Long Exported Poems
Long Exported Poems. Below are the most popular long Exported by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exported poems by poem length and keyword.
Born in their meadows and
bread for the masses - to
culture exploited, a suture
‘livery of freedom’
he spun on the wheel ~ I
canvas my flag, and the future.
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Khadi means handspun and handwoven cloth. In 1918, Mahatma Gandhi started his movement for Khadi as relief programme for the masses living in India's villages.
Raw materials then were entirely exported out of the country by the colonists and re-imported as costly finished cloth, depriving the local population of work and profits on it.
Gandhi didn’t just revive India’s flagging Khadi industry, he made the humble hand-spun fabric the symbol of all things swadeshi (indigenous to the country). When he encouraged people across India to boycott foreign clothes, spin their own yarn and wear Khadi, he was encouraging them to rediscover their pride in their heritage while lending support to their rural brethren.
It is also the most sustainable and eco-friendly product whose production requires no electrical support or fossil fuel and generates no toxic waste.
This fabric keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer!
The Indian national flag is always made of Khadi - It is not just a fabric but a way of life.
www.thebetterindia.com/95608/khadi-history-india-gandhi-fabric-freedom-fashion/
Your most recent interest in observational truth in laptop monitor
Gave you an ultimatum today.
He , as she, in he, as she again, grabbed you in all kinds of tree ,
remnant there before serenity
What is poetry, in the end?
Thinkable pedagogy, is , for the most bizarre reason, telling you
That this is comparable prepositions, with positionality
And the fruit of loom, or something relatable, there.
I felt a bang , and got a downsizing pounding sound,
Between, Jerusalem, Nazareth and prepaid Jesus to pay
More and more for a daycare say.
For a sip from the cup of the finest exported loose leaf tea
Are you a mere sip there, or you started to travel there, onsite
Creating all kinds of copyright issues, as the illegibility
Never declared you anywhere, in norms, in mother’s winter coat
Exactly how much was fatherly charm there, and how much there was a mere setting warmth
As people learn to happen in alibi as there is no straightforward way to find a definition or vision
Your cat was unthinkably your budget failure key, as they mew and sigh
But they were there, truly, with your most delicate caring try.
I think it is a joking endowment
As it will be a mere lump some .
Your rides and ride share with the knight rider storyteller
Only comparable to Little Red Riding hood
Changing the destined persona too, irreversible and altogether
I do not blame , judge , or juxtapose, there, I never pity too
But Bangla, and exactly 21 years long stay on this territory, with often heavy Bangla
I think I dreamt you last night, where you , as a soul and Clover, in a body
Did happen as the most charismatic duo! With a Zulkarnine monitor truth in!
Licking on the other side for hours and hours in longer duration
Will lead nowhere , exactly nowhere , other than, this, mortal life
Is a conscious choice between claim, proclaim and proclamation
I am a reluctant reader there, trying to look through, even beyond allegory and alighieri
You do not hold them accountable for your compositional hype for a dirge
That does not act linearly with your issue room, tissue room, and culture vulture too!
All you can say should stay there, for ever.
Do not send help reaching out there, never there
Simply a one liner truth for falling short from a papyrus poem, anyway
As this must be helping to internalize, more than anything than that.
Dee clubb of davos, meets twice a year.' Un saintly rules to
Tank' that stinks.. From here.' Like vegetation to long underwater.' Slime and stench creeping 'over the borders'
A land pristine of 'white powdered' mountains colonisers
Of canberra.' Where they exported a pics-ean high fountain
Just like the one in geneva.. It springs to mind? Over an
Unruffeled lake, it all looks benign.' Back to the black-board
However we go.' Or perhaps? Its a pure white one.' Louse
Knabe, only knows.' Its a land of (choc o lait) a bit like old
Wonkas where trucks cant start before nine am or police
Will arrive and fine.' Which is not so fine.? Where you can't
Flush a toilet..' after ten o'cloch by night..You guessed it or
Another fine..Mess for any ' (not just stuff in the pipe-line) yet
Back to the conference centre where ( bugs are lauded ) as zee
Zouper food..This is all recorded.' I have heard some there
De-facate in bed.? If important thoughts are in their heads
( well the maids can clear it all up later ) its just perks of your billions.' And the fact your wealth is much greater.! Than
Nomal sense.? ( OH THAT WON'T DO.!) in the rarified air.' ten grand tips.? For doo-dooI'd say its not right.' Oh pooh.' So true unfair) yet
Thats the way of davos..In the year of the snake?? I'd nearly
Forgotton that omen.' So reptillian? btw the way do you
Want more cake.? The richest is availible only on such
Circus days.' Still makes a break from cricket bread and
Other junk food I must say.' Its really hard to see any benifits for the world.? Maybe its just me..? With my
Beliefs though one of which is (boys and girls) are much
Needed assets.' Indeed I stand to applaud; the reality of
A strong humanity.' And why not throw all our bugs overboard.)
The people of Ireland were suffering a terrible fate
Many of them were starving at an alarming rate
Their potato crops were failing because of the blight
Bit little or no help was given now that wasn't right.
The wealthy landlords fed their faces with meat so lean
Whilst the poor people starved now I call that obscene
They could have helped them but chose to let them die
The horrors that they suffered a grown man would cry.
The heartless landlords didn't care, they showed no pity
More concerned about profits for their masters in the city
They evicted many poor dying people victims of the blight
How in God's name did these landlords sleep at night ?.
At the roadside's men, women, and children lay dead
They put profit before people that they could have fed
Landlords exported all the grain to feed the wealthy elite
Whilst the poor starving people were dying at their feet.
"An act of God "said Trevelyan, now that was shocking
To use that as a lame excuse to do little or nothing
And he certainly wasn't alone, the clergy said it too
How simple minded they all were to think that was true.
They all looked the other way, they all had no shame
And did not do enough and found others to blame
One day they'll face judgement and that is a fact
And they can all explain to God why they didn't act.
A voyage to Greenland
Greenland is the largest island in the world, but it is not a continent
I looked up Nuuk the capital up on the YouTube; it is now a modern town
with supermarkets and even cafes.
I was there fifty years ago. Back then it was a rather primitive place
with a million barking dogs and drunk people on the dirt roads,
they used to hang dogs slowly so the hairs stood out and it was
exported as pelt one hopes this practice has been outlawed.
I remember the coastline it was bottle green and for once, still,
we went fishing in a clear stream so transparent and shallow
but when we waded over to the other side, it was so deep we could have drowned.
It was the coldest bath of my life.
Greenland was beautiful, but it was then not a place to remember with fondness,
except for the trout we caught.
I saw them.
Not as leaders—
as mirrors.
Davos is not a summit.
It is a battlefield of egos.
Trump spoke alone.
A monologue.
Because power does not debate.
Europe listened.
Smiling.
Wounded.
The man who promised peace
now rehearses war.
Not because he changed—
but because the stage demanded it.
Do not hate him, allies.
Study him.
He is your teacher.
He revealed
that love is rented.
Fear is owned.
Machiavelli warned you.
Better to be feared than loved.
Trump only obeyed the text.
A ruler must appear virtuous,
yet abandon virtue
when the state trembles.
Mercy, faith, honesty—
luxuries
when power is at risk.
You built this logic.
You polished it.
You exported it.
“The end justifies the means”
did not begin with Trump.
It built your banks.
Your neutrality.
Your silence.
Do not point fingers.
You trained the hand.
You dug the pit.
He fell in—
and dragged you with him.
Trump is not the disease.
He is the symptom.
Your rolling stone
has rolled back.
And now
you recognize your reflection
too late.
What is good for you
may be poison to another.
Western democracy cannot unite the Global South.
It was never meant to.
The slave master brings gifts
only to keep the slave obedient.
Its loopholes are weapons.
Its parties divide brothers.
Its opposition fuels chaos.
One nation—
many factions—
no progress.
This democracy was born in deception.
Raised in manipulation.
Exported through force.
Africa tried it.
South America tried it.
Asia tried it.
Tell me—
what changed?
Will your enemy give you a system
that makes you strong?
Never.
Their arrogance is childish.
Their insistence—
a sign of insecurity.
They are not gods.
They are wanderers
spreading disorder
and polluting the spiritual air of nations.
Look at Libya.
They brought “democracy.”
Now Libya burns.
If they praise you as a leader,
you have betrayed your people.
If they pressure you,
you are doing something right.
Europe and America preach freedom
while practicing control.
Their system is a cage
painted in gold.
Why did China rise
without their doctrine?
Because truth does not need permission.
Democracy has many meanings—
not just theirs.
They demand obedience
and call it civilization.
They force their model
and call it progress.
But the world does not need actors.
It needs rulers
who dictate the right path.
They call Xi a dictator.
His people call him a hero.
Results speak louder than slogans.
Europe lives in the shadow of old glory—
World War ghosts.
But the world has shifted.
Respect is demanded,
not begged for.
If they refuse to change,
history will correct them.
If they cling to pride,
pride will destroy them.
They pose as Goliath.
But David is rising—
from the Global South.
Grain, oil and gas from Russia; we must find other ways
To ensure that the unhinged war criminal, Vladimar Putin pays
They want sanctions lifted and they'll free up grain from Ukraine
Seems like the sanctions are at last working and inflicting pain.
Many poorer countries in the world rely on the exported grains
But it's stuck in ports because of mines, in the shipping lanes
The whole civilised world, and the United nations need to act
Or people in poor countries will die of hunger, and that is a fact.
Vladimar Putins empty threat is nothing more than a lie
He tells the west to jump up and the west asks how high
The west's response to Vlad Putin needs to move up a gear
Or he and his cronies will be thinking, we're cowering in fear.
I urge the civilised world leaders to send weapons at any cost
Or the Ukrainians will be overrun and their territory lost
Zelensky is pleading for long range rockets, to defend his land
To help drive out the invaders and give Ukraine the upper hand.
Russia is desperately recruiting men at home, to join their army
And have upped the age limit to enlist, to claim some sort of victory
Pensioners with guns you'll soon see who are ready to croak
The once thought invincible Russian army, is nothing but a joke.
Written 29th May 2022.
Riding an elephant
Down the narrow trail looking triumphant
Scanning the golden landscape
Like Hannibal with enemies in flight
Sight from a lofty height
King of the jungle moving
With lioness by his side
Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro
Guides by my side with packs on their backs
Some paths steep with rocks
Boots slipping below our tired feet
Beautiful birds in unison flight
Moving with terrestrial light
Stunning sunlight summit on the peak
Praying in an Ethiopian Church
Preserved in rocks built by humans’ hands
Never touched by conquest plans
Protected from the invaders’ footsteps
Queen of Sheba and Solomon’s nest
Touched by Arch of the Covenant
Mary, Joseph, and Jesus once slept
Eating yam, sipping palm wine, and tasting milk
Freshly squeezed by experienced hands
Taste of life in the mosaic grassland
Sustaining and soul refreshing
Cradle of humankind adorning
Invaded for its gold, riches, and human capacity
Birth of life on earth with tenacity
Respecting its living and arduous journey
Essence of life once was and is again to come
Riding a camel across the hot Sahara sand
Once wet now dried, exported gold from Mali…
Treasures from the hearts of once African empires
That which was, is, and shall forever be
Africa the birthing Motherland
We still love and respect thee!
~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~
Seventh Place Winner
"African's Pride" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Adeleke Adeite
June 30, 2010
~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~
© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., (Epulaeryu Master) 6/29/2010
All Rights Reserved, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA
To love your enemy
I should not say this, but there is no way to hide
I had a wonderful childhood when our country was
at war and occupied the mighty German army
walked in and out of an army barracks, riding on their
enormous horses, dark chocolate, drinking morning milk
until peace broke out, and it was back
to stark poverty that felt as if the daylight had been
switched off by an unseen hand
Headlong into communism, almost a humorous, but
That, too, had its sell-by date, and a cold war began
As seamen, we were in demand moving American
made gods around them had moved their industry
abroad and only exported wars
Once upon a time, I loved the USA, and I still have a pair
Of the jeans bought in New York, the jeans have shrunk
But I keep them as a memory of a glorious past