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Name Age Poems | Age Poems About Name

These Name Age poems are examples of Age poems about Name. These are the best examples of Name Age poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Haiku |

No Chain, No Charm

In Unison-
~No Chain, No Charm~

United we own
Firm, full of finest goodies-
Our ground of freedom.


United we stand
Firm from failure and horror-
On the ground of strength.

United we pray
Faithfully with open mind-
Our bliss is assured.


Details | Ballad |

Body Language

What is it about me that gives you the impression that I am just your average
sleazy, easy, breezy, from the hood who can't possibly get ahead in life unless 
you are by my side.???

Is there a note written across my forehead that reads:
"Warning,
do not respect 
always neglect and,
never expect any goodness from this creature unless
legs are open and ready for business?

Does my azz have a "grab me" sign stuck to it
or is that what you would allow a strange man to do
to your daughter 
to squeeze your mothers breast or are
the words "touch me" tattooed 
across my chest?

Do my eyes unconsciously tell you to come over and try to slowly 
slide down my panties 
with your,
ridiculous lies 
heard too many times
from too many guys
who've more than once tried
to get in between 
or better yet inside
my thighs.?

 Don't get me wrong, I'm being so sincere 
I  just wanna make it clear that
there is something that you hear
if my body tells you action like the movie genre
or do I look different in every scene like a world 
premiere.?

Is bich my name in another language or,
do you see hoe somewhere on my birth certificate?
Am I not worth more than a single letter?...Ay!
or did I somehow give birth to you? Ay Ma!
Do my features confuse you or would you really prefer
a man...."Man".

How can my body speak a language that I have yet to hear?
Well before you get the wrong idea, let me make this clear.

When my azz say "grab me", that really just a lie
If my eyes say "come here" they really mean goodbye
Don't guess my name just ask and I'll let you know
and whatever my forehead region reads is just a bad typo.

It should go something like.... Always respect, never neglect, and only expect 
greatness from this Queen no matter what her pulchritude screams. 
The media degrades her as society points its finger and laughes 
all the while she's searching for your support
the support 
of her father
brother,
her son,
lover.
Why? Because she is yours....
Your mother,
Your Daughter,
Your sister, and 
Your Lover.
So...why not?
Love her, 
Honor her, 
See her for who she really is and
not for what her body says.


Details | Free verse |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail


Details | I do not know? |

Stop

This is my first slam poem. 

In this society, in this world, in this day. 
We say, we separate, all based on what others think. 
We see that girl who looks like a guy, 
Or that boy in touch with his feminine side..
And we view them badly, treat them terribly. 
We shun them from their own society. 
There's the black kid, the white kid, the Mexican, the Asian.. 
& we focus on nothing more than the tone of their skin. 
Hating and discriminating, all we're doing is separating. 
We point and laugh, cuz that's boy's too fat. 
We talk a lot of shit, like her clothes don't fit, then laugh a little bit. 
In this day and time, who you worship determines if you're good, bad, wonderful, terrible.
But when we shake our heads, it's hypocritical. 
Cuz all that's going on is separation.
We go behind a persons back and rub their name in the dirt, 
He's a player, she got jumped, he's a liar, she's a whore..
& Make their name something to laugh at & Nothing more. 
All to fit in, to be liked. 
But, did we ever stop to think about those gay kids who need love just like us? About the fact Martin Luther King Junior was shot years ago, but from segregation, he saved us? About those kids just looking for a way to express themselves? About the person who's lost in life, just looking for a savior? Or the one who has his suicide planned out, cuz he's just so sick of holding on? 
We never stopped to think, and at this rate we aren't going too until it's too late. 
So, change. 
Stop shunning that gay kid.
Stop denying that kid of a different race.
Stop messing with that kids image.
Stop judging ones religion. 
Stop spreading and starting rumors. 
Just stop, and open your eyes.


Details | I do not know? |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)



Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:



Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.


He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.


After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.


In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.


Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.


He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.


Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.


On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.


Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.


His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.


In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.


On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:


‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’



Mahlangu died for a cause!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)


Details | Bio |

Outside looking In

Im going to tell you a story about a girl.
She was smart, and ready to take on the world.
Had a hard childhood with her mother always ill,
but her father worked hard and struggled to pay the bills.
My name is Pam and the poem your about to read,
Is a interesting poem, all about me.
I started to feel depression and pain,
at the age of 15 I was snorting cocaine.
I got pregnant at a young age and wanted to explore,
So I walked right out of my families door.
Time went on and I was still not around,
My mom grew sicker and dad wearing a frown.
Not much longer until I experienced this change,
and tragic horrible hurt and feeling of pain.
I walked in that room ,and climbed in the bed
I layed down beside him, and layed down my head.
With my hear I could hear his heartbeat.
The next thing I new we were burying him six feet deep.
At the funeral they said she was in a better place,
but it just wasnt fair to see that look on her face.
My mom that is she died with my dad,
She may have been breathing but always so sad
Two years later she decided to give up,
her faith was gone and hope for luck up.
Thats when I really started to struggle,
barely getting by and forgetting that i was mother.
She seen me drift into a dark place,
I started loosing weight in my stomach and my face.
Before I new it I was always getting high,
Weeks became months, and time flew right by
Its to bad that I chose this new path I was on ,
Because on August 11Th I got a call saying my mother was gone.
Like a replay I walked into that room,
to see her lying there as stiff as a broom.
I layed down beside her and rubbed my fingers
through her hair , but the pain I was feeling I just couldn't bare.
You would think after loosing my mom and my dad,
Anything else wouldnt seem near as bad
Within four years I had nothing left,
My child was taken for my foolish regrets.
Just me and my addiction no more tears to cry,
so many different ways that I could get high.
I would like to introduce this powerful drug,
It bring nothing but bad when I was searching for love.
The name is crystal, Crystal Meth
The one thing in the world, I wish I had never met...


Details | Free verse |

Bladder Problems in Class

Numbers on 
White board…names written hori-
zontally

Students ask
To go pee…right when class starts – 
THAT’S just wrong…

Bathroom line
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!

People are
Not using lunchtime to do 
Their business 

No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
IOUSLY?


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) |

My Dad

My Dad was Chicagoan.
He would light up a room just like my Mom. 
He loved to fish ! He loved his beer .
He also designed a Octagon home in the 70's 
Built custom by hand . I was very proud of Dad .

Alcohol hit our Family , a curse .
He left my Mom when I was 14 in Illinois.
To renew in California , leaving a trail of tears .
Meeting my step mom , my sisters age .
My 2 sisters they were accepted in her world . 

Not I , I looked too much Like Mom . Told this all my Life . 
She a petite Beauty , RN , real estate Broker .
I did not see why it was wrong to be like mom ?

I moved in with Dad, His new Wife , and 2 sisters 
eventually . All three women were competing for my Father .
I was kicked out at 16 yrs.

Years do pass , you try and accept people places and things .
At the end of Dads life , he was calling me once a week .
I ordered a Engraved Clock for the Fathers day coming.
This was a issue for the Wife and sisters , never invited to his new home , 2 Decades ~My little Brother & I , never wanted .

Dad passed suddenly one sad Spring Day . Not one word from his wife , all 3rd party,  how and when,  Dad Died . being denied the right to his address , even to say goodbye .
Not being able to send my engraved clock . 

 "Dad Passed " received call  from sister whom just stayed a week with me ,  I took her all around the sites here . "1st day I get call , you should come , 2nd Day after , Dad's been cremated already . " It was a lie.

I went anyway , finding the funeral home, the Funeral Director was appalled at the denial displayed.

He insisted I was given 10 minutes alone with Dad , my Birthright to say Goodbye , he was in dismay over the Hostility towards a daughter ~

I get to this room of mean relative's. His sisters , Mine, angry looks , hearing from a Aunt "What is she doing Here ! " I can't give nor reason or rhyme. 

 Shame to you and all that participated that wicked day.
 Are you Glorified with Power?  Denied the right to grieve , 

 Left with no sane answers to give in hatred received by Blood . Some , just Spouses , telling me I had no right to Say Goodbye to my own Father , My DAD .

My Dad wanted me there , I know he did . I love Him and will never forget , his youngest girl whom looked like Mom . I know in my heart and dreams he speaks. 
 We all see when we leave . May God not allow any Son or Daughter to go through such Evil.

Thank-you Poetry Soup for returning my voice .


Details | I do not know? |

WHO AM I BY NAME ALONE

written 10th Aug 2013



I am God's child, first and forever
I am known by many different titles, a daughter
I am a wife
I am a mother
I am a grandmother
I am a poet
I am by several ways, known as a sister
I am an acquaintance
I am a loyal friend
I am a stranger
I am a cousin
I am an Auntie
I am a niece
But who is this person, they all call "Denise?"

She is a child to God
She is a niece
She is a cousin
She is a stranger
She is a loyal friend
She is an acquaintance
She is known to many, a sister
She is a poet
She is a grandmother
She is a mother
She is a wife
She is known as a daughter to many
She is everything, she'd ever dreamed her life to be....
She is happier than she ever imagined possible
SHE IS "DENISE"


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) |

ALL IN THE NAME OF POWER

To learn it, somebody had to do it.
When manifested by God, it is insight into the future.
Therefore…
Who did it to the universe?
Who did it to the world?
Who did it to the people on Earth, all in the name of power?
Sex pornogrifies
Drugs defames
Playboy industry
Rogues’ domain
Somebody had to do it.
This is only way it can be learned.
God’s manifestations enlighten.
Who did it to the universe?
Who did it to the world?
Who did it to the people on Earth, all in the name, which is righteous?
Money made
Greed defined
Crime scene
In where you fit in
Henceforth…
Do it to the universe.
Do it to the world.
Do it to the people on planet Earth.
Do it all in the name of power!
_______________________________|
PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 26, 2014!


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