Long Unoccupied Poems
Long Unoccupied Poems. Below are the most popular long Unoccupied by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unoccupied poems by poem length and keyword.
Enter apartment, ready to paint
Open the door and empty it ain't
Apartment not empty or unoccupied
Furniture everywhere someone has lied
Previous day, nineteen ninety five
Parked rented truck ready to drive
One single woman packing in haste
Filled to the top no room to waste
Unable to paint let one week pass
Return to the job no sign of the lass
Full of furniture time has stood still
Come back next week right now just chill
This is week two job is in doubt
Landlord orders furniture out
Donates items to new family in wait
Family from Haiti in need of the freight
Now it's all empty jobs good to go
Where is the lass no one does know
Prepare for the plaster and ready to paint
Soft knock on a door interruption was faint
Open the door elder man does request
All of the furniture now he is stressed
Landlord explains this tenant has fled
Weeks have passed no word was said
Father of daughter explains in strife
Daughter no longer has taken her life
Behind was left a husband, two sons
Heavy the burden weight in the tons
While loading the van can anyone know?
That she was thinking which way to go
Confusing the conflict inside her mind
All of them mingled and intertwined
Continue to paint apartment fourteen
Woman who left this worldly scene
Pondering heavy could words have been said
If they were? would be here instead?
Who's to know the outcome for sure
Only one fact she could not endure
Thoughts of her family are on my mind
Find the time show goodwill be kind
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me lose my mind—
blowing kisses to the empty air,
talking to an unoccupied car seat,
whispering goodnight
to a picture frame.
Holding your urn tightly,
feeling my heart beating
in sync with yours.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me be the wild one—
still wearing your ring,
laughing at your jokes
only I can understand,
weaving our memories
into every corner
of this hollowed world.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me stay mad—
a woman who refuses
to amputate her own heart,
a woman who loves
like death forgot
to close the door.
Let me dance with your spirit
beneath the invisible stars—
spinning inside the love we built,
the love not even death
can unravel.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then I will be wild forever—
gloriously,
tenderly,
fiercely yours,
until the stars themselves
forget how to burn.
A strange thing happens as I age,
Which cannot be controlled.
I tend to focus, everywhere,
On people who are old.
Today, a doctor’s waiting room,
A check-up for my eyes,
Was filled with those so elderly,
From seats they couldn’t rise.
As names were called, they shuffled out,
(Our wait time very wrong!)
But watching them, I wondered,
Is this group where I belong?
To get there, on the bus I sat
As people moved inside,
With canes and walkers, hoping
For a seat unoccupied.
And on TV, up on the stage,
On Oscar night, I saw
The older actors missing
All their sparkle, once a draw.
When I was young, I rarely noticed
Seniors within range,
Yet now, reluctantly, I see
My view’s begun to change.
Belle and her Birthday
Pleasant night slided, new morning fresh
Woke up with smile, this birthday lass!
First wish expected from hubby beside
He was still sleeping n' her wait prolonged....
At breakfast he spoke about his ...
business ventures, global market trends..
new mall in town n' yoga for health...
No sign of wishing his beloved
and her wait prolonged....
At office she was greeted with flowers n' cards
wishes from all poured yet vacant her heart
That one wish most expected still kept this place
unoccupied and her wait prolonged.....
Day went like another routine ,spray of dull display
as her mood was going off as she still thought...
Atleast one call or one message..but nothing came
leaving no signs of good hope anymore..
Packed off from office,reached she her home
rang the door-bell and her hubby opened
Saying nothing he went inside ...
Dark was the room as she entered,
muttering annoyance, she groped for the light switches...
Once lights were on she saw a heavenly decor !
Family and friends wished her in chorus!
Shining lights, red roses,creamy cake and candles..
He slowly with smile took her in his arms...
planted a kiss saying happy birthday my love!
Expressions of surprise, joy and rejoicement
on her face painted a golden glow...
Oh ..What a lovely birthday she thought!
Thank you sweetheart ...you made my day she whispered
still unwilling to get down from his secure arms!
Love dripped like nectar in this sweet surprise
Yet another embellishment this surprise to cherish together...
In their life's golden diary that hold leaves of love forever
Sprinkle sparkles of trust, friendship and respect for each other
WRITTEN ON: 24th August 2015
Perilous addiction hell bent completion deluded cohesion.
Negative infusion feathered motion, spiraling down like a crispy weathered October leaf.
Faded grasp like the winter sun in vision the same but a difference so vast
The echo of mankind never seldom to my ear, peace of mind never at cheer
Bellows and bellows of screaming lucid thought crippled by the same resort.
Wonky leg like a wonky chair bruised battered weakened and loose escaping like vaporing air.
The ripple of contained liquid just slight but a mystery to the mass I am inclined
Coned, padded, shut away, forgotten, a pressed particle of cigarette ash in a dormant
Hallway corner,
Noticed by a moment of dust filled beams of light, exhilarating in such short time
Gone again like black from night the acute jest of life, smashed glass left and unoccupied
The heart so cold like bitter urine in survival mode soggy chip squashed under foot nobody cares
Nobody’s good. Lost in a cold shockwave of pain thrown to shore different than any other
Too alien to mention too slain to fear a wondrous maze of capital esteem stagnant in movement
Pointless art all curved and pointless oh where I am and oh where do I start.
Can I awake can I resound is this reality or is it just another calamity. Insanity gone beyond
No track to unravel stability of the foundational start, just a implosion of art.
POVERTY
Poverty,
Merciless ruler of billions,
Your empire of Want, across the globe
You have stretched
As
In your merciless passage,
No village
No town
No city
No nation
No continent is left unoccupied
By
Your ruthless forces:
Of suffering
Of Misery
Of agony
Of despair, and
Of death.
The innumerable subjects of yours
Subjugated are
By
The powerful heartless few
Who
Their ruthless decree:
Of cruelty
Of indifference
Of inconsideration, and of
Shameful exploitation has been for centuries,
Unmercifully applying,
Grinding your subjects in
Their heinous mills of fathomless greed,
Always, taking for themselves the lion's share, first,
And then for more are asking,
While
The deprived multitude of starving men
Women and children,
On empty stomachs, they march
The horrid enemy of starvation to face
On
Famine’s unforgiving front of death,
Wishing thus
To die in the battle of survival with dignity,
Than
In agony to live another day without hope,
That their dream of satiety will ever come alive!
Oh, poverty,
Don’t ask me how I came to know you,
To know so well your grimy nature,
But
If I were ever asked, here is my reply:
"I know you, oh poverty, so well, for
since my birth, a loyal subject of yours I have been, and
still, a loyal subject of yours, I REMAIN TO THIS DAY!"
© Demetrios Trifiatis
24 February 2013
I asked Him, what he wanted
To save the people of this town
But he only shook his head
As he looked back at the mound
"I seek no Gold or Silver
No payment from your hand
I know it's hard for White men
For this to understand"
Then he looked into the sky
As he said a little prayer
Did some tribal dance
And threw powder in the air
I didn't have a choice
But, to put my trust in him
So I begged His god for mercy
And to wash away our sins
He didn't waste much time
As to treating of the sick
He went from house to house
With the pouch, full of his mix
He applied it to their foreheads
As he took it from his tote
And I have to admit it
It smelled like rancid goat
I watched him as he worked
Well into the night
They started looking better
I believed they'd be all right
But I myself exhausted
Found a bed unoccupied
Slid between the sheets
Then quickly closed my eyes
To be continued..............
The last train to my destination
Sparsely crowded, seats unoccupied here and there
Its weariness is palpable, even the lights are blinking
A group of commuters remain huddled together
After the day’s hard work they prefer nodding upon each others’ shoulder
The train runs sleepily, now and again lights from outside
Flash upon the saint-like faces of the people inside
The train gradually slows down, presently it’s a stop
The platform receives some home bound bodies, someone
Jumps into the compartment carrying a group of young girls
They are perhaps returning from their school fest
They have revelled much, played and sang and danced
So rightfully they are tired, momentary rings on their mobiles
Are responded to, and then silence again
One of them suddenly opens up her eyes
The obscene nudge in her breast can not be mistaken
Can she protest? Would she…
Her meek eyes show helplessness
The lustful hand strikes again… she sobs…
All of a sudden a slap on the face of the rascal
Reverberates through the compartment, a woman in tattered clothes
Raises her finger to him, she’s one of them who go to the town
To earn their daily bread
Next halt, the girls get down
The blinking back light of the train disappears, leaving a trail of dust
Yet another dismal day, there are no children here to play;
Are they at home is it a holiday;
No children laughing, playing s winging;
And on the swings no one there, they're empty;
No swinging, just a row of swings unoccupied;
No one running, no one on the slides;
The basketball court is empty;
No one is jumping rope;
All the ponies are still;
I wonder are the kids at home;
I see a row full of swings not moving;
I 'm used to a playground full of children playing;
But alas I transgress;
Now even the wind is moving the swings;
It's clear ever so Nobody here;
Just a row of swings
11/01/17
Its always gonna try you hard,
and make you break,
it will always make you show face and terrorize in pink lace...
Because I see movement of the waste-
its choreography decorates cake,
lets the whole place be a plate-
lets the rafters wave in place...
Because costly stages just might break,
and rotting basements just might take...
So slither away
and eat a homeless mans birthday,
in one try-
or one way.
Seizing the opportunity to come through to me,
just like a well seasoned spring,
coming and hugging,
like weed in the rain,
on a terrace-
unoccupied by the pain,
or people who bring the insane.
Not to sound wealthy but I'd go there again,
show my teeth breathing smoke and the thing,
being meaner than the bear losing her cubs to recycling.