Long Domesticity Poems
Long Domesticity Poems. Below are the most popular long Domesticity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Domesticity poems by poem length and keyword.
History, it has always seemed,
at least it always has to me,
Is not something to be forgotten,
For from it much is gleaned.
It strikes me as more sensible,
if I may be allowed to say,
that's history is not a dusty book,
it's an all-you-can-think buffet!
From the ancients of the Levant
Ten Commandments do I take.
From the doughty Middles Ages:
Chivalry, a fine impression makes.
From the minutemen on Bunker Hills
comes a true love of liberty.
From the trappers in high Rockies
A sense of true independency.
The cowboy age it gives me
an appreciation of the grit,
along with a strong desire
Not to take any lip.
The roaring twenties gives me
the thrill of living it up.
The thirties taste strongly of thrift,
Of how to suffer through the rough.
Of the forties came a craving
for punching evil in the jaw.
From the fifties: Domesticity,
it's great rewards I saw.
From the sixties I take little,
except maybe rock and roll.
Though I admit as I grow older
Its seems tasteless and cold.
The seventies and best not eaten,
On that most will agree.
But the eighties' flavor is the power
of man's ingenuity set free.
From the millennium I consumed the fact
that Islamism is not that great.
And the present taste teaches clearly
not to trust those who cry "Hate!"
And this is just the beginning,
so many ideas out there lay...
A bit from here, a bit from there
A plate built of every age.
You leave behind the gristle,
though it make take some time,
but eventually you plate is choice,
and free of fat and rings.
And why some folks flee from it,
I cannot begin to say.
All I know is that once you start
you will always crave the taste.
Growing up on God's impoverishing family farm,
he learned to hide his work
in tissues of unearthly privacy.
Regenerating in Earth's richly resonant nutrition,
she recovered her playful avocations
in ecosystemic response
to global over-grasping issues
of under-conscious
her/his-storied
positive domesticity
Over-privatized
so powers under-privileged;
personalized
so shy of compelling
retelling publicity
Earth camouflaged
democratically healthy ecopolitics,
co-empowering
co-operating
co-generating
co-laterally co-investing
co-systemic
ego/eco-analogical
co-passion.
Growing out on Earth's extending family farm,
he learned to share his playful work
with issues of unEarthly
inhumane
left-hemispheric primacy.
Little cat,
how sleek and glossy is your pelt
like a lithe Cheetah you stalk my ankles,
always ready to leap upon them,
a shared domesticity has made them
your natural prey.
Soon I will fill your bowl
with the meat of a great animal,
that in the wild
would certainly trample your lithe body
into the hard earth.
After you have fed and licked your chops
I will run my fingers through your tail,
we shall purr together,
watching a TV documentary,
a show about lions in the Serengeti -
hunting fleeing cheetahs.
Then off to bed.
In the morning,
you can pounce on my back
as if I were a sleeping lion.
Once soul mates,
the world was their oyster;
together, they built paradise
teeming with life.
Their life was the stuff of dreams.
They were a happy twosome
who couldn't look more compatible.
They savored cozy domesticity.
Their enviable love grew
strong and tall with time.
They planned to dream for eternity
A bright star that hung in their sky
had their names written on it
How drastic the reversal of fortune.
Somehow, they lost that spark they once had.
Their happiness eroded.
Like a lucky gambler
who goes from rolling sevens
to suddenly blowing most of his winnings,
they lost the beautiful dream they created.
Fate couldn't be more unkind.
The flowers in their garden wilted.
Their tasty slice of heaven now tastes bitter.
The star that shone so bright.
above them couldn't be more distant now.
They let paradise slip through their fingers.
Their romance which used to flow
like a gentle stream has iced over.
Now they've found themselves
where the sun doesn't shine.
Submitted for...
Goldilocks Zone Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Date written: 03/30/2021
She came to me
at five
at war inside
between Plan A
RightEgo Dominant
against Plan B
LeftEcoPolitical Wrong.
I came to her
to ask outside
for LeftYang NatureRights,
cooperatively supported,
ignoring RightYin SpiritWrongs
you see
(and hear and smell)
as NegativEnergy.
Our therapy
with GoldenRules
our Left Secular Identity
and Right sacredality,
sacred Princess secularity.
With outdoor solidarity voices
I learned to hear
then see
then sing
her view of tough
WinLose epic choices.
We ask her to let go
of all she hopes to NubianPrincess be
and all we offer in exchange
is how to lose less
Ugly StepSister Sorority
waiting for further
aging mediocrity
through growing domesticity
by matriarchal Yin repression,
RightBrain sacred oppression.
Now she dances
while we together sing,
calling back to birds
and squirrels
and bees
and crickets
in trees
gardening and pretending to Princess fly
and grace-filled walk
showing sharing esteemed chances
for WinWin princess prances
yet to be
with
or without
me.
She still prefers WinWin
Left deep learning
with sacred Right feeling
as do we all,
as do we all
invited to Prince Charming's ball.
I came to her
at war inside
between Left fading dominance
and Right feeling prominence
longing for resilient
belonging outdoor resonance.
The coziness of domesticity
A shoulder to press a cheek to
Someone to come home to
after shedding a quart of sweat
slaving away at work.
A precious quality time to kill
with near and dear ones
that love me, and still will,
at my worst
Putting away the cell phone,
folding shut the laptop computer
in the gloaming in favor of
a much-needed human connection
Making time for a quiet reflection
and prolonged cogitation,
a conversation with God, for rest
and relaxation, for creativity
Someone with whom to share a laugh
Someone to walk with, arm in arm,
step by step among the fields of gold
despite all the madness in the world.
A skin to touch, a hand to hold when
Autumn leaves begin to fall.
Being emotionally available to people
I love and care about.
Most importantly, loving
and being loved in return.
What Matters Most To Me Poetry Contest (Winner: 3rd Place)
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Date written: 04/01/2020
the splendor of an essence, delicate yet
firm is called
woman…
awed by her mystery through years,
thirst of rivers and shorelines never knew
her meaning,
her perfume and poison
mixed with elixir cloaked in legends
which trace her tears, taste all maiden songs
and still cannot touch her, own her
absence, presence--
many men crush this feminine generosity,
trampled, demeaned like a wilting flower
but she is an eternal prayer, rising from
violence and domesticity-
this is woman…
bequeath your shrines primitive or medieval
you are timeless,
give those who have one bare minute
a last glance of your soul’s courage
above, under and beyond
Mary's firm panels of heaven,
for despite any human cruelty, she prevails.
The Dreamless
Now that he had freed himself of the past looking forward
to think thoughts not hampered by dreams of childhood and
the embarrassment of teenage years and sexual clumsiness
falling in love with the most unsuitable and undesirable person possible because she made hot waffles with blueberry jam and sometime strawberry; he still thinks of his horror when his mother thought that woman was a suitable bride for
him mainly because she was stupid and malleable.
It was that beginning that in the end made him break with his past and declare families and danger for civilization, a dagger
in the heart of the future, that must be free of sentimentality.
He liked to sit in bars drinking gin&tonic and watching people before walking to his nearby hotel. Yes, he lived at a hotel because it saved him of the domesticity of paying bills
and fretting about the price of potatoes.
He thought of the German/American writer who said he liked his own company, if that was true how did he know, being drunk most of the time, Not like him who enjoyed his leisure
while waiting to write an earth shattering Novel.
Not to forget the sainted EH, who wrote like a simpleton and
won a Nobel Prize. His contempt for him was endless.
Walking to his hotel in the old part of the town, a boisterous
pig on a balcony fell off and nearly hit him.
The owners of the pig, seeing the animal was mortally wounded, quickly killed the pig by slitting its throat, before it died proper, this to avoid eating a self-dead animal.
This was a shock if the pig had fallen on him he might have ended up in hospital, worse, not being able to walk again
Since he had disowned his family, he had to change his plans.
He would marry an old tart, that had lost her attraction, rent her a flat, give her money for nice dresses, visit her once a week and tell neighbors he was a traveling businessman.
When down with the flu, she could take care of him as it was in her best interest to keep him alive.
Happy now that his future was sorted out, he went to bed and
slept, a night void of dreams.
In the thick of January
The world is a cold, cold place
Insufferable, yet I'm not suffering
Winter's wrath
I'm home
Blissfully cocooned
In such a cozy domesticity!
I couldn't care less
About the looming winter storm
Or whether it's already snowing
I'm sheltered from the cold wind
It's warm and comfortable
By the fireside
There's no place I'd rather be!
Date written and posted: 01/19/2019
How invigorating...
to be finally free after much
hustle and bustle of daily life!
As the world gets busy
disintegrating bit by bit,
you're someplace else;
far removed from it all;
away from all the stress,
the agitations, the disturbances;
in total harmony
with yourself, with nature;
you get to have a conversation with God.
You get to cherish time
and revisit an inferno
of long-forgotten memories,
Oh, to temporarily retire
to a quiet domesticity
with plenty of time...
to sleep, to relax, to attain
a much-needed peace of mind, to reflect
on what's truly important in life,
what a magnificent rarity!
If you have time to burn
by all means, get away from it all....
Date written: 02/14/2021