"malnutrition" poems
At the corner, a girl child from the UK
another soft drink she chugged
Whilst the girl woman in the Sudan,
the heavy *** on head she lugged
She walked eight miles, braving ****
to fetch unclean water from the well
Whilst in the UK, the girl bought designer clothes
to make her feel just swell
God where are the waters of life?
To end their strife
At the mall, the boy child ate his third Hershey bar
In Malawi the boy man’s
stomach had extended too far
Malnutrition had sealed his fate
God where is the cereal?
To make their lives non-ephemeral
Down under, the son celebrated with family,
presents and cake
his father’s 100th milestone
Whilst in war torn Syria, a son, now orphan
buried his young murdered father,
in ground without a gravestone
God when will the fighting cease?
To give them a chance of peace
Is this God’s confusion?
That though we are all made the same,
some people their innocence shattered
are headed for a terrifying fate
whilst others fully satiated and secure,
sip their drinks, polish off and request another plate
Or does God if he exists
not love the weak and oppressed?
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
Society sells beautiful lies,
Emphasis on the beautiful,
They sell you the definition of beauty in
small pictures,
small ads,
small sizes.
Spinning the world on a string,
They've got us all fooled.
Telling teens they don't need to eat,
"Skip the food today,
be beautiful tomorrow".
Selling the idea that beauty can replace sorrows.
Society sells the idea that beauty is empowerment.
Society sells the idea that if you are beautiful,
then you could have the world on a string.
These lies lead our leaders of tomorrow into disarray.
Sell us the idea that if we are beautiful
today will be better than yesterday.
But the empty promises lead us all astray,
Abandoned on street corners begging for scraps,
because we didn't think we felt empowerment.
Society sells small,
Society sells beauty,
Society sells small.
Small models,
Small manikins,
Small sizes.
Spinning the world on a string,
Society sells the idea that the size of your waist,
defines how beautiful you are.
Society sells the idea that beauty
is empowerment.
Society sells small.
Society sells the idea that if you are not small,
you are not **empowered,
ugly,
waste of space.**
Society sells small.
Society says beauty is empowerment.
These lies lead our leaders of tomorrow into disarray,
Too many teens today are to prone to facings their problems with razor blades,
Because today was not better than yesterday.
Then tomorrow won't be either.
Society sells small,
small pictures,
small ads,
small manikins.
Society sells protruding plastic ribs,
ribs sharp enough to cut paper.
Society sells the figures of the sick and dying.
Society sells small.
Small enough to be drop dead gorgeous,
Emphasis on the drop dead,
Society sells women who are severely underfed.
Society sells women suffering from malnutrition.
Since when did this become tradition?
Since when was fragile stature empowering?
Society sells skin and bones.
Society sells so small,
women are literally dying to feel beautiful.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
*Staring at a graffito on the wall
Sitting in her wheel chair
Unforgettable visions crossing
With a bleeding in her heart
Cursing those days of childhood
Making her motionless
King of poverty disguised
As malnutrition
Grabbing the bliss of her life*
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 5:37 AM UTC
To future conquering civilizations
in galaxies far far away . . .
don't worry about polluting the air,
our smokestacks have shot dirty-bombs
into the clouds for centuries,
mixing rain drops with the
black grime of industrialization,
transforming our children's tears
into cesspools of sulfuric acid and ddt.
We've also drained the bayous and swamps
and between you and me
don't even bother landing in Africa
there isn't suitable drinking water
for miles, you see.
You can thank years of colonization for that.
In fact, you may not want to land
on Mondays, Tuesdays, or Thursdays
in LA either-
on those days the air quality index
is 175 and far too unhealthy for any
biological organism to survive.
But at least you won't die of malnutrition
you've got decisions:
McDonald's or Burger King
choose
cholesterol and diabetes are your shock troops.
Send them in immediately,
there won't be much resistance
we've got these things call lazy boys
and daytime t.v which have
enslaved the population and decreased
the distance
between fully functioning
human beings and mindless apes.
Don't worry about bringing weapons
we've got those too
we've perfected the art of blowing each other away
there's not much for you to do.
we destroy cities with fire from the sky
and our mushroom clouds rise
at least ten miles high.
And god can't see, there's too much smoke
in his eyes
and our radiated children die
with radiated sighs.
While we are on the topic
don't worry about us spreading
propaganda
we've lost the ability to communicate.
We've learned
books turn a peculiar dark yellow
when lighted and burned.
And forget erasing history,
we've done that too.
Our subjugation of native peoples
is masked as 'patriotism'
under the red, white, and blue.
But don't get me wrong,
I tell you all
of this not to dissuade,
please come and attack,
please come and invade.
Here, I'll even turn
on the lights . . .
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 9:06 PM UTC
As each day passes I can feel myself slowly losing a part of my identity
falling into the black abyss of insanity
Once again this disease has become all consuming
eating away at my mind
I feed myself the same lies
stomaching the pain of this decaying body
Mind clouded by malnutrition
Once again indulging in this slow form of suicide
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 7:10 AM UTC
And somebody exists
They've got brain malnutrition
Their brains puke and get diarrhea
"Red Wine_23 December 2012"
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 3:04 AM UTC
i emerged from a dark cave
a hole in the ground by a tree
bare feet dragging behind me
dressed in shreds of cotton and silkworm fibers
wearing dirt on my cheeks and twitching hands
i was drenched in sweat and malnutrition
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 12:05 PM UTC
You know, I never met a Frank I really hated too much,
except for when I was little and I despised
my ******* grandfather for threatening to
nail my ears to a door every forty minutes.
Having said that, there's a hole somewhere where
people vacation from life and I haven't found it,
but the closest I can get is bed.
I woke up with half my *** still asleep.
I hurt somewhere new every day.
But hey, it can't all be **** coffee and half wilted daisies, eh?
I got my copy of "Eaten by Machines; Collected Poems of Austin Heath."
Look at that.
My word in print.
I'm not making a **** cent off of it,
but there it is. I'll call myself a writer now.
At least out in the open.
Among people.
Sigh.
What if further on down the century,
people decide these years were the first
seeds pushed into the dirt that would
start the apocalypse?
Or, what if we are already the post-apocalypse?
This place smells funny.
What if the past heard about the future,
learned about all the wealth and resources we had
at our disposal, and instead built fancier weapons
for the war machine?
Would they even hesitate to call us monsters,
and declare the future the end?
What the **** do you think we're looking down?
We're all going to go insane,
and **** each other in our sleep,
and we'll sleep rarely because we
realize that it is one big
unprofitable blind spot.
We'll die half-narcoleptic, insomniac, lucid dreaming lunatics,
with manic paranoia and no conscience for violence.
In our sleep.
Sleep.
I can't quite remember why I left bed,
I guess I needed more sunshine in my diet.
My phone is off, it's past noon, and I haven't eaten.
Frank is disappointed.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
I live where a man rubbing
White shoe cream on his leather loafers has ulcers
From malnutrition and constant cassava.
Where a man’s sister loves his Fossil watch
And avocados, but gives
The whole fruit to her hate child.
The road is walked in the morning by
Rwandans, the jerry cans on their heads wetting their chests
With water from the spigot, half an hour away.
Nike shoes are unstitched, laces
Washed white daily and
The drinking water is gone by seven p.m.
I live where black people go thirsty keeping
Their sneakers white; throats dry each morning
While lacing their shoes.
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:03 PM UTC
A mother’s limited knowledge of food choices,
You can hear the kids’ voices,
They want food,
Screaming are the broods,
They seek healthcare
The little scared children.
They could not afford to feed them properly as babies,
And cannot afford it now, the ladies.
“We are begging the government,”
The worried mothers say.
The widespread poverty,
Lack of public safety in the North,
Guns are everywhere,
And violence is getting worse,
All contribute to
The plight of mothers
Who want their children to be happy like others’.
“We are begging the government,”
The worried mothers say.
Poor infant development,
Premature death,
Babies gone before they took a breath.
Kids are not being vaccinated,
And bad conditions are created.
Malnutrition,
All affect mothers and their
Precious offspring.
“We are begging the government,”
The worried mothers say.
PforR,
The British government,
And PATH,
Put all of their efforts to make sure
Kids are being treated.
But still,
Healthcare providers the country leave,
And mothers are left with no relief,
With no regret of leaving millions of starving kids,
They fly to the beautiful turquoise skies,
In order to get one more dollar an hour,
They think it gives them power.
“We are begging the government,”
The worried mothers say.
The mothers don’t give up,
They want to be educated,
Money has to be donated.
With only technology, they can do it.
The access, the supplies, the needed budget, and commitment,
Will help children get the best treatment.
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 1:18 PM UTC
Tiny black bulging dots
Marching in a skewed line,
They hunt down,
The syrupy hints left by your sweet boxes...
To fill up their primitive huts,
so no fellow ant dies-
hungry.
I wonder often
To myself,
Humans with green, blue and yellow revolutions,
And Bt products,
Are perhaps the only species,
Which suffers the worst hungers known.
I haven’t seen malnutrition in ants.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
Poverty,
a dagger of thousands years,
shedding endlessly,the blood of beggars...
Striving,
suffering,
crying,
begging,
Indeed,ready they,who you call Paupers,are to do anything,
only to earn a living...
On the edge of knives,
poor ones lives their daily lives...
The children,all set to walk towards education,
but hunger hinders their concentration...
Still they are ready to do anything,
only to earn a living...
Starvation and Malnutrition are mere words,
compared to what they are really enduring...
Like us, they have wishes,
simple desires,
wants to have:
Proper water to drink,
Proper food to eat,
proper place to live...
God we are not,but their small desires,we can satisfy..
Their fate,we can change,
as their happiness,is still within range..
Together let's save the poor ones,
because a simple act of caring can create an endless ripple...
-Sharvish
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC
a new face
a devil's diction
a change of pace
a gift for fiction
a brand new taste
a signed petition
all heads bowed at benediction
a very small space
a cause for friction
a high speed chase
a duty left in dereliction
a rat's race
a drug addiction
a heart misplaced
a **** conviction
a gathering place
a tight constriction
a country full of human waste
an angel dies of malnutrition
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 7:37 AM UTC
Cooking... funny thing I never did it before you... why?... I don't know, I'm still trying to answer that question... why did I do it for you...I don't know... I'm still trying to figure that one out.
Cooking... it's the last thing I've been wanting to do these past few days...not like I've had much of an appetite either...
Just thinking of going to the store made me nauseous. I even ran out of coffee... and I did not attempt to even step one foot in the ****** grocery store, but I knew I needed to do it. The sooner the better, rip off the band-aid with one pull...
Well... I figured I couldn't go without coffee much longer anyways... and I needed some veggies too... unfortunately fitness and malnutrition do not mix well together... So at 9:30 pm I got up from my bed and said **** it, let's just do it...
I thought of maybe cooking dinner tonight or maybe making myself lunch for tomorrow, but neither of those things happened... As soon as I got to the store all I could see was your face... the memories invaded my already exhausted brain... I did my best to hold it together.
I even waited till the end of my shopping trip to get coffee... too many freaking memories... I almost lost it then... I felt the tears starting to make their way out...so I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and got through it...
Now I'm at home with all these freaking groceries... just looking at them... on the table... not knowing why I even bothered...
Thank God I got some wine and snacks... I guess that'll do for tonight's dinner...
The rest....well... store it for later...
Cooking... it's become a burden... Your face all I can see...
Cooking ... I just need to put these groceries away...
I know eventually I'll find my way to it again... I just have to go through the process... the heartbreak, the ups and downs... face my fears... heal.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
The power lines provide
Elucidation in disguise
A sanctuary shadow-stained
Estate commandment private enterprise
Desensitizing blinded lies
The buy, buy, buy
Consumes the lives
As malnutrition feasts its eyes
Monopolized, the profits rise
The pockets lined with earth’s demise
Until the rockets own the skies
Devising how to energize
The Helios within our minds
As we just sit and stare with pride
Ascending our expenses climb
Mankind amidst the stars will shine
Except for who gets left behind
To overpopulate in time
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 4:21 AM UTC
i’m fighting with gravity
to the death- until my head rests,
empty as my belly
on this false-porcelain floor-
skin waxy as laminate over
these heavy hollow bones
waiting for freedom-
liberation from this sullen casing.
i shake, manic-
blood pressure in the basement,
nauseous from diet pills and anxiety.
jittery, stare at the ceiling-
a spider, stick-limbed, teases me,
but here’s the silver lining:
no curds or whey coating
my shining insides.
i am stronger and brighter than ever
as black swims in my vision-
light-headed from malnutrition,
i wrap fingers around my wrists
to make sure i haven’t escaped my limits.
the mirror doesn’t lie, but it won’t snitch.
we’ll keep this surreptitious.
spilling my bloodred guts, my blood,
won’t make me wither,
and confessing won't save me either.
this red ribbon stays tied around my wrist.
secrets kept keep me stable
clinging to my only success,
self-confidence cellophane-wrapped
in my absence, my transparence.
the whispers don’t mean a thing.
i am frantic on a wire frame,
white noise on parade.
the ground can only hold me for so long.
i'll sprout wings from my ribcage
and float away.
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
Negligible morsel of biomass
my fat belly, formerly abs
insignificant yet it occupies me
hourly while bored or hungry.
Fat is what? a picture
of despair, giving up caring
or man out of balance, other
side of the world's starving
mass, case of the soul's malnutrition
industrial agriculture, television
supermarkets, vacations, hydrocarbons
and the grid. Electricity, urban
traffic jams, photons at final
rest. Sugars synthesized, abundant
plastics to carry them home in.
Into your house and into your mirror.
Memorizing the periodic table
and learning the calculus makes one
no thinner. Walking the mountain
in heat and cold and rain, alone
or in fire crews should inhibit.
And a healthy fear of death. A laugh
a day at *** and pain and fate
which renews the biomass I hate.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
**O, My Creator, Deliver Me From These Inquisitions,
Emancipate Me From These Wretched Oppositions,
Free Me From The Chains Of My Weary Disposition,
Envelop Me Within The Folds Of Your Holy Apparition**
*The Sun's Light Dwindled Along The Horizon,
Darkness Bruised The Ledges Of The Sky,
Summer's Vegetation Recoiled And Fossilized,
Within The Dark Soil's Crumbling Underlie*
**O, Glorious Divine Being, Act On My Requisition,
Extricate My Soul From It's Appalling Malnutrition,
This Tattered Mind Is A Degenerating Composition,
Let My Spine Sprout Wings To Carry Me To Redefinition**
*Stars Emerged From The Depths Of The Heavens,
Holes Filtrating The Stale Air Circulating In Slime,
Oozing From A Fatal Virus They Referred To As Time*
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
I was going to skul "yes" without fittng shoes,i have no extra books,i have no pencil either pen an one of all i have no health,i have a deases called hunger with a cure but not discovered yet,i live without proper food without nutrition but just know that i have malnutrition some say they will do somethng about my situation an oh maybe they will ...um tired oh poverty and always will be....i was polite,i was listening to people an have no say an do what i was told just for money coz i had no money for food,education an health i am young bt look old poverty is cruel it try to make me look like an old age,it just like an insects in my food an ofcorse that i dont have..it knocked at my door an i open thought it was someone it push an pull me down an make me kneel for it an i did ,it made me its slavery inside my house come on inside my own house? And i obey?well i had no choice, i slept at the floor without a blanket an without my teddy,then i had a dream and quite dream, i dreamed about money and i dreamed about the end of poverty,then i woke up and busy searching for my money "oh my dream money" searching my empty pocket with an angry face thinking that my money was stolen from me,then i realize it was just a dream, an again i realize that when i live with my unwanted friend is not because i want it.,,,,its because i want more....
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
I met him one night in December...
close to Christmas Eve
When I walked in he had
candles lit and some
scotch for us to drink
His peepers are dark and squinty
His laugh is warm and lovely
His voice is satin spiked with honey
He drinks purple-graped-red-wine
He resembles Dionysos
Nature as a male
He works with cryptic messages
Amalgams and
his speach is a rainbow of
different languages
Could of sworn I've met this
man in some dreamy
distant place...
Palaces of concertos ringing
when I study his copper face
I had a restless wistfulness...
A particular soulful malnutrition
That eventually dissipated
in our bathtub conversation
I swear I would cross oceans
In the hope that we might
meet again
I understand he has a habit of
diving into fountains...
He dances with gypsies on
the street
Sometimes I fail to see how
someone as worldly as he
could like someone like me
I call when he runs by Vesuvius
I want his extra time
I always forget the 7 hour
time difference but...
when we talk it makes me smile
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 12:02 AM UTC
I am alive & just barely;
my throat is closing off
with hard, precious cancer eggs
tucked safely where my tonsils
are supposed to sit.
my fingernails this lovely
shade of purple, a deeply
blueish tint influencing them
almost indigo. They tattle,
silently proclaim my complacent
malnutrition. the moons of my manicure
have sunk backwards, eve
returns to dusk, my favorite
time of day, where the quiet
begins, the candle may be lit,
& the eyes I always feel on me
are at least shadowed from my vision.
the coffee is so black
pulsing through my shrunken veins
that my tears are caffeinated.
even when I don't hold a cigarette,
I see the smoke under my breath.
my hands & feet are always cold,
my muscles tremble & I swoon
when we try to stand strong together.
there is turmoil
constant static
in the fissures of the grey matter.
well? tell me! does it really matter?
my bones ache
my face breaks
oh, this Exist Contemplate.
my government has always
been corrupt; the city walls
are finally wearing, having
borne the onslaught for decade
& decade. oh, the Burn & Blister.
I crawl to my coffin without your permission;
Where are you, my Handsome Benediction?
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
What am i living for
Am i living for the hope that diminishes with time
Am i living for my family whom i was a great disappointment
Am i living for the happiness or love that never seems to arrive
Am i living for the 58dollars i got paid as my monthly salary
Am i living for the plans i made i never got the mobilities to acheive them
Maybe life treats some people preferencially
Maybe life has her own people she favours with time
Maybe life is a politician who make empty promises
Maybe life is discriminating
Maybe life believed in the concept of favouriitism and
The principle of godfatherism
Why do some people enjoy this life as if they created it
The live a luxurous life
Intimidating the poor and surpressing them
They drive the most espensive cars and splashes water at the poor
Some poor are there begging for a square meal
They never know what is happiness
All they do is find somewhere they could eat for the day a d move on
Life is really a politician
Life has people she made rich and people she made poor with time
Life has people she cares for and people she didnt care if they live or die
The poor suffers the most expensive sickness in the world today
With no money to cure them and they finally die with time
Malnutrition has caused the death of many childern and adult whom the principle of favouritism and godfatherism wasnt on there side
They work all day to provide food and shelter for there family
There 12hrs work per day to a month was spent on food and rent having nothing to save
There kids kids could not go to school due to the huge amount of school fees
Oh life
Oh life
Is time you start considering the tears of the poor
Oh life
Is time you remember the poor and favour them too
Is time you circulate the principle of favouritism and godfatherism and not monopolising it
Is time you give the poor reason to believe it worth to stay alive
Is time you restore the hope they already lost in you
Other than this the cry of the poor remains
What am i living for
What am i living for
What the hell am i living for
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
i cannot tell you
how many well meaning
eyes have looked deeply into mine
as lips questioned,
"now what are you doing for you?"
i find that such a bizarre question.
i don't know
staying alive?
avoiding death by
getting maimed
malnutrition
the elements...
isn't that what everyone is doing?
what people are looking for
is something more like...
girl, let me tell you
pull your chair closer
(said in a conspiratorial way)
these disasters couldn't have
happened at a better time!
i've been taking my
government cheese
paying all my bills,
going out to dinner every night
you know i got a life coach
a yoga instructor
and a therapist?
yeah
i have a lover for
every day of the week
i get a massage every wednesday
and a pedicure every monday
because i deserve this me time
what the ****
what am i doing for me?
what are you doing for you?
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 1:50 AM UTC
When she looks back,
A small teen believed
he was the happiest milestone
that's ever been marked
in her journey of life.
She treated him like a dying man.
She cherished every second,
laughed at every word,
loved every part of him
entirely every moment she could.
Her brain would plant
beautiful flowers
and they became nourished by
a simple thought of him.
He did not show efforts
to create a new garden.
Malnutrition problems.
She was over blossoming
beautiful bouquets.
And gave them to the poison.
Time passes by,
she tried to be her again.
The thought of him always lingered
and it achieved all it needs.
Questioning herself, lack of confidence.
Day after day pass by,
She doesn’t know what she wants
lost in the ways of the world.
Her brain participates in ways to burry
the negative feelings to succeed
at only feeling good.
She’s stuck, the pain overbears her.
Fatigue, sadness, lack of motivation
all tag along, alone with nothing better to do. Weighing her down in the world while he is living like one normally does.
6 years later. She’s asked about her first love.
When she's thinking about him,
her brain shrivels up
like a flower would when it's cold.
She try to protect herself, “Debatably a waste of time but also glad it happened.” She answers.
Growth is in pain, she acknowledges.
She thinks of her previous pain
only to find the root of sadness
to be able to change.
She lets go. She loves herself. She is beautiful. She feels like she is worth the world and deserving of a loving guy.
She notices that her maturity was key.
She lives life for her every day. Not for a boy, not for her school, grades, parents. SHE LIVES FOR HERSELF.
Her peace became important. She realized, feelings of hers are real. She is allowed to feel. Her emotions have power.
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 10:30 PM UTC
Whenever people see that dog,
they think of drooling,
hunger
and
boredom,
that dog
bit a few people
so they castrated him,
and he lays in the corner
all day,
licking at fur,
nuzzling out his pink ****
with his tongue,
and he's bored of being a dog,
he's just bored
of being alive.
That dog
comes to his bowl
like a ward of the state,
like he has to
and doesn't want to.
That dog
plops down at the back door
staring at himself in the glass
and the world outside
all day,
and sometimes they
rub his head,
most times
they just let him lie.
That dog
won't bark
for anything,
even when
he sees that *****
across the street,
he doesn't have it any more.
That dog
wants something now
more than anything else.
That dog
with his ability
to make you think
of ropes of saliva,
belly's bloated with malnutrition,
and watching tv all day;
that dog
wants to love something
the way he used to love
everything.
What'll happen
when they finally give that dog
a bone?
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC