Countrysides Poems | Examples

Starry Night

Composing thoughtful song about Van Gogh
     strikes the soul how with strokes of his brush (bright
with suffering he knew) he used life to show
     fields of wheat; countrysides; a starry night

(in brilliant color); comets; light effects;
     and galaxies! But genius took its time.
Opposed to novelty, without perfect
     sense, peers decried Van Gogh's pioneering prime.

Still, beauty poured out from his tortured mind,
     which bled and perished to incarnate art.
To Van Gogh's brilliance, the world has enshrined
     and blessed the spirit of his enormous heart!

Hence, his quintessence haunts our lives today,
a Zeitgeist, ghost, which never fades away.

At The Cemetery

Writing is a gamble

we put in our words,
pull the slot
and read back our
cherries and lemons -- 

the object is to publish
our addiction

to connect with a reader

our casinos, the clan-forums
of acceptance and rejection

The poet
(excluding the jingle writer) --
least paid-out of all 
literary devotionals -- 
priest and parishioner of countrysides
and hearts, secretly, vainly wonders 
if his life’s refrain
but another of man’s many dear epitaphs

summaries in stone

unweeded

and forgotten --

traveling

enjoying the wealth 
touring countrysides scene 
taking a road trip

Nature's Children

Gardens are nature’s children
Adopted by you and me,
We dress them how we want them
And invite all our friends to see.

Nature does most of the growing
Shows us colours in an array,
So then we can choose what we like
And organise a display.

Of course it takes hard work
To grow a garden from some seeds,
And I don’t like hard work too much
So my garden’s full of weeds.

Some big ones are called parks
Where children play on slides.
And then there are the giant ones
We call them countrysides.

The Red Train, to the north pole of course

To The North Pole Of Course  (Part Two)  
 
The farmlands, bridges and countrysides woosh by in a rush 
then vanish before my eyes at a hundred and twenty six miles per hour.
 My mind is traveling at the speed of Donner and Blitzen.  It goes through a magical hourglass only to nestle inside a cinnamon scented wagon that is infused with the clanking of fine china cups.  A peppery scent of hot chocolate perfumes the air and lands on my palate, sweetly.   
While I am being ushered forth into Christmas, I sift through time, backpedaling swifter than Santa's mistletoe kiss. 
I hear his rippling laughter and melt like butter.  

My extra sensory perception picks up the echoes through the halls of my memory
and I say to myself, " I think I'm going home, to the North Pole of course."

Gaia

O' Mother
Beloved mother

With your voluminous beauty

From majestic mountaintops to verdant countrysides
From mammoth oceans and seas to quiet lakes and ponds where ducks reside
A fertile basin that gives and keeps on giving 
Organic love that's naturally comforting and nurturing
Winsome trees abound; yes,  I see regal redwoods and sublime pines
A haven for birds and squirrels
Man has his place there too; there he can sit and have peace of mind
And oh,  the lovely,  colorful flowers for industrious bees
Redolently spawning life through a spring or summer breeze

O' Mother
Beloved mother

With your alluring,  comforting arms
Tenderly drawing man and all life nigh your
bosom with resplendent charm

A Romantic Word Noctume

much more than this
might I speak
as your lover
lover to lover
in unix time
that great new beginning
we as one to unbrel neath the night
what a wonderful world
the almonds scented the night
would kisses
calm the raging shores
my selfishness
do speak to my need
I be alone no more
cause love to
make me quiver
to sing at a pitched voice
loving you is so easy
loving you
is my choice
oh sing my song
to seranate me
love me in heaps and mounds
love me on
the countrysides
love me in cities and towns
speak me as endearing as
a whisper
sing me bold and proud
I am yours we are
together
in your presence
and when your not around
each kiss a new
beginning
what wonders to
be found
love me
now that we are together
lift me high
beyond the clouds

Untitled

Wake up! You awake to cliffside turn-tables--mountains crumble into the divots of the record; mountain goats float upon ethereal notes. They bleat in conjunction with dusty LPs. Soon enough, cities rise from the mountain passes, urban ghettos spring up like wildflowers. Graffiti artists sneak out to complete works. The absence of pastels, traditional paint, and chalk is too much to contend with. They must use others. All tear open their chests and remove their ribs. They use marrow and blood to make art. The artists walk about countrysides. An afternoon of binge drinking and screwing whores. They brag about their achievements as they approach a gaggle of street poets. An altercation soon occurs, creativity flows. Architectural dreamscapes pop up from nowhere...

Springtime

Countrysides calling,
dull and dreary towns.
Tides of joy hitting,
poor men's simple huts,
bringing spring of growth.

Sunny, funny
Lively weather
Sowing seeds of
Peace and pleasure.

Scents of sprouts
Sunshine show
Rainbow sky

Lovely
Reborn

Spring.


Second Place in BRIAN'S CHOICE S,any form,any theme Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand

Honorable Mention in Diminished Hexaverse Poetry Contest sponsored by Emile Pinet

Black and White

I thought black and white 
Is the history of gunpowder 
Exhausted along border points 
To restore fragile peace 
To ease unilateral justice 
And the rule of lore 


They say black and white 
Is justice meted legally out
By oppressor to the hapless 
Vanquished in hot pursuit 
Of a beautifully loathed 
Sensual normalcy. 


Some think black and white 
Is the lecture of a dimly lit Europe 
To desperate continent in the dark
To nay set ablaze their houses 
So as to keep away crafted darkness 
Of black bull mounting female white. 


Indeed black and white in reality 
Is the presentation of coveted peace prize 
To the makers of atomic bombs dropped 
To decimate populated rural countrysides
Just to terminate disastrous nuclear 
War fought on political fronts.

The Silent Truth

the hidden truths the silent truths
you come to bury me but i just may bury you
the burden carries me further by every step 
the pain i suffered has carried me so close to hell
you better carefully measure the methods you be using against me 
and if they're excessive toward  my demise then i wish you success
nothing to reminisce but only my regrets as i counter them with subliminal messages
stung by the whelps that com from bull netals
i can see the mountains from miles the countrysides full of nothing but rebels 
as a catalyst to catapults the counter measure to balance the force of the battlefront, tragedies and triumphs, and principalities and the power's force 
and frankly yes that's a mouthful like a sea of troubles so far at this point we are incompatible, a branch snaps cracks feel the power shift ,a shallow heart feels the shadow's kiss,  from where the war was raged from here to Shiloh to the cornfields

Scintillating Snowflakes

Wintry white wisps wondrously whirl
Soft sparkling snowflakes silently swirl
Coolly carpeting countrysides carefully
Dazzling diamonds dancing delightfully 


Submitted Contest forms A contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
28th December 2014

Lament, Translation of Paul Verlaine's Poem: Lamento

Lament, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s poem : Lamento

					Ma mie est morte.
					Plourez mes yeux.
(from an old poet of the fourteenth century whose name escapes me. Paul Verlaine)

The town hoists its high roofs
Of a thousand zig-zagging hoods.
A sound of joyous bubbly words
Rises up to the heavens, reassuring voice.
____What this vile gaiety does to me
		This gaiety of the city !

What vastness of peace reigns over the land !
The bird sings within a great oak tree,
Midday renders the plains all shiny
That turn golden at the setting of the sun.
----Little does it irk me your glory pure
		O ! Nature !

With the signals of her waves
With her solemn moan,
Call to us the vast ocean :
All of us, dreamers and sailors.
----What do you want again of me
		Sonorous sea ?

----Ah ! Neither the waves of the Oceans,
Nor the countrysides and their shadows,
Nor the cities of ceaseless noises
That giants raised over lands,
Nothing will bring to life my beloved lover
	O ! So long in deep slumber.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013

As Life Begins To Wane

On countrysides animal scurry along, leaving footprints

In the carbonized material of this planet.

Channel surfing & empty ink pens,

Pepsi & wadded up candy wrappers

All over the house remannts of LIFE

Breathing all over us.

 

LIFE moves over us like a rapist in some dark room 

We somehow forgot about

In the brightest hours;

It leaves footprints

In the carbonized material of this skin.

 

Passing through streets burning with loneliness & boredom;

Sometime I often wonder about the perplexity

All of it stains upon our memory.

 

Midst preposterous pink & turquoise blue color

Our LIFE begins to petal,

slightly bruised.

 

-------------

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring Again.(Five Haiku's)

Flowers seek the sun-
As newborn lambs find their feet
Life begins anew.

The sweltering sun-
Beams down on summertime fun
Hosepipe ban again.

Leaves fall from the trees
How the nights start closing in.
Everything dying.

Snow on the hilltops
Nothing seems to be alive 
Except crackling fires.

Sun and rain give life-
Once more to countrysides.
Spring is here again.

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