Advanced Poem Search

Submit Poem

Contests

Member Poems Poets

Famous Poems Poets Quotes

Fun

Member Area

Member Area
My Poems
My Profile
My Inboxes
My Outboxes
Submit Poem

Soup Social

The Wall
Chat Room
Soup Facebook Page
Poetry Forum
Events Calendar
Who is Online
Past Polls (Archives)

Member Poets/Poems

Premium Members For Life
Poets
Poets - New
Poets - by Country
Poets - Top 100 Poems
Poets - Top 100 Popular
Poets - Top 100 Contests
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poems
Poems - Best Poems
Poems - by Country
Poems - Hindi
Poems - Long Poems
Poems - New
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Poem Topics
Poems - Poetry
Poems - Random Poem
Poems - Read Poems
Poems - Search Poems
Poems - Short Poems
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Top 100 Recent
Poems - Unread
Poems - Urdu

Famous Poets/Poems

Famous Poets
Famous Poets - All
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Biographies
Famous Poets - Black
Famous Poets - by Country
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Popular
Famous Poets - Quotes
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poems
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Black
Famous Poems - Category
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Random
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Contests

Contests: by PoetrySoup
Contests: by Members
Contest Winners: Soup
Contest Winners: Member
Contest Status: Member

Lyrics

Lyrics
Lyrics - Search

Resources

About PoetrySoup
The Bible
Character Counter
Cliches in Poetry
Common English Words
Copyright Information
Dictionary
eBooks - Poetry
FAQs
Grammar
Haiku Syllable Counter
History of Poetry
Homonyms
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Love Poem Generator
Meter and Foot in Poetry
National Poetry Month
Poet Laureate
Poetics
Poetics of Aristotle
Poetry For Kids
Poetry
Poetry Definitions
Poetry Slam
Poetry Store
Poetry Out Loud
Prose
Publishing
Punctuation in Poetry
Quotes - Quotations
Resources - External
Resources - For Teachers
Rhyming Dictionary
Rhyme in Poetry
Spell Checker
Syllables
Syllable Counter
Syllable Rules
Teaching Prose and Poetry
Thesaurus
Videos: Poetry/Writing
What is Good Poetry?
What is Poetry?
Word Counter

Email Poem

From Email:
To Email:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem	On the fair green hills of Rio There grows a fearful stain: The poor who come to Rio And can't go home again. On the hills a million people, A million sparrows, nest, Like a confused migration That's had to light and rest, Building its nests, or houses, Out of nothing at all, or air. You'd think a breath would end them, They perch so lightly there. But they cling and spread like lichen, And people come and come. There's one hill called the Chicken, And one called Catacomb; There's the hill of Kerosene, And the hill of Skeleton, The hill of Astonishment, And the hill of Babylon. Micuçú was a burglar and killer, An enemy of society. He had escaped three times From the worst penitentiary. They don't know how many he murdered (Though they say he never raped), And he wounded two policemen This last time he escaped. They said, "He'll go to his auntie, Who raised him like a son. She has a little drink shop On the hill of Babylon." He did go straight to his auntie, And he drank a final beer. He told her, "The soldiers are coming, And I've got to disappear." "Ninety years they gave me. Who wants to live that long? I'll settle for ninety hours, On the hill of Babylon. "Don't tell anyone you saw me. I'll run as long as I can. You were good to me, and I love you, But I'm a doomed man." Going out, he met a mulata Carrying water on her head. "If you say you saw me, daughter, You're as good as dead." There are caves up there, and hideouts, And an old fort, falling down. They used to watch for Frenchmen From the hill of Babylon. Below him was the ocean. It reached far up the sky, Flat as a wall, and on it Were freighters passing by, Or climbing the wall, and climbing Till each looked like a fly, And then fell over and vanished; And he knew he was going to die. He could hear the goats baa-baa-ing. He could hear the babies cry; Fluttering kites strained upward; And he knew he was going to die. A buzzard flapped so near him He could see its naked neck. He waved his arms and shouted, "Not yet, my son, not yet!" An Army helicopter Came nosing around and in. He could see two men inside it, but they never spotted him. The soldiers were all over, On all sides of the hill, And right against the skyline A row of them, small and still. Children peeked out of windows, And men in the drink shop swore, And spat a little cachaça At the light cracks in the floor. But the soldiers were nervous, even with tommy guns in hand, And one of them, in a panic, Shot the officer in command. He hit him in three places; The other shots went wild. The soldier had hysterics And sobbed like a little child. The dying man said, "Finish The job we came here for." he committed his soul to God And his sons to the Governor. They ran and got a priest, And he died in hope of Heaven --A man from Pernambuco, The youngest of eleven. They wanted to stop the search, but the Army said, "No, go on," So the soldiers swarmed again Up the hill of Babylon. Rich people in apartments Watched through binoculars As long as the daylight lasted. And all night, under the stars, Micuçú hid in the grasses Or sat in a little tree, Listening for sounds, and staring At the lighthouse out at sea. And the lighthouse stared back at him, til finally it was dawn. He was soaked with dew, and hungry, On the hill of Babylon. The yellow sun was ugly, Like a raw egg on a plate-- Slick from the sea. He cursed it, For he knew it sealed his fate. He saw the long white beaches And people going to swim, With towels and beach umbrellas, But the soldiers were after him. Far, far below, the people Were little colored spots, And the heads of those in swimming Were floating coconuts. He heard the peanut vendor Go peep-peep on his whistle, And the man that sells umbrellas Swinging his watchman's rattle. Women with market baskets Stood on the corners and talked, Then went on their way to market, Gazing up as they walked. The rich with their binoculars Were back again, and many Were standing on the rooftops, Among TV antennae. It was early, eight or eight-thirty. He saw a soldier climb, Looking right at him. He fired, And missed for the last time. He could hear the soldier panting, Though he never got very near. Micuçú dashed for shelter. But he got it, behind the ear. He heard the babies crying Far, far away in his head, And the mongrels barking and barking. Then Micuçú was dead. He had a Taurus revolver, And just the clothes he had on, With two contos in the pockets, On the hill of Babylon. The police and the populace Heaved a sigh of relief, But behind the counter his auntie Wiped her eyes in grief. "We have always been respected. My shop is honest and clean. I loved him, but from a baby Micuçú was mean. "We have always been respected. His sister has a job. Both of us gave him money. Why did he have to rob? "I raised him to be honest, Even here, in Babylon slum." The customers had another, Looking serious and glum. But one of them said to another, When he got outside the door, "He wasn't much of a burglar, He got caught six times--or more." This morning the little soldiers are on Babylon hill again; Their gun barrels and helmets Shine in a gentle rain. Micuçú is buried already. They're after another two, But they say they aren't as dangerous As the poor Micuçú. On the green hills of Rio There grows a fearful stain: The poor who come to Rio And can't go home again. There's the hill of Kerosene, And the hill of the Skeleton, The hill of Astonishment, And the hill of Babylon.
	CAPTCHA Preview Type the characters you see in the picture