Long Vegetable Poems
Long Vegetable Poems. Below are the most popular long Vegetable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vegetable poems by poem length and keyword.
Spring rain
Swaying trees;
Howling wind
Wet cherry blossoms
Dewy flower carpet;
Trail of footsteps
This sudden splash
Vivid skyline colours;
Rainbow reminder
Eastern shores
Sea at high tide;
Misty translucence
Lovers by seaside
Sunset serenade;
Fragrant promises
Sunset strip
Winding pathway;
Moments slip away
Love wears a smile
Spontaneous feel;
Authentic embrace
Here by the bay
Seagulls congregate;
Birdsong sermons
Mango clusters
Ready harvest;
Chutney forthcoming
Vegetable mix
Salad dinner meal;
Cool sitcom heralds
Saturday newspapers
Extra thick volume;
Too much to digest
Years have mellowed
Old couple sit together;
Silently talking in smiles
Diabetic in wheelchair
Distraught temper;
Selling tissue packs
Touch of magic
Calm enlightenment;
Charm deposits
Bank queue at noon
Sea of faces;
Unknown agendas
Come let us see
Beyond creature comforts;
Confront hazards
Once upon a blue moon
This invitational;
Rites of passage
By and by,
The vast dark skies;
Awaiting thunder
Blur as a squid
This instance here;
Lost in translation
Joy in the rain
This funny feeling;
Live in sure verge
Leon Enriquez
26 Apr 2014
Singapore
Floating in vacuum,
morphine intravenous supplied,
pain deadened,
she lies dormant, oblivious to all,
thoughts suppressed,
unfeeling and benumbed
in the emergency cubicle.
Her husband holds her hand,
icy, like winter at its worst.
She moans, eyes flutter,
only to fall asleep again.
Anesthetized she finds rest.
Monitors bleep to rhythm,
steady as she goes just like
a sailing boat on rough seas.
She will survive.
Husband bewildered.
A human vegetable?
Oh no the expert says.
She will be fine.
The husband dials a number,
talks softly not to disturb.
There will be no divorce,
it's best that they give up
and do not meet again.
The woman on the bed groans.
Is that a smile on her lips?
beauteous brown bounty
alluring chocolate hills---
landscaped monument
awesome mountain range
welcomed by firmament clouds~~~
nature's grandeur staged
flora terraces
fruit trees, vegetable gardens...
God's nurture displayed
*Psalm 148:1 Praise ye the LORD. Praise ye the LORD from the heavens: praise him in the heights....148:9 Mountains, and all hills; fruitful trees...
August 24, 2020 for the first haiku originally titled, "Brown Bounty."
Added two haikus on September 3, 2020 for series of Haikus on mountains and hills.
Honorable Mention, "COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE(3) any theme any form" Poetry Contest; Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 9/4/2020.
The Animal from Flowers as Perfect Mistake
shivers of hot ice passed through my flesh of stone,
animal from carnivorous flowers with petals of crude vegetable blood,
you looked like a bad correct mistake made from pure intention,
from the mouth of the gentle lion to the tail of the ferocious large mouse.
you had not a bit nothing of a bone full of gnawed fiercely hard handsome,
in abundant lack you were a horse with a bouquet of soft sharp thorns,
gentle wild grazing violently on a pistachio concrete prairie,
designated confusedly in a clear stain of whisper that screams silently.
breeze solid vapor floating heavily through the dense transparent full air,
honor from sober drink of lucid hangover and badly drunk,
you goddess venom medicine that heals poisoning lightly deeply,
that bows revolted at the altar of its constructive destruction!
animal from old childhood chlorophyllery of red green blood,
you kissed me the last time first time for the eternity of the short moment,
tearing my whole rags the meadows of the grave that breathes,
to the wind inverse face the hair corollas from facts without living action.
your breasts to gather weaned emptied full of the milk of void,
your bad perfect mistake corrects me in my right error,
your animal flower tames the beast with its wild gentleness,
the last time first time you kissed me endlessly in a short moment!
Ma issued a decree that Pa received with very little ardor:
"A vegetable garden is needed to supplement our meager larder!"
Pa would rather spend his leisure time snoozing on the couch,
But he allowed he'd better get to work to appease the dear old grouch!
Pa hadn't been an ardent granger when a young Hoosier lad,
Laboring under the demanding oversight of his agrarian Dad!
Since his options were rather slim, he set upon tilling a patch,
And with spade, shovel and rake cleared it of its thatch.
Ma said, "I want lettuce, radishes and sweet pertaters,
Carrots, cabbages, rhubarb and beefsteak termaters.
Onions, asparagus, sweet corn and blackeyed peas,
And celery, string beans and rutabagas if you please!"
Under Ma's constant cajoling his summer looked very bleak.
He knew he had a "long row to hoe," so to speak!
Pa spent the summer planting, weeding and ever wishing,
He'd be relieved of his plight so that he could go fishing!
For seeds, plants and such they'd spent a fortune in dough,
And all that hoeing and spading had'nt helped Pa's lumbago.
Muttering beneath his breath, "Things'll be different next year;
She can plant flowers - I'll sit in the shade and enjoy a frosty beer!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Placed No. 4 in How Does Your Garden Grow Contest
See them walking down the street in fine tailor made suits, Jackets and ties to match and expensive shoes to match their suites; their haircuts is sharp and their perfume can still be smelt after dark .They are holding executive bags in their hands and a motion is spinning around in their head to kill your ideas before they materialize.
See the bureaucrats in the bar drinking wine and crunching figures, they just had a hefty lunch and plan to oppose the bill before the votes begin, they don’t agree to anything and they drain your energy before the day begins, there is no solution to solve their problems and the road that they are traveling on is a very difficult one.
See the bureaucrats in the room getting ready for a meeting that will begin at noon, they have the agenda laid out in front of them and a master plan that will land them in heaven.
The bureaucrats are waiting at the gate so strike a deal with them before it is too late. Their visions are limited and they are not creative. Once they formulate a plan they will stick to it until it lands them in a precipice ; they are quarreling among themselves how to spread the resources among the community, they are selfish, stingy and mean and they eat the gravy off before the negotiator walk through the gate and give the pure rice and flour to eat without vegetable or meat.
I stood outside the revolving door watching them coming and going, they move around with a sense of urgency but nothing was really happening, a fake smile appears on their face and I watch them passing papers from place-to-place muttering something out loud .
Suddenly a man stood up from the back and start to shout, he was angry about a proposal that was overlooked by the one at the top, they kept carrying him around in circles and the sudden outburst shocked everyone in room.
It came like a missile straight through the window and disrupts the proceedings,, they argue among themselves and the distractions continue all the way up to twelve, the meeting was over before it began, they could not control their raucous emotions ; two men rolling in the dirt over a simple words, the Bureaucrats are sleeping in my bed and you have got to remove them before the gangster bruised their heads.
The Bureaucrats are moving around the town in shorts sleeves and long gown.
There are not enough tears to form from my eyes/
I cannot feel my face from time to time/
Sorry, if I left you all alone from this moment on/
Because I cannot talk, I cannot speak, I cannot write, I cannot feel this poem/
Oh, God I wish I was lying/
To all my loved one's out there/
Don't cry for me just hold on with despair/
I will never leave you all alone/
This poem or song will forever live on/
I pray please God give all my loved one's your strength they need/
After they bury my body and then cover me with grass seed/
I am slowly dying/
I have seen the darkness and the light/
And please don't worry this will not be my last poem/
Just think of me as a little bird singing it to you all my song/
Trust me I have written so many that I actually lost count/
I think it's all in one of my old shoe boxes underneath the couch/
I cannot beat the inevitable/
But my only promise to you all I will not end up like a vegetable.
Rather than crank up the heat...
and ratchet up global warming
like bubbling vegetable stew
with tsk... tsk... heard
courtesy Greta Thunberg,
who would utter "how dare you..."
I bundle with layers to stave off cold
energy efficiency drilled courtesy
me late mother conserving
nonrenewable resources she extolled
now ewe best heed following suggestion
wool worth 3d printing than wearing
a sheep doubled over
along dotted line to fold
cuz expending (fossil fuel)
leaving carbon footprint
would immediately being lectured
by ecology conscious eldest daughter,
(a University of Pennsylvania
biomedical engineering alumna)
who would mildly scold.
Myself and thee missus holed up
here within Highland Manor Apartments
(unit B44 in case you wanna drop me a line)
we're here moost every cold December day
sipping warm cup
of our favorite beverage
exotic coffee latte brew
suits this muttering pup
actually yours truly
a doggone ole
long haired pencil necked geezer.
He can be found moost any given warm Green Day
shuffling along boulevard of broken dreams
overhead skies colored rosy gunmetal gray
occasional huff fro zen cloud slashing solar ray
heating inside cozy nook,
though outside temperature brisk,
nevertheless for winter quite balmy
while I sit here heavily clad,
hence yours truly quite toasty within
perfect weather for wedding,
especially one hashtagged December/May.
After dusk i.e. established misnomer known as sunset
occurs 4:36 Post Meridiem heavens quickly turn jet
black today - Thursday, December 10, 2020 (EST)
whereby darkness lulls one into sleepiness, I bet
dollars to donuts impossible mission
to keep eyelids opened, particularly if sleep debt
necessary to pay the sandman,
who knows maybe you gotta get get
comfortably numb vis a vis temporarily unconscious
state, whereby dreaming of a white Christmas
analogous to eventual Elysian Fields,
where divine creator
conjuring Nirvana and/or
a place called Willoughby
if a believer, said Almighty eventually met.
It don’t really matter
If Plaster of Paris is not made in France
If Ginger and Fred never learned how to dance
If shoestring potatoes don’t grow in a shoe
It don’t really matter because I love you
If airports have doorways but call them a gate
If calories will never cause us to wait
If moisture each morning is something that’s due
It don’t really matter because I love you
If hamburgers aren’t really made out of ham
If jelly won't work to get out of a jam
If something that’s old becomes something we knew
It don’t really matter because I love you
If plants that are planted are still called a plant
If uncles get sad when they step on an ant
If skies that are happy do always seem blue
It don’t really matter because I love you
If doors that are open are really ajar
If milkshakes aren’t served on a sweet chocolate bar
If vegetable soup is not really a stew
It don’t really matter because I love you
If kings in a downpour get caught in the reign
If birds lifting boulders are not called a crane
If flying the coop came from chickens that flew
It don’t really matter because I love you
Grammatically speaking, my title is wrong
And maybe this poem goes on a bit long
But who cares as long as you know it is true
The one thing that matters, is that I love you
4/17/17
Written for the: “Best Rhyming Poem 3” poetry contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Carrots for breakfast, carrots for lunch, Carrots for dinner, crunch, baby, crunch.
What are your immediate feelings about soup on a plate?
Vegetable and broccoli potato are both well worth a wait.
Don’t gag on the mushrooms,
You big ugly buffoons.
Crunch them up meticulously slowly, and good luck,
Don’t be afraid of disease, though they’re grown in the muck.
Pudding for dessert,
Who would, you blurt.
Oh, sorry, I mean, what’s that you say?
You could eat pudding any ole’ day?
Enjoy your leisurely dine,
And eat your pudding refined.
Chocolate, caramel and pistachio.
They are all stirred up warmly nice and slow.
Delicious delicacies on paper is a poet’s go-to write,
Everyone loves to think about taking an enormously tasty bite.
Spaghetti, pizza, meat loaf too.
All main dishes for me and you.
Hamburger, egg salad, smeary and good.
I’d eat it all up and be completely satisfied if I could.