Long Boomers Poems
Long Boomers Poems. Below are the most popular long Boomers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boomers poems by poem length and keyword.
Sweet dreams are fantastic and enchanting,
The golden wings of brightness are quite chanting,
The natural beauty of songbirds is like fairy dust,
In this dream, I broke down with joy and bust.
Oh, dream! The ominous curved shape was not scary,
Chimera! The vampire seemed merry,
Then the classic scary stigma of horror vampire,
Fear of satanic blasphemy grew as a damper.
Oh! I closed my eyes in horror at that terrible sight!
His hypnotic eyes stopped the trembling, awe-inspiring flight!
The Vampiric myth unsolved puzzle may be resolved tonight,
My heart raced as the ego chiseled my family's artistic heights.
There is tranquility and calmness in my head,
Trying to remember how beatific this time is ahead,
I am grateful to God for my golden vision,
which appears to be a wonderful envision.
A mysterious traveler from our odd planet,
At home, into the magical realm of sleep gamut,
In a dream, I filled out a waiver and escaped Vietnam,
And I joined the National Guard, my favorite aplomb.
My favorite subject at school was English Literature,
Dad said math and science were vital, not litterateur,
I focused on calculus and left grammar to my proclivity,
I learned to design technical visuals, not creatively.
We were labeled "baby boomers," but we were war babies,
It ensures the happiness of possible rivals abides,
Living in America exposed me to a touch of pioneer history,
Technology and industry drive us forward through mystery.
The dream ceased without falling for the intelligentsia,
She freed me from lethargy by having me fight inertia,
Without her, I could have abused booze and heroin,
It's simpler to surrender to laziness than to be a heroine.
I rode the conveyor to the consulting to provide luxury,
I wrote finance and tech books to show I hump Riff Poetry,
Now I am in search of mystical sights and cosmic vibes,
When the writing is over, I shall resume painting the jibes.
The most exciting dreams are abruptly interrupted,
When the sun's rays approached, rouse erupted,
Appealing experiences, from a need for sleep,
More people assumed occult esoteric creep.
1ST place contest winner
Written: September 15, 2022
The Mystical Dream Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
You loved me and accepted
me, for who I am
Loving unconditional
I was your little lamb
And Auntie, though your
womb was closed
No baby born as you'd
once supposed
With the baby boomers
boom
No baby in your
nursery room
Yet truest love,
my Aunt to me
The sweetest gift
would ever be
Your gift of love for
each you knew
Oh Auntie,
your love
was so true
Though you're
lifted from this sphere
May angels
bout' you
Close and near
Whisper in your precious ear
BJ adores you Auntie dear
A whispered "Thank you!"
From this heart
Undying love cannot depart
May these words lift
up to say
Aunt Betty;
Happy Mother's Day
<3
They wage war on the poor
Selling their souls what for
But for gluttony and greed
Dissension is what they breed
Harmony and discord
A duality we can't afford
People die on the street
Chilled to the bone, no heat
No bread, no bed
So they commit suicide instead
And the system is so corrupt
A melting pot is ready to erupt
Boomers failed the youth
Doomers birthed who know the truth
16.07 is the living wage
But 7.25 has us locked in a cage
And we work hard to line their pockets
Yachts, mansions, pensions, and rockets
Racial tension is their weapon
So we don't collectively unify and step in
They say work hard and achieve American dreams
But the reality is not what it seems
Connections grant privilege to the rich like royalty
As they demand we stand for the flag and show loyalty
I'm tired of being a stepping stone and I'm not alone
And this is what we've been shown
Epstein didn't kill himself we know
Another death to protect those in power and another low
America grows darker by the hour
So in a moment of clarity
There is no peace and prosperity
This is a raw deal and we need a green new deal
Because I'm tired of being a spoke on the wheel
Illiteracy is on the rise and that's our demise
Because they can feed us their lies
They blame us and claim we have no ambition
But survival is the majority's mission
Stuck paycheck to paycheck until we're dead
And those who care get shot in the head
I beg you to put your hand on your chest
Against your beating heart are we doing our best
Laws against sleeping in the car, sleeping on the sidewalk
These don't fix the problem but we can't talk
Because they balk and say you should have done better
Anything to lick the boots of the debtor
But despite all of my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage
Soon to be a forgotten footnote, a faded page
And that wheel is going to keep turning
As American lives go up in flames we're burning
But that hatred is twisting deep inside
And revolution is what we need if I must confide
The system is built on a foundation of failure, it's broken
But our passion and fury has been awoken
For this is our watershed moment to stave off calamity
After discouraging decades of enmity
So if they must wage war on the poor
We'll wage war on a system we abhor
It’s time, by now, we did away with nations.
I tell you, hand on heart beneath the flag,
This jingo jag has now become a drag.
Those puerile patriotic palpitations
had meaning only when we lived in tribes.
Today our people mix and mingle freely –
so can’t we now dispense with Horace Greeley,
and wetbacks, wops and wogs, and all those jibes?
Since nations never have a sense of humour,
it’s little wonder why we have these wars.
We need a change of heart. Embrace the cause:
don’t split us into gooks or spooks or squaws,
or hicks or micks or spicks, or baby-boomers.
One nation under God, we’re all consumers.
But alas; sometimes I think we've lost our way-
too many strayed opinions...one too many a survey.
Walking on the road ahead, just following the herd of sheep-
with a hypnotised mind, wide awake yet very fast asleep.
While yelling...join the team of the future progressiveness-
but if you don`t your old fashion, head full of mindlessness.
The enchanting light, a blinding fantasy world-
is a place where viewpoints, twisted and whirled.
The lights words spoken from an over opinionated mind-
but it is taken as the whole truth for one, and all of mankind.
Their flags are waved high, as they scream and chant=
to join with this new order of things, many just can`t.
It`s a path they want us to heavily tread-
but it`s a needle many, don`t want to thread.
With all our differences we live in a blended pot-
so to boil it too fast...we risk spoiling the lot.
The older generation think it's a movement like a hypnotising cult-
and their minds have been struck down by a thunderous lightning bolt.
The generation of now say "your way too old to understand, Mr Boomer"-
but the boomers say "your so out of touch, with no sense of humour.
Za Za Zoom, Za Da Zing: Gen Zoomers
Ba Da Boom, Da Bing: Baby Boomers
Tech awakens in Baby Zoomers
Their Zoom nature being late bloomers
Digital video stays for sure
Watch your kid's vids, which ought to endure
Kiss those heartfelt hugs a grand goodbye
Doing face time on their time is why
So you'll all have to work from your homes
And pay most of your bills off your phones
Covid virtually did change us
Our offices then rearranged us
Save travel time by placing a call
Video games kick started this all
Techy Tacky is kinda wacky
Once Zoom evolves, it won't go backy
Couplet Various generational technology views
16 Lines 107 Words 5/19/22
We were born into a world
still smelling of ration books and hope,
a landscape rebuilding itself
from the rubble of old certainties.
Our first maps were simple~
neighborhood streets,
chalk-lined sidewalks,
the safe geometry of schools and
front yards where mothers called us home
by the sound of their names,
not by fear.
Later, the terrain shifted.
The sixties cracked open
like a fault line,
and we learned to read
new coordinates:
protest, vinyl, moon-landing wonder,
the long road toward voices
finally demanding to be heard.
We charted our adults lives
in ink that bled~
marriages, divorces,
mortgages, layoffs,
and the quiet triumph
of getting back up again.
Our bodies became maps too,
creased at the edges,
softened by time,
each wrinkle a contour line
marking where joy or sorrow
once pressed its thumb.
Now we move more slowly,
but with the quiet elegance
earned only by those
who’ve crossed so many years
without letting go
of the small, steady thread
that kept them whole.
We were cartographers
of change,
mapping a shifting world
not with ink but
with the gentle geography of our hearts.
The storm stirred…having ingredients our neighbors provided.
Stolen goods, the storm stashed in its wings, and headed East.
The storm boiled in Mississippi - all baby boomers spelled
that state voraciously m-i-ss-i-ss-i-pp-i…the eye of the storm, calm,
while the raptor tore apart lives. The weeping of dark clouds
over smithereens. The storm with a long wooden handle, stirring
hail and adding more broth. No one cared for this stone soup.
neighborly stone soup
NO THANK YOU emphatically
Bless your heart tongue goads
3/26/2023
From wikipedia: Stone Soup is a European folk story in which hungry strangers convince the people of a town to each share a small amount of their food in order to make a meal that everyone enjoys, and exists as a moral regarding the value of sharing.
Prayers for those affected by this terrible storm!
Skinny in youth thick in later days
Champion for truth despite delays
As a late bloomer in thought process
Born to a baby boomer and so blessed
Believed in God but didn’t get much church
Felt so odd how the church clicks work
Rather open to explore other fuchsia faiths
Went to the mosque just couldn’t be great
And with Buddhism she felt all a glow
But she still identified as a Christian so
Perhaps it’s true train up a child
But her training was unique and mild
For she recalled Bootsy’s Rubber Band
And Stevie Nicks, Stevie Wonder on hand
Music was the church in her life
She was a cool nerd never a wife
A poet who sucked at math in her head
But like a mom stretched a penny till it’s dead
Had many jobs, but a mom and proud to be
Not afraid of death for it is purple peace
Age is just a number
It's not a true sign
that one who is a senior
is not in their right mind
Age is just a number
it does not matter all that much
as long as you're a child of God
you will feel His merciful touch
I've always believed that the older one gets
the more one is filled with God's Holy Spirit
And I've always believed that like a fine expensive wine
as one gets older, you only get better with time
Age is just a number
getting old shouldn't make you feel sad
as far as I'm concerned
getting old ain't so bad
You might now need a walker or a cane
As arthritis and bursitis are your new middle name
You now have a fabulous head of hair that's silver or gray
But that's just maturity and wisdom on full display
People might start calling you "Pops" or "Ma'am"
or referring to you as an "Old Vet"
but just because there's snow on the rooftop
does not mean the fire in the furnace is out yet
So bask in the wisdom that comes with age
and savor the prime of your life
as age is only a number
it does not matter in your walk with Christ
Just simply enjoy the respect and honor
of attaining a ripe old age
as the "Baby Boomers" are becoming seniors
getting old is now all the rage