Long Colonial Poems
Long Colonial Poems. Below are the most popular long Colonial by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Colonial poems by poem length and keyword.
HELLO SO CALLED FREE WORLD.!! Canada is a
Crown country...So is Australia..For the time being!
Melbourne was put under house arrest for twelve
Months..! For no crime whatsoever..Think on this!
Where is the fair governance?? Is there a valid one?
In Britain the originator of colonial law, Caroline
Farrow is under survaillance for speaking her thought
Jordan Peterson is being shoehorned into a programme
Of so called ( re education ) these people don't know
One another I presume.? What are we witnessing in
The case of the large sized lady shown in sports illustrated
What are we suposed to gather ? Its a sports publication
Are they a beauty magazine? Well I suppose in academic
Summation yes.' As you need a slim and resiliant body
To compete athletically..Yes?? So sports oriented peiople
Would intuitivally think a more leaner body more attractive
To compete, that then affects perception overall, whether
I or whoever sees the wider senario of beauty is not relative
In this context.! Which brings us too, why this cover page
In a sports oriented publication? Or was it just an entrappment ploy.? In both cases what is going on.?
Cry Freedom
Not many Americans know the world is not looking westward they see the fall of the value
they see the poverty of the suffering people who die of curable illnesses because they can’t pay the cost and might sell their house to cover
of capitalistic health service, but let’s put that aside what Trump said about World War 2
It was Russia who won the Nazi war, albeit with
help from the USA; was also Russian soldiers who freed the prisoners in concentration camps
and oversaw the fall of Berlin
For America, it was a profitable war, Europa had
no industry left and got generous loans to start to rebuild a shattered economy
America’s real war was in the Pacific a colonial war against Japan who had taken Indochina which was America’s playground
the US won that war by dropping two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, this caused total surrender and the US was back ruling over Indochina
America as we can see today, was bad rulers
the elevated cruel dictators to rule whose only qualification was obedience to America
Today Indochina is in Bricks and free from the US influence
It looks so sweet,a pity it wasn't sung
Is there hope for what future may hold?
For faces I had thought we're gay
I saw were lined with care
Life unbelievably was clear
And vividly was clear
My lord,where shall I place my bribe?
Then society cheats itself
Billions lost publicly
Big brains lynched
Commoners suffer the wrath of the mighty
Failure justified
What kind of times are these?
The drought and the hunger
Shocking levels of unemployment
Flooded homes, flooded homes for 56 years?
Turbulence in quarantine centres
Others opting for death
The primeval beast devouring us
Turning dreams into nightmares
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the years
It matters not how straight the gate
In the fell clutch of circumstances
My head is bloody but unbowed
The night has been long
The morning I look through your anguish
Clap hands,let's leave the preening
And stop impostering our own history
They cursed our intrusion of peace and the sun's
Intrusion of his shade
Colonial judges
Cobras uneasily lying side by side
Left to roam and bite again
No narrow fancy
Full fifty six years of exile
It has never been so profound
Solitude have I to endure?
And that's the way it should be!
ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF COUNTRY
“We acknowledge the Traditional Owners and Custodians of the lands on which we work and pay our respects to Indigenous Elders past, present and emerging. Sovereignty has never been ceded. It always was and always will be, Aboriginal land.
We recognise the past atrocities against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples of this land and that Australia was founded on the genocide and dispossession of First Nations people. We acknowledge that colonial structures and policies remain in place today and recognise the ongoing struggles of First Nations people in dismantling those structures. The struggle to seek justice, to remember and address this nation’s past is ongoing and is a necessary requirement for individual and collective healing process.
We support the Uluru Statement from the Heart to achieve justice, recognition and respect for First Nations people and a referendum to enshrine a First Nations Voice in the Constitution. We accept the invitation contained in the Statement to walk together with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in a movement of the Australian people for a better future.”
“A Darker Shade of Light”
(First Nation Australia from mind of whitefella)
My people
see your people
simple ignorant
crazy greedy
black cockatoo
laughing eyes
smiling angry
all seeing
spit signature
fingers spread
on hands pointing
bones at my people
ochre powder
yellow cake
red earth bleeding
white fella
yellow belly snake
blowing out
the fires of our
stolen children
torn from our
mob, not yours
swallowed
by your
gadaidja fangs
sinking into the skin
of our land
poison
all around
greedy gubbah
when will you
understand
our nation
not your flag
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Our relatives is our problem
The colonial empires
Has left Africa
So we thought that was
The beginning of a total redemption
We rejoiced cos we thought
It was freedom at last
We embrace our own
Our very own brothers
Our very own indigenous relatives
What more could we ask for
Our relatives is our problem
The colonial empires
Has left Africa
Yet Africa is not free
Our very own brothers and sisters
Has taken over
With the same iron fest
Our very own indigenous relatives
Is now our own problems
They are no different from the strangers
They are dark but so different
Despite how much we trusted our own
Yet our highest pain
Come from our very own
Brothers and sisters
Meant to be the answers
To our redemptions.....
Though I posted the following poem
(B)efore (C)ovid, a sense
of glee donned my being
the notion arose to trumpet anew
said literary handily crafted endeavor.
Not far from here – Perkiomen Valley -
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
regular folks going about their business
unwittingly participated in history,
a couple scant few years
after the American Revolution.
Two hundred forty three
(12.3 score) years ago
countless stripling soldiers
strapping farming homeboys
healthy agrarian lads
raised among generations
unseasoned lads in summer re:
offspring original settlers heirs
family acreage encompassed
wide uninterrupted forested swaths
across sprawling vistas
sparsely populated enclaves,
now heavily industrialized
lovely bones occupying
unmarked never known graves
buried amidst avast
cleft rapacious urbanization
long forgotten innocent youths
hailing within then bucolic
Montgomery, Delaware and Chester county
forsook their young precious lives
voluntarily promising sons
risking life and limb
more often former versus latter
sacrificing stripling flesh
encompassing urbanized tracts
quite familiar to yours truly
suddenly made aware
unbeknownst till yesterday
informative literary handiwork
titled "A Glimpse of Freedom"
engagingly written by Douglas Shupinski
details innocently naive country bumpkins
sacrificing potential sweat of brow,
albeit grueling labor
fostering holistic existence
transforming boyz to men
hardened green soldiers
into battle weary fighters
regarding, kickstarting, envisioning
inchoate cause named freedom
emancipating fledgling America
against British throne
awareness percolates,
perturbs, permeates psyche
synchronizing, manifesting, galvanizing
how past historical events
within close proximity,
where I mostly resided
since birth, now experience
absorption, communion, edification...
with dead souls
nearly deathly quiet
only most perceptive can detect!
They chained my ancestors so I would break free from the shackles of slavery.
They colonized my family tree so I would embrace freedom through dissidence.
They imprison my kin so I may wield my convictions as weapons of war.
They imposed the plagues of capitalism on the colonial trading posts that sharpened my clarity.
I will never be their favorite house *****.
They sanctified racial hatred as if there were multiple human races.
I was schooled in the colonial classroom, yet liberty and equality keep me from blindly singing the praises of fraternity.
I know that some dark skins were born with the genetic code of betrayal.
I am a Sub-Saharan animist, aware of my Africanness, on a planet hostile to my humanity.
Born of the cradle of the first human beings,
those bloodthirsty colonizers disguised themselves as missionaries to violate the dignity of my people for centuries.
They want me to drown my determination in the maze of the illicit.
They want me to be their scapegoat when they seek to conceal their incompetence.
I will never accept being the doormat on which they wipe their filthy feet.
I will never be the lectern for the Negrophobic and supremacist stereotypes they’ve kept alive since their so-called abolitions.
I am not only free: I am a rebel they will try to marginalize.
Their devilish schemes will have no effect,
for I am the product of the slums of an Africa persecuted since the Arab-Muslim slave raids.
I have never been a native subject, but I like to reread meticulously the Code Noir through Colbert’s own eyes, so as not to be one more blind man facing the savagery of the makers of the black bomb.
I stand in the skin of an undocumented immigrant who can never be assimilated after being “Frenchified” in the furnaces of colonial cruelty.
I will never trust the Republic of Slave-Trading Enlightenment.
These compulsive racists want to see me dehumanized in the slave plantations of their supremacist alienation,
just as they did to my forebears for centuries in Africa and the Caribbean.
No Primus Inter Pares
Germans at the Costa Brava they just cannot yield
‘Brava’ the fight and they are conquering once more
Always the first on the beach or the striped deck chair but
The towel goes right up front and then they have breakfast
They claim their place in the sun and colonize the pool
I’m not a racist am German myself light skinned at dawn
Prejudice Discrimination Stereotype or double innocent vision
When too much sun meets a squinting eye of any beholder
Ready with parasol and sombrero and not enough lotion
To make sure I blend colourfully in and pretend I am native
Ingenious maybe but indigenous nowhere near but at my home
Not first under equals just one of the travelling circus’ crowd
I stake my claim forget all about physics in diabolical parable
Parabolic distant same old points and lines but when will I learn
That the sun scorches at high noon whatever I attempt
That horizons only widen when travelling in much truer fashion
Far and further afield immersion in less indifferent ventures
Brings me closer to peace to my own roots unburdens my search
I’ve seen the Taj Mahal under a midnight moon shadow absorbed
The Grand Canyon looked for precious Yellow Stone wisdom
Pyramids at Giza tear gas at Tahrir Square caves in Cappadocia
Never setting sun in Rovaniemi Omaha Beach and trenches in Belgium
I took local busses towards nowhere with no imminent return
No plan no target no defined ambition not steps merely ticked
Call me a voyeur in slums townships or favelas a frotteur with no towel
But I was made welcome once I shed my emperor’s colonial clothes
My luxury problems became smaller when I returned to the start
The gifts of the present the past and my very privileged future
One way or another I cannot and need not shed European origin
But my Universe has become less ignorant and a bit more unsure
23th July 2018
I woke up in a dream on a coast I've never seen
But somehow in a way, I knew I'd be here one day
I'm detecting a touch of Spanish, language it is not
All I see is leaving Galleon's, raped, now forgot
I'm seeing centuries before me, colonial now so free
The Japanese like them before, ravaging in spree
On a beach I walk to the light, attracting I to enter
I'm there, as I walk through, my viewing now centred
Into this lush land I walk, not knowing where I'll be
There's something that desires, I'll know when I see
Walking, walking, walking, it's all I appear to do
Clearer my mind becomes, I know I'm walking to you
Further my weakened feet, stride through their weak
I know at the end of my journey, I'll meet whom I seek
A village, a town nears, as I look back to whence I came
Awakening in this dream, praying this person feels the same
.
On the Greatest country on this Earth
The American, country of their birth
Sioux, Cree Apache
Native Indians all of thee
For generations they hunt and live
Summer bloom, Winter sieve
Move their tribe on freedom lands
Explorers show their poisonous glands
Spaniards, British French too
Expect to take your lands from you
Many battles many deaths
Arrows against weaponry strength
Colonial life's as races bond
Indian kids haired blonde
Civilisation hope, wars fade
Has this great country made the grade
This country takes another turn
Neighbours, fight and burn
The North and South differ so
Free the slaves, let them go
Awesome words from Abe the man
Freedom to all, his major plan
But blinkered sight from those so grand
Who actually owns this wonderful land
Decades pass, the States grow
Neighbour hoods flourish - flow
American Hispanic, ***** too
Europeans like me and you
But sadly in the background mist
The most important has been missed
Do i need to tell you who they are?
Indigenous Man, your ultimate clan
They are The American
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/native-americans.php