Long England Poems
Long England Poems. Below are the most popular long England by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long England poems by poem length and keyword.
She was persuaded to hide
The love so deeply she felt inside
For those who thought they knew her, who thought they knew best
She was told he will never to be good enough for you and to put your feelings to rest
How do others know what is good for you, is actually true
When they have hardly spent a glimpse with you, as you change over time with their every view
To decide another’s fate, when it is not your own
It seems that you would be throwing your own happiness out as a result and to be cursed and alone
It’s not up to you to tell another if he or she is wrong
So much talking and noise, it’s like the strings on a puppet for them to play along
Let them decide on their own, if they are meant to be or to move completely on
As the universe has already decided and it is up to them to listen to their own song
A long time ago 'twas, ships set sail
For in England and on the Continent
Certain folks were doomed sure to fail
They were Puritans, the 'wrong religion'
Or hewers of wood, down on their role
Like drawers of water, low on the totem pole
They came to Massachusetts and sunny Virginia
Uncharted lands, filled with large dreams
Where they'd find a way for their plans and their schemes
Sadly, some died, in the harsh clutches of winter
Other pulled through, a-hunting and fishing
Planting maize and potatoes, Thanksgiving-wishing
They'd escaped the caste system that had kept them down
In "New England" they built farms, orchards, and towns
**********
Now the years have whizzed by, over 400 in all
We descendants no longer stand so proud or so tall
The caste system our ancestors fled has been replaced
By an equally cruel one, based on money and race
It’s eight degrees in January,
a frozen New England night.
Standing by a base lodge,
staring up at shadowy slopes,
gray against the icy black.
Others cluster around me,
bundled and waiting.
High above: a point of light,
red and brilliant up there.
Then another, a whole string
snakes down the slope,
turns the gray to fire
as they arc down, lower and lower,
folks start cheering.
The fire-serpent draws near,
pulls up at the silent chairlift.
Acrid smell of road-flares,
don’t know how the torch-skiers
can tolerate that much stink.
They raise the torches in a circle,
Viking-style, glorious.
Fireworks streak overhead,
each burst lights up the trails
for the briefest of flickers.
My nephews run up the hill, excited,
scrambling with the other kids.
It’s fourth of July in January,
and another three nights
before winter’s end.
"Headline news! The rag trade is torn to pieces!
Dolls are strewn across the streets with skirts lifted high.
Headline news! Markets are buzzing with voracious bees;
Stinging for honey, for money to burn. Sly.
May I escort you sir to higher gains? Just feed the slot
Machine coffers with offers of fine dining and lustful desires.
Become bloated and coated, botched and scotched
And drink embers mellow as you repast by the fire!
Suits you sir! That suit should fake them and shake them,
For you look a right toff and in those two tone brogues
None can guess and think anything less of you and your suit
That is pin striped and blue. Welcome to 'Cafe Rogues'.
Are you a gambler sir? Do you place your bets well?
Do you prefer evens or odds or don't you give a sod?
There are no consciences here sir! We'll take your money
And spend it on honey and fine clothes by God!
Paper!paper! Read all about it, headline news!
Dolls are found in alleyways torn to shreds!
Escorts are fattened calves ready for the slaughter!
Suited toff is found dying in Savile Row gutter!
Gambling money spinner wins. Camera closes the shutter.
Mary
Mary Eliza Mahoney
birth in 1845 an American black child of former slaves daughter of Mary Jane and Charles Mahoney
at 18 showed interest in healing Humanity
in 1863 and the New England hospital for women and children headed
into the healthcare industry
has a younger sister named Ellen also wanted to become a nurse
but alas she didn't graduate
Mary train long days 16 hours
students then earn $1 to $4 an hour
Mary graduated 1879 as a registered nurse
alongside with three other colleagues as the first black woman nurse in the United States of America
2/6/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021©
Sunruse: May 7th 1845 Dorchester Massachusetts
Sunset: January 4th 1926 Boston Massachusetts
Nationality: American
Alma mater: New England Hospital for Women and Children
Doctors like road workers
Patients treated like squatters
Nobody working, just sitting around
Waiting for people to be in the ground
Cups of tea and coffee are plentiful
Only staring at screens like we’re unacceptable
The vulnerable unable to speak
Unable to ask questions and critique
No communication or explanation
Just constant need for evasion
Buzzing around staring at the floor
Being told we have to be grateful and adore
These people who don’t care
Basic human decency is too much, not fair
Walking around like zombies
As if their job is a part time hobby
Children play doctors and nurses
They more passion and more verses
The sick get sicker while they wait
The healthcare system such a state
Too much paperwork, not enough patient time
This lack of humanity should be a crime
Treatment is inhumane
You wouldn’t leave an animal in so much pain
Ignored for hours, days
Meanwhile they get far too much praise
Nobody attempts to care
While people are in despair
They lie about our past
when they call it shameful
the negative they grasp
to make it all seem painful
We gave the world the justice system
invented laws free of religion
stood up to oppressive leaders
freed the slaves and stopped the traders
We invented human rights
the rule of law and fought the fights
the modern world and all its sights
now they try to darken lights
When we had an Empire
we abolished slavery
gave the freedoms you desire
Some thought this could never be
the right to vote for leaders
Governance politically
modern day believers
ignorant to legacy
Our Empire was built on trade
protected by the military
Gave more than the others gave
positives of history
What we gave we do not owe
no other empire did give
when time came to let it go
that’s exactly what we did
There is a pride to being British
a mighty pride they’ll never know
some just want to see us finished
self hatred, a modern show!
Scotland sees England as their biggest rival
the nation to beat down and torture.
but down here in England we see the Scots
as our neighbours just north of the border.
we view our rivals as Argies or Germans
and the French just south of the water,
we don't see the Scots with the hate that they've got
and we don't share a desire for slaughter.
they are our rival that we barely notice
yet we are theirs and important,
we must be the greatest for them to hate us
and though they erupt we sit dormant.
they join with the Irish and all those from Wales
enjoying the days England fails,
I don't know this hatred that they've generated
all I know is that Scotland smells!
Reflection - The Fragrance of Grace
Mail order catalogs seem to have the ability to procreate in my mailbox. Just when I think I have rendered them infertile they give birth to multiple sets of quintuplets right under my nose as if by magic fertilization! And, of course, I have to examine these newborn opportunities to raid my bank account just to make sure I haven’t missed some article of clothing or thing I can’t possibly live without for the survival of sanity and my eternal happiness. They are like new spring leaves!
spring sprouts in new leaves
boughs sport jackets of light green ~
chartreuse convention
A new arrival from a New England country store pictured a garden of stately purple iris that immediately grabbed my hand and took me on a ride back into my grandmother’s iris garden with delicate, yet eloquent, perfume wafting from silky petaled garden royalty.
Each page was an adventurous journey through my childhood reminiscing about miracle wrinkle erasing creams, magic bunion healers and kitchen gadgets long declared useless by technology. But, one page made me stop, drop and drool - perfumes. No nascent scents but old friends looking at me from glossy pages bringing to mind the women who gave my life definition – the Royal Secret of my grandmother; Bellodgia and Gardenia of my favorite aunts; Tigress of my tigress mother and Blue Grass, a Kentucky meadow perfume of my teens.
These remarkable women straddled fleeing decades, crushing depressions, cataclysmic world wars often suffering the unthinkable loss of infants, children, husbands, siblings and miscarriages. Yet, through their signature scents, they taught me about thanksgiving in tragedy, faith in grieving and the irrepressible iron will to live in the fragrance of grace.
harlequin bouquets
fragrance of flower’s essence ~
sunlight washed gardens
4-21-21
Contest: Moments of Reflections
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury
The Fabian Society
thought we are as smart as can be
so we should run the country
and it will be so lovely
Accounting for their intellect
they study hard for no respect
but as it’s all they ever know
they live up high with you below
And even with the brains they have
they never socialise and laugh
or play in teams that forge connection
clever people meet rejection
Never learned to read the people
self assured they have no equal
thought themselves to be attractive
though awkward and Ill adapted
Still they see themselves the best
even though they fail the rest
they think life is all about brains
with their emotions lacking range
Just busy letting logic flow
a natural skill is all they know
never left their comfort zone
a know it all who’s never known