Long Fired Poems
Long Fired Poems. Below are the most popular long Fired by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fired poems by poem length and keyword.
Stamens and pistils
delicately poised
Shamans and pistols
making too much noise
Soft buzz preferred,
a silencer’s desired
Pollinator’s sense
the triggers just fired
Nectar brings balance
agape open wide
Willing the seeker
to do laps inside
Comes with a snag
also stitch in the side
Fulcrum of a rose
the thorn realised
My soul’s not a flower
just gives and takes
Wants what it craves
accepts all, even fakes
Opens too early,
closes far too late
Can’t tell if I’m full,
yet knows when I’m sate
Possesses a thorn,
and stabs by design
Fulcrum of my soul’s
human not divine
Protects at all costs
only thing that’s mine
Not pain or loss,
just my life to define
Social Justice
Social justice is the fair and just relation between the individual and society.
I am an American
I just want fair and just treatment
wanting my fellow man and government
to represent, me
fairly
A measured explicit and tacit terms
for the distribution of wealth, opportunities
for personal activity and social privileges
this is social justice
fairly
I am black-African American
I just want fair and just treatment
wanting my fellow man and government
to represent, me
fairly
I profess Christ in my life
I am not ashamed to tell my boss or my job
religious discrimination
retail and governmental confinements work on required days
Or your fired
just want a right to be respected
fairly
There are four types of justice
Distributive, procedural, restorative and retributive.
I just want to be equally representative
child labor, miss-cradled
Racism, still hating for the color of our skins
education, teach the same have the same contents of books
Shelter/housing, all should have a descent place affordable place to live
Bullying, corruption jealous ashamed people sorrowful wanting power over you
Medicine, disabled people I must miss some meals sell my used car to afford
poverty I control but yet my governmental task masters really control
I am a Christian
Not ashamed to tell you or the government
I just want fair and just treatment
wanting my fellow man and government
to represent, me
fairly
Economic justice is a component of social justice
It's a set of moral principles
I need equal opportunity created for a sufficient
material foundation upon which to have a dignified, productive, and creative life beyond economics.
to represent, me
fairly
Racism, violence in schools, drug abuse
Unemployment,
Hunger and unfair labor conditions
Main reason we're in this
Is because of individual free-choice process
rarely
I am human caught in this mess
Called social justice?
03/29/18
Social Justice free verse - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by:John Hamilton
I quickly joined the Navy on June the 4th, 1943,
As soon as I graduated at 17, life was definitely to be;
I received boot training in the state of Maryland,
At Bainbridge, became a navigator noble and grand.
I was sent to Amphibious Training wet, phew wee,
At Little Creek in Virginia, where I got my crew,
Of different ranks including machinists as gunners,
The craft was 56-foot, our rations made us stunners.
But I was separated from my crew, went to Plymouth,
In England, placed on a Liberty ship used to house,
Replacement cargo for artillery that got destroyed,
Which was so much longer than the crafts deployed.
In Fahnouth England, I memorised Normandy maps,
Prepared and used a Reflectoscope to turn on the taps;
We were scared of poison gas when we hit Omaha,
I was quarantined on June 1st of ’44, needed mama.
We saved many from the crafts using cargo nets sublime,
But they were difficult to climb in the rough seas, crime,
A craft almost mounted the ship ‘cos of a high wave,
And always we had to be steely and very, very brave.
The bombs from the Nazi’s were the size of footballs,
And we painstakingly recovered many bodies, stalls,
From the water which had just beaten them cruelly,
And that first D-Day morning we were losing brutally.
The Germans hedgehogs, or bombs for the landing crafts,
Fired on us from a pillbox, but in my case American staff,
Took my attacking pillbox out, and I was just so grateful,
‘Cos it was causing me havoc ‘cos I almost felt too awful.
Luckily that night two German planes simply just avoided us,
After a few days we did hydrographic 3D printing work, suss,
For which I was commended, I contributed to today’s 3D printing
Then I lead the invasion of southern France, which was amazing.
The Panama Canal saw me on a rocket ship headed for Japan,
But the A-Bomb ended the war, and we went state-side to tan,
My Honourable Discharge was in March of ’46, and I was quick,
To get back to my peacetime activities, but never forgot the sick.
If a lip could weave its own refrain,
It would drape itself; longing for delight,
A fleet strumming; a pair, in soothing rain,
World's lightening kept alive one stolen night
It would sing of passionate pages turned
Inside the bars, it holds moments 'til heartbreak
Vermillions borders crossed, endless war is yearned
What was fired from the eyes, leave Cupid's bow to take
In phantom touch, it tastes both love and rhyme
Petals, drawing on petals, the instruments, a blur
It is a joy, thrumming tune, at the pulse of all sprung time
In silence of the moment, it becomes a song for sure.
Closing at the commissures of superior and inferior seams,
sweetness is humbled; as I am won, with anothers dreams
they stood at the starting crease
poised for the gun to be fired,
hundred meters to run and ease
then that gold that heart desired!
morning sun set their skin aglow,
flags of nations with hopes raised,
black, white, all body shades we know,
pride of event, differences erased!
9 seconds at best is all might take,
winners, losers in fractions of scale,
how a few seconds can a winner make,
with years training, some yet may fail!
Life is a long race that we all run
that often starts with our own cry,
there is no gold when it is all done,
a few tearful thoughts at final good bye!
Life’s race is not a race at all,
should you really think about it,
time bound journey of body and soul
wisdom gained at fate’s gambit.
I travel alone, have no one to defeat,
If you want to win, just pass me by,
at final rest, one day we shall meet,
no winners or losers, we did all try!!
Written 18/06/2023
rhyme
Syllable counts from 7 to 10.
Not for any competetion- there is no race!
Desperation leaves behind a rancid,
State of mind,
Bomb blasts ring through the city,
Deafening the already blind,
What a pity.
Aimlessly wandering alone,
Have no more a home,
All I want is a small space,
In a bombed out place,
To hang my head,
Cry and mourn my dead.
I heard my wife’s terrified scream,
Our children died,
At the scene,
As so did she, the apartment
Separated into two,
As bricks, mortar and
Debris flew,
The images are and will be
With me,
Wherever, whatever I do,
I made my way to
Join the line,
Wanted to be recruited.
Behind me,
I was joined with yet a few,
More who wanted to fight,
As was the only thought
That was foremost in our minds
For what we had, and lost,
We paid the unimaginable,
Ultimate cost,
Our family’s blood was spilled,
To live or die,
Meant nothing anymore,
I wanted to join my family
At Heavens door.
And so I enlisted,
Men, anyone please come, we
Need you, I was thirty nine,
In my prime,
Over eighteen, another
Twenty one years to reach sixty,
They accepted a limping
Volunteer who was fifty,
Same state of mind, me
And he,
Our weapons at the ready,
Wishing for the moment,
As I held my
Daughters’ small brown teddy.
I never thought revenge
Was sweet,
Dear God forgive me,
Such a treat,
Holding this gun,
Even though I know
I’m beat.
Such tanks I’d never seen,
I did not care, I stood in front
And fired and fired.
I must have died,
For faintly I see,
All three,
Welcoming me,
My wife,
My life,
My children,
And my papa.
Who we’d lost last year,
I felt no fear,
I was almost home,
And no more alone.
I met a creature at the park
that I did not recognize
in the dark
Its eyes glowed under its chin
and its schnozz looked broken
Its mouth was upside down
one-half smile, one-half frown
A mushroom hat covered its head
while its body was teeny-weeny
like Charlie Brown with a beanie
So I said 'Hello,' nice and relaxed
-- and sloooowwww
At once the creature fired back
'Do not eat the yellow snow'
At which point I decided
where the hell N. Ed Dibble AI can go
70.
My Life in Dumarao
Dumarao – teen and adult abode
Where memories are both good and bad
My gratefulness when I received from thee
School honor garnered unexpectedly
But in exchange I got few friends only
Who later dwindled ‘til I was lonely
Our improved house resembling a prison
My routine changed, I was in derision
The field not ours was developed further
Without buying it from the landowner
Father's money were quickly exhausted
Everynight's like party – glasses toasted
Foods that we should eat – to animals fed
Chickens, pigs, pigeons, goats…later were dead
So there emerged our sari-sari store
Which I needed also to take care for
Time for fun, highschool gimmicks – missed a lot
To redeem my lost school honor I plot
Yet, all in vain, worse, my batch had fallen
In school competitions where we should win
After all, tragic OLSI memory
Taught me never again to be bossy
And when I was already in UP
My vow in life was full humility
On class days, I learned a lot in Miagao
On weekends, I went back to Dumarao
Where life was still and moving in slow pace
So when I thought I was behind the race
Worked even before I marched from college
On government office even low wage
Not disappointed, but discontented
To Metro Manila I bravely fled
Tutor in Korean Academy
Not fired, not resigned, left job abruptly
At those times of blatant stupidity
To home once again with my family
Maybe fate wants me to be here
Dumarao's love for me may be sincere
And I think I'm also loving thee now
If our love fails again, there's broken vow
Now, your weakness I slowly understand
My test of faith I patiently withstand.
-11/27/2011
(Dumarao)
*First Incubus Collection
Tyrone and the Black Dog
Tyrone was a young man;
He wanted to have fun.
He was from a seedy part of town;
But he didn’t own a gun.
"Black dog quit your growling,
Don’t come around here anymore.
I got no use for black dogs,
Quit scratching at my door".
Tyrone could throw a football;
Best in all the land.
They promised him a scholarship
And a bucket load of fans.
Black dog he comes creeping,
When they turn out the lights;
And for a Girl named Brenda
Tyrone decides to fight.
Nobody knows who fired the shot;
But oh, his Momma Cried.
When the hopes of all a family.
Fell in the dirt and died.
Children killing children;
It has gone on way to long;
"Black dog what’s your purpose?
Everybody knows you’re wrong".
It was high noon in Dodge City, Kansas on that hot and sultry day.
The sheriff was makin' his leisurely rounds on Old Dan, his faithful bay.
Rowdy cowpokes was wettin' their gullets tossin' whiskey down.
That mornin' they'd herded their steers to the railhead jes' east of town!
After bein' on the trail fer weeks they was ready to go on a drunken toot!
The sheriff had been through this before and was ready to settle any dispute!
He was lanky with a leathered face and wore a .44 slung low on each hip.
He was fast on the draw as shown by a dozen notches on each grip!
The cowboys convened at the Long Branch Saloon when an uproar was heard!
They was settlin' an issue with Slick, the resident gambler, that had occured!!
They was yellin' and cussin' tryin' to git their paws on that miserable cheat!
A brawl erupted and shots was fired - the fight spilled out into the street!
The sheriff arrived on the scene and expertly drew his blazin' guns!
After the smoke had settled, three fellers was sprawled upon their buns!
Their pals, havin' seen the odds, hopped on their hosses and took to hoof!
The gallant sheriff triumphed once agin and thus ended the daily spoof!
When the swirlin' dust had settled and the billowin' smoke had dissipated,
The tourists who saw this excitin' event cheered those who had participated!
I reckon you thought a bit of history was bein' played out in old Dodge City!
(If I "steered" you in that direction with this bull, what a doggone pity!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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