Long, wide, vast, high, dreadfully deep protective walls
Battlements, ramparts, bulwarks, and tower folders
Living quarters, arrow slits, gatehouses, and halls
Monstrous walls built as though with steel-alloy boulders
Water-filled deep massive moats to obstruct the foes
Bastions and merlons within majestic meadows
Forts and castles are mysteries of histories.
They are focal themes of bewildering stories.
I don’t like clothes, or non-water things.
Just my boat.
And as a wave comes through, it’s as if my boat could do a flip in the air.
Ocean paths are like a safe.
There are a million combinations to try.
And in trying, I could get distracted and drown.
Which is horrible and priceless, and I would never be found.
The bottom of the ocean?
I don’t like to be reminded of shipwreck.
I used to like clothes, and non-water things.
The last time I saw them was two months ago.
That’s what happens when you like boats.
When you like waves, salt water, and even seaweed.
I wonder how many people are on a boat alone.
In small living quarters.
Navigating the ocean.
Checking my compass.
Anchoring my vessel.
I wear tattered clothes.
I don’t like jewelry, or fancy restaurants.
I don’t like the feeling of land or even thinking of it…
I don’t like my family, or friends.
Just my boat.
And the threat of shipwreck.
Which I’ve locked away.
For a consecutive 6 weeks,
You helped a project of "putting the lipsticks on the pig".
Has the fence not damaged by the strangers,
We would not have worked together.
You helped keeping me safe from outsiders,
Prevent people invading into my living quarters,
But, you had stolen the key to my heart's locker,
Made me seeing the fence as a reminder.
Let it bleed inside my mind,
It hurt all days and nights,
Despite I have tried,
The pain and heartache have not ended.
Remember those dots I used,
They were exactly how I felt at the time,
But did not know you well enough to share my inner feelings,
Should never have those feelings in the first place.
It was never your false,
You did not encourage nor give me any wrong messages.
It was me who was so vulnerable,
Growed an affection and invested emotion feelings on you.
I never blamed you terminated our friendship,
If there was any of it.
However. I loathed you for disrespecting me and discriminating me being part of dirty system.
Today we took a lovely walk
On quiet country roads,
Where the autumn trees surround
The rural one of our abodes.
A hundred miles later,
We strode briskly, I should note,
From our main home, an apartment,
To the place where we could vote.
Now, to cast an early ballot,
We were luckily assigned
To a great New York museum,
So, of course, we then combined
An important civic duty
With a visit worth a view
Of a very cool exhibit,
Which we always love to do.
Our two living quarters equal,
Since they’re small, an average house,
Yet this singular arrangement
Works for me and for my spouse.
When the two halves come together,
In the ways I love the best,
I feel happy and contented,
Which, by now, you might have guessed.
Today I cleaned for hours
Getting rid of mostly dust.
If I did this more often,
I’d feel less worn out, I trust.
Yet unlike many others,
Who have homes that sparkly shine,
No one would ever use that phrase
About this place of mine.
My husband vacuums every day
And I scrub when I must,
But I don’t have the patience
To move tchotchkes* just to dust.
We all decide how much we care
About how clean or neat
Our living quarters need to be
To make us feel complete.
*a Yiddish word meaning decorative objects
Lazy streams without a murmur
Flow silently stepping over rocks and pebbles
Carrying with them fish that merrily glide
Along muddy, shallow carved credentials
Of forest land.
Running waters meet a flourishing river
Where bigger fish enjoy the rush of waters
In wait for its smaller breed that happily saunter
Hoping for a wider space and living quarters
Amidst the reefs.
Rivers that carry ships from their dock
Into the seas and oceans wide and deep
Find the monstrous shark and preying fish
Feeding on weaker fins that amidst rushes sleep
Unsuspectingly!
James Bond
quintessential gentleman
ultra cool, calm, collected, candid spy
he does things others can never hope to do
his living quarters are classy and glassy
all women want him
In my lifetime,
I have observed and
witnessed some evil things.
Many were news reports, but
some were eye-witness melees.
One notable travesty was the
implementation of 'A Clearing'.
It was called ethnic cleansing,
but there was absolutely nothing
cleansing about slaughterous murder.
Like so much garbage, being cleared
from our living quarters; one people
claiming to be purer than another.
How despicable of us mortals created
in the image of an awesome and loving God
who through His son said, "There is none good;
no, not one". Clear the air we breathe of poisonous
toxins if you will. Clear the rivers and waterways
of debris and waste. But be very clear about this:
There are multitudes of undesirable things and myriads
of non-mortal despicables in need of mass clearings.
But the clearing out of people by any means deemed
less than another is not one of them. Ethnic cleansing
is mass suicide. Let us love, cherish, and care for one
another and leave human clearings and cleansings to God.
021023PSCtest, 'The Clearing'. Craig Cornish
They looked to their tomorrow's
With full insight of their current
disposition.
They spoke of their limitations
And examined their need
Insight of things and those who'd
make enemy of there plans.
When the time for goal setting
and money they knew fugality
Would allow accordance.
Those who knew how people
Looked to bring you to the edge of
push you over.
Without entertaining thoughts
or using words to speak kindly
of assocation they knew if they
we're to fail all in opposition to
What they wanted to do would
In full examination of their age
and ability they looked to tomorrow
and only saw there individual
success to be in as one.
Working together to take care of
One another.
One hundred aging people who knew
If they weren't gonna handle there
retirement no one else would care
enough to help.
They built living quarters in steelframed
Buildings. Had a fully stocked store
Had an auditurium
Bought a bus
Made clothes and grew
Vegetables.
When they saw diversity
they sought success
and made way for
To include folk who wished
To be successful.
They made a frugal place
A worthy considerate!
They looked to their tomorrow's
With full insight of their current
disposition.
They spoke of their limitations
And examined their need
Insight of things and those who'd
make enemy of there plans.
When the time for goal setting
and money they knew fugality
Would allow accordance.
Those who knew how people
Looked to bring you to the edge of
push you over.
Without entertaining thoughts
or using words to speak kindly
of assocation they knew if they
we're to fail all in opposition to
What they wanted to do would
In full examination of their age
and ability they looked to tomorrow
and only saw there individual
success to be in as one.
Working together to take care of
One another.
One hundred aging people who knew
If they weren't gonna handle there
retirement no one else would care
enough to help.
They built living quarters in steelframed
Buildings. Had a fully stocked store
Had an auditurium
Bought a bus
Made clothes and grew
Vegetables.
When they saw diversity
they sought success
and made way for
To include folk who wished
To be successful.
They made a frugal place
A worthy considerate!
Her child was in need
So she gave him all she had
It was not enough....
He would have to borrow from DAD
A lecture of failure
Seemed but a little to endure
For having the need met
And living quarters ensured
Her gift gift lie dormant
Eating at his soul
Her sacrificial living
Fell short of his goal
It costs him nothing
To pay the bill on credit
He requires repayment
And is happy to badger until he gets it
Her relationship altered forever
While nothing is changed with DAD
Both continue in the belief
Living like this isn't all that bad
The binder that carries us to ABBA
Is the sacrifice we can't engage
What should be reverential gratitude
Is transformed into a powerless rage
........................I must be free.............
Then choose
Be blessed, and go your way
The sacrifice remains
In every purchase....with, and without faith
Written by Trudy Schrader on 01-01-2021
I take my hat off for the flag
I stand up straight; let others sag
I get all weepy for Old Glory
thinking of my family's story
They came from Russia with naught but hope
with just their wits to help them cope
No language skills or education either
Money or living quarters, they had neither
But they scraped and scrimped, and just kept going
Gramps peddled junk, grams did the sewing
And with the help of God, it all worked out
Hard work and faith -- their kids did sprout
My father an attorney, my uncle a physician
All due to gram and gramps' prescient intuition
To emigrate alone, part of no community
to an unknown land of opportunity
My normal route diverted,
I walked north instead of south
And passed a man who looked like he
Existed hand to mouth.
He’d made a small encampment
Underneath a walking bridge,
Though of course he lacked a bathroom
Or a closet or a fridge.
But I had to give him credit
For I couldn’t help but look
As he knelt before a bookshelf
Picking out the perfect book.
There were maybe twenty volumes,
Neatly standing side by side,
Clearly adding to the ambiance
Of where he does reside.
We can make our living quarters
Cozy, if we are in luck,
But to do so when you’re homeless
Takes a little bit of pluck.
Each step into the wilderness presents intriguing thoughts
of how nature became our theatre
each step is a discovery in itself of unsettled land
which sits in the wilderness of unexplored territory
but is filled with animals that do not know their boundaries.
and don’t encounter searching footprints.
Deeper into the woods, nature is strung from the gate
where trees and streams are a path into an unexplored world.
There are no avenues to follow into the deepest territories
of the vast living quarters of inhabitants under natures dome.
We don’t need your money
But can you afford the time
Because some of us are homeless
Some of us need a sign
We don’t need your attention
But can you send some doctors
Were desperate for medical supplies
We need some caring watchers
We don’t want your money
But can you send some food
Most of us are starving here
And the living quarters crude
Most of us are scattered
Some dying in the streets
The drought has been so bad
Along with this blistering heat
Can you spare nickel
What about a pound
I usually don’t ask for money
But today my head hangs down
© Copyright KC.Leake
15th December 2014
All Rights Reserved
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.