Long Cinco de mayo Poems
Long Cinco de mayo Poems. Below are the most popular long Cinco de mayo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cinco de mayo poems by poem length and keyword.
Park of unfenced wildness
densely packed in light infused summer
city folk beat paths of free spirited essence
park pigeons squat, survey seniors
in the grip of Tai Chi
to seize a different footing
orchestrated movement
Pigeons in an uncertain watch
wait
anticipating
trusting park folk to feed them
then launch in a flap fury of wings and cooing
to seniors' arms extended, open palms
Tai Chi posing
a tableau of food (mis-read)
open handed offerings?
absent
bird swarmed,
seniors shriek as in a Hitchcock film
their eroded routine
wellness check thwarted
push back 'gainst a flock,
shadowboxing the open air
seniors scatter
take flight in leaps fearful like space walk wandering
re-kindled voltage like lost sex energy lit
spectacle, in bird-winged fear
when movement's no longer the quiet order
we control
Poems composed July 13/2022
Space I am surrounded by space
and in it I'm crowded but yet I am surrounded in the world filled covered with Grace of Him Elohim
Blacked
Darkness shuns the light
In space, blacken in Darkness
I shine
For I am...the
LIGHT
interpretation of my words:
I'm surrounded by the vastness of space,
yet feel crowded,
implying a sense of contrast between
the physical and spiritual realms.
Despite being in a world filled with darkness,
I am covered in the Grace of Elohim,
Encased by His divine protection and love.
Move darkness recoils from the light,
indicating a separation between the two realms.
In the midst of darkness, I shine,
declaring my true nature as the Light.
My soul convey a sense spiritual awareness
Within His divine connection
As I am contrast between light and darkness
Soar I triumph as light over the darkness
I declare and degree my identity as a beacon of light
I who keeps shining my light in the darkness!
Radiance is a testament our testimony
To the power of Elohim's Grace
Soar I shine within His face
I AM of THE LIGHT- I AM GIVING LIGHT
9/5/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2024
May May Be
By Franklin Price
4/25/2015
May may be the nicest month
Of all the dozen best
You may ask why would I say this
Let us put it to the test
The days of winter gone
Freakish April in the past
Flowers are still blooming
We have not seen the last
The days have balmy temperatures
The nights are sleeping cool
Hot Summer days are not yet here
The kids are still in school
I remember dancing 'round the pole
When I was in grade three
Over under round about
Was a lot of fun for me
May has many holidays
In abundance they abound
Can celebrate or commemorate
With silence or with sound
May Day's the first with dancing pole
Cinco de Mayo, Teacher's Day
Victory in Europe
Take your mother out and pay
Don't forget our soldiers
For our freedom lives they give
Memorial Day is at the end
Celebrate the lives you live
For May and all the other months
Last words I say to you
Respect yourself and others
In everything you say and do
"Faith and Fireworks: Cinco’s Call to Remember"
(A Linking Pin Sonnet in Spence Format – Celebratory & Historical)
Remember the cry, the cause, the stand,
Stand for the faith that defended the land.
Land once trembling rose firm and proud,
Proud were the voices chanting aloud.
Aloud rang truth through valley and hill,
Hill of defiance, God’s sovereign will.
Will of the people, backed by the skies,
Skies filled with prayer and warrior cries.
Cries of justice, both fierce and bold,
Bold like prophets, with courage untold.
Untold stories in fireworks fly,
Fly like doves as praises lift high.
High in the heart, faith’s embers still glow,
Glow bright each year on Cinco de Mayo.
© Professor Dr. Joseph S. Spence Sr. (Epulaeryu Master). All Rights Reserved. 5/5/25.
Way down yonder,
Where the cactus grow.
The wind blows hot,
The day moves slow.
It's siesta time,
In the afternoon.
Then people shine,
Under crescent moon.
The music plays,
Beneath the stars.
The joyful dance,
To twin guitars.
A tequila shot,
A wedge of lime,
A pinch of salt,
It's fiesta time.
The men make sure,
To tip their hat.
The young would stand,
While the elders sat.
The smiles are plenty,
The tears are few.
The food is spicy,
And the women too.
As night time ends,
And all had fun.
The weary mass,
Would greet the sun.
With heart's content,
And feeling blessed.
They'd journey home,
Once more to rest.
poetry
deep sentiments expressed through the pen,
hard to say why it flows and when,
it is a signature of thoughts that are formed within,
said with tears or smiles without guilt or feelings of sin!
the turbulent stream that carries the life rafts about,
has twists and turns in a dark maze of its own,
journeys are long and exhausting to say the least,
after hours of rowing could be back at the starting crease!
say it freely and say it without hindrance of fear,
like a songbird that sings for its own pleasure,
no audience to applaud or jealous critics to disown,
once written the poetry sails on its own sojourn!
is it about some pain and songs of unfair defeats?
a lost friend or dear one who has left a memory to mourn,
may be a pet that doesn’t answer evening whistle,
or a child that never returned from school!
when loneliness greets life with coffee as only companion,
a half done crossword blocked by repetitive boredom,
when next moment is as predictable as the one that is gone,
when the evening ends and know the next day to be born,
a verse expressed through the heart may bring cheer,
remember to sign it with your heart or smudge it with tears.
10th place
Completely your choice(44)
Brian Strand sponsor
Written 15/01/2021
The rain that fell on the night was of the type pot plants like,
it has stopped the air is mild, and the flowers smiles except the lemon tree
that is born grumpy and bears bitter fruit, which incidentally is good
with fried fish and it refreshes otherwise lame dishes, say fish cakes with
boiled potatoes, a meal crying out for something bitter to hide
the Norwegian boredom food like seeing Oslo`s municipal building
ten times a day. My wife has watered the indoor plants that were green
with envy not being allowed to go outside.
For lunch we are having soup, it has too much pepper in it and again
I have to ask the lemon tree for help as roses are pretty but useless.
Seeks beauty, a prince now age to marry
She in a fruit tree wants bread or fare thee
It happened again
another maiden
Although he had no bread for m’lady
Gypsy with cart, plan wins the maiden back
Witch hidden, with a hairpin she’ll attack
“a golden coin for that bread”
Mishaps all gone, and instead
Prince and maiden married and hit the sack
At times the prince sings happy at times not
King and gardener noticed, worry they ought
The gypsy’s daughter, the witch
hidden in the cart, would switch
The beautiful maiden she was they thought
The prince stumped, “Señora, how dark you've become!"
"The sun has burnt my skin," the witch answered numb
She'd stuck a pin in the hair
of the real maiden’s so fair,
turned into a dove, to the witch she’d succumb
A dove out of the azure sky, flew by
Asked the gardener if the prince was alright
The gardener then told the prince
An amigo ever since
The dove told the prince what happened that night
The prince fell for the little dove trade-in
Yet to discover the secret hairpin
Stroking her, she never fled
When felt the pin in her head
Jerked it out, the dove changed back, a maiden
The prince told the king of maiden's ill fate
The king heard both singing, became irate
The gypsy witch is a fake
and she’ll be burned at the stake!
So the prince married his maiden upgrade
~ and lived happily ever after amigos!
For CINCO DE MAYO
5/5/26
Justice is blind and sleeping,
Lady Liberty is weeping;
We are lying to ourselves
about the state of our society;
Lurking like an ugly word
broadcasted upon a neon sign,
saying ‘Are you sure it’s safe for you?
The people there are all Black.’
Under the guise of inclusion
May the fifth can’t sound Mexicano
‘Be careful with this party,
it can’t be called ‘Cinco de Mayo’.
Lingering like a broken refrain,
We’re really all faking;
Oh, we call it ‘Mediterranean’
we can’t say Afghan,Iraqi or Iranian;
The country is reeling;
Every single one of us bleeding,
to show each other we are all the same.
American sonnet
Today is sunny with a few decorative clouds drifting idly about the sky and the mood is of optimism
When it is overcast and dull my feet scrape the pavement An old man bent to the ground regretting past
When my mother died there was a forest of umbrellas around the hole in damp soil, the rain dripped on her coffin and a golden cross she wouldn't have liked seeing
the symbol of oppression.
The priest, a verger held his umbrella, said a few words
routine words, void of any meaning.
My near family are dead and my own demise is there
like a boulder made of years of spent years, but never mind, it doesn't matter on a sunny day.