Long Congressman Poems

Long Congressman Poems. Below are the most popular long Congressman by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Congressman poems by poem length and keyword.


Patradoot Or the Messenger 5/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 5/Many

English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor



If there wicked hands will ever catch you,

Your body will be mutilated in pieces,

And then, you would never be able to see,

My beloved to convey my message, dear letter.

Ravindra

Kanpur India. 13th May 2010                           to continue in 6



Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my late father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India became free in 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman & 
Gandhi’s non-violent soldier. For many times he was 
imprisoned for many months and sometime, even for more 
than a year. He dedicated the entire writing work to his 
dear wife, my late mother, who was also a co-partner with 
him in the freedom struggle in creating mass awareness. 

During one such imprisonment at Faizabad jail, he wrote 
this epic and sent it to my mother secretly as a gift for her 
and to get it printed & circulated among the masses to 
create awareness for India’s freedom. The book was 
printed by my mother in Hindi and some of this epic were 
circulated also, but the British confiscated the book and the
press of my father around 1933. I was born in 1950 in a free 
India. I am trying to bring this great writing of my father in 
English which portrays more than the translation of the epic, 
so the world may come to know about this otherwise lost 
and forgotten great great writing and the sacrifices of my 
patents towards India’s freedom struggle.

Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in writing easy mass literature 
and wrote many Dramas, Poetry books, epics etc. All his 
other literary works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class works could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra



Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.



Kutil   Kuron   Me  Pur   Kur   Unke,

Aunga  Bhunga  Ho  Jayega,

Purna Roop  Se Priya   Darshan  Ko,

Phir  Tu   Kabhi  Na  Payega.


Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections


Patradoot Or the Messenger 7/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 7/Many

English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor



On your way,  you would witness and see,

Alluring scenes and sceneries all around the way,

Spreading their charms  to allure your mind,

They would keep fascinating your heart, on your way.


Ravindra


Kanpur India. 14th May 2010                           to continue in 7


Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my late father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom on 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and 
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was 
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.

During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed 
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for 
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in 
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the 
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great 
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.

Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra


  
  




Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.


Bhati  Bhati  Ke Drishya  Marg  Mai, 

Audbhut  Chata  Dhikhayege,

Nig  Anupam   Sobha   Se  Tera,   

Hardaya   Lubhate  Gayenge. 



Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections

Patradoot Or the Messenger 8/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 8/Many

English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor



Enchanting beauty of nature, 

Would unfold its charms, on your way,

When you would take my hearts message,

For the most lovely child of the creator, my beloved.

Ravindra

Kanpur  India. 15th May 2010                           to continue in 9


Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my later father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom in 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and 
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was 
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.

During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed 
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for 
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in 
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the 
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great 
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.

Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra

Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.


Prakriti   Mugdha   Sunderta   ke, 

Mug   Mai   Nav   Drashaya   Suhayenge,

Le   Kur   Priya   Dhing   Hirdraya  Sandesha,   

Jub   Tu    Mera    Gayega. 


Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections

Patradoot Or the Messenger 3/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 3/Many
Originally written in Hindi by my late 
father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor




English version by Ravindra K Kapoor


The moment you will hear,  the voice of my heart,

You will become pious, like the showering raindrops,

Taking shapes from my expressions, 

To shower the rains of Love,  on my beloved’s heated heart.


Ravindra

Kanpur India. 11th May 2010                           to continue in 4





Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.



Sunte Hi Sangeet Hradaya Ka,

Tu Pavitra Ho Jayega,

Udgaron Ka Rup Dharega,

Prem Virsti Burseyega.



By Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Freedom Fighter and writer, Poet & Dramatist
(1889-1994)

Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my later father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom in 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and 
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was 
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.

During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed 
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for 
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in 
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the 
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great 
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.

Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra

Young Soldier

I was a boy not quit seventeen,
I enlisted when I was sixteen…

Wanting to serve my country…

I had no family it was just 
my sister and me…

My mother had died, when
 I was very young, new family
 adopted me…

My sister was also adopted,
 by another family…

As you can see, it was just
 my sister and me…

It wasn’t long before my adopted
 family, first my new father died 
then my new mother, followed him…

She missed him so much, for
 she had a broken heart,
 that wouldn’t mend …

I went to war as a little boy,
 came home a man…

As you see I was just sixteen…

The time was at “Chaute Thierry”,
doing world war one…

As a young man I thought we won… 

Standing behind a cannon as 
it was fired, shell casing discharging 
from the breach, sent hot shrapnel 
and pain into my foot… 

Sent me to hospital where I
 laid in pain, until they treated me, 
sent me home, with crippled foot, 
shrapnel of imbedded in my foot, 
as well as the pain in my foot…

I’ve never been able NOT to work,
 even though I have shrapnel
 in my foot, walk with a limp, and 
have pain in my foot everyday…

Now you can see, that it didn’t
keep me from work…

Though I was wounded during
 war, no purple heart was given
 this boy a young soldier…

Wasn’t until my son wrote our
 Congressman, explaining what had
 happen, and what hadn’t been done…

Took over fifty years, but I got my
 purple heart, thanks to my son for 
what he done…

I would have gone to my grave,
 for I wouldn’t have said anything,
 as I hadn’t for years, for I thought it
 was their job, to recognize what I
 had done…

My family was proud, of what I’d
done, but I feel, that they were more 
proud of me now…

Only told my story a few times,
 mostly to a few close friends, and my
 children, for it was part of history…

Now you know my story, the young 
soldier, just boy…

By Sandra L. Hoban
©2006

This poem was written and dedicated to my father who served as an infantry soldier during World War I. This is also dedicated to all those who have served our country and was wounded or lost there life while serving, not just World War I but all wars, conflicts and military police actions.
Form: Ballad


Premium Member Foxnews Siege

If the FoxNews commentator
and his Republican Congressman colleague
with pro-public universal health constituents
zealously inviting themselves to siege his suburban home,
witnessed by terrified wife and daughter
fearing for their Business As Usual lives,
had the intelligence of a bilateral snake,

They might have seen
and heard
and smelled
and felt
the other, more dramatically lethal, half
Both/And
Elder RightBrain rumblings
of sieges past

What you just said
about Rabid Left
was also true of rabid Right
seething gunfire and baby tissue venom
against Planned Parenthood
and UnPlanned PanReGenerativity

As our Snake River
bends left for cooperative multicultural ownership
of EarthTribe PositivEnergy Global Democracy

And Right
for more conservation of sacred restorations
healing extended HolySpirit EarthTribe justice,
reinvesting through cooperative
SecularLeft-SacredRight co-ownership

On our most intelligent
bilateral
BothLeft  AndRight
journey toward aggressive sieging
and unsurging calm waters
Left-Right bicameral
Snake journey toward ZeroZone Paradise.

Wiser than a LeftBrain dominant Fox
with RightWing
patriarchal historic dominance,
listening too far Right Supremacist
to arrive on Cooperative Revolution of all EarthTribe,
MainStream sieges for health
and anti-sieges for death 
of interdependent matriarchal freedom,
MidWay, either win straight patriarchal or lose
WuWei, Win Ego co-arising Win EcoPolitical cooperative power
Vocational BiLateral ZeroZone 
bicameral Health/Wealth Target.

Fortunately, and unfortunately,
I enjoyed not hearing the more tyrannic tragic half
of their untold self-pardoning siege story
perhaps having forgiven themselves,
ourselves,
too easily
for absence of healthy climate care
during sieges against harder ecofeminist
and urban rainbow targets
out for WinWin ego/ecopolitical cooperative gain,

Trumpian anti-healthcare voices
for their own past rapacious sieging 
but not mentioning these unfortunate events
while speaking for unsieging the rabid Left--
a fake anti-sieging 
fake WinLose, when everybody misinformed loses, 
fake moral values 
talking without healing justice walking
game.

Premium Member Class Reunion

A football star with super speed,
Our prom king, Kyle, has gone to seed.
No longer likely to succeed,
He's out of work and hooked on weed.

Behind you's Jennifer, the one
Who led our cheers and planned our fun.
Most popular, with honors won,
She's sheriff now and totes a gun.

And over there is rotten Chad,
Once cocky jock, now deadbeat dad.
He bullied me and so I'm glad
That his investments turned out bad.

Well, here comes Sue, who was so shy
She never even kissed a guy.
She's since helped seven husbands die,
But always has an alibi.

A wit and prankster of renown
Who backwards wore his cap and gown,
Was Jason there, our class's clown.
The best mortician now in town.

A teenage tramp in scanty dress,
Yvonne no morals did possess.
She'd cheat and lie, so who would guess
She'd be a judge and great success.

Poor Adam there has gone to pot,
His hopes of being doctor shot.
Divorced and now a lonely sot,
The saddest of this sorry lot.

Remember curly-headed Clay,
The eagle scout and closet gay?
He's quarterback for Tampa Bay,
Is out, and wears a full toupee.

Poor Brook, our class's beauty queen,
Who prompted thoughts in boys unclean.
She's gone from slender sweet sixteen
To hugest hips you've ever seen.

And look at Zack, the puny nerd
With build and beak just like a bird.
Once too afraid to say a word,
He's now a billionaire, I've heard.

A romeo, Jake had his fun.
Most every girl he knew, he'd done.
Now congressman in Washington,
His votes are screwing everyone.

There's Beth, who boys refused to date.
Alone for years, she married late.
Her husband left a vast estate.
That hunk she's with is twenty-eight.

Example of the alpha male
Who knew not how it felt to fail,
My buddy, Ethan, went to Yale.
But he's not here 'cause he's in jail.

I view this wreckage with dismay,
This gathering of youth decay.
For one exception, look this way.
I haven't aged a single day.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Autobiographical Poet

As I sit wandering about the south 
side of Chicago captured effortlessly 
by the tall dandelions watching the 
lightening bugs rest on sunken cattails 
we often lit them just before the sun 
sets over George Washington Carver 
campus deep within the forest preserve 
over looking the Dan Ryan expressway
 
just to keep the mosquitoes at bay there 
are always so many not even the 
swarming dragon flies feasting could 
truly silence them I sit pondering away 
with my thoughts on the Pullman strike 
and the hay market projects writing poetry 
in my journal as quiet as a mouse an yet I 
always had something to say the orange sky 

began to drift as a blanket of stars started 
twinkling in a distant over the railroad 
tracks I can here the loco motive rolling 
down the broken planks-cotton belt 
screeching down the steal beams fresh 
bread will be served tonight with my 
grandmothers famous Sicilian soup 
right about now I here her calling my 

name Cocoa cocoa put that book 
down and get in here for supper it’s 
getting dark you know I stuck my 
pencil inside my braid and begin 
skipping towards the gardens homes 
that were actually built 1945 name after 
Congressman John Altgeld for war  
veterans returning from WWll and their 

families there simply was no greater 
peace right away I got to roll the lemons 
cutting them for fresh lemonade and 
begin asking all kinds of questions about 
where do the bugs go at night how 
do they sleep and why do lightning 
bugs come out just before dust then 
die out after we catch them and put 

them in a jar the rest just vanish my 
dad answered all my questions as I 
began to drift off to sleep he carries 
me upstairs to bed tucks me in removed 
my pencil from my braid and 
places my journal on my nightstand 
dims the light as my mind starts to 
dream of my tomorrows adventures
Form: Triolet

Premium Member I Hear He's a Winner

I Hear He’s A Loser

I am from the USA
Where it’s okay to be gay
Not that I am, but if they say 
That I am, it’s hearsay 
Appointed first LGBT
NY third district officially
Congressman George Santos
United for Trump, how he boasts
Serving out his term as Lawmaker
Donations, a big taker
Republican, his shameless fabulism
Denies all fabrication, all criticism 
Felonies up to his neck
In without a background check
How did he slip through the cracks?
Finally caught dead in his tracks
He made his own situation dire, 
liar liar pants on fire.

I Hear He’s A Winner!

Ron DeSantis is
Florida’s governor and his
Plans for filing with the FEC
To beat Trump for presidency
On May twenty-fifth, he’ll give his rattle
On his intense running battle 
Once you are known for lying  
Then everything you say is trying
If not, and he wins, we’ll be crying
Let’s see if he passes the loser test
I give him all my best!

DeSantis is known to surprise even his closest allies with last-minute changes. #5
Trump frequently accused DeSantis of neglecting his job as governor -#1
"A really bad politician," Trump said. "Enjoy the trip, Ron!"

To qualify as a loser:
1. He doesn’t have a job or career goals -CHECK
2. He lies about everything  - CHECK
3. He uses excuses instead of solutions when something goes wrong - CHECK
4. He has nothing to talk about  -CHECK
5. He doesn’t have any friends or family who like him -CHECK

May 10, 2023 · US congressman George Santos, who ran for office on an embellished biography, has been charged with a wide range of felonies including fraud. The 34-year-old LAWMAKER, who has admitted to being...UPDATE Sixth congressman ever to be expelled in the nation's history on 12/1/23.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Families: the Most Important Social Unit

Families are the most important social unit in existence on earth today.  For it is out of the 
family that every worker, teacher, preacher, agnostic, librarian, construction worker, mason, 
mayor, Senator, Congressman, President, World Leader, mothers, fathers, and yes, every 
man and woman who fills an occupation (or not) grow to be the individual that they are.

Families are important because the beginning of all feelings originate right there in the 
home.  A newborn child may feel the love and affection of adorning parents.  Or, if the 
parent is a drug addict or mentally challenged, the child will have a different experience, an 
unpleasant one that no child deserves.  We are what we choose.  And our choices teach the 
young ones. 

There are a myriad of variables that influence an individuals feelings of self-worth, good or 
bad.  The family is the place where love and care are learned and shared.  Anger 
management, good or bad, is taught by example.  Manners, good or bad are taught or not…it 
depends.  Everything that a man or woman becomes has its roots in the family.

So, given this, let us all work together as parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, 
nieces, nephews, cousins, and even friends to become the best possible individuals within our 
families that we can.  Let each of us strive for peace in the heart, the home, the city, the 
nations, the world.  Because we are all God’s children.  And we deserve the best possible 
life.  A little bit of heaven on earth can happen if everyone does their part to live, love, 
forgive, and enjoy what God has given them.

Written for the Rambling Poet's Narrative Contest.
Copyright 2-8-10  © Dane Smith-Johnsen

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