Uncultivated Poems | Examples

Deathless

The dahlias were once,
they bloomed once,
now they are churning earth,
in a faraway time
making a living by dying.

Dead, the flowers are dead,
yet the dirt is alive with their progeny.
Uncultivated buttercups
are seeding green pastures,
weeds are building trestle bridges.
Fertile bones are mating in a humming mud

Nothing is too faraway,
to be dead for long.
Soon the heart blooms also.

The Red Dirt Road

Follow the red dirt road.
Take it slow, walk it,
this is not an exploration
nor a pilgrimage,
it is a short tour around
the beginning of an idea
and its end.

Move along
past the few rural homesteads,
pass beyond the shacks
and the weather-beaten
tumbledown cabins,
the double and single wide
not so mobile homes
with their rusting trucks.

Hurry past the gypsy encampments.
with their gangs of wild dogs
until that dirt road ends
in a dry long uncultivated field.

This is where the dust
covers the old road maker
and beside his sunbaked bones
see how his maps and plans
are rolled up tight
never to be unrolled again.

Two Faces

Shavuos, a holiday with two different faces
     One in an uncultivated desert
     The other on a cultivated farm...

  On Shavuos itself Jews soar to the highest of heights
     But this poem's about the run-up, pre-flight
  For it's all about how well you prepare
     that determines the outcome when you get there

  God whisked Israel from Egypt to Sinai in 45 days
     Then gave them the Torah without undue delay
  One face of Shavuos is therefore called 'Weeks'
     Jews count seven of them, then on Sinai God speaks... 

  The Festival of First Fruits takes five years to evolve
     For the first three, there's no touching a tree
        In the fourth year, that fruit tree is holy
  In the fifth year, in Jerusalem, Israel partakes, finally 

  What is the reason for these two different faces
     God didn't tell us, He left us no traces
  But I think there's a lesson: We reap what we sow
     ~ The longer we anticipate, the more we grow

Today

Today, of all days
Let's not make a deal
Out of sleep deprivation
There's a bag
Upon the back
That stands ready for invitation
...to spill

Expectations collect
Wanting love to appear
On scattered lines
Were you desiring
A truth bomb
From an uncultivated mind
...to heal

A moment, a pure moment
Where one sees
And desires the perception
Is the acceptance
One must experience
Out of a far fetched inspection
...to reel

Presence

Written by Trudy Schrader on 12-24-2022

Think Border-Less

The wilderness is uncultivated
The forests are untapped
The oceans are pregnant with billions

When I look at how many solutions 
That already exist in my choice sphere 
I crawl back into my shell

But the next minute, I'm informed of the crisis, in multiples of ten, that has hit the neighbourhood, and aha
I'm forced to step out and get my hands tilling. We need to keep the solutions coming because the challenges are on endless auto-arrival
Wherever you see a need to give a hand, forget the number of hands in the room, send in yours.

Voidness of Dreams

Worse than food shortages
     is the voidness of dreams
uncultivated field
harvest of unhappiness

Carefree

Uncultivated;
sensuous and delicate.
White clovers delight
In the beauty of spring.

How the World Got Colorful

Green was the theme, mainly green and blue
then came you
in your floral dance and open mouths,
red insect-eating lips. snaky tongues
big, bold, and subjectively pretty,
objectively fleshy,
lushly, lustful, lapping at life.
The sun adopted the new
grey turned greyer next to you.
Blooming bouncing behemoth begonias
yet uncultivated, all hungry to suck the soil,
burst breeding seeds, pollinate, infiltrate,
dominate, habituate, inflate.
Then when the small ape-like manikins
(proto us),
began to populate
they picked you.

Dancing To the Moon

Oh man, oh stupid moron twerp,
how could you be so bigoted and intolerant?
For I too saw her every blessed night
dancing in the glade, a youthful dance,
moon rays shining through dark boughs,
as she pirouetted, unshod and skimpily dressed,
deep in the dark green forest,
where no song birds trilled.
She delighted in her freedom,
she asked no one for help,
her food was all that she could find,
from the hedges and the trees.
Wild apples, uncultivated mushrooms,
yummy blackberries, cranberries and hazelnuts,
all depending on the season.
And although emaciated, she was strong,
dancing to the moon, in a silent interlude.
Until some idiot decided she was mad,
others agreed, and in an asylum she was sent:
Only to die.  Oh stupid feathered brained man!

Wildflowers

Wildflowers are uncultivated vegetation.
In forests and towns growing without cultivation.

Like most they are used in home medication.
Dandelions are nutritious and can ease pain's vexation.

Fever few staves off migraine attacks while,
Low immune is boosted by berries and chamomile.

Our bloating and gas is helped by chamomile tea,
While sore throat pain is helped with a bit of honey.

Eucalyptus oil can help make sinus pain moot.
Retaining water and PMS, try some chaste tree fruit.

Send out for a book on natural cures.
Don't poison yourself with drugs bought in stores.

Fragrant Rose

FRAGRANT ROSE

The fragrance of a rose
is loved by everyone.
Yet few understand its beauty
until their life is done.

They buy roses from flower shops
where all roses look the same
and neglect to visit hillsides
where roses grow in God's name.

Alone and quite forgotten,
uncultivated by men,
the ordinary rose
remains memorable until the end.

People try to control roses
to achieve wealth and fame,
but the rose is like a child,
the product from where it came.

Janet Marie Bingham

The Dilemma of Roses

The rose, having
no-longer
place to go…
for even, outside the gardens,
the wild well knows
that beauty, uncultivated,
never grows….
One does not use
soil tilled
by a scalpel;
and bodies of
unborn
to fertilize…
such eyes
cannot blossom
(though the shape
of bulbs)
nor ever produce
for the nose
one fragrance
divinely
pleasing….

Asparagus

Asparagus shoots, tender, and green~ killed
By late winter's artic blast and hoar's frost
All that intensive work, tossed aside, lost
The natural world rode in so skilled
Though maybe there are some shoots like love's thrill
In poor soil, lies quietly hidden tossed
Like an uncultivated field with plow uncrossed
Once worked, planted its destiny fulfilled

Those darkened stems once contained hope 
The promise everlasting that slowly faded
One hug, one kiss would be the saving grace
Stir asparagus, send up telescopes
Withered heart~ beat once again unaided
Fern fill the plate and flower vase

The Behaviorist

I’m lost in a foreign country
But I’ve lived here all my life
Recently I came into money
I bought a tractor and a Bowie knife
Now I’m farming the land, rotating crops
Doing it like the slaves
One of these days,
I might just forget to behave

I don’t get around much anymore
Since I was shot up in the Gulf
But I’ve only got the highest respect for war
It’s the reason I still have a pulse
So I pour cement, do whatever it takes
There’s always county roads to pave
I’m keepin’ busy,
In case I forget to behave

I learned a new kind of love this month
By the unborn moon’s new light
Check out this, it’s my latest stunt
With no net, I created a life!
And I’ll stand guard at the side
of my new little pride
Keep your tortured toy Jesus away
Today, we’re playin’
a game called “Forget to Behave”

Reading the great philosophers
Finding out where truth is at
Between the dream and the disbelief
lies the Cuervo bottle’s missing cap
I played the drunken fool, the uptight mongoloid
the uncultivated man in the cave –
You know, the place they send you
In the event you forget to behave.

2011

Little Wayward Child

"Little Wayward Child"

My Little Wayward child
with his misguided, unrealistic, violent temperament
weaving, going to and fro with no sense of direction.

My child I asked one night of course why?
only to receive a unpredictable form of response
with the attention span like that of collateral damage 
to the human spirit...
undisciplined, untamed, always in an uncultivated state of being
from afar
Carry on my ....
peace be with you in-spite of your uncaring ways, peace be with you...
until death do us part.

By: Deborah Vines 10/27/2017

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