Wednesday, March 16, 2016

I Am Hungry- #Sol16 - Day 16

"I Am Hungry"   -  # Sol 16 -- Day 16

I am hungry for a poem
I am
starving for letters
cooked into words
that emit an aroma
of understanding
an aura of love and

I am hungry for letters
that will weave a colorful
tapestry of joy
to shield the already
saddened from the daily
breaking news of
human hands stopping
human hearts.

I am searching among
the shelves of supermarkets
for words to create a recipe
whose secret lies in
healing the hurt
who feel a need to hurt back
letters to anoint
the bruised hands and
feet of those who have
endured more than my
letters can spell.

A spell of letters
a cauldron of stirred words
that will rouse the hearts
of leaders, soldiers, young men
trained to starve for
the blood of newborns
whose umbilical cords were
severed before their lips
learned how to suckle
their mothers' milk.

I am hungry
for words to rock
to sleep childless
mothers and fathers
siblingless brothers
and sisters.

I starve for words
to lure
young boys trained
to hold uzis
before they can
steadily hold a
pencil to search
for letters to
remind them of
back home under a tin
roof hosting baked bread
a mother's or a father's
and lots of love, love, love
words to help them learn what
it is to understand, be confused
words that elicit the power
of compassion.

I am hungry for letters to
cast a spell that will free
kidnapped daughters and sons
I am searching in the
jungles of blinded drugged
human souls for letters
to convince and compel
those who hold the gun
cuddled against their heart
to stop
lead lost daughters and
sons back home under the
spell of love and safety.

I pick through
the dumpsters
of rotten words of hate
murder, genocide
in hopes of finding letters
that will drive away
the man's
the woman's
loneliness as he
she grabs a needle
filled with poison
a hunger so deep
so blind he
she needs to poke a hole
through her skin
a hunger so gut wrenching he
she injects a needle
of desperation
into her parched vein
now starving
for chemicals
that can exhume one
to infernal heights
just as it can enshroud
one in living

I am searching
in vain to fill the
veins of the hurt
confused and lonely
eyes red yearning
for the next fix
young face already
looking  old not
with wrinkles but
with skin pulled taut
stretched to cover
all the bones of the living
dead whose mind and
soul under a spell of a fix
reach for that needle
the breaking point
the breaking news
reveals the daily

I am looking
for strings of letters
and fortifying twine
to weave a net
and catch sparkling silver
fish streaked with the blueness
of peace
fish that can be magically
to feed dry parched
lips whose tongues
have only tasted for days
the bloody chipped
rotten enamel.

A confetti of letters
swirl above my head
like a halo of
words I cannot reach
words that cannot teach
that war, poverty, hunger,
man-struck deaths of bullet
Should cease.

I am hungry...


  1. Wow, this is beautiful and powerful, Natasha. I love the metaphor in your penultimate stanza of words as twine that weave a net to "catch sparking silver / fish streaked with the blueness of peace"... I think you've done it. Each piece of this poem is like a prism that shines light into darkness. I'm waiting for you to put all of this into a book.

    1. Thank you, Ms. Li. I waiting for a signature of your collection.

  2. This is beautiful! I love the metaphors and the way you weave in contemporary stories. It reminds me of a poem I wrote after J.D. Salinger died (remind me to show it to you!) and also of a free-write prompt I gave Creative Writing on Monday, to write about their favorite and/or least favorite word(s).

    1. Thank you. Looking forward to reading your poem written after Salinger's death.

  3. this poem is GORGEOUS. Every stanza builds, the yearning, the need. Oh, I love, love, love it. Whenever I read your poetry, I always know I'm in the presence of a master.

  4. I absolutely love the word choice and theme of this poem! I love the idea of literacy saving us and how you are hungering for the words that will make a difference. This is splendid.

  5. A wonderful poem, a cascade of images, feeling, and meaning that will speak to so many. Like Kim, I know I'm in the presence of a master--and I know that the tumble and flow of these lines presents itself to you because you're deeply in touch with yourself and more than yourself. Thank you so much.