Populate Poems | Examples

O flowers

O flowers, your soul is so beautiful,
I would like to know you all,
You populate so many vast gardens,
Your silences are filled with treasures,
O flowers, I cannot name all of you,
Neither compare you,
Petunias, Magnolias, orchids,
You undo my chains with a single attraction,
O benevolent angels, you offend no one,
A rose alone in a blue vase
Change the life of a painter, or the fate of the world,
O flowers, how to end my life without loving you?
O flowers, how would my poem end
If you didn’t exist?

Why Doves Cry

Doves cry when the earth is being disturbed
When there's conflicts and war they are perturbed 
For doves are the dear Lord's symbols of peace
They bring olive branches to help wars cease.

Doves also represent the joy of love 
The golden gift from heaven up above
They coo-coo-coo to attract their life mate
Then build a nest for them to populate.

Doves sing their song to tell you that they're near
A song that's soothing and moving to hear
Their musicality is a calm balm
Alike listening to a holy psalm.

Stay as innocent as doves Jesus said
Never let evil thoughts enter your head
Doves appear when one has a troubled mind
On angelic wings, bringing love sublimed.

Send the rich to the mars

Let the best of you hurt your pride
stop the contradictions it's too late
turn around smell that faith
lost in the city of gates hear the bells.

Falls of diamond rains cover
the city of greed and anguish.
Golden tears and painful dreams
no one eye sees poverty screams.

Take your beliefs your weapons
and your meals on wheels.
They think you are crazy and lazy
and your hard work does not
count or worth of any amount.

It is our time it's now or never
take their yachts golf clubs and
populate their private islands
with real hearts and blue collars. 

Take back our stollen dollars
boycott oligarchy tesla cars
build back our smiles and 
affordable lives save working class.

Send the rich to the mars.

Ancient Home

Haibun 

Inky dark night. Jewels in the heavens sparkle like diamonds in a necklace. The Seven Sisters wink seductively while trying to sit in Cassiopeia’s Chair. Orion chases Ursa Major and her cub when he stops to slake his thirst from the Big Dipper. Great Leo butts’ heads with mighty Aries. Sirius, the Dog Star, is the glowing eye of Canis Major as she helps Orion track Ursa. Faint Polaris guides mariners to home port from the tail of The Little Dipper.

new moon
a black palette rules the sky
stars come out to play

The distant galaxies show off their faint light as clustered pinpoints as if the black curtain were pricked multiple times by a needle. Sagittarius points the way to the center of the Milky Way. Nurseries of star forming clusters birth new babies to populate the sky as old ones blow up and die. In the middle lie the monstrous supermassive black holes which suck all light in to their mighty maws bending time and gravity to their will.

	are they our ancient home
	signals from a distant past
	will we return to them

Leave It To God

Every dead saint was born a sinner.

Don't look and you will not see
Don't listen and you will not hear
Christians are above the problems of the world
Not involved allowing Satan to win
Ignore politics and hell expands
Leave it to God when all you have to do is vote with Him.

God made Adam in his image to populate the world
Adam took care of it
God made Noah to repopulate the world
Noah took care of it
God made Abraham to build his nation
Abraham took care of it
God made Moses to lead his people from bondage
Moses took care of it
God made Joshua to conquer the Promise Land
Joshua took care of it
God made Jesus to save the world
Jesus took care of it
God made you to do nothing?
Take care of it.

God calls upon people to lead with his miracles
but people are complacent
can't involve themselves in worldly politics
being the first to cry out when persecuted
never having the faith to fight
easier to leave it to God
Look, listen God is calling you
it is never easy to do right
often lonely when you fight
God is leaving it for you
Take care of it
Vote.

Where Do They Go

You see them everywhere,
sometimes countless in number,
winged, walking or wading,
running the gauntlet of waves,
filling the air.
Birds populate the planet, 
make their home in trees,
buildings, on grassy paddocks, 
icy continents and clinging
to the craggy heights of cliffs. 

So many. But where do they go
to die. We see only a few 
as roadkill or the odd one 
decomposing under a bush.
Where are the others?. Surely
death should be more visible
in their ranks, parklands dotted
with those that have fallen dead
from the sky or a branch. More
washed up on a beach.
You would think their remains 
would be everywhere 
in plain sight. But no.

It's as if the dead slip through
a portal and into the unseen,
leaving no trace. Or maybe
the earth simply claims 
and disposes of them 
in haste out of respect. 
Or do they find somewhere 
inaccessible, hidden from view, 
a place to pass away 
and leave the human mind
to wonder why
the bodies of the avian dead
seem to number so few.

THANKFUL FOR DRAGONFLIES

Today I’m thankful for dragonflies.
We find them by ponds, in lakes in rivers and by streams.
I love how the first people to populate this land believed
dragonflies were the deliverers of dreams.

And I particularly love this indigenous point of view:
If a dragonfly sits on your shoulder…
all your dreams will come true.

SPRING SONATA

SPRING SONATA

Now that ice has melted and the sun visits again
A transition, to warmth and that breeze of hope
Now that nature seems to have softly awakened
With a last vestige of disappearing morning mist
That youthful green is now emerging all around
There are those, now hungry after hibernation
As they slowly rise up from months of slumber
For others, the year has already begun in haste
Reproduction at full pace to meet the demand
A world to embrace, and an effort to populate
Now that winter is over, and Spring has begun

'in the Desert'

~ A Poem on the Parsha* ~

            
         'In the Sinai Desert'

  A wilderness - barren, desolate
    that snakes and scorpions populate

  Flat, sand-swept, open to all
    who yearn to hear Eternity's call

  There God led His new nation
    Spoke to three million, atop a mountain gradation

  On Horeb, the lowliest of them 
    face-to-face ~ Moses and Jerusalem



  ________________________________________________
  *'Parsha' is Hebrew for (loosely) 'portion.' Every Sabbath
     a portion of the Five Books of Moses is read in the 
     synagogue. In a year's time, all five books are completed,
     and the grand occasion is celebrated at the last holiday
     of the Fall Harvest Season, 'Simchas Torah.' (lit., 'Rejoic-
     ing with the Law.'). This Sabbath, the portion read is titled
     'In the Desert,' from the Book of Numbers 1:1 - 4:20.

Mother

Mother is just a simple word,
that often in the home is heard.
A noun, a person young or old,
a verb which many roles enfold.

Ordained by God, children to birth,
And populate the virgin earth.
To nurture them with tender care,
an instrument His love to share.

The one who holds a nation’s reins,
she educates her children’s brains.
When mother fails to play her role,
 the whole society pays the toll.

Instead of demeaning her role
Let’s lift up Mother on a pole.
When governments usurp her place
What baleful woes societies face.

Let’s celebrate this Mother’s Day
not in the usual kind of way.
Resolve to preserve mother’s role,
So, society can remain whole.

Moon

Moon

You may be cool and distant
Placing comfort in my soul
I love you when you're slender
Then much more so when you're whole

Turn your face towards me
In radiant, wholesome light
You're there throughout my daytime
But I feel you when it's night

Your blueness is hypnotic
Yet it wakes me from my dreams
I'm wooed like all the creatures
Who turn to you in streams

Wolves howling their approval
Of your tenure undebated
We sing of love beneath you
Longing humans captivated 

Your dusty earth seems fruitless 
Yet your story, still romantic
The race to populate you;
Sometimes pointless and pedantic 

There's a rumour that you're cheesy
Even if I think it's true..
I would rather you were cheddar
Than some over-ripened blue

You shelter us from missiles
Hurled our way from outerspace 
I consider you Protector
Of this fragile human race 

As tides like lungs beat rhythm
On the shorelines of our Earth
It's clear no single poet
Will ever captivate your worth


Jinjagoliath
6th February 2023

In Here

In here
I occupy the smallest space,
yet cultivate galaxies
to weave and web light
across an infinite sky,
or in darker moods,
conjure glaciers that grind
towards frozen seas
and numb the mind
with cold. Beyond,
I populate the unknown
with fickle gods.

In here
I pretend to be out there.
You may have seen me
seated at a table, conversing,
appearing to be at ease
when really I am - in here.
Out there I masquerade 
as me but what you see
is a fiction,
a mere automaton
moved by levers pulled
by me - in here.

In here
I cast no shadow,
all is a closed room,
a darkened theatre waiting
for a movie to be shown.
Thoughts wind like frames
through lighted gates
and blink images
upon a screen. I watch
and examine each passing scene
trying to put together
a picture of who I am.

In here
there is only me,
the solitary custodian
of a lifetime's haul,
the judge and jailor.
I would like to be elsewhere
but cannot gather in all
that is me. I spill between
the frames of this moving mind,
and these words,
no more than a notion,
a flickering ghost
on an editing room floor.

Ink and Echoes

Stretching out my crooked frame
I once again
see the odds are good enough
to join all those other nameless beings
who populate the internet
with ink and echoes.

In a dormant room
a laptop is singing quietly to itself.
Its calulating clock brain
ticking off moments 
on its fingerless hands 
waiting for the pitter patter
of my existential fingers to arrive.

A green plant (grown from seed)
is still sleeping.
I forgot what kind it is, it has no name
but against all odds
it flourishes in a dream-like way.

All night
posts from the innominate or,
the non-de-plumed
have been arriving from out of nowhere.

Against all odds, ink, and echoes
wait for me in a dreaming kind of way
for a reply, or at least an answer
to whatever, whom or why?

Odds

Against all odds
I live to breath-in the daylight
that filters through dark curtains.

The green plant (grown from seed)
is still sleeping.
I forgot what kind it is, it has no name
but against all odds
it flourishes in a dream-like way.

In a dormant room
a laptop is singing quietly to itself.
in a distant land
paws pitter patter over moonbeams.

Stretching out my crooked frame
I once again
see the odds are good enough
to join all those other nameless beings
who populate my life
with ink and echoes.

Dormice scurry around brown teapots.
Jackdaws caw and whistle
looking for something to steal
while we, the innominate,
are not looking.

Sun King

Valsa wrote a pithy prayer poem
That recalled my old Hindu man
As Jesus is a jealous Lord, groom
See John's Revelation. Yet each human
Must know how others see stars, moon ...
And I, new man through Holy Spirit say -

The sun is King, but God's deputy
In one of numerous provinces
That populate a universe, no longer lonely
ELOHIM,  Creator-God, filled the sky with debris --
Let's make it "atmosphere" -- that can reflect
Light in so many spectra. Ours the visible
Spectrum ... But gamma, Xray, ultraviolet, radio ...
Remain to be seen, if we invented new eyes
- or a special pair of glasses for humans, earth guys!

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