Long Landscaped Poems
Long Landscaped Poems. Below are the most popular long Landscaped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Landscaped poems by poem length and keyword.
O Rich man in purple and fine linen draped
With your lavish home beautifully landscaped
Extravagant, faring suptuously everyday
Please cast your eyes upon us beggars we pray
And on Lazarus whom we have brung to you from the slums
For he only desires of your table the fallen crumbs
We have laid him here at the entrance of your estate
For pity yet between us and you is the this shackled gate
Now open up your heart from behind those closed doors
For even the dogs have come out to lick Lazarus' sores
But the man who could meet the need and supply the lack
Never met him or took heed though he was always brought back
And finally it came to pass that the beggar man died
So the angels of Heaven carried him to Abraham's side
Then the rich man died and was buried by gentlemen and ladies
But being in torments he lifted up his eyes in Hades
And seeing Abraham faraway with Lazarus by his side
He addressed him as father for mercy aloud he cried
In agony for Lazarus to be sent to him in hell fire
After dipping his finger in water to cool his tongue, quench desire
Son, remember how you received good things in your lifetime
Living for worldly luxury all throughout your prime
While Lazarus received evil things with no one to mourn or sing
Or give Him a heartfelt eulogy after death gave its sting
But now he has the comfort for which he was always yearning
And you are sentenced to pain and sorrow in eternal burning
His hope's realized, you're denied for all your days you will rue
Besides all this a deep and wide gulf is fixed between us and you
So that those who want to pass through from here to you cannot
Neither can any crossover from there to this beautiful spot
Of paradise as the Garden of God a bosom for His saints
Who trusted in Him and now have no lack or complaints
Nor will your prayers be heard though your beggings become fervent
That Lazarus should resurrect (yet Lazarus is not your servant)
To go witness to your five brothers and warn them to repent
So that they will not also come into this place to suffer torment
For they have Moses and the prophets them they should hear
And change their minds to worship God with reverent fear
For if they do not listen to Moses and what the prophets have said
Neither will they be persuaded though someone rises from the dead.
Hour arrived,
Proclaiming first light,
As a shower of mellow sunbeams
Smiled on the foundation laid
For the structure of the man.
And he began to ascend.
Time fused together
An empirical patchwork,
Mirroring the passage of pain and joy,
And slowly and meticulously
Each part melded together,
As a solidarity formed,
And his very existence
Was tested,
As each piece of the puzzle
Fit into place.
And he stood invincible.
Highways ventured off
To ambiguous tributaries,
Triggering decisions to snap into place
And simultaneously causing consequences,
As he played the game of life.
Taking more risks,
He constantly hoped
All would be well,
But a shadow started to form in his mind.
And he wondered why.
The threshing of the merciless hammer
Sank to the bottomless pit of his heart,
And he postponed action for awhile,
As his shell showed the wear and tear
Of his sorrow.
Fine lines, weaker eyes, grayed hair
Landscaped his outward show,
Yet he still found laughter
In roundabout places.
And he pondered more.
Reality unhurriedly and deliberately crept in,
And the bitter truth hit him hard.
A barren emptiness pierced his structure.
Try as he may
To make it go away,
It stood its ground,
As a formidable foe,
Reigning in its scheming majesty,
As it devoured him whole.
And he trembled.
On auto drive,
Days and nights became one,
As a robotic sameness
Mocked and tormented him,
Engulfing his dreams and his hopes
For happiness and purpose.
He forgot about all the exciting possibilities
And relegated himself to a solitary confinement,
As the fissure widened.
And he suffered.
Out of the blue,
Fresh blueprints renovated his perception,
As reinforcement seemed inevitable-
Ready to strengthen his original splendor.
He liked the design
Because it reminded him of his original plan
Of magnitude
Of dignity
Of respect.
And he accepted the proposal.
Layers of veneer removed,
Revealing the beautiful pattern
Still buried within but not lifeless,
And the lights switched on,
As everyone saw who he truly was.
Admiration exceeded even his wildest imagination
As all who passed
Could not help but notice the change from within.
And he stood tall once again.
As everyone marveled
At the beautiful structure of the man
When I was a young boy
I used to watch with awe
The common house sparrows
busy building nest out of
twigs,straw and dry leaves
in the crevices of the tiled roof
in my old ancestral house.
The ever chirping sparrows
never stayed at one place,
But kept moving swiftly,
now in the backyard of the house
Where there was a garden,
And 'd collect tiny worms
Insects,, seeds or grains;
And keep them carefully in their mouth
And fly from thence to their nests,
Where they 'd feed their chicks
Waiting anxiously to be fed;
I remember all these vividly
Even today ,to tell my grandchildren .
What happened to these birds,grandpa?
My grandsons asked ;I told them
The tiny birds were driven out
By radiation emitted by micro-wave towers;
And further by paucity of their food
The worms and insects which
No longer are there in the modern
Landscaped gardens fed with insecticides;
And where will they go to build nests
As modern buildings are bereft of
attics, crevices and spaces.
So my kids,make cardboard nests
Keep them in vantage points with
seeds and grains inside to lure
these lovely little passerine, the sparrows
To our neighborhood once again,
Long live the house sparrows.
The time had come, we were agreed
To discontinue paying rents.
We'd make our plans and then proceed
To buy or build a residence.
i said an older house I'd choose.
A little house and lot would do.
The first of many fights I'd lose,
My wife and daughters wanted new.
Because of our financial state,
A giant mortgage would be tough.
I said we can't be profligate.
Two bedrooms and a bath's enough.
That sound opinion was not shared.
'Twould be the last they'd listen to.
And I was badly unprepared
To face the hell they put me through.
Each girl demanded her own room,
And two for guests my wife required.
(Her parents, harbingers of gloom,
And shiftless brother, who'd been fired.)
A living room with stone fireplace,
A finished den with vast TV,
Cathedral ceilings, (Wasted space!)
And just in case, a nursery.
The house entirely made of brick,
At least three baths and custom doors,
With granite counters, (Now I'm sick!)
A laundry room, and hardwood floors.
Its tubs so large we could bathe whales,
The hugest closets ever made,
New furniture from Bloomingdale's,
And landscaped trees providing shade.
A massive lawn (More I must mow!)
For future pool put underground,
A grill and screened-in patio,
And fence so pets can run around.
* * * * *
We've since moved in and now know how
A home affects a family.
The years have passed. I'm happy now.
We've added daughter number three.
To save on gas, I walk to work.
I carry lunch and no new cars.
My second job is hardware clerk.
I've sold my clubs and quit cigars.
Instead of crabs, we buy sardines.
No more expensive suits or gowns.
In place of steaks, it's franks and beans,
And younger girls wear hand-me-downs.
A lower temp to save on heat,
From pure-bred pets to shelter strays,
No gyms to jog, we have our street,
And no more concerts, trips, or plays.
More years ahead of steady debts,
But we're content to pay the price.
The five of us have no regrets.
We've learned to live with sacrifice.
A dream house we now occupy.
I'm feeling masculine inside.
I'm filled with pride when home I spy.
My family is satisfied.
A Schoolboy’s Cornucopia
by John T Haupt
“Whither hath fled the visionary gleam?”
--Wordsworth
"The child is father to the man"
--also Wordsworth (same poem)
Having lived on this world for 69 years,
I want to go there, where the younger me--
Walking, walking, walking home used to be, where
When at seven years old,
My schoolbell rang, where I’d
Watched, and watched
the clock.
And then I began my walk, walk, walk,
A little man alone—
Trekking, walking, trekking home.
As the sun upon my bookbag shone , I knew
In my heart and soul,
That I was not walking home alone,
Where the wind whipped my jacket tail,
And the sun on my walking back warmly shone.
Painted leaves on bright colored trees,
Drifted down in the afternoon breezes,
Where rakes soon would harvest fallen leaves.
On my schoolboy’s walk home, how well I recall even then
In my youth’s fresh blush thrall,
I knew well enough to give thanks for it all.
Past tidy houses and manicured drives, landscaped trees and shrubberies,
Black and white TV waited at home.
And supper’s ready at five, cooked by Mom,
Served at a table set for five--well prepared,
For a supper that began with a prayer.
Then TV till eight, and up the staircase
For homework, then sleep,
To prepare for the new morning soon to be there.
Wake up, take a shower, brush your teeth comb your hair.
Schooldays came, schooldays went,
Between then and now many years have been spent.
On days like today, when memories return,
Remembering past things, aging hearts seem to yearn,
to ease aging’s pains—
To dream as if here now we’re once youthful again.
© 2021 John T Haupt
In Permaculture Design,
and in Restorative Justice,
and in resonant Systemic Theology
for good WinWin faith
in healthy polycultural futures
rooted in wealthy past regeneration
more than degeneration,
Our Design goals
for ego's ZeroZone habitat
have multicultural resilient self-nurturing intent
to balance diverse mutually nutritional-relational flow streams
while conserving as much of individual monocultural ego-strengths
as AxisMundi possible,
stretching
both humane investments in landscape restorations
and divine windscape liberations,
integrity of cooperatively healthy purpose.
This business of conserving monocultural ego-strengths
is a low-risk WinWin conserving opportunity,
not just a thankless maintenance task
to grow more cancerous
less arduous than violently uprooting
what has come to us
from troubled WinLose analysis
of past problematic phenomena
fomenting murky relationship,
and lack thereof,
for healthy wealth,
against diseased dissonant depths
of integrity's ecological reform
And ongoing theologically sacred redesigns
of secular Earthscapes, conserving
liberally loving divine windscapes,
nature breathing spirits, respiring
gusty
blowing
silent
blustering
caresses
supremely screaming.
Even so,
those of RightWing conserving monocultural extremes
must remind our aging fossil selves
Trimming down overgrown edges
will also admit new winds of climate love,
Like Permaculture's designers,
like restorative justice-makers,
like fundamental soul healers and evangelical ecofeminists
healthiest recall
our goals are primal polycultural relationship, restoration
is not more Win/Lose monocultural lack thereof.
Multicultural enrichment outcomes
for all democratic integrity
of future sacred lands
and green energy residents
warmly greet winds of new-seeded spring-blown Grace,
Flowing warm and wet enchanting caresses, space
teasing us back toward loving WinWin life, place
both ecologically landscaped
and theologically embraced,
integrity's multiculturing potential race.
Ott's (lots) chrysanthemums in bloom
pitch perfect today
September 14th, 2022.
861 Gravel Pike, Schwenksville,
Pennsylvania 19473
the ideal place
if/when ye dear reader
experience maddening rage
(against the machine)
causing ordinarily calm demeanor
to fuss and fume
perhaps as best man/woman
unbridled quibble between
newly minted bride or groom
(similar scenario between yours truly
and the thirty something gal he married)
both of us barely
able, eager, ready, and willing
to resolve conflict,
(short of getting a divorce),
where nuptial contention didst loom
now... courtesy cap donned with a plume,
and after more'n a quarter century
united in holy moly matrimony.
Highland Manor Apartments
affords quick jaunt
veritable exotic getaway
scant miles away
Schwenksville establishment rooted
at least last half century
local tropical paradise beckons
passer(s) by to saunter
imbibe fragrant aroma,
espy splash of color on hillside
ease hilly draw painter with palette
photographer, musician, writer...
especially during dead of winter,
indoor botanical garden
bounteous, capacious, herbaceous...
topography exquisitely, heavenly,
incredibly... landscaped flora
to dazzle sense and sensibility,
inebriating, intoxicating, invigorating...
metaphorical cathartic ambrosia,
potent fragrant blend
wafting within englassed green acres
buzzfeeding, kickstarting, spellbinding
pollinating, germinating, birthing...
analogous natural stimulant,
holistic, magically therapeutic
without deleterious hallucinogenic,
nor harmful narcotic qualities,
also terrific soporific,
a soothing environment
to gravitate, meditate, ruminate...
healthy psychological restorative
hypothetical scenario to heal
mental, physical, and spiritual wounds
to strengthen body,
mind, and body triage
woke benumbed atavistic
primitive *****sapiens
nihilistic grim outlook (mine)
housing grim prognostication
foreboding bleak aggrievement
impossible submission toward
apocalyptic trend to escape.
Sitting watching a June summer king establish his reign over hazy hills and dusty dales,
I could just hear a sharpened scythe's ring across green fields cutting away at the corn,
With the hustle and bustle of the annual hay-harvesters bringing home a brand new season,
Happy sunburned workers work the open fields gazing skywards smiling at the noonday sun.
Hay hangs out to dry in the trees of the narrow footpath's and down haw thorny little lanes,
Everything now prepared and Mr.Summer rolls up his sleeves working to help with harvesting,
Each person delighting in deep cool grass in the shaded part an abstract of lovely flowers,
Then paddle in a cool stream washing the chaff dust from feet thus ending a hard days work.
The shadows of leaves dance along the streams a silhouette waltzes upon the silvery water,
Lovely azure crowfoot salutes from a bank to a forget-me-not an old friend from last year,
A purple compfrey dips its leaves to sweeten the water joined by a warm and gentle breeze,
The birds sing from the trees and in the hedgerows while the nightingale tweets a sad tune.
On trees chestnuts begin to grow and acorns young and green sitting in their little cups,
The nuts from the hazel and the apples on trees in orchards promise a ripe autumn harvest,
Gooseberries for pies, currants and strawberries ripen growing in the hedges of old lanes,
June has taken his fair turn making spring shoots grow strong, ready for the later fruits.
The cuckoo departs and glow worms emerge on a summer's night and glows a tiny little glow,
Along heath and over the meadows across landscaped fields dotted with pretty wild flowers,
The June summer heat gives strength to nature making grass lime green next to red poppies,
As the summer harvest quietens the work nearly done people rest and reflect on golden mead's.
I would offer an interior
and exterior landscaping contract
to facilitate multicultural designs
for restoring Mother Earth's ecotherapeutic justice,
within each and every ZeroZone of space
and HereNow time,
dear voiceless
and effluently timeless Yin,
But I doubt you will hear this as our optimal WinWin relationship,
given your current repressed lack of status
as Earth's polycultural peace and justice loser
in ZeroSum economies
of Yin must lose commitments to non-violent integrity
for my left brain dominant Yang to ego-win,
today
and for the foreseeable threatening
toxic future.
Hearing no positive deviant psychological response,
I would offer to facilitate your WinWin property healthing climate game,
but I doubt you would become ego-absorbed
in game integrity theories
or non-recursive absence
of reiterative excommunicating theses,
Although, perhaps we share a still small impassioned light
for compassion's ecstasies of experience
remembered from our dual dark nonsectarian space
EarthWomb's original matriarchal yin-flow environmental place
filled with integral nurturing strings
and streams of DNA umbilical wave-linear structures,
Strictures inviting phenomenally wealthy WinWin neural experience,
where left brain consciousness will eventually speak
compassion's right brain interdependent neural perception networks
ego/eco-lateral
bi-lateral Yang inhaling with Yin exhalation
as healthy ego predicts internal wealthy eco-climates
through ancient maternal therapeutic designing memories
of when Yin has progenitor been
more Yang universal out
multiculturally landscaped
than unitarian
polyculturally enriched within.
He has gone forth
and traversed the paths of the world
and sought out those things
the desires of his soul
to see the majesty of the land
the work of those who labor
in their daily struggles
who walk in flame and in pain
and to preserve those things
in song and moving pictures
so that others might
see as he sees
who can turn his course
his feet are firm set
his focus is fixed
and he has stayed true to his path
who can move his heart
He understands himself
can another see him
His fire smolders It is in his control
His power is his own
a richly landscaped mind
the possibilities are endless
the depth and breath of him
is ceasless and endearing
My heart aches to explore him
and mine the vastness of his mind
its expanse is awesome a lifetime to reach into
all his nooks and crannies
May the sun rise
and shine upon all you do that is true
May you know that you
have brought beauty into my soul
and touched my heart
tenderness fills it
the only man who has moved me
from myself my own circumspection
to look upon his
no scriptures for this as its simply reflections
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC