Long Fatherland Poems
Long Fatherland Poems. Below are the most popular long Fatherland by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fatherland poems by poem length and keyword.
Anti war activists, gay rights activists,
Green Peace, Pro Choice and women's groups activists.
Anyone who dares protest, anyone known who dare to resist
have all been placed on
America's Homeland Security Suspected Terrorist Watch List.
Hitler managed to round up hundreds of innocent Jews overnight successfully
and confine them to concentration camps where they were treated most brutally.
Executions and torture occurred in great masses of many.
I assume that all now reading are familiar with that record of history.
How was Adolf Hitler able to do all of this?
All persecuted were on
Germany's Fatherland Security Enemy Watch List.
We are all currently witnessing a prerequisite of history everyone.
The List, you can't close down an open society without one.
President Obama promised change and so I now do ask him this,
"Why in the bloody hell does this "watch list" still presently exist?"
http://www.getmikeyoffthelist.com/2010/01/19/eight-year-old-on-the-tsa-terrorist-watch-list/
a stranger in familiar land
my blood
too sings from the cracks
of cobbled streets
i can count paces
between the old and new
i felt it within delicate configurations :
carvings and photographs,
ceramic figurines dipped in resin
my Mama’d collected,
passing
down like water in a slow stream
tipped in gravity
like me
i heard a song and let it carry me
felt a pull outside the scenes
of my fatherland
a daughter meant to leave
said my impassive stars,
if actions were to mean anything
but what does meaning look like?
everything looks the same here
but older
i hang the washing, walk
to the shop for eggs and cheese
and when i go back
i fall right in-
to all the same places
(only I’m driving)
but ‘nothing’s too far away
these days’ i tell my sister
and my friends,
sipping
beer as good as Texas
on a Tuesday in the west end
dripping
with irony
and maybe even satisfaction
Relaxing on a lovely fatherland verdant, silky hills.
It overwhelms us and absorbs us with all its gravity.
You are so close to me; gap is shrinking, god wills.
Luminous joy in this phantasmagoric love's audacity.
It overwhelms us and absorbs us with all its gravity.
Drift through our endless moods and touch our skin.
Luminous joy in this phantasmagoric love's audacity.
I inhale your lovely, cloying aroma and gulp it in.
Drift through our endless moods and touch our skin.
Our purest kismet bits, gyrating amid shimmering
I inhale your lovely, cloying aroma and gulp it in.
Astral raindrops poured down on our secretive ring.
Our purest kismet bits, gyrating amid shimmering
Cradled in your sempiternal devotion and love song
Astral raindrops poured down on our secretive ring.
I sense wisps of our kinship in a regal oasis throng.
Cradled in your sempiternal devotion and love song
Glistening in the brightness of the alabaster rays
I sense wisps of our kinship in a regal oasis throng.
related to the appearance of virescent future ways.
glistening in the brightness of the alabaster rays.
You are so close to me; gap is shrinking, god wills.
related to the appearance of virescent future ways.
Relaxing on a lovely fatherland verdant, silky hills.
Written: February 10, 2023
Nigerians are on the run
Refugees in search of Asylum
No more sweetness in their fatherland
Their dreams have crumbled
The giant of Africa is in shambles
With hope of her youth buried under the rubbles of
Man made insurgency
Banditry and insane killings
Evil holds sway everywhere
While goodness scamper to safety
Succor for the needy
Has been looted by the greedy
Kidnapping has been legalized
As perpetrators haggle ransom
With constituted authorities
Like in the open market
While security forces stand aloof
Awaiting their share of the pie
Armaggeddon is surely here
I watched them took-off for their search for greener pastures
Adventurers with unclosed or unknown destinations
One thing was sure; they were going to cross the Mediterranean
Their determination overweighed the risk ahead of them
They were so desperate for a better life than their present conditions
Even like armless soldiers at war, they were ready to embark on their journey
These were all disgruntled youths from Africa
Their fingers of anger were all pointed at their leaders and governments
I watched them packed their loads, ready to face the unknown
Their faces proved disappointments from their fatherlands
In their minds, there was no better place than across the Mediterranean
These were jobless graduates from Africa
It was better to die in a strange land than live in a corrupt fatherland
These youths were running away from embezzlement and violation of human rights
But little did they know that all their dreams would be shattered in the Mediterranean Sea
I saw a group of frustrated mothers when the sad news stormed our land
Their dreams for a rich and better life had drowned in the Mediterranean
They cried with accusing fingers pointed at the government
Yet the government showed no compassion for her fallen compatriots
Neither did they express any pity for tears of these poor mothers
How I wished this injustice was rendered to them as well
But there was so little I could do by then
There was never a land sweeter than Bamenda
Nor a land so full of honey: Buea
Full of a consanguineous race
A people garnished by love and commensurateness
A people though battered to smithereens
Never for once have cast adrift their rectitude
There was never a land so full of stoicism like Bamenda
Though maimed, have never wept
Though battered, have never laid low
Though shot, have never remained obeisant
But have always stood up when though dead,
To beat her chest and shout, “I AM BAMENDA”
There was never a land so cherished like Southern Cameroons
That for freedom’s sake
Anglophones would joyfully forfeit their lives
And just as richly put by G.N Gwangwa’a
“If an Anglophone should die,”
Then let him die fighting
Preach these in the streets of Yaoundé
And let it be sung in the halls in Douala
That there was never a proud race like the oppressed Anglophones
Who for freedom’s sake,
Would willingly lay down their lives
There was never a land so blessed like Southern Cameroons
Where milk and honey flows;
Never a people so conscious of equality
And while the white and blue flag waves from Buea Mountain
Anglophones embrace freedom.
Temajung Michael T. [B.A]
Love that cast out every fear
Teach me, Lead me, love lead me
In the path of righteousness
For your righteousness is ever sure
Love that cast out every fear
Help me, heal me, love restore me
In the path of truth and holiness
For your truth and holiness is ever sure
Love that cast out every fear
Correct me, purge me, love chastise me
In the path of kindness and love
For your kindness and love is ever sure
Love that cast out every fear
Hold me, redeem me, love purify me
In the path of faith and hope
For your faith and hope is ever sure
Love that cast out every fear
Guide me, direct me, love guard me
Least I slip and wonder away
In this rough and dreary path
Love that cast out every fear
The word incarnate, The word made flesh
Position me, love continuously guide
Until I stand in my fatherland.
AFRICAN STORY(SLAVE IN OUR FATHERLAND)
Our story! Our story! Never change
We are lost in the dark,
Not seen the light,
The stranger takes our home,
Make order,change our thought
They enslave us with change of suffering,
They took us from our fatherland,
They took away our fathers,
And turn they to cow in the field,
No water in the field,
To wet their tongue.
They become a native dog,
In their watch post,
Our women are left to suffer,
Our children are train has slave,
Our women are turn to sex machine.
Although we loss things,
But our colour remain .
B ANIEMEKA NATHANIEL
Sophie Scholl was raised a Christian in a Lutheran family
Born in the town of Forchtenberg in south west Germany
For standing defiant against evil with her young life she'd pay
In a country that was in deep turmoil and had lost its way.
She was a young teenager in nineteen thirty three
When a new leader offering hope, emerged in Germany
Adolf Hitler was an Austrian, who came to power
And for many it was the start of their darkest hour.
To unite the German people the Nazis held rallies
In some of the larger towns and all the big cities
But something dark and sinister was taking place
The evil Nazis were plotting to create a master race.
All the youth were encouraged to join an organisation
Hitler youth they were known all over the nation
Sophie and her brother together, with some of their friends
Turned their backs on the movement and vowed to make amends.
Word was getting around about death camps and persecution
Together they decided to form, a small non violent organisation
Known as the 'White Rose' who urged the people to renounce Hitler
They handed out leaflets telling the truth, about the Nazis slaughter.
One day at Munich University where Sophie studied as a student
She was seen distributing leaflets on what Nazi ideology meant
A janitor intervened and confronted her, and wouldn't let her go
She was arrested and then handed over to the notorious Gestapo.
They interrogated her to find out, who her accomplices were
But she wouldn't give them their names, as they tortured her
They charged her with high treason and sentenced her to death
To die by the guillotine and the date of execution was set.
They executed twenty one year old Sophie for making a stand
And they had accused her of being a traitor, to the fatherland
They eventually captured the others, five of them in all
And they too walked to their deaths standing proud and tall.
It’s people like Sophie who want to make the world a better place
And not supporting some twisted ideology like a master race
The Nazis were eventually defeated and their leaders tried
But not before Sophie and millions of other innocents had died.
Written 15th May 2021.
There are no bands in death
They are in various states
Lifeless in varied postures
Brought for different reasons
Some palsy and age took their toll
Others victims of premature machinations
Many fell from jealous causatives
A lot from envious enemies
Modest number in the line of duty
Protecting the sanctity of fatherland
Oh yes the occupant of this space:
He was the community’s tallest
His height wrestled and intimated iroko trees…
Now vanity
This lady…
I remember
Had a voice sweeter than a Nightingale
Her shrill high pitched soprano
Bordered on the corridors of falsettos
Cracked glasses unending
Vanity upon vanity
There are no bands in death
Bones litter a grave’s mouth
As cleaved and cut wood upon the earth
Philosophical quandary:
Point of no return
Cessation of cessations
‘Fallacy of misplaced concreteness’
An end to spectrum of living
To the living the dead never die:
They are always with us
In songs, stories and legacies
They may fly away never to be seen
Only on JUDGEMENT DAY
The rest is for us to live right
Walking the old paths wherein our Fathers walked
For there are no bands in death.