Long Agitating Poems
Long Agitating Poems. Below are the most popular long Agitating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Agitating poems by poem length and keyword.
MLK recruited teens to march in demonstrations in Birmingham, AL. Due to ADULTS
would not be influenced to march by his speeches. Fire Water hoses were turned on
the disobedient teens at a high power that rolled them down streets and over cars,
tore their shirts off, while MLK Jr sat safe in jail, writing letters.
Twenty-four hours after his arrest, King was allowed to see local attorneys from the
SCLC. When Coretta Scott King did not hear from her husband, she called Walker,
and he suggested that she call President Kennedy directly.[48] Mrs. King was
recuperating at home after the birth of their fourth child when she received a call
from President Kennedy the Monday after the arrest. The president told her she could
expect a call from her husband soon. When Martin Luther King called his wife, their
conversation was brief and guarded; he correctly assumed that his phones were
tapped.[49] Several days later, Jacqueline Kennedy called Coretta Scott King to
express her concern for King while he was incarcerated.[18]
While in jail on April 16, King released his "Letter from Birmingham Jail", written on
the margins of a newspaper, scraps of paper given to him by a janitor, and later a
legal pad given by his SCLC attorneys. The letter responded to eight politically
moderate white clergymen who accused King of agitating local residents, and not
giving the incoming mayor a chance to make any changes. Bass suggested
that "Letter from Birmingham Jail" was pre-planned, as was every move King and his
associates made in Birmingham. The essay was a culmination of many of King's
ideas, which he had touched on in earlier writings.[50] King's arrest attracted
national attention, including that of corporate officers of retail chains with stores in
downtown Birmingham.
(I got his info. from wikepedia) I was not born until after his life ended--so I really
did not know anything about MLK Jr.. I thought this was interesting, his wife and
children were home. Others put themselves in danger for the cause.
Form:
In between the prayers of a million words and emotions
To the God in the sky, statues and pictures stuck on walls,
Looking out for some signs of their existence,
Constantly asking for the solutions to the difficulties absorbing me,
I pity my parents, the God that brought me to Earth.
Perpetually asking for my take in life, my plans, my aim,
Encouraging me when I am lost, hiding their own loss ,
They doubt my ideals, my proposition,
Doubting themselves in their acts of bringing me up.
They see me failing, depressed and succumbing to the consequences of failure,
And they come, encourage me with a filtered smile and confidence,
They narrate the chronicles of success, struggles and experiences of hard work,
And convince me that defeats are just part of life.
"Each fall make you rise higher, till you reach where your destiny resides,
Therefore do not worry, have faith and be diligent", they tell.
They are more skilled with life, they have seen asperity
They have seen problems and have found leads to solve them
They see the inarticulate words and concerns of mine,
They know the sensitivity, the fears that brings me down.
But they do not know, I too comprehend them all
Their anxieties, worries and dubiety of their methods,
Their frustration, their urge to see my mind
Their patience to wait for me to speak out my conception,
Their filtered emotions, their plastic smiles,
Their perpetual ways to procure my intend so they can aid,
Their endeavours to keep me going, keep me bucked up.
I see them all, but I am helpless,
As I am a question without an answer,
I am still vexed to rise after the falls,
Still scared to choose a path,
Dread trailing me like my shadow,
Mind dense with gratuitous beliefs,
Heart brimming with suppressed opinions,
My escalating wrath, annoyance and the agitating soul,
But I am their kid, I have their blood in my veins,
I inherit their ways of forcing a grin,
I too show them, there is nothing to fret,
I am all sorted, and on my way to the goal that I still need to find.
K.S.Lakshmi
WAITING
We humans have a lot of practice waiting…
let’s stop and think this through…
for the first nine months of our life…waiting is all we do.
We spend that time inside our mother’s womb…
blissfully floating about…
while our parents spend the same nine months
waiting to greet us when we come out.
We spend a good deal of time in our crib…waiting…
searching the world above…
becoming familiar with the faces of those we will learn to love.
We wait till our bodies are ready…then we begin to crawl…
We can’t wait till we’re ready to walk…
which is why, at first, we often fall.
As parents we can’t wait for our children to start talking…
for their first words to drop…
Then there are those days, when they’re incessant talking…
we can’t wait for them to stop.
When you think about our life…call it destiny, serendipity or fate…
we are faced with a multitude of circumstances…where we are expected to wait.
We wait for a movie to begin…
sometimes we wait, in life, for a sign….
We wait for the traffic light to change…
and how often do we wait in line.
We wait for the seasons to change…
this wait, at times can be agitating…
(In Florida when it comes changing seasons…suffice it say…we’re still waiting).
When wishing to buy that car, house or clothes…
we wait to see if we can afford the cost….
Sometimes we wait for a final outcome…
to see if we have won…or we have lost.
We wait for loved ones at the airport…
sometimes they wait for us too…
We wait…once we find the right person…
for the moment to say ‘I do’.
We wait to open our presents…
they may bring us a laugh…a smile…a tear..
We wait for the doctor to tell us…news we are hoping to hear.
It’s amazing when it comes to waiting…
there is one fact we cannot ignore…
The time we wait can seem fast…or slow…
depending on who or what we’re waiting for.
I imagine waiting, whether easy or hard,
in the end can make us all a little bit stronger….
and for those of you who can’t wait for this poem to end…
you needn’t wait any longer.
Patradoot or The Messenger24 /Many
English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor
Originally written in Hindi by my
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Here only have born great freedom fighters,
Like Malviya* and Tandon*,
Who have raised the honor of our country,
By their extra ordinary deeds and sacrifices.
The splendors of India’s freedom revolution,
Will fascinate you every where, dear letter,
Batches of citizens, mad with patriotism,
You will find here and there and everywhere.
You will find my beloved in the front row,
Of the woman groups agitating for India’s freedom,
Keeping your attention on these women,
When you will move ahead, my dear letter.
You will see my beloved wife,
Being mad for India’s freedom with others,
By seeing her only, you too would be charmed,
In the color of patriotism for the nation, dear letter.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 30h July 2010 to continue in 25
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
• Malviya Madan Mohan Malviya was a great scholar & the founder of
Banaras Hindu University known as BHU. He was a great freedom fighter also
• Tandon Purshotamdas Tandon was another great scholar & a freedom fighter who
contributed his entire life for Hindi language and for the nation.
Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
has any question or queries, they can
send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com
Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my father late
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932, when he was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994.
amphetamines acquaintanceship assuages
agonizing aches also advocates amorousness
assiduously activating admiration
aggressive attacks assault afoul
affable affinity and affectionadumbration
anatomical accidental addiction attested as academic,
although afterward abnegation absolutely arduous,
affianced attired apparently as an anomaly
Ares and Abyssinian Astarte admixture
acquiescence affliction affected adroitly,
and abruptly abends accessible
altruistic alms axed
albeit admonishing, alluding,
and attributing authored
autonomous anonymous adroit arriviste agents
accompanying as accomplished accomplices
accredited ace advertisers
applaud ascendent assaults amidst agonizing appeals
acting all acrimoniously apropos
avowedly ardently, and antagonistically, agitating
appositely advocating ancillary assistance
addict adrift afloat anchors away
along, among, and an alias archenemy -
adorned abominable assassin alters ambition
adroitly, aggressively, absolutely
addict announces asseveration
against avid admonishment
alarmingly annulling authentic affiliation
anew anonymous ability acclaims alignment
aegis actually adversarial abetting attrition appetite
acceleration ascendent after aplenty anesthetization
additionally activating arced analogous arrow
advancing added abdominal and arterial agony
abject ambivalence arrests accomplishments attainable
any artistic avocation absconded
asper auditorial approbation, animadversion
artificial aggrandizement abrogates astuteness
appropriate adjudication affronted
alternative afforded amnesty about acing audioslave
as ambition assumes arriviste affectation
already appalling alacrity awakens amendment
although Awol administration adamant
acrimonious affront agonizingly attributable
announces another afterworld
apparent ailing apparition
ardent allegiance asking anyone appreciable affix
apathy abounds attending apriorism allotment.
Cold shower today - (early afternoon)
September eighth two thousand
and nineteen more challenging than June
dog days of summer test tolerance
to feel alive and bark at the moon
hypothetically imagining myself
alone in the (suburban) wilderness
fabricating, envisioning crossing pontoon
bridge while humming nonsense tune.
Jolt to body electric induces zing
unlike missus who cannot wing
subjecting her sensitive skin
versus modest bragging
rights of this faux king
please pas din me boasting,
but perhaps explanation
I shower without hot water
linkedin to aging.
Which (no matter cumulative
chronological orbitz around sun
just a number), the fleeting
passage of years doth stun
more so forces me to assess
mein kampf, retrospective
devoid of nothing merit but pun
hushing disappointment plus
self deprivation of fun.
Alas within narrowly
circumscribed realm stale
stagnation doth prevail,
I easily overwhelm
courtesy panic attacks of this male
bred avoidance behavior
(cue Pavlov's dog) hearty and hale
trained to withdraw
from challenging tasks
markedly pronounced when fail
my middle name,
where besieged psyche doth ail.
Fatherhood, albeit necessitated taking ace
sip of courage, sometimes
adept to chase
fear of unfamiliar, though
never totally erase
sing passive behavior
I attest infrequently to face
anxiety inducing situations
poise zenned clowns
feign amazing grace
me convulsing with intimidation
agitating, flinching, recoiling...
retreating into isolated place
while profuse sweat drips
from every porous space
heart beat does madly race
despite absence of any threat
exhaustion spent without
factual, logical, rational... trace.
Time and again work fraught
self into lather for naught
recurring soap opera taught
me impossible mission
to rinse figurative suds
unlike showering/washing hair,
whereby cleansing wrought.
It is good to be a fool once in a while,
What an extraordinary feeling to be a fool!
To know nothing,
To know everything,
Yet not convincing your heart—The most brilliant buffoon,
Letting your heart float like a boat
Without an anchor
In the middle of a lake illuminated by the half moon that looks like a piece fallen from something ethereal,
Vision yourself in that boat, dear reader,
Doing nothing but just letting that moon’s love
Lurk on your lips
While you yearn earnestly
With your eyes closed like the petals of a timid lotus,
I encourage you to be a fool with me.
The river of reverie might reduce the roughness of abrasive reality of existence,
The vastness,
The long blank whiteness of life—
The 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s
Of age are indeed agitating,
Colorless at times,
There are rainbows too,
But mostly it's white, serene and quite like a pearl or a marble.
Some people ensnare their hearts,
They think heart is some petty prisoner,
But when the boon of life comes to an end
The truth hits them in the chest
And the chains ensnaring the heart
Come gushing down with a roar like a waterfall,
Sudden and loud.
Chained hearts often become hoarse hazards,
Chained and always chasing,
But chasing what
You never know.
Heart is a bird,
A brave one
Like all birds,
But let me remind you something, dear reader,
Do you ever notice the birds looking at the sky and singing soft melodies,
The melodies they don't sing when they are soaring high in the sky?
Birds need a bower too to rest and rejuvenate,
They don't have to adorn an armour on their chiselled chest all the time,
It's just not natural,
It doesn't seem right,
So take my hand and come be a fool with me
Or just be a bird and fly freely.
Your soul is nesting your heart,
Let down the gloomy guard,
Nurture the nest
And give it a rest.
The Dark Side of October
Late October moon is waking, through this cemetery shaking,
shaking as the cold wind breaking, walking ‘neath an old oak tree.
Stones like sentries undertaking, guarding graves as hearts are aching,
aching for the still ones staking, such an eerie sight to see –
dark and dreary, I’m so leery, such an eerie sight to see –
is this but a reverie?
In the graveyard shadows shimmer, dark of night is growing dimmer,
dimmer still without a glimmer, shadows ‘round the old oak tree.
Shadows dancing ever nearer, nearer still and getting clearer,
clearer like distorted mirror, twisting ghastly sight to see –
growing vastly, looming lastly, such a ghastly sight to see –
certainly a reverie?
Piercing sounds are penetrating, ear drums deafening pulsating,
ringing louder, devastating, echoes off the old oak tree.
Echoes bouncing screeching grating, ever louder agitating,
instigating, fears creating, from this ghoulish sight to see –
Am I mulish, maybe foolish, such a ghoulish sight to see –
surely just a reverie?
In the dark my head is spinning, round and round these sights imprinting,
fusing on my brain beginning, questioning my sanity.
All these sights and sounds are weighing, weighing as the ghouls are playing
playing as they do their preying, preying on my vanity –
I am praying, ghouls are swaying, preying on my vanity –
have I lost my sanity?
Eerie night just seems persisting, lasting as my mind is twisting,
waiting for daylight’s assisting, lighting up the old oak tree.
Eerie sights and sounds now fading, dark of night for daylight trading,
light of day is now invading, leaving me to clearly see –
seeing nearly, life so dearly, oh so clearly now I see –
must have been a reverie…..
or have I lost my sanity?
July 26, 2018
"I read the news today, oh boy" - Beatles
apocalyptic revelations spinning 'round inside my head/have me tossing keep me turning wide awake upon my bed/so much hating too much lying chaos just outside my door/brainwashed zombies from their pulpits spewing vitriol and more/horsemen riding children dying famine warfare take their toll/politicians see their ratings drop in value with each poll/earth is battered lives are shattered bombs and land mines maim or kill/ Satan laughing spreads his wings as mankind wallows in his swill/locusts gather then they scatter out to spread the word of doom/news crawls flash across the telly in the safety of my room/insurrection tribulation agitating anxious minds/weary travelers seeking refuge thus fulfill prophetic signs/lift your heads up never give up soon will come the final fight/Armageddon's day of judgment soon will set all matters right
"Run to the hills, run for your lives" - Iron Maiden
broken trams cause traffic jams that clog the streets and alleyways/people running seeking shelter for it's now the end of days/can you hide us will you save us from the wrath of Christ the king/every day yes everywhere we hear his judgment message ring/ law defying God offending wicked men now merit death/liars rapists pedophiles blaspheme with their dying breath/peace they cry out strife they mete out hypocrites will face their end/frogs keep croaking propaganda via media it wends/retribution’s in all creatures causing some to turn on man/seven-headed beastlike monster marches to the Devil’s plan/Babylon with all her daughters sing a song of treachery/to their gods they give allegiance - spiritistic witchery/when the end comes have we earned some merit with the One who reigns/future blessings in the offing paradise will end all pain
“Amen. Come Lord Jesus” – Bible
With the cross purposes of taking up the slack of my composition and by the way taking some snacks as well, I dragged my feet into the Mc Donald restaurant and randomly picked a seat at a corner on the second floor. Somehow having omitted both handset preordering and spot ordering, I took out my mobile phone shillyshally and began to flip through the pages of my writing drafts stored in it. Stingy spacing skimping font size, small screen seizing my sight, both made these passages look drearier and drearier. Confused conception lingering in mind, affected appetite agitating my stomach, both made me feel more and more ill at ease. My visions were roving from boredom to barrenness, my vibes groping between darkness and disorientation. The delicate doodle patterns painted on the wall cannot help out my stranded inspiration; The fresh drafts circulating around the well air-conditioned hall cannot purge the surly stuffiness surrounding my clogged contemplation. Concomitant was a sense of subsidence and stagnation locking onto me and homing in on me step by step. I got to realize it was not just my frame of mind, but the whole frame of physique that were getting enormously encumbered. My hapless buttocks, deeply sagged into the chair and saddled with all these encumbrances, were bearing their full brunt and an ensuing torturous sensation of being tightly pinned while finding no way to dodge this undeserved vicarious punishment that was actually derived from either the smothered smolder of my dining velleity or the snagged threads of my conceptive clues, or rather from both......
Read as double Dutch
my fuddled ideas cost much
without going Dutch