Arable Poems | Examples

Hail Farmer Deity

Fantasy ...

Farmer chills
even on heap of chillies
After all, chilles are his babies
he nursed, made it ready for dishes 

Harvest joy, no less than a winner 
Time to voyage in blissful orbiter
Not as a toiling Farmer 
But as a harvesting Emperor 

Reality ...

Though deity of food, fodder
Farmers, unaware of own future 
Will crop be meager or bumper?
Will his efforts satiate hunger of poor?

Hail Deity of arable land treasure 
Prioritise resolving issues of farmer 
Else, Deity may curse in different manner
May quit farming, trigger epidemic hunger 
________________________________________
© Dr Hitendra Mehta, India ????

Flourish

Flourish,  
Flourishing as the sun shining you daily 
Rejoicing  as  abundant rain watering your fields 
and creating some dams 
for farming fish and feeding your animals. 
You are burgeoning in the eyes
 of some lazy folks
 who have big mouths 
to talk senseless speeches in the streets 
and forgetting  their arable lands 
which are fitting for industrial  agriculture. 

Flourish, 
Oh! Laughing deafeningly sometimes 
when I focus on some tête -à-tête debates 
Which concern poverty in rich continent like Africa. 
Some folks suffering because of some circumstances 
and others dependence due to sluggishness. 

Flourish, 
DRCongo has more billionaire businessmen 
and some politicians 
who keep their money in their mansions 
and banks  
in Europe,  Asia  America and other African countries...
Other rich people hide their money  under the grounds 
 than investing in industrial fishing and agriculture 
and infrastructures to uplift 
the economy of the Country. 

June 23/2023
Written for poetry contest sponsored by 
Constance la France 
....F WORD CHALLENGE....

African Anthem , Proposed To Be the National Anthem of the African Union

Africa the Holy garden 
protected by Angels

Africa the Holy garden 
blessed by God,

Africa of pure waters
And more natural resources, 

Africa of more plants 
and arable soil,

Africa of good weather, 
fauna  and flora 

Africa which welcomes 
all the visitors 

"Know yourselves Africans, 
Knowing  yourselves Africans"

The God of the Holy Apostles and prophets 
Put power ,strength and authority in you
To  control the World. 

Written in Swahili by Alfonso Warally Ngengethe Mussabwa Chris
On May 20/2013
Translated in English in March 05 /2023
Proposed to be the national Anthem of African Union

The Year of Infinity

The year of infinity 

1938 will be the year of dust storms
Arable land will pale and blow away
The ocean will turn into blocks of salt
Forests will fall, and echo in stillness
Millions of birds will fall from the sky
Parched throats drink the blood of cows
Then the weak will be victims of thirst
Then when all blood possible is drunk
When the canals in Venice are dry 
There might possibly be snowfall

Sun Kissed Heaven Blessed

Sun Kissed Heaven Blessed.
.
Shards of illuminating sun kissed light
Solar rays warm and  intensely bright
Filter through bough and leafy tendril branches high
From a vivid azure blue unblemished vibrant sky
Clusters of green and champagne opaque leaves
Become lighter in transparency among the sprawling eves
The abundance of creation in all it’s glorious splendor
Alive nourished and flourished they willingly surrender
Thriving among the lush pretty blooms vale and mound
The pleasant grassy knoll and the arable tawny browns
Foliage stretching upward toward the fiery orb
The life giving strength they need to absorb
Pastel colors of varied hues 
Blended within their prolific multitudes
The air alive with a symphony of tweets and melodic trills
Accompanied by applauding silent trumpet yellow daffodils
A prosperous mellow day full of delights
Slowly unfolds then succumbs to the thick blanket of night
Oh the joy of halcyon idle warm summer days
Of my missed cherished blossoming childhood yesterdays.
.
Peter Dome©2020.

Fair Game

So many times you’ve shuffled the deck,
I don’t know which card will turn up next
So many times you’ve poisoned the well,
I don’t what lies you’re going to tell

It’s not fair --
Your keepin’ us all in the dark
It’s not fair --
The snuffing out of every spark

So many times you’ve dumped your oil --
A truly dead sea and no arable soil
So many times you’ve tilted the table,
With a heart of steel you made our lives unstable

It’s not fair --
You promise renewal and repair
They’re not there, 
But to you everything is fair 
Fair game
 
Against your false visions
And lying divinations,
Let us raise up our hands
As a unified nation

So many times you questioned our minds
As though it were us and not you who is blind
So many times you’ve tilted the table,
Your heart of steel made the machine unstable

It’s not fair --
The way you shattered our promise
It’s not fair
‘Cause it’s too easy to be dishonest

Future Grandchildren

The planet isn't dying, but it is responding to all of us.
We are all for the most part plundering this planet in the name of profits.
Soon temperatures will rise during the day to 120 degrees plus,
and then plummet below freezing shortly after dusk.
Sea Levels are rising worldwide and once arable land is now dust.
Our planet isn't dying, it is fighting back with great vengefulness,
but that won't be the reason for the assured extinction of all of us.
Everyone is too preoccupied with providing and surviving,
in this obsolete competitive profit driven monetary system,
which we blindly follow and accept without any question,
generation after generation, after generation, after generation,
which is counter productive for everyone struggling to make a living.
Most don't have the energy, thus no desire for any self educating.
That sadly will be the reason directly responsible for our definite extinction.
Our grandchildren of the future will look back upon us in disgust wondering,
"Didn't you see it coming? How Could You Just DO NOTHING!?"

Inside a Farm House

It all happened in an isolated farm house
Naughty rats milking cows with their eyes closed
Gluttonous dogs are sent on errands to butchery
Irritating foxes keep guard on fowl houses
Dairy cows plow arable land to plant roasted maize
Each hungry bull bleats in own shade like sheep
Frail calves praising their mothers for generosity
Annoying hare the milk seller gets lost everyday
Raising money bags that are eaten by termites
Monkey the farm owner idles in office gossiping
“How does this happen? I asked myself
Only gazes greet me from the onlookers
“Unless you are a stranger here, ask more questions”
Security guards told me with curled mouths
“Everything excellent”, I responded and vanished

grateful gardener -

three flowers ...
          of extraordinary bloom
     seeds and earth, spun together in chaos

          soil of arable value, some more or less ... firm,
     but challenge not the care of the tenders - their loving ambitions
they gardened and provided with nurturing hands

     far-from-perfect, the aliment entrusted ...
not always in accord, but consistently full hearts for the task
          oh, those blossoms were, as any, pressed by the elements

for life is as much the storms, as it is the fair and fine
          but the roots were strong and reaching
     what they sprung, hearty and bright and graceful -

          as imperfectly perfect as childhood dreams
     now, I stand back and watch them gather light and wings
drink rain, bend in the wind, fold their petals in twilight ...

     seeding new buds and blooms of their own
for that is the way of flowers ...
          their beauty, blessing.







Submitted on June 3, 2020
To the "Brian's Select 3, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest
Brian Strand, Sponsor.

Watch Who You Neighbor

In our neighborhood, moved a hermetic man named Nit who was gross, unseemly, and unbearable,
The neighbors sent me to see if I could muster up something about him that was care-able.
I sat down on his blue flowered chair-able putting my feet on his hassock, which was quite terrible.
After getting to know him, I suggested a shower, a shave, and a chin that was less hair-able.
Then I helped him select some clean clothes that were handy, free, and quite wearable.
I paraded him down the sidewalk to speak with the neighbors, in particular, a woman named Arable.
They were both 29, never married, loved kittens, and began to think of each other as Marr-able.
They now have two unkempt children, and seventy-four unspayed kittens which makes the neighborhood terrible.

Orchards of Opportunity

Orchards of Opportunity 

Alone in the orchard of opportunities
surveying the ripened potential
I pondered the fruitful labor of others
enviously sniffing the succulence of success.

Knowing that their success was only mine
in theory, in dreams, in unlimited potential.
Before me lay the future’s untilled fields
awaiting a touch, a vision, an awakening.

Planting a thought, a theory, an inspiration,
tending it, winnowing the weeds of doubt,
nurturing a simple truth long dormant
in the arable corners of an open mind.


10/24/2016

submitted to – Opportunities – Poetry Contest

An Artist Deserves His Pay

When all our birds have flown
and milk-weed stalks pose bare,
the katydids are all gone
and leaves scatter here and there;

why would the prince come,
laden with bundles of grain—
his arable year's sum—
and not expect to gain?

We who scoop his yield,
feast on his amplitude,
then bare his playing field,
are insulting and rude.

Please accept this check,
portion out a bit more;
lift us off this poop deck,
we most humbly implore.

Green Future

Green lush of green 
lush green is green
a leaf of language 
a branch of word 
a flagstone steps 

Heart of the earth is free, 
white flowers
Clean heart, 
fine arts literature
sketching art 
arable land 
planting gratitude

Green is nature 
cool breeze 
citing cloud 
loyal heart 
clarity of thinking 
for the future!

Scrabble

Scramble in life of a 
man. 
Is sequel to gamble 
and grumble 
Thinking that he is 
humble 
Because he could 
afford an apple. 
Men begin to play 
him like scrabble. 
As a sample for the 
simple. 
On-till he finds the 
temple.
Commit your life to 
him who is ABLE. 
It will not crumble, 
crumple or fumble 
Which are triple -
sorority. 
You will neither look 
rumpled nor tumbled. 
It is all a parable 
that saves from 
trouble 
Which is a seed of 
struggle 
Mostly for the 
'arable farmer'.
Yet not like the 
carpenters hammer.

Green House of the Sick Man

"Green House of the Sick Man" 
Imagining the lush, trickled and tickled
By spray of light thoughts, my healing possibly
To be that clover in full bloom again 
My body looked more like onion weed

I wished for the irrigation from the botanist
These thoughts, they want to crop up as
He taps on both my knees, offering some advice
"You won't sprout from your bed for a couple days.
Don't forget ventilation, open those windows. "

My cold frame was evidence I had not been taking my pesticides
A fodder for other animals' discussions downstairs 
Not ready yet, but don't put me out to pasture for them
It is my job to sell at the marketplace, rising to full radiance 

Though feelings of worry might crop up, wondering 
About my yield, I might yield, but never concede 
I coughed up less nutrients than yesterday 
Still an arable land I wish to be a legume
And be with my friends again, all peas in a pod.

• Short Arable Poems
• Famous Arable Poems
• Best Arable Poems
• Read Arable Poems
• Long Arable Poems
• Arable Quotes