Long Unplanted Poems
Long Unplanted Poems. Below are the most popular long Unplanted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unplanted poems by poem length and keyword.
how old are they now
those that fell by the wayside, one foot in the unknown
the others that disappeared to the other side of the moon
why were they lost, spilling into the wind
tossed upwards, cast aside, like an unrequited memory
giving way like broken clouds
silently dispersing into the vast, midnight sky
how did we let them go…
turn our backs on an exodus we don't quite recall
while they took their leave without a sound, ...not an echo, nor a cry
fragments may reappear
weary and worn, without a name
disguised by the ashes that hide the flame
how often do we believe we might see them ignite
rising up from the alter of youth
like a sunrise from the afterlife
but grasses grew unplanted
sprouting out of nowhere
to fill the vacant spaces
we didn't know were there
____________________________________________________
8/31/21
contest Vagabond Dreams
sponsor Craig Cornish
Treason Reasons
Concreted cracks, abandoned train tracks,
unaffordable housing built like shacks.
Unplanted seeds gardens of weed,
never having enough to satisfy the greed.
Unseen view, is the sky blue?
Goodwill bought unlaced white shoe.
The frontyard seat on ol' bucket street,
cool air doesn't help that kind of heat.
Battles kill, unordinary run of the mill,
another happy mailman undelivered bill.
Where is our morality? What is our deal?
living here in the now is such a reality kill...
bmdavey@
02/24/16
Virtues are more than they appear to be.
Ripples of connectivity.
Something switched on with the light?
A companion, manual, override.
Especially when storm clouds rear- appear to ruin the blue skies'-
But not like a knife,
that cuts the whole in holes,
of possibility.
Like procedural shears.
Is it Godless or Goddess ambrosia?
A poultice tea for the sick?
A placebo innoculation against lack of faith?
Selfishness in self paranoia,
Just for your sake.
A dark principality and clever mind-
Vampirism-Medicating prophylactively against
the stake, like an aneurism.
Those pesky ghosts of darkness.
In the blood.
Possess your sconces, flame, dead.
After it burns your wick at both ends.
Seek to destroy, the lightbringing.
Your senses dampened,
fuse blown
guard down.
Darkness.
On the Rampage.
Rampant.
Their Entrance.
Gained instead.
your abode,
not yet
accepting the gift of Life ?
lone
you abide,
Crashing the rifts,
Is this right?
Do YOU still not believe?
YOU are a (A still born-unborn,)
that be's -
the one that grieves?
A loss.
Of integrity?
Keeps an eye on the prize.
Under the storm of seize.
The Gate Keeper with beauty under wing.
Keep an eye for.
The Ace up the sleeve.
--------
No strings attached, divorce yourself from responsibility, integrity.
Lies.
Faithful predictability?
No connectivity. No breath or girth
No cosmic sister. No brother.
Accident of birth, No love or family or anything home team.
Insignificant things or other?
Life, just random, little, quirks?
The illusion filament.
An antibody to judgment,
Ultimately, to be or not to be
sedated
by needs?
Deflated by deeds
Unplanted seed.
A Dawn to share.
Unborn fruit to bare.
No fear.
He IS near.
Integrity is there,
a silver lining that adds true colors hue
against the black and white.
The false and the true.
Out of the blue.
Something that makes Avalon appear in the misty near.
Clearly.
A magic against the shade of Night.
A cloak and warmth to pull tight.
Peace of mind.
I say piece of soul.
That is never changing.
Someone to be connected to is
happiness, an insurance policy against a reason to be.
Nested like treasures priceless, eagle parents watch over the brood
On an island far away from the city, I beheld in a vision of azure blue
A rural settlement in waste laying, arid with black bile
A desolate, decaying riverine pride
Above sunken war canoes and ores only dead men mine
Tricked and deprived of life,
Numb but not from the rum they had drunk while on Earth
Now with the blood drained from their faces and their skins ashen
I saw nearly all their sinews rot away in split seconds
And their peaceful joy was pillaged
Yet unerring, inert, and grave quiet
In abundance of wealth they stayed barren
Cold, and stalled
Never had I seen such looping stagnancy,
Their fire had no warmth or vigor
Never had I seen such perfection made otiose by life's rigor
I asked the meaning of the spirit who carried me and one vocalized
Your ancestors require light they cite
The blood of brothers and virgins recite
Tears that never dry until honor is given to their sacrifice
And their bones are brought up to rest through rites
Shall there be feasting made to honor these who fought for heritage?
They knew not Christ
Gutty in the face of drowning deepness
With none to cheer them on with sweetness
If their lives become a graceful adage
Shall they also be examples to our young?
Shall their stories not be told around great bonfires?
Shall their odes not be sung at evenings?
As they dine with the gods by whom they're sired
Who shall reverse their unworthy demise?
Who shall carry them to sleep in the warmth of the land they sunk for?
They who stood to hold the bows for their hearthstone
And suffered the ravaging of foes, even reptilian fate
Possessing virtues in excess yet killed like beings worthless
Dying with seeds unplanted, and many wrested
Their houses are like deserts, their fields are barren and corrupted
Their spirits are rejected for the paths they travelled
Who shall lift their curses of hell and squander?
Who shall reach them now?
Who shall heal their broken spirits in the world after?
last year's unplanted
milkweed pods are
weighing happily
not on my chest
of drawers but
my bedside
end table
beginning
to open on
their own even
oddly because the
only something that
might be soil is my must
be dirty bedroom allowing
them to reign and roam free
over dust tumble weeds and
dandelion peasantry both
blowing in a draft's breeze
around my room but the
regality can be milked
out of this weed
and and or but at
some time i think
i saw peripherally
black and orange
as my door hinge
spoke in a creak
that they were
here with me but
when i woke was i
a man dreaming
that i was a butter
fly or a butterfly
dreaming i was
a man
Form:
on turning fifty
on turning fifty
today i looked in the rear view mirror
look back into the past
and see a speeding car go by
a decrepit car at that
unwashed, unkempt
with the driver having his nose in the air
the parallels to my life
more so with that car and driver epitomizing year fifty
... for my body and mind fringes on decrepitness, too
i reminiscence even more ...
at all the cars speeding by
all a blur
like the years of my life going by
in rapid succession
like i am ... how you say ... on a perfunctory march
i am, as we all are
my march, though, less happier than yours
fifty was a few years ago
and my nose stretches a little
how cute ... at least something still stretches
in my peripheral
the end of the freeway is near
how can it not be?
the aches and pains keep adding up
but what's eating me
are not the years going by
or the aches and pains
... it's having regrets
yes, regrets ...
it's taking the wrong fork in the road
earlier in life
and not having a foundation now
or having anything to show
it's watching everyone else tending to their
beautiful harvest ... as they turn fifty
their crops yielding and bountiful and rosy
i say bravo to them with all sincerity
yet how can this be ... my head shaking
and my harvest just a tumbleweed wreath of unplanted seeds,
unfulfilled dreams
... i hear a faint voice now of i told you so
yes mom you were so right
...what was that mom angels angels zap him,
zap him don't let him submit that...
huh? I can't hear you.
connie pachecho
4/13/17
Iron your dishes
Vacuum your clothes
Defrost the oven
Unplanted the rose
light up the water
Cut the lights
Bake the apple
Televised Radio
It's so, it's so reverence
Wash the bread
Stand or kneel
Baby's howl
His shadows feel
Ramon noodles raining down
Must be cold
Broom stick old
Darkening blackness purple dawn Adams ribs
This, all this been said before I came and went
It's all, part of the reverence
written by James Edward Lee Sr.(c)2017
July 11 2017
As i walk through this land
of broken dreams
I have a vision of so many
things
Feeling the pain of life blows
Helps to compound all my
woes
Happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and
confusion
All my life i have known fear
And the joy of happiness is
something kind of rare
Rules of hate rules the
world around
But for me they kind of
tumble abound
Everyday heart ache grows
much stronger
Pain now last much longer
Each day i labour in pain
Hoping for some few grains
to sustain
But deep inside of me
A dead end is what i can see
I walk in shadows searching
for light
But darkness is never out of
my sight
I've been praying for
someone who cares
For everywhere is being
surrounded by so many
fears
And there i stood with no
aim
Waiting for a relief that
never came
For so long i have been in a
pond of misery
For which i can't help '
CHEW THE SCENERY '
I search though i don't
succeed
Somehow am kind of stuck
like an unplanted seed
I just keep moving with no
direction
And keep believing for a
better destination
All things lost and no place
for a new beginning
All that's left is unhappy
ending
All hope seem to be lost
Even before the finish line
have been crossed
Tears of frustration running
down my cheek
Salvation i long restoration i
see seek
What becomes of a broken
hearted
One who it love is now
departed
I know i got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
All i need is some kind of
resolution that tend
To bring this broken dream
to an end.