Long Civil Poems
Long Civil Poems. Below are the most popular long Civil by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Civil poems by poem length and keyword.
Civil War inspired by media.
Civil War dividing us by black and white.
Civil War dividing us by religions and beliefs.
Civil War screaming all liberals are this.
All Republicans are that.
All Democrats are the other….
The propaganda to divide u s
is labeling us in a lump category daily.
All rights….
All lefts….
I hate liberals, my sister says.
She never had an opinion until now.
Facebook takes down all of her videos.
They say she is inciting violence.
She was never a Democrat or a Republican or a Trumpster
until now.
Media, what are you doing?
Media, why do you want us divided?
Civil War was no fun in 1863, and it will not be fun now.
Brother against brother, wife against husband, black against white.
Media, if you have to do anything, please talk about
Taxation without representation
Because until we know our vote counts as much as everyone else’s vote,
We will continue to be malleable, and angry and upset.
Media, let’s abolish The Electoral College.
Isn’t it time you fought for the greater good?
To offset what you have done to tear us apart?
I've said, "Leave me alone" when I didn't mean it.
Yes, I've said "Yes" when I wanted to say "No".
I consented to go, when I did not want to go.
I kept walking when I really wanted to run.
ET could not stay; so, he asked Elliott to come.
Elliot could not go; so, he asked ET to stay.
They desired deeply to be with each other,
But they could not give up the only world they knew.
"Come", said ET. "Stay", said Elliot. Thus is a portrait
of the inner conflict of two diverse species. Conflicts
involving people or persons of varying persuasions
are placed in a category known as 'Conflict Resolution'.
Inner conflicts suggest that I am alone with at least two
points of contention inside of me. It suggests that I have
a problem that I, not 'they', must fix. It's a civil war. Life
makes its demands, and by conflict, we survive, thrive, or die.
By inner conflict we learn to utilize whatever is served
at our table, as well as whatever cards we are dealt.
As humans, we have not been dealt the luxury of instinct
as our compass of choice. We are creatures of uniqueness.
We are distinguished and endowed by our creator with the demands
of choice. Quite often, the multiple choices within us conflict, and
we must resolve to halt the war and solve the unsolvable. A question
arises: Is there both a positive and negative charge inside of us?
081622PSCtest, Inner Conflict, Unseeking Seeker
Hello. I am Jim Crow, and I was born in America after the Civil War and met my fate many years later after much civil unrest. You may have never encountered me, but some things about me you might already know. I was not a real person, but rather a caricature designed to berate, distort, and ridicule an entire race of people. I represented a system, behind which stood millions of people. They gave birth to and upheld me proudly, using me to implement their blood-letting ideas.
I caused lots of pain, inflicted massive wounds, and was responsible for the death of many innocent people. A psychological nightmare, I had no desire to change; but I was left with little to no choice. You see, people create the systems they want to live under. People and their ideas changed; perhaps others simply disappeared to fight another day. So I also changed, and more precisely, also disappeared. Most of my closest friends would rather pretend that I never existed.
I resided in the southern region and inflicted innumerable emotional scares on certain people. My social order demanded that there be separation of Blacks and Whites. I know. You heard and read about "Apartheid" in South Africa; in America, it was me, Jim Crow.
I must say that it was not my idea to talk about these things. I along with others were given the theme, "Let's Talk About It", and was asked to write something about abuse. So I decided to write about emotional abuse, the type I'm most familiar with. I inflicted lots of it; so I ought to know; I'm Jim Crow. The inhumane treatments to my fellow humans are too numerous to note. I never believed they were humans anyway. Realistically, the only thing inhuman was me, Jim Crow.
As history now reveals, I am no longer around, needed, or desired. I wrecked and ruined lives, causing havoc upon generations of people until the whole nation said, "Enough!". I'm Jim Crow.
8317PS,Let's Talk About It, Richard L., 1P Personification
The Electoral College
By Franklin Price
9/17/2017
The Electoral College is outdated they say
Should never have been, and is not for today
They say that the people are not having their way
That the College votes wrong, for the right kind of pay
Do those people who say that, understand why it's there?
Do they know what would happen, or do they even care?
Is the majority vote, always something that's fair?
Keep your mind open, as you read this, I dare.
We are a republic, not a democracy
Government is by the people in this land of the free
But there are fifty states, in this country you see
All have an interest, not only just three
Each state independent and each has its rights
If you think that's not true, think of Civil War fights
The people, of all states, must each have a say
If the College was gone that would not be the way.
The Federal based government does not give a damn
About ones in Alaska, might as well be Siam
Not enough people to get their flim flam
Or add to their power and get them more ham
We're in need of less power in that Washington place
Each state should have rights, and their spot in the race
Isn't it time for less egg on our face?
To govern this country with style and with grace
To do away with the College would make matters worse
Larger states would have deeper hands in our purse
More budget to them would cause small states to curse
Already pay taxes that are not reimbursed
You can see less have more in this land of the rich
They need not pay taxes, trickle down is their pitch
Taxes come from the middle and there life's a *****
If the college was gone, it would add to the glitch
The College should stay, if we really care
For each of the states and the residents there
If we really are interested and want to be fair
Make the Feds less controlling of the laws in their lair
Funny thing this idea sport
In a way it acts like a fort
Something there
Making some stop and care
Away from being a winner
Being a topical conversation over dinner
Debating information
Discussion which team your team is facing
It’s a friendly fight
With a peaceful might
Quite comical when in sight
Taking a word like ‘fan’ short for “fanatic”
In Fort Sport one needs to control emotion not panic
Such an interesting fort
This sport
There is a score
Where the champion has more
Fort Sport has a way to make a buck
Merchandising images to show support while wishing good luck
A pound or pence
Could be dropped in one’s defense
Put a dollar on to get fifty cents back
That is if things go as planned and no one gets sacked
Fort Sport is a place that is prepared
To handle any nasty affair
A facility
That has the ability
To tend
And mend
Those who bleed
And are in need
Even better Fort Sport
Holds a court
To find something out
Through the screams and shouts
Releases a warning
Catching the evil storm under its protective awning
Fort Sport is a chip
A prop written as an athletic script
Addressing a problem
Before the enemy reports ‘I got them’
Fort Sport has a part
That solves conflict before they start
Monitoring this process
Outing a mess
Wrestling it to the ground until it confess
Allowing tomorrow to be another time to show fortune and fame
Filling Fort Sport again the house for the civil war game
A scant twenty years
grieved a century or more
Poetically perfect
in spirit and lore
A man and his horse
alone on the range
The cattle his instrument
and music to play
Civil War veterans and blacks
from the South
Through dust and dark clouds
even blizzards they mount
Together they battled
in concert they fought
Each unto himself
through prairies uncrossed
The hardship and death
to him worth the price
Pushing always ahead
a stranger to fright
The only thing branded
to be left at the end
Was the legend he gave us
— and the message it sends
(Cowboy Poetry Gathering: Elko Nevada, February, 2017)
This house was part-founded by the nobles
Who counseled the monarchs of our land
Then strengthened by the Magna Carter
Signed by King Johns’ royal hand
At first its foundations were rocky
As house and monarchs just couldn’t agree
On decisions, and who had the final say
From time to time, it would end violently
As in the 17th century with civil unrest
Between the Kings’ Cavaliers and the roundheads
The house, led by Cromwell, won the war
King Charles alas, ended up dead
The clash between house and Kings ended
With the ‘Glorious Revolution’,
And the passing of ‘the Bill of Rights’
Giving rise to our Constitution
The house since then has seen changes
At the passing of each new decade,
With the Constitution amended
As each new bill has been made
Today the house has elected officials,
The peoples ‘voices’ to represent
Standing proud in the name of democracy
This old house that is our Parliament.
Yes, I affirm, I have seen God
But He appeared and then disappeared
This knowing that transcends mind, left me awed
But until what’s imbibed is assimilated, by fears I’m seared—Unseeking Seeker
Espied my footprints in desert sands, longing to encounter Him in the Holy lands
Vision Cinematic once upon a time suspended from Homers stauros—a sign?
Hither poet ere Christ what visions may he have come across, perchance mine?
Ever adorning this landscape eternal, reborn and risen to us in the season vernal
Cedar beam deeply implanted into arid barren beach no protectorate of Rome
Crimson robe flows about His loins as I peer down from up on high Shalom
Seashore I’ve known since childhood’s joy so rare hence my vision surfaced there
Vision Cinematic once upon a time, from above the clouds I glimpsed a slaying
Azure sky morphs bright sea breeze upon His bleached dry raven locks swaying
Perhaps the Holy Land now rendered elusive I shall grasp my vision conclusive
In conclusion equate a temporary optimistic life, possibility is where I dwell in
For fear of the Old barbate God, His hell is patient, awaiting, we who know sin
The Almighty all-knowing sees all, whilst on His thrown, Lily White glowing thru
Tell me, is the God of Old Testament different from the God of the New?
Heaven's sake, why go in reverse, for this a mythic trap, a route traverse
Wrestling with their own faith, they’re serving The Book of Skaith
Erosion of civil liberties, fueling genocide and weakening sovereignties
Dear Lord, if this is what art thou to those on the face of thy side?
Let it be I won’t reside, search then I will, new platforms where I may hide
A vision once upon a time, Cinematic of what images were to me familiar
But now the path is clearer, love’s the only answer in a world abound with failure
On the first day of curfew, I defiantly walked the streets,
but was soon escorted back home by my local police.
On the second day of curfew I walked the streets again as well,
but spent the rest of the evening locked up in a holding cell.
On the third day of curfew I sat in front of my building all night,
until a squad car arrived and told me to get inside.
I had hoped that many more would have joined me,
but everyone is so afraid to stand up to authority.
Defiant to the end I will always be,
when it comes to preserving our freedom and civil liberties,
but for all of my efforts, I will most likely,
end up at some Guantanamo Bay like facility.
There is a party of love and everyone is invited
It’s an open kind of affair,
Come as you are, stay as long as you like.
And while it’s being sponsored by their parents
It’s really a party of the young.
The beauty of it though
Is that this younger generation
With its open, welcoming and civil vibe
Is setting the tone for the rest of this century.
This is the dawning of the Golden Age
Of peace and prosperity
Older people speak of
But which, of course, has to come from the younger.
Right now they are called Gen Z,
But eventually they will be remembered
As Generation MAGA.
(9/12/25)