me.
*** for you, stopped me.
Can’t make it the way you want. Please stop.
Backing off, I respect real you.
Don’t push me Me.
Don’t dream.
Will dream us.
Short sentence for guilt whisked way beyond what crime could be.
We combine beans and seeds and gourds.
That’s science! Culinary!
Botany, true, but I’m enaturated.
Human pod progressed.
If that’s a word, don’t dream it’s not.
Forget every word.
But make each and every word count.
Then add stash, socked away.
I concede.
Mi casa su casa.
Paint it.
Together.
Made mistake then fixed it.
Copasetic dovetails, my lady and me (not I).
We walk talk island jib.
I like the cut of your yar across the moonlit pool.
Go around with me to all haunts, snow globetrotting shaken not stirred
My déjà vu in futurum videre, I can’t believe.
Asunder goddesses should be together,
While Isis and Osiris boogie like Beatrice and Dante encircled,
Their own private imbroglio invaded
By Goth end time alchemists conjuring copyrights for gelt.
You tell me this short story.
I cringe.
My mind clouds men’s, and then conjures Morpheus.
My shadow child joins me in Paradise,
Deliria dancing in concert with Shakespearean intent.
My daughter’s got more guts in one pinky
Than all that fallen pilot on our island bargained for
In the games that decided who’s hungrier.
You could have been that gal.
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 12:21 AM UTC
I feel it is weird when the guy you like sits right next to you in class
Even when he knows you like him
And he rejected you
I feel it is weird when you love art with your entire heart and soul
But you can't even draw stick people
With straight lines
I feel it is weird when you miss someone
Who has hurt you more
Than anyone before
I think it is weird when someone complains about everything
But refuses to do anything
To change their situation
I think it is weird when people get depressed in movies
They always read more books
I watch movies
I think it is weird that I can look in the mirror in the morning
But I can not keep doing that
As the day goes on
I think it is weird that some people are so nice
Even after you discover their lies
Still trying to cover them up
I think it is weird that the hungrier people get
The angrier they get
But I get happy
I think it is weird
Because it is weird.
Weird.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
I woke up this morning and felt like doing some cutting
Just for the heck of it.
I didn't, if only because I had no reason
I had no time
I made two promises,
And with them, I never lie.
Got up, dressed, finished a project due by 2:30
Before school starts my brother comes down
Scale in hand, telling me to get on so he can see if he weighs more
Always wanting to be taller, weigh more
So I can be his 'little sister'
I sigh, step on. Expecting my usual of 90-92
86
Freak out mode: on.
I forgot to eat properly over the last 24 hours, maybe that's it
I only got 5 hours of sleep the last 2 nights, maybe that's it
I've been really stressed by school, maybe that's it
Almost time to go and somehow I still can't eat, I don't want to.
I need to though.
Let me explain this: I normally weigh about 92 pounds
95 is what I should weigh
I need to gain weight anyway, but high metabolisms don't like that
So usually I am 3 pounds underweight
Today it was about 10.
Go to school, should eat but don't want to
Standing, waiting, anticipating what?
Hand my friend three cookies, I tell the group my problem
One cookie handed back(other two previously eaten)
Told to eat by four friends, too hard to explain why I can't eat
Numerous reminders to eat
Lunch: I'm handed some chicken nuggets, ice cream
Half jokingly threatened that I won't be talked to unless I eat
Begged to eat
Strangely: I have no such desire
I have minimal amounts of body fat(less than 10 percent)
But even so, I can feel weight missing,
The absence of my already flat belly, surreal to think about
I still don't feel like eating, not really hungry
No other explanation
Friend tells me to pig out when I get home
Quiz bowl after school and I'm only ever so slightly hungry
But not much
A friend steals my gym shoes, mom comes
At home I eat some butter and honeyed toast, tea, candied ginger, half a thing of crackers
Report to friend # 2 who then proceeds to command me to eat more, and interrogates on why I'm not eating
Tell friend # 1 as well, his approval expressed
Dinner and afterwards I only feel hungrier... so strange.
I check the scale again
89
Better, but still too low.
I need to work on this...
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
I follow your eyes,
As a traveler follows his compass;
Cruising through the tides
Searching for the enormous.
He began the journey,
Thanks to his wanderlust,
Mine, chanced on being scorny…
I count on being the last!
Twists and turns adorned the track,
I scolded them
As my thoughts went scavenging a snack
Right on the hem.
She boasted her 120kmphs,
I could only smile.
Didn’t she see me at all?
Where I was all this while!
They sprang from both sides,
Adoring her fair
How could she even see through,
The symmetry worth a care!
You caught the wind,
As a kite fluttering, does
Eyes closed, lashes twined,
You smile contagious!
Careless you were,
As I asked for the plan,
Grooving in slow motion,
Ignoring even a sun-tan…
Now I wonder if
The windows are open,
My thoughts are shy, they can’t shout
Wanting to collide with yours out!
You went out,
Telling me to imagine,
Since, my pen’s been my spoon…
Even as I went on to dine.
Someday I will drive,
Or just stare at you, driving,
Unless you have your lovelocks
For your face-hiding!
And sing to each other,
Some songs as rhymes,
Check out on the trees afar
If even a single bird thrives.
Eat terrible food,
Feeling them to be tastier,
Laugh quite like insanes,
Hoping to feel hungrier.
Unending roads with us meeting,
Breaking into a jig
Again and again, as
Mirth and joy go on knitting.
Light or dark,
I really don’t care,
Go out with whosoever,
But won’t you stay true to me, dear?
I attempt to quiet my mind,
Caring not to look behind,
I promise, imaginations won’t be a hype
For, you are the roadtrip of my life…
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC
Another day of long hours ahead for me
Good morning gorgeous!
Read your full disclosure and I admire you even more.
Whoever said all creative people suffer from manic or
clinical depression was out of their minds because you don't.
You prove you don't need to be depressed to write.
Like the you don't smoke and you are no ******
You are careful what you put in your body
I know you don't do drugs.
The more I get to know about you the more the butterflies
in my stomach tell me I'm right.
You read that part right.
I still have butterflies when I think of you
but at the same time I feel at ease when we on net chat.
Big confession coming up.
I've always wanted someone like you in my life.
A woman who's gorgeous, highly intelligent, has her
**** together, doesn't cake on make up, has confidence,
loves herself and life, laughs at life and herself, doesn't bore
the hell out of me with drama and much more.
Quite frankly I've always wanted a woman
other women hate and she makes them feel insecure.
That's the woman that has confidence and can
enter a room alone without being self-conscious.
That's how I know you're the woman for me.
Your stalker has been freed but you are not in hiding
I commend you for taking your power back.
I'm guessing you are set to stand your ground if necessary.
I mentioned your name and they know of you
mainly from what they've heard from friends.
Hope you don't mind they did a Google search.
I didn't tell them we were dating it's how my parents are.
They can tell when I'm interested in a lady.
With your images on screen my dad agrees
with me. You are gorgeous!
My mom said "I haven't seen anything
that lovely in a long time!"
My folks have unprejudiced hearts like me
and yourself and would love meeting you.
Bringing them out to hear you when you
tell me you will be singing.
Hoping you will feel more at ease with my parents
sitting at the table and we finally have a real life
conversation longer than me telling
you how amazing your singing is.
Hope your meeting with your producer went well.
You venturing out in bad weather speaks volumes
about your dedication to what you do.
The more I know about you Betty Ponder
the hungrier I am to learn more.
I have no doubt you would never keep me
waiting for an hour for lack of something to wear.
.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
we’re the cool girls of this generation,
the ones with the words ‘i .cannot. give. a. ****
slashed across us in bold red,
the little lies we tell ourselves to go to bed,
instead of spending midnight hours strung on the edge
unable to seek behind or storm ahead.
the ones who fell asleep
to the sound of constant yelling, artillery shelling; bitter bullets exploding
into ugly bruises splattered across still skinny limbs,
shifting stories of anger and frustration, guilt and regret
expressed across inches of innocent skin;
the ones whose clothes were just a little bit frayed on the edges
the wear and tear of secret battles
fought behind sunset alleys,
behind midnight tea stalls
or on bright Sunday afternoons
at the bus stand,
desperately fighting hungry eyes and hungrier hands.
we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones with the
*red tips red lips
red ribs red wrists.*
we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones that house boys in our hearts and
smoke in our lungs,
the ones who spend way too much time inside their own head,
asking a hundred questions before every step in this game of wizarding chess that
never seems to slow down -
we’re the ones that can be found
wandering insomniac across sulphur-sodden streets,
wisps of distant wishes
settling into the foggy vestiges
of a high mind longing to soar higher.
we’re the cool girls of this generation
the one that are still allowed just the right rationing of
action emotion expression complication communication
while wearing a constant resting not-so-bitch face
head sorting information in a frenzied daze,
heart swinging between your fingers and a suitcase -
the ones with one foot in the present and
other parts traversing through parallel dimensions,
searching for a back up plan if your hearts refuse to allow us home;
the ones whose mouths became graveyards
for all the words that went unsaid,
for all the words to which we came undone,
for all times your eyes asked us questions that we shunned
we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones that belong to roads unknown and bodies untouched,
the ones that find stories in shipwrecked planks
that ride stormy oceans only to find homes
or perhaps even build them -
amidst the crumbling sand castles on the sea shore.
because we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones with the
*red tips red lips
red ribs red wrists.*
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
It’s Springtime.
The hours, the days pass quicker,
especially to folks already in their
late seventies, or eighties…
a cool breeze blowing easily brings
back good times, bringing smiles
to their wrinkled faces...to some,
rage and sorrow are resurrected,
recalling, how they lost loved ones,
all that they've had, through ways
unlawful, how they pined for truth,
justice, and freedom...time is too
slow for for them...some choose
to forget, but couldn't...
malfeasance is a habit, a way of life.
The privileged ones bask in the
brightest of comforts…impregnable
walls of their fortresses have made
them blind and deaf to the woes
and the doldrums outside.
The "unsolved" remain unsolved,
the "miserable" are now despondent,
the needy, the hungry, in greater
need...are even hungrier...drifting,
wherever their needs take them,
some minds have gotten used to
distorted versions of democracy,
existing on uncertain airs and waters.
Being bereft.......takes its toll.
Past awakenings were wasted.
eyes...minds opened, and closed.
those outside the walls, patiently
await...nothing is ever permanent.
sally b
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
February 18, 2023
-<O>-
OZYMANDIAS
(Percy Bysshe Shelley)
I met a traveller from an antique land,
2Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
3Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
4Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
5And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
6Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
7Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
8The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
9And on the pedestal, these words appear:
10My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
11Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
12Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
13Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
14The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Mar 14, 2023
Mar 14, 2023 at 8:41 PM UTC
stove juts out
stuns in sixty-year-old kitchen
shiny, electric,
everyone marvels
so much better than the gas stove
as if the functions are not the same.
I, misled, maybe
have no newfound love
for false hearths
and work dens masquerading as homes.
we never knew food
just kosher salt, pepper, ketchup
a dash of rosemary
yet our curves labored, steamed hours
heaped over knotted heels
at the end of the workday
you were so tired
and we ate whatever you could manage.
I desired to taste liberty,
imagined I had it on a slow burner
simmering with
coriander seeds, cumin, cinnamon
chili powder bleeding into broth
parsley finely cut
into slivers for garnish grew
dry in my hands,
waiting.
Somehow I ended up
back in that same kitchen
a dream at my lips,
hungrier than before.
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 8:23 AM UTC
I spend
hours
listening to
music
that no one
else likes.
I draw on myself:
my arms,my clothes are
covered in pen
When I younger,
I would eat the
junk food
my grandma gave me
when driving me home
from school.
I lied to my parents
about eating the food;
"No,Mom,
no,Dad,
I didn't eat
what Grandma gave
me."
I always lied to my parents
but they found out anyway
and they never believed me
again.
My sweetest addiction
is lies,
sugary fantasies
that never fill you up
The gluttony just makes you hungrier
for the
truth.
Today I am
an honest person,
but I still crave lies.
But
if I crave lies,
why do I also
want the
truth?
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
I’m sick of this electric energy
sub ways and motorcars
crumby rain and distraught smiles
empty faces gloom
shadows lurch and hang in dead air
untouched is the love that has collected dust
fallen into the synthetic mist
racing speeds
fast
fast
zoom
and then it ends…
I want that electric energy
To show its impurities
To become raw
To become real
***** braces and zit cream
backwards living and hand sanitizer
***** breast enlargements and diet pills
***** not smiling
Afraid to appear too forward
***** smiling because you’re afraid people will think you’re negative
Afraid…
Afraid of what?
Just hold onto yourself and do as you please
Simply because you enjoy It, because it sparks you on fire igniting your passions
Feel the rain
Let it fall onto your skin
Free of products
Free your skin from these creations
Made by man
Man craving more and more
Greed and hunger
Do not feed that man
Let him
Embrace
The level he is at
Let him learn to feel satisfaction
And how it works in opposition
The more you feed the hungrier you get
Let that rain penetrate deep inside of you
Notice the nature
The beauty
Close your eyes
And stop
Nothing is anything
And nothing is everything
Don’t be locked in chains your whole life
Only you hold the key
Forget the ideas
That made you feel
Anything but yourself
And remember
The wisdom you gained from hardships
Negativity is a sinking boat
Hold onto that flying power with positive thoughts and creations
Let your spirit soar high racing through the clouds let you become you
And please
Forget
That electric energy
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
In the distance
A light began to shine
Sitting on the porch
We waited curiously
A soft tap was heard
The tapping grew louder
As we exchanged glances
A lady’s voice called out to us
“Stop it” She yelled.
In the distance
The light grew brighter and hungrier
As quick as an engine roared to start
The roar just as quickly, came to a halt
Frustrated murmurs
Fists against glass
He wanted his keys
Leave her alone, please
I imagined the stench of his whiskey stained breath
As possible scenarios invaded my head
Was she safe? Was he drunk?
I asked these questions out loud
But I don’t remember any answers
Searching for them myself
I stumbled closer to the sound
Now she was screaming.
Don’t hurt me
Please don’t hurt me
There’s a baby
I had to help her.
Running back towards the group
No memory of talking to them
I’m sure that I did
I only remember
Gritting my teeth
Closing my eyes
Covering my ears
Trying to block out the sound
Her screams and cries for help
Slowly morphed and twisted
Into my brothers voice
His six year old voice
The tapping on the window
Became the rattling of a bunk bed
The woman’s screams and yelling
Became my baby brothers cries for help
I’ve gone backwards.
10 years.
It’s been three days since
I heard her yell
And three days since
his screams began
It’s been three hours since
I took the pill bottle
And three hours since
I put it down again
Jul 12, 2021
Jul 12, 2021 at 5:58 AM UTC
I watched you from afar,
knowing,
knowing about my curse,
I am forever married
to the other demons of the night.
I fight my urge,
the urge to
**** your life from you,
to make you all mine,
my slave
for my own personal delight,
forever.
You are so fine,
the prettiest specimen of womanhood
my eyes have ever seen,
you set my cold heart on fire.
To rob the world of such beauty,
such poetry in motion
for selfish reasons,
would be dire,
bring dishonor
to our entire league,
our league of
hnorable bloodsuckers.
It's just my luck,
to fall in love
with such a cutie,
makes me hungrier,
lust for you more.
O darling!
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
A twitch and a instant
she is awake
light peeks into the room
through a cracked window
She wipes at the tight skin
around the corner of her cheek
from where her drool dried
as she takes in this
Bleach Bypass World
There is a red infected
burn mark above her upper lip
must have tucked her hand
to her face with the lighter
still in it.
These things get harder to explain
Love it. Hate it.
Hate...that she loves it
He has more invested
Second nature, this style
of life
It was a hook up
A **** buddy
A mistress
One more for old times sake
A marriage
The monkey tattooed on his
left arm used to lead to laughs
Ironic
Literally feeding the monkey
The jokes are gone
But the monkey is
hungrier than ever.
He sees her across the room
She is crying and touching her lip
He hates her
She loves him
He loves her
She hates him
He hates himself
He picks up the lighter
from the floor next to the
**** smelling couch she is sitting on
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 7:20 AM UTC
I walk the same streets,
but I'm lost.
I talk to friends,
yet they are strangers.
I drink water,
yet I still thirst.
I eat,
but I get hungrier.
I see you,
but you're not there.
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
I’m hungrier lately, not because I never eat,
no, my usual diet of everything just seems to be
bland,
I’m hungry for words that do more
than echo deep into my eardrums,
I’m hungry for eyes that see more
than literal words on a page,
I’m hungry for fingertips with minds
of their own and empty palms
grown tired of holding air,
I’m hungry for my nose hairs to be
tickled with the forgotten scents of childhood,
I’m hungry for another tongue to touch
mine in search of Truth, or at the very
least a lie
you can love,
So today, I won’t be having the usual,
Give me yesterday’s special,
and do the same for me tomorrow,
that way we have a little bit of time
to let them talk about it,
and they will talk of your cooking
and my hunger until your apron
unties
and I’ve had my fill
of all the extraordinary things
we let eat us, that culminate
into this dish called
Life with a steady helping
of an unknown spice.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
Artifical Strawberry And Apple Scents Fill The Air,
Chocolate Grazes Starving Lips,
Single Hearts Filled With Despair,
Hungrier Eyes Gaze At Curving Hips,
Pink And Red Petals Coat The Snowy Streets,
Tissues Lay Crumpled In Trash Cans,
Destiny--Boy And Girl Meet,
Does Love Ever Follow It's Original Plans?
Hugs And Kisses Fly In The Bone Chilling Breeze,
But No Words Are Important Enough To Say,
Can I Have A Valentine Please?
Oh Well--It's The Same As Every Other Valentine's Day
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 5:03 PM UTC
Faces. That’s all I could see.
All of them, lined in a row;
hungry eyes and hungrier mouths.
One stab and I was open,
two stabs and I was empty.
Soon naked–skinned.
The pain stopped, but it still hurt.
Placed ‘pon a plate.
All was a blur but I could see–
See the face consuming me.
Hungry eyes, stuffed mouth.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 4:18 AM UTC
Phyyt phoo, two aqueous lenses peeling through, the oxygen layers.
Pupils turn as they unfold, hungrier for light behind burnt sand barriers.
The switchboard like a carnivorous plant field independently moves points
And compacted, segmented panels respond like exoskeletal joints
There come the staccato screams of steam one at a time, puff, lining the door
Capsule, contaminated with air, is cleaned when the beetles wing lifts the floor
The boy I was, offers a raised thumb from the ground, science disciple
With Helium fission equations on a sheet hanging from a bible.
My eyes behind a visor open slowly, it’s time to take control
Still tears slowly lift from my face like a violin bow rising to sing low
Now in a place where time means nothing I can’t regret a thing
I just wish this clinical empty cold on all, to take the warmth that lies bring
With Creaking myofibril strings so imperfect in this black vacuum dream
I shake the hand of god; with polystyrene gloves as his work is so unclean.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC
Did, a heart of sincerity...?
Made pure, made true...
With the soon, a vestigial anarchy
Came to these, the rue of what we fate, to irony due...
Life and a laugh
The instilled today, the tone of a voice
Given the wishes of the frank, and endearing more we hath...
The compliment of sorry eyes and sudden why's, a unity's choice?
Cope, tomorrow in league with such, a service
To fragile ideals, and the carnal low...
Seemingly mine, the inclined shrewdness of austere sigh's
Is a head at pride, a lover's lie to compel a friend to owe...?
Me, a hardier since, seclusion in a waiting worth...
Can a heightened sense of curiosity, begin here?
With the claimed sake, and kindness of silenced gain, by earn
And turn of chaste into a needy repast, is my ought's notion clear?
Waiting on the words to divine a character's politics?
Sate and uniformity in mind, for another go round
With such a treatise to sympathize with truth, that a gesture meant
Is a gesture in the fate, we knew as a careless whisper, to allow...?
A hat of composure make the day for neglect, isn't a worlds eyes drawn
Meant and imagination, to a seemly rise and flow; was distance to form the words?
Which brings us to the shade, of conscience's seldom, as if a waiting song
That has a notion to become, hungrier than me, that sees the problem of seasons early...
Aug 22, 2023
Aug 22, 2023 at 3:27 PM UTC