Long Belize Poems
Long Belize Poems. Below are the most popular long Belize by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Belize poems by poem length and keyword.
My first Dollie was white
It sat on the lap of Papa's mahogany chair
I looked closer and saw blue eyes
A miniature mannequin, she was thin
Was it a sin I stood not smiling? But turned within
Filled with joy, the color of my skin was Cadbury brown
My Christmas gift to me all along
Dark girls I meet were pretty and sweet
If they were poor, I loved them more
My brother's first love was an Ebony dove
She was the color of my love
Nobody told me I was beautiful
On our way to sea, I felt it
A nappy haired doll; hand in hand
With my teacher, Miss Daphne, on the pier
I felt a touch, warm as Carib' breeze
It was the arms of God saying I was His
Of Her, my Jamaican Mama wedded to my Papa in Belize
Where mahogany speaks
Mys second dally was brown
She made me smile, and lingered long
peering into iris of her eyes
It was deeper than colorism
It was first pool my spirit plunged in
It soothe my soul
My friend, Denise Taylor was white
Eyes the color of chocolate
Her curls bounced gaily as we skipped to school
Her mood I always savored, was jelly sweet treat
She painted me a picture of light in all its glory.
*
The "Busy Bees" danced
The "Nightingales" sang
All day long we practiced
To make a difference with
Our acts and words for the visitors.
They would see full flow of energy
A mix of teamwork and play and loving
And on opening night in the auditorium
Up at "Central Farm" outside the City of Belize
We shared the love
As love was shared with us
We were from rich and poor families
In Belize, British Honduras, but...
A week of free summer fun gave
Sweet memories of butterflies, and breeze
And the order in which we enjoyed three meals
And in between snacks, and comfort sleep
With sound of wilds, and waterfall.
Memories of that day Miss Wilshire from the Y
parked her car, and walked into our yard
And spoke in silence with Granny
And when she departed
Granny summoned me from playing
Beneath our house; I felt scared
Hadn't done anything wrong. She said,
"You and your sisters got summer treat"
That was sweet music to my ear, I can still hear.
*
You who refreshes my mind
Like sea breeze of Belize,
It had to be You, knowing my needs
You in my conscience, consoling me.
You who chases blues
You've given me space, clear and fresh
As den of inspiration I shan't forget.
Inside, I heard serenity's voice
Telling me I had to make a choice
That's when You took my hand
Unlike any earthly man;
And showered me with golden grace
Soft as sea of light within my space.
You showed me promises of old
I was then moved to behold...
When again I heard, "Seek Ye First..."
You came and quenched my thirst,
Then with forgiveness,
You answered my quest, and
Taught me to forgive.
Thank You for Your silent spark,
Giving inspirational thoughts.
*
(Revisited with profound gratitude, on my 65th B'day, Sept 6th)
Written 8/25/12)
Form:
I want to be Cinderella
For just one day
Live in an enchanted castle
And dance the night away.
I want to feel lucky
For just one day
Buy a lotto ticket
And win the big play.
I want to visit Belize
For just one day
Dive into the ocean
And watch the dolphins play.
I want to listen
For just one day
Spend time with my children
And really hear what they say.
I want to completely stop
For just one day
Enjoy life’s treasures
And take time to pray.
I want to be an angel
For just one day
Bring someone a blessing
Then mysteriously slip away.
I want to be a writer
For just one day
Touch someone’s heart
In an extraordinary way.
I want to soar like an eagle
For just one day
An icon of freedom
Inspiring the American way.
with one arm i draw you near, entwine
and on your lips tenderly i place mine
i hold you tight
i kiss you light
i tie you in prepare you for the ride
i kiss you deep and slowly glide inside
swallow your doubts
engage our mouths
use our tongues, a clean slate
i kiss you all, like a life long mate
we circle over and over the hemisphere. visit the ancient gardens of babylon
here. refresh our bodies under a canadian waterfall. view the coral reefs in the
pink waters of belize submerged and all.
we monopolize the star covered night. spread our towels out of sight. sink into
the mink sifted warmth each of a white sand beach.
still our lips glued
our passions ruled
happily lost and unthinking
content to let the bell ring
dwell together in this abyss
relish this ongoing kiss.
still two stranger's grips
willing to share naked lips
though we know when we leave this terrain
that will be it never to see each other again
with nothing to object
convinced this kiss perfect.
My shopping excursions to the local marts are very rare indeed.
My dear spouse does the shopping, I only go when in dire need.
I have no interest in fostering the foreign imbalance of trade,
Therefore, when I shop I want to buy things American made!
Why, nowadays one can tour the world and go on a shopping spree,
Without leaving the county or crossing the billowing sea!
Since most things come from The Czech Republic or Paraguay,
The Peoples Republic of China, Japan and even Uruguay!
I can live sans everything French, especially their cheese and wine.
California wines and Wisconsin cheeses suit me just fine!
I'm desperately trying to find a locally-owned shoe store,
Where I can buy American shoes, not those assembled in Ecuador!
Alas, my turkey for holiday repast is imported from Old Mexico.
I'd much prefer that it be bred and reared here in Colorado!
Can anyone tell me where I can buy American made attire?
Seems all the labels read, "Made in Laos, Thailand, Belize or Eire!"
The plethora of stuff continues to invade our sacred shores,
Inundating the shops and marts, overflowing their cash drawers.
Even the paper upon which I scribe was made in a place called Texas,
But I reckon I can brook that, since with them we have a tenuous nexus!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Let us go on an expedition
to the bottom of The Great Blue Hole in Belize
grab your diving gear because
we are going to dive down into a circular sinkhole
created thousands of years ago
deep, deep, deep ... down, down, down
at the surface the blue water is crystal clear
surrounded by a ring of a lighter shade
but, as we travel down the limestone walls
it becomes misty and darker
and we begin to discover many submerged caves
where icicle-shaped
stalactite mineral formations hang
with their pointed tips
and stalagmites grow from the cave floors
reaching up for the ceiling
that remind me of carved columns
but today we will not be exploring any of the caves
we want to find the bottom
down, down, down ... we fall into the dark
and pass dead coral skeletons
and fossilized marine life
and limestone boulder formations
at the bottom we find a vast sandy floor
oh, beware of the sharks patrolling ...
now, it is time to go up, up, up those limestone walls
for we are 354 feet down
_________________
May 23, 2021
Poetry/Narrative/The Great Blue Hole
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1357-612-23
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Blue Hole
sponsor, Anthony Biaanco, Judged 06/05/2021
Old red plaid shirt blew off the line with ease.
One July day with a gentle breeze,
Farmer’s wife came out to peek into old deep freeze.
She was now standing in meat up to her knees.
Old farmer came out and asked with “please”…
Can you find my shirt up in the trees?
The wife stopped smiling. There were no tee-hees.
She began to hunt for shirt in their Humvees.
Farmer went inside to pay their state fair fees.
Opportunity to upgrade tickets, he did seize.
He loved the Iowa state fair in all degrees.
Wife asked everyone with heartfelt pleas,
“Have you seen a red plaid shirt taken by a breeze?”
A few neighbors did aptly tease.
Saw it go north, said old Mr. McFees.
I am sure it is in Belize, another decrees.
One thing for sure, that plaid shirt was gone in the breeze….
Alicia Ruiz Ruiz,
at moments like these
I feel weak at the knees.
I've developed a wheeze,
and my poor head is aching.
Señorita Ruiz,
my tongue starts to seize,
my brain turns to cheese,
my confidence flees,
and I'm yours for the taking!
Alicia Ruiz,
run away with me, please!
Choose Berlin, or Belize -
I'm not shooting the breeze -
When the chance occurs, take it!
La Bonita Ruiz,
Jumping jiminy jeeze!
We're as like as two peas.
Though it may be a squeeze,
I believe we can make it!
Alicia Ruiz Ruiz,
Oh, don't be a tease!
We can sail the high seas
(I'll take care of the fees)
All I ask, a few kisses.
Miss A.R. Ruiz,
Dot the i's, cross the t's.
I am offering the keys:
do what duty decrees:
change your status to Missus.
You, too, would find solace, by
The Caribbean Sea, in Belize of my birth
The Sea owns portion of my heart
It connects me to Atlantic's mighty waves, and
Neon lights of Africa.
In backyard of America,
I've basked in virgin air, and
Climbed summit of Xunantunich, and
Heard of civilization toppled by man, and
Read of Port and slave ships;
And God's green earth of sustenance, and of
Hand washing hand... but
In pool of many colors,
As vast as salts and Sea
The smell of hate's elasticity,
Sits in proximity to you and me.
To plant seeds of forbidden hate
As part of earth's abundance,
What power? What glory? What victory?
*
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