Long Duce Poems

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


Scarce Harvest

War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred: 
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames 
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was. 


The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went, 
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis, 
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have 
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?


Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy, 
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?


Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies 
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries  
recited with graceful whispers, gave them 
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
 

Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been 
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels 
bend under their heavy weight and bow.... 
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"   

Southern Italian Town:  Baiano

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Form: Narrative


This House

____________________________________________________
            /                                                                                                \
          /                                                                                                   \
        /                                                                                                      \
      /                                                                                                       =     
     =  I must be worthy, yes I must be! The next-of-kin, what's saved up for \
      /   me?                                                                                                \
      /I must be worthy God said so, for not a shingle, door or windowsill belongs\
     /to me! Waiting on promises not fulfilled, how long will they keep on lying     \
    / to me? Yes you're covered, no you're not. Who governs Labor Law?             \
   /                                                                                                                 \
  / If I put savings away, whether someone else add to it or not, it was put away! \
 / If you no longer put, but what I had is still there, what the duce are you telling \
 / me?                                                                                                             \
 /                                                                                                                    \
 / I put, you matched. I'm no longer there so what the duce did you say, you're no \ 
/   longer matching me? Well good for you I'm still matured, you all along invested \
/   for me! So give my invested part, with what you formerly matched, and don't    \
/   tell me no more stories!                                                                                     \
                                                ____________________________________________________________________

Premium Member Donald Trump

This is a true poem,but is it true because the "one"who it is about might be "IN""THE SON OF PERDITION"? I WONDER. Donald Trump is the "Duse" in "The Republican Party"and The Duse is taking all!Donald is "Trumping them all"! At the very "Top" remains "Donald J. Trump,and "The Duse continues to "Trump " them all! Donald holds all four duces and throws one out each day,and takes it back as the game proceeds in play!!! Duces are wild,and duses "Trump All" wheather they be aces,kings,jacks,or anything when they are in play,and Donald Trump uses his four "Duses" to take the one duce back that he gave away!! Donald loves to "Play",and he is really in style,because "NO ONE" is beating Donald in "Duses are wild! Donald was a "Gifted Independent Republican Child"! Donald is part of the"Independent Republican Party",because he parties hardy,and now "The Republicans" are "The Majority"!!! They are partying hardy ! Donald Trump says that he has studied "Political Science" for only six months,and Donald ;Trumps,and Trumps,and Trumps,and he is leading all of his Republican contenders everyday,and in every way.His Democratic,and Republican contenders are career politicians who can "Debate" and win,but since Donald Trump took all the "Duces"away from them he is really "Trumping Them All!!! Donald is a "Gifted Independent Republican Republican Man" who "Towers" over them all,and Donald sits "Atop" Trump Tower,and belittles them all!  Donald Trump is free to be whom ever he wants to be,because he realizes that he lives in a "Democracy"! Donald Trump is trying to be "The Best" that he can be as President,and his "Duty" is to keep "Freedom"from going into any kind of "Captivity"!!!! Donald is Trumping them all!!
Form: Narrative

Superbowl Bound

This is the first in a trilogy of poems that comprise the first 2 years of big bens career as the Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback so sit back and enjoy.

I was at my favorite sports bar
Rooting on my favorite team
They were playing hard
Up on the big widescreen

The quarterback is the new guy
Still wet behind the ears
But each veteran he's played
He's sent away in tears

Our running backs are awesome
The best in the whole darn league
But when duce can't get it done
The bus drives through the other team

Our wide receivers Plax and ward 
Know how to help us win
Now when they catch the ball
I crack a cheerful grin

Our defense is an iron wall
These guys are made of steel
When they finish with the other team
They think they'll lose their meal

We've won our whole division
We've also clinched the bye
To the Superbowl they're bound
It's there we'll do ore die

We'd better win that game
Or it'll have been a steel
The only way we'll lose
Is if we're deal a royal deal

Then I'd be heart broken
Without a bit of cheer
But I wouldn't let it show
I'd say we'll win next year

I know that won't happen
I can feel it in my bones
It's the other team you'll hear 
Give out those fearless groans

So the next time you're a rooting
For your favorite team
Unless it's the Pittsburgh Steelers
It doesn't mean a thing
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Simple Sam

SIMPLE SAM

Simple Sam chewed rubber bands;
Lived in a shelter couldn't afford chewing gum;
Would catch pigeons to eat for meat;
He thought the wings were sweet;
Would pan-handle off the end of the interstate;
Would eat the leaves off the trees like grapes;

Now he'd wash his clothes, body and hair;
By running behind a car in a car wash;
And if all that didn't settle;
He would chase the dogs that chase the cats for an hour;
He had one pair of shoe left foot "All Stars" right foot "KEDS";
At Sunday morning church service was the loudest to say AMEN;

Would stick his hands and head in the window of passing autos;
Yell, spit, scream at you Hey, give me duce or a dollar;
Sticky fingers, licking trees;
Rubs mud on his  arthritic knees;
Every time you stand or walk by him;
He'll grip you, squeeze you and hug;

Simple Sam's improvised but he loves the Lord;
He titles his gleanings 10 percent;
Sited by his convictions mercies lent;
Never tired, never bored;
Wakes in the morning in winter covered in snow;
Now you may think you're the man...

Ha!!! ya ain't never met SIMPLE SAM

1/27/18
by James Edward Lee Sr.


My Ode To Benito Mussolini

Mussolini saved Italy
from a possible Nazi conquest,
he saw an alliance with Germany
as an opportunity to avoid
another horrible Holocaust!

This truth was never told
for fear that the Italian people
would have declared 
Il Duce the savior of Italy;
wasn't his decision the smartest
choice he had ever made?

Although Mussolini invaded
many countries, he also
did good deeds; women were
fascinated by his charm,
my mom was one of them...
he was the perfect image
of masculinity and also
of obstentious vanity!

Sadly, Mussolini was hanged
upside down in that Milan's public
square; the Americans wanted
him alive, but his voice
was forever silenced by 
the revengeful partisans!

Italy never gave him
the credit and the honor
he deserved, but he was
spat on, kicked and 
by a vicious crowd!

I am honoring Benito Mussolini
with my ode for his great
leadership despite his errors;
may History remember him
not as a traitor, but as a savior
and a citizen who loved his country!


Written on 7/8/2017
Form: Ode

A Letter To Snead

What up cousin, know we haven't spoke in awhile. Ain't **** change, still 
serving these hoes with a smile. We don't get to talk anymore and trade war 
stories, just sitting in the yard me with my double duce, you with your 
forty.parking lot pimpin just don't seem the same, routine... Drive slow blow 
the horn bumping Biggie or Kane. Still owe you my life for pulling me out the 
car that night, not blood but still brothers even when we argued fuss or fight. 
You snatched me up when I was wrong and showed me how to analyze things 
another way I know you didn't wanna leave me but sometimes **** be that 
way. Mom still be laughing about your jokes, I couldn't stop coughing, 
laughing through Newport smoke. Code name Big Sexy with a heart to match, 
save me some gin, e@j, uncle Paul I'm sure it's plenty room in the great hall. 
Not sure when my ride will be over not sure when I'm gonna take it on in, just 
find me when I get there so we can get it in... Miss you Big Brother.
Form: Rhyme

This One's For You

Those thangs you say when you say what you say. My lyrical soldier, you do it 
everyday. Got Damn boy, look what you've done. I know what I wanna do, and I 
know where I'm going. My life is changed and it's all because of you, you've given 
me so much, so baby this one's for you.The way you do what you do when you 
doin' your thang, let's me know this is not an ordinary boyfriend girlfriend thang. 
Perhaps we'll last forever, matter of fact I hope we do,Andif that simple word has 
a weird effect on you, then you should find another chick 'cuz I'm not the one to 
choose. But I hope its not like that because my hopes are kind of high, I know 
that every man needs a chick to ride or die. And that's what I am baby, your ride or 
die chick, I've got your back baby, I'll do anything for you, So have no doubt 
baby, 'cuz this one's for you.

Dedicated to Duce

Premium Member The Book of Ezra - Il Miglior Fabbro

Dear Mr. Pound, 
Your holiday in Italy
Has besmirched your legacy.
Your Cantos, they plead, 
But don’t exonerate,
Not as far as I can see.

Dear Mr. Pound, 
Did praise from Hemingway 
Whet your narcissistic thirst?
As an ex-pat abroad, 
Did you assimilate 
What enlightened nations curse?

Dear Mr. Pound, 
You made Il Duce smile.
There’s evidence that proves it.
Was your Republic of Utopia 
Bi-polar by design?
Or was it simply hubris?

Dear Mr. Pound, 
You strain my intellect
With your imagery of life,
And turn my conscience 
Hard on itself
With a keen, dissecting knife.

Dear Mr. Pound, 
Your lyrics sing to me,
But your politics offend.
You peddled fascist ideology.
If you want my true opinion,
I refuse to condescend.
Form: Bio

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