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April Narrative Poems | Narrative Poems About April

These April Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about April. These are the best examples of April Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Narrative |

World Economic Report, April, 2012

Fear feasts on our insides
And wrecks decision-making
Evil jumps in with glee
And another one loses trust

And another one down
And another one down
And another one loses trust

Evil grins
At what might have been
As another one loses trust

Housing fails
Markets, too
And countries follow suit

“Be afraid
Be very afraid”
Used to be a joke
But now it’s the match
That lights the glint
In Evil’s eye

Every day we’re fed
Too much detailed
 information
- Perhaps true;
Perhaps not -
With stated directives
To be
Very
Afraid


As Evil laughs
And Fear cavorts
Through our souls

With another one down
And another one down 
And another one loses trust

I will myself to turn off the media
Not to ignore the warnings;
But to avoid overexposure
To the cancer-causing
Smoking gun
Of fear




According to Article 37, Section 202 of the Code of Federal Regulation, the Congress states that “words and short phrases such as names, titles, and slogans; familiar symbols or designs; mere variations of typographic ornamentation, lettering or coloring; mere listing of ingredients or contents” are not copyrightable.
So thanks to John Deacon of Queen…


Details | Narrative |

My first poetry reading in public

My first poetry reading on April 15, 2011 at Café Jolesch in Zittau

This evening I read the first five of my poems before an audience in the beautiful Art
Nouveau atmosphere of Café Jolesch under the direction of Karin Kayser and Rolf Monitor in
the context of the "Open Stage" for the 3rd Lusatian Culture Night. I waited for my first
appearance with a good Czech Svijani fresh draft beer. On the small stage were already
loudspeakers,  microphones and musical instruments installed. From 8 pm on the room filled
with visitors. A live band playing rock music and blues and a young woman performed a
belly dance. All the tables were now occupied, and I cleared my place for some students,
listening to the sounds from the bar and watched the dance. There was much applause and
some young people shot photos with their cell phones. Then I was announced by Rolf
Monitor, stepped to the stage and read my five poems for the first time in public. It was
quiet in the room and all listened to me and when I had finished, came rapturous applause.
Rolf Monitor asked me if I could not read more of my poems, but I was only prepared to
read five. I promised to repeat my reading with more poems next time. 


Note: The Lusatian Culture Night is a yearly event in April from 7 pm till midnight with
different performances, exhibits and other events. Café Jolesch is a pub  in the so called
Hiller Villa. 
The villa was built at end of the 19th Century. It was for decades the home of the Jewish
Hiller family. Gustav Hiller, an inventor from Großschönau, using the proceeds from his
first patent, a machine for manufacturing curtain strings, founded Zittau's Phänomenwerke.
They were known in GDR times as VEB Robur Works Zittau, in which bicycles of the brand
Phänomen, the  Phänomobile and later the Robur truck were produced. During the Nazi rule,
Mrs. Hiller, could be bought off for an annual payment of 300,000 Reichsmark from
deportation. After the war the family moved into the West Zone. Today  the Villa Hiller is
home for the Multicultural Center (MUK), a nonprofit organization. In 1993, the
granddaughters of Gustav Hiller, Mrs Anne Frommann and Mrs Claudia Siede-Hiller, now
living in Israel, donated the villa to the MUK. The ground floor houses the Café Jolesch.


Details | Narrative |

April 15, 2013


They say that the only sure things
Are death and taxes

After gathering information and a bit of math practice and
carefully filling out the forms
And sending them in to various governments:
Federal, State, and Local;

After gathering resources and a lot of running practice
And carefully filling out the registration forms
And sending them in
For the Boston Marathon -

Who knew 
The end of the race would really be
The End of the Race?

Crowds cheered
As the runners crossed the finish line

And a few crossed over
No doubt, to cheering crowds of angels
And loved ones long past

This is fresh news; and no one knows
Who planted the bombs
Or why

They say that the only sure things
Are death and taxes

Who knew they’d both fall on the same day?


Details | Narrative |

Gates Of Hell April 19 2010

Insanity is the essance, 
that helps define my identity.
Open the flood gates to h*ll,
for a little peak into my reality.

Tortured by the vivid dreams,
racing through my mind.
Stuck in a trance, frozen in fear,
I feel so left behind.

Locked down with metal shoes,
chained against the wall.
Nowhere to turn, no options to take,
my turn to take the fall.

I look down there's nothing there,
but the fiery pits of hell.
The flames so bright they are blinding me,
as I hide behind my exterior shell.

Protected only for a moments peace,
to put my mind at rest.
Accepting that this is it for me,
I have definatly been put to the test.

A small glimps into my file,
tell me, "What do you see?"
Insanity, anger, sorrow and pain,
the true depths of me.


Details | Narrative |

TITANIC VISION - This was my fourth poem written in April 1998 - Rhyming

The great one glides to her ultimate destiny

Soon to etch in time an infamous legacy

All souls aboard not knowing their fate

An iceberg ahead,

just lying in wait

This huge ship of iron,

cutting so easily through a wave

About to send so many to a watery grave

Dozens of safe crossings by it Captain so proud

Confidence buoyed by calm seas,

and nary a cloud

Little children run and play on her gigantic deck

The Lord knowing for some,

their parent's last trek

Young lovers,

completely oblivious of the future

Set plans for America,

and offspring they'll nurture

Yet this massive ocean,

Earth's giver of life

Can be so unforgiving,

making widows of many a wife

The rich and the poor,

standing shoulder to shoulder

Going down with Titanic,

never to grow older

As loved ones in life boats,                    

hear those horrible cries

They are doomed to relive them,                  

for the rest of their lives

Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved

"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."

© 2014 Robert William Gruhn