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Long America Poems | Long America Poetry

Long America Poems. Below are the most popular long America by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long America poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by Gary Fields | Details |

Will A Divided House Stand In any Land

@one must have lived
on both' sides of
justice to be fully

There are so many
There are oh! So
many plans'
But, in this day of
Can it really
Their are those who
live in the shadow
There are those who
are on top!
Many have faith in
the interest of
I say some-times' it
is merely just a
   ----- Now think
about that ----
Do you live in a
state of justice
Or in a state of
Where your strife is
And pales' beyond
Can you go out at
   ? ...night!
With-out subscribing
of your plight
Hence:  the fear of
going out at night
This reflects' the
type of judgement
That which you

A issue shrouded
in black and white
A deadly combination
of the many social
wrongs' or
         Where the
truth comes' to the
As a human body lay
riddled in the heat
and stench
of the night....
If you are stopped
in a store to-day
Do you expect to
make it home?
Are you subjected
to the night?
Where justice is
swift a constant
     - Only...
To end up at the
business end of

To the end of
contrary to
your life.... 

 Only to be pondered
upon as a
creature in that
laboratory of
Where you your-self
have just payed
The supreme price
from a flash of
That threatens' to
end your life...
Where some-one else
in his unique 
......since of
justice amend to
take your life
(Some-call it a snap
decision only... it
such a snap to take
another life) later
to be call a mishap
in the name of
protecting life
I still say' maybe
we are
acting on a little
bad advice
justifiable murder
In the name of our
Needless too say,
Is this the best

Who's constitution
dare I choose?

Your life
filled full of
With a truth slowly
only God knows'
just exactly
What has just
     .... And the
reason why so many
should die....
Who's brand of
justice would you
survive...  In that
vain' instance
Just to stay
 which do you
care.... to defend?

Would it be
attributed to the
feat of justice 
Or will it be just

Or to the
determination of the
life of just another
Young innocent
man..... Or that
breath of justice
From which he did
truly depend...

To abide and to
trust in....

The accomplishment
of man... Awh! Yes,

The truth depends'
on the end of the
That which is in
your hand..... With
the meter
of justice that we
willing to

That brand of
justice that which
you may call upon
for the sake of your
fellow man!

Gary Fields
Censored in Contrast

Long poem by W. L. Said | Details |


I grew up in Poortown 
A mile down the road 
From hard topped streets 
Where Miss Eleanor lived 
She sat on the front porch 
Smoking ready rolled 
Eating brought on peaches 
And she would hide in back 
When she took a dip of snuff 
She wore nice dresses 
With zippers on the side 
And her stockings both
 Had seams and no holes 
Her shoes were shiny
As a brand new nickel 
Miss Eleanor was not poor 
And she made it a point 
To let everybody know it 
She always had a new 
Cadillac car to drive 
And the sweetest smelling 
French perfume… 
I was just a boy when she 
Called me in her yard one day 
Told me how she watched me 
In my ragged old overalls 
Passing by her gate each day 
She asked me how a boy 
With no visible means 
Could afford to go into town 
Most every day and stay 
From morning till dusk 
She had no understanding 
How life really was in Poortown 
So I told her best I could 
The particulars of my day 
How Pa was sick in bed 
And my Ma had passed away 
I told her I was working for 
For the wealthy folk in town 
For my dinner and to get my Pa 
His medicine he had to have 
It felt as though she had 
A special kind of glass 
That she could use to look 
Right on through my lie 
Made me feel so small and petty 
Then she told me not to go 
Into town anymore 
But to come to her house 
And I would work for her 
I show the next morning 
To a brand new pair of overalls 
And some shiny Brogan shoes 
Not new but unlike any I’d ever had 
She took me to the back yard 
And gave me tasks to do 
I worked as hard as I could 
Just to make a good impression 
Miss Eleanor brought some iced tea 
To the settle in the shade 
Under the old apple tree 
Where we began to talk 
All about life and our lot in it 
I learned from her and she from me 
And when the day was over 
And she paid me from her purse 
For the work I had done 
And not a penny more 
She told me plain that the 
Money I had earned was mine 
And mine alone and if my Pa 
Wanted his “medicine” he’d 
Have to work for his own 
Same as I did for mine 
Years passed by and I grew up 
Miss Eleanor is gone on now 
But she left me all she had 
Which to my surprise wasn’t 
Very much… You see she believed 
That appearances could hide a 
Myriad of deficiencies from 
Prying eyes, but not the heart 
She taught me while appearances 
Were important they meant 
Little in comparison to character 
Honesty and integrity… 
So I sit here on the front porch 
Smoking ready rolled cigarettes 
Enjoying a brought on peach 
Watching the endless parade 
Of poor and destitute young’uns 
I think back to the days 
When I would pass by and 
Imagine the mystery and beauty 
Inside this little stone cottage 
And who Miss Eleanor really was… 
I like to think when she passed away 
That she passed down a little 
Of herself to me…

Long poem by Jesse James Forster | Details |


I remember that day and never looking back
I said goodbye to my family and grabbed my duffel bag
Im off to be a hero just like my grandfather and my dad
Im going to fight for America Im going to become a man 
I will make you all proud by protecting all your dreams
Generations of battles war nerve pumping throughout my veins
Familiar echoing war drum beating inside from my angry heart
No sooner than I am deployed the blood shed and death will start
Nothing could prepare me for the violence I would see
I met death with my first kill, and made a deal with inhumanity
My first experience of occupation I fired at every moving car
The rules of engagement were simple kill everything both near and far
Giving candy to little kids all named Michel Jackson, but not to win hearts
But to use them as human shields against  the enemy insurgent charge
Women and child seperated from their husbands and father
We were lethal shepherds in armor hurding the lambs into the slaughter
Still to this day when I close my eyes their screams become my ghost
Eight months inside the hole, I lost myself, I lost all of my hope
My dreams become a horror for my nightmares have now over filled
And from my cup and my eyes their blood will be poured and spilled
I look at a tattered picture of my own family back at home
But can not smile or remember or I too will come undone
Numb by design, programmed in fear, and not to feel
Compassion has left me alone, I am cold organic steel
Casualties of war are corpses I ran over in the valleys and the fields
Im a killing machine a 1014 an M16 are the swords that I weild
A modern day holocaust ordered to kill anything posing a threat
But when getting fired upon from a crowd its hard to identify a target
Lock and load Little Elvis once again it's time to kill
Weapons forged against us lay in the terrain and hides in the hills
RPG fires into defending walls as bullets fire screaming past my head
Machine gunners leveled that f@@#ing building while my comrades are laying dead
Adrenalin pumping fuels the plans for my next attack
Hot flashes of steel pierces my skin as shrapnel shreds through my flak 
People who were in prayer were no safer from their deaths
Bodies still burning, in pieces, or taking their final breath
Children run through my site with tears inside their innocent stripped eyes
She was no older than ten as she watched her little brother die
Deafened ears fall upon me, blood now is my fate 
Hell is abroad in this desolate God forsaken place 
Soldiers took trophy pictures of their faces with the dead
Who is the enemy I wonder, this doesn't make any sense
The boy who left home to become a man he never did come back
His soul still wanders the Tigris River lost forever to Combat

For all of my fallen friends, heroes, and families. You are always with me and will see you soon

Long poem by Christine Phillips | Details |

Riches to Rags

I have heard of it,
I was in it,
I have imagined it,
But I am yet to experience it.

What is this dream?
Who is this dream for?
Is it a dream for the wealthy and the powerful?
The politicians and the Gangs?
The Cartels and the Mafia?
Drugs and substance abuse?

Is it a dream for organized crime? 
Child molestation,
Sabotage, and hopeless?
What is this dream?

Is it a dream for big cars?
Credit card debts?
 Foreclosed home? 
And joblessness?
Is it a dream for freedom and justice?
Inequality and racisms?
Or is it a dream for peace, unity, love and compassion?

Some people have been dreaming too long,
 And it’s time to wake up to reality?
Everyday hundreds of people are killed in the streets of America,
Children are murdered in the schools
Businesses are robbed,
And illegal schools, and colleges are established on a daily basis,
Innocent people get hurt every second
And the security system is tainted with bribery and corruption
What is this dream?
Rags to riches or riches to rag?

Aunt Mary is a successful doctor;
She left her beautiful home by the beach;
She resigned a good paying job; 
She leaves her husband, and children
 behind in search of the American dream 
But she ended up in a rat infested brown stone, 
apartment in lower Manhattan. 
She works three jobs,
 flipping burger and scrubbing floors to make ends meet,
 And at the end of the month she can barely pay the rent,
 She cannot eat a proper meal
 she has to pay it back to the American dream.

My ink has been dried up for many years,
The weather was perhaps too cold for my ink to flow,
I have resorted to the computer 
but the keys were frozen too.
What on earth had gone wrong?
I might have been in America too long
My creativity was put on hold 
 because I was too busy trying to achieve my dreamless goals

Everyday thousands of people from across the globe
 landed on the shores of America;
Thousands of people have lost their lives
 in sunken boats, and extended journey across desserts
 some people have spent months travelling from country to country
 with the hope of reaching America 
only to be subjected to the materialistic dream.
A dream that will one day reduce them to nothing,
A dream that will make them work night and day,
A dream that will cause them earn their bread the hardest way.

Somewhere along the road
 the real essence of this dream has been destroyed
 And new meaning has been added to i.,
What happen to the ideals of America?
Where is the success and upward mobility?
Where is the fuller,
 and better life that everyone anticipated?

Can we still achieve prosperity and success?
Does this dream exist at all?
Is it a dream for some?
 Or is it a dream for all?
Open your eyes and recapture the American dream.

               ©2013 Christine Phillips

Long poem by Shanity Rain | Details |

young American days

                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 



Long poem by James Fraser | Details |

Hiroshima, Theodore Van Kirk, RIP

On that day in Aug 45 Bomber over the city that's very much alive Nervous crew, cloudy day Pilots instructions, open bomb bay The words above as the pilot has said What happens next the World dreads The catch releases as Little Boy goes Are they really enemies, are they really foes As he lands without a sound As he plummets into Japanese ground As he ignites his awesome power As he sprays his atomic shower An eternity clears, in hours I hear No City which once was here Where are the people, no where near In Oppenheimer do I detect a tear If that's the worst The USA tells Nagasaki is next as the death toll swells Lo and behold that day has come The second city is indeed gunned down This Uranium gem as the Yanks declared Our troops at war will all be spared Not to think of these Japanese folks Who in Atomic ruin their lives now soaked Buildings gone where they once were Populations vaporised without a care This Mushroom shape will shadow ever Their day in History will never sever The following day as I look around A bustling city which has no sound I stand here bleeding, burns and sores Skin dripping family torn All around me, broken burning shapes Trying to make sense of what this all makes What could have created such destruction as this On this City where yesterday was bliss As I limp down my street in an imaged spree Shadows of neighbours I will never see Silhouetted in shape in many forms Is this my World, it's not the norm Weeks have passed as I start to feel ill Once I was ten, now I feel nil Body sored, lacerations and boils This human life entering it's toil As I look to the sky some birds still soar Those lovely doves I will see no more As my life fades as my eyes gently close Should anyone receive those blows Now I'm gone as I look down, once a city, no more a town Where once were dots all running around Most are gone blown from our ground Where mediation was never met, discussions were never said Two cities many dead ( Lyrics by Queen ) Teo torriatte konomama iko Aisuruhito yo Shizukana yoi nir Hikario tomoshi Itoshiki oshieo idaki Let us cling together as the years go by Oh my love, my love In the quiet of the night Let our candle always burn Let us never lose the lessons we have learned Are our lessons learnt, time will tell Berlin Wall, barriers fell Is it a start, or a start to come Is this race always on the run We need to look, and look around No more we hear that whistling sound It seems to be a more silent kill Typical Human, in it's typical will Reposted in memory of 'Theodore Van Kirk' the last of the 'Enola Gay' ..

Long poem by louise nelson | Details | . You can read it on' st_url='' st_title='I Don't Know About you America But I feel Like A Whore'>

I Don't Know About you America But I feel Like A Whore

I don't know about you America but I feel like a whore
when the Bush Administration wants to give me a $300 score
how many of our young men and women in Iraq will have to die
before they will admit that this war is one big fat lie?
how many more will be in foreclosure and become homeless
before the government realizes this a problem they need to address?
I'm beginning to suspect that 9/11 was a secret government conspiracy
so that Bush could justify an invasion in the interest of national security
where are the weapons of mass destruction they were so desperate to destroy?
It seems like taking the Iraqi oil fields was the only reason troops were deployed

I don't know about you America but I feel like a whore
while the Bush Administration runs out the White House doors
and like a good trick when he's done he leaves money on the table
then has the nerve to tell me to spend so the economy may become more stable
the corporations have sold us out and with the Chinese we're now in bed
more Chinese goods in America even some with paint containing lead
we used to be a country that thrived on production
now all we do is go to war and cause global destruction
the dollar is in the toilet and not worth the paper on which it is made
could it be because we're at a deficiency in international trade?
the Bush Administration has us again in debt to the tune of trillions
yet how is it that Republicans are still raking in the millions?

I don't know about you America but I feel like a whore
when the biggest John leaves us broken, bitter and sore
the Secretary of State believes the propaganda that's she spinning
the Joint Chief of Staff insists this war we are winning
but all we've done is cause chaos and confusion
It seems like America is the problem and not the solution
how many more soldiers will return disabled and lame
before the Bush Administration assumes any of the blame?
they talk in a manner that's most condescending
yet fail to remember that it's OUR tax dollars they're freely spending
let's not mention those "Hanging Chads"
we all knew brother Jeb had the election in the bag

we use one country against another to further our objectives
and when push comes to shove we drop them when there's nothing left to give
after Afghanistan and they way they dealt with bin Laden
why are they surprised that towards us his heart is now harden?
I don't know about you America but I feel like I've been betrayed
at least in the Clinton Administration only Monica got played

this poem took me 10 angry minutes to write

Long poem by S.K. Y. | Details |

Ideological War of the Worlds

 The coming times can unfold,
far accross to all lands,
the casting shadow has fallen,
with it's far reaching hands,
accross our four cornered world,,
 Humanity progressed to progressive sufferage,
that comes with many names,
the ideology won without a shot,
convinced populations into guilted shame,
lost are voices of courage,,
 The warring world will arise,
between makers and takers,
parasitic ideology's green eyed mind,
re-writing regulations by progressive thinkers,
big brother's utopian great enterprise,,
 Dependent we all become, parasitically,
even forced fed into submission,
by governmental state so enlarged,
numbered you are by institution,
nothing owned, only redistributed cynically,,
 Paupers suffer under progressive fortitude,
soulless programs of living propaganda,
your worth, what you produce,
socialized into this living agenda,
living taxed products of servitude,
           , and then...
 The rise will come independent,
carrying courage and freedom proudly,
with wisdoms weapon in hand,
knowledge in the other soundly,
honor reclaimed by the sentient,,
 Independent declarations germinating from seed,
feared by any progressive regime,
warriors in freedom stand tall,
threatened is the progressive dream,
renewing freedoms that will breed,,
 The liberty that spawned revolution, 
alive from all moral conceptions,
viewed as evil that's progressive,
feared are soulless seeking redemption,
the light of liberty's salvation,,
 Beating freedoms of sentient heart,
the salvation of fighting worth,
a force greater than any darkness,
warriors of liberty step forth,
champions of honor that impart,,
     , next, the final chapter of...
 Ideological war of the worlds,
eye to eye never seen,
the hatred between clearly drawn,
problems with peace to intervene,
the conflict as it unfolds,,
 Coming as thieves of night,
armys on both sides  comes,
fortifying and building societial walls,
truth and lies propaganda welcomes,
armored suited masses to fight,,
 Emerges the lights of honor,
the independent class called defenders,
private elites of character gold,
the shadows behind all pretenders,
opperatives that's far more superior,,
 Defenders are warriors of light,
core beliefs that's solely independent,
religiously organized they never follow,
thorns in a crowned tyrant,
independent wills of great might,,
 They are why freedom thrives,
true leaders leading into tomorrow,
that govern by liberty's will
that invites everyone to follow,
founding fathers of our lives..

Long poem by Latosha Mitchell | Details |

Who Cares

Since when did people not care anymore?
Sure, their were some
Unseen or barely there
But now people all over just don't care
How they dress,
How they talk,
What they do
To themselves or to you
Fashion has become a disaster
Modeled by unqualified idiots
Which I can't understand
Because it's not that hard to master
I walk around this prison playground
And watch all the immature thugs
With their pants hanging down
Showing their dingy boxers
Playing with their tricks
Who's only after a good d**k
That's probably been through so many neighborhood bushes
It's going to take more than douches
To clean the nasty infection
Left from his erection
But these girls these days
Don't know about early detection
There are so many walking diseases
You have the "Pist. .. ", and the "hey ma" diseases
And the well known, "Yo shorty" disease
You have to watch out for
I can't take it anymore
Feel like I need to get out of town
But they're everywhere like the green grass
That grows all around, all around
Of which they smoke
And blow in my face and
All around and around
These inconsiderate fiends
Hang on the corners
And cause scenes
Up to no good
With no hopes of a better way
Because they're quote, “from the hood”
That's the same excuse June Bug used last week
The day before he was shot
But his brother just graduated college
And no one cares how far he's got
Because people are lazy
And are not trying to get up out the hood
Who cares about an education?
But hell
Why should they?
When ignorance is sweeping the nation
I mean, since when did tweeted
Become the past tense of twitter?
I hate to sound bitter
But look
Between that and Facebook
We have new generation geniuses
At least they think they are
Because they keep daily reports/ autobiographies,
(Like who cares),
On these sites
And now they think they can write
I.D.K. what's going on,
Even though some entries make me want to L. O. L
It's no longer funny when kids grow up
Thinking that's really how you spell.
But this is what the world's coming to
No one cares
More and more people crying
Because there's more and more people dying
I'm constantly asking why and
I don't know why
Because no one hears me
So I try and I try
To make sense of it all
But there's no sense
In nonsense
And nothing will change
If all I have is ten cents
Due to the damn recession
But still money talks
And the more you have
The louder your voice is
So can someone please spare some change
To help me deliver this message"!

Long poem by Craig S Bury | Details |

Fallacy, Misinformation and Contradiction

Society is rife with statements of misinformation, fallacy and contradiction
To say otherwise would be to argue that our settlement was a pleasant eviction
If you are to believe what is in the following first lines
Then perhaps you are gullible enough to believe the proceeding lines

Our new industrial relations laws are reasonable and fair
A Buddhist monk has a full head of hair
The United States of America is rational and just
If you want curly hair just eat your crust

The Queen is a popular and influential head of state
Quite often at prisons they leave open the front gate
The Good and Services Tax won’t complicate life
It is legal and admirable to have more than one wife

We have an obligation to follow America and Great Britain to war
You will get piles sitting on a cold concrete floor
Ladies and gentlemen the honourable Mr Howard
A bully is not a coward

There are Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq
No one has ever died after being bitten by a shark
The brightness of light in the total dark
A grassless, treeless, concrete park

Religion is not dogmatic
Working for the man is not problematic
Education will be free and available to all
Always a baby walks first then learns to crawl
A midget or dwarf is extremely tall
I tried marijuana but did not inhale
The Japanese have no interest in hunting whale
Indigenous people are being treated better
Not one convict has ever been an Australian settler

Julia Gillard can’t be Prime Minister as she hasn’t had a child
An Australian summer is rather mild
Climate change is a beaten up issue
Blow your nose with sandpaper rather than a tissue

Our troops will be home soon
Winter begins in April not June
By the year 2000 we would have landed at least a second time on the moon
Four o’clock is the new noon

The person at the head of the queue will be served next
Shane Warne doesn’t know how to text
All we need is a few weeks of solid rain
If you break a bone you’ll feel no pain

Anyone in society has a fair and fighting chance to win
Look up and you can see a flightless flying penguin
Bush does not influence Howard a decision is his own
Fast Food outlets only use foods that are organically grown

The War in Iraq is not about oil
Heating water won’t cause it to boil 
It could not have be handled any better concerning David Hicks
Magic is real it contains no illusions or tricks

The aim of this verse was to have a laugh and be reflective
I hope it puts the things people say into perspective

Long Poems