Long Civilly Poems
Long Civilly Poems. Below are the most popular long Civilly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Civilly poems by poem length and keyword.
Faces were all aglow this Yuletide with happiness unrestrained!
With ancient carols sung by jubilant choirs we were entertained!
Good folk generously shared their love, fellowship and cheer!
Why can't we celebrate the Christmas Spirit throughout the year?
Malls and avenues were resplendent with glittering decorations.
Gracious folk included less fortunate ones in their celebrations.
Excited children visited Santa Claus, their anxieties to allay.
Why can't we foster the Christmas Spirit each and every day!
Even the dourest of "scrooges" were in a cheerful mode!
Why, even drivers were courteous to others on the road!
Pleasantries were civilly exchanged by rival politicians!
Can't we keep Christmas alive without onerous preconditions?
Kith and kin wished each other warm Yuletide regards,
Including Happy New Year greetings in their Christmas cards!
Speaking of the ensuing year, wouldn't it be great,
To keep Christmas in our hearts free of prejudice and hate!
'Twould be so very simple to keep Christmas twenty-four seven,
If we'd follow The Golden Rule espoused by that Gift from heaven!
To keep alive the Christmas Spirit as our noble goal,
It must begin in each of us flowing from our very soul!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 3 in Sweetheart of Poetry Soup's "Christmas In July (Men's)" Contest -Jul 2010
The chancy countdown clock of my mortality
is ticking toward some unknown preset alarm.
I’m aware of every taciturn tick tock
in unrecoverable moments spent waiting
for something to happen…
and I do not wait well.
I wait for stiff slices of tanned toast to pop up.
I wait for the microwave’s proclamatory ping.
I wait for endless dreary drizzle to stop.
I wait for supplemental shoes to drop.
I wait for stern scarlet stoplights to glow green.
I wait for stalled responses to emailed queries.
I wait for weighty debts to be repaid.
I wait for market losses to regain.
I wait for unsure recovery from illness.
I wait for a time and place of serene stillness.
I wait to watch news that makes me feel happy…
instead of sadly numb from unrelenting horror.
I wait for a time when love and peace…
are not hammered by hate and violence.
I wait for our warming forests to stop catching fire.
I wait for AI to prove its promise rather than peril.
I wait for a clogged Congress to civilly meet in the middle.
I wait for common sense and facts to regain a following.
I wait for a time when cynicism concedes to optimism.
I wait for the long dark night of our collective souls to end.
I wait for the culmination of all things, large and small.
I wait for a time when all our waiting concludes.
I wait for anticipatory hope of Advent and Eschaton
to authentically, faithfully, finally, feel real to me.
But I’m mired in my own limited perception.
I need another perspective for waiting well.
I recall my life spans just an eye-blink slice
within deep, astronomical, cosmic time.
From the Big Bang to the Bethlehem star
over thirteen billion years passed by,
a very long Advent time indeed.
God must be very good at waiting.
(First published in Valiant Scribe Literary Journal (Issue V, Winter 2024) 46-47. See also my poems “Star of Wondering” and “Bringing Heaven to Earth.”)
Offensively defensive posturing
No stopping in sight
No reflection in view
Poisonous to everyone around you
Syphoning greed at record speed
Unchecked unseen
Hollowing the land
Blindly defending your position
Against any raised hand
Any voice of reason
How did we even get here?
We’d have to go back
160 years or so
To explain what should have been buried
A hatred left to fester
A war lost but never truly ended
We rebel against suppression
Understandably so
Sometimes history demands it
An opportunity was missed
The undercurrent of hate
Bubbled up unchecked
A backlash exacted
160 years in the making
A theft imagined
A grievance never real
Where ignorance never left
A way of life
Thought to be put to rest
Was allowed to linger
Civilly unbalanced
Cutting down and
Cutting short lives
The symbolism
The sentiment
Front and center once again
Stirring old fears
Handed down like inheritance
Times change
Some things stay the same
Worse than the hate
Is the silent acceptance
Silence is a choice
One we can break
To the U S government
and all your worthless bureaucratic agencies,
but also more importantly
to all you global bankers especially.
Check out my FaceBook page occasionally,
because I have a lot to say about all of you Publicly,
on Facebook for all willing to learn and read.
You Now Have An Enemy Who Will Bring You All Down To Your Knees
Non Violent, Disobedient Civilly and Peacefully,
by enlightening the willing to listen about your devious deeds.
I will name names, I will layout to everyone your maniacal plan,
to dictate the entire world and not just my once very great land.
I will expose all of you to the world in a way they will all fully understand,
My Facebook page is going to be,
One Of The Few Reliable News Sources Available To Everybody.
You messed with the wrong dissident son of a witch,
when you placed me on your terrorist watch list,
but thanks for that kick in my but that now has motivated me,
to never stop fighting, never to stop informing EVERYBODY
the Real Threat you and yours pose to A FREE SOCIETY,
and exactly how little by little you are enslaving My Country.
I'm going to expose all the crimes against humanity all of you did.
I'll expose your Treason, all the worldwide conspired horrors you still commit.
I'll turn over every rock, every single skeleton in your god forsaken closets.
You are my Goliath and I am your David.
You got TheKidster angry, and that was very stupid.
I am Not ANONYMOUS
ANONYMOUS signs off with Expect Us.
I am just a man you have made extremely angry.
I sign off with,
EXPECT ME
BILLY TheKidster on Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/billy.thekidster
Antipas was one of many heirs of Herod the Great
Morally and civilly, he had fallen from his state.
His kingdom, a collapsed castle, he couldn't reinstate.
Sinning with brother's wife, shamelessness had become his fate.
Like raindrops on a bison, did John's censures sadden him?
Like venom, the wrath of Herodias filled her to brim.
The extant of Baptist, she thought, like a twig she should trim
Didn't she, as a queen, have the right to amuse her whim?
By the fame of Jesus as though life-threat, Herod baffled.
His human and animal instincts between them battled.
Curiousness and qualm, like flatware, within him rattled
Has John resurrected? Physique and Psyche fell fear-grappled
Does the sun fear the darkness? Jesus fulfilled his mission.
To build his realm of love, did he need Herod's permission?
At the capitol rotunda
Two senators faced off on
Gun rights versus oversight
Each side bunkered in
Intractable, their way to win
Sharp tongued irate debate
Open thinking went kerplunk
Head to head, noses pressing
Like two rams rutting
One grabbed a neck
The other ruffled hair
Both leaned into a scrum
Onlookers aghast
Heavy breathing, jackets flung
Ties askew, faces flushed
Veins a popping
Fists were clenched, my heart pounding
Spit and foam tossed about
Two old mad dogs yelping
Spin left once, then spin right
Round and round these two locked
Like a chopper blade taking off
Leather shoes and legs flyin'
Scuffing on slippery rotunda floor
Lots have slithered across before
Muffled echoes off the walls
Don't think a punch was thrown
Guards ran in to break the spin
Pull the swirl apart
Just like a gooey sticky bun
'Cept it weren't no fun
Hands grasping foe to foe
Darts of insults still flashing
Reddened eyes, teeth gnashing
Heads adjoined they'd go
Caught their breath, stood up straight
Falling back into friendly hands
Mumbled shards yet flying
They walked away slumping
Like two Humpty Dumptys
Disheveled putting themselves together
Each insisting they were "kerrect"
With hastened breath
I saw it all unfold
Watchers shuffling in doubt
As they usually do
It was a war, weren't no spat
They'll never forget, count on that
See it all on the evening news
Did it change each other's views?
Can we ever talk civilly?
Common Ground is the Solution
So that was yesterday's kerfuffle
Adjudicated by muscle
What was it that you said
about English law traditions
with two heads
One for protecting real property rights
of monotheistic kings
to autonomously legislate their deeds
by dogmatic decree
Unchanging entitled ownership
of land
and all commodities upon Her
Royal manifest destiny over upstarts
serfs
soldiers
and tenants,
too much consumers,
and not enough producers
Descendents of dark slaves,
another form of living property,
livestock
chattel.
Meanwhile, this other mysterious line
inherited from some Mother's polytheistic culture
which might more civilly prevail
for restoring peaceful domestic issues
about equity,
fairness,
balance between cooperative managers
ecosystemic nurturing matriarchs
marginalized by conservative elitists
royal corporate capitalists
monopolists
straight white monotheists
More court-friendly to liberal democratic lovers
EarthTribal co-investors
polyculturalists
endowed with indigenous
bicamerally balanced
ego/ecosystemic wisdom
of economic and political
co-investment
cooperative co-ownership
EarthJustice stewardship.
I'm asking because,
if it please the Royal Capital Court,
and even if it too democratically doesn't,
To autonomously own living property
is against my sovereign religious beliefs
Both immoral
and illegitimate
to lord it over plants
and people on organic cooperative lands
and in global co-invested waters
recovering our sacred MotherEartha
planetary resonant health,
resilient past through future wealth
Advocating for and with polycultural Communion,
pleading and bargaining for health justice
and safe peace
for All EarthTribal Souls.
~ An American Fantasy ~
After the BIG meeting, the donkeys went to meet the press
What? No microphones? Where were they? -- anyone's guess
The elephants followed and seemed confused
Perhaps the equipment blew a fuse
So they all went back, talked civilly for a while
Decided to give collaboration a trial
When they met again, they even compromised
No microphones, no problem ~ a welcome surprise
___________________________________________________
Note: In case politics does has not yet consumed you: Donkeys
are the mascot of the Democratic party in the USA. Elephants
are the mascot of the Republicans. (Pretty weird, eh?).
Looking out my high-rise window
I can see shy Beauty
of civilly responsible
bird sheltering trees
Five of these
tunneling through man-made holes
in monotonously grey cement
step aside walks.
Lonely in my city window
I can see the desecrating drama
and trauma
inflicted on Gaia's organic integrity
Toxic shelters
treacherous streets
polluting smokestacks
Oil and gas fueled
Made In America
uncivil lack of holy natural
safe shelter.
Longing in my caged window
I can hear sirens screaming
and a car alarm
warning us it feels threatened
by incorporated investments
In pain
dispassion
pollution
anthropocentric dissolution.
On less barren days
when looking out this same window
I feel freer to learn
from trauma's malformed mystery
Looking up
at Gaia's heavenly sky
less troubled by unearthly anthro-hubris
as compared to trans-continental
pocked landscapes.
I notice how I feel
when looking outside
at the boarded-up house
across the street
As compared to
the organically organized green park
behind it
filled with sacred sheltering trees
Now quieting Earth's suffering
by singing with Her
up-reaching crowns of rooted trees
dancing to a holy breeze.
Through cotton thistles
A young woman walks embroidering tears
With a seven month old
That moves and dreams in her womb.
The boyfriend who impregnated her
Has put a chastity belt on her
Throwing the lock
And taking the key
It is not known to what place.
Some voices count
How was it in summer
The groom turned into a frog
When the sun came up.
Every time the unborn
Kicking her in the belly
Her joy turns to sorrow
Thinking that when he is born
If he is born
She will be a single mother.
Single and miserable
She will spend her sad nights
Dreaming in the footsteps of a man
That with the key
Is coming to open the lock.
-Who cries at night?
A doubly unfortunate young woman
That her only fault was
Open her legs to Love
And be locked up
The chastity belt
That the boyfriend gave her penance
For getting pregnant
Getting ahead and behind
Her honor, her life and her heart
Leaving her at the expense of a child
That maybe will be born
Dead and cold in her arms.
The evil boyfriend
Wanted to get into a priest
Or commit suicide as a traitor
Thinking twice
And coming to her
Cumming with pleasure
To meet hisa son
And, with her, make love again
Next to some bushes.
They have already been married civilly
They can now see the moon and the sun together
And go to the summer pools
The boy, who is going to be a boy
Will meet his father
And the mother will not be criticized by anyone.
-Mom, I want a boob, the son will say.
-Give me Love from your chest, the father will say.
-Again the ing¡
Mother will think.