Long Hitherto Poems

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


Cursed African

21st January 2013 at the US capitol
Was the day men saw their idol.
He stood, brisk and spry,
And his order, no man could defy.
Africans and Caucasians stood in awe
For Obama was indeed a man of all.

Across the Atlantic in Tripoli,
Was Africa's father, who in harmony
Had advanced the "African Project"
Sharing his oil and sponsoring the sect,
Removing borders and uniting lands
Preaching "The African news" with open hands.

"Take my hand and shake
And let's together let's stand and not fake,
For as Sons of mother Africa
It's our duty to groom and uphold Africa".
Such was the Message from Tripoli's keeper
To the majestic Capitol owner.

The reply was his shunning back
Encased in a message and tag
"Let sons wed their fellow men
And let women do same like men
For such is what I stand for
A new freedom, unlike before
And be rest assured we sing not the same song
Here, you aren't wanted and do not belong.
And with the bullet for you I come
For we would never be buddy and chum."

The bullet came and Gadhafi slept
And with him, Africa sank and wept

Hitherto, Africa sleeps, caked in mud
Strangled by a man who carries her blood
                 © Temajung Michael T.


Signs of the Time

Hitherto a sleepy way-lost village,
Shall now enter history’s fresh new sheet,
Vain may turn lessons of its farm college,
That would wonder how men should the greens treat.   

Poor greens to greed shall now the tithe pay,
Life alive to dead graveyard shall yield ground,
Grey iron and concrete shall the earth pound, 
Pylons, pillars stand where trees smile today.

Old hillocks and heavenly shallow lakes
Shall get buried deep under greed’s duress,
Standing denuded shorn of born-with dress,
If progress all its priority takes.                                  

As far beyond as tired sight might endure,
We shall see trails of plied and potent wire
In hope birds would avoid this deadly mire,
The Null Lake may not retain her old lure. 

The village of refreshing lush green look
Shall soon wear an over-sized greyish coat
As an industrial township of some note,
O with a book-marked page in history book.

And yet, a village long frozen in time,
And orphaned now of its springtime dreams,
Her bounty of beauteous trees, it seems 
Oh shall pay price of progress to us prime.

Should man lose on growth highways on the run?
He knows of no ventures without a price,
There’s no virtue today without grey vice,
Let’s still one day hope to such crossroads turn.
______________________________________________________
Industrialisation and technological progress and its impact on the country-side form the theme of this poem. Yet, helpless, it displays an ambivalent attitude: All progress demands its price that alas has to be paid—yet, a village frozen in time… shall show signs of some future. The signs of time are clear, yet can we have progress that demands no such stiff price?
______________________________________________________
    Images | 12.10.08 |
Form: Narrative

Vermillion Sunrise At Kanyakumari

"A glance at the magical hues splashed into sky at dawn
Paints a picture of hope in my mind's blank canvas" ~ quote by poet


At the southernmost tip of The Peninsular India, 
where the three seas meet at the 'Triveni Sangamam', 
the blue waves hum in a surge of excitement, 
gurgling, tossing and tumbling, 
awaiting the most spectacular moment;

Anticipating the arrival of her Prince of Charm, 
the somber sky yearns for his first touch at dawn;

The mighty golden white ball ascends slowly
with his steps steady and gentle - and sees
his beloved - ravishing - and blushing  in vermillion hues
immersed in waves of euphoria
as the rising sun's first ray kindles her gloomy spirit;
with a special glow in her face hitherto not seen, 
the sky welcomes her beloved with a vermillion smile;

Cherished by the warmth of the sun's magical glow, 
the dreamy sky displays hues of hope;
In a rhythmic ballad, the waves of the three seas
sing in chorus, their tale of love.

Note:
Triveni Sangamam - A beach at the southern tip  of India in Kanyakumari, where one can witness the sangamam (meeting)  of the three seas: The Bay of Bengal, The Arabian Sea, and The Indian Ocean. The sunrise at the Triveni Sangamam in Kanyakumari is a spectacular sight. 


Date: 11/18/2021
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 23 Poetry Contest

"V" New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France

Be Brave, Be You

Why does this light inside scare me?
I'll lock it down tight in the hopes to spare me
the separation.
I want to live from a higher vibration,
revelation and wonder,
but fear of isolation drags me under,
steals my thunder and dims the glow.
All this creation and nothing to show.
All those notes played just for the wind,
those shapes that stayed locked in my mind,
those words stuck between pages on bookshelves in sheds
or lost between faces so stuck in my head,
good as dead and going nowhere.
There's magic when you learn how to share,
when you don't care,
lay yourself bare and trust.
Tear down your walls and scream if you must
but scream it true
from the depths of what it means to be you,
step out from the queue and show it.
They can't do what you do and they know it
and they'll stop for a moment without even knowing
why they're touched so much by this love that you're showing.
Growing by giving, living by sharing,
loving by trusting and not caring
what the others may say.
Thoughts of this fade away when you just play
unafraid and unaware
of some deep recognition in their stare
of this shape, hitherto unseen
of a heart now open,
a dream within a dream.
© Even Flow  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Stoop To Conquer

Limited is lower mind’s cognition
Yet it chooses not to, with heart confer
Pitiful’s become, our soul’s condition
Ego’s ignorance, casts on love a slur
Navigating life, like an amateur 
When head melds with heart, erect is our stance
Surrendering, in childlike trust demure
God’s grace in-pours, when ends our resistance 

God alone is, is our recognition 
For in deep stillness, we feel bliss beats purr
God search has now become, our sole mission
No longer can we, our soul’s goal deter
Body is ageing, yet clear truth’s a blur 
The time’s now, to alter our circumstance 
Self-anointing in our heart, gift of myrrh
God’s grace in-pours, when ends our resistance 

Love in love with love, grants us permission 
Our life’s ride is smooth, if God’s our chauffeur
Renewing in our heart, bliss ignition
Hitherto dormant nodes, begin to stir
From root to crown, all our chakras too whirr 
Our reflex response is staid acceptance
Enabling thus, smooth energy transfer
God’s grace in-pours, when ends our resistance 

Blessings flow, as God wills it to occur
Soul ascends thus, with divine assistance 
We dance with joy, seeing love and light spur
God’s grace in-pours, when ends our resistance 

16-July-2022
Form: Ballade


Premium Member Reveal

“Truth simple, if we but rest turbid mind
Leaving all deluded knowing behind” 
~ quote by poet 
_____________________________

Reveal and conceal, is the game divine 
Pangs of separation and rapture of union
Life becomes simple when with love we align 

Once head melds with heart, we feel an ignition 
An explosion of ineffable bliss reverberates within
Magnetic currents unending renew without cessation

We feel the thunder ineffable within as also on our skin
Soul’s light hitherto concealed, now clearly revealed 
Sound of one hand clapping then thus does begin

Shorn of erst ferality, our mind-body is healed
We are transfixed by bliss beyond measure
We be to become the magnetic force field

As the false falls away, there is no fissure
Essence of presence delights in each surprise 
God’s light suffuses our form, that we so treasure

Nonjudgmental eye ceases to discriminate or apprise 
In timeless time esoteric wisdom shines in clear light
Soul celebrates each breath as bliss currents rise

Our spiritual heart throbs within, day and night
Dormant energy nodes, all dance in unison
Conscience discerning wrong from right

Meditation as our ever present orientation 
Eternal now becomes a seamless continuum 
Anchored not in stagnation, heart beats in elation

As a vibrant living bliss mist, devoid of ego residuum
We remain thus in heaven, at the joy sensorium 

06-October-2021

December 22nd 1996 First Part

never could this baby boomer papa – 
   lviii orbitz round mister sun as I write while wife 
at present (takes her siesta) imagine 
   dragons, killer Queen Latifah countless ways, 

   thee first of deux daughters 
   would in vite learning how to comprehend 
   unfamiliar infant siren ear splitting strife
and mandatory pronto reception, 
   unwittingly ineluctably altering my life 

prior to parturition of our eldest heiress, 
   ah wanna let
chew in on a bit about mess elf 
   before becoming a papa 
   no emotional, financial, 
   nor physical obligation dim manned did
 
   obliged, nor required this bard **** to in debt
any of his waking and sleeping second, 
   minute, quotidian hour, 
   et cetera on behalf of another person Yukon bet

char sweet bippy, that despite initial onset 
   of anticipatory anxiety (no pet
tee personal issue; burping baby, 
   diapering, swaddling, et cetera fermi person 

   easily got shucked off), hitherto 
   didst any phenomena until then 
   force displacement of personal habits 
   to become secondary, and obviously, 

   seriously visibly up set 
status quo, where embedded fixations 
   housed within this scribe 
   required reassignment of tasks 
   until salient event forced him to vet
any less important issues 

   to an unspecified future 
   date and/or time, which role  
   i.e. forsook luxury sans, 
   affordable focus on me, 
   and immediately didst force crash course 
   to keep figurative whet
   stone sharp every waking 
   and sleeping moment of me life, yet....

though a crash course imposed  role 
   viz immediate adjustment of mister mom
(which obviously necessitated significant sacrifice 
   upon the head of this major Tom)

never before until that juncture 
   such selfless experience ever met, 
but in retrospect salutary outcome 
   found thoughts linkedin whereby
   time never divided, partitioned, 
   or sectored off to another livingsocial being

I never took care of an infant, 
   when her crying heard
   yet, the birth of E_ L_ H_ incurred
   (born at Bryn Mawr Hospital),

the eagle has landed

The eagle has landed

A very electric man who has vast riches 
has hitherto behaved as your next-door neighbor 
he might think he is that neighbor 
He is not
An eagle sits on top of a tree, on branches further
down lesser birds that fly in formation
the eagle flies alone and harbors a loathing for
ducks and gees
He knows argumentative crows can be bothersome
he leaves a trail open for them, a path 
that he can pretend to join when a hunt is not 
disturbing the eagle's instinct 
This is, if we  like it or not, the way the nature
someone is doomed to be the leader
to keep the rabbits in check, les they should demand equity
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

BRO BEBETO'S BET

BROS BEBETO'S BET
 
Betting can tie you down like a sitting belt.
And I can bet Betty's boyfriend's bet
Mirrors how most of you beters felt.
Betty's boyfriend bets, but the ticket bursts.
"I'm getting this money o," he'll always boost. 

Betty's boyfriend is known as bros Bebeto
But now, bros has learnt hitherto. 

Bet9ja, what have you done to this young man?
Bros Bebeto's bet on Bet9ja shattered a plan.
Now he's Stan despite being nobody's fan. 
Oga learn...learn ooooo and wise up.
Know when to proceed or press stop! 

Else, pressure will pile up on your head.
Meanwhile, Bros Bebeto's bestie said: 

"I trust myself, I for don cash out since, 
Even before the last 3/5 games, miss.
Now ticket don cut, betting no bi your equal, 
Greediness don comot your body, leave score,
With foolishness, dem go drink liquor.7" 

Betting is injecting yourself with high temperature,
Because you believe you're a rare creature. 

Betting is creating an environment of high tension
And using the urge to blur your life's vision. 
Why allow a slip ignites forlorn thoughts,
Accumulating fixtures or games of all sorts?
Anxiety of a bet slip will almost make you slum. 

After a long day awaiting a long slip's outcome,
The list is almost endless, but the slip
Brought bros Bebeto's bet down the deep.²?


VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes 
Copyright ©? 3rd December 2023.
Form: Rhyme

A Bolt From the Blue 2

Score's zip to zilch, last inning's near halfway through
at Gettysburg Commons' baseball league playoff.
Champion Graycoats at their posts hitherto -
Blue Jackets hear the pitcher's husky cough -

a clue to the catcher - this batter's toast.
Pickett lobs the pitch from high on his perch,
Meade smacks it past the church house roof almost -
a bolt from the Blue, Gray gets lost in the search

and Meade makes an easy trip 'round three bases.
Hancock is next and takes his turn with relief.
He whacks one to the pitcher of all places
running like blue blazes in disbelief.

He speeds to first base while Meade makes it on in.
Then Hancock circles the field - score is ought-two
As Pickett sits on the ball holding his shin.
In shock, he volleys a few words of blue.

The umpire approaches, a'raisin' his hands,
"I heard balderdash," he bawls with a frown.
"Game's called for cussin', but the score still stands."
Singing the blues, Graycoats hand over the crown.

New "toasts" of the town are Hancock and G. Meade.
They both talk a blue streak to boast of the coup.
Dazed by their disbelief, Graycoats recede.
And for weeks, Gen'ral Pickett's leg's - black and blue.

written 12 January  2015
Form: Rhyme

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