Long Arizona Poems

Long Arizona Poems. Below are the most popular long Arizona by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Arizona poems by poem length and keyword.


The Immigrants

The Immigrants

By

Elton Camp

Mexican man, father of three
Feed, clothe them, would he.
But a job is not to be found.
Not in his own hometown.

To the north he will go
Jobs to get, he’s heard so.
Come here you cannot do
We will welcome but few

Far beyond the Rio Grande
Lies a virtual promised land
But he must ignore the rule
And give his life unto a mule

Pay to him his very last peso
Trust in the mule’s say so.
Into a van a crowd to pack
Enough food & water lack

Across the miles of barren dirt
Perhaps to be killed, surely hurt.
If he is lucky and isn’t caught,
He may find the work he sought.

If any income tax he dares to pay
The INS will soon come his way
Their demand on him is very hard
Must show us now your green card

We find your morals low & weak
Because English you cannot speak
To hear you jabber in that Spanish
We deem to be so much outlandish

We hate the darkness of your skin
Never can you be an equal friend
Explain to us why you ‘re so short
And for all your faults, we will deport

You may not get a house on our street
Likes of you we aren’t willing to greet
We fear you might keep a filthy house
One running over with lice and mouse

But if to hard, manual work you’re able
We will agree to pay you under the table
Expect that your wages will be quite low
Take what’s offered, or out the door you go

Hola, Pedro, you will hear our mocking taunt
And take the low-level jobs we don’t want
And remember your own subservient place
Or we will return you to Mexico in disgrace

You illegal alien, nasty, ugly and full of sin
Though you cooperate, no way you’ll win
When menial jobs for you finally run out,
We’ll send you packing without a doubt

You’re a parasite, so work here no more
We have firmly shut and locked the door
The country’s border is closed to you tight
So that it can’t be crossed without a fight

Arizona has shown the rest of us the way
To keep such riff-raff as you so far at bay
The very same should be true in every state
Illegal immigrants real Americans so hate.  

(Please realize this is a poem of satire and
is designed to show the feelings of many
in my hometown which has a large,  recent
influx of immigrants.  It doesn’t necessarily  
represent my own views.)
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Starbuck

Starbuck     
 
 
Author Message 
Admin
Admin



Age : 53
Joined : 25 Jun 2007
Posts : 45
Localisation : Tucson

 Subject: Starbuck   Today at 12:19      

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Starbuck 

Starbuck 

SixtyOne 


CharlaXFabels 

Starbuck 
There is a place called Starbucks and that is how many ewe should have of the 
things 
the dollars not the things oh ewe (long pause) now where was eye at let's see? 
Eh? 
The coffee comes with cream AND chocolate and iff ewe add some caramel and 
cream 
the thing could cost a lot of dollars turning green in someone elses hands. 
The new coffee at Starbucks is called Starbuck it sells for 99 cents no tax for the 
poor to have a Starbuck is an ad mans fix. When eye heard that Starbucks was 
experimenting with the $1.oo coffee it immediately came to me what a common 
sense solution and an ad man's dream. There would be a million dollars made 
in the very first week. No one in the advertising department store will “GET” it. It 
takes a long outsider look to seek and find a poet mind in wonder who has paid 
his last two dollars just to have a common cup of black to prance down a city 
slidewalk to hold the cup up high and proudly say eye go to Starbucks at least 
this just one time. How many times have eye said eye would go in there instead 
if they only made a coffee for a buck. Give it a new look. Make the Styrofoam in 
black or even green not white. 
Starbuck for a buck. Print a Starbuck coupon. Give away about a thousand of 
them for promotions send the Charlax one. Charles R Hice General Delivery 
Main Post Office Tucson Arizona 85726 eye kid you not after all it was my idea or 
at least send me one of those $500 cards that everyone likes to use in the 
mournings when they fill up all the drive threws. Make my day Clint Eastwoods 
picture on the side of the new cup. Come on AD MEN throw it up in meetings to 
all the chairmen of the boards of corrections. When cokes are now in all the 
better machines at well over a dollar 33 the Coke@ people will finally make tea. 
Just kidding ewe just twisting the ending on this CharlaXFabel. Be the first in line 
to get the thing this Starbuck please.

Memoirs and Battle Scars

Ernie was a hell raiser
A daredevil of sorts.
He was popular in school,
A natural at sports.

A kid in a candy store
Is the way Ernie felt.
All he had to do was smile,
And every girl would melt.

But he had eyes for Sally,
The only girl for him.
She was aces in his book,
A beauty, tall and slim.

They married after high school,
The Fall of thirty eight,
Ernie earned a scholarship,
At Arizona State.

While he worked for his degree,
Sally clerked at a store;
But their dreams were cut short by
The Second World War.

Ernie became a Captain
In the Army Air Corps.
He proudly served his country,
Like his father before.

Sally trained to be a nurse,
She wished to do her part.
Then word reached her that Ernie
Had earned the Purple Heart.

He’d engaged the Japanese,
Out in the Philippines.
Shot down at Corregidor,
News came from the marines.

The next three years passed slowly,
And Sally tried to cope.
But something would not let her,
Lose faith or give up hope.

Then in early November,
Of nineteen forty five,
The Army called to tell her,
Ernie was still alive.

Parachuting from his plane
He broke one of his knees,
But still avoided capture,
By hostile Japanese.

He joined with the resistance,
A ragged, motley band,
And offered his assistance,
Though he could hardly stand.

The rebels had a medic,
Who tended to his knee;
But without proper treatment
It wasn’t meant to be.

He would always have a limp,
And Ernie knew the score.
His future would be different,
Than what he knew before.

Somehow it didn’t matter,
If this wound changed his life,
If upon returning home
He’s greeted by his wife.

For she is what he fought for,
For her he would have died,
Only she can ease the pain
Of his next labored stride.

The ship made port in Richmond,
And Ernie said a prayer.
Then through tear filled eyes, he saw
His Sally waiting there. 

For a moment, time stood still
Every detail defined,
Imprinted like a snapshot
Upon each of their minds.

And like an old time movie,
They met in an embrace.
End credits rolled as Ernie
Wiped tears from Sally’s face.

They drove into the sunset,
Holding hands and grinning,
Though tales end, we know this is
Only the beginning.
Form: Rhyme

Healing Is Near

I’m just a boy, yes, I’m a free boy
Thinking of a lovely girl today…
Walking down the road with joy
The road of no-shame my way

The sun is glowing
God is all-knowing
The breeze is blowing
Walking on many rocks
Wearing shoes and socks
As the time here slowly tocks

Going round, round in circles
In remarkable sways and radiant swirls
Watching you and me in terrific twirls
And in dreamy diamonds…
And in weirdo squares…
Maybe even in triangles…ridiculous rectangles…
Reading funny little fables on unstable tables…

She’s just a girl, a girl with wit
Her beautiful silhouette is swaying a bit
Going round and round the town
With an upside down frown…frown…

The moon is glimmering
Arizona water is shimmering
Her dress and face are glittering
Walking on the sidewalk once more

Besides the ever-shining desert floor
That girl wants to hang out with that boy some more…
They might as well crush on each other to the core
I adore…the adorable friends that have so much in store
It’s a lovely message on your phone you can’t ignore
She is the desert shore…what are you waiting for? 
Ah, yes, her heart is fixed and her wings can soar…
He and she will score the highest adoration score!

He’s just a boy
She's just a girl
He’s a fixed toy
Let her joy unfurl
Let their joy be full 
She is rather beautiful
Noticed he is handsome
Wish their hope and cheer is wholesome…
That would be extremely awesome

Their childlike joy
Is a beloved rack full of mighty bikes,
Given to a sad boy
He, instead, chooses her and the likes

She likes him
And he likes her
Their lamps won’t dim
Their nights won’t blur
Neither will her…
He will make sure…
To take care of her 
He will be mature…
He is her cure…so pure…

Innocence interlock
Leave the past behind 
Time chimes tick tock
Arizona heat, you’ll find
As long as they don’t mind
Their time together will unwind
Their vision of unity are clear
Hope you find hope, my dear

Sun will illuminate you two, so have no fear

Shed no tear
For, I am here
Borrow some cheer
Healing is near…
Honest happiness will appear
All your woes and anguish will disappear
Just run in the sun with your cherished peer
There’s plenty of desert miles to steer…
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Can't Find Home

Never understood why my family had
hate and contempt for one another,
definitely not wanting to be together.

Never felt like home as a child
only relentless worry and fear,
rejected in an unsafe place.

Never felt a sense of belonging although 
I made many attempts to find my place
after being cast out of our family home.

Never grasped why not having a family
deterred so many people I met over the
years from having a relationship with me.

Never felt like home while moving from
one place to another feeling unwanted
and discarded living alone in New York.

Never had feelings of a home even though 
there were countless people around me on 
the streets, I existed as a solitary person.

Never had feelings of home in Florida either
though my mom and brother were there
I was abandoned once again, living in exile.

Never knowing if a cold-hearted family, 
and an abusive childhood made it hopeless
in finding an honest-to-goodness home.

In another strange and desolate place, 
Arizona this time, alienated living as a 
recluse, once again this is not my home.

Never expected with moving to these
other states that the people I met would
hold my New York upbringing against me.

Never imagined that uprooting my life 
numerous times to find a home 
would leave me in such isolation.

Never imagined I would live my entire
life without a caring family instead I’m
living without any significant roots.

Never thought roaming from place to place in
a vague and impulsive way would cause 
feelings of emptiness instead of a home.

Never knowing if the two homes I provided
for my only child, my sweet son, did he feel
the inadequacy of a sincere loving home too?

Nowadays, I wonder if I was meant to
stay in New York and etch out a life
that was practical while still feeling vacant.

Never thought living so far away from New York
would make me feel so lost not knowing 
where I belong, and still can’t find home.

Never finding my home has me wondering if 
there is something I’m missing or am I always 
at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Praying I make it to Heaven so I can finally
feel cherished and be at a sincere place
and in a truly devoted home.


My Driving History

For some reason
I really like to drive,
and ever since I was sixteen,
when I get behind the wheel
feel free and alive...
Only once had an accident
when I was seventeen,
pulling out too fast of the driveway,
into my parents car I careened,
thank God it was minor damage
and my Dad was able to pop
the dent out with a hammer,
got a stern look and talking to
but kept me out of the slammer,
Have driven some Dodges and Chevy
cars in the past, but lately drive
a Ford Focus because its
much better on the gas...
Have driven in about all of the 
states on the east coast,
and when I go once a year
to visit some family
its destination L.I., New York,
Out west have driven through
Texas, Oklahoma, Arizona
and even California,
reason being my husband
back then went to a school
called UTI in Phoenix, Arizona...
Probably the most traveled
interstate in the east being I-75 and I-24,
which is one of the biggest
trucking routes that I know of by far,
and I truly admire truck drivers
driving their 18 wheelers
up and down the highways and interstates,
they just scare me a bit
when they get too close,
driving as if my car was
truck driver bait...
I even thought once about
becoming a truck driver
but that was a fleeting idea
that lost most of its appeal,
because the more I thought of it
wouldn't really like that career, 
especially since they're all
probably pretty heavy from
constantly being behind the wheel,
and when I stop at those truck stops
I can't help but notice,
that the truck drivers not only
buy toothpaste for their teeth,
but also preparation H
for their hemorrhoids...
My son and I just came home
from Chattanooga, Tenn.,
and thank God we both 
arrived home safely and in one piece,
because even though I love to drive
can't understand why people
fly by me doing 80 like in an emergency,
unless someone in the car
has to use a restroom or
is about to deliver a baby...
and lately when I drive 
around Moccasin Bend
feel a little more on edge 
and on the offensive,
because its like driving on the autobahn
or being in the Indy 500!

Remember, don't text and drive because you want to arrive alive…:)
P.S. Happy 60th Birthday Interstate System!

Carl Carlson

I was up on deck of the USS Arizona doing the morning chores, 
When another plane came along, so I just passed it by, gores, 
Because they landed at Ford Island all the time, but this time, 
It was strafing me, attacking me repeatedly as I was the prime. 

So I ran forward to get under cover, and I did not get hurt, 
But then another plane came around the same way, girt, 
But again, nobody got hit, so I proceeded to go inside, 
Back to my battle station, when a bomb hit where I did hide. 

It knocked me out, ruptured both lungs, all lights went out, 
And I awoke and picked up where I left off, with no pout, 
Pearl Harbour was rank with warfare, bullets flew all around, 
And I don’t know how long I had laid there, but I was bound. 

I was intent on opening the water-tight door, not allowed, 
In battle conditions to be entered, but I managed proud, 
I made my way to the turret to assist there, and one said, 
“Boy, you’re a good boy Carson,” they just needed me red. 

There was no panic down there or anything, but much water, 
And smoke, and they don’t mix, and then a commander
Told me to come on deck and help, but we were at a loss, 
The ship was beat, and we then had to abandon and toss. 

But just before I did, I ran into a friend, crying and dying, 
Burnt, skin dangling off his body, very openly just hanging, 
So I took his arm, but there was nothing that I could do, 
So he died later, and its bothered me all my life through. 

So they gave the word “abandon ship” and so I stepped off, 
Not knowing how badly I was hurt, so passed out, did turnoff, 
I went down in the water and it was peaceful and nice, 
And then I saw this bright light, but something saved me, ice.

I got back up to the water’s surface, but burning oil, 
Surrounded me in a complete circle, but, no more toil,
The next thing I knew was somebody’s arm on mine, 
Pulling me out the water, and then I knew I’d be fine. 

I made it to Ford Island sick bay but saw another there, 
Whose intestines were in his hands, holding them bare, 
And who said to me “War sure is hell isn’t it, shipmate,” 
So I replied and just got up and walked out, straight. 


Died January 14th 2001

Signing the Dotted Line

i’ve known individuals who never

signed the dotted line---

they never took the $20,000 sign up bonus

&

they never pretended,

lying to themselves beforehand,

that when they were

enlisted,

that it would somehow be “peace time,”

whatever that means. 

 

i’ve known folks who have worked at a

gas station for years to pay off the bills that they

could have easily caught up on,

had they had the salary promised them,

if they had become

professional

hired

killers.

 

and i am well aware that there are those

that say that they had no other way to go to college,

than to join the military.

 

and i am well aware that these scumbag recruiters

prey on the poorest neighborhoods,

often seated right at the bottom of the stairwell of a

subway exit.

 

but i just don’t have any

sympathy for you,

if you have signed that dotted line---

because when you do that,

you are saying that

someday,

somewhere,

you won’t have a problem killing someone whom you have

never

met---

having stolen them from their family,

having taken from them all that was life,

for the purpose of

the

state---

you may even be sitting in an office in

arizona,

as i write this,

“manning” a drone,

that has entered any one of our prospective

targets (victims),

in order to beat them senseless

&

rape their land of their natural

resources.

 

if you come back & they hail you,

you still signed the dotted line.

 

if you come back in a box,

you still signed the dotted line.

 

you are a hired killer the minute that pen hits the paper &

no amount of praying or

“good deeds” when you get home,

will rectify doing so.

 

i have so much more respect for those of us that

work our asses off every day in a country with a decrepit

education system, no universal health care, 14+ million

unemployment, etc. etc.---

because we

stick

it

through---

we will never try and convince ourselves that even the

possibility

of killing someone else

or helping destroy another people’s country

will somehow

solve our own

problems.

Premium Member We Heard a Whistle Blow

The whistles screamed that cold dark night
                                         Winter, 1903  
                            At least fourteen would perish
                                  Way out on the prairie 
 
                             The westbound Sunset Limited, 
                            Eastbound Crescent City Express,
                                Met head on in a collision
                               Lives lost in great distress   

                                 Horror met the rescuers 
                              Two twisted trains in flames
                          Of fourteen known to've perished
                            Of two, were not found names

                               A hundred plus years later,
                           On the date and pre-dawn hour
                         We'd come to the memorial plaque
                             With Teddy bears and flowers
                       
                            Holding our thoughts in silence
                               We walked along the trail
                              Remembering the violence;
                              Their deaths upon that rail

                                   Precisely 2:50 A.M 
                             What was it? We don't know
                                  But in our silent vigil
                                We heard a whistle blow

                          Sounding clear across the night
                         Once long, Three short, Last long
                         But there was nothing in our sight
                               Praying - we moved along

                          Our memorial under silver stars
                           For those perished on the track
                               Ended as we got in cars
                                   With one last look-
                                     a century back

                           We'll never solve the mystery
                              But do we need to know?
                              Commemorating history
                              We heard a whistle blow
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Rehashing History: Missing Persons

I
Where, oh where is Virginia Dare*,
No one can find her anywhere.
Her disappearance is the very worst,
I guess that's what comes from being the first.

*Virginia Dare was born on Aug. 18, 1587 in Roanoke Colony, Virginia, the first child born in the New World to English parents. Both the colony and all its inhabitants…80 men, 17 women, and 11 children…disappeared mysteriously, and no traces have ever been found.

II
Amelia Earhart* flew away
And hasn't been seen
To this very day.
Her goal was to make it to Paris in style,
But got only as far as a small desert isle.

*Presumed to have crashed on Howland Island in the Central Pacific Ocean, Amelia disappeared on July 2, 1937. According to a 2015 news article, her remains may have been found and identified.

III
And Jimmy Hoffa*,
Of course it's just hearsay,
Is fertilizing a field
In New York or New Jersey.
The reason for doing him in was excused,
The mob made him an offer,
And Jimmy refused.

*He was heavily involved with the mob-controlled Teamsters Union. He disappeared on July 30, 1975.

IV
The mystery in London
That continues a gripper,
Scotland Yard still doesn't know
Who was Jack the Ripper.*
Was he maybe a royal, a doctor, a rounder?
At least now the prostitutes are all sleeping sounder.

*He terrorized London from 1888-1891. the term "Ripperology" was coined to describe the study and analyses of the Ripper cases. There are over 100 theories about his identity.

V
Another conundrum
Hashed o'er many a snifter,
Concerning Sasquatch, or Bigfoot*,
Is he a myth or a mythter?
It's widely agreed that he's really quite scary,
His general description is big, tall, and hairy.

*We can also add Yeti to the list.

VI
Last, but not least,
There's the Anasazi.*
Did they self-destruct
Like a kamikaze?
Or did they decide to quit stone-age labors
And move to the city like most of their neighbors?

*This is the historical Navajo name meaning "Ancient Ones" who inhabited the 4-Corners region…Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado…up until sometime in the 13th century, archaeologists surmise. Why they abandoned their towns and cities is still a mystery.

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