Long Habitat Poems
Long Habitat Poems. Below are the most popular long Habitat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Habitat poems by poem length and keyword.
Wasted Energy
Darkness descends like a ribbon unfurling
As astronauts in space orbit the churning Earth
And observe the lit orb that is the world below.
Likened to a planet on fire in sulphurous yellow,
Though impressive to see, it is a waste of energy
To watch as photons flow at the flick of a switch
In the night when people should be sleeping.
Light pollution! Conservation is sorely lacking.
(The First Law of Thermodynamics states that energy is constant;
it is neither created nor destroyed but can be converted.)
Dams constructed flood lands to create reservoirs;
Waterfalls are shut down, and rivers diverted,
Destroying land use and animal habitat.
Fossil fuel stations and nuclear reactors are built,
Which pollute the air and swell waste dump sites
With radioactive and other toxic materials.
Fields are littered with windmills, solar panels, and mirrors
Consuming yield acreage and resources and killing birds
To generate electricity so that humans can live comfortably
In an electronic, surreal, guiltless, controlled environment.
The CoOp featured Women and Families
and their Matriarchal Allies,
often LGB and/or T,
and even some curiously queerer,
but not meaner
in appropriate demeanor
regardless of habitat
and camouflage
and costume,
ready for a folksy ball,
come as you neighborhood are
at Three Sisters CoOp.
The Corn Sisters
first brought their good news gospel,
Christian straight through bisexual,
standing Yangish tall.
To conjoin the Bean Brothers and Sisters,
enslaved in wombs a bit too much longer
than their corny deep green sisters,
yet rich brown and red
and forest green ready
to sprout and reforest spiral,
devouring,
yet digesting appropriately just right,
what Corn could carry and bear,
before producing their Bean creolizing
jazzy song and dance performers;
sultry street reformers
resting on a corny stalk of Yang.
Pumpkin spreading shade Earth Allies
grow across the CoOp's neighborhood,
incorporating spiritual
and natural nutritions
to feed a hungry matriarchal-patriarchal world,
rich with integrative nutritional potential,
deep with CoOp integrity
to reweave,
reforest,
Three Sister CoOps,
wherever humanity blooms,
not bleeds so much,
as and where planted,
in and out,
up and down,
back and forth
TaoTime reweaving.
A Great Transitional bean-brother
and sister
stood to take the lunch microphone
first opened up this day
to say:
If you look at a flat picture of a three-sprout braid,
it looks like oppositional Yang and Yin
are bilaterally weaving in and out
in Hypostatic Union
universally alone.
Yet that same three-dimensional braid
when felt and looked at
from at least all three-sides,
unveils a secret wu-wei Trinity
of TaoTime,
a braid for Sacred Corn
as FatherSun,
a braid for Natural Beans
as Holonic Cooperative Flowing-Spiral Spirit,
a braid for MotherEarth
Squashed Down Folks and Species
spreading lovely shade and reforesting projects
and cooperative programs,
economically and politically discouraging competing weeds
while splattering growing psychologically complex rain
where it best absorbent falls.
But, which nutritional strand is which
depends on you,
the ecopolitical view you listen to most Yang-Yin deeply,
as written in sweetgrass braids
of each Three Sisters CoOp.
This passion to live
and love
fully
would grow with maturation,
not dissipate with age.
Such passion,
investment,
solidarity with Earth
and all Her beautiful,
yet suffering, Tribes
cannot remain mutually sustained
if I need to control each relationship's closure,
completion,
transition from prioritized work
to begin play again each renewing spring.
Concerns and distractions
about unpredictable seasons of severance
and rebirth
belong to self-aggrandizing outcomes
more than longing for self and other-healing process
through mutually compassionate commitments,
investments,
solidarity of sharing transparently unfinishable business.
Sharing the speaking and planning baton,
the on-stage executive floor,
with co-mentoring peers
and my next generations,
as past generations,
has led to this and each regenerative project,
deeply engaged each day,
pre-saged each night
Shaping and reshaping how I feel
apart and together,
nearly finished and yet just about re-beginning,
untheistic ego-sacred embrace
re-membering now,
yet not quite Paradise here.
Life is multi-generationally imcomplete
as love is death's ego-sacrificial completion.
Attachment,
passion for knowing/feeling Us
interdependent,
is detachment,
compassion for Ego's physical mortality,
leaving generous room
for investing in unfinished journeys,
inhabited loves,
habitual truths,
habitat trusts,
habits of play,
relationships,
vocations,
cooperatively healing busyness.
He's of a bright yellow and auburn color,
and Autumn leaves match his feathers well;
what a gorgeous canary stands on my window-sill...
and I call him the friendliest, most talented warbler!
Next door, there are heartless and crazy boys who harm birds
by using slings and stones to bring them down,
and then watch them die by inflicting more pain;
that's so cruel, don't ever do it to another canary, rascals!
Kids, don't kill my bird...he's a useful animal
with the biggest heart in the Fauna's kingdom,
if he ever died, I would be confined to dreary boredom!
Let him live, so that I can continue living through the Fall!
He comes to visit me hardly flipping his wings so fragile,
and he surprises me sometimes, while I play at the piano so carried away
by the notes that himself sings for me in a triad chord so simple;
would you want to hear him sing that melody...are you listening to me?
Birds are put in cages, if they were wild animals like lions and tigers,
but they are the beautiful and gentle creatures of the Wild and they run from hunters,
not from bird-watchers...and you say,"They aren't intelligent or wise!"
Watch them in their habitat: you'll learn to adore them, and love them for life!
Kids, don't kill my bird...he has caring parents like those in a loving family,
I rescued him from a forest's trap...his legs were caught and they bled;
I took him home and gave him first aid, and he miraculously survived!
Did God send this bird to me...to test me how compassionate I would be?
Yang+Yin optimal health economics
fueling wealthy cooperative politics
Leads to less survivalist
Yang v Yin
Also,
Yang x Yin
multiplies SunLight x EarthPower
cooperative empowerment
fuels enlightening reiterations,
integrations,
creolizations
As Yang/Yin divides
separates
disintegrates otherwise win/win
healthy systems.
So, just a quick restorative justice question--
Let's imagine a homeless adolescent (Yang)
and an angry and resentful parent (Yin)
left behind
at what used to pass
as their peaceful white picket-fenced
house
home
habitat.
Do we assume the defiant
rebellious
often self-vindicating
PTSD and ADHD,
homeless adolescent
is typically at fault?
maybe?
Or
do we blame
and shame
the still housed adult
working one
or two
or three jobs?
Why not both
and why not avoid condemning
either Yang or Yin
Perhaps complicated
with trauma intergenerational histories
as old as slavery
and warrior rape
and tribal sacrifices
of adolescent trust
and beauty
and soul emptying absence
of win/win integrity,
secular intent,
sacred hope.
It started out so peaceful
It was God's Sabbath's rest
No work to be done in it
Just to keep it Holy, blessed.
But someone picked forbidden fruit
And ate of it; a mortal sin
Much to their shame and all good things
The day was cursed and all therein.
Eternally to dwell in dark
Locked in time and out of reach
A hell from which none could escape
A abyss, no ladder's length could breach.
Light fled that frozen habitat
Where the hopeless dwell and chaos rule
Where the pitch of darkness grew so black
A pit no pendulum could move.
So time refused to hear their cry
For a new day to come and vanquish this
And many sought a way to die
Death turned it's back to their request.
Oh, who is able to please Great God
And pay the ransom it would cost
No one was found, not one availed
It seemed to all that all was lost.
Yet a sacrifice was offered up
So pleasing in it's selflessness
The cause of which was wonderful
And able, yes, to stand the test.
And God did quickened certain ones
On whom the wicked could do no work
It was a glorious trump of God
When Jesus Christ came down to earth.
Now we can walk a better path
And hope one day to gain all truth;
The paradise we lost back then
Retract the hell that sin let loose.
RETA PRUITT
August 21, 2016
Malignant and Magnificent Other,
I must admit in this moment sway of peace and waves of grandeur,
That I misjudged you,
I mistook your malice as a defect in your character,
When in essence it was circumstantial,
For we all victims of this confused uncertainty,
And as I see you in your habitat,
Mighty and Calm,
Peaceful and Gentle,
I am tempted to revenge,
For I ask, “Why would she be so kind to others and forsake a kindness to one
such as myself?”
For I ask, “How can he show such empathy, when toward me all he showed was
judgment,”
But as I see you in your habitat,
I realize that you never really knew me,
I realize that you never really saw me,
All you saw was the caricature that a perverse and fallen generation had taught
you,
All you saw was the myopic vision of a backdrop which knows only of black and
white, Only of friend of foe,
Only of villain and hero,
And now though tentatively,
I outstretch my hand for your embrace of fellowship,
And if you reject it, I will feel no sorrow,
For I realize that it is your eyesight that fails you, and how can I be angry when my
eyes see clearly?
How can I hate you for a hatred that does not afflict me and in truth only blinds
you to a joy immeasurable,
For if you could see me in my habitat,
Surrounded by this sound of beauty and a wife and daughter that adore me,
Then you would know of my sound,
And from that euphony of reckoning, you would embrace my soul.
Orange was Olivetta’s favorite summertime holiday fruit
The smell of this sweet morsel delighted this fairy
She also adored marigolds’ spotted colors of orange to their root
All the oranges In the orchard made her life brilliantly airy
So when she received a new fairy habitat, she knew what to do
She brought in pinks, yellows, polka dot, plaids, florals and blue.
But the main color was orange in full large paint strokes of course.
She designed an orange bathtub and a giant fluffy stuffed orange horse.
She was flabbergasted to find a male fairy one fine Tuesday.
With carrot-colored hair of all things, so she swiftly sashayed
She tucked him in her home, where she was keeping him to play
He quickly turned into a beautiful monarch and flew swiftly away
Wild at heart
By Michelle Morris
05/04/2023
I am wild at heart
I am wild and free
I want to be like the creatures
Out in the world I see
They are so precious
They are a visual delight
They're cute and cuddly
They live and they fight
Their survival is waning
As humanhood expands
We take over their habitat
Ignore environmental concerns
They deserve a life
That is precious and free
Where they can be wild
Without fearing extinction
I am wild at heart
I am wild and free
I want to live in a world
Where wild creatures all can be
© Michelle Morris, 2023
Thank you @wwf for sharing this photo* by Thomas A. Jefferson. The vaquita is critically endangered. There are only 10 remaining.
worldwildlife.org/species/vaquita
"Vaquita, the world's rarest marine mammal, is on the edge of extinction. The plight of cetaceans—whales, dolphins, and porpoises—as a whole is exemplified by the rapid decline of the vaquita in Mexico, with about 10 individuals remaining."
* Photo on social media and online.
Three young spheres glided awkwardly along the river: two were as bright as the sun and one was dim like a chasm. The dim sphere could not glide on its own but would fall to the river below and drown if not held up by the two spheres of light.
Wise Old Sphere of Light watched and observed the three young spheres gliding along the river. He observed how the two spheres of light struggled to keep the dark sphere above the water. He followed them at a distance for the rest of the day.
When the three young spheres returned to their habitat, their parents greeted them with a burst of light and fed them hydrogen gases for dinner, except for the dim sphere, that could not eat hydrogen gases. Outside, Wise Old Sphere of Light observed the parent’s dilemma and knew unless he did something soon, the dim little sphere would destroy the entire village.
When the knock at the door came, the Sphere family was startled because they had never had visitors before. Father Sphere of Light answered and found Wise Old Sphere of Light hovering there. When asked why he had come, the wise ball of fire explained that he had been observing some very unnatural behavior with the Sphere family. Father Sphere of Light was offended by the accusation, and curious as to the commotion, Mother Sphere of Light came to the door.
Wise Old Sphere of Light explained that the little dim sphere did not belong, and should be taken to live among its own kind. Mother Sphere of Light demanded an apology for the offensive statement, but Wise Old Sphere of Light refused and said that the little dim sphere was going to destroy their family and the entire village.
Father and Mother Sphere of Light ignored the warnings and asked Wise Old Sphere to leave and never return.
Little Dim Sphere of Light swallowed his family and the entire village.