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New Colony Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Colony poems are below this new poems list.

Colony of One by Gaul, Greg
Cattle colony by chizoba vincent, john
HE HAD TO WEAR A FIG LEAF AT THE NUDIST COLONY by ALLISON, JAN
Tick colony by Ochwo-Oburu, Solomon
Ant colony by Pullen, Charles
A Flasher at a Nudist Colony by Camp, Elton
Nudist Colony from Space by Campbell, Ian D.
For The Ant Colony by Golden, Gregory
The Space Colony of Mars by Golden, Gregory
A Colony by Waeland, Tony

View all new Colony Poems

The Best Colony Poems

Details | Colony Poem |

Stunning Revelations from Ancient Maps

Professor Hapgood’s studies on ancient maps were fixed
Einstein said his theories should be added to history’s mix
Perhaps it proved too big a leap for other minds to take
But his ancient culture findings, Hapgood would not forsake

6000 BC, before Egypt’s pyramids were built
Millennia before Pompeii’s lava had been spilled
Or small fishing boats hugged the Mediterranean Coast
And Columbus’s “daring” voyage was not even close

Ancient seafarers drew with astounding accuracy
Maps of the world they once knew, the fishermen’s legacy
Antarctica sans ice and closer to the equator
The Mid-Atlantic Ridge once an above-sea sky scraper

Siberia touching Alaska with no Bering Strait
(Palin could have seen Russia without snow from her back gate)
 Cuba, England, Sweden, too, on these maps appear clearly
But Sweden’s fully glacial; England’s blanket an ice sheet

If we believe Hapgood, a civilization once thrived
Thousands of years before language; maps keep memories alive
Technology to chart the seas was lost in ancient times
With latitude and longitude measurements quite refined

Sea kings’ cities may have succumbed during the last Ice Age
Surviving nations lost their skill when history turned a page
Geography to be found again when the Earth had healed
“Discoverers” reinvented the forgotten ship’s wheel

Magellan, perhaps not the first to sail around the globe
Admiral Byrd not the first man to visit the South Pole
Spirits from a colony of seafarers can be found
From deep beneath Antarctic ice, they try to spread the word

But laugh they must as scientists forecast global warming
And man attempts to alter life and heed their dire warning
Shifting poles?  Natural cycles!  Men would be well advised
To study the maps Hapgood found and open their closed minds 



To learn more about Professor Charles Hapgood’s map studies and the comments made by 
Albert Einstein, you can visit http://www.crystalinks.com/crustal.html.

Details | Colony Poem |

HE HAD TO WEAR A FIG LEAF AT THE NUDIST COLONY

Dinky
Winky


11-22-17

Details | Colony Poem |

Trump Shields The US From Becoming A Carcass Filled With Ants

Trump Shields The US From Becoming A Carcass Full With Ants 

Trumps draws a line in the sand
He's shaken all the trees in the land
Call him whatever, okay an ***
Yet keep in mind his motto USA first
From the civil war to now
No other's brought out the plow
Like how Trump has outlined in his model
In stomping his foot down full throttle
In Trump's twelve days in office
He's raining on the bureaucratic chorus 
Telling big business to fear
Of outsourcing jobs from here
He's taken on the pharmaceutical giants
To lower their prices, and be more compliant
He set a visa moratorium on 7 Muslim countries 
Prompting protester's chastises, so bluntly
He's opened dialogue for domestic oil exploration
Setting the country's future more self reliant of oil importation
He's befriended the Brits, and hired a cabinet of friends
Some of which are the richest, so one hopes it pays dividends
To this he silences his, what, ... critics? 
By calling them, okay, ... idiots !
Trump's IQ some say it's one of the tops
One hope pressure doesn't make it pop
Trump also seen as grandstanding his wall
For the Mexican President to take the fall
Yet he may be right on all of this
For it's a lot of walkovers from the border
That's soaking up the jobs, social and welfare
Taking up space for the ones already here
Trump may be xenophobic and not a tulip or rose
But he can't be accused of tiptoeing in
He needed to stem the colony of ants
Instead of letting them bred and expanse



connie pachecho

2/1/17

Details | Colony Poem |

The Melting Pot- a soup pot of giants-w

    


The United States is a vast country of immigrants
Each immigrant adds an ingredient and a flavor
“A melting pot”, visualizing a soup pot of giants
Each and every culture has some fine gifts to offer.

Immigration began in 1607 with Jamestown colony
Immigrants arriving called themselves pilgrims here
Where they could practice their own religion freely
Each and every culture has some fine gifts to offer. 

Self-reliance of New England in the north and in Boston
Almost for two centuries an economic-cultural centre
And south “southern drawl” the most colorful region 
Each and every culture has some fine gifts to offer.

The West, the last frontier, the move Westward impact
To find new opportunity, to live a new life in a way better
The Great Lakes Region, an auto industry stacked in fact
Each and every culture has some fine gifts to offer.


Now shifting toward multiculturalism, not assimilation
The old “melting pot” replaced by “salad bowl” metaphor 
Or still new “mosaic” not blending immigrant population
Each and every culture has some fine gifts to offer.

===================================

Dr. Ram Mehta

Eighth Place win 

Contest: America the melting pot for freedom by Dane Ann

Details | Colony Poem |

The day was fine and sunlit,
Decorated by several clouds
drifting aimlessly in the radiant ocean-blue sky.
Chorused by gentle puffs of the morning breeze,
Sending leaves on the streets twirling like
ballerinas in a dazzling and mesmerising dance.
and the trees too,
waving their twigs like hands saluting people walking past,
Then the emergency siren suddenly shrieked,
Threatening of a descending storm,
Send us scurrying to safety,
As dark clouds stretched across the horizon
and its shadow slowly devours the daylight,
People around the village stormed like a colony of ants panicking
from the incoming storm,
Busy sand-bagging their houses and boarding up their windows with plywood
To keep them from falling apart.

I was inside my study room,
Huddled beneath the mountain of textbooks piling around me,
Terrified that I may not survive
from whatever’s happening outside,
From the storm clouds swarming over the school,
Unleashing sudden, violent bolts of lightning slashing across the skyline
As the deafening roar of thunder echoed through the village,
And then it came.
Cruel and merciless rain beating down upon us,
An untamed ocean of terror and destruction thrown from the unusually blackened sky
accompanied by the howling of immense hurricane-like wind,
Red blood-like sap spurted from the trees
moaning and groaning in agony
As their limbs were brutally ripped away by the monstrous downpour.
The winds were savage animals screaming at the children
While gnawing and clawing at our houses
like a pack of hungry wolves
searching for their frightened prey.
Iced daggers stabbed at my feet
As the waterfall gushed through our roof
And knocked me to the floor.
Slowing the pressure eased,
as the rain gradually lessoned,
until finally fading into a charming melody,
Resembling the graceful chimes of bells.

The molten-gold rays peaked out over the mountain-tops
Emerging from behind a peaceful sheet of mist,
Casting slanted beams of light shining across the village.
Fluttering of wings could be heard
as birds erupted from their shelters
followed by an explosion of elegant song.
They sailed majestically over the schoolyard in unison,
Chirping and cheeping through the village’s moat of vast forest
as happy as a newborn penguin.
When I stared toward the golden coin glistening in the brilliant sky,
It appeared to me that the day was fine and sunlit,
Decorated by several clouds
drifting aimlessly in the radiant ocean-blue sky.

WRITER STATEMENT

My poem Storm is an extended metaphor for the emotions around school exams. It is written in three parts: before, during and after the exam. The intended audience is teachers, and the purpose is to elicit sympathy towards students, especially ones who underperform in exams. This poem has a scary mood, featuring the themes of destruction and terror up to the climax when ‘Iced daggers stabbed at my feet/As the waterfall gushed through our roof’. The third stanza used ‘birds’ to metaphorically represent the joyful group of students after the examination.

Sibilance was used when ‘the emergency siren suddenly shrieked’, with the sharp ‘s’ sound being uncomfortable and shocking to the reader. Sibilance was also used in the previous quote ‘Iced daggers stabbed at my feet’ allowing the reader to picture and feel the uncomfortable and painful scenario of rain ‘gushing’ through the roof like daggers made of ice. The mood intensified at critical points, with similes such as ‘leaves on the streets twirling like ballerinas’. Personification was used in the simile ‘gnawing and clawing at our houses like a pack of hungry wolves’, which exaggerated the wind’s animalistic brutality. An example of vivid auditory imagery is the personification and assonance of the trees that ‘moaned’ and ‘groaned’, which is an unpleasant and painful human sound, strongly appealing to the reader’s empathy. Furthermore, enjambment was used during the second stanza to create an interrupted rhythm. This changed the tone to a more panicked one, engaging the reader in the suspense of the storm.

Anthropomorphism was used throughout the second stanza, where the storm clouds were accompanied by ‘the deafening roar of thunder’ and throws down upon the village ‘an untamed ocean of terror and destruction’. The use of lending a human element to a non-human subject (eg. Storm) allows the reader to emphasise with the feelings of the ‘villagers’, increases the relativity between the storm and the villagers, and also granting character to the subject (ie. Storm).

Structurally, the shape of the text varied dramatically (not shown on the site, due to space availability) during the second stanza to represent the calamity and disorder brought by the storm, contrasted with the peace before and after the storm. The poem was also framed by repeating the same three lines at the beginning and end. This engages the reader in the message that no storm lasts forever just like exams.

06/01/17

Details | Colony Poem |

ANOTHER YEAR WITH YOU

ANOTHER YEAR WITH YOU

Unto the night sky, I see a lace of stars twinkling bright
and far beyond the moon with a grin of mystique light
I welcome the thought that two nights from now,
year 2015 will knock and greet upon my door...

Father God, wow! I can't help to be thankful!
All those bumps and struggles this 2014 
whew! I am so thankful that You carried me through...

I have no doubt that it has been always YOU
who is there with me, guiding and listening to me.
Through, people all around me... see...
a child's smile that melts my heart..
my mama's strong voice that toughens me...
my papa's jokes that drew a giggle in me...
the greetings and hugs of friends all around
to the challenging remarks from some
reminds me always that You are just within my reach...

How can I forget Your presence
when each day I wake up...

I behold and have the privilege to enjoy Your creation...
from the serene puffy cotton clouds on blue skies,
from the warmth sprayed by Mr. Sunshine
even the pricking sweats falling unto my brows...
from the colony of ants align to gather their food, 
to the sweet smell of flowers,
to the dew kissing the leaves 
to the moving fishes I perceive on clear waters
to the soaring flight of birds...
these and others reminds me of Your dear presence... :)!

I am so glad that You are within my life.

Unseen but always felt within minutes of a heartfelt prayer.
Unheard but always on time on answering every uttered appeal...
Can't help to be teary eyed when I remember
those daily miracles You let me experience;
those revelations You letting me witness;
those trials and storms in which by remaining in You, I won!

Giving me further reason to thank You 
and give back to You all the things You are doing to me...

Young at twenty-eight they say,
but I thank You that despite what has been
I can say I am blossoming better in every way
because my earnest pursuit of Your will in my life.
I am all challenged and being bent by Your living words.
I am all being convicted too when I do falter
but I am so grateful for Your gift of mercy.
Hence, I make it a point to do more, more and more,
for myself and above all to others
to which You always said that indeed by loving
and extending help to others, I am also loving You...

It is not by merely praying,
nor attending a  daily mass or service
nor lifting my hands to praise You
nor singing and dancing in-front of Your altar
nor handing my tithes or offering
that I am indeed praising and worshiping You
but... but...
It is by sharing the experience 
of You loving me to others 
and so with Your creations
is the best way.
And even loving and praying that You
will bless and touch those who persecutes me.

I thank You Father God for a wonderful year
and I am looking forward for another year with YOU.

Forever grateful and forever in seek of You,
 God, more and more.


©O. E. Guillermo
08:50 am, December 30, 2014

Details | Colony Poem |

Moon

	
Moon 
---- 
 
 
Once night Gretta Foster sat in the backyard, 
building a rocket ship that ought to take her a-far, 
she had been working day and night - tirelessly, 
hammering, programming, all so dexterously. 
 
Then when the sun arose and sparkled in the sky, 
Gretta was still working, that too without a sigh, 
the ship was finally built, Gretta was on cloud nine, 
but going a bit farther up than that seemed rather fine. 
 
She sat inside the cockpit, tightened her seat belt, 
pushed a few buttons, with such admirable stealth, 
algorithms aplenty - all perfectly aligned, 
as the engine started roaring, boisterously alight. 
 
The rocket ascended at last, it set sail yonder, 
to the farthest frontier that this universe could conjure, 
and after it finally left the vivid atmosphere, 
Gretta was so happy, she let out a smiling tear. 
 
Days passed and she was put in catatonic sleep, 
immobile and still, immersed in lovely dreams, 
suddenly with a thud, the ship had landed still, 
She woke up instantly, with a newfound thrill. 
 
She wore the lunar suit, which she had stitched herself, 
opened up the bolted door and descended the metal steps, 
the moment she touched ground, she turned around, 
and got pleasantly surprised by what she found! 
 
A red-hatted impish elf, sat crossed leg, 
a large nosed fairy stood, munching on nutmeg, 
two rabbits bowed down to the rabbit goddess, 
and two more pressed her feet, in a soft caress. 
 
Gretta walked a step and heard the elf shout, 
"oh silly person, take that suit out!, 
we've got oxygen, plenty of em to breathe, 
that suits a waste o' time and energy!" 
 
Gretta obeyed, and unzipped the heavy suit, 
underneath she wore a dress - flowery and cute, 
"good going, young child, now lemme show you, 
this lovely wonderland which you dub the moon!" 
 
And the elf was right, they met unicorns, 
box-laden garden paths and joyous little fauns, 
walking and talking scarecrows, nursing little crows, 
small blue doll houses with chuckling gnomes. 
 
within a crater lived a colony of werewolves, 
but they were nice and fair - specially one named Ulf, 
he'd give her milk and tea with chocolate biscuits, 
and in order to keep her warm, red spotted mitts. 
 
The goddess too was nice, a wise and lovely soul, 
"be imaginative and create, but don't forget your goal", 
she'd also give her nutmeg of such abundant variety, 
her best friend was a Faun, so strong and mighty. 
 
and the Minotaurs build Gretta a lovely home, 
with a mushroom roof and walls build of foam, 
"stay here with us, Gretta, you'd have a great time", 
said the red-hatted elf while singing a rhyme. 
 
Gretta thought and thought, she came to a decision, 
she decided to stay for sure, she looked forward for her admission, 
and from thereon, life for her was perfected, 
all her dying wishes had suddenly been resurrected.

Details | Colony Poem |

Bird In A Tux

I do not fly but waddle far.
For fun I slide on my tummy.
And if I have my eye on a mate
I'll feed them fishes so yummy!

Singing a love song is common for me.
To attract a mate I'll croon.
And if I leave the colony sometime
I'll surely be back soon.

Under the water I really can't breathe.
But can hold my breath a short while.
I spend my time mostly at sea.
But when on shore I make humans smile.

You'll point at me and giggle out loud.
I know you think I'm cute!
But don't try to capture me I plead.
Just admire my black and white suit.

A little bit like you humans I am.
Sometimes I mate for life.
Yet other times I play the field.
Perhaps even cheat on my "wife"!

So here I go to dive and plunge
where the water is deep and cold.
Just some things you should know about me.
I'm amazing-if I may be so bold!




for Archaic Poet's animal personification contest

Details | Colony Poem |

APARTHEID

He was baptized into slavery 
And submerged in the winter 
Of your hatred 
And was converted to poverty 
In the land of gold,

You taught him that GOD 
Was a white baas 
Who had invented the pass! 
And the police were 
The angels of death,

He learned to read 
Whites only 
Lest he fall into heresy 
And desecrate your piss-pots,

And as you crept 
Out of the garden 
Of your humanity 
And excommunicated 
Yourselves from justice 
And damned your generation 
Chained in gold 
To a leper colony, 

And as he stumbled 
Through his oppressive crucifixion 
You took him off your cross 
And sold him in the market place 
To mercenaries while you counted the rosaries 
Of your crimes to man,

Now he a victim 
Of your greed 
A witness to your crimes 
Is finally free.

Details | Colony Poem |

Insects A to Z

A is for Ant, tiny but stout, they can lift fifty times their own weight,
B is for Bee, reaps nectar for honey; may opt to attack if made irate.

C is for Cricket, chirps his best at night to attract stunning female,
D is for Dragonfly, fast flier with two pairs of wings; strong not frail.

E is for Earwig, type of beetle with a pair of pinchers on his belly,
F is for Fly; an ugly pest that invades picnics or anything smelly.

G is for Glow worm, lady of the night, turns on her light for her mate,
H is for Hornet; female ran colony, few males have right to date.

I is for Inchworm, lack legs in body core causing a looping gait,
J is for June bug, beetle that swarms in June; starving toads seal their fate.

K is for Kissing bug, sucks blood from the lips or face of unsuspected beasts,
L is for Lady bug, beauty to behold; tastes repulsive to say the least.

M is for Mosquito, female pest that drinks blood, causes disease in return,
N is for Nit, eggs of lice clinging to hair till hatched making itch a concern.

O is for Owlfly, dragonfly-like but not related; with large bulging eyes,
P is for Praying mantis, takes praying pose before ensnaring lunch surprise.

Q is for Queen Butterfly, close relative to Monarch, russet with black edge,
R is for Rice weevil, pest that lives inside grain; growing in the secured wedge.

S is for Stink bug, releases foul smell from its thorax when alarmed,
T is for Tsetse fly, bloodsucking kin to house fly; a human host is harmed.

U is for Underwing, heavy large moth that flies at night; hated garden pest,
V is for Vine borer, moth larva bore in squash vines; sweet insides they ingest.

W is for Water bug, stores air in a void under his wings; walks on water,
X is for Xerces Blue Butterfly, first U.S. butterfly extinct by home slaughter.

Y is for Yellow plant bug; devastates plants by feeding on tasty plant sap,
Z is for Zebra butterfly, has striking stripes; creaks when he’s faced with a scrap.

From A to Z there is a menagerie of insects sharing our lives,
some have become extinct but an infinite amount still survives.

Fifth Place Winner ~ "Z is for Zaria: An ABC Couplet" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Cyndi MacMillian
April 3, 2013

Footnote: I am a sixty-two year old woman who still loves writing poetry, whether I can or not…

Details | Colony Poem |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...

(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)

a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...

(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)

Details | Colony Poem |

SPRING OF SUBSTANCE

SPRING OF SUBSTANCE


Adorable word  drawing a rainbow of substance-- SPRING
Benumb snow-white cloak that drapes the earth,
charmed by strips of  golden spotlight above blue skies
delicate cloak now being peeled to show
emeralds of nature: daring to model life
Footsteps ready to walk on warm green grassy ground
guided by cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we to chiff chaffs
hummed in chorus by swifts, mistrels and humble bees
Idyllic scents of daffodils and scilla swirls on mid-air...
Joyful Squirrels springing on loops of woods and rocks
kindles energy burst after their winter sleep.
Lodging everywhere the rising beauty of butterflies 
Miles and miles you will see valleys and hills smile.
Nightingales: diva among birds share their lullabies.
Ox huge and strong that home flies now in the stall lies;
Painting bright is the seabird colony of puffins, shags and gulls
quieting your despair and  muse for a stare.
Running cluster in the woodlands are bluebells,
seen enough, be a phenologist if you like!
taking notes when and where your first sight:
unfolding flowers, frogs, spawns and others.
Viral is the fun that leaps high during season of spring.
Wildlife a phenomenal broadway to the eyes!
Xanthic warm light  will keep all acts alive
yielding an amazing breathing ride to anyone. 
Zoom spring and delight in its zaftig view!
_____________________________________________________________



TERMS:
--xanthic--yellow or yellowish
--zaftig--having full view or rounded figure

©O. E. Guillermo
10:12pm, February 25, 2015 

Sponsor	Shadow Hamilton 
Contest Name	Abecedarian 
Placed 3rd

Best Colony Poems | Poetry

New Colony Poems

The Best Colony Poems

Garden of mum

Stunning Revelations from Ancient Maps

POLAR ANTHOLOGY

HE HAD TO WEAR A FIG LEAF AT THE NUDIST COLONY

The Whips Of History - 4

Crack Of The Moon

Creating a Negro

Trump Shields The US From Becoming A Carcass Filled With Ants

Birds at Sea

A spell by moonlight

Nomads of the Rising Sun

Deadly Enchantress

Colony of One

Working Ants and Circumstance

IN THE COLONY OF RAGS

Now And Then And Now Again

The Melting Pot- a soup pot of giants-w

Storm

ANOTHER YEAR WITH YOU

Moon

Bird In A Tux

APARTHEID

Insects A to Z

A Story My Mother Told Me

SPRING OF SUBSTANCE