Best The Great Depression Poems
Struggling through the Great Depression
Growing up fatherless in the care of a loving aunt
Losing her husband, his weary mother could not cope
Working for the Civilian Conservation Corps
Trying to support his family
Attending school at night to provide a better life
Playing his sax and clarinet
Resounding notes of joy cast blessings
Filling our home with happiness many children never know
Loving eyes and deep, gentle voice
Drawing admiration from all who came to know him
Speaking softly, never in harsh tones
Accepting life’s challenges
Forgiving when his children seemed ungrateful
Nurturing, caring, standing by our sides
Picking us up when we fell
Offering support in every endeavor
Being the kind of father he never had
Teaching us to work hard and achieve
Reminding us that life offers no guarantees
Encouraging us to rebound from challenges as “come-back kids”
Gathering at his hospital bedside New Year’s Day 2009
Astonishing nurses with the depth of our love
Never leaving his side, three grown children rested hands upon his
Lingering six days in a coma, perhaps his soul already in heaven
Speaking to him, hoping he could hear
Wanting him to feel our love one last time
Siblings who rarely agreed
Concurring just this once
Feeling blessed by our father, the brightest star we see in heaven
* Dedicated to my father, Arthur Schwarz, who died January 6, 2009
Thankless job, I think watching
as Thurman tries to teach the young man
The lad sitting up
on the tractor
like a proud young pup
is full of piss and vinegar
half the time not listening
and half the time telling Thurman
how much he already knows...
As Thurman patiently slumps
his still-sturdy but ungainly frame
against the tractor
fingers strumming his red suspenders
a good-natured grin
slowly spreading
across his grizzled face
gleaming behind think glasses
I see a glint of soft amusement
at this grandiose greenhorn
Thurman has lived through
the Great Depression, and then
the horror of hand-combat
in World War II
one of three from his unit
to make it through-
so there is nothing this little ingrate
can possibly do or say
to break Thurman's composure today
he remains uncommonly calm
and utterly unflappable
a small chuckle slipping out
every now and then
And while the young man boasts
and blusters on about
his plans for next week
Thurman is mostly quiet, until
at length, asked about his plans
“Lord willing-
and the creek don't rise...”
he begins, knowing how
much could change by then
Wise to emulate
“The Greatest Generation”
Depression Era
Hard times faced with dignity
Heroes rose from common men
*Entry for Brian’s Ekphrasis contest. Based on the book “The Greatest Generation”
by Tom Brokaw, a truly inspiring account of how people met the financial challenges
of The Great Depression.
Discrepancy is an economic thing. Have you ever known this to be anything else?
Money is the great separator of togetherness. Man rob, steal, and kill just for the feel of its illicit presence. Woman will sell, which defines exploitation, steal from you, and lie on thy neighbor for just a little wealth.
These concepts are aspects of someone’s life.
Crime becomes escalated and mental health becomes the strife. The minister said within his blackness, “There has to be a better way.” However, there is no reason for this other than the lack of fulfillment and/or greed.
As a poet and philosopher, I respond, “We have to help everyone to overcome poverty.”
Note, the media and academia went on “The Tour on Poverty.” When they reported out, they showed how the Great Depression of 2008-2009 had affected the workforce and the home front.
Why are we not upset to see people living in poverty?
Academia stayed East and this made it seem that North, South, and West were the greatest downward spiral. Therefore, I present to you The School of Social Theology.
The School of Social Theology is a new school of thought that states poverty is melodramatic to us not being there for our family and what friends we are.
We live well but we do not offer the same to all.
The School of Social Theology seeks eradication of social injustice to state poverty must end. If you are working to end social injustice, today will not be the same as tomorrow...
A fight against social injustice is a fight for social justice!
_____________________________________________|
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
Contest Name: Random Mix
No Greater Hero,
Struggling through the Great Depression
Growing up fatherless in the care of a loving aunt
Losing her husband, his weary mother could not cope
Working for the Civilian Conservation Corps
Trying to support his family
Attending school at night to provide a better life
Playing his sax and clarinet
Resounding notes of joy cast blessings
Filling our home with happiness many children never know
Loving eyes and deep, gentle voice
Drawing admiration from all who came to know him
Speaking softly, never in harsh tones
Accepting life’s challenges
Forgiving when his children seemed ungrateful
Nurturing, caring, standing by our sides
Picking us up when we fell
Offering support in every endeavor
Being the kind of father he never had
Teaching us to work hard and achieve
Reminding us that life offers no guarantees
Encouraging us to rebound from challenges as “come-back kids”
Gathering at his hospital bedside New Year’s Day 2009
Astonishing nurses with the depth of our love
Never leaving his side, three grown children rested hands upon his
Lingering six days in a coma, perhaps his soul already in heaven
Speaking to him, hoping he could hear
Wanting him to feel our love one last time
Siblings who rarely agreed
Concurring just this once
Feeling blessed by our father, the brightest star we see in heaven
Carolyn Devonshire
* Dedicated to my father, Arthur Schwarz, who died January 6, 2009
This poem, is Carolyn Devonshire.
one feels each word, not only in this wonderful dedication to her father,
but in every poem she writes,
her comments are warm and sincere,
and one can only be drawn to her understanding of the human race.
this is a wonderful contest. and i for one feel honoured to be a part of it.
harry horsman.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Tobruk Siege
Rommel of the Blitzkrieg
had Europe overcome
With the Stukas and dive bombing
And the Tanks that overrun
North Africka would see his tanks
il Duce’s troops were beat
Aussies took 20,000 Italians
At Tobruk in stinking heat
In Europe when his tanks arrived
The captured did surrender
The Poms escaped at Dunkirk
The English well remember
Morsehead an Aussie General
He baited the trap
Strategic mines, artillery, cooks
manned Italian guns , and ack ack.
Tobruk the Panzer tanks came in
The rats went down their holes (Desert Rats Aussie Diggers said Lord Haw Haw)
They rose behind the tanks
Wehrmact soldiers bullet holed
25 pounders fired at just point blank
with cooks and Pommy Armour
Were thinning German ranks
true blue these little charmers
So they blew the turrets off
16 of the best
Unbeaten until this point
A trace of fallen crest
8 long months they dished it out
Though Rommel tried again ……….(lost just as many tanks again)
He had to wait till the Aussies left
To take Tobruk from them
Don Johnson
70 years ago, the Afrika Korp would attack the 14,000 Aussies and Tommy Tank men, Also known as Rats.
The Tanks rolled into the perimeter, Aussies sprang from their holes and fought the German Soldiers behind the tanks, “We shut the gate behind them” the Aussies said.
This thorn in the side in Rommel ‘s mind allowed time for the massive replacement of
armour destroyed by Rommel, with American tanks. The siege held for 240 days in
what is now today’s , Gaddafi’s Lybria. These Aussies were used to living rough
sleeping on the ground
walking from town to town in the great depression, they were brought up on roo or pig shooting and the occasional rabbit.
This poem is dedicated to Souper Joyce Johnson! “The Greatest Generation” was penned by newscaster Tom Brokaw in 1998 and became a best seller. This generation is defined as people born between 1901 and 1927 who survived the Great Depression and World War II.
The Great Depression
World War II
Multiple epidemics
Assassination of a president
At 80 Joyce picked up her poetic pen
Joining Poetry Soup, way back then
Lifetime of memories and wisdom she shares
Musings from a woman who loves and cares
Surviving life-changing losses
Burying her parents
Losing her beloved husband
And all her siblings
As her century mark approached, a publisher phoned
Seeking to spread the perspectives Joyce owned
“Lifetime Memories in Verse,” a special archive
Joyce’s poems displayed to keep memories alive
History repeats
From past mistakes we learn
Our “Greatest Generation” is disappearing
Tap their wisdom now
*March 9, 2021
For Line Gauthier’s “Poetry as Legacy” Contest
10/21/19
Living I'm blessed to do
I reckon to you
There's more than a dimension or two
Life continues to beckon through
In any direction it's true
Worse and better selections
Good and bad intentions
Let this be a lesson to you
Eventually the great depression ensued
Folks that do or don't leave impressions on you
Some have a profession or two
The questions grew
It was or wasn't a great suggestion to you
You either did or didn't make a confession or few
Eventually engines blew
Won by the last second or two
Will or won't have misconceptions of you
Continually the tensions grew
Some beginning to threaten, having aggression toward you
Wanting possession of you
Other's dangerous obsessions grew
Paying nothing but attention to you
Make a mess of you
Been far ahead of you
I'd expect nothing less of you
As good as dead to you
Watch out, or it'll have ended for you
Will or won't find out if heaven is true
The only mention of you
Left behind seven shoes
And eleven Rubik's cubes
Best wishes on what you're destined to do
Wisen up when life gives lemons to you
Work harder and on more revenue
Show you in person, don't need to put it in pen for you
If need be, I'd have bled for you
Stick out my arm, leg , chest and neck for you
Like I always said to you
There's nobody else instead of you
Because I have a connection with you
Still will follow through, on what I set to do
I wish my best to you
To tell the truth
Either way, I'd go to heaven, but not hell for you
Many methods grew
In the midst of a quest or two
Finishing the job, is what is next to do
Writers and poets are a different breed
They live and breathe phrases and concepts
Awash with all manner of clever speech
At engaging the reader, they're adept
They invite you on travels to distant lands
To discover strange customs and beliefs
To experience a whole new world apart
The Rain Forests, The Great Barrier Reef
Through the eyes of these intrepid travellers
We witness different morals and rituals
Experiences people wouldn't normally view
Many of which, are sacred and spiritual
Imagine if we didn't have these literary giants
To warn us of mistakes of the past
The Great Depression, the two World Wars
How great nations through history never last
Writers and poets are a different breed
They focus on the ethereal side of being
Flying high above the horizons
In a world of unknown and unseeing
© Jack Ellison 2014
Writers and poets are a different breed
They live and breathe phrases and concepts
Awash with all manner of clever speech
At engaging the reader, they're adept
They invite viewers on travels to distant lands
To discover strange customs and beliefs
To experience a whole new world apart
The Rain Forests, The Great Barrier Reef
Through the eyes of these intrepid travellers
We witness different morals and rituals
Experiences people wouldn't normally view
Many are very sacred and spiritual
Imagine if we didn't have these literary giants
To warn us of mistakes of the past
The Great Depression, the two World Wars
How great nations through history never last
Writers and poets are a different breed
They focus on the ethereal side of being
Flying high above the distant horizons
In a world of unknown and unseeing
Together, my parents faced two world wars, the great depression, floods, fires, and some things that would bring most people to their knees. Imagine just where I would be if they had just decided that things were too rough and chucked in the towel. At the time, I didn’t think they had a lot to give. But looking back, I’m amazed at how much I got.
steak’s what I wanted
bologna is what I got—
never went hungry
They survived the Great Depression, my parents did
living from hand-to-mouth for over a decade
Took any job they could get, and were grateful for it
working 72 hours a week for a ‘salary’ of twelve lousy bucks
My father watched grown men cry and jump out of tenement windows
ashamed that they could not provide for their families – two or three a day, he told me
My mother heard ‘dirty Jew’ hurled at her so often
she became obsessive about washing her hands and face…
…Yet when it came time to serve their country
they were first in line for the privilege of seeing America through WW2
Fighting side by side with fellow un-hyphenated Americans
Jewish or Catholic, from Italy or France – didn’t matter
Americans all, they fought their hearts out for the Stars and Stripes
for the land of the brave and the home of the braver
******
And now, it pains me to see what we’ve become on the cusp of our 250th birthday
Capitalists fleeing our signature city, NYC, run by an unrepentant socialist radical
‘Woke’ Governors, Congressmen and Mayors giving away ‘stuff,’
Free health care, free college, free food, free rent, free bus service, free, free, free
The greatest public misfit of any age, Bernie Sanders, the cheerleader egging it all on
And the devil himself, George Soros, quietly financing the destruction of the country
America! that saved his life, granting him refuge from the Nazis
******
May my mother and father, and their entire generation, rest in peace knowing they made
America great once and made us all so proud.
The Great Depression began around 1930 and it was world wide.
It was so bad that about forty thousand people committed suicide.
It began when the Stock Market crashed on October the 29th of 1929.
The Great Depression sent many people to the unemployment lines.
The Great Depression lasted over ten years.
Life was rough, that much is painfully clear.
That period brought about Gangsters and many people turned to crime.
My Grandma blamed Hoover for the Great Depression because he was President at the time.
Times were tough and many good people suffered back then.
People were happy when the Great Depression came to an end.
The sun sets on the dark streets
Tears leave eyes as they begin to grieve
Life is hard for all
But they struggle on, trying not to fall
Food is scarce and people starve
Words of emotion in walls are carved
Houses are taken and the streets become home
Bankruptcy evident from too many loans
Whole families looking towards the sun
Remembering the times when they use to have fun
They pray together hoping for the best
Saying the Great Depression is just God's test
I was a mere lad of ten living on a prairie farm in Hoosier land,
Roaming the fields in my old straw hat, barefoot, carefree and tanned.
My faithful dog, Spooks, was always with me chasing rabbits,
(And rabbits were very plentiful due to their prolific habits!)
We had no inside facilities such as running water or a bath.
Our privy, as it was called, was located at the end of a winding path!
A Saturday night ritual was taking a sitz bath in a metal washing tub,
Then we'd pile in Dad's '35 Dodge and head for town after my scrub.
There was no TV in those days and my ears were glued to the radio,
Following the adventures of my heroes, filtered through static-filled audio!
I spent my meager allowance buying model planes and crafting the things.
Dozens hung from the ceiling of my room floating on gossamer wings.
I used a supple willow branch for a rod and a safety pin for a hook,
Angling for crawdads and wily crappie in the cool and flowing brook.
The Great Depression was ending way back then when I was ten.
Alas, World War Two began and things were never the same again.
On languid summer afternoons on a limb of the old oak tree I'd stretch,
And watch the scudding clouds as boyhood dreams I'd sketch.
Those were some of the things I did way back then when I was ten.
I'm four score and five now, but how I cherish memories of way back then!
Entry for Kelly Deschler's "Way Back When I Was Ten" Contest