Long Croatia Poems
Long Croatia Poems. Below are the most popular long Croatia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Croatia poems by poem length and keyword.
Inadequate sleep ex(spells) volatile mental state
Existential crisis ensued,
hence the following
I attempt to relate
forewarning the missus,
who heard bellicose me loud and clear
excoriate, deprecate, communicate
callously, blisteringly, angrily... expostulate
refrain awakening this sleeping spouse
yours truly unapologetically will berate
forgetting self promise
vowing never to castigate,
yet flush with red hot poker rage
out nostrils steam doth emanate
analogously soused madman
ranting and raving
seething venomous, obstreperous,
iniquitous, ferocious... hate.
Violent monstrous, horrendous,
atrocious... beastie boy awoke
reconciliation with goo goo doll broke
bitter bile doth choke
experiencing helplessly shape shifting,
whereby one fell stroke
witnesses emergent Mister Hyde
frighteningly evil doppelgänger doth cloak
easy going, mild manner Doctor Jekyll
former incarnation, where vitriol spoke
housed said baneful nightmarish spirit
killed latter personality
without so much as "ribbit" he did croak.
Back far as I can remember
best not disturb
akin to sleeping bear
wrath nobody can curb
once roused not unlike Croat Serb
War of Independence fought
from 1991 to 1995
decades long smoldering resentment
series of unfortunate events did perturb
between Croat forces loyal
to the government
of Croatia, which declared independence
impossible mission to summarize,
within couple lines
comprising poetic blurb
disintegrating Socialist Federal
Republic of Yugoslavia.
One look no further
than Greek mythology,
where said classical civilization
incorporated elaborate building blocks
to explain human
nature as well docks
side of the moon,
particularly the seven deadliest sins
unleashed out Pandora's box
I suppose more diabolical
than high school jocks,
whereby yours truly
convenient sacrificial "scapegoat"
after effects still reverberate
like chicken pox
scarred psyche, no matter
still recollect rocks
thrown at Boxer/ Dalmation
Georgie by the Daily's
when family lived
on Lantern Lane.
FIFA WORLD CUP
What’s up! FIFA world cup! Most exciting game,
always claiming international fame.
Top players wining legendary name.
Kick the ball, kick- kick: Snaps taken click-click.
Some trying to play trick, some on hatrick.
Cheerful spectators on fun and frolic.
Expert players playing terrible tough.
Extreme tension, temperament rough.
Can’t assess whether effort is less or enough.
Players and spectators both in worry.
What to come up at the end of story?
Playing in world cup demands glory.
Red or yellow card: Penalty, Foul or Corner.
Despair of opponent or rejoice of supporter.
Victory or defeat does not really matter.
Nothing to lose, hence not to get upset.
Participants in World Cup are grand great.
Winner will be decided by chance or fate.
World- wide enthusiasm, each player in merit.
Coordination on team work is the right credit.
Above all, aspirant zeal is the sporting spirit.
2018 World cup! Final contestants: Croatia and France.
Eagle eyes of world-wide viewers watching performance.
With wonderful world cup which lucky team will dance?
Grand Finale! Game over! Field front all quiet clear.
Series of matches: Splendid Superb Spectacular.
Song of victory sung in symphony in French vernacular.
07/15/18
HM
'STRAND PICK G' Contest by Brian Strand
Will won the table tennis at Rio,
And celebrated this great victory,
By instantly jumping on the table,
With his arms stretched both sides.
For this he got the yellow card,
From a lines judge at the side,
So he approached her, hugged,
But she still didn't smile once.
He then ran over to his coach,
Arms wide open, hugged him:
Took a running jump, sprang,
Up into his arms in embrace.
He then did exactly the same thing,
To Jonny Vagus, the comedian:
He took another running jump,
And sprung straight into his arms.
Will was born with arthrogryposis,
Which affects all four of his limbs,
He overcame cancer aged seven,
And was born on 17 January 1988.
From Sheffield and Kent born,
And while Will was in hospital,
Overcoming cancer, lymphoma,
His grandma got him a TT table.
He loved it and joined a Kent club,
Represented Kent as non-disabled,
Moved to Bristol and met a coach,
And 2008 joined the para TT team.
In 2011 Will secured a solid gold,
At the Euro Champs in Croatia,
He was voted the Players’ Player,
So 2012 he became World No. 1.
At the London Paralympics 2012,
He was sad, greatly disappointed,
With silver for the men’s singles,
Loosing to Jochen Wollmart, DE.
In 2013 he struck silver, Euros,
Won gold at the Lignano Masters,
Another gold in Slovenia 2014,
Which set him up for the Worlds.
At the Worlds in Being in 2014,
Will won the men’s singles gold,
And a team bronze ‘cos he chats,
Then came the Euros in 2015.
In 2015 Will travelled to Vejle,
Which is in Denmark’s land,
Where he took silver twice over,
For the singles, for the team.
EVERYTHING HAS GOT A STORY-ROME OCTOBER 31ST 2006
As I started to pack,
And put things away one by one;
I remembered that all these “things “ here.
Have a special place in my heart.
The first bottle of wine,
To celebrate the new house,
The first plate, bowl and glass.
Our first dinner,
I didn’t realise it could have been the last.
The shells and the rocks from every beach that I’ve seen.
The sand and little stones.
The pictures the memories.
The coins from Scotland,
The book from Sicily
And the ashtray from Greece,
The postcard from Croatia…
The pyjamas, and angel clock,
That are still hidden away,
Because the tears still fall.
The poetry I wrote for you,
The picture I took.
The birthday candles…
The wood flowers.
The posters and
pictures,
All things on the wall….
The first Christmas tree,
The strawberry wine from Germany,
The pain and the tears,
Trapped in this now empty house for so many years.
Our first bottle of wine,
The wind chimes that blow,
If the breeze is just right,
The stars that glow on my ceiling at night.
The time is now to put them to away,
Out of sight out of my life.
The memories will fade.
I look around at this now empty place,
And realise that everything has got a story.
Ballet In Balance
(A Tribute poem for Mia Slavenska)
Is there pain in every step with every pleasure?
The noble ballerina in the balance floats on by
Smiles leap with her, forgetting floors for sky
Air lifts the dancer higher in applause
Behold Mia in Croatia in the balance in ballet
Meteors in motion burn out in atmospheres as fast
Another show in nature steals the show
Fragility on the toe
Bringing tears of joy drawn on the candle wick
Graceful movements, hands are quick
Feet are quicker under foot
Nowhere else to go but up
Dance has power over wars to burn the soul
Steps lightly on the mind, avoiding land mines as they go
Define the miracles of motion, ballerina spins
Performances In concert for the masses warm the hearts
Takes us to the sky in leaps of faith
Without warning dancers never land again
They follow Mia who always keeps her distance any way
She leaves on a comet in a dream with speed
Rides emotion on the stars to end of days
Never to return upon the stage
Aaron was born with club foot,
But had corrective surgery cool,
So played tennis until aged 14,
When he changed to table tennis.
Very soon after, at the age of 16,
He tried out for ParalympicsGB,
Even tho’ he didn't see himself,
As disabled in any way or form.
He loved the thrill, excitement,
Of competing against other folks,
On the same level as himself,
So entered many competitions.
His first contest were Europeans,
In Split which sits firm in Croatia,
In 2011, and so qualified for 2012,
The Paras that changed the world.
Then 2014 he won team silver,
In Slovenia, Slovenia and Italy,
And in 2015, in Vejle in Denmark,
He and his team won a bronze.
In the China Open, the singles,
Aaron won the gold triumphantly,
And in the Lignano Master Open,
They won team bronze with skill.
In Rio he won the team gold,
With Ross Wilson, Will Bayley;
Born 27th August 1991, London,
He lives and trains in Sheffield.
FORM : Tesla Form : 3/6/9
_____________________
[ Poet’s note of interest ~
Tesla’s Birth : 10 July, around midnight : 1856 : stormy weather |
Poem came through : 10 July, 3.33am : 2025 : winter rain |
Numerologically speaking 3.33 is the divine number of alignment. Standard time in Croatia, where Tesla was born & SAST is same | July is the seventh month : 7 is the luminal no. linking Heaven to Earth : compound number between 1856 and 2025 is 7 | 10 is the number of leadership. This poem came exactly as presented here : rhyme & syllable : no edit, so I consider it channelled]
*****
midnight struck on one to power of zero
birthing table seven decked heaven for July
legs open
waters broke blood
breath rapid heralded
lightning cracked sky broken
zodiac Cancer genius creation curious
another reality coded inventions
Light eyed itself transmuting token
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dubravka lived alone in a lonely part of town.
She left Croatia when the trouble all went down.
In the morning she would dance the waltz in a bright red hat.
The only company she had was little Macka her tawny cat.
At lunch she would dance the “kolo” a traditional Croatian dance,
Although her aching joints made it difficult to prance.
Macka would smile at her every day and sip cream from a ballet shoe.
Her memories of dancing ballet had moved from her mind to her heart.
At night she would try to perform the “pas de bouree” and fail,
Falling gently into her bed and cry herself to sleep.
But asleep she would dance ”Swan Lake” to clapping as loud as hail.
And drown in flowers that made her weep.
Her fingers were wrinkled and found it difficult to hold a plate.
But her heart sometimes woke her early it couldn’t wait,
To dance in the kitchen on a sunny afternoon.
And push away the darkness that had come far too soon.
France beat Argentina four to three
In that game Mbappe was the key
Then they defeated Uruguay two goals to nil
As Uruguay's goalie let one spill
In the semis it was Belgium they faced
France headed one in with victory's embrace
They were in the finals, but who would they play
Would England beat Croatia and win the day?
As it turned out, the three lions couldn't roar
They were coming home with no trophy in store
So the final was set, Croatia and France
Two great teams would get their chance
In the finals France took a free kick
But when the Croatian defender did a head flick
The ball ended up in his own goal!
It seemed France would be on a roll
Croatia responded with a brilliant strike
It traveled so fast, it was rocket-like
But France added 3 more to the score
And they lifted the trophy once more!
The fault line streamed from the Nazi state,
The Jewish Shoah, Holocaustic fate.
Mongolia, Croatia, and Belarus,
Humanity had no excuse.
Rwanda, Burundi, and South Sudan,
The full scope of terror's sad sway,
In Cambodia they pointed their fingers
To where the horrid 'Killing Fields' lay.
The dire purges in Mother Russia, by the brutal Stalinist guild,
Ancient Turkey, the Ottoman Empire, so many Armenians killed,
And legions of Greeks to their deaths there went,
Assyrians too, until nearly spent.
The fault line leaves remains that burn,
We see them ever, and then,
The hard way is how we have to learn,
Over and over again.
The fault line runs on steel rails across the "American" land,
A tomb, a gloom, an iron doom, for my wife's native band.