Long Algeria Poems
Long Algeria Poems. Below are the most popular long Algeria by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Algeria poems by poem length and keyword.
I was qualified in middle eastern history,
which was a waste at the chemist it seemed to me,
however, I saw an advert to become a spy,
Instead of media, thought that I would give it a try.
I had a light brown colour, useful for blending scenery,
knowledge of languages should make me fit in perfectly;
they asked me tricky-dicky questions - was I C - of - E,
I said that I was whatever they wanted me to be.
Soon, I was monitoring 'traffic,' to and fro from Syria,
Yemen, Afghanistan, Iraq, Tunisia, Luton and Algeria;
Forget the romance - no time to look at my ornaments,
even missing tv - 'Holby City' and 'Eastenders' instalments.
One day I woke up and thought that I was dead,
moments later, I felt a cold steel at the back of my head.
*Image of Globe Earth Map Of The World by Pixabay.
The Geo-Whiz
It is my second day in high school and I had signed up for Geography.
Nearing the end, our teacher gave a simple pop quiz test
... guessing that she was gauging us. She said to get out
our pens and paper and list down the alphabet's on the
left side of our paper.
She stands next to the classroom globe pointing at it and told us to write down any place on there that we may know about, except Hawaii, then write our answers to the corresponding alphabets on our list.
I live out in the country, far from the village high school.
We have no electricity but an AM transistor radio, basically,
it's entertainment for the adults. Now, that left us kids to
do whatnots. Mines was reading ... comics to encyclopedias.
(The completed tests were turned in, graded, and returned.)
Marked in red, she gave me 99% and an A.
The lunch bell rang and I went to her desk and said that she made an error and that she had crossed out my 'O' and replaced it with an 'I'.
I told her, "I did not write about a country but about a city in
Algeria that is larger than Honolulu." After showing her that
place on the globe, she changed my grade to 100% and an A+.
In regards to that correction, just add 'ran' to those alphabets to know what had occurred.
2021 July 02
Men of cloth
Men of faith
Against all evils, lost hopes
Choose the light and will of the gods
They stay
Where all others flea
They reflect upon lost causes
Yet give of heart and sweat to the poor
They are not brave hearts
They are but kind souls
To the last breathe
Weep not for these heroes
The village adores and praises
For kindness transcends religious teachings
To cure and heal is god's gift
And natures way of life eternal
Pascal’s wager in the minds of a few
As old men contemplate
Wildflowers who by the grace of god, receive the sun
So in fate, planted, they stay, they do not run
They are not the last or only
They are but the hope of what can be
They reflect the goodness we all desire
In love of mankind
Des hommes et des dieux, dedicated to the Trappist monks who lived in harmony with the largely Muslim population of Algeria, until seven of them were kidnapped and assassinated in 1996 during the Algerian Civil War.
Weep not Africa
Cradle of civilization
I created you on a Monday morning
You are no less my first born
Than other races
Though other nations might scorn and despise you
You are the heir to my throne
Have you ever stopped to look inward?
How long will you continue to ignore
The beauty that lies within?
I have planted nature in you
Your greenness no man can take away
I have bestowed you with endless sunshine
I have made your land more fertile than any other
I have endowed you with some of the world's
Greatest mineral resources
Who planted the gold and diamond in South Africa?
What about the oil in Nigeria and Algeria?
What about the cocoa in Ghana?
And the rich coffee in the East?
Weep not Africa
Unity and selfless service are what exalts a nation
Look how much was pillaged from you
Where did they not plunder?
But I have replenished you
Africa! Yours is a well that never runs dry!
In the deserts of Arabia, Medina had many Hebrews
And Khaybar Oasis was full of farms run by Jews.
To this day Muslims shout Khaybar, defeating Jews hits a chord
Because Mohammed took both places by the power of the sword
After his death Muslim armies took more
Palestine, Syria, Turkey, and that just opened the door
Then they took parts of Persia and Central Asia, these fearsome men
It's hard to believe Egypt and North Africa were Christian back then
Muslims on a roll took Morocco, Algeria and Spain
They did this for the sake of Allah, not for monetary gain
They conquered much of the subcontinent, was it genocide?
Hindus, Sikhs, and Buddhists claim that millions died.
Today, Jihadists wage war from Nigeria to Mozambique
Islam is on the rise, other religions seem quite weak
You don't hear your local church crying for African dead
Their priorities are more parochial, even progressive instead.
Islam also spreads in peaceful ways, I don't want to deceive
Traders have spread the message of the prophet whom they believe
But what strikes me is that Muslims whose ancestors may have been Christians or Jews
When polled today, express missionary views.
It interesting too to see Islam collide with Chinese rule
The Uighurs are being digested; the process very cruel
Nonetheless, Iran and Pakistan all want China's aid
At least for now they're willing to make that moral trade.
History is often made by the tip of the spear
A minority of extremists can maintain and spread the fear
The Koran does say there is no compulsion in belief
But in practice, that Arabian gazelle has teeth.
Even here in the West, if you draw a blasphemous cartoon
Never mind paper freedoms, your end is likely soon.
I scribbled quickly
As they wrote their final exam
Little notes of appreciation
A special individualized message
Thanking each student
For having been in my class
And for bringing me joy
Reminding each one
Of the potential that lies within
For each is a remarkable individual
A personalized message
Of encouragement
And a shared Bible verse
Psalm 37: 4
This was a special class
Made up of pastors
A journalist
An architect
Adults from different walks of life
Some married
Others single
Some shy
Others bold
All wanting to become
Better writers
What an amazing group
My French came in handy
With my students from Algeria
How I loved their French accent
As they tried to pronounce
The bothersome words in English
Leaving a never ending smile on my lips
After they spent an hour writing
I made them pause
To have home baked brownies
I’d made from scratch
Along with a soft drink
A time to relax…
Refreshed
They continued on their essays
And I decorated each note
With stickers
“Great Work”
“Way to Go”
“Excellent”
“You are a Star”
And for the women
Lots of hearts!
I love hearts
They decorate my office
Pillows
Key rings
Earrings
And now
My little notes
Which came straight from my heart
Each one got to exchange the finished essay
For a handwritten note from the teacher
I said with a sheepish grin
“These stickers are not because you are a child….
But…because I am!
I am a child at heart!"
That brought smiles
And a hug from
The journalist from Brazil
“I’m going to cry,” she said.
As she gave me a bear hug
My heart sang
They had learned to love writing
What greater joy could be mine?
The Brazilian journalist
Met me in church last Sabbath,
Gave me another warm hug and said,
“Teacher, thank you for the note
You inspired me to do my best.”
And what she couldn’t articulate well
Sparkled in her eyes
And danced in her hand motions
Silly little stickers
Simple little words
A whole lot of love
Love for my students
EVERYONE needs some encouragement
Everyone needs to know
That inside the heart resides
A wealth of beauty longing to be expressed
A piece of the soul that longs to live forever
In the written word
I thank God I’m a teacher
After all,
I’m in good company
For, the GREATEST Teacher of all time
Jesus Christ
Is my mentor!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
France…
Listen!!
You were once an empire —
Your shadow stretching across continents,
But not in love, not in light,
Only in blood, only in brutality.
You came not with gifts,
But with guns and chains,
Your hands red with conquest,
Your heart void of remorse.
I walked the fields of Algeria,
And I saw them —
Three women,
Stripped of dignity,
Breasts cut off by your soldiers,
Their spirits still cry on the winds of June 14, 1830.
"What wrong did we do?" they whisper.
But no answer comes.
I passed through Madagascar,
Where you slaughtered without shame.
Men torn from the earth,
Children buried in silence,
Mothers shattered.
They still scream beneath the soil.
You left no mercy.
In Vietnam,
You raped, you burned,
You desecrated the dreams of the innocent.
Those little ones —
With soot in their lungs and fear in their bones —
Still wander the spirit world,
Asking: “Why?”
France!
Do not pretend amnesia.
I am God. I remember.
Every tear, every scream,
Every drop of blood you spilled for profit and pride.
And you, melanated children of the South,
Listen carefully.
Where there is no remorse,
There is no repentance.
France has not changed.
The same soul that colonized still calculates in silence.
Do not be deceived.
Even your own—President Jacques Chirac confessed:
> “Without Africa, France will slide into the rank of a third world country.”
He spoke truth.
Not wisdom — truth born of fear.
Because without theft,
France cannot survive.
But now—
The Earth shifts.
The winds of the Global South rise.
The forgotten are now awakened.
And justice, like a lion, walks forward.
Your time is over, France.
Those you exploited shall speak.
They will demand justice,
And no military, no nuclear threat,
No polished lie in the halls of Geneva
Will protect you.
Because I, the Watcher of Ages,
Have recorded all.
I do not forget.
France, kneel.
Confess. Repent.
Or face the fury of the prayers
You thought I never heard.