Landlord Poems | Examples

The Wrong Landlord

On one’s ability, nothing wrong to confide
needless gratification, glory hunting is wide
chances of victory from a one-man army divide.

Resilience that is bloated will be swallowed by the tide
seeking attention is their life, on a horse it rides
to condescend and to look down also riding side by side.

High-level difficulty to follow a guide
adopting modesty and quiet, the desire had lied
even in the smallest hole, self-importance won’t hide.

Everything seems beneath, so nothing to abide
the house caught a self-inflicting fire, and its residents died
the same report is of the properties whose landlords are pride.

The Landlord Calls

There’s a tabby ally cat
And a very scabby rat
And a vampire bat
And a very hungry gnat
And a horrid little brat
And they lived in a flat
Where a man in a hat
Saw a stain on the mat
It’s an awful splat
Like a small cow pat
So we need to chat 
Because where we’re at
And from where I’m sat
There’s some tit for tat
Like a democrat
Or a diplomat
With a caveat
To avoid a spat 
Re your habitat
There’s a well known stat
When a pike meets sprat
That the sprat says drat
Can I pay for that
And with cash begat…
Secretariat

From Stone Field No Crop Yield

Please, fancy not stone field:
It assures none crop yield. 
From death won't one shield,
When guns one's killers wield...

Only a big name yield:
"A Landlord" owners wield 
And causeless questions field 
From the press that lands shield!

Then, choose between crop yield 
And mere names that lands wield:
From those of a stone field 
I shan't fail to self shield

Free To Roam

When devouring a hot chicken pie
An advertised flat caught my eye,
     I would hazard a guess
     Judging from its address
That the asking price wasn’t too high. 

I collapsed in a state of deep gloom
When the landlord denied me that room,
     He said “Nothing’s worse
     Than a chap who writes verse!”
Within minutes I started to fume.

After snatching some six hours of sleep
I thought I should challenge that creep,
     For with scant explanation
     His discrimination
Might cause a young snowflake to weep.

I knew I should counter his crime
With an angry yet passionate rhyme,
     He was powerful and scary
     And so arbitrary,
And his property’s well past its prime.

My letter, dispatched the next day,
Employed words that I’d rather not say
     (They are not in the bible),
     Then he sued me for libel,
So his rent I’m not able to pay.

So the lesson is easy to see -
Do not venture to write poetry.
     It could end in defeat
     Then you’re stuck on the street,
Simply begging for coffee or tea.

The Martapuran

Rest from world-wild gentrification,
city by citation, 
never honking hurt inhabitants.

Armoured by cultural displacement,
no fraught with controversy, 
peace and ceasing.

Landlords raising, 
no ethnic minorities, 
landlording themselves.

Potholes might get filled,
but the heart line might not appear.
Nothing happens along racial lines,
glorifying the guests is mandatory.

Graciously, without feeling offense,
No subjecting to extensive questioning:

"What is your religion?"

Landlord Or Guest

We are the landlords 
in our own hearts, 
but guests in other hearts,
no matter how long 
our stay in their territories lasts

A Quit Notice

His quit notice hung with a tack
Bears his landlord’s wish that he pack:
Disappear with his threadbare sack
And not leave behind his rack;
Both now strapped on his confused back,
His famous peace pierced with this hack!
No comforting whisky from a just left shack,
His belongings bespeaking his lack,
His dragging feet his customary slack,
As he keeps weighing a night at Hotel De Jack
Run by Abusive Jack,
Sometimes in a hurry worth a whack!

My Father Sylvester Ekwobi

A story about my Sylvester,
Should yield a booster,
Every honest sentence defying a duster
His preferred designation, “A father” not Master.

Thirty-five years in an office 
That smelt of telephone and letter
But he wouldn’t telephone the police,
Relationships patching up for better

My own Sylvester 
Never bowed to any harvester,
Himself, a green finger,
Whose farm jobs didn’t linger.

My own Sylvester 
Would rather he chose polyester
In lieu of Esther
Or Augusta, 
The unlikeliest womanizer
And as  unlikelier rabble rouser.

My own Sylvester
Would’ve accepted a multitude’s lord
And just ended up a landlord,
Which little dropped him he might hoard
For infrequently paid rent
By tenants, on money matters, no Gent.
 
My own Sylvester 
Had sought to be a star
But rather won its scar, 
Which one could still celebrate in a bar

Over his uncertainty I pine
On  his being nearly Eighty Nine.

Sorry for losing your wife twenty four years ago
On 19th Nov. 1997, letting go.

The Landlord Regime

The Landlord Regime

They’re sick of the homeless they say the city’s gone to pot
But let’s look at the statistics and let’s see want we have got
We’ve got landlords and slumlords charging an arm and a leg
And then they wonder why people all over are forced to beg
They want to see references with a down payment for heat
Where does one get that when they're coming off the street
You need to have a  credit check if you want to live here
We'll throw in a police record check just to make it clear
We only want the tenants who are well off and employed
And the undesirable jobless folk we’ll  just strive to avoid
So how is a person who's on a fixed income meant to deal
When expectations from landlords are clearly so unreal

Anti Cannabis Landlord

Early in the morning
I heard a knock
On my door
I opened the door
It's my landlord, oh lord!
He seemed happy, thank God
Then he said bhangi, oh no!
Do you smoke it?
Hell no!

Momma Earth Is Landlord

Wild animals sure have this stuff down pat
No worries, no bills, no looking for a habitat
Landlord is Momma Earth
Bedroom's quite diverse
Wherever they hang their antlers, that be that

Landlord Killed

Our tree, 
  Just off the highway,
    Where the children hid,
       Was a happy place. 
          We ran. We sang.
             We had games to play.

              Our fortress,
           Our tree,
        Our hideout
     From monsters and parents,
 And sometimes, our friends.

 But the children ran.
    The monsters forcing them away.
       So greed could take their place.

          The liars and cheaters
             On the left.
               The crackheads and thieves 
             Below.

          And me,
       On my top right corner, 
     All alone.
  It was never a haven. 
Now, not even a home.

  Memories soak the walls.
     And the ghosts through me out.
        Now I can sleep without
           Fear of the screaming 
              And glass crashing, yet...

           I miss the laughter.
        And the games.
     And the tree where 
  The children hid,
From the problems
  And the thinking,
     That the landlord took
      
                Away.

Enemies of the Sonnet Man- "the Landlord"

The Landlord is a powerful person,
So once a month my mind is full of doubt,
And I watch as my battle scars worsen,
While trying to avoid getting kicked out.
It really is "hard out here for a pimp,
When trying to raise money for the rent,"
Because, when The Landlord knocks, I go limp,
Since the rent money was already spent.
And, I hate when he just stands at the door,
Trying to see if he can break my will,
With me under the bed, facing the floor,
Wishing that I had a different skill.
       This will be a battle that rages on,
       And I will stay here until he is gone.

The Landlord

The Landlord

When finally at 80 Sammy died
Polly gave me from the pantry packets
of dry noodle soup that Sammy
to the end drank down as supper.
Tureens of it, with swallows
from the pint I’d smuggle in, kept 
Sammy blinking at the light
the final weeks. I lived below them
at the time and needed more than soup 
but in the parlor where they laid him out
we sat on high-back chairs amid the flowers
and marveled at how straight our Sammy lay.
Who prepared him must have brought  
his gnomic back, twice at least,
full force across a knee.


Donal Mahoney

Our Trusting Landlord

This earth
Oh what a curious thing to perceive
Existing within its home, the Universe
A unique, rare and aqueous marble 
With a lifespan well surpassing our own
We call it our home, but it is only for rent
Things will begin to change 
Humanity will try resist
We are in a system that has long been set in motion
A plan that we cannot stop
Green
What a faction of false hope
A color stained in negativity
Greed, Money, Power, Politics
Oh what a sly plan
A thorn stabbed in the lions paw
Our advantage taken against an orb in suffering
This trusting earth
Telling a secret
Our society
Screaming it to the world

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