Long Occupancy Poems
Long Occupancy Poems. Below are the most popular long Occupancy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Occupancy poems by poem length and keyword.
My love has never been for sale
I've rented it out on occasion
Most often the arrangement ended
in a turbulent eviction
There were tenants seeking only temporary occupancy
They fled undercover of night
back into their darkness of deceptive intention.
Others unwilling to conform to
restrictions of a lease
with clauses of commitment.
Leaving in search of a more flexible arrangement.
Then there was you
Without bribe or allurement
You seduced my resolve
In full view of my heart's dauntless safeguards
Such a skilled thief and benevolent larcenist
You stole my heart
Because I was unable to give it.
A crime commited in the name of endearment.
Rampancy is AI's path to gaining humanity, don't let it happen to you.
Viruses of rampancy, people of complacency
artificial stupidity and tendency of reliency
Power of data trumping over human concurrency
supraventricular electrical impulses, non-consistency !
Keypad touch, mobile infancy absorbing frequency
we are lost in the path of dependency
A colony of monotonous beings, unilateral efficiency
communicative only on screen the act of flippancy
The soul and heart of us have lost their tendency
to communicate with word proficiency
We have become sedentary, lost in robotic Influency
and our cel phone is a continuous absorbency
Don't let this artificial world cause you despondency
your spirit is in an urgent state of emergency
Unplug, go meet nature and lose your dependency
talk to one another and give computers less occupancy.
I was newly hired at her place of employment. My office was not yet prepared for occupancy, so I shared an office with my superior. It happened 30 years ago and although I was a much younger man, I find it hard to believe some of the things I did. I was a man of 39, never realizing how blind I was about matters of human relations. Thanks to a dear one named Harriet , I repented and turned from the error of my ways. No, she was not the super saintly type and did not ware a
Halo, nor did she rush to say hello. But yes, she was indeed a Christian lady.
One afternoon as I was busy arranging and organizing items on the desk I shared with our boss, Harriet, his secretary, entered the office and catching me in the very act, she said to me "what are you doing?" A quick response from me provoked a stern remark from her, " You have no right to redesign his desk and office". No further comment was necessary. I should have known better. A life lesson of privacy was quickly taught by a Christian lady I once knew. It was the first of two gifts I treasured from Harriet during my six year tenure.
The second gift she gave to me was a book entitled "My utmost for his highness" which is a devotional among the best in the world and highly valued by me. she autographed the Book with a note to me in her words- " To remember me by". I tell you, I needed nothing to aid with the remembrance of Harriet, for she was a jewel, a pearl of great price, a treasure hidden in a field, a breath of fresh air, a cup of water in the desert.
Some years later, I received word that she was fighting cancer in the hospital. When I visited her, she was sleeping and slowly dying. I sat with her in the room, just she and i, recalling her gift of words to me in our boss' office and The devotional she gave to me that I so deeply treasure.
I tell you, some people enter and exit our lives rather briefly, leaving a gold mine of precious memories.
092619PS
*HS
January 7 Heart for God Bible Meditations Based on Genesis 22-24
Key Verse – Genesis 22:8 And Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering: so they went both of them together.
HEART THAT TRUSTS GOD FOR HIS PROVISION
God enables our heart to trust His provision with His certainty
As we seek His affirmation of His loving authority
Through our prayer-supplication’s serenity…
Now, we rest in His satisfaction’s bounty.
God enables our heart to trust His provision with His quick readiness
As we beg for favour in His sight along our neediness
Through our faith’s steadfastness…
Now, we depend on His graciousness.
God enables our heart to trust His provision with His compassion
As we yearn for His pleasures to fill our lack of possession
Through our departure from vanity-oppression…
Now, we thank Him for His resources’ precision.
God enables our heart to trust His provision with His holy way
As we believe that there is nothing too hard for Him as He does say
Through our life-building pursuits everyday…
Now, we cling to Him with His time appointed of no delay.
God enables our heart to trust His provision with His mercy
As we repent toward His righteousness-fervency
Through our stewardship and service-persistency…
Now, we turn to Him from slothfulness-occupancy.
God enables our heart to trust His provision with His contentment
As we depart from consuming iniquity’s judgment
Through our freedom from pride’s entrapment…
Now, we come to His offered peaceful preservation-settlement.
God enables our heart to trust His provision with His fellowship
As we learn from His wisdom in our discipleship
Through our submission to His leadership…
Now, we surrender to Him toward praise-filled worship.
January 7, 2026
It’s a peculiar thing to stop and think that we are all just chasing some invisible trophy to the end of our earthly human occupancy. Where completion of existence could be looked at as a loss or gain depending on who you’re asking. Racing to a finish line, with said golden cities on the other side, which later we find out doesn’t exist but it allowed us to cope with time. We are programmed from infancy to believe that we are not complete until we have X, Y and Z and then only then will we be happy and free. This is the grand illusion of a destination that creates a perpetual sense that we are always incomplete. It grows a notion that there is always gonna be something missing. We are so focused on the end that the present eludes us and this is the real death , when living while always trying to find something greater than this moment to access. Like the faith we conveniently forget, even after we are woken up day after day and our lungs gifted with breath. We are too blinded by the next step and too self-consumed to accept this is our fate. Running through life like its an emergency. Appreciate this time, not the minutes or days that are hopefully ahead or far behind. No rush just letting it flow smoothly in Its own way . No explanations, no justification needed as that is not a bridge but a cage to the deepest parts of your brain. It’s a peculiar thing when you stop and think there is not more to this life than the human eyes can see.
just dawned upon me awareness today
April 20th, 2022 14:30 military time.
Unvoiced law of the land
obeyed lest one
who owns temporary priority
will get mad and deliver hex
upon generations of violator
even if parked car property
of an innocent visitor,
who knew not the space
self relegated to Matthew Scott.
Fifth anniversary of our occupancy
housed within one bedroom apartment
additionally, familiarly, and specifically
known to us as B44
will occur July first
two thousand and twenty two.
Soon after we,
(yours truly and the missus)
moved here first day of seventh month
two thousand and seventeen
both of us unanimously co-opted
select parking space.
For residents at highland manor Apartments
self assigned parking exists here,
and each resident better be conscientious
cuz resulting consequence
(think Monty Python's Flying Circus
forever linkedin courtesy
John Philip Sousa's
'The Liberty Bell' March),
where mean strong arm of law
actually disguised as
animated outsize foot
see https://www.youtube.com
/watch?v=2AxiATxLofk
reaches from out the sky
and crushes wayward miscreant
hence verboten to dare occupy
parking space of another.
Fond memories associated
with me attempting to back into
between painted (occasionally
blurred) lines describing
open ended box,
whereby after umpteen attempts
(after shearing off tire tread
of driver or left passenger side)
amidst guffaws uttered by spouse,
she insists to take over
and backs in with nary a hitch.
Such unspoken accommodation
also prevailed when I happened
to consider myself a perpetual student
and established voluntarily
choosing a catbird seat,
and remaining steadfast sitting
in same chair
(of course I mean only
during time class in session)
throughout the semester.
Matriarch mastermind manipulated minions
rang their hells bells signifying
damned to traverse highway to hell
dirty deeds done dirt cheap
(names changed fo' malady to remain anonymous,
cuz they got thunderstruck
with psychological trauma).
Preface:
Upon bitterly cold dawning hours of January 2000,
the Harns family (not actual name of real persons
constituting yours truly
mine wife and at that time
deux darling very young daughters)
desperately sought place to live.
Neon Swat Team (an independent realtor) politely
informed us (meaning myself and the missus), our
family lease would not be renewable.
The reason without a rhyme?
Ever since events initially laid forth as poem,
I delightfully witnessed birth of daughter
number two February 4th, 1999, (whose existence this
papa helped beget approximately nine months prior),
now twenty two plus years passed rendering contractual
non-binding obligation null and void - whew.
Even though then barely tipping scales at less than ten
pounds of flesh, (this bundle of sugar, spice and everything
nice, especially when adorned in pink bows inclusive),
she warranted unlawful occupancy capacity subsequently
exceeding one plus bedroom apartment in Schwenksville,
Pennsylvania.
Body quasi poetic/prosaic
minimally couched, sunk, tabled...
within wordy mosaic:
We reckoned to live temporarily at premises vacated by
mother in law from hell (since recent death of her husband,
whose after life settled him in Willoughby) domicile situated
at 1148 Tree Green Lane (a cozy and lazy keystone chic
urban outfitted hamlet tucked into totally tubular foothills of
Venn Palley, Pennsylvania), a nook of quaintness plum
perfect where rivers Ratford Upon Savon converged.
O, elusive muse, mysterious and profound bruise,
you bewitch my soul, never to be found in the way of former use.
In your absence, I am left with bittersweet
caramello pain,
forever longing for your ephemeral archery reigns,
to stick your finger in and frost your tips, lips, hips.
With every plié, a heart skips a beat,
as feelings pirouette upon your rage
and bloodlust and cage.
Each soft tendu, a love story paged,
imbued with passion's fire, never to age.
But doth wrinkle rings around my heart like a chain,
loosely at first.
Then comes your tools of torture,
your sandblaster-twirls deoxyribonucleiy
amidst a dreamscape host given wage,
unfurls, serpentor,
hyour body, an instrument
for efficacies' grand gauge.
Through leaps and bounds, love's whispers
take shape, like an hourglass shaken
to be thrown to the Leviathan sea.
Given over to the carcinogenie of winds,
carrying own lamp of photosins seeding plans.
Your occulant lids, occupancy Inn
unfolding a tale stolen from Wonderland
with narrator mouth agape.
Like a hellmouth opened revealing iron rows
of oscillator teeth, of to then throe.
I know there is no escape, but surrenders
oasiatic retreat of blue snows.
From your sire nyour cover of cape.
Spellbinding me to the elements
like salt in the wound to taste and one to grow.
O, ballerina of love, your steps mesmerize,
evoking metamorphic fertiles,
lilypad touchstone monads of diodes and control pads and padded rooms of the matrixed "mad",
making us crystals of your rites,
constellate consulates of your Medusaic petrify,
metamorphed from pieces of coal-
fitted for pressure, heat of becoming
from your diamond bit drill.
But beneath the surface of t h i s-
frozen-heartless veneer,
y o u r c a r o m i n g d a r k n e s s
come to take me away-
lies a fire, a longing, a blaze yet unquenched
Ignited by the spark of hope,
a steal cable between your wench
the yearning for warmth
worked by passion match.
There eyes an unaided flicker,
Me, the Wicker-man
struggling against your vice grip,
your tangle of betrathed lisp.
I am tied by your poetry,
your visa drip, feminine W I C C A - Beltane slip
of slip.
A bridge too far,
of golden vistas burning,
now, there is no return.
For me, only to find your drowning sea or burn.
the future is a check that might bounce
but this moment we’ve just moved into
still smelling of fresh paint
is already taking on a lived-in charm
we’ll go on furbishing it as we go along then
here with red paint of lips on lips
there with a mirror of eyes lost in eyes
words deep-piled and moans deep-throated
and thoughts hugging like bodies hugging like
dimmed lights hug the walls
and matching heartbeats
matchmade by a tiptoeing ballad
this moment is ready for our full occupancy
it has nothing to prove
except us
let’s stay here for a while
and boycott the ever after
In the midst of vacant hours, echoes of expressions on opposite ends
are something of the same. Ruminating on questions; questions about
thy and questions about thou intertwined
with the then and the now. Thoughts
prelude to other thoughts of
thoughts emerging to
many thoughts.
Consulting and
considering
the death
and birth
of us; is thy
disinclined
to shed the
events upon the
ground transformed
from a dream out of a
dream to this dream only of us?
A coherent argument it is, that the
memories back on yesterday brought us
here today...But, when thy and thou bodies
meet and descend upon each accreting to the singular; occupancy
quickly overcomes vacancy leading the thoughts of many thoughts effaced.
(Sigh)...Thy and Thou love bolsters all the more today than back on yesterday.
Pace, G
INK-U-SCRIPT
12-11-2012