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Julie Grenness Oct 2016
(Sing along to tune of 'Strangers in the Night!"
TUMMIES IN THE NIGHT...
Tummies in the night, is this a romance,
Tummies in the night, what does enhance,
All our fat sharing love, would the air be blue?
Fatness in our thighs, was so enticing,
Fat double chins, were so exciting,
Fat around your  guts, told me I must love you,
     Tummies in the night,
Teletubbies ,we looked such a fright,
Two naked tubbies, we  were  tummies in the night,
up to the moment, when we ate our first jello,
Did our fatness grow,
Fat was just a dance away, a fat embracing lard away,
and ever since that night, we've been fat together,
Tummies at first sight, in fat forever,
It turned out so fat, for tummies in the night!!!!
Feedback welcome, I'm for the fat!!!
Even more so than us
our stomachs are in love
and long after we're asleep
our tummies are still up
gabbing in gurgles
with voices acidic
pronounced with chemicals
that we cannot mimic

I wonder what they talk about
in whisper-burps and gurgle-shouts
Maybe about current events?
Perhaps of snacks and condiments?

But when we wake, they separate
and then must be content, and wait
For the next magic evening
And another night of speaking

So it's up to you and me
to keep them in close proximity
Our love is not just me and you
but between our tummies, too

So let's sleep like spoons
bent together, tight
so our tummies can banter
through every night
and talk about everything
while our lungs breathe each other in
this is a poem about sleep, the best kind.
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)

Kenya; the begotten daughter of your poor mother
Whose children starve and stave hunger in their tummies
Wallowing in mire of food destitution and diverse others
Wondering where to get victuals from as you have none to tax
Kindly look at your state officers the tummies are bulging
Occupying space all over, suffocating neighbours to the fringe
Tax the commonaplace tummies of your state officers
For them are plenty enough to give you revenue
In combat against hunger unto your children
Raj Arumugam Oct 2012
listen you pretty girls
and tormented boys
heed this warning tale
and avoid bloated tummies
and crushed *****


song of Bad Boy Nimko

here below this bridge
each night
I met pretty Akako
And each night I whispered
sweet nothings
and poured myself
into her
But ah, now this same bridge
of pleasure is a bridge of pain
she says she’s pregnant
and makes her claims
And so I must run away
turn my back on the village
and never return
for here is no gain



song of Bad Girl Akako

here below this bridge
each night I met Nimko
and I told him one night
he’s made me pregnant
and he said
he didn’t know about that
And never wanted
to see me again
and he called me a ****
And so I squeezed him tight
and he left with ***** crushed
flat as dumplings
under a carriage wheel




And so
listen you pretty girls
and tormented boys
heed this warning tale
and avoid bloated tummies
and crushed *****
image from Wikipedia; poem based on print: “Man on horseback crossing a bridge” by Utagawa Hiroshige (1797 – October 12, 1858)
Larry Potter Sep 2013
They say, in the wheel of life, you'll spend half your years rising to the top and the other half tumbling to the bottom. I guess they got it all wrong. I believe life is a crooked tire that can never roll up and down. Pretty sure, it is nailed to the ground where weeds could grow to entangle it forever. Until now, what they keep trying to say remains a puzzle to me. Perhaps I can never understand what they mean. Or maybe I just won’t. Why? Because from the moment our eyes opened for the world, we’re already stuck down below and I’m afraid we’re trapped here in this limbo for all eternity.

We’re just simple people living an ordinary life. Like every family who seeks refuge from the storm, we do have a place we call home although it’s not much of an architectural delight. However, for some reasons, I find our roof appealing like a real work of art. Patches of cardboard embellish the underside while a combination of tarpaulin and ad posters works in harmony to provide an extended shelter. On bright mornings, we’ll wake from the sunbeams piercing through its many gaps. On rainy days, however, the sound of raindrops falling from the gaps down to our water containers serves as our wake up call.

To jumpstart ourselves for another day’s challenge, we could either eat breakfast (if there were any), or just sing our skipping meals away and spend the rest of the day with sacks of scraps and rubbishes on our back hoping to make a good deal with Mr. Gomez, the junk shop proprietor. He reminded me so much of my father but without the alcohol problem and violence, though. During nighttime, we bring with us our drum to sing carols on the lonely streets. If our feet become too weary to walk, that’s the time we head home. We rush all together, eager to count the coins we’ve collected that night. We make sure to put a plastic cap underneath two of our table’s feet so that it won’t lean uncontrollably and spill the tiers of ten, five and one peso coins we’ve dedicatedly piled over. Then the next part does the trick. A portion of our collection for the night goes straight down a big jar and joins in the many others which fill more than half of the container. The remaining part is used to buy supper to save our hungry tummies from
shrinking again. However, during slack nights when drivers and busy people decided to become miserly, we’re fortunate enough to have a pack of noodles for supper. But if we ran out of luck, we just set our untidy beds ready and drown our raging stomachs to sleep. I know there’s not pretty much but this is where our lives revolve. And as they say, life must go on no matter what.

Together with the three most important persons of my life, I continue the journey for a better living. Along the way, we try to search for the good things out of life’s bitter truths. We never let misery **** our hopes and dreams. Instead, we work harder and tougher. Take Islay, for example. She’s cheerful,
clever, aggressive, talented, a model of hard work. She’s got most of everything. Well, except for height, probably. I wanted to be a doctor so I could help the needy. Islay dreams of becoming an elementary teacher. She said she really likes kids and teaching them would surely be a more exciting thing to do.

Then there’s Nova. Her looks may require you a little more time to think and consider, but she has a good heart. However, she gets a little, uhhm, what term do we use for an unsociable person? That’s it! She’s a bit of a Killjoy!

Islay and Nova caroled a store swarmed with drunkards. It was always Islay who’ll find every creative idea and propose it convincingly to Nova, who in turn hesitates and rejects it but then ultimately respects it in the end. Islay always has the winning edge. Maybe that’s one of her abilities. Her convincing power deserves a credit to the list.

The two didn’t mind the ***** that welcomed them. Inside her mind, Nova asked herself how many people could waste their money on a doze of liquid or spirit that can poison their mind and bring them to imminent danger. If only they have given it to the poor and needy, they could have saved a lot of lives instead of ruining their own.

But Aling Nena, the wicked storeowner, unleashed her witchy wrath to the two. She looked at them with eyes of contempt, of prejudice and disgust. She accused the two as jinxes and blamed them for the
store’s unprofitable end. If only she could look at herself and discover a chest of shimmering blame, she might shrink into shame. Islay and Nova ran off not because they were afraid of Aling Nena or the drunken men but because of what Aling Nena said to them. They cannot defend themselves from such
an attack. How could they when they were surrounded with eyes of ridicule?

And of course, there’s my dearest sister, Juaning. We’ve only got each other since our mother’s death. It has been months already. Juaning was still 15 when mama left us. She’s 16 now. It’s been quite a while and I know she misses mama a lot like I do.

And so they fought life’s bitter realities. They begged and implored to the unconcerned passers-by, almost falling to their weak knees for one very important thing - to live. But even if the three of them were sitting, lying, and rolling down the cold pavement, these people with more graces just pass by without even sparing a glance of concern. Wouldn’t it be happier if they shared their God-given blessings? But as the day continues, they have to endure the hunger, the contempt. Because other than filling their
hungry stomach, they have a sibling, a friend to support.

That’s my part of the story. It has been months now since I caught a serious illness which bound me
to this bed, flat on one’s back, weak, inutile, and useless. Every time they come home, I wish I was with them to taste the sweet and feel the pain, not just a good listener to their stories of survival and moments of friendship. Someday, I’ll become strong again, and this curse of a disease shall be gone.

I woke up to the longing for water. I’ve never been this thirsty before. I called out their names but my voice just echoed deep in the four dark walls of our crooked house. With no one to help me, I summoned my strength and decided to get a glass of water by myself. But my legs aren’t as strong as my will. And as I attempted to stand, they betrayed me. I collapsed and plodded down the floor. Luckily Islay came and helped me get back to bed. She scolded me for being careless. I cried. I can’t help it. I pitied myself all
over again.

The cold evening wasn’t a problem for Islay. Seeing me cry like that crushes her heart. I know, as a friend and a part of our family, she wishes the best for me. And that’s why she’s still out there in the middle of the night, working late to earn more for our better future. She ignored the chills and the exasperation. She knows she has to work harder and she’s more than determined for it.

But something happened to me while she’s away from home. I cannot move my body, not even my mouth. Tears just fell from my weary eyes. And before it’s too late, Juaning caught me unresponsive and paralyzed. My sister cried for help. Nova sprinted to get the jar. Juaning told her what to do. And wasting no time, Nova rushed to the nearby pharmacy to get me some medicine, and most probably to save my life.

But Nova’s effort was in vain. Prescription drugs cannot be bought that easily. The pharmacist closed down the only lining of hope for me. The security guard felt pity on Nova and he suggested her an alternative decision that will change our lives forever.

Islay was still busy serenading the busy streets with her chants of joy and sweet hums. But the clouds become unwelcoming. And by the sound of the thunder, big droplets of rain started pouring down the highway. She ran as fast as she could and sat on a corner where she thought of something deeply. She hugged the drum that she was carrying for five hours or so and tried to remain calm in the presence of the bad weather.

After half an hour, Nova came back with a pouch of medicine on her shaking hand. She handed it carefully to Juaning whose faith and hope were hanging to the tiny bottle of miracle.

Days gone by and my condition wasn’t going any better. It turned out that my medicine was consumed to the last drop. Still I remained immobile and my hands are going number by the days. Slowly I was losing hope. I wish they weren’t mad at me. I’m trying my best to live on. That’s why I’m still here. But Nova shared something worth listening to. She revealed how and where she got the medicine.

It was from a quack doctor on a stall put up on the corner of Rizal Avenue. She said he was well versed and very convincing. And that she spent all of our savings for a bottle of deception. But we can do nothing about it. We did not have formal education. We were fortunate enough to meet kind children on
the streets who would try to teach us something they have learned from school. We would attempt to read newspapers and the description in the carton boxes we spread beneath the Badelles overpass.

Nova cried in guilt and shame. Islay was still angry at her, and it can be understood. My sister, Juaning, comforted Nova with a promise that everything will get better in time.

December 27. It was my birthday. And more than anything else, what I wish is for the four of us to be happy. Nothing in this life is more important than seeing everyone you love smile with absolute
happiness. Juaning never forgot her job and that’s to buy me a cake. Every year, they will try to surprise me with every creative possible way. But that’s how their surprises become predictable with my age.

They sang me a birthday song. But this time, they were the ones waiting for a surprise. As my sister was about to hand me the cake waiting for me to blow the candle, she noticed something she was least expecting for. My lips are pale and my eyes are shut from the light of the world. I caught my last breath and before I gave it away, I left a smile on my face that can never be changed forever. That is how I want them to remember me. Not that heck of a frown clown whose audiences are stricken with sadness.

They say, in the wheel of life, sometimes, you'll spend half of your years rising to the top and the other half tumbling to the
bottom. Maybe they were right. It was then that I’ve come to understand what they were trying to say.

Our life’s wheel revolves around things way beyond just money, food, and shelter. It is about the moments you spend with your loved ones, friends and family that will be forever carved in your heart. We can never know when our life here on earth will be over. So let us cherish every bit of it. And for me, even if we skip breakfasts and eat only noodles for supper, I have realized in these last fleeting moments that my life has always
been on the top of the wheel after all.
Brittany  Sep 2014
Insecure
Brittany Sep 2014
I wear a jacket almost ever day
To hide the little bit
Of my stomach poking out
I notice flat tummies
So I cross my arms over mine

I usually put my hair in my face
So people won't notice my dorky glasses
Sometimes I try to go without them
But its hard to see and read things

I wear a lot of makeup
As an attempt to hide the imperfections of my face
I don't like going without it because
I feel people always stare

I know everyone has things
They don't like about themselves
And you may think differently
But if you try and tell me
I end up not believing you
I think you're just lying to me
So I'll feel better about myself
Raj Arumugam  Jul 2013
solid rain
Raj Arumugam Jul 2013
7 billion of us
that’s a lot of mouths
and tummies to fill

You’re a farmer in Drought Land
(
How did I get here?* you ask yourself;
How do you farm dry land? we ask you)
and the weeds grow and your crops die
You need water, water, Hard Rain, plenty of Solid Rain
and the chemical engineer
Velasco of Mexico, he got just that for you
It’s powder, baby –
looks like sugar, honey;
10g of Hard Rain absorbs a Liter of Water
and it’ll stay there on your land for a year at the least

7 billion of us
that’s a lot of mouths
and tummies to fill


it doesn’t evaporate and only the roots can drink it
It’s Hard Rain going to come, baby -
that’s the promise -
it’s Hard Rain on your Dry Land;
it’s absorbent material -
this polymer, yeah baby, it’s called
potassium polyacrylate
and it’s coming to a dry land near you
it’ll lie on your land, and it’ll feed your crops
and you can sell your veggies to me
and that’ll feed me and my family
we’re just too many mouths to feed, you know,
all the 7 billion of us, baby,
on Planet Earth, on Blue Blue Earth

and maybe I’ll buy some Hard Rain myself too
for my own little Eden in my backyard
Oh, it’s Hard Rain, Hard Rain gonna fall on us all, baby
It’s Hard Rain going to come, baby -
that’s the promise
it’s Hard Rain on your Dry Land

*7 billion of us
that’s a lot of mouths
and tummies to fill
(1) This is a "news poem" - based on an article I read online....
(2) Solid Rain, the product described in the poem above, was created by Mexican chemical engineer Sergio Jésus Rico Velasco.
Martin Narrod May 2014
while I may do you perfectly. the snow angels on gasoline st., did you
see them? All of the houses were dripping wet too, one girl with gold laces on her leopard shoes wore red plastic pants; totally soaked to the bone.

to train ourselves to brave the heat of each others' bodies as we awaken in  one small bed, one small blanket. the both of us yawn. it's so fun to make waffles but neither of us like to eat preference. I love you to death but prefer to brush my teeth alone- one tooth at a time.

embrace your new t-shirt, even though not everyone enjoys a good show of a flock of crows. hand drawn indie wicker-hipster prints. coffee by the pint. you crack me up like vitrifying glass sheens of the individual bubbles in a bubble bath or the ******, glazed eyes of the monsters' eye while a shark attacks.

creaky sounds of bodies mapped by fingers, tickled tummies rippled by listening to witch house singers. you crack me up, count chocula. It's Saturday, I love to laugh while laying down. everybody's funnier when they're laying on the ground. we toast to ghosts.

luminous lengths of birthday candles

lickedidddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd­ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd­dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd                                                            d 0  y0urself as best you can
United our toes
As our blood flows
Ice cream & gummies
Fill our tummies

Sunk in bed
You asked for head
I doved in the covers
Locked lip lovers
Singing house and blues.
In a night for two.

Nothing ever felt better
You moaned
Only together
We make ice cream & gummies
Taste better.
by: myself Kristiany "Kandii".
Please don't steal.
The witty mother cat galloped everywhere
Everywhere and Anywhere
Just to feed her kittens' hungry tummies
For yummy food they dream, at times!

One day, the witty mother broke the gate
To a luxurious well-provided estate
Yet she could only grab a Cake,
But a full cake, mouth-watering Choco-Cake!

She hopped and jumped and rolled
Just to protect it from the Afghan Hound
And reached it for her two tiny kittens
In despair, she badly wanted it too!

So she prounounced to her kittens:
"I will cut the cake into two exact halves"
And so she cut, as carefully she can!
Awfully, one became larger and one smaller!!

Then the witty mother cat got this idea:
"Why not eat a little of the larger piece?
So, both pieces will be equal in size?"
And there went the mother cat...

Eating a little of the larger piece
She tasted the Choco-Cake in a race
Again, one went larger and another smaller!!
The witty mother cat silenty became happy...

"Why not eat a little of the larger piece?
So, both pieces will be equal in size?"Read more →
And there went the mother cat...
Giving a taste to the choco-Cake again!

And it went on this way:
Of one being smaller and the other larger,
And the witty mother cat kept eating
The Cake-piece by piece!

Atlast the cake became smaller and smaller
Yet the kittens' didn't get any!
The witty mother kept eating many
And the cake never got cut equally!
With the witty mother finishing it fully!!
Jackie Mead Aug 2017
Prince Simon, Prince Jason and Princess Sophie lived a regal life.

Slaying dragons and battling witches by day, monsters and zombies by night.

Each day brought adventures new, trips on boats and to the zoo.

One particular day when feeling bored, Prince Simon decided to explore.

Down to the basement, he slowly sneaked, quietly to take a peek.  New adventures he did seek.

A rickety old wardrobe he did find and suddenly an adventure sprang to mind.

Running as fast as his legs would go, bellowing with his lungs as hard as they would allow.

"Prince Jason, Princess Sophie please come soon, I have a rocket to take us to the Moon". "Roll up, roll up tickets please, pull your dress right in Princess Sophie it's going to be a squeeze".

All three were so excited they could hardly say a sound.

Prince Simon reached around them both and pulled the door shut tight, buckle up fellow explorers you're in for the ride of your life.

The Wardrobe began to rock and shake, the Wardrobe began to lift and quake.

Destination the Moon, hold on tight we'll get there soon

The rocket started rising faster and faster, higher and higher.

All three children were delighted, the rocket ship made them so excited.

Higher and higher, faster and faster, they rose into the sky.

Higher and higher, faster and faster, leaving the earth behind.

Prince Simon, Prince Jason and Princess Sophie, all declared. "I hope we'll get there soon, I can't wait to walk on the Moon"

"Walk on the Moon", let me think Prince Jason declared, "I'm not sure that we can breathe without any air".

"No air," said Sophie that's no good!, "I need air, what about a hood?"
"A hood is a good idea," said Prince Simon "an oxygen tank and heavy shoes too". "Let's search around the Wardrobe and see what we can find".

Together they searched high and low, finding items as they go.

"A hood" shouted Sophie "just what we need at least now we can all breathe".

"Heavy shoes" shouted Jason, "thank goodness for that, now we can go walking, I heard the moons flat".

"An oxygen tank", Simon declared "together with the hood and boots we are fully equipped for our trip, whoop, whoop, whoop!".

The items they came in three sizes, small for Princess Sophie, medium for Prince Jason and large for Prince Simon and quickly they all dressed up, it wouldn't be long now before the wardrobe came to a stop.

The rocket started descending, slowly it did fall and the children curled together on the floor in a tight knit ball.

Once the rocket had landed the children all ascended to their feet,
clearly excited not one of them could speak.

Prince Simon was the eldest and took the superior role, he looked out the window and said I will be the first to go.

Prince Simon conjured up his nerve to open wide the door, stepped outside, turned around with a smile a mile wide and set off to explore.

Thirty seconds later he shouted out to Prince Jason and Princess Sophie to join him by his side, "I have an idea" he said to them both that the moon is made of cheese.

Prince Jason and Princess Sophie laughed so much they began to cough and wheeze.

"Made of cheese" they both declared "you really must be mad", but we must be sure they all said, so let's all set off to explore.

One by one they found a spot and pulled a chunk off in their hands, looking at each other daring to be first, "altogether" Prince Simon shouted with an enthusiastic burst.

"Cheddar" shouted Prince Simon, "Edam" shouted Princess Sophie, "Red Leicester" shouted Prince Jason, they looked at each other in disbelieve.

They could not fathom how they had all got their favourite cheese, so they moved around the moon, trying different spots, leaving behind them crater pots but that did not make them stop.

Half an hour later their tummies were full, having eaten every type of cheese you can name from Brie to Camembert, Wensleydale to Stilton.

Looking back the 3 space cadets could see what they'd done to the moon, "I think" said Prince Simon "we need to return soon to try to mend the moon".

But now it's time to go they all 3 agreed, we've been gone a long time and mummy will be worried.

They climbed into the rocket and took off all the clothes, set their destination to their home a million miles below.

As they approached their home, the roof opened and the rocket landed safely just in time for tea.

The children all stumbled out of the wardrobe and running through the doors found their mummy in the kitchen serving up their tea.

"Where have you been?" mummy asked, "I've been calling you 3, now you're here just in time for your very favourite tea - Macaroni Cheese!"

The children usually would have been delighted now all moaned and grumbled "Mummy" they sighed "we all have belly aches, can we please be denied our tea and just go straight to bed".  

We are sure that by the morning break we will no longer have our belly aches and tomorrow for our tea we would love Macaroni Cheese :)
2017/11/20 - Update
I am pleased to say that this story, beloved of our family for such a long time has been published today by Authorhouse.com
When I was about 10 yrs old I bought the Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe book with a voucher I won at school. It was the first book I ever bought. My children were raised on all the books and films.
When my children were little I used to tell them this story at bedtime they would request it rather than a book.
When they got older I wrote the story up for them and bound it and gave it to them so they would have it for their children. I have converted the story to verse. It's a lot more difficult than I first thought and I am not entirely happy with it but happy enough to publish on HP and welcome the feedback from my fellow poets.  I will continue to work on it and will update it and republish it at a later date.
I have not plagiarised any words from the Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, these words are my own and the children's names are my own too, although I am not a Queen :)
shosho Rea  Jan 2015
Love/Hate
shosho Rea Jan 2015
We're not meant to hate. I'm sorry but its true, no matter how much we say we hate someone deep down we know we're lying to ourselves.

You know how Love is the best feeling in the world. Don't you think hate is the alternative to when you're broken or something? Because with Love comes butterflies in our tummies, smiles in our faces, happiness and well thoughts of those you love. So with hate comes furry in our tummies, anger in our hearts, pain and memories of those who hurt us.

So does this mean we hate to remember those we love?
Because we don't really want to forget them?
Eh I think the heat is getting to me over here.
It really is hot over here so yea I'm  hullicinating :O
Well I think I am, it's the heat. Ooh what's that up in the sky? Is it a bird?! Noo is it a plane!? Ooh Wait it's the clouds ('o') ('-' )
Lady Narnia Jun 2016
I'm surprised we're having a picnic on the east wing!
Our company almost never gives us anything!
Underpaid with no benefits makes this picnic even better
To think I was going to give in my resignation letter

With so many hamburgers, hot dogs, and more,
It's a fast food restaurant galore!
A table packed full with yummies.
Today, a lot of beef will be in tummies.

People reaching for their plates
The caterers come out of their waits
One by one, they serve each voracious goer
For a pay that probably couldn't get any lower

Janice comes, with her broken polish and nails
And a scream a joy echos out like whales
She's so drunk, oh my god haha she's so wired
It's the unpaid overtime or another threat of being fired

Poor thing... we finish our girl talk
and problems on my mind, I begin to walk
Feeling my appetite begin to poke me,
I bite into my hamburger with resounding glee

Nipping the bread, it's fluff presses against my lips
I close my eyes, as my senses go in dips
The precious aroma of divine baked bread
As my tongue and bun are set to wed.

Each bud met with delicious waters of steak
The ketchup creating a dreamy, saucy lake
Scrumptious, delicious
Incredible, nutritious...?

It doesn't matter, I've met my goal
And the taste, goodness it makes my mind roll
Forgetting everything while I finish the rest
Golly, this food is the best

— The End —