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.
BLIND INJUSTICE
I know that’s what she wants me to be
But that’s just not me
As I stood on an oak floored alter
All of my friends certain I would faultier
But no one should ever fault her
The poor little lady was made so weak
while all the while I wanted her to speak
Tell me what bills are due
tell me what the hell is new
But especially explain to me how the blind man knew
But I must get betrothed for a lot of money I owe
So this, to me, was something I had to do, that much I know
Because Big Black Bruce is a dude you don’t want to owe money to
So I pretty much was being made to vomit out “I do”
Bruce told me that he wasn’t going to get me with a knife or a gun
He would just make me wish he had killed me with one
And let me tell you I was in $2,350 deep
Because 80 percent pure heroin in new york city wasn’t cheap
So there stood she,
My bride to be
With a countenance that counts
And nerves of steel for when trouble mounts
My only thought was fight, flight and flee
Because she was marrying a very “ not me”
Yet she always accepts everything I’ve ever done
So what do you do when your flesh tells you to run?
But look out in the pews
Women wearing their fanciest shoes
They all came to party after the “I do’s”
Yet and still a small voice couldn’t summon my words I refuse
But could I stay united with someone who had married a fake?
And be forgiven for every errant action I ever make
How long would our hiding place still be that hidden lake
And as for me I feel as if I’m making a cataclysmic mistake
What with all the vows I am about to make and breach
S**t, I remember Belize with another lovely on a secluded beach
With golden and glistening sand
And just at the right time she took my hand
Or perhaps I’m wrong and it wasn’t Belize it was a floral field
While I’m afraid my secret will be revealed
Oh so very pretty in all puffy and fluffy white
But suddenly I realized I was definitely right’
So I grabbed my best man and we didn’t drive……… we flew
And I still wonder how that blind man knew
© 2011.…poefree
HURRICANE HATTIE
It came like a thief
After midnight
Stealthily
Unawares
Mischievously
Spitefully
Desperately
Determined
With preconceived plans
Across the Caribbean Sea
Suddenly turning west
Making a beeline
To British Honduras
In Central America
It foiled expectations
That it would arrive
At seven the next morning
And
Instead
Made a surprise visit
Six hours earlier
And
Like the Gestapo
The KGB
The Secret Police
Attacked
While people were
Least prepared
Snoozing
Snoring
Dreaming
Of better things.
Discriminating
It attacked
Belize
Ignoring neighboring
Guatemala
Honduras
Mexico
As if
Remotely controlled
By some
Vengeful fanatic
At 150 miles per hour
And more
It
Clobbered
Battered
Hammered
Pounded
The coastline
Of
The Jewel
People still ’memba
How in ’61
It wrecked havoc
In Dangriga
Belize City
San Pedro
Cay Caulker
Among others
As it
Thumped
Hit
Broke
Lifted
Pushed
Carried
Dumped
Submerged
Their valuables
And
Like a Repo Man
Dispossess them
Of their
Treasured belongings
Within the
Make-belief safety
Of its eye
Poor people
Thinking it was over
Sought their fortunes
On the beaches
In the shops
In others’ property
When Hattie
On a round trip ticket
Came back hurriedly
And with
More gusto
Lashed out
As a category five
Storm
Typhoon
Hurricane
To teach them a lesson
In
Tort
Honesty
Respect
And dignity.
In the end
One third of the coast
Was devastated
One third
Damaged
And
Another third
Standing
With 264 dead
And millions
Of dollars lost
The place lay wasted
Spoiled
Thorn
Flooded
Damaged
Wounded
Smashed
Muddied
Polluted
As
Debris
Corpses
Belongings
And victims
Wallowed in its wake.
As it distanced itself
From
Its handiwork
And Observed
With a smirk
Its power
To
Subdue
Man
Woman and child
It grinned
In satisfaction
At its exploits
And its supernatural supremacy
To shape destiny
And vanquish the vulnerable
FLEAS
Alarm clock shows Saturday 7 30. Yes, please!
More sleep - a professional delight for this catcher of fleas.
For the present, I’m working from home at my ease
And my career may be in permanent economic squeeze.
Before Covid,my daily branch-swing to work took 45 minutes in the trees;
Now no need to commute to the office on Saturdays.
Just swing down to breakfast….maybe cheese……..
Hope my wife has prepared something other than bananas and peas.
Gonna spend entire day working from home, charging no fees,
Checking the family fleas.
Uncle Bob always has some dragged in from the quays
Usually bigger males picked up somewhere is the seven seas.
So here’s me turning back Bob’s fur and straining to seize
The little moving pests, often down on my knees.
Bob doesn’t like sitting rock-still like some flea-prison trustees;
Would rather be swinging in the breeze-filled trees.
But he will chat endlessly about the state of the G 7 economies,
The latest stats about Covid 19, or wasp-stings, or bees,
Vaccination rates and social distances the length of two-skis,
How many fleas are being chased out of hospitals or galleries,
How many Capitol senators are bitten in their arteries.
Bob assumes such chat is less tedious in my search to please,
But actually I would prefer silence so that I could watch in reprise
The next episode of ‘Life in the Amazon and Belize’ -
How the trainee-monkeys down south avoid cough or sneeze
Especially the sort carried by fleas.
Aided by techno stuff in 100 degrees
With medicines and vaccine from Buenos Aires.
Sooner or later my from-home job of ease
Will be under threat from medical monkey trainees.
Bob will have no more complaints about prison trustees or disease
And I’ll be able to go back swinging in the breeze
To the office on Saturdays
And read the latest research about fleas
South of the border or overseas.
7 April 2021
Only little black girl at school and her white friends admired her ‘tan’
–“I'm brown all over” she told them, proudly motioning to all her body.
But skin color can be an issue
I remember the back of the bus-
although we rarely rode it because of that.
I remember for colored only water fountains
segregated schools and lunch counters for whites only.
I remember the caste system at my high school- black step back, brown stick
around, white you all right.
I think Langston Hughes captured the cadence of it.
Bright skin girls were queens and princesses, beautiful and fair.
Black girls were well, BLACK and that was supposed to be a negative.
And then a funny thing happened on the way through the sixties-
BLACK was beautiful and the skin color dynamics began to change.
It came out of the closet and was addressed by white, black, brown, red and
yellow people.
Now skin color is celebrated in all shades and hues although
I still hear teenagers at my high school (I'm a teacher now) say things like,
"I'm not sitting out here in no sun, I don't want to get any blacker than I am."
And of course prejudice has not disappeared it has mutated and we do have
stronger defenses against it in some cases.
Interestingly even skin color defines some of my "brown" students.
They react to the "darkness" of each other and their parents, relatives and
friends.
"My mom is real dark, Miss, she don't look nothing like me."
"Miss, do you think I look like a Mexican? I don't look nothing like a Mexican."
"I'm a Latina."
"There's no such thing as a Chicano, it's something people made up, either
you're a Mexican or you're not."
"What does that mean-Hispanic?"
"I'm Cuban, Puerto Rican, and El Salvadorian, from Belize; Honduran (We got
black Hondurans, Miss)” That’s the color of skin thing.
Form:
HAIKU #1-14 (Taken from my files totaling 12,016 haiku, started in 2/9/06)
Ants red as wine A black spider seem to own
dine on yellow nectar squatter's rights right on
from a juicy mango. our front porch.
Day of rain and A quiet gentle breeze brought
zero visibility, then thoughts of Belize and
pastel evening sky. New York's Hudson.
Morning draped in silk Drenched from his walk
of white as we await snow a lone man sat basking on
and sleet and cold rain. bench in sudden sunshine.
In dreariness of winter Driving home by night
my philodendron buds stands I fled the signal of a white
erect and frozen. hand hitchhiking.
Earth held in traction In temp of one hundred
by glistening silver moon a black bird basked
full like a balloon. in my shadow.
Blond rabbit pregnant In dark of night
with ***** often visit and With full moon bright
side with the husband military copters all in a row.
A spider sleeps all day In early morn my pen
then wake up and work poised like stillness of
at post twilight time. trees awaiting breeze.
’Tis a strange matter yet a familiar breeze,
The passing glance and a heart’s appease,
And two lonely hearts silently un-crease,
Both see tomorrow with flavorful increase,
O! How uncertainty makes them squeeze,
A Dream of ending the lonely heart’s lease,
Shall it be with the two that it all shall cease,
Or is this a moment aimed to please?
Beware their spirits are still on freeze,
Unawakened during this growing abyss,
Only the mind and body play this piece,
O! What pleasure, yet peril to peace.
Spirit awakens, but all the way in Belize,
Cognition and sensation move in with ease,
One or both become weak in the knees,
Mutual intentions they begin to release.
The words that spew, O! Jeez!
Who knew signor could speak Portuguese!
Now watch the two become like geese,
And send on each other passion infested fleas.
Spirits finally come flying in with a whiz,
Shall they declare a cease and decease,
As if they were the remedy to a disease,
Or provide cover like a warm coat of fleece?
Remaining unshaken like dear Queen Liz
Sifting through the Reason database in their PCs
Spirits ponder on whether to pay the lovers’ fees,
Or appraise their desire to the value of two peas.
Spirits decide that they must quiz
Are the two genuinely up in the trees,
Or is this a matter of the birds and the bees?
Does someone intend to go on their knees?
Interrogation is long; spirits want to catch ZZZ’s,
Platonic relationships; the minds’ are forced to think on these,
The hearts compelled to learn to appease,
May be tomorrow they’ll sail in agape seas.
Look into these eyes, these eyes show no mercy
Like flesh ripping off my skin, I scream
I shout the names of those I do not know
Like darkness I shall spread through your dreams
For they will become nightmares
Of which there is no return…
How you will cry, but no tears will fall
For you have sinned, and shall be burnt
Like a thousand suns you shall feel my wrath
Blood dripping from your eyes, ears and nose
The wall thickens with every breath you take
The truth I now expose
You have smiled at death… looked into its eyes
Seen the fury within the depths of his soul!
To bring you pain and much suffering
Is his aim, his only goal!
The fear from which he feeds
Is buried deep inside your mind
Laying dormant, hidden from plain sight
But eventually it will find you!
Haunt you, and bury you alive
Rip the jaws apart, gouge your eyes
Peel your skin off, until you’ve bled plenty
Only leading to your demise
For the pain doesn’t end there
It’s only about to start….
The executioner waits down below…
Ready to tear you apart
When you scream, the angels will but only laugh
For you did not listen well
You mocked them, ignored them
Now in hell’s kitchen you dwell
Into a pit of which there is no return
No escape only much suffering to come
This world varies in torture
Of which none can be ran from!
You will bleed endlessly…
Suffer like never before….
Praying to God to take you out
But he listens no more!
The path you chose has lead you to fall
And now your consequences you must face
Now endless misery and regret
For denying God’s wondrous Grace!!!
Eliel202
Belize (Country)
Altzhiemers: Thief of Light
My good old friend is a prisoner
tortured by his own sharpest tool
The shadows of Altzhiemers
Throwing a cloak of darkness
Over his bright green eyes
Eyes that I regularly looked to
For wisdom and sage advice
Forty-five years of our adventures
And brotherhood still live in
His soul and somewhere in
His ravaged brain, bringing
Smiles each time I come to visit
I can’t hold his hand in mine because
even light touch makes him wince in pain
But, I tell him stories from
Back in the day that brings him
To laughter and visible joy for
One fabulous moment of recognition
He is an incredibly wealthy man
Whose family built great railroads
That connected the country from
Coast to coast, governed states
Served as wartime ambassadors
Founded banking dynasties and
Designated him a black sheep
We spent lots of time at his beautiful
880-acre ranch at almost 9000 ft in
Buckhorn Canyon, on the
Border of Rocky Mountain Park
A 150-acre farm in Bellevue as well
As a home in Belize for diving trips
I sit at a table with him before a
Picture window that looks out at
The Bellvue Dome cliffs where
for many centuries of verbal history
Native American tribes chased herds of
Bison off the edge for the women
Below to skin, stretch and preserve
wisely preparing for winter to come
As I get up from the table to leave
I’m overwhelmed by grief because
My old friend is lost within his shadows
And I have no idea if I’ll ever
See HIM again...
i found her on a beach in belize
if you please
just sunning herself and taking in the sights and sounds of the gulls
watching ships past by with steady courses set and sturdy hulls
the sun dripped from her shimmer
as i sat blinded by her glimmer
she showed me what was beyond the shore
and so much more
she pointed to the horizon where blue meets the darkness at night
there she sat contemplating mankind's possible destruction and plight
her beauty shone like the sun i tried to hide my eyes from viewing
and being beautiful is all she was doing
and in so doing telling a story that was a warning to all
telling humanity to answer her fervent call
all she wanted was to lay on the beach unafraid of what was to arrive
if all of us didn't get together and learn to mutually survive
no waste to last for a million or more years
no more wars born out by tepid tears
no destroying the balance of nature of which she was too aware
as she sat by her father Neptune's lair
her mother shone as did the daughter i speak of
born from a family of peace, tranquility and of course love
so as the gulls flew by
and their chicks learned to fly
i continued to watch the ships past by sturdy and strong
and no one can convince me that her assertion was wrong
for most assuredly this was no ordinary girl
because this beauty was born of an oyster and her name was pearl
(c) 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
Beneath the clay I eavesdrop hoarse echoes from a marigold world draped in marmalade felicity
I grimace as sandstone terra lets all its weight stack upon my rusty bones, buckling under the fire;
The spice upon my lips, a cider of courage, reminds me of the rhapsodic beauty that I once knew--
Gamboge fields beneath my feet in Bali, balmy bronze sands in Belize, sweet tangerines in Brazil
Truculent desires once defeated by the ferocious roar of a tiger roaming the fields of his kingdom--
But now the flavor is gone, relinquished to the cataclysm of burnt rage that tortures my heartbeat
Bronze earth crushing my lungs, I breathe specks of ginger dust just to maintain a languid pulse
The taste of blood dripping down my throat as I swallow persimmon shards from shattered teeth
My fingernails ripped out as I claw with coral skinned tips at an indomitable wall of tawny flesh
It taunts me with laughter as I dig, mocking my efforts to escape while I choke on vermilion tears;
This is my world of stomped beauty-- mashed amber serenity scorched into blood orange embers
Buried dreams of a once enraptured existence now encompassed by a soil veil of repugnant pain
My uncertainty of escape is as certain as my demise-- blazing indignation gasping one final breath
Dimmed by the light of a fading orange sunset, silent and still;
March 4, 2016