Situated Poems | Examples

Cloud Watching

When I was younger, I thought that in retirement I would take pictures of or paint beautiful clouds situated so vividly above us.

Clouds more often appear as wonderous displays in the canopy.
Clouds sometime seems so ominous and threatening.
Clouds often hover above us like a band of darkness and at other
times, they are white and crystal clear. Some clouds are blown by
the winds and descend in tornadic ways that are too close for comfort, twisting in rotations of destruction.

Casual observers of clouds may be filled with fright.  Living in a region where clouds change so suddenly, never have I observed clouds as I do presently.  I think that real farmers are not taken aback when grey clouds appear. If they dared to be frightened by troubling clouds, perhaps they would never sow seeds.

Perhaps someday I will follow through on what I once wanted to do.  Perhaps I'll begin to paint beautiful clouds as I sit under a shady tree.

Penned to an Old Friend

Hello! Old friend,

You crossed my mind today,

After decades of no thoughts of you.

Today, I sat across a meeting I'd rather avoid;

Then I thought of you.

I wonder what happened to the life of us.

We were there, then we weren't;

Too absorbed by the happenings.

We didn't remember to preserve our sight of each other. 





My old friend,

I thought of you today.

I found out you also had your share of life and its happenings.

I remember you,

Just like how much of the past I want to forget.

The memories of you are delicately situated in that past,

But I thought of you today. 

I remember the smiles we shared.

I still remember that we share the same birth month.


To an old friend,

Being friends again might not be possible,

But I'll always remember that we were once friends.

I'll only remember us as friends.

Alone but not lonely

2025.3.24@03:08:34

I was sitting on the bench,
Under an enormous pine tree 
Situated along the concrete footpath,
Away from the beach.
After a short rest,
I took out a box of food,
Enjoyed my home made lunch,
Was not long at all, a flock of seaguls,
Came from every where landed around my feet.
Each time I threw my food high,
Up in the air into the sky,
They were exited and flapped their wings
Wide opened their beaks,
And made their distinctive sound "Krraa, karra"
When I stopped feeding them,
They settled down and patiently waited,
Something caught my eyes,
In a distance, between my bench,
And before the sand reached the ocean,
A single seagull, stood on a stone wall,
Patiently, looking at us all.
What did it want? 
I raised the question to the seagulls.
Instead of answering me, they flu 
Away one by one,
The Loner seagull joined them at once,
And they all disappeared as Mr Loner always did.

A Pleading Call For My Leaders

My country is very strategic in nature
I'm asking for our leaders to act decisively
Make my country to be the center of business
My country is situated in the midst of Asian corridors
Let my country stand politically and economically
Free from foreign intervention and bad influences
My country is predominantly a Christian nation
Let God be the center of our people and nation
Leaders must act on immediate and long term solutions
Let my people love and care for my nation.

Blush of the Blossoms

I cherished time walking through Cherry Blossoms,
And when it is to turn pink, it’s mind-blowing.
It’s like a pink rug situated on both sides in Kyoto,
Experiencing the Promised Land while having Cotto.
 
I love observing the farmland plowing,
The fields appreciate him by bowing.
 
I am dismayed at the strangers who see me trespass,
Imagine them complaining so fast to the gran who owes the meadow.
Envisioning her catching me while I'm passing through her swath,
She solicits me if I'm trying to display this as my path.
 
Visualizing my agitation after I get busted,
Then the old wrinkled gran will make me entrusted.
For sure assign me to babysit the offspring,
I’ve to make him feel like a king,
Oh God! I cannot envisage it!

it is all about children

It is all about children.


I know of a man who can be outspoken at times
he is also very rich, which can be an aber
the struggle to find meaning in life when 
you can have all the physical things life offers
To be wealthy is a strain, do try it if you can 
the man in mind also has a great sense of
wicket humor, which makes a so very human
He has the idea that people of means should
have as many children as they can 
I agree the well-situated can afford to give 
children a proper upbringing and a great education 
and they will not have a disabling effect
the plague of poverty.
His critics are many, but that goes with the terrain 
let me say the middle class also can have a child
or two or even three if they can afford that
the world needs lawyers and people to fill 
office space and talk on the TV
As for workers, one child is enough physical
labor is no longer needed, anyone can learn
how to operate a forklift.
The rich man I know of has not spelled it out 
like that because screams of protests,
 might
lady riot, so let me put words in his mouth
It is all about children and the future

AFTER THE FLOOD

AFTER THE FLOOD

After the flood has subsided
With insurance claims made
Pertaining to the destruction
There’s all the reconstruction
The memories will never fade
And reluctant moves decided

Now leaving a riverside location
After years of increasing prices
Insurance premiums now sky high
And still the ground is not dry
Fearing a repeat of such a crisis
And little advance information

Perhaps a home on a mountain
But never on a low marshy plain
Nor situated by a body of water
Flooding offers few any quarter
Is our future to be constant rain
Drains overflow like a fountain

It’s climate change, they all say
But there’s been floods before
Seas just a metre or two higher
In coastal regions it will be dire
It’s history, so just talk to Noah
Maybe it’ll happen again one day

Feeling Sorry

Feeling Sorry

Lie after lie after lie,
Looking and swearing right into your eye, 
It’s always the same though I try,
I bleed and you cry,
You die and I’m high,
I’m low and your high,
You ask why and I’m lost in my mind,
You can search for it but it’s something you won’t find,
You’re right in front of me but I’m blind,
We seek answers but maybe it’s just my design,
You’re a perfect shape in every way but I’m undefined,
I’m angry at myself but you remain caring and kind, 
I’m always in your mind and it’s unfair because I’m a cancer that’s malign,
I’m situated just behind your eyes,
So cut me out before I take your life.

MIRO catipedeo

meticously
   drawn
In
  bizarre
        parallels
coldly
   situated
sans
   the preconceived

The dull mean I sit in

Considering the finale
Piloting my survival.
Anxious thoughts prevent deadly decisions
But these decisions have made themselves well-situated.
Still, prayers haven’t been answered
So I search and seek
Until I become conscious of where I am.
Idleness is my safest abode 
I crave it when I leave it
And forget it when I drown in it.
No thoughts roam here 
And the troubles do not keep me chained.
But I am without knowledge of the world
then can I feel safe in my humble, ignorant abode of nothing.
This isn't the golden mean
But the grey middle ground
That only darkens when dipped to either side.
It is not death that I seek
For death enters a void I cannot know
But the detachment from reality 
and into the dungeons of the unknown.

A Heart Finding Place

SAND castles on SANDY beaches.
SEALS, SEA gulls, and SAILING SHIPS.
SAFETY SOUNDS from the fog horns.
SHAKES and quakes enough to wake.

SEA tides, both high and low, or, fast and slow.
SUNSETS custom manufactured in heaven.
SKY rivers above, pouring rain STORMS below.
SOOTHING SWEET SLEEP from Ocean Tunes.

SAN Francisco, for me, a heart-finding place.
SPECTACULAR views from hills and peaks.
SAINT Francis' city, SITUATED by the bay.

SOME people SAID they left their hearts there.
SO SAD that I had to leave SUCH a beautiful place.
I lived there for 8 years. It's where I found my heart.

012024PS

The Deceased Man

The false apparatuses are presented on the tiny stage,
The surgeons want to shape up your archaic days.
The larger your poisons are,
The more lethal is their care.

You only care for the austere suggestions,
I want to undergo your sweeping portions.
I want to shake your hand in between infinity,
You want to pull me through this lumbering calamity.

I am another deceased man in this war,
Can you recall the black October?
There is so much rapture in the grave,
You only yearn to be brave.

You are now in a favoured hell,
I want to conjure you back and well.
I want to bring back my old salvation,
Where you were the most cataclysmic passion.

I beg you to wait for me in the uninhabited cave,
I will converge with you soon where you are already paved.
You are situated in your befitting place,
There is awaiting you the perpetual grace.

Dearest One May You Be- Cr

You sent
Blessed New Day Beloved l slept well and rested;
While I was under, never was I contested;
Renewed, refreshed in my heart mind and body; 
I thankful to our Father for our awakening Always; 
~
Dear One may you be at this moment;
Situated you are in peace,
In calming joy, in love, 
Embraced in Our Father's hope;
~
You are His breath, you’re His heart beat, 
You're His arms and hands. 
You are the Love of Daddy. 
And this New Day All is well with you 
I decree and declare nothing touches your peace joy this new day dawn,  Love

---Quietly True


9/22/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©2023

I Want To Be a Writer

I want to be a writer
I want words to worm their way
Out of the outer oblivion orchard
Where I pick pink pieces of my mind.
I want to be a poet
I want poppies picked perfectly preserved
From the consciously created cracks of concrete
Found situated solidly in separated stanzas.
I want to be a singer
I want sounds seeping from senseful songs
Instead of trapped tearing at my terrible tongue
As my vocals vanquish my volatile vocabulary.
Unfortunately, the aforementioned is abandoned due to abysmal accidents.

Sunflowers

Random- a small field of 
Beautiful sunflowers
Situated alongside the highway
Basking in the Sun
A Van Gogh inspiration

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