Long Civilize Poems
Long Civilize Poems. Below are the most popular long Civilize by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Civilize poems by poem length and keyword.
Bwana wanna boogie on safari.
Bwana wanna porter fetch his gun.
Bwana wanna bag a bloody trophy.
Bwana wanna kill it just for fun.
Bwana wanna rumble through the jungle.
Bwana wanna rummage through the bush.
Bwana wanna buy a pagan baby.
Bwana wanna snag himself some tush.
Bwana wanna colonize the tropics.
Bwana wanna rule from pole to pole.
Bwana wanna civilize the heathen.
Bwana wanna circumcise their soul.
Bwana wanna drink his gin and tonic.
Bwana wanna party like a sport.
Bwana wanna play a little polo.
Bwana wanna build a tennis court.
Bwana wanna condo in the suburbs.
Bwana wanna manicure his lawn.
Bwana wanna customize his kitchen.
Bwana wanna throw some burgers on.
Bwana wanna watch a game on Sunday.
Bwana wanna drive an SUV.
Bwana wanna bear the white man’s burden.
Bwana wanna live like you and me.
To take to wings of virtue, peace, philanthropy and truth
White in purity and eyes that spread beset the flight to take
To greater heights imagined dreams too lofty to the test
Be not the single soul as time shall have its trial be
Its consequence, constancy and principle to prove
And what prevails the story read its bravery doth find
Its hero's valor founded on the betterment of all
For this is our oath to civilize our virtue's latitude
Our humanistic element, our affirmation kind
So fall sweet Icarus from grace your soaring altar lifted
To be humbled by the path you chose of useless significance
October 14, 2019
Pick A Title, #10, Blank Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Title #Icarus Falling
Christopher Colombus- Celebrating Genocide
You stepped foot on the birth canal of my ancestors,
pure, sacred, loved.
you smiled.. proceeded with greed.
your civilization like disease.
my people soon were infected
your protest to "civilize" a free nation took flight on the wings of a lie.
you told us were sent by a god.
this god, we wondered, why did he send you to destroy us?
haven't you said he was holy?
haven't you said he was your creator like tunkasila was ours?
yet you take his name and use it for power.
you believe in your great father and all that he says is right,
does he teach you genocide? massacre?
your attempt to destroy a humble people's heart failed.
although you have spilled the blood of my ancestors and forced your beliefs in front of ours
my blood flows far.
i have descended from struggles and will persevere through the desolate world you have created.
while americans celebrate your name,
i believe it is an injustice.
for they too, live in lies.
Not i. Not i who was beaten, belittled, threatened, torn, cursed, stolen.
Oh no, not i.
I stand in the land of my people as Oglala Lakota, proud, humble and heavy hearted.
for the day has yet to come where our home,
mother earth, will be reconnected with the many souls that harvested it,
loved it and praised it in thankfulness and with all honesty.
Christopher Columbus,
on the day your name is celebrated for taking our home,
i hang my head,
in my many days...
your day has never been and will never be,
a good day to die.
-Isabelle Brave Heart, Oglala Lakota
(On 28 June 1914, in the Balkan town of Sarajevo,
an attempt to assassinate a royal Austrian duke
failed miserably ... or did it? Gabriel Princips, one
of the plotters, stopped for a coffee and by chance
saw the duke, sitting in a stalled car, and shot him
dead. This triggered the First World War. Here,
the cafe owner fails to grasp the significance of
what is unfolding.)
Komm hier, Nannerl. Put down that tray. Observe.
It's thus we take the skin off warmed-up milk,
just so. But where's that little fellow gone?
The one stood there. This is his coffee. Look.
The small one, dark and oval in the face,
with piercing eyes ... I know - but will he pay?
One coffee and a madeleine he had,
and looked the type to linger for an hour.
How strange! Go, look. He might be on the street.
Some twenty years, a feeble black moustache.
No, not the corner door - look out the side.
A Slav, of course a Slav! No manly Teuton
would leave by side-street exit. Go and see!
It's typical of them. I know them well.
My name's not Moritz Schiller if I lie.
They're children - so impulsive, petulant -
incapable of seeing anything through.
That's why they need us. Isn't it obvious?
We're like the English, it's our Ireland,
we're here to civilize them. At what cost?
I'd rather train a cat. They're sulky, dull,
perpetually ungrateful ... what was that?
Good God, such noise! You'd think a war was starting,
or the crack of Judgement Day. Nannerl, was gibt?
...For years they both lived there
in the crisp mountain air,
the rolling ridges were their home,
it was not written down,
so what pleasures they found
are only to history known.
Come several years later
word spread of some raiders
attacking the valley for cows,
some claimed that Winisook
from their stocks freely took,
they had to move and do it now.
They formed up a posse
with one Joseph Bundy,
out seeing to avenge his shame,
they pursued the rogue braves,
and as they made their way
in the mountains Winisook was found.
No one could say if he
was the thief they did seek,
but nobody cared all that much.
Bundy saw his rival,
felt his anger in full,
drew his gun to end the man’s luck.
Bundy said, “I must civilize you
by letting daylight into your heart!”
Bundy then took aim, sought to bury his shame,
fired, and the bullet struck hard.
He fell against a tree,
and when his wife did seek
she found him dead, sitting upright,
though the loss truly burned,
she refused to return,
would never more be Bundy’s wife.
By the sight where he died
a new lodge did arise,
she would never be far from his grave,
and with Winisook’s kids
that is just what she did,
and lived there the rest of her days.
They say that tree remained
to speak of this great pain,
right into the last century,
but a railroad came by,
built an embankment high,
now it rests in the earth quietly.
Now the tale is near lost,
three long centuries off,
forgotten except for place names,
like Big Indian town,
the Winisook Lake grounds,
and folklore to speak of their fame.
A wonder why some people does behave suh
Greedy foh dem mattie own
Always want but never like to give
I can't live with these people no moe
Dem does get on my nerve now
A de thinking dem gone change they ways
But it getting worse by the days
Tell meh why we can't be civilize
Is like dem see a plum tree
And ain't waiting fo de plum get ripe
Always wanting the first bite
When you see dem get money
Dem whole attitude change
But when dem get broke
Oh lawd
Dem like uncivilized ape
I can't tek dem now
But every dog get dem day
A gone hide meh fang
And give dem a taste of they own medicine
You wait and see
My house ain't get place fo bad minded people
Period !
Tread not on me, brother!
To live is to expand.
Deterrence! Slay the Other!
Cold core countermand!
Boots a-click-clack, cobblestone.
Midnight raid and how!
Help the boy to hold his own!
Sacred, O my cow!
Written in the ancient s blood?
Time to cause a flood!
Rill and river, ricin, rud!
Break, fade, flash, firewood!
Bats before the bayonets?
Batons too can kill.
Settle in before she sets?
Providence, thy will.
Wild as any modern force?
Stranger than the sea?
Shift, O river, from thy course?
Not the likes of me!
Covert action! Civilize!
Cut them down to size!
Aim for whites of foemen eyes!
Dare to criticize?
Thunder, roll o'er city street!
Alarums to ring!
Riot team, best ye complete!
Jerk them on the string!
Silent aftermath, thy path.
Kingdom, how ye grew.
Pour out poison on the math!
Hope, need talking to...
This has got to stop: Killing our citizens and Police Officers. Fourteen and thirteen year olds by their counterparts, this must stop. We have lost two very virbrant Officers of the Police Department, this can't continue.
It makes me fear my going out and coming in. Praying it's not my turn. All the lives taken are from people who have not reached their full potential in life. Why? We cannot just stand and look, We cannot just look? What can be done?
It is more than sad, going to young people's funerals. Just tell the reason for this senseless violence.
I am a senior and can't understand why this has to be. Is it the laws we have made, that no longer protects us? Have the people changed so drastically, there is nothing to be done? Is it necessary for everyone to walk with firearms? Tell me what is happening.Can we not go back to civilize behavior. Where is all this hate coming from?
I pray no wars between states again. Have we not learned anything?
Girls could not wear pants to school
When I was just a kid
And on our feet were shoes, not sneakers;
That’s just what we did.
We got dressed up on holidays
Or specialized events
Like Broadway shows or graduations;
There were no dissents.
Grown-ups also went to work
In dresses, suits and ties.
Decorum was the rule of thumb then,
Meant to civilize.
We’ve come a long way from those years.
Now there are no set rules
And most would claim they like this freedom;
Dress codes are for fools.
Yet there are times I look around
At people at their jobs
And what I see is the result;
So many look like slobs.
I wouldn’t want restrictions like
The ones we used to know,
But it bothers me that sloppiness
Is now the status quo.
Noble heritage they cannot erase
Ancestor’s plight laid bare for all to see
Tribal identity etched in each face
Invincible spirit their pedigree
Various attempts meant to “civilize”
Expanding demands for more and more land
Pogroms by forced removal terrorized
Extreme suffering they had to withstand.
Only unshakable resolve saw them through
Providing strength to mitigate their fears
Lives lost, yes, their memory we’ll renew
Endless remembrance of the Trail of Tears.
***
December 6, 2019
F G I series 23 tragedy
Brian Strand, sponsor
Submitted 12/20/2018
"Contest 530, Any Form, Any Theme, Up to Max 20 lines" Poetry Contest
Brian Strand, Judge and Sponsor