Long Generations Poems

Long Generations Poems. Below are the most popular long Generations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Generations poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member A Last and Lasting Acorn

Deep within impermanence and continuity of change

Seeds lie shielded waiting and protected for the moment

They trust that the cupid cupule holds the bow and arrows

Firmly based in the grasp of nature and uncharted destiny


Sheltered for the generation of life's resilient circulation

Encased in a rough nutshell of inevitable wheels of life

Resides with un-shattered purpose a simple magic miracle

A gem more powerful than the chronicle of human nature


One day she says I'll be a forest in the budding aspiration

Of hope and kindness that spread with wind and fortune

The elements will nurture me until I'm ready to stand tall

For now I must be grateful for my budding tender youth


I don't grow fast but when my roots grip fertile undergrowth

My canopy gives wings to dreams and certitude of aspirations

Love is the meaning of the fertile soil gracing my surroundings

Founded in heaven I grant my strength to future generations


Equipped with a kernel of truth and change along the lineage

Core and essence transform vile lies from the sediment of time

Sometimes you close your eyes and trample on my saplings

But I'm a survivor and take care knowing that I'm truly loved


Surely you can cut the branches and try to break my promise

Craft treasure chests or dressers from my hardened resolve

Put another log on the fire and watch me rising from hot ashes

Build turrets for your fortresses of power and castles onto sand


Sometimes I drift in raging waters unable to steer my voyage

Float in the ocean and yet when spring resumes I'm here again

Smoothed and ground in the knowledge that my acorns live

Whatever weather may embrace my nascent children's fate


I can't complain for when I hand over the torch and novelty

When I'm old and felled down to size by turbulence and storms

I can rest assured that fires and drought did not snuff my passion

And that my final passage opens opportunities from start to end


13th April 2020


Indigenous Creatures of My Writing Desk

There is an antique writing desk
in my little study
handed-me-down
from generations of would-be
writers in my family

And there are ancient creatures
from days gone by
living in this old desk still
evil, larcenous little creatures
envious of literary skill

This explains much

Lately, I have caught them unawares
aghast, thought I imagined them
but they are really there
surly, sinister, repugnant creatures
in my writing desk

There's a putrid little jerk,
called Pernishicus who lurks
behind the piles on my desk 
glorying in the mess
a malevolent, grimy-mauve gremlin
 
Who preys on newly created works
stealthily spraying them
with foul feculence
as soon as I commence
my writing- 

...Sometimes missing slightly
and tagging my hand
making it hard to stand
myself (much less my writing)
for days on end

Then there's a creepy
mesmerizing fiend
they call Spelbadger
a translucent thing, quite obscene
who shifts in the shadows and purrs

With dark eyes deep- constantly changing
like stones from mood-rings
set in his skull
he psychically bullies,
intimidates and muddles
until my poor brain
is worn and dull

And perhaps worst of all
is that one, Grumblesleaze
with pale, glowering eyes diseased
a gray-green, mangy looking thing
whose famous quirk
is that he has the gall 
to grouse about my work...

As he viciously shreds it
then glunshing and munching
greedily devours it all
leaving no note
or trace of remembrance
of my past brilliance
behind

Oh, out of spite
he might leave a few
of my ill-penned
unfortunate lines
I planned to cut anyway
or pull my worst attempts
from the waste-can
and lay them out
to remind me of my failures

Yes, this explains much

For there was only one before
our one lone ancestor
who was able to write
at this desk prolifically
tapping out volumes rather heroically

'Though tiresome and tedious
dry history and drivel
which, no doubt, shrank and shriveled
and lulled these creatures off
to sleep for years

Until we woke them up
broke their hibernation
with more interesting stories
and imagination, colorfully crafted
ingenious, piece after piece

Clicking and clacking away
on typewriters, keyboards
generation after generation
of irritatingly gifted writers
disturbing their peace
it had to cease...

Warrior Within Her

She is more than a tourguide
but a warrior within her soul
who is a champion of Bahamian hospitality  ambassador of the natural environment 
and a pioneer with a spirit
for creativity and innovation 
quenching the thirst 
of her progressive mindset 
where curiosity is her superpower


She is a teacher and a storyteller
who set the standard for visitors 
and how to become a true, true Bahamian
through historical landmarks, folktales, cuisine
Rake and Scrape, bush medicine
blueholes and endemic birds
to create an atmosphere
where everyone would recieve 
the Bahamian VIP experience
whether they are from Miami,
Puerto Rico, China, or The Netherlands 


She is a visionary and servant leader 
behind the warrior found within her 
ahead of her time 
who is very selfless and approachable
always willing to put the necesities 
of her team ahead of her own accolades
like a tree feeding Pigeon Plums and Seagrapes 
to the White Crowned Pigeons
instilling inspiration in their hearts
to become more than only tourguides
but to become the guardians and stewards 
of the authentic Bahamian adventure 
for generations to come
© Mia Pratt  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Redacting History

Redacting History
Written: by Tom Wright
5/27/2019

By cultivating falsehoods that we hope will grow,
We omit things from books so others won’t know.
We spin the truth and from our history redact,
Telling lies with frequency until accepted as fact.

But time once lapsed, becomes set hard and fast,
Whether ripe with goodness, or deplorable, its cast.
The past is a storage locker accorded constant recall,
But too many spin the truth in order to enthrall.

Many aren’t content unless they keep the pot stirring,
The changes they’ve made have the truth now blurring.
This new slant on things, future generations will sway,
But spinning the truth won’t make bad things go away.



“It takes two to speak the truth-- 
One to speak and another to hear”
Henry David Thoreau
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Jehovah Reigns

JEHOVAH REIGNS:

All in the hands of Beelzebub!
The tempter of mankind,
The ancient adversary of GOD,
Who can never over throw Jehovah.
Why does he causes men to fall;
By explicitly seducing men from ages to ages...
Corrupts and blesses them with riches,
Then later steal their souls...
Inputs pride and enviousness in their hearts, 
Which makes them grow rebelous...
He broadcasts his cohorts into the the world, 
And the weak vessels get possessed by them...
Hence they go about infringing on others lives,
In order to win more souls into his camp,
Through music, movies and fashion...
Then later makes their lives go worst?

All in the hands of Beelzebub!
Why is he going about causing litigations,
Causes families to rise against themselves,
Causes friends to grudge among themselves,
Causes masters and servants to fight themselves,
Causes countries to fight themselves,
Causes religious entities to hate themselves,
And make them have their respective faiths...
He withstands the will power of men,
Because he wants to be worshiped by them,
Instead of men worshipping the True God...
He blindfolds men to go astray,
By making them worship creations,
And he makes life unbearable for the righteous,
By inflicting them so they give up on serving Jehovah?

Well, forever in the hands of Jehovah,
His chosen generations dwell as a big household.
Forever in His house...
His True worshippers keep their hopes and trusts.
The ruler of this physical realm is awake,
But the eyes of the Most is graciously  at stake,
On the lives of his sons and daughters. 
In him do we evidently originates,
Yet, He has allowed Beelzebub to rule this place
But verily, this place would soon fade,
Together with the ruler and his cohorts. 
The King of Divinity's glory will then be seen,
And the new world will be filled with peace,
As we will forever worship at Jehovah's feet, 
And there will be fulfillment of His promise, indeed.


Interface and Dynamics -Come-on Ya'll

Domeosapia: a condition due to capasity and volume.
A constant surge where a tour is targeted to be made famous by the dates and times, where they are seen to be in the fans favor.
***********An Example..... They saw it fit, after research to find facts had mislead them into beleiving certain contest were meant for certain audeinces and not for others. They re-evaluated there assesment  by taking a chance to do daytime shows to create a libary. The recorded show would be taped during the day. in small areanase of daytime could create the content to either be veiwed and mixed with a live show.
 In the creation of this product it could help future generations compare and prosper. That nothing is guareented but, the chance to create and discover could allow the cultural side of belonging to create: rejuvanate and cause the need for Pride. Days together where people can interact. Where stars can have words never before spoken.And the people to people  aspect could bring about positive storys and conditions.
Just think it could both create new fans and support the days of those who are in need . People with specail care can come out and be a part of the specticaul. Just a great time.
It's all in what we want: until the storm comes along and changes everything you know. It's great for humans to use all time to worship God through human activity. A shrimp and steak with cheesey grits, don't sound bad for lunch at the Matches.
We got the resources and the People, we need to just activate our togetherness mode. And go out and have a real good time!
Form: Bio

To Build This World a Heavenly Home

truth light traverses the dark false with its pre-gained victory 
           fidgeted ignorance losses to reach saturating zenith of peace
       catastrophic mockery is a curse to human generations of the world 
          time heralds negative rewards for anomalies from human truth
          love is the only solution that keeps the world clean and Divine
      human beings are of the same  species that’s to be thought it’s prime
        save the children save the mothers they build the real loving world
            without them this world is a hellish region no one can decline 
     let’s all come with free hearts of loving to build this world a heavenly home
        holding brotherhood relationship by throwing all negative syndrome
          in the mass and height of jealous hill ferocious volcano is hidden
                   nothing is got but only ashes after mass destruction
Form: Verse

Premium Member Rest In Peace Young Soldier

Rest in peace fellow soldier
Your time here is done
When your family are much older
A family member and a son

You gave your life for us all
For the lives that we may lead
You are now attending heavens ball
About you, generations they will read

Your sacrifice is not wasted
This I can assure
This poem is not cut and pasted
It's about every death in war

You will be missed by many a friend
And family that's a fact
I bow my head in the end
As I too did take the pact

Although I'm here to tell my tale 
It hurts me every day
When family's all go very pale
When the bugle has to play
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Righting American History

America's had lots of heroes through the years
Helping the world overcome many fears
Humankind hasn't always been kind
Look closely at history, see what you find

Our founders succeeded and failed many ways
People of color not treated fairly those early days
Three fifths a human is a void left incomplete
An error future generations destined to repeat

Indigenous people's abuse not a matter of pride
Devastation of natives a story history did hide
The Iroquois Confederacy gave us our republic's design
Its novel concept: states and nation's powers align
All of which helped founders form this great nation
We repaid this gift by invoking near annihilation

The Statue of Liberty invited all to come in
Remember our promise once again can begin
Supremacy, Eugenics, Ethnic biases towards the other
Can result in policies separating a child from a mother

In the last great war the Japanese here were incarcerated
Their concentration camps long since have been eliminated
Still the attitudes of ethnic discrimination persist
We always fall prey to what we resist

Much that hurts you is what you don't know
Amazing how deep "Bigoted Suffrage Suppression" did go
All minorities' suffering here has been vast
Here's how it plays out in the recent past:
1920: Women first get to vote
1924: Native Americans first get to vote
1943: Chinese citizens first get to vote
1946: Asian Indian citizens first get to vote
1950: Asian native born first get to vote
1952: Japanese citizens first get to vote
1965: African Americans first get to vote
Bigotry is deeper and bigger than you knew

Power and domination over others does not make right
Today, we must deal with all minorities' plight
It's our nation's unrealized promise that all will be free
Our union depends on the promise that we all can be
Created equal is what makes us all as one
When we get there as a nation, our work will be done

Every great society has dark secrets untoward
Looking back helps us see our way forward
This is why truth always makes a difference
Lost civilization's ethics is their lasting evidence
America's still young as history does show
Compassion and integrity will light where we go
© Greg Gaul  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

The Bajillion Dollar Business of Christmas Circa December 2019

Despite being atheist, 
with serpent teen eyes,
I would nonetheless bet 
Eve fen number guys
named Adam, or gals noel lies
(christened) dollars to donuts
(Dunkin and/or otherwise)
Jesus would be mighty pleased
to know, his surname
linkedin with commercial ties,

no matter, he might not garner rise
zen percentage of profits, no matter spies
infiltrate competition especially if he
unwittingly gets trampled and cries
amidst chaos (think euthanize)
untimely death by madding wise
flash mob crowd source realize
last seconds rushing to snap up
latest jamb door prize
as venders resort to all

manner of (subliminally
manipulative) marketing techniques
to lure patrons, (especially
photo opportunities with
one of the many
"FAKE" donned Santa
Claus), the latter,
who would lionize
their son(s) and/or apprise
daughter(s), subsequently

guaranteeing, nailing crosswise,
and clinching safeguards exercise
immunization against the Grinch
sure fire way to manure er... fertilize
guarantee future generations rise
zing will become avid consumers,
who reverently, obsequiously,
and devoutly idolize
supporting the apostles who revolutionize
creative commercialization to capitalize

nearly every Cyber Monday
occasion to finalize 
(all sales) pennies on the dollar,
where merchants feign
going for broke, and capitalize
eulogize, and idealize
the mighty buck staging "FAKE" 
news worthy shoppers to burst into tears

crying on command,
and all manner of pathos
pulling ploys nsync king
"shameful guilt" that squares
singled out forevery one to ostracize, 
hash-tagged, and demonize 
yours truly as Scrooge.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace