The Hunger (Poem)

Wow, slow week for the blog, yet here I am again. It’s Throwback Thursday. Where I dig out a putrid poem (or writing) of my past. Last week I posted “Nemesis” which I’ve always been proud of. I said it was written around 1995, I think maybe 1993 because I found a companion piece. And a piece it is. It’s alright. It uses large words. I guess I had to prove something. I was tempted to edit it a bit, but here it is in all it’s gory … um … glory.

The Hunger

I step into the night.
It’s fresh cool air wraps about me.
Teasing me with tantalization,
Fragrances that float in harmony
On a sea of swirling air.

I close my vivid seeing eyes
To the sights that cannot be seen.
I listen to the fragrant air ocean,
Hearing and seeing many things.

Blissful and tempting
Calling only to me
And I listen as I look.

A boy … playing basketball
Alone, determined, yet fresh and free.
Tempted by little, asking for less.
Filled with young purity.

Even younger a baby cries
Hot tears of neglect flash across its face.
Too simple for the feast,
Too young to condemn to death.
Yet it cries, wanting to be free.

Another scent … a painted prostitute,
Virginity long time lost.
Purity tied to a locket.
A mother dead, lost and forgotten
To all but the painted child.

Hot sweat, sweet to smell.
Undulation of love, two lovers,
Timelessly locked in fleshy fornication.

A young woman sleeping,
Soothing breaths lift her breasts.
Beating heart, patterned lightly.
Crimson flow calling in the wind.

I hear it all in the cool night,
Pleasure, Chaos, Hunger’s price.
So much to listen.
So many thoughts.

The hunger is haunting,
But tonight I think I shall only listen
To an ocean of air, free of hunger.

Well, really no rhyme or reason to the line breaks or such. So I don’t know what kind of rhythm I was attempting. Maybe none. As alway, let me know what you think. Like the protagonist, I hunger.

6 Replies to “The Hunger (Poem)”

  1. I like how you often use poetry to visualize situations and places. It’s sort of a trademark I’ve noticed in other old poems of yours. Going through and painting the scene. It reminded me for a moment of the film, The Hunger, the way the speaker was watching, soaking in what seemed to be life in all its stages. It was almost vampiric. And then to be able to turn away from it and just free oneself from the overwhelming cacophony of life… nice.

  2. I like how you often use poetry to visualize situations and places. It’s sort of a trademark I’ve noticed in other old poems of yours. Going through and painting the scene. It reminded me for a moment of the film, The Hunger, the way the speaker was watching, soaking in what seemed to be life in all its stages. It was almost vampiric. And then to be able to turn away from it and just free oneself from the overwhelming cacophony of life… nice.

  3. I was going to write a comment, but anything I say will just look stupid compared to Jenny’s insights, so I’ll just give it a thumbs up and shuffle along quietly.

    Seriously, excellent imagery.

  4. I was going to write a comment, but anything I say will just look stupid compared to Jenny’s insights, so I’ll just give it a thumbs up and shuffle along quietly.

    Seriously, excellent imagery.

  5. Note to self: Do not read Ron’s Throwback Thursdays before dinner. Self is definitely going to overindulge now. Odd reaction to a poem about satiety, but there it is.

    Nicely done!

  6. Note to self: Do not read Ron’s Throwback Thursdays before dinner. Self is definitely going to overindulge now. Odd reaction to a poem about satiety, but there it is.

    Nicely done!

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