Long Angola Poems
Long Angola Poems. Below are the most popular long Angola by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Angola poems by poem length and keyword.
Luanda 1975
It was a fraught time in Luanda, the rebel army (freedom fighters)
was closing in on Luanda, leaving civilians exposed
to rape, murder and pillage.
The Portuguese army had dastardly skulked away and
General Spinola was in Lisbon playing politics
Colonialism was over, but there was fear of its ending
when hatred had to be sated.
Among the white population, there was a fatalistic mien
drowning their fear like the sinking Titanic, loud music, booze
and dancing, everything to live a little longer.
Then came the Germans (foreign legion) took charge
staved off the incoming, undisciplined riff-raff army
long enough for people to get on ships and planes to get
the hell out; as for the Germans found their way out to
South Africa.
The aftermath:
When hatred of the colonials subsided, the new Angola
found they needed the know-how of the settlers they
were invited back.
Today, thousands of Portuguese live to thrive in harmony
with the black population,
"American Montra" Made Dyce"You Can:t be Syrus"
Dantresser submit to his "Dragonhamner" Claw
At 7:05 in Quebec to become the Canadian heavyweight Champion.
Visiting stars from China and Angola were
Presented awards from the international
Busy fund, Handsome Stan Kuerer took exception
To the event, and challenged the Visitors
To a tag match against he, and a partner
Of his choosing,the visters excepted
And the Promter of the region disallowed
The Handsome Stan Kuerer to team with
His fellow stable mate And order
Him to team with Asu Amoriz "the Tention
Senncion". The match ended @12:01
When. Asu pinned the China national champion
Following an off the toprope belly to belly..
I have waited so long to compose a new song; I have waited so long for you to come along. Time is setting fire underneath my feet; time is igniting a motion in the third degree; time is raking up the dust and everyone is getting ready to board the bus.
The sun is setting fire to my mind and the journey from mega peak to California is divine .
I am walking in a straight line and the clouds in Angola are dancing about causing the people to run and shout. What on earth has gone wrong?
The Angolans are chanting a mournful song today they are here tomorrow they are there and the wind is blowing through the trees and moving across the hemisphere littering the avenue and the streets.
They have been waiting for fifteen years underneath the trees on a political promise that had no legs but it came in time when Obama had something to sell and nothing to tell.
Sixty-three thousand of them waited in the bush living in the wilds honey all day with nothing to cook, they survive every day on water and grain to enter America visa free but the promise was not fulfilled.
A new administration came along and everyone was singing a different song and the deal died peacefully in the bushes.
The new administration began to shout and the bush people’s fate was worse than before. They were tossed in different directions, and forced out of the woods to go and fend for themselves.
The sick and destitute start moving around in crotches and long gowns, and the old and feeble trod along praying to Allah in the woods but time propels them in different direction and the Americans watch from the big screen an epitaph of a broken promise lying among the trees and the promise was covered with dirt and those that survived moved boldly with courage to another place.
I have waited so long for you to come along to listen to your story of how you escaped from glory,
I have waited for so long to have a decent shower and walk in the book shops to feast my eyes on new literature.
I want to look at some focused recipe and the ingredients that is mixed with dusts and those that cause you to fuss. A combination of truths will draw a fine line around those terrific boots.
I have waited for so long to compose this song so meet me underneath the tree and sing along with me.
Welcome To The Party
Written by: D. Collins 9/8/14
Welcome to the party black, white, yellow, and brown.
Where you can get “Hippy” and let your hair down.
Treat it just like it’s another “Woodstock”.
Come in, just blend, and turn this party out.
Welcome to the party from New Orleans to L.A.
Those in Angola, and those in Pelican Bay.
All are welcome, we’re going to “set it off”.
Some food, spirit, and knowledge for all ’o ya’ll.
Welcome to the party, where some jazz may kick in.
And, before the song’s over you’ll holla “play that again”.
There’ll be good conversation, and the sweet, smell of myrrh.
People from all over the globe joined as brothers and sisters.
Welcome to the party, we’re just getting started.
Those who want drama should have already departed.
This party’s not for them. They don’t possess what it takes.
The uncanny ability to see far, beyond hate.
Written By: D. Collins 2/15/25
We all did grime to survive back in the day.
Some go caught up, while some of us got away.
I place no judgement on whatever it takes to eat.
By Any Means Necessary, put toys under the tree.
Back in the day snitches didn't exist.
A bid in Angola was a slap on the wrist.
You just come out the way you went in.
A man amongst the most ruthless of men.
And, if repetition is what puts food on your plate.
Do what you do, just like back in the day.
How they live uptown is how you strive to live.
And, whatever it takes, a man feeds his kids.
These weak attempts at verse could not be droller.
Your stuff is less inviting than ebola
(but not as catchy). Wordier than Emil Zola,
you haven’t got the steam to be a roller.
I’ve seen more cutting-edge in Pepsi-Cola.
You clearly honed your style in Fuengirola.
About as challenging as last year’s “¡Hola!”
(I’m sure you’re highly thought of in Angola.)
But that aside, I need a favour, mate.
The flood of would-be Shakespeares is in spate.
I’d like you to review – that is, donate
your time and talent (at the going-rate,
which happens to be zero.) Desecrate
the pricks who prattle, and the prigs who prate.
Denounce, detract. Indulge that gelding hate
that wells in all of us. The cut-off date
is looming, so get hacking. Don’t be late!
These vain attempts at verse could not be droller.
Your stuff is less inviting than ebola
(and not as catchy). Wordier than Emil Zola,
you haven’t got the steam to be a roller.
I’ve seen more cutting-edge in Pepsi-Cola.
You clearly honed your style in Fuengirola.
About as challenging as last year’s “¡Hola!”
(I’m sure you’re highly thought of in Angola.)
But that aside, I need a favour, mate.
The flood of would-be Spensers is in spate.
I’d like you to review – that is, donate
your time and talent (at the going-rate,
which happens to be zero.) Desecrate
the pricks who prattle, and the prigs who prate.
Denounce, detract. Indulge that gelding hate
that wells in all of us. The cut-off date
is looming, so get hacking. Don’t be late!
Stories, stories through window of a khaki jeep
jigsaw puzzle fits history and herstory together
novellas or rifles flash to extract verse in a peep
abandoned in the heather, part of white feathers
Masculine and feminine each reach to teach
skills managed by Mother, she’s on the beach
her middle-aged body flaps this way and that
dewy eyes opened to sea shells under straw hat
Stories, stories blow on sand this way and that
unrelinquished trauma, turmoil then terrible trials
including truth accounts, reconciliations with cats
behold Mother’s wrinkles, fat toes on beach miles
Detachment receives five silver stars and more
go to super centre, there files lie, raw is the core
in the Universe all things are near or super far
we can march with passion or drive in jeep or car
Stories, stories blood split over his wide palms
he was a Cuban doctor in Angola, you see
African toddlers roamed free, he was their balm
visions with medical supplies for malaria, no fee
Mother walked the wet tents with paper and pen
no beach was there then just a couple of hens
they studied broken bones on the veld floor sore
stories masculine or feminine enjoy some more
~~~~~~~~<<<~~~~~~~~~~~
"American Montra" Made Dyce"You Can:t be Syrus"
Dantresser submit to his "Dragonhamner" Claw
At 7:05 in Quebec to become the Canadian heavyweight Champion.
Visiting stars from China and Angola were
Presented awards from the international
Busy fund, Handsome Stan Kuerer took exception
To the event, and challenged the Visitors
To a tag match against he, and a partner
Of his choosing,the visters excepted
And the Promter of the region disallowed
The Handsome Stan Kuerer to team with
His fellow stable mate And order
Him to team with Asu Amoriz "the Tention
Senncion". The match ended @12:01
When. Asu pinned the China national champion
Following an off the toprope belly to belly..
The official time of the bout has been disputed due to the edited footage, that started prior to the official beganning referee BigDaddy Fritez didn't enter the ring until 1:56, this means the official time for the bout is 9:01.
"American Montra" Made Dyce"You Can:t be Syrus"
Dantresser submit to his "Dragonhamner" Claw
At 7:05 in Quebec to become the Canadian heavyweight Champion.
Visiting stars from China and Angola were
Presented awards from the international
Busy fund, Handsome Stan Kuerer took exception
To the event, and challenged the Visitors
To a tag match against he, and a partner
Of his choosing,the visters excepted
And the Promter of the region disallowed
The Handsome Stan Kuerer to team with
His fellow stable mate And order
Him to team with Asu Amoriz "the Tention
Senncion". The match ended @12:01
When. Asu pinned the China national champion
Following an off the toprope belly to belly..