Long Homelands Poems
Long Homelands Poems. Below are the most popular long Homelands by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Homelands poems by poem length and keyword.
The Knight
There once was a man, bravery beyond all compare
Bound to a king and kingdom, to the people in despair
Past battles to honour his king and his homelands
Willingly to lay down his life for all the many clans
His armour chinked, remnants of battles long ago
His sword in its sheave, ready to defeat any foe
His trusty steed, a long friendship, has been earned
His honour never falters, ones greatness , be yearned
On a solemn night, the king seeks, his one true knight
“You my friend, my protector, my one true guiding light
“My kingdom cries out to me, do you hear her distain
You are her servant, and of all your knights that remain “
“There is this evil that threatens, means to kill and destroy
“These marauding clans, many lands, many hoards to deploy “
“We must stand now, raise our swords, show we stand tall”
He cries "Today we shall live or we die", for the good of all”
"We must ride out to meet these ungodly, unworthy hoard
Let our bravery, feel their defeat with our blood stain swords
Each of us knights, swore an allegiance to God and our king
Now is the time, fight for the honour and glory that shall bring"
Such a battle, never seen in many of years past
Fighting for the honour, for the kingdom to last
Each knight wields their sword, victory seems
The one true knight, hearing the death screams
He stands tall in the saddle, seeing all the bloodshed
His knights stand true, lost in a field of crimson red
When an errant spear, somehow finds it's one mark
He falls from his steed, blood flows it's reddish dark
Knights kneel at his side, seeing death approach their brother
All of his warriors, humbly pay homage to a general like no other
They raise and carry his body and his sword
To honour his bravery, for his king and his lord
A king strangely kneels before his fallen knight
As if he lost his only son, sorrow lost in twilight
He stands, looks upon his people and he cries
“This my truest knight, his life, what does it symbolize “
All the kingdom pay homage to their fallen son
Raise banners, tell tales, sing songs of the one
The one true saviour, to our hearts remain anew
To our brave heart, his soul shall remain true
Oh! We should all pray to our Heavenly Father,
In our own words and in our own ways. In
Order to have this particular Angel of Death.
Called appropriately the Coronavirus.
To pass over our states, regions,
And providences. By passing our own
Special and beloved homelands.
There have been many death angels,
And deadly virus of the past centuries.
But sooner or later they all past away.
This angel of death is part of the
Luke 21 prophecy about the
Pestilences plaguing the last days of
The church age. Also known as the
Age of grace. And the age of
Pentecost.
In the last days perilous times
Shall indeed come. Only to
be overcome by our Victorious
Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
He shed his precious blood
Cleansing us of all of our
Infirmities. Including the
Latest one springing forth
From its host nation of China.
As the original Death Angel passed
over the children of the nation of
Israel in the book of Exodus.
When they spread the blood
Of the original Passover Lamb
Of God on the door posts
Of their dwellings. The
Angel of Death passed over them.
Only the first born of the children
Of the Egyptians' both man and
Beast were slain.
Thus we need to pray this Angel of
Death. Will not only pass over us.
But cease and vanish into thin air.
We are living in the very last
Days of the age of grace.
Even so come quickly
Lord Jesus!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
March 13, 2020
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
I wake up, hearing chirps of birds at four O’ clock;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!
The earth and the heavens celebrate springtime-joy,
Timely changes in weather never my glee block;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
Newborn baby animals race around in cloy,
In ponds around, bullfrogs in chorus gaily croak;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!
Breeze, as though touch me not, feels me and fades in coy,
Within feelings, like salsa, to xylophones, rock;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
Seed drowsing, spring up and shoot up fresh green savoy,
Migratory birds to their homelands fly in flock;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though, a little boy...!
Sunshine! Shower! Wedding of foxes! Dogs convoy!
Ducks and geese and swans and swamps display their catwalk;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!
15 April 2022
Springtime Villanelle Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
Our ancestors shed their sweat
and blood fighting for liberty
So through the diversity of nations
We would not see destruction
nor weakness in our differences
But they fought,they gave their lives
so we could live to feel the calm beauty
the strength and harmony of freedom.
May we never lose that freedom
May we never trade it for Violence
Hate and Mediocrity.
Let not our anger,nor our voices
silence the unity of our homelands.
It is better to be us against the seven winds
than us against eachother
Because we are sons and daughters
of the same world.
We belong to the same mother.
We are sisters and brothers.
she carries the child on tired hips rested on chains ‘round her waist
wasted on freedom designed to serve a white man’s lustful desire
branded inferior as time repeats itself and the pain knows no end
a tattoo on her skin confirms her as chattel in self-righteous shackles
festering wounds of Apartheid resemble the foul stench of humanity
as her child suckles from an empty breast and cries out for more
they did not really abandon slavery merely gave it a different name
too sweet are the rewards of exploiting the world as we know it
division of labour and they enshrined her firmly as an illiterate pawn
her soul wrapped in skin and bones and her eyes like rusted steel
an empty gaze almost gave up on merits of justice from hollow eyes
camped in concentration of power domination she is raped daily
of her dignity while she ploughs on in fields of plenty and the dust
of history and yet she never gives up on struggle for emancipation
some got the vote in a rigged system with dice slicing the fortune
disembowled by wolves in capital’s fangs her innermost treasure
has become hope that succumbs to memories of her forebears
born into poverty and meant to stay there she rattles her manacles
in vain in defeat because leg irons and handcuffs are made from
diamonds and gold in the heartland of theft and misappropriation
when her child dies she carries another from the master’s loins
expendable and forgotten her tears are salty and polish the gyves
and just maybe might help to corrode bilboes and unholy bonds
because human emotions do not forget who triggered the hurt
outcast in a so called homelands or locations she requires a pass
to enter the kingdom of opulence in which she serves as a maid
but the young maiden has become old and dies cleaning their dirt
a stolen life is all that her daughters will remember with hatred
and when they rise they too will die by the greed of their captors
but one day the tables will turn and revolve in anger and retribution
20th August 2020
‘Apartheid’ in South Africa was the system of racial discrimination
Workers needed a ‘passbook’ to enter rich suburbs for work
‘Homelands’ were the allocated regions where black people would live
Their abodes where called ‘locations’ to sweeten the tongue of evil
Open Up Your Eyes
By Franklin Price
9/23/2015
Open up your eyes and see
the World in its stupidity.
On TV watching ones afar;
misplaced ones to doors ajar
Thousands fleeing, disrupting all,
from native lands about to fall
To some new place to find respect
without much thought how to connect.
Where will they go? Who will accept?
Their treatment what? At most inept.
What will they do? Where will they work?
Once they have fled some tyrant jerk.
Should they have stayed and fought the fight?
Should they return against the might?
Should the able help? What's right is right.
Should they fall into abysmal night?
Refugees from everywhere
fleeing places without care.
From rulers all, without a clue;
next thing you know they could be you
The United States, I must confess,
In many ways have caused this mess
Have pushed our ways most everywhere
Interfered much more than should have dared
We citizens stood by to view
As politicians stirred the stew
Pushed by the rich; the selfish few.
That's no surprise. It's nothing new
Now we are here. What can we do?
Now that we, through choice, have stirred the stew.
Must take care, the choices made
Through strength must act; not be afraid.
With allies act to stop the flow
Give the misplaced their homes to go
Make homelands safe for them to be
Or the refugees are you and me.
Lightening
Far in the distance,
there is place,
I long to go.
A place I want to be.
It is nothing like it is here,
there.
How is it different?
How can anything be…
more or less,
except through expectation.
I gather up all that I love,
to give all that I will ever be..
to you.
I want to make sure you know…
that you understand,
there has always been a reason,
for every tomorrow,
and I do not regret yesterday.
Bear with me now,
know that the time is close,
and you will have to choose;
to leap across the divide…
or even further.
The waters below,
rocks and tides to carry you, me, we, us…
to places far from our homelands.
Instead, fly…
give all that you have,
more than you know…
and dreams will be
exactly what they are supposed to be,
when written down
and recorded…
in history.
Prayers for you and your families in these hard times.
In our Lord Jesus name... Amen.
Home from the War
Here’s a little friendly greeting
To welcome you back home,
You serve your country admirably
Far and wide you roam.
The folks back home they love you
It’s for those you go to fight,
By being shipped to foreign lands
To help put their wrongs to right.
The act of war’s horrific
Many lives, they have been lost,
You wonder if it’s worth it all
When there’s so much human cost,
But now the war is over
And the fighting’s all but done,
Your friends and family miss you loads
It’s time to come on home.
A change of scene is what you need
The battleground, no more,
For nowhere else on earth compares
To your homelands welcome shore.
homelands / husbands / playing house / strands
& strings of horses behind strangers lounging
un-belonging to Thebes of Sevens or women,
depending on how you slice matters, as a perspective
as a twisted bark of favors
sneaky is a wooden gift donkey at a garden gate
overbitten hinge with ten front teeth, grinning
hidden from you looking into it, questioning
its motivated patience rolling up in wait—
weighted with sweat-salted men huffing
inside an oaken belly chewing tight lips, they be-lying
trojan claims of apple cake philanthropy, a ready hoof
as a broken wood tooth busted off in breaching trollop
secretly hiding a picked body of men
beckoning their silent armies to bolster a side
there lies in its midst a flatulence of language
no fox lays a stake on the hole—
protecting its skulk in prevention of domestication's leash
as all before have done, better a murder
of crows than shifting troops proving
stud horses hiding should be stabilized
as leashing foxes having lost the lead
chasing a venery— manufactured hare meant for horse
plot-plottering hooves against his own wood
stoking a smoke-show inside a swollen belly
raking at the gates to get out of the agreement
of being,
for being part of the picked body, scrutinized
for pulling short to remain quiet at the dying chaos
of the rattling sounds from a losing side
Let us sit and talk about all the injustices of the world
And how it affects us, and every young boy and girl.
We have created a world of insecurities and doubts.
Is this what life is all about?
The education is failing them, but not so much from the school
But because we have changed all the rules.
We have created an “I don’t give a damn “attitude
For all the young to see, this includes wars, slavery, and poverty.
How can they grow? When they’re surrounded by all of this!
Isn’t there something that we missed?
Is it the fact that we are supposed to set the example?
Of what is right and wrong, and make this world for them
“Just “and “strong “.
People have left their homelands to come here for a better life
Now they have to think twice!
We are creating the same things they tried to escape from!
What has this country become?
Government buildings are shutting down
And on the “Obama care “republicans frown.
The only solution that I can see is have the children run the countries.
Most children don’t know about bigotry and hate
Let’s keep their minds fresh before it’s too late.
They must not be exposed to the evils of the land
And shown the brotherhood of love that they understand.
Children will bicker and argue like all of us do
But they don’t hold a grudge and follow thru.
They may not know about finances and the bottom line
But they’ll learn it, given time.
They do know how to BARTER and it is
So much easier and not that much harder.
They say: I have a yo-yo and you have a top
Let’s exchange it and call it “even Stevens “or
“I HAVE A BALL AND YOU HAVE A BAT “
Let’s go to the park and play.
HOW ABOUT THAT!
They may have the answers to the problems that we seek
Cause as we get older, our minds get weak
We just see things in black and white, while they
See things that they know are right.