Long Borders Poems
Long Borders Poems. Below are the most popular long Borders by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Borders poems by poem length and keyword.
The land is soaked with blood
The sand is soaked with tears
Oh
How many barrels of blood must be spilled
to know that so many souls are gone?
How many basins of tears does it take
to have more than enough tears?
.
I am the voice of the little child
crying in the wilderness
I want to caress the flowers that spring
out of the ground of my homeland
I want to watch the ripples when rain falls
I want to play with my mates on the sand
along Chu Ngoke street
I want to sit at home and watch my parents returning from a bountiful yam harvest
I want to stand at the playground and watch the traditional wrestling
I want to hear the sounds of Egelege and Egoni talking drums reminding me of yesterday and a great future ahead
I want to chase away goats from eating the maize in my mother's garden
I want to open my mother's pot
and pick a meat out of the soup
I want to see my homeland
Sweet little home of ours
Please take me back to Alode
Please take me back to Alode
.
I am the voice of a man
Whose hope lies in shackles
Whose homeland lies in broken images
A town deserted and forgotten
I am tired of being a stranger
in another man's land
I am tired of begging for crumbs
When my barn is filled with yam
Mudskippers can still be found in our swamps
Please take me back to Alode
I don't want to die in another man's land
I want to die in Alode, somewhere in Eleme
I want to be buried near the grave of my father and see my ancestors usher
me home with a shinning crown
Take me back home
Take me back home
.
Take me back to Alode
Let me see the beautiful women that
toss about the streets
Let me admire their buttocks
Let me stare at their breasts,
those two round objects protruding out
of their clothes, breasts that could make me feel like a child again
Let me kiss Nyime Owa Eleme, that beautiful lady of my dream
Let me lay her down on my bedside and
make life worthwhile
I want to go back home and see
the sunshine with it's illuminous rays
and the tender droplets of the rain
Oh Please take me back to Alode
Please take me back to Alode
.
Take me back to Alode
Let me touch your borders
From Alesa to Ogale
From Echieta to Onne and
From Ebubu to the Onu Nmu where they say the hands cannot reach
I want to touch the land of Alode
I want to touch the Eleme soil
I want to touch the soft green grasses of home
.......
Only eighteen and conscripted to the military,
no choice of mine it was the norm at this time and scary,
barely out of school and still wet behind the ear,
too young to watch an adult movie or have a beer.
Disadvantaged to study and too white to be left behind,
this I never understood till today, rightfully grew up blind,
this pain will never leave me as I walk through life,
explaining, I can’t understand myself, the past strife.
Ready to be trained to kill another nation’s child,
leaving their family with the loss and our side smiled,
dejected as I waved goodbye to my family that day,
my girlfriend was there too and my friends to stay.
To a military camp for 2 years, programed and trained,
based in Kimberley 900 Km to be mentally stained,
infantry intelligence was my involuntary military calling,
not knowing what was in store for our adult life’s stalling.
On my new bed listening to songs of memory and waiting,
corporals, sergeants screaming at youths scared, hating,
nobody knowing what or who, or how, where to show,
disconnected from family and treated like **** dough.
Moulding us into military men without feelings,
chased and forced without asking or dealings,
involuntary wearing uniforms, carrying death,
brainwashed, to march in unison, out of breath.
Bushwhacking, crawling under barbed mesh,
ripping our faces, shredding our young flesh,
many a youth destroyed mentally for gore,
but guaranteed that we were ready for war.
Your rifle is your wife; the military is your mother,
drilled into our minds and began a smother,
fired our weapons at fabricated enemy,
re-loading and then screaming with venom.
Indoctrination and mental instability forced,
not ourselves but killing machines endorsed,
spread across African borders to kill on sight,
innocent, women and child death is our right.
Many a friend made and many a friend lost,
this is for our nation, family and worth the cost,
under the impression of protecting our nation,
living off measly dehydrated and shared ration.
We the soldiers of our South African un-united nation,
proud and ready to destroy, our new minds creation,
all others were the enemy and terrorists,
to them we were the same to kill and create hero lists,
Friends and Time with family are lost forever,
memories of the past in our conscience lost never.
sensory grass
tickles your toes
soft pokes
every word is a stroke
of a blade
not a brush
a lawnmower in the distance
breaks the silence
what the hell…
the smell of fresh-cut grass
and the moisture
that lingers on its smell
you know…retains it
(like the soft and cushy handprint that
stays in the grass
in the shady part of that corner in the yard
turns the white shoes green
amongst the hedges and the borders by rocks
by that long-ago planted snowball tree
and all the love you had to give while you planted it
…rubbed the lamb's ear,
said a prayer and wished it the best of luck)
but here, now
take a nap in the sunshine
under a clouded sky peacefully
on a blanket
the winds brushing by
the rays beam through
and warm that blanket
your worn-out blanket
with scents of lingering past summers
of far-off beaches and sunscreen
dusty and musty
yet beloved blanket
(different kinds of loved-upon)
but here, now
the breeze on my toes
and the breeze on the grass
and the breeze on my face and my hair
stealing my woes
keeping me cool
my eyelashes flicker
a lazy dream of greens upon blues
upon dandelion yellows
shining
until you awake
slightly alarmed
to a busy bee
buzzing by
blinded by beauty
my tears trickle down the corners of my eyes
bleed down my cheeks to my lips and taste salty
warm and salty on my tongue
warm from the gold
of that hot-blooded sun
and the sensory experience
grateful to be alive
to soak it all in
through the skin
can you feel it?
it was a lovely dream
the smell of sweet grass
how bits and pieces float on air
tickle the nose
sweet and bitter tasty on the tongue
whisking away depression blight
peace rises
higher and higher
like barometric pressure
elevating mood and lighter weight
reflecting on purpose
reflecting on mood
through transcendence
but here, now
you can just
be
tingling sensations
just
be
feeling overcome with peaceful power
power to
just
lie
still
and enjoy the senses and dreams
that the grass brings forth
you’ll wake up
remember details
and reflect upon paper
close your eyes
and reflect upon paper
an outward pour
can’t you feel it all beaming in the sunlight?
in the mood
in the barometric pressure
in those blades of grass
breathtaking striking
blades of green grass
my god, aren’t we blessed
—American writer
He watched his kite,her, snap
her tail rises
in the sky
in the deep blue sky
i keep imagining of her
my eyes don't rest and lie,
my mind's eye,
of her with a bird in hand,
the one she waved off …
that i dont imagine
i keep watching her tail
so majestic
and buoyant
... as if she were dancing,
dancing
with herself,
in the deep blue sky,
her carriage
model perfect
of blemishes
with the sun shining
off her inner beauty,
she would flutter
... flutter
to the right and left,
bounce, bounce
up and down
as i continue watching,
watching ...heartbroken
for the last time,
Of life passing by,
Her,
my eyes moisten
as she distances herself
away from me
the burdens of my life
Heartaches, heartaches that
always kept suppressed in me
i say, i wish i could have stopped her flight
and see her come alive
with me,
... me with
one fleeting chance
a chance
of a snowball of goodness for once
but hoping realistically
for just that one snowflake of a chance
one little snowflake that never dropped
... i keep watching
the once beautiful kite
so lifelike, vibrant
especially her tail and direction
up in the blue sky,
a small dot now
... sucking the air out of me
as it became smaller
• i reminiscence
of the past of how our love nosedived
into an avalanche
before it started
... nosediving into sorrow and regrets
the residual of a piece of string not tying
not tying a loop...
i keep looking up into the sky
my mind oscillating, correlating
i see, clearly
her inner beauty capturing me
even from a distance
and now how ... i'm resigned to watching
so sadden
life unravel,
how can this be
or is that the line ... unraveling
again, how can this be
... the kite kept
distancing itself
fluttering itself ...
further away ...
just like myself
... the wind howling
its sharp teeth of injustice, life
grabbing me
i guess
i guess i was bad, unworthy
For her
for i hear ...
voices in my head
the once little birds in her hand crying,
crying
for not finding warmth
i hear a snap
is that for real?
i look,
in the deep blue sky
turning over, turning shades of red
she's gone
and the voice of cruelty just laughing
just laughing at me
for there is an absence, now
of that little tail fluttering
with goodness,
with unattainable borders
that i missed and missed
connie pachecho
3/3/17
What happened yesterday
Can change today.
When a person understands
His" her" capacity
He "she" can not see borders
To enter some world competitions
Where racism and injustice
Are not principal choices.
Power of beauty and wealth,
Some daughters of some poor in the Competition with some daughters
Of some rich people.
Yesterday when I saw you in miss universe,
I said,"wow! Yeah, they are there
To show their beauties
As other races. "
Participating in such
Universal competition,
It is not an easy task.
From local competition to national,
From National competition
To universal competition.
To have a miss universe title.
Yesterday,
When I heard about black American women
Who won miss America and miss USA
Another black african woman who won
Miss South Africa and miss universe.
Their wins encouraged
More black women in the world
Who were discouraged
By injustice, tribalism,
Regionalism,
Corruption and
Racism in some countries.
Power of beauty and wealth,
A beautiful woman that a man saw yesterday
Can stick in his mind for some years.
Men know what they want,
It is hard to change their choices.
White man marry a beautiful black woman
" or white woman"
A black man marry a beautiful white woman
" or black woman."
Men like the beautiful flowers ...
It is their nature.
Beauty women are like beautiful
blue, black, red, rose, orange, yellow,
white, khaki, chocolate, green flowers
Every man has his favorite coulours.
Power of beauty and wealth,
The style of beautiful women of yesterday
Differ to the style of beautiful women of today
But their attractions don't change in the eyes of men.
Beauty of a woman is
A strongest magnate
Which attracts,
And captures
Millions of men
But
The wealth of a woman
Is a silent
Missile
Which terrify trillions
Of world men.
Majority men are arrogants and
They hate to be dominated
By any woman.
This piece of poetry portraying some truth,
Naked truth about small matters with
Some solutions.
Majority rich women of yesterday
Were so arrogants and
Those of these days
are still very arrogants.
Marriage of two arrogants...
Man and woman
Can not last,
Unless one of them bound.
May 5/2023
Writting for contest sponsored by
Constance la France
Theme: YESTERDAY
how much is it worth to you to feel safe and secure?
how much would you spend? how much could you afford?
what is the monetary value that you would place on your life?
how much money would it take? how much would you sacrifice?
what price safety? what would be the cost?
what price safety? what would you spend to prevent the loss?
too frightened to get on the elevator in the building where you reside
don't know if you'll make it to your door before a thief is at your side
too scared to walk to your car alone in a public parking lot
don't know if you'll get the keys in the door before you're assaulted or shot
what price safety? how much money would you spend
just to have that feeling of security once again?
most every elected official in most every country in this world
have their own taxpayer funded security detail
the celebrities, movie stars and TV personalities
have personal body guards and/ or private security
America has been on heightened alert since the Twin Towers did fall
the airports, the borders and Homeland Security are constantly on the ball
security has become one of the nation's fastest growing industries
and you can't go anywhere in this world without showing identity
so how much would you spend to remove from your life that spirit of fear?
how many dollars would it take to protect what you hold dear?
there're not enough police to go around to be in society's face
so security officers take up the slack and stand in their place
we've become the front line defenders that the community sees
to detect, protect and defend them and their property
retailers spend thousands of dollars just to secure their goods
from thieves, boosters, shoplifters and your garden variety hoods
the government be it federal, county, city or state
use security officers to keep the peace in abate
yet without benefit of weapons, no batons, no vests or guns
we hold to our positions and we get the job done
we alert the police, FDNY and the EMTs
at the first signs of violence, fire and any emergency
but we're at a disadvantage when it comes to getting paid
for we barely make what would be considered a livable wage
what price safety? what would it be worth to you
to give security officers what they are due?
what price safety? I ask you once more
what price would you pay just to feel secure?
WHAT PRICE SAFETY?
1.618 :
Number of Golden Ratio, mystery of Kaaba, Miracle of Islam and Koran, it is the high time for Divine Secrets, Divine Mysteries. Soon on display!
In a little while, you will see scientific proofs of unbelievable mysteries that have remained hidden in the Holy City of Mecca for thousand of years with your own eyes. Mecca is willed as direction of kowtow, convention place for billions of Muslims and as the holy center of Islam. Those Muslims, who can afford, are prescribed to arrive go on a journey through Kaaba, Muzdelife and Arafat and to convene in the sacred city.
Phi Constant- 1.618, superior design number of mathematics. The Creator has always used the very same number in numerous events in the universe; in our heart pulses, the aspect ratio of DNA spiral, in the special design of the universe called dodecehadron, in the leaf array rules of plants called phylotaxy, in the snow flake crystals, in the spiral structure of numerous galaxies. The Creator used the same number; the number of golden ratio which is 1.618…
As a result of his 25 years long study, aesthetician Dr. Steven Markout proves that each of human faces and bodies, created pursuant to this ratio, are completely beautiful. If the relative ratio is 1.618 for the components of any structure, then this form will be convenient to Golden Ratio, the perfect design.
So, where is the Golden Ratio Point of the World?
The proportion of distance between Mecca and North Pole to the distance between Mecca and South Pole is exactly 1.618 which is the golden mean. Moreover, the proportion of the distance between South Pole and Mecca to the distance between both poles is again 1.618.
The miracle has not been completed yet; The Golden Ratio Point of the World is in Mecca city according to map of latitude and longitude which is the common determinant of mankind for location.
The proportion of eastern distance to the western distance of Mecca’s solstice line is again 1.618. Moreover, the proportion of the distance from Mecca to the solstice line from the west side and perimeter of world at that latitude is also surprisingly equal to the golden ratio, 1.618. The Golden Ratio Point of the World is always within the city borders of Mecca, within the Holy Region that includes Kaaba according to all mapping systems despite minor kilometrical variations in their estimations.
[21/09/2015 9:18:41 PM] P.c: while i stand on this stage
talking to you and the rest of the race
you see the cloths you wear
the places you live
the friends you have
the parents who love you all
while we talk about the Syrian refugees
things get interesting
not positively but more pessimistic
seeing their houses being blown to ash
friends lost cause of cross fire
parents some there and some gone
with the shoes you even where now
some children go barefoot
some dont realize how bad this maybe
19.5 millin refugees says the most of this
i dont know what is worse
knowing this statistic
or knowing that half are children
we all see how privaleged we may be
but would you like to pay back to society
help the others in need
seeing to those who bleed
not always physically but emotionally
with tears of sadness
experience the lose of many
running from home
losing all types of cloths
not even seeing you house as home any more
cause the windows are blown out
the door on the floor
with bullet holes scattering the wall
u wonder what was home like before the war went on
now all you can recall is the herds of refugees
running across lands dangerous or safe
climbing the border to be clear
as i personally know
i got a friend in the country next door
he talks as he sees
them fleeing in and crowding the streets
there is 3/4 percent of the populations Syrian rather than Lebanese
the country is in chaos
while others around the world barely notice
we got to try
help them some how some way
imagine walking miles
with no shoes
a father or mother
or not even both
escaping the country you called home
because the war raging around has destroyed everything you got
you are only a child
younger than the double digits
surviving the storm and one of the worst wars on this earth
now once they get to their new "home"
do you think they are treated fairly
my god please, look around
they are blocked at the borders and tear gassed cause they are so many
they are rejected from all
the put tents up and sit tight
die from the cold in winter times
a new article said
" young boy at the age of 7 dies from the cold even though being held in his mothers arms"
this just makes me sick deep down inside
realizing refugees aren't treated right
even though they are exiled from home
we got to make a change"
I fall and my mind begs my heart to get up
I try to stand on two shaky legs
But the weight of my soul has become too much to bear
The rips and tears in my heart have become too much to mend
I try to close my eyes but I’m continuously haunted by your smile
My heart yearns to pull your body close
To get wrapped up in your lyrical verse
My mind craves the sound of your voice
I try but I’m left with only one lyrical choice
I need you, I need you, I need you
My soul feels alive when I’m caught in your gaze
I let go of my fear and convince my heart to be brave.
It’s too early so I won’t let this feel like love
I can’t help but want to be your dove
Sailing on the winds of your emotions
A dolphins riding the waves of your devotion
In the ocean that is your heart
Why can’t I just let these feeling pass
My world is spinning way too fast
I’m lost, You find me, I’m lost again.
Your eyes draw me in but your fears push me out
Your lips beckon me closer
But doubt still clouds your mind
Why did we have to find each other now
The timing couldn’t be more wrong
(cuss) THIS!!!!!!
You still sing my heavenly song
A melodious rhapsody
Into this abyss
I fall to thee
I’m floating on your words
This is weird, I’m lost in three different worlds
I’m happy, I’m sad, I’m confused
I wish time would cease to tick
So I wouldn’t have to lose
Wishing amour shall cause our hands to fuse
So I never have to let go
So I’d never have to say “so…
Long” and “I’ll see you soon”
Spiraling, spiraling into this lonely doom
SAVE ME!!!!!!
Set my soul free
Unlock this prison that keeps our feelings hidden
Rescue my heart
It’s calling out to you
I’ll understand if you block me out
I can sense your fear
I know, I understand, I agree
Even if the Fates tell us we aren’t meant to be
I know you feel this too
Now do you understand this torment that I’m going through?
I am overcome with boundless affection
You have captured me with intellectual perfection.
Beating hearts, tempted souls
Feeling which weren’t supposed to grow
But yet they did and I see it clear
Sweet ……, I wish you near
Wrap you in my arms
Breathe in your scent
Countless hours in thought I’ve spent
In a state of mental disorder, your smiles and face inhabit the center, and the borders
Of my heart
Willing our threads never to part……
Form:
two wee lads grew up in the same village---
with their houses only a short distance away
they became close friends at an early age
playing the same sports, both learning how to
play an instrument, stumbling through early flirtations with
girls & even pondering their prospective futures---
theirs was an unparalleled bromance.
upon the eve of their high school graduation,
one of the young men decided that he wanted to go to school for
marketing---
he wanted to go to school to study what he thought was a lucrative field
so that he would
sooner than later
be rolling in the benjamins---
because, with mucho benjamins came mucho power
and with mucho power came mucho women---
this all made sense to an 18 year old who had
only one thing on his mind.
the other young man was passionate
he was far too passionate to take on the business world
or to involve himself with anything
lucrative at all---
he took it upon himself to pursue his painting
with a few pit stops in other countries along the way
scrapping & meeting new people
meeting more new people & scrapping further.
and while one idea followed a distinct plan
with a definable conclusion in sight,
the other path functioned without any direction
whatsoever &
the very absence of expectation
during the whole of his travels
made the way of the second young man’s life
seemingly much more interesting than the
first’s.
over the years the two individuals lost touch as things
go---
the first graduated college, began working for a big firm,
got married & moved out to the west coast---
the second went the other direction, overseas,
never rooting anywhere for more than a bit of time.
years went by
as years do,
and in time the marketing man climbed the ladder---
his dwelling grew in size
his brood multiplied
and all seemed well in happytown.
the other, whose legs continued to cross
borders, but whose pockets never really jingled much,
he continued, without expectation.
the man with the big house &
the large family &
the jingling pockets
had planned every step so succinctly
that it seemed nothing could fail,
as each individual part thrived on the
greater monolith,
working together from within---
but at age 40 he was killed in a plane crash
with the rest of his family.
the second man kept on traveling,
he kept on painting &
he continues to
expecting nothing from this life.