Long Diplomacy Poems
Long Diplomacy Poems. Below are the most popular long Diplomacy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Diplomacy poems by poem length and keyword.
I spit on the sermons of slaver prophets.
Their prayers fed the whips that tore my ancestors’ flesh.
They built cathedrals with the blood of captives,
And sanctified pain in the name of a carnivorous God.
I am the heir of the tormented of Gorée,
The cursed child of plantations watered with tears.
I have not forgotten the slave ships,
Nor the papal blessings that celebrated chained flesh.
They call me barbarian because I refuse their pardon,
Yet their libraries reek of the lies of civilization.
I have no need for their counterfeit paradise,
Their heavens are slave markets painted blue.
I stand upright like the brave rebels of Haiti,
Torn from the entrails of the earth by the wrath of volcanoes.
I speak with the broken jaws of my forefathers,
And I write with the black ink of smothered genocides.
Their flags are cloths stained with blood,
Their laws, chains polished by diplomacy.
They claim to distribute freedom,
But their satanic philanthropy cultivates misery as an eternal rent.
I have no god to crown my wounds.
My faith is the scar tattooed on my forehead.
I have no temple to prostitute my soul,
My truth feeds on the rage of the damned.
Let them keep calling me a wicked *****,
I will turn that insult into a scepter.
I have no need for their recognition,
For my dignity is not for sale.
I live in this world fractured by their bombs,
Yet my conscience remains undefeated.
A people does not die when it chooses to remember,
And my memory is a weapon loaded blank against their idols.
Seed of anthropology
Blue-print of ancient antique
Antecedence of brown skin politic
Deity to pre-colonial centralised culture
A republic with institutionally adorned grace for violence
Bodija (they are ever ready)
Awon ti ogun koleko; undefeatable and resilient in battle
Ibadan the light to many
The beauty of brown in head covering
Ibadan the birth-place of ancient civilization
The unbreakable wall of Yoruba defence
The home of warriors,
the seat of bashorun,
even the Lords of Britain knew Ibadan for it art and act of unique diplomacy.
If there ever was a city
If the brown continent was to have a Paris
If love was to have a home
My rest and comfort will be my city; IBADAN.
A TERRORIST IS A PERSON IN A STORE,OR PERSONS WHO RUNS MANY STORES,OR MANY GROUPS IN A COUNTRY! THE TERRORIST WANTS TO ORGANIZE GROUPS AGAINST "DEMOCRACY"!!!THE TERRORIST "WANTS TO START WAR!!! THE TERRORIST IS A GROUP OR AN INDIVIDUAL WHO HAS "NO "PEACE" IN THEIR "SOULS"!!!!! THE TERRORIST HAS REJECTED "GOD" AND THEIR "SOULS ARE "COLD"....IN HELL........THE TERRORIST,SEEKS "WAR",AND NEVER SEEKS "DIPLOMACY" WHEN "DIPLOMACY' IS OFFERED TO THEM: WHETHER IT BE AN INDIVIDUAL,"COUNTRY,OR NATION!!!LET US RESOLVE THIS SITUATION...........NATION TO NATION.........LET US TALK ,AND USE "DIPLOMACY"AND NOT "PHYSICAL WAR" WHERE THERE IS NO WINNER!HISTORY TEACHES US THAT! I AM EXPRESSING TRUE REAL FACTS!!PEACE,PEACE,PEACE, WE SEEK,SEEK,SEEK,AND THAT IS WHY PEOPLE LEAVE "CHINA,AND IRAN,BECAUSE THEY CANNOT FIND "DEMOCRACY"IN THOSE SOCIETIES,AND WE MIGHT AS WELL INCLUDE IRAQ,IRAN,SYRIA,RUSSIA AND THE COMMUNISM THAT IS SPREAD AROUND!!!! TOWN TO TOWN...HELL BOUND!!!HITLER'S HELL BOUND TOWNS!!!HITLER IS "DEAD" BUT COMMUNISM STILL RAISES ITS DIRTY FILTHY DEVILISH HATEFUL HEAD THROUGH "TERRORISM"!!!!IRAN IS ALMOST DEAD ,AND PUTIN IS ON HIS WAY TO DO THE SAME THING THAT HE HAS DONE TO SYRIA!!!!!PUTIN MIGHT BOMB IRAN,IRAQ,LIKE HE HAS ALREADY DONE SYRIA? I THINK SO!DEMOCRACY AND DIPLOMACY IS THE ONLY TRUE STAR TO AVOID A REAL PHYSICAL WAR!SYRIA IS ALREADY "DEAD" ,AND PUTIN IS NOW "HEAD"! IRAN IS NOT "DEAD YET"! DIPLOMACY IS THE ONLY THING LEFT"! IRAN WILL DIE LIKE SYRIA,AND "PUTIN" WILL HELP TO KILL EVERY IRIANIAN ON "REQUEST"!!!!!PUTIN IS A COMMUNIST AND HE IS THE BEST YET TO KILL ON REQUEST!!!!!!IRAN WILL BE WIPED OUT WITH IN THE BLINK OF AN "EYE",AND PUTIN WILL SAY THAT THE "OIL" IS HIS",AND THE U.S.A WILL SAY THAT WE COULD AVOIDED ALL OF THIS IF "IRAN" WOULD HAVE USED "DIPLOMACY" TO RESOLVE THE DIFFERENCES"TO MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE,AND "DONALD TRUMP":THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA TOLD THEM WHY!!!!!!DIPLOMACY IS THE ONLY WAY TO GO TO STOP PHYSICAL BLOOD FROM SHEADING BECAUSE OF PHYSICAL WARFARE,AND DROPPING ATOMIC BOMBS ON ANY ONE! LET US "LOVE". LET US USE DIPLOMACY! LET US LIVE AND LET LIVE!LET US DESTROY THE TERRORIST WHO WILL NOT LET FREEDOM AND JUSTICE,LOVE ,AND HOPE ,COMPASSION,AND ,FAITH,AND DESTINY SURVIVE!!! THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY IS ALIVE,AND IS WISE!!! REVENGE IS "MINE THUS SAITH THE LORD......NOT IRAN!!!!!
Youth is Gone
By Franklin Price
3/30/2017
Youth is gone forever, and is never to return.
No matter how we wish it, a sorcerer's spell to yearn.
Sneaks up on us quite stealthily and quickly races by
With just the turning of a head and the blinking of an eye.
Although we wish for it again, forever it is gone
We are, what we lived life to be; a king or simple pawn.
The cards were dealt, the dice were tossed, the roulette wheel was spun.
We've walked the winding path of life, have, at times, both lost and won.
Were we good, or were we bad, did we help one another?
Did we raise a helping hand, to our sister and our brother?
Did we raise a family who respects their fellow man?
Can we look back proudly on our steps within the sand?
Even with some age on us, we have not reached the end.
We can still contribute to the world and to a friend.
It's not too late for us to change, if we're not who we like.
We can tell the bad in us to go and take a hike
Relight the light that lit your way from youth to age's hill
It may be a little tough, you can do it if you will.
Place your torch atop the hill, on the darkest sea to shine;
A guiding light for others who may follow in your line.
Although your youth is gone, and you're longer in the tooth,
Show you've learned diplomacy and a little bit of couth
Hug shoulders of both friend and foe and lend a helping hand
And the young and old together can help mend a broken land
The biscuit treaty
Ranting is what we do best
He thinks he’s right, but I am
With angry jibes we begin
Snippets of lashed tongue
Whip their way across the room
Pulling on his trigger
Fired bullets retaliate
Injured, still undefeated
I ponder my position
Another attack invoked
Flicker of realisation
Is there a need to endure
Realising stamina’s gone
The point is simply advised
On both sides for that matter
Diplomacy now required
But who will raise the white flag
Both pause, anticipating
His kettle letting off steam
He pours, only for himself
Then sits, cup in hand, silent
Reaching for a happy end
A tin armed with biscuits
I open with a gesture
He smiles, not looking over
Relieved, I wave the tin
His favourite, a done deal!
At the edge of a roaring ravine humanity shivers this year
Wondering how it has reached here with wounded civilizations
Forgetting age old blunders incurred upon the existence of humans
Thriving jealousy, waging wars
Building armory to destroy their own
Caressing destruction by diplomacy
Spilling oil over nature gasping for life
Now Earth retaliates to cleanse itself
Bubbling volcanoes, newborn tornadoes
Novel pandemics, extinction of genes
Humanity struggles to resurface
Through abandoned shades of hope
That retains itself over centuries
Is this the beginning of an apocalypse till the end?
Hope wishes a few might survive to preserve cultures and live on
But hope believes humans will change to create a new world with nobility
This might be the awaited beginning
Do humans at last, understand?
May 23, 2020
Tear gas policies and hate
Will never make America great
Again
Tear gas policies and hate
Will never make America great
Changing Defense to War,
Claiming to stop foreign wars,
Won’t win any peace prizes—
Just more of what the world despises.
Black helicopters and unmarked vans
Enforcing edicts across our lands;
Masks and rubber bullet diplomacy
Shouldn’t become our normalcy.
Secret police with unlawful powers,
Brutal enforcement ordered by cowards;
The rule of law squandered and subverted
To serve personal vengeance perverted.
Our Constitution tattered and torn
Needs her defenders all bravely sworn
To stand shoulder to shoulder and hold back the night:
This is our moment, our duty, our fight!
Tear gas policies and hate
Will never make America great
Again
Tear gas policies and hate
Will never make America great
“Women can change better’n a man,” Ma said soothingly. “Woman got all her life in her arms. Man got it all in his head.”
“Man, he lives in jerks-baby born an’ a man dies, an’ that’s a jerk-gets a farm and looses his farm, an’ that’s a jerk. Woman, its all one flow, like a stream, little eddies, little waterfalls, but the river, it goes right on.
John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath
She is a River
She flows from the hearts of the people
In the hope of preserving justice for all
On the battle-scarred Potomac
Where we became a nation
With her brave and unselfish history of law and order
Her tributaries lead through the deltas
Of the San Joaquin and Sacramento
Bending and stretching with assurance
Curving through the fruitful valleys
Of the golden state of promise
As she rose to the heights of public service
She rolls along the mighty Mississippi
Tendering southern resistance along the Missouri
In the heartland of the American farmer
Who has forgotten the words of equity
She channels rushing into a new economy
Diving into the waters of the Hudson
Unafraid of the rich and wealthy corporations
And its leaders that have exploited the common man
She runs with strength and fortitude
Surging with the untamed rapids of conviction
Where the headwaters of the great Columbia
Blends with the Snake River
Where the wilderness and our historical presence
Will be cherished and unabused
She forges through the frozen tributaries with
Her communion to the uninviting wilderness of the Yukon
And the tropical warmth of Hanalei rivers
Becoming the spirit of great explorers who have made America
The heartland of discovery
And in reaching the oceans of disparity
She breaches our common boundaries
Flowing beyond the seas with diplomacy and civility
To find the rest of the world as a worthy friend
So that the rivers of democracy find a resting place
She is a river of life and the world as we know it
Her tides and eddies nurture all that is truthful, kind and just
Harnessing the power of democracy for us all
She is the watershed for the world
That unifies us together as one
Wisdom comes with age
So the old saying goes
But so does dementia
As the world so sadly knows.
It’s so easy to be vociferous
Brave aggressive and bold
Deferring action to others
Just because they’ve grown old
If Old Men fought the wars
Would there be quite so many
And as more of them got killed
Would there even be any.
Maybe they’d realise
It’s better to jaw jaw jaw
Than to risk their lives
Going off to senseless war.
It is after all just
A crazy situation
Sending off to war
The youth of any nation.
No let the Old Men fight
And let the old ‘men die
It really couldn't be long before
Old men started azz sking why
And found alternatives so
Nobody had to fight and die.
Maybe they’d discover
And give diplomacy a try.
So much more incentive
To avoid any mortal strife
When the life put at risk
Is an old person’s own life.
Bur if they insist that
They really want to try
Put them in uniform and
Let them go off to die.
Better to have them be
The wounded or dead
Than younger men with
Their whole lives ahead.
So put the Old Men in uniform
Give them the bayonet and gun
It’s not really fair after all to let
Younger men have all the fun.
It’s called taking responsibility for
So many of the things going wrong
Maybe Old Men have been in charge
Mucking things up for far too long.
Africa,
when will you wake?
Others speak of the moon.
You still argue with hunger.
Colonisation never ended.
It only changed costume.
China once followed you.
Now it outruns you.
Not by magic—
by discipline.
Your leaders gather in Addis Ababa each year.
They meet.
They speak.
Nothing moves.
You wait for enemies
to solve the wounds
they created.
What madness is this?
No enemy cures a nation.
He manages it.
Borders were drawn for you
by strangers.
You guard them
as sacred relics.
Disunity is your real prison.
You hear Marco Rubio speak of Africa,
and still you wait
for instruction.
Western democracy
did not build Africa.
Yet you kneel before it
as doctrine.
This is not loyalty.
It is habit.
Africa feeds the world.
Your soil powers empires.
Your minerals move machines.
Yet your leaders cannot think
beyond tomorrow.
Power without vision
is decay.
If you do not remove them,
history will remove you.
Again.
You bow to Europe’s vices
and call it partnership.
You excuse predators
and name it diplomacy.
Africa,
you lack nothing
but courage.
Your enemies
are not abroad.
They sit in office.
Act.
Or your children
will inherit chains
with new names.
Machiavelli warned us:
a people that tolerates fools
invites conquest.
Hunger is patient.
History is not.