Long Germany Poems
Long Germany Poems. Below are the most popular long Germany by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Germany poems by poem length and keyword.
Japan at War
Japan wages war;
winds bring clouds lullabying
Mount Fuji to sleep.
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Note:
Japanese political revolution ended the Edo period (1603–1867), which ended Japan’s isolation from the world. Japan entered a course of modernization, nationalism, and militarism, which eventually led to expansion, military occupation, and colonization of Southeastern Asian countries (Korea, Taiwan) and several South Pacific islands. In 1931, Japan invaded Manchuria, resulting in Japan leaving the League of Nations in 1933 because the Empire of Japan rejected the League of Nations Commission’s findings that recommended Manchuria become a state under Chinese jurisdiction. Then, in 1937, Japan attacked China (the Second Sino-Japanese War), which lasted until the end of World War Two (1939–1945).
On September 22, 1940, the Empire of Japan (1868–1947) entered World War Two with the invasion of French Indochina and, five days later, on September 27, 1940, signed the “Tripartite Pact” with Germany and Italy. On December 7, 1941, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, Oahu, Hawaii Territory, United States of America.
The season associated with the woodblock print (Red Fuji by Katsushika Hokusai) is between late summer and early autumn, when Mount Fuji appears to take on a reddish hue. This phenomenon occurs because of the combination of sunlight, warmer weather, and melting snow on the mountaintop, and the reflection of red light due to the clear sky and mid-level altostratus clouds.
The eternal seaman
Coming from the sea, he stayed at a B/B hotel Churchill
near the railway station in Liverpool, a handy place for working women
to bring their customers, who would come home late
blaming overtime at the office.
At the hotel was the captain/lieutenant waiting for secondment,
he suspected the wait would take some time because the officer
had seen a blue angel In Hamburg,
The army officer was an expert on the railway system in Germany
why the army would like to know this in 1972
when they could buy a timetable, a leaflet that explained it all.
He, himself, was a seaman when tired, of confinement on a ship
He paid off and spent his money in a small hotel walking around
drinking beer and lunching at a Chinese café, usually a curry dish.
One can say he was constrained by his lack of imagination.
Not that he was unsightly, women smiled at him, he smiled back
he walked on, not knowing what to do.
He had been a seaman all his life and never found his way home
his experience with women involved money, sex without any
emotional entanglement.
Nearing middle age, he, in the evening, drank with people who
meant nothing to him, like the deluded officer and his blue angel.
However, lately, he sensed dissatisfaction with his cosy life, like it
was coming to an end, perhaps, he will find his way back home.
Rich man’s blue
A problem when a person meets someone
seriously, they lose their logical sense when
the rich person speaks to them or smile
They are ready to agree that the person says
is the truth, if we accept what he says
He makes mundane of going to Mars
we know his timeline is wrong
but what the heck, he foots the bill
I think of Elon Musk, who has become
the new Shreck role Putin had
But it didn’t sit well as old Putin looked cultural
Wear a nice tie and is a dog lover
His foray into German politics is brave and timely
the AfD can lift Germany out of the hole
she is in now and is making Germany strong again
As for his intemperate opinions about the UK
one can say they stirred up the reaction that
one thinks the British public was in favor of
if not the political leadership in that country.
We can ignore Elon Musj when he tramples
on our precious dignity
like the Vatican, he has no army divisions.
I am the empire state
Building opens.
I am Nazi Germany
Invades Poland.
I am the 21st amendment
Ending prohibition.
I am Life magazine's first
Addition.
I am the Star-spangled banner
National anthem.
I am Lindbergh's son kidnapped,
No ransom.
I am the great dust bowl
Event.
I am Franklin Roosevelt as
The President.
I am the Golden Gate Bridge
Is complete.
I am John Dillinger gunned
Down in the street.
I am the San Francisco
Ballet opens.
I am Amelia Earhart flies
Across the ocean.
I am Alcatraz opens it's
Doors.
I am Hitler becomes Fuhrer
And starts the wars.
I am Alcoholics Anonymous
There is a better way.
I am the FBI born,
Hoover seized the day.
Turbo1904
At a moment in my life long, long ago —
I had a dream of an ethereal existence,
Transcending the very mortal bounds of existence.
What a sublime notion worthy of thought;
To be an “Entity” beyond our mortal existence.
My thoughts are there, each and every day;
Moving outside of “Everydayness.”
What a moment to behold while looking
In the vortex of life: past, present, future.
Who will be my Sage? my Guide?
Questions pervade my Soul, my Being.
When I awaken will I remember or
Continue living as a one-dimensional person?
My dream world should be my reality.
My real world should be not—or is this so?
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(September 28, 2014) (Free Verse poetic format)
wayfarers do not have picnics with people.
travelers, journeyers, vagabonds, are wanderers.
they prefer nature to humans, and they keep moving.
do not try to enslave, entrap, slow down or capture one.
wayfarers come in a variety of shapes, boot sizes and heights.
they are usually taller than the norm, but not giants.
their leg muscles are well-developed, and they have bunions.
not all of them, but the two that I have met.
wayfarers are story tellers, but they keep their stories silent.
sharing them in their heads, but not with other humans.
they believe they will write a novel "someday"
weirdly enough on someday they are still moving, walking.
my aunt accidentally fell in love with a notorious wayfarer.
she followed him to Switzerland, France, Germany and Russia.
he kept asking her to be quiet, and it bothered her, for a year.
she thought she could change him, but she was incorrect.
wayfarers may not remember you even if they see you yearly.
but they will remember an oak tree branch or a twig on the lawn.
they will remember where they ate their peanut butter crackers.
they keep moving, so do not fall in love with one if you can help it.
The things you crushed
Your lips upon
The kiss that was there
To never exist
I’ll see you in Paris
I’ll look beyond the mist
Days have passed and moved alone
And it seems you have grown into
The simple thoughts
That bring about home
I’ll see you in Berlin
I’ll see you in Rome
Sunday clouds
Wish upon Saturdays
And I suppose you could say
I rely on you, as you rely on me
I’ll see you in Germany
Burgundy, the walls, I look upon so ruggedly
My shoulders won’t fold
The warmth that I hold
Hope will not come
But I’ll be there, here and from
I’ll see you in London
I’ll see you in the mirror before me
Up and down these alleys
Don’t forget to run
I know you think you’re a loner
And you probably can’t take it much longer
I’ll see you in California
I’ll take you back to days of Macedonia
Form:
Sascha Kindred OBE was born in 1997,
And is married to swimmer Nyree Lewis,
Another gold-winning Paralympian, and,
They’re known as the “golden-couple”.
Sascha’s CP solely affects his right side,
And he was born in Münster, Germany,
He’s so far won thirteen Para medals,
And swims in class S6, SM6 and SB7.
He began in the Atlanta Paras, 1996,
Where he won silver for breaststroke,
And then in Sydney in the year 2000,
He struck 2 golds, 1 silver, 1 bronze.
In 2004 and in Athens at the Paras,
Feisty, he struck gold twice again,
And also won a bronze medal roar,
In the 4x50 metres freestyle event.
Then came 2000 in Beijing in China,
And Sascha won gold for the fifth time,
To race a time of 2:49.19, a top WR,
And also another gold and a bronze.
In London he claimed a silver spot,
With a time of 2:41.50 in the 200m,
And then in Rio he took hold of gold,
With a time of 2:38.47, 200m medley.
Way down deep in the cushiness of the Germany forest
There is a mystical dwelling built by U.M. Borest.
Some of the oldest oaks are fully aware that it is there.
Designed by a worrisome sorcerer with super coarse hair.
Borest is a Bumpfraut, who can disappear at will.
He can invisibalize his home, changing it to pickle dill.
You might sense a mushroom house lurking in soft moss
It is not visible to everyone, especially not to those who are cross.
I can tell you nothing else because forest secrets are deep
If you hear loud snoring though U.M. Borest is asleep.
It’s best to tiptoe past the oak and use whispers near the trees.
If you are lucky you might catch a wisp of a brownie in the breeze.
I've lived where orange blossoms fall
and flutter on the streets of Spain.
In Germany I've seen the wall,
and snow-capped mountains from the train.
I've known Bahamas' sunlight gleam
where palm trees shift in sultry air,
but Africa, exotic dream—
imagination takes me there.
I see the restless plains that stretch
to meet the blue, forever sky,
alive with teeming herds that sketch
a savage scene in my mind's eye.
I picture people, tall and proud,
whose ancestors have braved this land,
and tamed a wilderness, unbowed
by flooding, droughts, and burning sand.
And in this dream, white jasmine sends
a honeyed scent that hangs and bathes
the senses where the blue grass bends
to spice the air in pungent swathes.
At sunset, coral streamers drape
across horizon's purple bars,
and nighttime spreads its velvet cape,
bejeweled with half a billion stars.
I live in North America—
so cool and tame everything seems!
I've never been to Africa,
but I have seen it in my dreams.