Best Twenty Fourth Poems
On the twenty fourth of February in twenty twenty two
Russia invaded Ukraine and fierce fighting did ensue
Vladimir Putin it seems, wants to restore the iron curtain
And sadly he will succeed, of that it looks certain.
Tanks and missiles, the Russians used in their attack
But against Putins thugs, brave Ukrainians are fighting back
Vladimir Putin is unhinged and he Is losing his sanity
Claiming the Ukraine is a threat, to Russian security.
He's made threats to the west, if they come to Ukraines aid
Does he honestly think that western powers are afraid
Unfortunately the Ukraine is not part of the Nato alliance
So the west introduced, heavy sanctions in defiance.
Hitting Russia with severe sanctions seems like a good idea
But it failed to stop Russian aggression, when they invaded Crimea
A lot more needs to be done though before it's too late
Or the Ukrainian people will suffer, an unspeakable fate.
The Ukrainian president has sent out a rallying cry
Ukrainians are bearing arms, and are prepared to die
The death toll will rise with casualties on either side
People are running to find safety but there's no where to hide.
Putin claimed only military targets, would be in the line of fire
But civilian apartments have been hit, Putin is a liar
There has been many deaths, some badly injured too
But they will fight to the last man, it's what they will do.
Acts of bravery the Ukrainians will always remember
Like the guards on Snake Island who refused to surrender
The Russian warship fired missiles, all thirteen men died
To me that is a war crime; those responsible should be tried.
The old days are over, the Soviet Union is long dead
Why can't Vladimir Putin get that fact in his head
Invading peaceful countries is an abominable crime
He should be charged with murder and put away for a long time.
Written 25th February 2022
Santa Claus’s Elves were dancing and singing
Beautiful gifts they were aptly bringing.
Warm fireplace heated the workshop cozy.
Red poinsettia the Christmas posy.
Melodic singing as angels got near.
Highest of high, feature Jesus so dear.
Holy feelings felt by reindeer outside.
Christmas happiness way down deep inside.
Joy, hope, unity and faith in the air.
The presents all wrapped with ultimate care.
Merry Christmas! Santa yelled out so clear.
Gave a squeeze to the wife, Mrs. Claus dear.
December twenty-fourth, a busy night.
I smiled as I watched them fly out of sight!
The Great Lakes Engineering Works built a new boat
S. S. Edmund Fitzgerald, t'would soon be afloat
The people that owned her needed a name
President of the company was given that fame.
One of the largest boats to sail on the Great Lakes
Was a solidly built boat and had what it takes
September twenty fourth nineteen fifty and eight
Was her maiden voyage, laden with freight.
The 'Mighty Fitz' was the nickname they gave her
'Titanic Of The Lakes', sadly that would come later
For years she shipped freight from town to town
Crossing the Great Lakes, left, right, up and down.
The lakes weather worsened in the month of November
Ferocious storm's that would pull ships asunder
That fateful day 'The Fitz' took a route
Sailing to Detroit from a port near Duluth.
A hurricane force storm was heading their way
Other ships took refuge in Whitefish bay
Captain McSorleys last message, " We're holding our own"
What happened thereafter isn't quite known.
The storm battered the boat with thirty foot waves
And sent all her crew to their watery graves
November the tenth, nineteen seventy five
The 'Mighty Fitz' sank, no one did survive.
Lake Superior was where the tragedy occurred
When the news got out, church bells could be heard
The Reverend Ingalls twenty nine times he did toll
For the crew of 'The Mighty Fitz' every lost soul.
A memorial service is held once a year
The bells are tolled, they pray, shed a tear
Stories have been written, and a ballad too
Dedicated to the men of 'The Mighty Fitz' crew.
A Noteworthy Ship Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Ligouri
Written 18.12. 2017
In the Christmas Freeze of 1983
Mama thought she lost her Oleander tree
Some called it a “bush,” but at 14 feet tall
Its shadow cast wide on her home’s southern wall
How she mourned the loss of this beloved plant
She begged the Lord for any blessing He’d grant
The freeze ended soon, though her tree appeared dead
The scent of water each day clung to its bed
On January twenty-fourth, the call came
Dad said mom entered God’s heavenly domain
A neighbor had found her, lying in the yard
Next to remnants of a plant she’d not discard
In May a miracle appeared to occur
The strong plant revived, as if waiting for her
*True occurrence based on my mother’s death, January 24, 1984.
Poem written July 12, 2014
The invasion began on the twenty fourth of February
When in from Belarus came, the filth of humanity
The world soon got to know of their cruel depravities
Each town they invaded, they were guilty of atrocities.
Putin had hoped to announce victory, on the ninth of may
But strong Ukrainian resistance is standing in his way
Helped by the civilised world supplying arms to fight
Now Russia can no longer claim to have military might.
The west imposed heavy sanctions but the war is still raging
Especially in the Donbas region where defenders are engaging
Putin doesn't care for loss of life, to him it doesn't bother
While sending in his conscripts to be used as cannon fodder.
But don't be fooled for one minute and offer them any sympathy
For many of his soldiers have committed, vile acts of atrocity
Murder, rape and lootings have been committed commonplace
Reports of young children being bashed, with rifle butt's in the face.
Buildings shelled and under the rubble many people still alive
The Russian scum wouldn't allow anyone to help them survive
Mobile crematoria used to destroy evidence, of their killing spree
But evidence is being documented for the whole world to see.
Rebuilding all the infrastructure, will take a very long time
And the Russian aggressors must be made to pay, every last dime
Good will always triumph over evil and one day Ukraine will free
And hopefully in time be able to move on, from that awful tragedy.
To all the would be aggressors out there and especially Putin
The civilised world will support freedom and you'll never win
There will be no forgiveness or a route to save face
Humanity owes you nothing, you're an absolute disgrace.
Written on 6th May 2022
True Christmas Miracle True Story Full version written by Wendy Horder. 2020
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
Black and white Advent calendar
I will make you red and green
Haven't you heard the red oleander
Dropping its last leaf for December sheen
Growing up with bullets in the Taliban
Blood spills into the streets of Kashmir
Still the Calendar craves and calls for
Gold, Frankincense and balmy myrrh
Whenever the birds are all gone
Open the crimson card door
See, when the star will return
As the Bethlehem angels soar
In the centre of the white frost
In every cube of icy story
Look at the pink loving bouquet
Smiling to greet the glory
I do remember the pine tree
I had planted on such a day
So that he can keep green
Whether December or May
He will come he will come
Chocolate of assurance in every window
Tender palms and the face handsome
Soft yellow with sunrise glow
Advent box of twenty-fourth December
Leads me to the Angel moonlight
Echoes of the Migdal Eder
Shining star in the ebony night
What is in the last box
Christmas tree or red cherry?
I kept waiting with wonder
Like the child like strawberry
A photo came out depicting Jesus
Almost as a man like we are
With personality as the Mount Everest
And a heart with cucumber care
We will light the waiting candles
Deck up spirited Christmas trees
Lay our ears to the vibrant voice
I come back with the Christmas breeze
The voice rises from the seas and rivers
Also from the stars above
In spite of bullets and pistols
What prevails are his wounds of love
'______________________________________
13/12/2018
Originally published in all poetry.com
Sharing with soup friends here
We are merging and surging, and rapidly purging.
A rich man is buying our company, and he is bringing us backers, and hackers,
Best of all a stash of great cold, hard, green cash.
We are throwing out desks, and we are throwing out chairs.
Some out the window, others down the back stairs.
The money is coming; it will be here by Tuesday.
In the form of a suit, and a man with a new play.
We are merging and surging and rapidly purging.
Millions you say? No, I think more. His name is Matthew McMooters.
Billions perhaps. We will have new computers.
See that old desk? Come help me push.
It will burn up so quick, with a wonderful swoosh.
Did I forget to tell you Old Pat has built a pyre on the twenty-fourth floor?
There are forty employees up there already,
With Tom, Harry, Ann and Freddy.
We are merging and surging and rapidly purging.
Follow me Nick. Follow me Nate.
Let’s go up in the elevator, bring your Mac Eight.
We’ll throw this picture in, this plant, this plate.
The rich guy will be here Tuesday.
With his money hard and smooth.
Come on folks, let’s decide our next move.
A-ccept yourself with joy,
N-ever ever be insecure;
G-od has designed your person,
I-t's the scorn you must
E-ndure.
B-e confident enough,
R-ise and look at the sky;
I-ntensify your certitude,
O-n the twenty-fourth of July.
N-o one compares to you,
E-ven the prettiest on earth;
S-tay strong and happy, accept yourself with mirth.
#84
TEN UP
10^0
Ten to the zero is really just one,
positive power, its a whole, not a part.
We don’t move from the decimal,
it’s just where we start.
10^3
Ten cubed, or a kilo,
when dealing in drugs.
It’s a measure in metrics,
it’s the math of the thugs.
10^6
Ten to the sixth, or one million we say,
a number so big, you truly will cringe.
It’s the needed storeage for data,
we’ll use to stream in a binge.
10^9
Ten to the ninth! A billion or look...
it’s near the wealth of Bill Gates.
He’s fifty times this base and exponent,
let’s buy his stock at the lowest rates.
10^12
Ten to the twelfth, a trillion, so great!
In the Lascaux caves with ancient heart,
it’s the number of years,
since they painted this art.
10^15
Ten to the fifteenth, a quadrillion for scale,
one hundred seventy light-years, is this.
We could travel to Kappa Andromedae b,
a Super Jupiter planet, we’d not wanna miss.
10^18
Ten to the eighteenth, just a quintillion!
It’s all for the counting in our niche,
in molecules, for one drop of water,
or gains of sand on one beach.
10^ 21
Ten to the twenty-first, or sextillion, not less,
while counting this high to figure it out.
It’s the stars in the universe,
in total, on their misty nebula route.
10^24
Ten to the twenty-fourth, septillion the count.
It’s a layer of dollars covering the ground,
a blanket of money, each inch of the earth,
a kilometer thick, and easily found.
10^-3 and falling...
Be glad I didn’t go this other way,
with negative exponents dividing so small.
A ten raised to three, going left to a minus,
to Planck scale and shrinking, to nothing at all.
Given the powers of ten for such ease,
dividing with negatives, or growing in positives.
You’ll find you won’t need to write so many zeros,
when grappling big numbers and their causatives.
When meeting the sciences with powers of ten,
then quite easily, you’ll see all the fun!
Writing scales of the universe, or quantum realms,
in plus or minus, starting with zero, or one.
-Edlynn Nau
©April 2, 2019
For anyone trying to understand huge numbers!
Inspired by Neil deGrasse Tyson, and by students trying to
make sense of scale.
Morning comes
these eyes too heavy to wake
not knowing did they even sleep
all night writing
of those lips
brushing gently across my cheeks
rough drafts no longer remembered
after the twenty-fourth toast to your kiss
this mind's amiss
the well's gone dry
and I'm parched
silence echos thru the stillness
as I keep on mouthing your name
too many days are wasted
waiting for the right one to come
let me be your moon
a reflection off you and your sun
what is, what was, what's done
no more, no less
nothing to expect
The snow is gently drifting down,
Not like two days ago,
When it was blowing sideways,
In a heavy dump of snow.
All the snow had melted.
The birds are coming back.
The flowers just now breaking ground,
And this dumps in our lap.
My lilies were up almost a foot.
Now they're laying flat.
I put some paper over them,
Hoping they'll come back.
The paper bags I used were large.
I made for them a tent.
I propped them up and prayed for them.
Poor things were limp and bent.
It's now April twenty-fourth,
And snow is drifting down,
Covering trees and flower beds,\
And blanketing the ground.
The weather man said we'd have rain.
We got cold wet snow.
Guess when Alberta is your home,
You just go with the flow.
A tribute on the twenty-fourth is paid
To pioneers who came here one July,
Then stopped in Salt Lake’s valley, where they stayed.
A tribute on the twenty-fourth is paid
To those who died; to those who lived and made
A Zion out of land both hot and dry.
A tribute on the twenty-fourth is paid
To pioneers who came here one July.
Like Christmas in July, this holiday,
Is celebrated with a huge parade.
The businesses are closed; the people play.
Like Christmas in July, this holiday
Is time for family, and good folks pray
That thoughts of those who sacrificed won’t fade.
Like Christmas in July, this holiday,
Is celebrated with a huge parade!
For "Where in the world" Poetry Contest
of Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
No citizen has become a politician and no politician was not a citizen
That is Right Of Citizenship which is the fourteen amendment
I think legislature and parliament does the best they can under the
Circumstance but it comes a point of Leader and what know as Leadership
And the quantity of standard know of citizen which is the
Twenty Fourth Amendment
Individualistic and character define once culture it is what makes
A colonel a state to separation standard of parliament and if not
True the minimum wage would raise for all states what is the true agenda
For some!
Take the first col ligate marching band of 1907 Chicago one band one sound
Let take 1932 of Four Freedoms I bare witness to say history does repeat it
Self and oh how they march on capital hill for Freedom Of Speech oh how some may disagree with E sports it may lead the way to new ligate law to set to place
TO question all that is discuss just for a moment question what is
Populist.
A-fter a storm comes a calm,
I-t's a natural phenomenon;
L-et not your mind worry
E-ven about hostile horizon.
N-ot all days are stormy, tomorow shall be sunny;
E-ither eye doesn't cry, both instead feel the glee.
T-ry to silently think
O-f the fresh morning light;
L-et your sleep be sound,
E-merging after the night.
D-ay twenty-fourth October, gladly sing hymn and psalm;
O-pen your heart to the Lord, after a storm comes a calm.