Long Good citizen Poems

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


NIGERIA AND BAD BELLY

Nigerian people let us embrace the truth,
Bad Belly is Bad Belly
It is Bad Belly when your Father beats his chest,
And declares that "he is the giant of Africa," 
But he cannot boast of ordinary twenty four hours of
Uninterrupted power or water supply; your citizens are dying
In droves from lung cancer because of generator fumes

Bad Belly is when you say "you are a giant,"
But your children are dying in droves due to massive insecurity, 
Investors are fleeing your country in droves;
Because the people who should protect them are underfunded, ill equipped and corruption breathes in every facet of our society

Bad Belly is when an Army officer gives you a dirty slap for being a good citizen, and a police officer who is standing by, says "esprit de corps to him and all correct sir," then orders you to turn the other cheek

It is Bad Belly  when your Father says "he is a giant," 
But millions of graduates who toiled and paid millions to obtain their degrees have become beggars in their own country 

It is Bad  Belly  when your yard is littered with gold, oil, 
And all kinds of unquantifiable mineral resources, 
But your citizens are dying in droves in an attempt to bail out of your country through the Mediterranean sea

It is Bad  Belly when a defender clears a goal bound shot
From the goal line  during extra time, and the coach labels him "a weak player" instead of a part on the shoulder; then turns around and invites a "basket" who greased his palms

Bad Belly is when you take your brand new car for an oil change which should cost no more than a few hundred Nairas, and the mechanic calls you and says a major overhaul of your car engine, carburetor, rack and pinion, odometer and shock absorbers, running into thousands of Nairas is needed

Bad Belly is when you are shedding tears of joy because
Life is good, but your neighbor who doesn't like seeing your ugly face says: "you are shedding crocodile tears."

Nigerians let us face the truth, : Bad Belly is BAD BELLY!


small talk

they chew each other’s names
like gristle,
spit stories into the air
that stink before they land.
every word a small knife
looking for a back.

gossip crawls on the floor,
licking old blood,
hungry for new.
they feed it faces,
they feed it mistakes,
they feed it anything that once tried
to live clean.

the noise
is blunt-force trauma—
no filter from the brain to the mouth,
just rot rolling downhill
into sound.

ears packed with cotton,
hearing nothing,
feeling everything.
the skull rings
like a cheap bell in a slaughterhouse.

they don’t speak—
they discharge.
sentences like misfires,
wild bullets ricocheting off
whoever’s closest.

you stand there
taking shrapnel politely,
nodding like a good citizen of hell,
until the pressure behind your eyes
starts to beg for a violent silence.

later, alone,
the room finally stops shouting.
your hands shake.
your drink tastes like survival.
and you understand:

the quiet isn’t peace—
it’s just the sound
of the knives being put away
for the night.

Message In a Bottle

My mind still thinking of what to write,
My pen is eager to compose a nice poem,
To the next generation of people on earth,
Who will continue a legacy of living a good life.

I remembered all the things people did at present,
Things that's what they really needed...a change,
I will put it in a bottle, open and read it my friend,
It’s for your own sake living in this new world.

“Please take care of our mother nature,
It will help you so much in the future,
Give love and be a blessing to others,
Maintain peace and harmony to all”.

“Be a good citizen and love your country,
Practice a habit of praying every day,
Don’t be a greedy and selfish person,
Share what you have, be kind, be generous”.

“Before I forget, be a responsible member of the family,
Spare time with them though you’re busy with your duty,
They will love you, proud of you and you will be a model to them,
I know it’s too much to ask but it’s for your own good my friend”.

“This is only a small favor in a piece of paper,
A simple poetry from a concerned writer,
But it can change the world for a better place to live,
Follow it and your good deeds will make the people saved".



December 10, 2012

Special Angel

Living a life for many years,
                                                  I overcome sadness with fears,
                                               Because somebody is always there,
                                                 Whom I called my “Special Angel”

                                                     Her love for me is forever,
                                                A good wife and a good mother,
                                             She is my strength and my adviser
                                                        I thank God for her.

                                                Doing my service to the people,
                                          Help them with a smile and be humble,
                                               My mission is to be an example,
                                     To be a good citizen yet stay a life so simple

                                                  Blessings are overflowing,
                                                Not with any material things,
                                                   But for family and friends,
                                              I considered them as God-send.

                                                 All my success and failures,
                                           My special angel always has a cure,
                                                Her heart is strong and pure,
                                  She’s a blessing to me by our Almighty Creator.

                 (A poem dedicated to one of the nominee for San Lorenzo Ruiz 2012)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Do It For the Doing's Sake

I pick up litter on the road.
What shines is often roadside trash.
I do it for the doing’s sake.   

What glitters most is always gold,
To us who keep a highway clean.
Most cans and broken glass attract
Our eye like daytime fireflies.
I do it for the doing’s sake.

Not punishment for drunkenness.
(Though something I’ve been guilty of).
Nor for some passer by to take
Me for some do-good citizen.
I’ll not be known when dead and gone:
No apples trees as legacy.
I do it for the doing’s sake.

No stealing of what’s thrown away,
No trespass on what’s public land,
No evidence of DNA 
Disturbed nor finger printed cans.
Just drive to give me wider birth.
Don’t honk or wave or two thumbs up.
Unless escaped from elder care,
Call no police to help me home.
I do it for the doing’s sake.


Ready To Help Anytime

Ask your heart, what you can do in life
Ask your eyes, why can't see others for help
Is it because you don't have money
Is there all with material things
Do body language to inspire others
You have your charisma to energize others
Wear your smile to warm their days
Tap the shoulder for those in silence
Say hello to those you meet 
Wave your hands to a friend
Send a greeting message thru text
Take a deep breath in the woods
Give alms to the poor at the street
Buy food at the corner to sustain business
Help the household chores and clean sorrounding
If you have excess money, help others to alleviate life
If you haven't anything, just stay good citizen
Always ready your hands, feet, talents and skills
To help others for emergency purposes and disasters alleviation.

Premium Member My Purpose In Life

It’s 4:00 A.M.
and my alarm clock rudely awakens me.

As I wash my face, I look in the mirror I ask,
    “Why do I do this? I don’t have to,
      and there are so many things I’d rather be doing.”
As I am leaving, I kiss my still sleeping wife on the forehead,
and I am reminded of the answer to my question…
I do this to give my family whatever in life they wish.

As dawn breaks,
I make my way across town in heavy traffic.

The news on the radio dulls the monotony of my commute,
     “…hot and dry today, the Yankees beat Boston 5 to 4,
       unemployment reaches a record high as more families face poverty.”
Hearing the news I am reminded of the things I was taught
when I was growing up; we must always do what we can, 
and help the less fortunate; that is part of being a good citizen.

At the office,
my day unfolds and it’s work as usual.

Suddenly my day is interrupted by the ringing of my phone,
     “This is Bob.  My wife has died unexpectedly,
      I need your help, your advice and support.”
Hearing this I recalled the hard times I’ve suffered in my life,
and the friends who were there by my side to give me support.
We must always be there to give strength when needed to those we love.

It’s 10:00 P.M.
As I wash my face and get ready for bed, I give thanks for my many blessings.



June 4, 2018

Premium Member Mask Can Wait

Wear a smile
Wears a mask
Mask for others
Mask for you
You want to be safe
You want to be good
Good citizen
Good neighbor
Neighbor of the world 
Neighbor who shelters in place
Place your bets
Place your marker
Marker marks moment
Marker climbs high
High risk
High wire
Wire the masses
Wire service dispute
Dispute a mask
Dispute the pandemic
Pandemic paranoia
Pandemic persecution
Persecution of one
Persecution of some
Some conform
Some rebel
Rebel as a nation
Rebel as a protestor
Protestor finds a way
Protestor knows his rights
Rights enforced by constitution
Rights upheld by law
Law feels less concrete now
Law easily broken
Broken country
Broken trust
Trust your instincts
Trust your heart
Heart led ideas
Heart led ideals
Ideals upheld
Ideals followed
Followed by spirit
Followed by truth
Truth felt keenly
Truth lying in wait
Wait for a sign
Wait for good times
Times
Sign…
Form: Blitz

Premium Member The Price of Mutilation

I once trusted our government
'til they left open a sack of wheat and chaff. 
Now it's up to the citizens to separate the mess. 
I once trusted our government
'til they sold our farmland to communists.
Soon we'll be dependent upon the reds
to feed us their poison crops until we're dead.

I once trusted our government
until they unleashed an invisible beast.
Killing millions of our fellow man.
Targeting the elderly whom they 
deemed a burden and unnecessary. 
They left the jails open, eliminated bail.
Much to the chagrin of hardworking citizens.
Now killers and their ilk run amok
The slaughter begins.
Our blood -fill their reservoirs 
runs their socialist machine.

I once trusted our government
until they opened up the cannons.
Profiting from the poor man's misery-
an ever-frequent gleaning of the planet.

Cameras and drones are everywhere.
Gathering information on the good citizen.
Slapping freedom against concrete hearts.
We the people are being conditioned to feel powerless.
To feel hopeless and sated with an impotent and meaningless vote.

WE THE PEOPLE took notice when you burned our God.
Mutilated our children-turned them against us
You've underestimated us. Forgotten that you work for us.
At first, we made a little noise with our tie-dye tambourine and sit-ins.
But you just laughed us off, your faces buried deep in the ego trough.

Now we'll unleash an invisible Freight Train 
with your powdered necks on our tracks.
We're coming at you hard and fast 
with a hurricane at our backs.

We're tracking down every misery devil
with our blood on their hands and feet.
Offering their blackened soullessness  
to a Black-hearted God who will never taste defeat.

Premium Member Two White Wines

Dinner with old friends:
salmon with red cabbage, asparagus, Caesar's salad, penne with
      broccoli, two white wines.
Jane Jacobs could analyze how it all got to our table
or even how their daughter came to us from Cambodia.
The economy or market bringing a thing of beauty, the farms, the trucks,
such comfort. The ancients knew this too
yet we are anxious about famine, genocide and nuclear war.
How can we organize (govern) ourselves to end self-imposed suffering?
That Quebec and Puerto Rico may secede peacefully at any time a
      majority chooses is a source of pride. Why not Kurds, Chechyns,
      Tibetans and Armenians?

Difficult to write a poem about it. At table, candlelight, we debate
or whine about the other side winning and making a mess
of our lives. The election could be stolen, tampering with voting
      machines,
what policy question does that possibility raise? War in Iraq,
school testing, prison population. Religion, the abyss surrounding the
little promontory life.

It'll all work out in the end. Go to your daily practice, be a good citizen.
Another failed effort to write what I mean. Such confusion, yet
two white wines.
Form: Verse

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