Long Executions Poems
Long Executions Poems. Below are the most popular long Executions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Executions poems by poem length and keyword.
Joshua Nkomo fought the white man
Who had come to Africa, taken the land
The whites ruled Rhodesia, though we should note
Toward the end they had one man one vote
Which meant that blacks and whites
in that respect had equal rights.
Nkomo saw his fight as one of racial liberation
Mugabe, his rival, also fought for a black nation.
Mugabe was a Shona, Nkomo a Ndebele
Neither of them were what you'd call a nice fella,
Russia supported the Ndebele, the Shona had China there
North Korea trained Shona too, a reason to beware
Mugabe became leader but not by winning the fight
He got elected, Shona voters had more might
White rule ended, and all lived happily ever after
Actually, not true, what happened next was a disaster
Mugabe unleashed the Five Brigade
They had trained in North Korea, time for Ndebele to be afraid
So what can we learn, I don't have a dog in this fight
I don't think colonial rule was right
The Ndebele tribe were now killed en masse
Vast numbers of corpses under the African grass.
The lesson as I see it is that the violent liberator
May resonate with you, but he can be a hater
When he gets into power, to keep power he kills
While the sympathizers close their eyes to the blood that spills.
Let’s apply this lesson to leftists in the Hamas tent
A few brave Gazans point out Hamas doesn't like dissent
One dissident's first day in jail haunts his dreams
He can't forget listening to his colleagues’ screams.
Hamas members won an election, made logical moves
They consolidated power, threw rivals off roofs.
Again, both rivals weren’t all that nice
Even if you like their cause, there is a moral price.
You can find justice in many a cause, but that doesn't mean
Those who take up arms are worthy of your esteem.
In the 90’s radicals might wear a Che Guevara t-shirt
But beware, when with communists you flirt.
Che liked witnessing executions by firing squad
He’d shoot the bullet too, so admiring him is odd.
Some Cubans learned the hard way, Joshua Nkomo did as well
You can leave Purgatory and still end up in hell.
Know this, my friend, and don’t look back,
Be you white or brown or black.
Freedom’s more than a rebel’s name,
It’s how you treat folks once you’ve won the game.
Go on
tell them
tell them how
your democratic masturbation
searching for solutions
has failed in calculation again
now people with eyes made of glass
are bringing war to us
war has no heroes, only victims
and people who forgot they are
formula is clear
we invaded their way of life
now they are attacking ours
an eye for an eye
until we all became blind
lightless
go on
run
shout your lungs out
when you use weapons
to maintain peace
bloodbath is inevitable
or this is what your real intent was,
is
to baptise us anew
launder in our own blood
on which book
are you evaluating valuable ones now
while you're designing
a brand new world
holding blameless victims
as hostages of your fundament
none soil
in blood built
remain peaceful sleep
are you sleeping well
knowing you set
Abraham's children confrontation
as two David's fight
while Goliath is watching from the audience
are you sleeping well being aware
you left no one
to keep that thumb up
when we all appear
lightless
Ice dancing is enchanting
Wonderful and incredible
It requires total dedication
To achieve perfect harmony
There are many exhausting
Rehearsals and tiring executions
On the acting itself on ice rink
They are like birds flying free
A beautiful art representation
Often synchronised with rhythmic
Motion of emotions and grace dancing
In accompanying soulful music theme
The audience see the whole impact
And every round about ordeal of action
Is not exempted in the scrutiny of the jury
The winner is crown the darling of the moment
And the most spectacular in all captured lens
But the glory of them all is one that does
The totality of those actors in the rink
Whose dedication and aspiration is unmatched
The expertise in their craft with love unreserved.
You have been accused, no more do we need
Point the finger at mother and daughter
Two Sutton girls with no chance to be freed
An impossible test, trial by water
They think you are spawn of the devil’s own seed
Sacred water denies you, twice you float
Only that of a witch, feet and hands bound
Would rise to the top in only petticoat
Perhaps better off as an innocent drowned
No executions at the bottom of the moat
A no win situation, death guaranteed
Guilty or not, your last breath is taken
By an ignorance with illogical creed
Who pointed your way, spiteful or shaken
And called out Witch. - Now the test will proceed
October 11, 2022
THREE STANZA POEM IN QUINTAIN (SICILIAN) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
I look back to my family tree from my father's and mother's side,
Getting a glimpse of our generations, tracing back through our bloodline,
I am a daughter of the Revolutionary War, my grandfather from my father's side fought for our freedom,
And the ancestors from my mother's side were French Hugonots who escaped persecution and the executions to become believers,
Both brought the freedom we have today for the love of God and country,
God used them to break the chains that bind our hearts from getting justice,
The freedom to believe means so much to me,
And now I understand this heart of mine from searching my families tree.
The loss of Sourthern Sons
Submitted by Serendipity on Wed, 2015-04-29 06:28
Today,
wakes to a red dawn punished
and sprayed in the blood of repentance,
compassion had begged in the
before, days turned minutes,
eternity now cradles repented
sons of the Southern Cross
They were more than death,
with courage they leave us
hope erased from the eyes
United over oceans and
long confused with desperation,
the silence of the fall
echoes across the Never Never
they are no more or less,
cloaked in a mantle of darkness,
far from our red dusted roads
and silently still
this mourning rains with
mute cries bled from two families,
agonized with the same torture
In the clarification of shocking
of reality, eyes gaped silence
this grimace of horrified truth moves all
they have taken lost sons found
whole again in confession and prayer
In this act, the numb
cold hand of death
touches us all
evermore cloaks their eyes
as ours are opened with truth
and to this new world bereft
of the gift of compassion
Blown loose from the world,
they asked for the boon of life
pleas from the world were,
Denied clemency !
Denied !
Denied !
Denied !
the empty soul of a foreign despot
raised the paper fist of a mute king,
a retribution of bullets severed
all the ties that bind
The shattering of mothers hearts
kills the light of the sun,
they are forced into infinity
this deed cant be undone
Outrageous power hangs
above our heads,
another world
foreign to true liberty
Sons of the southern cross
rest in the long sleep,
within the grace of home
their souls will find peace
As eternity kisses their lips
and the lilies begin to weep,
know they are there waiting
for us to join them in sleep
RIP - AC and MS 29th April 2015
The story behind this poem ...
http://www.news.com.au/world/breaking-news/bali-nine-pair-executions-set-for-3am/story-e6frfkui-1227325790962
Auschwitz
1.3 million people sent there
1.1 million died
Jews Germans Russians
Ethnic Poles French Czech
Many Others
Auschwitz I (Main Camp)
Barracks 1939
Home to Polish Prisoners of War
May 1940 First thirty prisoners
German Career Criminals
Sadism, torture, beatings
Tattoos of serial numbers
August 1941
First Gassings
Soviet and Polish Prisoners
Cell Block 11
Auschwitz II (Birkenau)
Concentration and Extermination Camp
1942-1944
Jews transported by freight trains
Death
Gas Chambers
Starvation
Disease and Torture
Executions
Auschwitz III (Monowitz)
Financed by Private Industry
Inmates employed
Spring 1941
Walking through town to work
July 1941
Factory workers
Transported by freight train
1943-1944
35,000 inmates employed
Inhumane Conditions
Daily Deaths
Exhaustion
Disease
Starvation
January 1945 Evacuation
The Death March of 9000 Inmates
Most were Jews
Transported by rail to subcamps
Jan. 27th, 1945
Liberation
We must never forget, we must teach future generations history. We can never let this happen again.
04/20/2021
Written for The Last Train To Auschwitz Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Believe it or not, their ubiquitous webs
Are everywhere; they are the dictators
Who kidnap, maim, torture and kill teachers,
Poets, ordinary folks and babies in their cribs.
They rob and ransack innocent citizens,
Steal elections and after a lifetime in power,
Categorically refuse to leave the tower.
Very often, they do everything to muzzle the chickens.
Monsters are constantly in disguise,
They are well dressed, they wear uniforms,
They know how to blend and to socialize.
Monsters, at every turn, want to control the dorms,
Manipulate the data, fool the media,
Hire henchmen and spread false propaganda.
Monsters behave like manipulative magicians,
They suck the air out of the innocent bystanders,
Befriend desperate and impoverished musicians,
Surreptitiously inveigle the nosy neighbors
To exteriorize their feelings, and they spy and lie,
At every opportunity; and at every occasion,
They bury their preys alive in the dungeon.
Believe it or not, monsters are like rats,
Their appetite is insatiable; they crawl under the mats,
Bite babies, steal millions, and hide the money in overseas coffers;
They rape young boys and girls, and destroy the future of many.
The revolution was not done right ‘cause the kidnappers,
The pick pockets and their accomplices are still under the tree.
Those raccoons, those bedbugs don't go away easily.
They outlive the exterminators. These goons are really bright.
Be cautious, because they are out there day and night,
Operating at every meeting and at every party.
Believe it or not, all bad things must come to an end:
The lies, the crimes, and the arbitrary executions of the church band.
Copyright© February 2012, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books:
Slave ships drowning our names in the darkness of so-called “civilized” nations,
A Yalta of vultures: yen, yards, barrels — Africa sold without ever being consulted.
Exegetes in uniform: incense and executions poured into the same holy font,
Césaire cried out; the colonizers counted cocoa, skulls, and schoolbooks.
A kaleidoscope of crimes: kepis, Kalashnikovs, mass graves, leonine contracts.
They spoke of “assimilation”; above all, they sought enslavement without eyewitnesses.
At the heart of slave plantations, the glory of empire carried the putrid stench of the torn holds of slave ships,
A “French Union” whose only true unity was the whip striking scarred backs.
High priests of the Republic, triumphant vocabulary dressing genocide in elegant attire,
Uranium from Niger, monetary ultimatums: an independence controlled by the Nazi bailiffs of the French treasury.
Soldiers without scruples sowing social earthquakes beneath the sacrificed suns of the trenches,
Slaughtered riflemen, traditions slashed apart by racist tribunals too convinced they were illuminating the face of the slaveholding Republic of Enlightenment.
And colonial schools imposed shame: “Speak French if you wish to exist in the garbage bins of assimilation.”
Red rivers of independence fighters reduced to the status of rebels to be pacified,
“Humanist” West: an oxymoron where the Black man remains an object to classify in the encyclopedia of movable property.
Mutilated memory, demonic masks locked behind glass while African mines are privatized,
Africans called “brothers” when they must die for the liberation of the Republic of the Code Noir; “migrants” when they seek merely to breathe beneath the fountains of liberty, equality, and fraternity.
Imperialism clothed in neocolonial garments: interests, influence, Arab, Maghrebi, and Tuareg terrorists as intermediaries — the whip has gone digital in the colonial trading posts,
Our ancestors were not savages: they were simply too dignified to be tamed by negrophobic barbarians haunted by their own existential anxieties.
Estimates of deaths attributed to regimes following Marxist-Leninist ideology in the 20th century vary widely, often cited in the range of 60 million to over 100 million people. These deaths occurred through executions, man-made famines, forced labor (Gulags), and deportations.
We do the same thing
over and over again
and expect a different result.
~attributed to Albert Einstein
“MARXIST REVOLUTION NOW”
is the most ignorant solution
I have heard in this 21st century
woe-is-me trajectory.
Sand castles are washed away
easily by time and tide,
less easily lies the blood
shed by revolutionaries.
Righteous is the cause in one’s own ideology,
and for this we make no apology.