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Long Technology Poems | Long Technology Poetry

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

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Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

The Cascade Adventures - Part 1

It's been four years since I've seen so much as an insignificant mountain creek. Been overburdened with comfort, now frantic with nature withdrawals, having to settle for photos found on Google Images: emerald pine trees, blue jays on limbs, moonlight cutting through forests, lakes the color of Windex-ed glass. It's much like drinking water that's been doused with Crystal Light... you may feel yourself becoming hydrated, when it reality it's only satiating your thirst temporarily. So you can imagine my joy when my best friend called me up to break the news.

"Monica, Brandon, Joel and I are gonna go backpacking. Care to join?"

the finality
of a cell hitting the floor -
shoe tying

Like a bunch of sardines packed in a can on wheels, we headed out to beautiful Cascade: the place where the Idahoan mountains aren't just paintings from afar, but close enough to taste. We weave our way through the spider-like dirt trails, as we each take turns changing songs on Joel's iPod. It's my go and I'm searching through the John Denver list, mourning the fact that there's over a hundred songs by him, and not one of them is Colorado Rocky Mountain High (the one song I could say fit my feelings to a tee). The menagerie of everyone's taste in music made for an interesting trip no doubt - even if Jonathan picked the worst possible jams simply for annoyances sake.

My first peculiar observation:

Humans have been making calendars for thousands of years (the first being more akin to cave drawings and stone tablets than paper). But as long as all that has been going on, the mountains don't care that August is expected to be sultry as November is expected to be chilly. Cause June took her first baby steps with a stubborn December mindset - a meandering way to say it was cold enough to freeze your nads off. The mounds of five feet snow made it all the more comical the fact I was wearing plaid shorts. Mother Nature wasn't going to be kind, I could tell.

like turtles
struggling to stand -
our packs full of crockery

It was breezy at first. We would practically glide down the mountain side, using our backpacks as a counter balance. The snowy counterpart to kangaroos, we were. The glistening flakes were thick enough to snowboard down - granted I never touched a snowboard, let alone ridden one. But after seeing this it gives me ideas...

Monica smiled for the camera, as I fumbled for my iPhone, a smile that didn't even require the forcible Say Cheese! nonsense. It wasn't waiting for the camera flash, but the other way around. Now you might be calling that rather pathetic, but I brought my iPhone along simply for the function of capturing memories. Angry Birds just don't compare to the real ones, sweet with lilting songs.

My second peculiar observation:

Google Images is an absolute horrid plagiarist; some beauty just can't be encapsulated despite all our advances in high-def technology.

The downward slope finally leveled out a bit, if only for a few minutes. Truth be told the path never stopped declining - some routes were simply more apparent than others. Our group of five walked single file through the trees, all basing our faith that Joel (a person who has been to the site once when the trail WASN'T covered in snow) would lead us in the right direction. And here's another interesting fact; this was no official trail, but a hike through the purest of adventures, unpredictable and unreliable.

crushing pine needles
with un-gloved fingers -
roaring rivers beneath the snow

The first time my whole leg collapsed into the fragile surface of the snow made me realize just how far above the dirt I was walking. I'd ask Brandon for assistance with a beet red blush on my cheeks - I blamed it on my fair skin falling victim to the sunny day. From then out I tiptoed with exaggerated caution, my heavy pack helping me just as much as it was hindering me. For even a foot drop had to be taken with a grain of salt. Everyone had to adjust to the added weight (except for Monica, with her light load of a sleeping bag, nothing else). I'd very ungracefully glide through twigs and pesky low branches, oblivious of my bare legs. In all honesty the cold didn't get to me, just the scratches of neighboring trees is where my concerns lied. At anytime I could have stopped the whole gang, beaming, "Wait a spell and let me put on some pants for crying out loud". Course that never happened, my clothes were in the bottom of my pack, and I was no where near desperate enough for monkeying around with that sorry mess.

slick slates
slanting down the cliff edge -
helping hands

Joel, with his redneck stubble, beams up at me, "Every hiking trip needs a little bit of adventure, don't rush it by any means!". That's the last thing on my mind - the first is whether or not that rock I'm about to put my weight on is as stable as she looks. It's a very roundabout route, and as questionable as it is, it's safer by a long shot than the first path we took - call it a 103 degree wall.



NOTE: Still working on writing out the rest of my trip to Cascade. It was my first backpacking trip and even though we only stayed one night, the trip is full of wonderful memories.


Long poem by Dylan Manassian | Details |

the battles the world has seen

the bombs 
the guns 
the blood shed
no humanity done
all is lost
under the strick and pain
of all the bombs 
every day 
WW1 WW2 
the Cold War 
nothing is new
death for nothing
revolution you say 
killing hundred of lives
all for ones pay
for one to step down
or die in vein
why should we kill hundreds
for just ones gain
WW2 
histories view
just blood in the book
too much for me
how about you?
more lives lost there then any time in history
D Day was the grave
for many people who fought away
we didint learn
we continue this mistake
we kill for our country
and then we go pray
thinking God will bless me
with bullets and steel
while God told me to love all
not put shells in you
not all injuries are deep 
some are mental week
PTSD and many things
my presentation is explaining
how the war isn't for those who died
and how it affect the kids and other wise
families are devastated
kids with no dads
imagine a life 
were you go home
only find the mom
and sometimes go to your dads tomb stone
all for the sack of the country
who is well of living on its supplies  and many thing 
or imagine going home
here your mom cry
wondering why 
until you read the letter
that your dad died
or gone missing under the wind
were your supposed to know the troops
but some just vanish again
thousand were never found
in the past few years
ofcorse they are dead
but some keep praying still
look at the war and look at the fight 
not every is killed on sight
some come back home
trying to live there lifes
but then the drugs kick in
and many other lies
the lies they said out there
" dont worry you will be fine"
the man who said that died a few seconds later
sniper shot him in the eye
you think war is a joke
or something to laugh about
imagine this
think aloud
if you come home
your dads on morphine 
trying to hide from the noise
you think it is nothing
but to him it reminds him of his past
the battles he faces 
the friends he made
and the one vanished with out a trace 
or the once who died in his face
the once he had to carry away
the funeral he had to pray 
and the people who tried helping him escape 
the war is more then a game
it more of a death sentences
once you go
it is hard to get back
really hard 
more then you think
with PTSD and bipolar disease 
and many other injuries
once you go to war
you wont be the same
you will see things
that are inhuman
bodies all over
blood is spilled
and the many people missing
the ones even you knew 
you dont understand me 
let me explain
the people who are fighting out there
wont come back the same
they will be changed
mental and physically
they will see true people
who will go insane
the people at war see many things
some not even for my age
code orange, Stalingrad , D Day
Cold War , war in the north and other out of my reach
what they did was horrible 
what both sides did to their men
 the russians killed their own troops
if they are trying to run back
germans slaughter the jews
the americans just nuked 
japanies and their kamikazes 
now lets come today 
to now a day war
the technology is so unreal
it isnt worth righting for 
what they did now a days was worse then before
code orange is one good example
there are many more 
the death of many for the few
it isn't only the soldiers it is the kids to
the families being hit
the parents that die
and the kids have to run for their lives 
PTSD is one symptom that never dies
it stays in the hearts and in the mind
it hurt the people
when the war isnt even alive
it kills them slowly
mentality is going
PTSD has a history
let me explain it to thee
 it is when your traumatized
cause by war, airplane crash rape and bombing in the state
they fear the sounds of loud 
they sometimes fear the sight of death
they fear the sound of pain
and they fear guns and other stuff
it started back in the day 


Long poem by Andrea Dietrich | Details |

A Doggy Afternoon

Narrator:  I take you now inside the mind of a ten year old miniature Eskimo dog who
 lives happily inside a Rambler house with a fenced back yard that serves as his special 
area to periodically run freely when his “favorite person”(Love) puts him out, always 
shouting “go pee!” to him. Strangely, Ollyver does not really seem to understand that 
command. Perhaps to him it means “go play” since often he is later caught inside the 
house in compromising positions, causing his owner to rush him again to the door to 
the back yard!

Furthermore, new computer technology has enabled Ollyver’s owner (his “Love”) 
to come up with a crude translation for Ollyver’s stream of thoughts. She knows his behavior the best, but still she must guess at a few things inside his brain due to his limited range of vocabulary and his typical doggy unconcern with that ! So now she has just let Ollyver out the back porch to go pee. . . 

Ollyver:  I go out! I go out! Run run run . . . Run here. . . Run there. . . Strange man 
by fence. . .  I can’t get to strange man. What you doing by my yard? Leave here leave here leave here. . .  yip yip yip yip yip yip yip. . . . .

Owner’s voice from the porch: Go pee, Ollyver!!!

Ollyver:  always “go pee” she say. . . Look look at me. . . I go pee . . . run here . . . 
run there. . . (Ollyver continues running back and forth yelping at the stranger who 
has since gotten past the fence as he walks along the canal road) I go pee I go pee. . . 

Narrator: Ollyver runs back to the house, never having actually gone pee. He runs to 
sit by his owner, whom he perceives as his favorite human. She is eating a bowl of ice 
cream on the bed. 

Ollyver:  I go in. . . see  yum-yum milk. . . I want I want I want 

Narrator: Ollyver goes toward the bowl and gets pushed away, so he stares with big 
anxious eyes going back and forth to Love and the bowl of yum-yum. 

Ollyver: I want I want I want. . . Give me give me give me. . . Ohhhhh. . .  Yum-yum  
getting smaller and smaller. . . Ohhhhhhhhh

Narrator:  Ollyver’s Love pats his head and lets him lick what remains at the bottom of the bowl. After he finishes, he snuggles by Love and beings to lick her hand and arm.

Ollyver: kiss kiss kiss kiss. . . Love Love Love

Narrator: Suddenly the door bell rings, and he dashes off the bed to the front door 
with his Love following behind him, yelling: “No Ollyver!” He peers through the window and sees a stranger.

Ollyver:  yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yip go away strange lady go away strange lady 
go away strange lady yip yip yip yip yip yip yip. . .. 

Narrator:  The door bell rings again and Ollyver runs to his favorite corner of the family 
room, where he begins to do the very thing his owner had wanted him to do previously 
when she let him out into the back yard. Her voice yells shrilly “No, Ollyver” and she 
shoves him to the back door saying: “OUT here, Ollyver. Go pee out HERE.”  Ollyver 
then runs across the yard going back and forth, back and forth.

Ollyver: see see see, Love. . . I go pee I go pee


**For the contest of  Just That Archaic Poet:This is my personification of Ollyver, the pet that gave me the greatest unconditional love of any pet I ever owned. Because we could never train him (I even hired a trainer to help us) and because of other complications, I had to give him up when he was around ten years old. I missed  him so much. and even my cat, Razzmatazz cannot replace him for pure affection. I gave him to a place that promised a no-kill policy and to this day, I am hoping he had a great life until the end!


Long poem by Jenesha Wheeler | Details |

Me and My Jesus

“Me and My Jesus”

In my prayer room my worship Zone. Mind off technology, career, and people just preparing myself to focus on Jesus. Just my bible so I can pour my whole self in.

In my prayer room me and my Jesus. No distraction do not disturb let the spirit move in this room meditating on the love of God that special celestial love of God. No description can descript the Almighty power from the skies. Eyes of Fire his presence along can get you high. The intimate Relationship with him will leave you speechless lost for words. Because the truth is there’s no verbs To descript when he give you a taste of heaven on earth.  All fear in me when he dig deeper in me because after all am I worthy. To pull out  what you don’t want in me to release the anointing upon me. Never have to worry about being forsaken the spirit inside has been awaken.  All powerful and great the blood he sled was not a mistake. So take your place and embrace the Love he want to pour upon you too. It was meant for all not just a few.  Accept him, invite him in so he can wipe every sin. Only him you can depend. He knows your every cry, He know the every need, he want to be your best friend. Because when God is for you who can come against.

In my prayer room me and my Jesus. Now my heart is going out to you. Because I wish I can enforce how with Jesus you can make it through. Me and my Jesus me and my Jesus Me and my Jesus.  You confessing that you 38 hot somebody got you 38 hot while I’m confessing Psalms 38:2 for his name sake he will not rebuke you in is anger nor chastise you. Let Jesus be your banner over inappropriate manners. Repeating the scripture to bless throughout mess. Reading to find the message. To know the MESS got an AGE which means there is a deadline to this stage of life I’m in. It won’t last yes it will pass. Those who are for you will stick closer than a brother. Don’t worry when others don’t understand. The mouth of your enemies will forever talk just make sure on your part with Jesus you will always walk. Know that you live on earth but where you from is the kingdom the language you speak is in tongue, the word only is what flow out even when it seems your life is going a different route. More Jesus More Jesus the Holy Ghost is so great. Many are save but sanctify in his love to relate.  Don’t let your spirit leave me Lord don’t let me go. More word More word I want to know. 

In my prayer room me and my Jesus, me and my Jesus, me and my Jesus,
In my prayer room me and my Jesus, me and my Jesus, me and my Jesus,
My cup run over every word comes from the word but sometimes when it hit the world the devil Try to reverse it. Curse it but as long as you got a mouth forever bless it. I will never run out Jesus is my supplier. My cup run over he won’t let me run out 
Don’t put a label on me call it grace when you see me. In my prayer room me and my Jesus me and my Jesus. Me and my Jesus


Long poem by Poetryof Providence | Details |

Increments

A thousand myriad voices           scattered on the wind
decry the human suffering questions will it end
tents in desert dustbowls        waiting upon the rain
lives molded in emptiness     how long can they sustain
 
Pandemic the diseases          a viral biology
man himself constructed          in tubes technology
outpouring chemicals     no plant life can escape
pillaging our resources         our planets incumbent rape
 
The corporations interest    aim profits in their greed
a force it must maintain             your pocket book exceed
desires  that are mercenary    have plans to you expunge
trash outstrips the landfills     the poor in countries plunge
 
The maintenance of property     with empty homes in rot
homeless children hungry   sleep in a parking lot
media insinuates                     you need be owning more
earning of the dollar          the dream you're living for
 
I have seen starvation          exists a different kind
a famine of affection     to others needs be blind
hedonistic pleasures          force decisions to ignore
repercussions down the road     contaminates hardcore
 
The disappearing species          on land and in the sea
ones  we've not discovered   may know them never be
chem. caused deformities               in humans also plants
cancer causing agents    saturating our advance
 
Facilities  explosions            toxic substances are spread
how much can nature take                 before our planets dead
we all have mankind's mind     we know where this will end
to destruct this machine                on man we can't depend
 
Aspartame and PCB's     nitrites not a few
pollution of the food supply        detriments not new
the really scary thing           as this accumulates
greater will its impact be       if prevention waits
 
As mans wars continue        a plan for our demise
we barely see the surface        that our governments disguise
there's a conspiracy      our morality to drown
if you hold to virtue                  their aim to take you down
 
In streaming videos          what's immoral implant
willingly absorb them            its profession is extant
the onslaught overwhelming          the pressure to conform
if you don't run with them        you aren't considered norm
 
The barrage of information           to absorb your time
new gaming now is free        to keep your mind online
even I use this tool         to reach inside your thought
every truth you hear            is seeking to be caught
 
here little there little           every piece in place
to clean up our planet     must destructive thought replace
errors inclination       mans  programming like a map
where is the intervention        to spring us from this trap
 
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
Via Duboff Law Group LLC


Long poem by lucky okoedion | Details |

BLACK CIVILIZATION - Too Long Awaited

Tens of decades of being spoon-fed or feeling helpless enough 
To surrender to strangers your leadership of culture and technology is not a generosity, 
But an exaggerated excuse of inherited slavery mentality; the Ironical simplicity 
Of not thinking forward enough,
Of not feeling good enough, 
Of not talking top enough, 
Of not standing tall enough, 
Of not acting bold enough, 
Of not knowing that standing alone 
To fall and stand again to fall and stand tall alone 
Is practice-worthy enough 
In order to remain tall. 

When will Africa build   
 her own world and refuse 
to stay down her hand for fear of mistakes and the inevitable growth-process failures? 
and when will Africa learn 
to dream her own dreams; I mean to be content within the realm 
where her programs only bear her own DNA signatures, 
where she no longer boasts shamefully of borrowed inventions that eternally refuse
to fit into the African context, that threaten to make us aliens of our true nature - 
incompatible alien social formulas that make our social engineering confused ?

Let’s cure ourselves of this cultural dislocation and intellectual humiliation.
When the inevitable barbarity of the crude form of our culture’s past is so glaring,
that we won’t but be irrational not to admit it,
who said it is something to be ashamed of?
Let them name a culture without a crude origin,
and I will show them a culture without a past, which is a culture that doesn’t exist.
Or let them show me an Africa who condemns its crude past,
and I will show them an Africa which has learnt.

An Africa which has learnt 
is the only Africa which can repent:
an Africa which has learnt to infuse
indigenous technology into all offerings she receives from the brothers around the globe,
is the only Africa which can build an African Africa.
Else she becomes a make-fit of a foreign cultural robe.

No civilization ever grew out of vacuum, 
but on the shoulders of others
to tower higher.
So it’s not a sin that Africa borrows culture today,
and that she condemns her crude past.
It only means a giant is in the making.
And it shall come to pass that out of these raw materials we are borrowing,
we shall build a black civilization and socialization
that will not like the former be sincerely shame-spoken of, 
but that shall know no equal,
and that shall be the highest export commodity in the world.
And Pan African is our formula.

There’s no genius without ingenuity,
there is no prosperity, whether economic or cultural
without indigenous Technology.
I can never help you to be better than me
unless you’re my next of kin,
and no continent is another’s next of kin.


Long poem by Linda Witt-King | Details |

I have an idea and I'm writing it down

Pastor Warren’s church in Orange County, Unity of Tustin too
There’s hardly anyone not affected; it’s sad but it’s true
Bottom lines are red, tithes & love offerings are lower
More people out of work, homes in foreclosure
Spending is dropping, business is slower.

Statistics say on average 34.5% of every dollar earned 
pays for interest on debt. Is that true? 
What if it’s more? What if it’s less? 
Whatever the difference, that’s surely a lot
When you think what it costs you to have what you got.

What if that interest could be diverted, transformed
to fund your kids’ education, your retirement
community resources & relief 
for those out of work or losing their homes
It can be done with technology available now
Put to use in a way not thought of before

I have an idea and I’m writing it down
We’ll create an annex to churches
much like is already done
with bookstores & day care & special events
It would house a credit union providing micro loans
teach entrepreneurship, financial solutions, education & more

We’ll have an internet café with alive water & foods
A venue for learning & networking & exploring strategies anew
We’ll find new ways to earn, to live, to spend & to save
In this place where we’ll gather to nurture, to nourish, to share & to have

Robert Kiyosaki of Rich Dad, Poor Dad lore
Said that the rich learn to network, the rest of us learn to look for a job
And when the jobs disappear
As they have this past year
Do we just throw up our hands & cry
What’s there to do? Oh me, oh my!

The Dalai Lama in September said
The world will be saved by the western woman
Which woman? you ask. Could it be me? Is he referring to you? 

I’m the center of my universe; you’re the center of yours
Can I save my world? Will you claim the power to save yours?

Community Wellspring
Water, Wellness, Wisdom and Wealth
An annex to churches
A model for living in today’s chaotic world
A solution whose time has come

Funded by interest currently paid to the bank
I’ll show you how, you’ll have UFirst to thank
It isn’t alchemy or magic; it’s just purely math
When you see how it works, you’ll probably laugh

And when we organize and network, we’ll create new revenue
For the churches, the community, for me and for you
By coming together, our world’s losses will end
We’ll be a force to contend with, our limitations transcend

Be a part of the solution
at From Debt To Equity dot com
It’s 2010
We are in charge of our destiny
Let’s make this a Breakthrough Year
…and do this thing


Long poem by Troy Nelson | Details |

The forbidden object among us

Ignorance is bliss my friends
its true
for centuries we have been going to wars 
due to an object among us
from another world

like everything here
technology 
literature and creativity another
witchcraft another plane 
someone climbed a staircase

walked into a world of gold and stores
stole something, bought something
with a word
was the word no?
and every time that word is spoken
someone somewhere disappears?

But what is this item amongst us
sending us to wars?
making us think its something else
claiming victoms
proving its venom among the gods of other worlds
who have cut off their connections with us
one day after the third world war
after our supposed apocalypse
this item will slide into another world
they will live our nightmare
3 wars, centuries of confusion and torment
where ignorance is bliss
to never know they have this item amongst them
cursing them

perhaps its free
maybe everyone has one
maybe its a book
a painting
a camera

we need to find it 
before the war of the worlds starts again
and the nightmares the psychic children and war veterans
of the previous rounds remember
of vampires monsters, werewolves happen
and the truth of the apocalypse of heavens and terrors happen again

what is this item?

once locked in a world in a safe place with a will of its own

the gods of the other worlds granted this world everything we have to figure it out
they isolate us

so now we have technology
several races
different satellites
religions and superstitions of strategy
to corner this item
but ignorance is bliss

is it alcohol?
making women in the past bath in blood?
drugs ensuring kids kill kids?
religion masking itself with purity and innocence
to use 70 years of psychological experience to sell guns bombs and drugs?

is it a ring?
is it a paintbrush that captures the soul?
an instructional joke book?

it is amongst us!
the other worlds might or might not know
its will is to spark up the war of the worlds we are here to prevent
and if we fail
all of our nightmares
we think we just dream 
we will live 
fight and die for
in more than one world
and it will seem like it never ends

is this world like a safe place for it?
and we the guardians and protectors
and who better than the arch angels of death and justice and man
who was poisoned by it
and the evil gods who were deceived by this item
so they are going to get the last laugh?

ignorance is bliss my friends!




Long poem by Olusegun Akanbi | Details |

Aliens

                     THE ALIENS



Nobody really knew of their existence
 until the year 2626
Prior to that year it was merely speculation
From an old scientist's bag of tricks
Lutus does not lie in the habitable zone of its star
Yet it is habitable 
 Hot and not very far
From Numulus
A mega super star
Sitting in the dark corners of the massive Milky Way
Nobody ever thought that we would see this day
Our predecessors had always talked about extraterrestrials
As little green men
Or horrifying monsters sitting in what looks like a lion’s den
Riding in flying saucers
But those people were double crossers
What we sighted 
Were nothing like men
And were unlikely monsters
As if God wanted to shield humanity from its doom
Aliens approaches with a boom
They were worm like chimeras
With one thousand legs
Or was it feet
Looking for meat
They emerged from their colonies 
That looks like a gigantic cocoon
Lying deep in a sea of water about the size of a lagoon
Glowing with bright light
We humans prepared for a fight
We fires on targets with our sophisticated weapons
The aliens simply multiplied in seconds
Right before their eyes 
We flew to the skies
Because there was no where to hide
And we had lost our pride
We flew away with our rocket boots
And made away with all our loots
To our spacecraft
A masterpiece of technology
But of that age it was an apology
The Lutus D 9 2700
With rock samples and specimens of skin of the worm monsters
What are they made of?
It is hard to tell
But seeing the way they rebel
It is obvious Lutus is hell
Aliens vomited a strange yellowish substance
Some damage the ship and caused resistance
We left our robot guards to contend with them 
As we watched from a distance
What are these simple beings?
That looks like earthly serpents that caused us fleeing
With an enormous strength and size
I saw it swallow up our space mobiles before it flies
They retreat to undisclosed location in the black sea
We dropped a nuclear device and made Lutus history
Intending the total annihilation of the entire worm race
But the more we killed the more these worms full the place
A midst the mushroom cloud
The next nuclear explosion sounded loud
Worms multiplied by asexual union
Army of aliens now over ten thousand billion
We have no other alternative than to abandon mission
This was a very hard decision
For me to take
But it was taken
To avoid internecine before I wake
And a nightmare that took place in Lutus’ black lake

By 
Olusegun Akanbi


	


Long poem by Andrew Crisci | Details |

REMEMBERING REAGAN'S WORDS

The crumbling down of the Berlin Wall finally 
ended the Cold War as a defiant Reagan challenged
Gorbachev as his famous words were spoken mightily, 
"Mr. Gorbachev, tear it down!"...And he shouted them with rage, 
while the heavy sledgehammer cracked it from the other side;
and a divided, lonely city still felt its utter demise.


On November 9th, nineteen-eighty nine, Berliners of both sides
tore down the humiliating wall which had separated them,
and with sledgehammers and bare hands they frantically
stripped it of every brick that prevented them, for a long time,
from sharing what the neighboring countries enjoyed;
and what was most desired by them was national unity.


Today is another day of remembrance and profound reflection:
when the two Superpowers agreed to end the plague of a city
that couldn't breath and prosper as the other European cities;
and remembering Reagan's words thundering behind that tall wall,
convinced a socialist regime to comply and bring back the harmony...
everywhere there were delirious shouts and many shed joyful tears.


Humanity, don't put the blame on an entire Nation for the horrible things
done to another race:  their Dictator was coarse, evil and vainglorious
as many were, have been and still are throughout World History;
and to seize power, it takes a tyrant who loves bloodshed and condescends dignity!
Wars are won by intuitive generals maneuvering their troops and warships...
before there was the sword, later the cannon and airplane, now technology is supreme.


If folks are denied freedom in all its various forms, tear your wall down
with all the required tools, halting the evil-doers despicable deeds,
and still be able to defend your vision of liberty, so defend it with alacrity and write
an ode or a ballad with an allegro tempo and remember Reagan's words
by unfurling your flag to cheerfully welcome your kindred who were exiled;
use the same words he spoke to unlock the closed minds so intramural.


Where there was bitterness and sadness, now there's irrepressible joy
and the streets and boulevards are open to all who were given a boundary,
and as it was anticipated the Berlin Wall had to be taken down to establish democracy;
celebrate Berliners and enjoy the fruit of your labors, your spirit will not down,
reminiscing the separation and grief that was caused by a socialist tyranny...
remember Reagan's words when you recall your divided city at the beginning of each dawn.  


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Long Poems