Best Inhospitable Poems


Premium Member Stars Tempt Our Senses


It was time to visit the stars
To embrace them with my senses
Though the price was astronomic
I saved up for the expenses

Most think stars are unreachable
Due to the heat that they emit
But perhaps they’re very cautious
Just like a candle barely lit

To my delight way out in space
I manned microphones to listen
And those astral bodies obliged
With unheard of stellar hissin’

Yet as I approached a star’s sphere
After flying the cosmic trades
The brightness was so intense, that
I had to double up my shades

And I can describe what I saw:
Just imagine a sunrise view
As seen, not through a broad window
But rather in the room with you

So no doubt that shine would lead one
To coming to the conclusion
That stars are inhospitable
But my suit was safe for fusion

I attempted smelling their scent
But was honestly not impressed
As the smell was like burnt popcorn
Which is an odor I detest

I couldn’t say that star was burnt
For that flawed logic is misplaced
Yet that stench made me hesitate
To give a roasted star a taste

Sure it twinkles in the dark sky
Like a sugary cosmic treat
But just like mentioning candy
It would probably wreck my teeth

Lastly, touching a star is like
A swimming pool in the hot sun
With those spots of warmer water
Times a million degrees, plus one

Visiting the cosmos was worth 
Having stars arouse my senses
Yet it isn’t for everyone
And comes with some consequences

But don’t you take my word for it
When you are traveling in space
Since stars are an acquired love
To be approached at your own pace
Categories: inhospitable, adventure, senses, stars,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sir Ernest Shackleton

Born in Ireland in eighteen seventy four
He was a remarkably brave explorer
Three times to Antartica he did go
To that barren wilderness of ice and snow.

Once with Captain Scott and twice on his own
And it was on his third visit that his bravery became known
The expedition was to reach the southern pole
For all the great explorers, it was the ultimate goal.

The Weddell sea was freezing and tightened its grip
And crushed the Endurance, the expedition ship
The crew saved all the equipment and food stores too
They were stranded on an ice floe there was nothing they could do.

But the floe breaks up and on the sea it floats
So the order was given to launch the life boats
They set sail for Elephant island in the southern ocean
And with worsening conditions approached it with caution.

It was a temporary move, they knew they couldn't stay
Shackleton had to get help, there was no other way
Except for five crewmen all the rest did remain
On the island for four months with its inhospitable terrain.

South Georgia was the place that they needed to get to
From there they would be able to launch a rescue
Eight hundred nautical miles they had to row and sail
Through gigantic waves with snow, ice and hail.

Stromness whale station, it was their goal
But on their boat the harsh conditions had taken their toll
South of the island they had to land on a beach
Thirty six hours north was help, they needed to reach.

Three of the crew were taken ill, no more could they take
So Shackleton and two others, a long trek they did make
They trekked in conditions that could have caused harm
But they reached the whale station and raised the alarm.

The three sick crewman were rescued, thankfully still alive
And the twenty two on Elephant island were struggling to survive
Penguin and seal meat was what they had to eat
But they kept their hopes up not admitting defeat.

On August the thirtieth in nineteen sixteen
A Chilean navy ship on the horizon was seen
It was Shackletons fourth attempt to rescue his crew
Their ordeal was now over, but hell they'd been through. 


Written 9th January 2018
Categories: inhospitable, natural disasters,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Ember

Oh, my Inglenook my Inglenook
a whole life time spent within thee,
my name is Ember 
I create patterns 
of dancing shadows
a need to be stoked constantly. 
I can be an inhospitable harrowing flame
for those that dare to glare 
and too hot to the touch,
phantom notions I can conceive
when low and in a mood
and the chill becomes apparent
I die.
It is so cold out there
beyond the glowing rays 
of flickering abate,
a need of more fuel to score
or the silence continues
till flame again breaks through
by the fire just renewed.
But one day
an empty fireplace
where life once reigned supreme,
someone to rake 
through the spent ashes 
to return to where one cometh from
so, the clergy tells everyone.
To the wind one is scattered
no void intended; one’s death
a space for the new born
a tiny Ember renewed
to inherent this inglenook,
the process to start all over again
from spring’s kindling
To winter’s deadwood.

© Harry J Horsman 2022
Categories: inhospitable, senses,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Oceans

My boyfriend (Peter) and I went down to New Haven Harbor today.

Let’s face it, we’re surrounded by oceans,
and most of them are downright inhospitable.

I live near the ocean, (pointing) it’s right over there.
I love the ocean, tripping over whenever I’ve time to spare.

The way I’m fawning over it, you’d think I know it well.
But I really only love its edges and undulating swells.

It’s like a book that I’ve judged by its cover,
a beautiful stranger taken as a lover,
or a pie when I’ve only tasted the crust.
I love something, I suppose, I’ve barely even touched.
 
Peter says that black, inky “outer-space” is a low-viscosity liquid,
another, even vaster ocean that’s more dangerous and rarely visited.

The air that we breathe is an ocean - our own, vast, atmosphere -
in it swim creatures too small to see, but to the naked eye it looks clear.
It flows, eddies and swells - birds swoop in it so you can tell.

Of course, the ocean has issues - it's hardly news - corrosion, erosion, sharks 
and drowning - and the way the ocean lets the moon and air push it around.

What I love most is its motion, and how it reflects the sun and the moon. 

Did I mention that hanging-out by the ocean makes for a pleasant afternoon?
Categories: inhospitable, books, boyfriend, ocean, space,
Form: Rhyme

World of White and Blue

Sea of blue, 
crags of white, 
bitter wind, 
majestic sight 

For this is world of white 
and blue 
white mountains of ice, 
blue sea salty and true 

midnight sun on icy wastes, 
cool reflected light, 
pristine wilderness, 
not to everyone's taste 

Stark white cold, 
wind eroded columns of ice 
roar of wind 
roar of sky 

Icebergs scattered in the blue 
raw wind strips me bare, 
the environment does not care.... 
about you. 

Sea,sky and ice, 
nature's freezing cocktail, 
untameable wilderness, 
man cannot sacrifice. 

Pure elements, 
to touch the senses 

Inhospitable sea,sky and ice, 
its very extremes, 
to prevent men of this world 
carrying out their dreams 

Pure cold energy roaring, 
with bitter intent, 
gulls soaring, 
men......spent 

Nature's cold refuge, 
from man and his dreams. 
White armour protects,temperature deflects, 
man's subterfuge 

white mountain, 
white water, 
white wind 

Blue sea, 
blue sky, 
blue wind 
world of white and blue
Categories: inhospitable, imagination, inspirational, life, nature,
Form: Ballad

Generation Z the End of the Line

No one wants love they only want likes, 
freely protesting they haven’t got rights! 

Raised by the system playing the victim, 
that’s the ambition that they envision. 

Say you’re offended by my point of view, 
offending me when you react like you do. 

Opinions upset and leave you devastated, 
you grown up babies leave me fascinated. 

People faking that they have mental illness 
surly those people must have such an illness 

People live lies just to gain your approval 
that is a skill that says you are not useful 

People who make livings posting online 
they have ambitions for income decline 

Kids think they know because they’re educated 
haven’t found out their futures overrated 

Twenty somethings think as adults they rule 
Oblivious all adults were that age before 

People are critical then hypocritical 
inviting you in just to be inhospitable 

Some people think evolution’s a given, 
then why are the youth less evolved than a gibbon!?
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: inhospitable, age, people,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Sixty-Six Years Ago Today - 7 July 1948

Sixty-Six years ago today a very naïve farm-boy left the Hoosier farm,
To seek adventure beyond the horizon since farming had lost its charm.
He enlisted in the Air Force, a knight in blue to keep the nation free.
My gosh! Come to think about it, that unsophisticated lad was me!

Since I was only seventeen, I had to get my reluctant Ma to sign for me.
She came from a Quaker background and abhorred all strife, you see.
Pa was ambivalent about the matter - just one less mouth to feed, said he.
I marched off to face the future, another warrior for our family tree!

Harassment began once I arrived at the inhospitable induction station.
Docs had me bend over, then stand, turn my head and cough for observation.
They probed and prodded and stuck needles in my arms for inoculation.
Oh! The abject misery and humiliation of it all just to serve my nation!

Next came the swearing-in where I vowed to uphold the Constitution.
A fiendish sarge then assumed command and began his nasty persecution.
"Fergit yer Mom, Dad and Maggie Mae" said he, "Yer butt belongs to me!"
Just hours on duty and I was homesick for the farm, pining to be free!

They put me on a choo-choo to Lackland AFB, Texas, for my basic training.
I was shorn of all hair - by now my enthusiasm and patriotism was waning.
Ah! But when I donned that Air Force suit of blue, I stood proud and tall!
If my pals behind a plow and mule could see me now! I was having a ball!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

That naïve farm boy went on to serve 30 years in the Air Force, retiring 
1 August 1978.
Categories: inhospitable, humorous, military,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Love In the Jungle

Cerulean sky in the quiet jungle was shook up by the unexpected tremor of a white and red bimotor plane. Larry, a tall, olive skin, green eyes, was the handsome pilot of the plane called Lara. Mechanical problems obligated Larry to an emergency landing.
In the crystalline river was a lady called Lara. She was camping for two days in the inhospitable surroundings. A heart break made her to take a time out from her hectic work schedule as general surgeon. Footsteps were heard in the dry leaves. Lara looked behind her, to see the impressing presence of Larry.  She thought she was going to faint.

Larry felt a skip in her heart when he saw Lara. She was very identical to his deceased beloved. Without uttering a word, they felt love at first sight. Larry asked to Lara her name. They introduced themselves. Lara was packing to return to her home. Larry told Lara about the plane incident. She offered Larry to take him to his home. By coincidences of life, they live in the same urbanization. Before stepping out of the car, Larry gave to Lara a business card with his phone number. He was the CEO of an important tobacco exporting company. One week later, Lara took her cell phone and called Larry. 

He invited her to a dinner to an elegant restaurant of the city. While they were dining, Larry told to Lara that he wants to know more about her. After concluding the dinner, they agreed to continue communicating by phone, letting that time decide their romantic future. Two years passed, when Larry invited Lara to dinner waiting a surprise to Lara. An engagement ring was inside of the rose bouquet. Larry asked Lara if she would marry him. Lara accepted the proposal. Wedding planification started. Fue most expected day for Larry and Lara arrived. 

Larry was wearing a black tuxedo. The ivory bridal gown of Lara was stunning. Cala flowers and pink roses were part of the church decoration. Lara walked the aisle when Larry was waiting for her. After the religious ceremony, they were declared husband and wife. They left the church in a white limousine to the reception in a five star hotel. Blissful days were part of their married life until death separate them, ending a romance that began in a jungle.

The End
Categories: inhospitable, love, engagement,
Form: Free verse

Care For Mother Earth and Her Everything

Spare a thought
For buffaloes, bulls and bears groaning, mourning, starving
Under your collar don’t blow hot
Making rivers and rodents sad, carving 

Space and time you don’t own
Encroaching on privileges animals and plants possess
In their comfort and discomfort zone
You dare to distress and stress

Best to minimize the plight
Reptiles and rabbits confront every morning and afternoon
With no morsels of grub in sight
As savannas and simians croon

Shambling in starvation style
Bulging bellies boast as labels of stables and fables of gluttony
For a convoy of jalopies cruising in single file
Pay last respect to Tony

Who’d passed on in pitiful poverty
Impecunious
Although in death no novelty
Comes through under the guise of ingenious

Crafting of manipulation 
But you’d do well to sacrifice creature comforts to elevate the fate
Endured by long suffering trees and tigers whose daily nourishment ration
Ought to funnel a debate

On the injustice witnessed globally when a tiny few
Gorges on two thirds of world resources
With neither care nor clue
On the abuse fauna and flora sources

Suffer
Dwindle
Prefer
Decrease as the self satisfying spindle

Spins and spins
With little thought on air and water pollution
Pins
On environmental dissolution

Metamorphosing the Earth into a less habitable planet
Treated with disdain
Depleting the Earth’s net
Worth as polluters gain bargains again and again

Super profits
Turning a blind eye
To sarcasm skits, bludgeon bits and tendentious tweets
Lying inside a liberal lie

That all’s well
Environment concerns mean nothing
As imbalances and inhospitable elements swell
To spell doom unless you start caring for Mother Earth and her everything.
Categories: inhospitable, poems,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Another World

Deep in the forest was an inaccessible cliff
that soared high above the tall tree canopy.
People had wondered for years what lay beyond
yet the landscape was so inhospitable none dared
to try to reach the impassable cliff and scale it.

A hunting party got led astray as they tracked
after a herd of mountain bearded goats.
The chase had been long and very hard
as their elusive prey kept far ahead, tempting
them ever onwards. Now with night approaching
they were caught far from home with no shelter.

They searched along the cliff base for a cave
finally one spotted a narrow track.
With trepidation they followed it into the cliff
it twisted and turned getting narrower,
darkness coated them almost smothering them.

With brush torches they plunged ever deeper
into its midst, the rocks covered in green slime.
Which gave off an odd luminous light that
distorted everything in the strangest way.
Giving rise to images of long lost creatures
that flicked and danced in the eerie light.

Along way ahead they could see sky
and odd trees on the distant horizon.
Finally reaching the end they looked
out on to a very different world.
Everywhere they looked were new plants.

Wondrous plants with enormous fruits
and strange multi coloured birds
that flocked to them without any fear,
settling on shoulders chattering away.
Deer came up and nudged them gently
seeking their pockets with wet tongues.

Flowers spanning six to nine feet
made for the perfect resting places.
Cosy and bouncy the weary hunters
were soon fast asleep and woke invigorated.
The stream bubbled by contentedly.

Its waters were crystal clear and sweet
and enormous fish lazily swam by.
They spent a few days there exploring
all the treasures that nature offered.
Reluctantly they made their way back
and excitedly told friends and family.

They scoffed at their tales with disbelief
until in frustration they led them back to the cliff.
For hours they searched in vain for the trail,
They looked at each other incredulously
Had they just dreamt it? We will never know!
Categories: inhospitable, fantasy, imagination,
Form: Epic

The Secret of Total Gentleness and Aggression

Why people somewhere so kind and gentle
and somewhere not? 
Why people in Saint-Petersburg ,
Moskow,  Astana, Bishkek
Look so impolite, inhospitable and  unfriendly?
Ask about it the happy inhabitants
or better look himself for what 
is the best  product  of free society 
this kind of people  who lived in Basel, Antwerp, Quebec 
with Oslo  or those
who  fast  transformed  for better  sort of governing - 
Turkian, Philippinians and Ukrainians possible also.

The people of free society and reason
or those who going out from ruling prison 
appreciated choice and initiation
and marvelously transformed own identity
as those who  better controlled  themselves and government,
they hoped for only for freedom  and own diligence
and make wonders gradiently
 under the hand of free market  invisible and patiently.

And what do you say about authoritarian and enslaved nation,
there are all people depended from will of corrupt  guidelanes ,
where freedom, honesty and choices  in total deficit?
Poor citisens there  mentally downgraded
early or later hardened and stoned  their souls  to anthracite
for surviving  in  merciless  and no free  circumstances.   
That was a clearly answer
for such sorts of  questions -
why people somewhere so kind and gentle
and somewhere not?
Categories: inhospitable, social,
Form: Verse

Unwarranted Uninvited Party Pooper Dinner Guest

And here tonight I assumed

This would be just another one
of those average dinner parties

With a stream of boring associates and
their plus 1 partner or other

But wow
Hey you
Are so different from all the other's

Why I am so glad I bumped into you
and for you taking your time to introduce
yourself and engage with me in
conversation

Bacause you are so
Insightful
Engaging
Witty
Knowledgeable
&
Informative

I am so glad you came
Where have you been my entire life
I'll have to take your number down

So you can tell me so much more
about how I can be a better person and
how I could live a more fulfilled existence

And also again please as I am sure
you will begin by reminding me about
all of the charitable works you do and
endless causes you deficate your
spare time to

Because I especially loved and was
interested in your story about how
you have come up with a plan to
tackle climate change 

Because I myself unlike you who is an
actual firm true believer in God and do 
believe

I so to do also believe nature is beyond the
realms and out of humanities control
and remit

So once again may I say thank you for 
coming and the pleasure of your company
and forthright opinion

As who on earth wouldn't thoroughly
love having welcoming you a guest
into our home 

Having to spend a night for fear being
thought of as inhospitable lacking
manners and appearing rude

Wouldn't then enjoy appreciate and want
to to be lectured to about and have
pointed out all the countless thing's
they are going and doing wrong

By all accounts no 1 else but 
 themselves has anything good
 to say about

And never actually got or anyone
invited in the 1st place and the only 
reason they are here is because

They have no qualms Inviting themselves 
as do they have expressing and imposing
their own personal uninvited opinion on
other's

And did they also forget to mention they
are also vegan meat is murder rude
to serve and eat in the presence of them

Smoke kill's and and if you want to do
it kindly go outside

And do you know just how much damage
Alcohol causes then peel off random
statistics

So many fun facts
Categories: inhospitable, slam,
Form: Free verse

I Curse the Rains Down In Africa

Child reads the stories
Of great explorers
He dreams of deep jungles
And wonderful animals

But he does not realize
How dreadful the place is
Until he crosses one of the seas
And among foreigners he is

Some hate him because of his accent 
Others because his pale skin
Not just white but pale
Like a sick person according to them

This is somewhere else not Africa 
But Africa for pale faced boy is even worse
Animals fight between each other to
But at least they only fight to survive

Yet they will all eventually vanish 
Such is a peril of life
That which once was beautiful story of Dark Continent
Now is understood as inhospitable living dying hell

But beware of a curse 
And anger of man with face like death
Only he the fate can decide
Beware of wizard turning into warlock 

The song goes I bless the rains in Africa
Beware this turning opposite of that
The pale faced boy is now a man
And only he can save Africa if it does not destroy him first
Categories: inhospitable, africa, fantasy,
Form: Free verse

White Hair, Is It Fair

My hair is mostly white with streaks of black here and there
My white hair marks me as “aged” --- is that fair?
I don’t think or feel old (to which my body keeps disagreeing)
Just let me be who and what I am without age interfering
My opinions derive from education and experience
Each and all have been my deliverance:
Reading, listening, arguing, questioning,
Curiosity, studying, rejecting and accepting.

At 78 my brain functions minus dementia or senility
And if truth be told Men don’t have a monopoly
On Life’s options due to their relentlessly reiterated virility
Womanhood has Booked her place throughout the Ages
Profoundly and sometimes better than Manhood’s Pages
(Yet I’m thankful for Men being close-by anyway!
They’re the music, poetry, and humor in Life’s abundant Plays
So Diverse, yet hoarded and cherished as Life’s Bouquets).

All this irrelevant musing won’t get me anywhere
Let’s not digress but readdress the dilemma of my white hair
A naked cranium would be icy in cold winter weather
And if it won’t grow back going bald might not be vey clever
There is always dyeing, but only another temporary solution
Dye fades and white hair will reappear of its own volition 
Yet I love a rich auburn, and the right blonde shade can flatter
Black is harsh, and Browns won’t suit so do not matter
Purples, greens, pinks or rainbow are not my cup of tea
Hair coloring options or choices I cannot dictate 
Or expect others to like or dislike the same as me.

Dyeing my hair will habitually face budget restrictions
A loathed state of affairs that is an odious situation
Being poor demands tribute to that which is essential 
Like mortgage, utilities, eating daily (oh, so beneficial!)
Thinking, looking back and reviewing bygone years
I recall highs, lows, regrets, laughter and shed tears
I’ve earned the right to show off this head of white hair
Without dyeing, lamenting, defending or worrying if it is fair.

Perhaps it is time at last to say “Thanks” for the generous gift
I was given to walk Life’s unique (at times) inhospitable Course
Having had my share of rewards, recognition, grief and remorse
I now salute my 78 years with Good Show! Hip, Hip! Here! Here!
Glad to Be and now at ease wearing that mantle of White Hair
That serves as my symbol to Endure, Survive and Persevere.
© Carol Zic  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: inhospitable, age, humor, image,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Inspired and In Awe of Majestic Beauty

Inspired And in awe of Majestic Beauty.
.
Stagnant moss and patches of lichen
Cling to weathered uneven 
Sandstone dry stone walls
Segregating lush green moorland
Surrounded by silent sisters standing 
Lofty huge and tall 
As wholly clouds majestically  graze
On both idle pleasant and more inhospitable days
.
An unpredictable temperamental land
As seasons emerge and in an instant
Temperatures rise or plummet
A wild desolate place
A patchwork quilt of lush greens and tawny browns
Vista from tor and towering summit
.
Stretching for miles sweeping vale and steepled hill
Silence broken by raucous carrion crow
Perched upon the wiry lightening struck tree below
Carpets and thickets of purple heather
Provide home for various critter
And shelter from the harsh weather
.
Boisterous gales bellow and blow
The drifting blanket of snow 
Within winters icy grasp
That bites tender flesh as if by an asp
.
The raptor stretches it’s wings and takes flight
Riding upon unsteady thermals
Hunting for pray below
That leaves a trail of footprints below
.
The dilapidated uninhabited farmhouse up yonder hill
The old windmill It’s sails now still
The wind still whistles through
With its unforgiving icy chill
.
A landscape that largely time has forgot
Mainly unchanged for countless centuries
Draw the hiker with its rugged pleasantries
And never ceases to inspire 
And be admired.
.

Peter Dome©2020.
© Peter Dome  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: inhospitable, appreciation, creation, mountains,
Form: Verse
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