Long Comers Poems
Long Comers Poems. Below are the most popular long Comers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Comers poems by poem length and keyword.
The page has turned, the weather has changed into something far more new,. Dreams take off into existence, the slow comers who made their way in, now own it all, the weak and brave, the lost and the Achiever's.
A golden ticket to the road of opportunities, a try in the world means everything. The eye that judge, the wooden door that closed shut, the cruel words that you will never be more than your father was. We tell'em, I'll be all that I can be to the death of me.
My walk is just a challenge but life is hard to breathe; walk with me and see the problems America face in these streets. Even the good people cry out, Lord it's hard to breathe.
Butterflies and sunshine. What's wonderful and accomplished something can't be seen, the journey of blood sweat and tears, now has been taking over by love and care. The reach was something more then I ever could have imagined. The walk was a long journey and the roads was rough, and the chaos of the world was on that path. They reach to pull you down, thank God we make it, the world failures became winners and bored leader's into the world.
The fight is never over and the life of a struggle just means you fight harder. The doors is open, the start of something new lead to a happy ending.
The minds and visions, the voices that we will never make it in this beautiful world. We are survivors in the land of the free, the enjoyment of something new, something I knew will be if I just kept fighting.
A try in the world means everything!
Have heard the tales of thee,how the
emotionless night of thee capsize the ship,how the mountains and sea shake at your voices .
Have heard the tales of thee ,how the red banquet left no survival
Have heard the tales of thee, how the ship divided into two and brothers went war with another.
Ojukwu and Gowon lead the liberation
war come and go, but the flumes are close to our eye full with smoke of
emptiness and pains .
You took much with you to the battle that you never came back home
Your mother waited for thou arrival but heard the echo of thou funeral.
Your overzealous, worrisome, soldier.
You left a footprint of immortality
full of stories of different writers
You took hiding things your grave ,so much secret that no one knows.
Should I judge thee by what am told ?
who will tell your story?
So history will be fair to the comers.
who want to open the wound
that the divided ocean?
should I call thee a villain or hero ?
time will tell.
oh! Nzeogwu, Time will tell the true
no secret under the sun.
The blood banquet took us to pain of no return
oh too much pain,so much sorrow
Men fall like trees,women buried their young's , starvation became a weapon
Enable harmless men buried alive .
oh! who will tell the story of umaji
asaba cried of blood ?
Okpanam bath in ocean of blood bcos that is where your kinsmen sit.
Born to oshimili river
not that you leave in oshimili
your heart belongs to the North.
You never saw it coming
not your plan to cause pain.
you never took the shortcut to death,
You mounted to the battle front.
left like the wind,your flumes covers the air.
the smoke you set still touch us in the east
the battle still echo like the ocean.
Am just a poet,writer of true...
The Specked one is in question!
She saw such collaborations as againstments
Thought that were verse of her own personal
Interest. Students of the industry; who saw
profitability, and found no way out, if they were
Wrong. They cursed those they knew and spat
On new. comers, finding it easy to disguise there
actions with the intrigue of togetherness.
When the fox and the grouse combined there
efforts against the hawk, the eagle spoke.
When the ram and the sheep collaborated against
the wilddogs; the eagle spoke.
When the bear and the hawk hunted together
the eagle spoke!
Why then be either of these things when we
Must learn to interprete what the eagle speaks?
And might the almighty hands of togetherness
Be spoiled by the eagle.
From the nest, when the wings are spread
Until the flight see's the eagle's needs
Meet, must a world of againstment
The grouse told the fox, the rabbit
Is as gamey as I am, and not to consider
him as alternative, and the the eagle make
Meal of both fox and grouse.
What whispers the goose?
Then what wishpers the goose;
said the grouse that speaks to
the fox as for, and wishes her eggs
to hatch?
Line
Take a second to enjoy the moment.
Slow right down to find fulfilment.
Wait a while to see the change.
You could become spiritual and fly away,
Or remain lost, living life head on,
Accepting all comers, bring it on,
Show me what you got.
If you have anything at all.
Are you a wolf howling at the door?
Or are you Bambi? Is that all you want to be?
Write a book on how to love.
Snap a paint brush when your work is done.
You are not all you have to entertain,
Relax your brain and find a new way,
Float on waves over the pain,
Then draw a line through the fear and win again.
(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
They could grace the cover of a magazine. Meet my colorful flower garden team; So bright and bountiful this spring.
More glorious than ever it seems. The smiling Irises can't wait to be seen; Sitting stately enthroned like beauty queens.
Decoratively surrounded by plenty of green, The big-blossomed roses make their annual scene, Full of red, yellow, maroon, and very pretty pink.
They're on display like a well-orchestrated machine, Some of which lie slightly against the window screen. Like homemade greeters, the cactuses hover over them all,
Yelling loudly to all comers, "Hello yall!" The mulberry tree stands broad and tall, Flashing its shade against the walls.
042320PoSpCtest, Spring Rhyme, Emile Pinet. 11P
FREEPORT RHAPSODY…
(Apropos A Visit Home )
Tired shrimp boats sit moored
along the muddy banks of the Brazos;
their day’s catch iced down and waiting.
Tormenting mosquitoes flew
from puddles of water
pooled between blades of salt grass,
feasting on the fresh blood
of buzzed home comers.
The aroma of seafood gumbo pots
saturated the salt water air; and the clinking
bottle caps signaled the gathering of keno players.
Olympian domino players slap their table tops
with rhythms that rival the best of Art Blakely’s
drumming on a full moon Afro Night.
Teams of bid whist players
played musical chairs.
Over chattering voices, echoes of howling dogs
faded into canine whimpers
as Gulf Coast breeze blew sweet memories:
Indeed there’s no place
like home.
As I Lie Awake Beside You
(with love to Barbara)
By Franklin Price
05/30/2021
As I lie awake beside you
And I breathe each breath you take
I thank God that you're still with me
And of the memories we'll make
Of the times we've shared in life
That our love has brought us through
While looking forward to the future
And the things still left to do
We have always worked together
For “US” to rise above the fray
We've contended with all comers
As we're doing still today
We will bear the weight together
Through our love that never fails
Always reaching out and sharing
Always balancing the scales
Never think you are a bother
Through the hurdles left to tame
It's hardly ever fifty fifty
That's how we've always played the game
Our marriage has been give and take
Through our fifty years and more
If we could live forever
I'd never even out the score
Believe I'll always love you
I'm here for you for every fight
I look forward to our kisses
When we go to bed at night
I was just walking down the street
when it hit me
a quick jab….followed
by a crushing right cross.
I staggered….stunned
by the suddenness of
a seemingly unprovoked attack.
Life, fate, Karma…WHAT!!!
I covered up, rolled, bobbed left,
feinted right, slid along the ropes
found the safety of the corner,
thanked Ali for the rope-a-dope.
I had forgotten the rules of life
“Protect yourself at all times”,
the bell will ring at sunrise
failure to answer the bell
will result in disqualification,
there is no standing eight count
you cannot be saved by the bell,
the bell will ring at sunset.
The sunrise bell summons me
to the center of the ring.
I touch gloves with life,
with fate, with Karma.
The dance begins slowly.
Slide smoothly but quickly,
stick, jab, counter, cover.
To date I have taken on all comers,
dealt with their strength,
outwitted and outlasted the cunning,
outpunched the punchers,
outpointed the pure boxers.
So I stand, battered, but triumphant
in the center of life, hands held high
awaiting another sunrise bell.
A wily, weathered, champion
challenging life, fate, Karma to
“HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT”
“FIRE AWAY”
John G. Lawless
6/19/2015
Picked up first by man in cave
First graffiti for stories they crave
Used by First Nations fire and trade
Wagon wheel trails new comers forged laid
While miners dug deep under the soil
Horse buggy venders many did toil
Stored in homes and sold street to street
Easier lives this was the feat
Used to fire the engine for steam
Steam powered ships imagine the dream
Shovel by shovel strong men did heave
Black coals value like diamonds believe
Black diamond coal was driving a nation
Rail to rail connecting each station
Put to good use to stoke the industrious
Building up future future Illustrious
Jobs were created with easy combustible
Into the furnace producing industrial
Heating giant cauldrons ore in a pot
Producing the steel we need a lot
Fossil fueled war one and a two
Quickly after technology grew
Tiny black diamond magical rock
Picked up by man not only chalk.
8/3/16 for black diamond contest
Quail Run
The birds are quiet in the morning.
They eat the bugs on the ground, all around.
They are beautiful.
They are peaceful...
They are Quail.
By noon the rooster is in full form.
He is challenging all comers, to a fight.
No one is taking him seriously.
Instead, they call to each other,
with calm noises,
pretending to make them louder
then they should be... to hear.
The ladies are too busy to care,
they simply stare at the feeder for more.
They lay a dozen eggs,
and keep on going...
Twenty-one days to the next generation,
a cycle of perfection.
Later..., as the day has passed,
and the night threatens return...
The cat calls, the dog barks,
and the birds listen.
The music of the moment,
not lost on any of their ears...
only added,
the fears,
of the owl.