Stationed Poems | Examples

THE GOAL

It is the ACT in the goal set that seals the deal
Nonetheless, many a goal are broadcasted abroad
In sheer exhilarations that fades like dusk
And at the mercy of drifting time left rot
A perfect semblance perhaps
Of seeds that by the wayside did fall
And starving fowls obviously did on them relish a meal
In the event of a year almost a farewell bidding
The goal had been stationed a beacon in the vast ocean
A compass for weary seafarers’ guide
Till safely are come ashore sure.

The Empty Hourglass

Embalming 
your memory
the funeral
dragged on
Returning 
the remnants
that pain
had prolonged

The pallbearers
stationed
each side
of the grave
A grieving
reminder
that time
— had enslaved 

(Dreamsleep: February, 2025)

Neither One Waiting at the Bend

Neither one waiting at the bend
   Nor stationed upon the hill
Was present to make offense
   Or entertain some evil will.

A breeze came, another went -
   Rattling the bursages
As a creeping serpent
   Going into hiding does.

If I died right here -
   How many lonesome clouds -
How many foraging birds
   Would pass by before I was found?

Would the beloved sun
   Care to kiss me good-bye?
Would the angels of the canyon
   Guide me on my flight?

The Cobra and the Mangoose

Shh…..! 
Don’t scare them away!
Let us watch this macabre dance
and enjoy the art in rivalry!

A battle between
two champions.
both in the arena,
armed with nothing 
but
teeth and fangs,
stationed immobile 
face to face,
eyes emitting sparks of ire.

A cobra
with spectacled hood wide 
hissing and shrieking, 
spitting fire and fume
and a mongoose 
with bushy tail up.

Who would win
this murderous combat? 

Yet to see!
Golly… gosh!

Hope is the thing with feathers-- continued

"Hope is the thing with feathers—
That perches in my soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all— "

Prayer is the thing with crosses
That, stationed in the heart,
Brings the Gospel, in few words
A contemplative start

Delphic

Title 1

"The forest is my loyal friend A Delphic shrine to me." ... by Ralph Waldo Emerson

The written word bears roots abound
Hail favored mist of hallowed ground
Announced breathtaking full-filled air
Spreads out enjoyment summons fair
Forgiving trailed Earth's crowning Star
Forest startup's reserves stretched far

Healthy hoards and wholesome intakes
Fresh novel minds elsewhere, retakes
Obsessed consumed florists stationed
Lives styled out stretched reawakened
Seedlings advanced Heavens promised
Groundbreaking achievements calmest

Cob-web silk thread eight-legged shooters
Tethered roots edged equaled footers
Floods 'neath grounds raise the gigantic
Psalmist summoned lessened frantic
Misplacements sequenced adjustments
Cause coursed through major monuments

Misfortune causeway lengthens aches
Stressed strung-out unmeasured outtakes
Commons traversed rights owned presence
Neighbors challenged core quintessence
Claimed righteousness labors bear fruits 
Attributes are well-served ... grassroots.

Kensington

Kensington 

Children of frustration
when dreams rose from the heap
the darkest of locations
tell white lies as they speak

open to persuasion
when abilities are weak
waves of degradation 
disturbs all those asleep

awake the dispensation 
to turn the other cheek
the house that they were raised in
and company they keep

a blur of segregation
when summers burn with heat
sit back for meditation
and sow all that is reaped

peer deep into what’s stationed 
the lost or stolen sheep
a core that rocks a nation 
only on occasion weeps

passed down from generations
too scared to take a peak
the truth is out there somewhere 
you can find it in the street.

On the Train

We ride the train at night. Store front signs flash neon onto our faces through the window. Red, green, blue in words we don’t know. Four foreigners crowded in with a hundred faces. They speak in a language we can only catch a few pieces of. We get stern looks from disgusted fellow travelers each time we speak. We travel in silence. But I know what they’re thinking. They don’t need to say it. I can see it in their anger. “You’d think if they are going to be stationed here, they’d learn to speak our language.”

                                          In our arrogance
                                 We think everyone loves us
                                       We are their saviors

A Great Lover of Poetry Soup

I have written over 9,000 poems and am in the Top 10.
Obviously, I enjoy writting poetry. Was born in Portsmouth
Naval Hospital on June 26, 1941. Am the oldest of six
children. Was in the USAF Stationed at McConnell AFB,
Wichita, KS. Was a Labor Economist State of Kansas
October, 1970 to August 1976. Moved to Redmond, WA
and was a Unit Administrator for Washington Army
National Guard. Wife was a Certified NICU Nurse at
Evergreen Hospital and Medical Center and graduated
from Wesley School of Nursing, Wichita, KS. We both
retired and currently live in RiverSea Plantation,
Bolivia, NC. Moved here on May 8, 2006. Been here 
longer than anyone else. Graduated from Wichita
State University. MA in Urban Affairs and BA in Sociology.

Bats In the Mist

Imperiling through the sky with blood settled on the tip of their tounges. They call out a cult of white hoods with the Illuminati eye on the shroud humanoids with red scaly skin 8 feet tall and burrow in the mesopelagic zone stationed into a temple full of books such as the Grapes of Wrath. One bat hovers over them in the dune hills of sand stepping upon the surface revealed to be a man in black who has a very spunky charismatic mustache. His however were full of curiosity but sinister intent. The creatures who took the very enfeebled shrouds covering their faces. Revealed was stone cold face of death glowing turning the bats into them as if they were a lighthouse herding them to the ingress of a new identiy.

Hey Giraffe

Hey Giraffe, I wonder how tall you are!
In height no other animal, on par
You're the tallest of all seen so far
Though not popular, to me you're a star

Some think you are lean and lanky
But I love you as you're never cranky
None can accuse you of being whacky
Shall I call you by the name Jackie?

You can reach up to any tall tree
Everywhere you can roam free
On flatlands you're rarely seen grazing
With your long neck you're amazing!

Love to watch you with your head up in sky,
Chewing green leaves stationed high.
Flanked with a coat of tawny spots,
Skillfully God has assembled your parts.

The Visit

The visit
I was in Porsgrunn once to visit my uncle
In the evening I went dancing at a noisy venue
I was in the Navy at the time and wore a uniform
People were nice and gave me plenty to drink
Back on the street, I kept falling over, and the police
Bless them let me sleep on a couch in them
Office until early morning
I took the bus to the coastal town where I was 
Stationed; somehow, I got drunk again
And they wouldn’t let me into the camp since
I was supposed to be there at ten, I had to sleep
On a park bench till morning.
The police in Porsgrunn were more civilized.

Stationed

Every night, the train's melody unfolds 
Its resonant hum, a whispered cosmic sigh 
In the depths of sleep, its secrets it holds 

Time and existence converge as it passes by 
Revealing the symphony of life's grand design 
Its resonant hum, a whispered cosmic sigh 

Within its rhythmic cadence, I find mine 
A journey embarked upon the ethereal rails  
Revealing the symphony of life's grand design  

Transcending mere existence, love prevails  
As the train's wheels trace destiny's path   
A journey embarked upon the ethereal rails   

Infinite possibilities, intertwining aftermath  
The merging of souls, a cosmic ballet  
As the train's wheels trace destiny's path

Eternity's embrace, we willingly obey   
In twilight's embrace, our spirits entwine   
The merging of souls, a cosmic ballet  

Every night, the train's melody unfolds 
In the depths of sleep, its secrets it holds

A Gift For Myself

I needed a pick-me-up present
But couldn’t rely on an elf,
So I found what I wanted on Etsy
And ordered a gift for myself.

The crafter is stationed in Ireland
So when it was several days late,
I figured that holiday madness
Meant that I should be patient and wait.

Today, though, with patience rewarded,
A package arrived; there were cheers
From my husband, who noticed the dangling
As Guinness pints sway from my ears.

Professional Juicer

River flows in desert, 
Express roads in wilderness, 
Bountiful harvest in exile, 
Technological assignments to a master, 
Make electrons flow in circuit(s). 

Watery jokes in sadness, 
Colourful muse in loneliness, 
Faded depression inks happiness. 
Yet, wisdom never relent its chase. 
How circuit breakers save blue heaven! 

Trances are loyal, 
Than physical nature's monuments. 
Logics are reasonable, 
Than loyalist in temptation. 
That's Lucy in the sky with diamond! 

Let no right fight, 
For left is at the corner.  
If left keep calm real good;
Argument won't win discussion, 
When cut-outs are well stationed. 

Understanding to the listeners, 
Knowledge to the speakers, 
Wisdom to the readers, 
Muse to the writers, 
All works together for the best.

• Short Stationed Poems
• Famous Stationed Poems
• Best Stationed Poems
• Read Stationed Poems
• Long Stationed Poems
• Stationed Quotes