Long Industrialization Poems
Long Industrialization Poems. Below are the most popular long Industrialization by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Industrialization poems by poem length and keyword.
One country controls an another is colonization, This process of power leads to imperialism, Is it benefitting our mother nation?, Modern thinkers feel it as an act of barbarism.
Indians were nearly 200 years under the crown rule, Was it a period of massive economic stagnation? We can't catch fish in a confused pool, Once, in the world, Colonialism had become a fashion.
It is the cousin of the social evil, slavery, We have to mould our nation's destiny, It is the right time to show our bravery, And we have to follow our ancient ancestry.
Anglo-Indian is reflecting the history of colonization,
Social evils are stopped during British rule, Introduction of English education is its persuasion, Was the concept of coloniality is a rule or mis rule?.
Colonialism had given birth to the middle class obviously, Who became the pioneer of modern industrialization really, Colonial rule is a curse or boon to some countries surely,
It acted transparency like a transparent glass clearly.
Hark ya! Father’s day comes again
Growing years made my interest wane
My task is only to watch and see
What plans my children make for me
A “c’est délicieux” breakfast to begin
Followed by the family going for a spin
To a scenic place with gardens and trees
Cacophony of birds and humming bees
Feast the beauty of nature in all its glory
Reflect on the past that reveal the story
How the climate has changed for the worse
Aimless industrialization has been a curse
I retrospect sadly my days of yore
The nature we loved and taught to adore
The barren fields today and polluted air
Remind us of what we lost by failing to care
In the nursery of mind thoughts grow
Blossom into words which deeds bestow
Nature existed before earthly life began
Child had always been the father of man
When the stomach of a child
Who has overfed rumbles, it is not
In memory of the empty hands of the past
Or what the future holds in hand
It is to mock hunger by saying all is well for now!
All is not well for tomorrow’s grinding hunger
When the Ministers of chronic poverty
Are the symptomatic children of gluttony.
The politicos eat their fill of the national cake
Down to their kin, while the dry crumbs
Are earmarked for poverty alleviation.
Today, like yesterday immemorial
They formulate policies, sign MOUs
Host conferences, organize seminars
Then publish readymadecopypaste reforms
Before the press and assembly
On how to terminate the gene (ration) of poverty.
But then, await aids, charities
Foreign loans, Sani and Diezani’s loots
Which are then looted again.
Only for the political meme
To procreate poverty, a social gene.
All is not well
When inflation drowns and hunger mounts.
You who eat until your every anatomy become fibroid
And then you say all is well.
Have you ever heard or felt
The roar and bite of empty stomachs
Or the crackling ribs of raving hunger?
And have you felt the hopelessness of trying
To perceive the aroma of tomorrow’s break of fast?
We cannot live by charities
Palliatives and crude empowerment alone
But from every sustainable development
Infrastructures and industrialization.
Our palms cannot always be spread under the sun
Awaiting bronze coin and silver manna.
No more nagging stomachs, colourless eyes
And furrowed brows
No more the darkness distributed by PHC
No more the public wealth shared by NASS
And their fellows, the contractors
No more business monopoly, hoarding and inflation
No more the love for foreign lands and goods
To the detriment of the homeland
No more insecurity, hate speech and division
No more fraud, immorality, tribalism and mediocrity
No more laziness, vain speech and promises
No more the birth of the almajirai and abandoned projects
No more the suit, cassock and agbada ministers of poverty!
Ancient and modern is this heartbeat
of a kingdom of four territories;
becoming the first biter to the endocarp of industrialization;
the first host to a global carnival of sports;
running the eldest of all notable department stores
and oldest without aging is one of its publishing houses.
A historic accumulator of colonies
with a spoken identity well pumped into different parts of the world
which has married diplomacy, economy and finance
to give global relevance to anyone who acquires it.
Even with this huge dominance,
Its initial lingua franca was
an adoption from its southern neighbor.
From Winchester to London, the route of its history is endless
Wwth the Lincoln cathedral the first overtaker
of the great pyramid of Gaza in an increasing participating race
and the first caster of the globe’s lifeless identity in Aluminium.
It’s a relentless consumer of Tea
having agents of law enforcement surprisingly not needing weapons
only but in situations of an adrenaline rush.
This defined region also has shoulders high above all others
in space and capacity showcased by Hay-on-Wye,
in dimensions and height, exhibited by Nature’s craft in Avebury,
in the size of a residence of royalty decorated in Windsor,
in numerical value of products traded in Harry ramsden
and a proud member of the starters’ club
in the creation of transportation mediums through rails.
The home of technology’s birth
and the courtyard where science is entertained
which is both less and greater than Thomas Harriot;
smiling when Christopher Merret and the Champagne
both got registered in history’s dairy.
The contribution of William Dockwra through stamps;
the excellence of Charles parsons shown in the stream turbine;
and the magic of Bletchley park
exhibited through the wonders of the colossus
are a fascinating fraction of a wing of its colourful feathers.
If these praises should spread online
The entire world of the internet has among others, Tim Berners to thank.
Regarding yours truly
he experienced setback
amplified by Luddite propensity
nostalgic longing for simpler age
bring back horse and buggy
better yet find me a mancave
and/or apprise me
ideally via email
Flintstone web page modality
allowing, enabling, and providing
excellent linkedin access
whereby augmented
and/or augmented reality
telecommunication simulation
delivers, exports, and ferries lame poetaster
to small town America
a place that time forgot and
the decades cannot improve
within which dwell
strong women, good-looking men
and above average children
Wobegon place name
preserving lifestyle
exhibiting voluntary simplicity
though aforementioned fictitious locale
fires up imagination as does
a place called Willoughby
flourishing along outer limits
of twilight zone
buzzfeeding outlier zee
crème de la crème confabulist
this side of Schwenksville
hankering towards... nebulous
body, mind and spirit synchronicity
courtesy sweat of mine brow equity
acquiring alliance, cognizance, existence,
guidance, intelligence...
think Dick Proenneke
alone in the wilderness survivalist
jack of all trades
I would live free,
yet nevertheless die
ill equipped to captcha victuals
and/or drink
to stave off hunger
and/or thirst respectively
one twenty first century beastie boy
heavily dependent upon
urbanization, mechanization,
industrialization, civilization
to savor creature comforts
climate controlled environment(s)
courtesy finite fossil fuel extraction
*****sapiens scourge upon planet Earth
me metaphorically on par
one more human parasite
zapping nonrenewable resources
thus desirous (yet helpless)
to forsake consumerist lifestyle
yet lack ways and means
to toil physically
to wrest good n plenti
juicy fruits of labor,
which initial premise
as iterated with poem title
dramatically off tangent, yes?
what to
do with
this word
what to
use it
for
for for
is the
word
stoke fire
blow bellows
heat til hotter
take with tongs
for it's almost
molten for to
be hammer plied
forty times speak
the anvil chimes
shaping perhaps
flattening exactly
not now known
at this time for
for can become
foreshadowing
but at this
beginning
it is being
forged for
what it's
worth but
dip it in
the water
bucket as it
steams to
become
solid
and become
the word
forage
all but the
Ulfberht
remains
so they can
wait while we
hunt and gather
once again
Form:
And ignoble prize trumpeting hubris awarded to...
Bourgeoisie donning ersatz
overstuffed ego freezer bewigged pate
"FAKE" grotesque humanitarian
bribed corrupt judges will vindicate
jimmied cracked corn
land of "milk and honey"
red hot button he spoils to activate
countdown to Armageddon
leaving nation prostrate,
all the more reason to axe electoral college,
now holds electorate
hostage to bully tactics grate
for dead souls – zombie thriller, viz
Putin on the ritz,
whereby Pavlov's dog will salivate
on cue and pony show will titillate,
and worse case scenario, a far more terrible fate
than death by a thousand cuts
equals his refusal not to abdicate
presidency, should voters
get smart to administrate
White House with progressive commander
in chief he/she will adjudicate
decency, honesty, integrity... and acclimate
government toward amity, comity, equality...
oh,... and most importantly advocate
salutary measures affecting biosphere,
where industrialization didst devastate
contaminate by bajillion beings birthrate,
every square inch of Earth
*****sapiens succeeded to abominate...,
prima facie global warming doth correlate,
hence primary requisite mandate
to reorient modus operandi no time to wait,
where carbon footprint negligible
still preserving technological paradigm
fixing low cussed electricity to generate
courtesy renewable resources
else man/womankind will become footnote
atrophied trappings agglomerate
twenty first century civilization
damned, inundated, ossified bridgegate
checkmated, choked, chucked... wag gone wheels
das spare - tread fully tires fuming primate
jammed fruits of loins going bananas
infuriating, exhausting accelerating
no exit (sorry Sartre) to circumnavigate
hardy lee any recourse to extricate
oneself from madding crowd
self resignation minimally doth alleviate,
whereby impatient broods frustrate
inaccessible jackknifed mobility,
thence spark ignites spontaneous eruption
impossible mission to plug
crowdsource mob frenzy translate
pent up fury once loosed doth degenerate
into atavistic pandemonium cutthroat rage
snarling human logjam foaming at mouth
poised to strike ready to decapitate
any remaining shred of salvation barren feeble
slow vac hoovering, milking, and sucking
every last vestige of bondage peoples extirpate.
if I could trace back
to that period
before it all started
some hundreds shameful years ago
when, under thatch great men
with courageous minds were made
Days,
when we aim neither
for fancy houses
nor folding bridges
true peace was what we preach
Then,
our egos yearn for more
we set to conquer civilization
our brethren we exchanged
for soap, gunpowder and tobacco
After we made them great
on their intelligence they heap praise
that their so-called industrialization
our labour they exploited
what they'll never mention
They fooled us
to believe that
we can catch up with them
invisible ladders they built
which we have to climb
to meet them on the top
Slowly,
we poisoned ourselves
with their westernization
embracing all those illogical concepts
shaky as a kid's first steps
Then,
came our realization
of how foolish
we had been
Gladly,
they left
knowing they will
always come back
for they know our minds
have embraced their every thoughts
Years passed,
radically they came back
this time with new faces
of remorse with impunity
to suck the marrow from those bones
Foolishly again
we allowed them
to confiscate our brains
this time not with chains or canes
but with thoughts of doubt
Now here we are
crippling and dripping
of sweats that would have been theirs
instead of mending holes in our thatches
we fought for their badges
But,
what if we learn to breathe under water?
what if our chiefs can lead better?
what if they need us morethan
we need them?
where are those ideas of Pan-Africanism?
where are those men
who fought with swords and words?
Let's bring back those days
..............BUT LAMENTATIONS.
Originally posted on: https://hfoday.wordpress.com/2022/04/25/this-isnt-poetry/
https://hfoday.wordpress.com/2022/04/25/this-isnt-poetry/
Creation;
Maturation;
Adaptation;
Proliferation;
Evolution;
Industrialization;
Automation;
Production;
Pollution;
Suffocation;
Destruction;
Obliteration;
Man's extinction;
Planet's salvation;
Life’s jubilation!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
What if I should dream
that investment shall keep
up its standard and reward?
what if I should dream
that business needs changes
perhaps, a revolution?
what if I should dream
that business though political
can be retained tomorrow?
what if I should dream
that something is ready
to be turned, perhaps to a fine flavour or zest?
what if I should dream
that nature seemed to have had
an anniversary perhaps, concerning love?
what if I should dream
that there is a tendency to place
goals and fix them?
what if I should dream
that better late than never
this time a ground may have
others should follow them?.