Long Industry Poems
Long Industry Poems. Below are the most popular long Industry by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Industry poems by poem length and keyword.
all those town meeting's
where they scream and they yell
it's a perfectly good reaction
from an industry about to fail
this babalon they've built
has stood for so long
it's way too late
for them to notice
something's gone wrong
they built an evil empire
to feed their selfish desires
taking peoples money
just like they were dummies
keep it nice and legal
was their claim to fame
but playing with peoples futures
is'nt just a game
they shafted a lot of nobodies
and didn't think they'd pay
but the account has added up
and wicked will be the day
they ask the guilt sick exectutive
"How did you get so high?"
he said "I saved a lot of money
and I took a lot of lives. "
so many were the casualties
in the financial war
someone had to stand up
and ask the world "What for?"
and now they want to fight
to keep it all the same
i say "To hell with that.
Let's get on with change."
The world of business
is riddled with traps
I tried to start
an intenent business
So good were their words
we make money
when you make money
the promise of lies
Internet scams
poor people trying
to make at the expense
of someone else
of course, it was a scam
Financially I am not
the one to follow
but with a world
Real financial experts
surely we could find
people to trust
people that can invest
and grow companies
people that can
make a profit
and payout dividends from shares
people that can help build economies
saving ten dollars per week
you are looking at an investment
of five hundred and twenty dollars per year
If you had invested in micro soft
how year after year how much
would you be worth
could you invest more
It'd your life
you can do whatever you want
you can save a hundred dollars per week
it's your money
granted with every investment
there is a risk
you can lose your money
people do lie cheap and steal
but investments create jobs
investments stimulate economies
half the problem we have today
was caused by greed
People wanting to make money
from selling houses
lowered interest rates
sold houses to people
that couldn't afford them
put up interest rates
made the homeowners
take out insurance
So if they failed to pay
they made money
from the insurance company
an insurance company collapsed
because they couldn't afford the debt
like a deck of dominoes
the whole system started to struggle
one country after another
started having financial problems
markets dried up as economies failed
we didn't end up, in a depression
because we had things like social welfare
Our ancestors had created
but we are all apart of the same world
healthy economies in other country's
buy the products from your country's
The world needs to look at the balance
between the needs of all economies
When Mahatma Gandhi improve the textile
trade-in India it devastated
The textile trade in other countries
I'm not the expert but if we build
industry in India
I believe that is what great man achieved
Industry, that India requires
to create employment for India
Industry, that we all need to have
healthy economies
We need to do it in a way
that creates balance,
improving the economies of all
countries
The supposedly ideal woman's measurements
Used to be 36-32-36
That's no longer reality which the fashion industry
It's finally starting to acknowledge
We're seeing ads with slightly heavier models
Because a recent study showed
That 63% of North Americans are overweight
I'm definitely within that majority
Although I'm doing something about it
Have been riding my exercise bike
For 20 minutes every day for the past 2 years
One of my meals, either lunch or dinner is a salad
However as we age, the difficulty of losing weight
Becomes much more difficult to achieve
For a lot of us, the famous yo-yo dieting comes into play
Without strong perseverance, one must be dedicated
But it also must be a whole new life style change
And must include a steady exercise routine
It doesn't have to resemble an Olympic training program
As long as you're active in some manner or other
And of course, eating properly
No one ever said dieting would be easy
But the benefits far outweigh the dedicated effort
So get with the program people... it's all up to you!
Began during wee hours
of December first
tooth house sand nineteen
steeply self immersed
within insomnia, hence
sudden creative cloud burst
fingers slower than
fleeting thoughts, I cursed
nonetheless stitched,
doctored and nursed
the following continued
hours later with pursed
lips seriously, silently, and soundly
trying to craft lame poem, the worst
among feeble efforts,
among countless attempts
showcasing, (no rhyme nor reason)
yours truly versed.
Found muss elf unable to easily doze
haint no lamentable hallucination
found me froze
imagination begets, births and
breeds nightmare, whereby
humongous cannibal grows
name of Hannibal finally
an end to existential woes,
cuz every academic endeavor
yielded nothing but zeros.
Loathe blatantly outright
to turn toward life of crime,
yet I realize benefits
such as flextime
plus one functions
as independent consultant
off hours studying sign
language to pantomime
in the event victim
of unfortunate circumstances
deaf mute, or simply to
enhance gig being sublime.
Quite aware impossible
mission to succeed,
in the capacity writer,
hence quick income accrued
cash on demand guaranteed
apprenticeship provided with
on the job training indeed
course donned incognito
trumpeting, essentially greed
aware potential billionaires
minted he/she doth only need
venture capitalist to recognize
lucrative opportunity keyed
nsync with song that tops
the charts invariably lead
singer plus natural born
prodigy polymath, prolifically breed
ding all Forbes thirty under thirty
helping to buzzfeed
one after another cottage industry
flourishing analogous
to hardy ganja weed
allowing, enabling, and
providing ample time to read...
tea leaves predicting prodigious fortunes.
Well, well"aint seen nothin like me"?
No one is shocked a person of darker pigment can pass a football or do anything they set out to dream with heart in hard work. I think you better stick with a spork, instead of hotknifing that herb, rubbing that lambp of piper sheeptoslaughter jerk.
Catch more bees with honey, plus you can use that plastic spoon to dig your way out of the backstabbery,
but Hollywood Idols love their trophys
especially silver spooned ones, Campbell's Chunky for coddled athletes, who got nothin else to do
but compete for biggest cat in a cradle,
Golden icons on the silver screen.
"bet they never considered me"???
Is there anybody else? I ask you, seriously?
Now I'm with you at the oscars those old Satanic, "Elites" only give awards
Like diplomas in the schools of mystery it apparently seems,
as Necromancers of the record industry getalongs and benedict prostitutes, keeping an ear to the breeze,
you don't want to be in that number,
the Saints ain't no kind of football team. The game is on, we need team leaders, not divides of conquering.
It's better to have a little humility, better to have your soul than to have to whole world at your feet in servitude, for athletic ability?
I don't want some black child to feel left out, underdeveloped, overlooked, that's my little brother, my little sister.......C!?
anyone can clearly see from watching Nickelodeon that people like Ms. Downs are underbooked, a stage of perceived demographic,
it happens like a fairy tale, till their claws tithe Capt. Hook.
Commodities we are, playing a part, innocense took,
trafficking, tracking pings, by Disney, by English Queens, blood exploited by achy hearts in the ritual bloodletting, usually on set, when the Mother goes missing.
I am going to be needing a new poet to replace me
I would like to live with the world for eternity
the next couple of decades I will be very interested in
hearing more from the future of poetry
can she get the best possible guidance
are you going to have a wobbly new writer
I have to leave a new version of me
or something like it, would be a great loss for our critics
the world of words, would be only a great memory
this is not the intended future of our cities
are you be willing to give out the skills, they are needing
and in the interests of the next few, that are under skilled
let us all plan for the future and encourage them with the highs
so that our great poetry industry will continue to survive
A glimpse in time
I wander your rugged roads
Ignited by a glowing future
Digging into my own mind
So that the surgeon might fix himself
Sullied in a swinging sorrow...
Born into your light at the start of the day
I then mire under the stars each night in a rueful decay
A zillion lives in a day
Fractured love is love after all...
The Garden Isle holds you closer than Oahu does
Less of the screams and shouts of industry
While ghostlike fortune shoots from my ears
My identity dispersing
And I stand aright on a beckoning beam...
Soldiers of madness don your fake noses
Rename your children
And run aground with me
Haunt the light that has no name
Leaves of morass
This is what drains
Not being able to hold dear to one rhythmic chord
Sensing escape I flee
I mean to fly
When instead the will sponges back into life
And I am a coward among cranberries
Mending the unlocked gate
Laughing for you
Where silence would be stronger
Just not as fun
The arrangement of our lives
Appear as boundless landscapes
Illuminating a glimpse of the now
Time untethered
For your remorseless surrender
To Babylon, we came...
To watch the rise of Tower
The Tower of Cain
A fortress of dark n eternal pain
Stretching to the vaults of heaven
to quite the RAGE of Man
to challenge the reign of divinity
into humanities Wasteland of Ages
a paradise of industry and history
a sable hand in a gilded land
once called EDEN...!
Men Came With Machines of Desire,
Roses of Fire…
gauntlets of Steel
a mechanical tyranny did the same…
That clinched Thorns of Eternity!
The bloody reigns of infinity
Tears fall on dreary sand For years...
A return to Eden
Where MEN claim...
A Utopia of IRON and Dusty Screams
A future of means and profit!
Yearning for opulent DREAMS…
Built engines on the backs of the damned
A nation of lost revenants
On horizons golden Zion’s seams
Blood of war mixing with lambs cream.
A Fortress of Praise in a Corrupt age
Babylons full of wrath, as towers blaze!
We find our hearts & minds a daze
And only in our God's holy Rage...
Can cleanse
&
Turn the Page!
My father was a farmer,
as was his father and grandfather.
At a very young age, I saw my future,
and it was not farming.
I stood there like a statue,
like a frozen water pipe on a January day; like an
icicle hanging from a rooftop on a non sunny day.
I looked at my present,
and saw nothing but cotton;
I looked at my past,
and saw nothing but cotton;
I looked at my future,
and saw opportunities but no cotton;
I saw open doors once closed, but no cotton;
I saw prosperity and success, but no cotton.
Oh, I saw a myriad of things, but no cotton did I see anywhere in my future.
It was then and there
that I said, "Goodbye" to my past.
To my present I said, "Not for long".
To my future I said, "Hello, I'll see you soon".
I knew way back then when I was just a boy,
THAT I WAS NOT A VICTIM LOCKED IN A CASTE;
that my past and present would in no way dictate my future.
I knew that clothing was made from cotton, but I had no interest
in the industry. There was just too much cotton in my history.
Many years later, someone introduced me to cotton candy. In my world,
before cotton candy, there was just cotton. At first, I was reluctant, never
imagining that cotton, in any form except clothing, could ever be sweet to me.
102121PS
Herons fragment the mist,
appear and disappear while remaining motionless.
The skiff rocks as a coal barge trundles past.
A dewy sky shivers.
Nowadays he just sits in a boat looking at Ohio.
This morning the sun reached the top of a willow
and got stuck.
He rowed toward the bank thinking to get under the tree,
filled an imaginary pipe full of tangy river smoke,
sucked on the wet air
as he watched the tree struggling with the sun.
For a while it was a tussle, then the willow shook itself
and the sun slipped away like an unmoored ketch.
At first, the sun just hovered like a blanched balloon
then it found a window above the mounded smother
and it rose up like a Choctaw bass
about to mouth a trill of small fry.
He was near to the shore now,
Ohio slanted down to meet him
cattails and reeds scratching the aluminum hull.
A couple of mallards jumped out of nowhere
and flew over his eyes. The clatter of wings
ruffled the chill bank where a dank light had sunk.
His mind followed them for some time
until they settled deep down
amid a wraith-wrapped Kentucky.
A heron slowly rowed the wind
stirring up the vaporous air, Patches of clarity
drifted across sky-high filtering puddles.
Ohio becomes a river town, the huddled houses
have scuttled their roofs upon soggy pathways.
The mossy hulks of an abandoned industry
wallow in a foggy backwash.
Castaway wharfs drip a spatter and smear,
a hand me down script of a yesteryear.
A small blue-collar marina,
beer cans roll on swaying pontoons,
a couple of dry docked rowboats
and canoes.
Truck tires thump harbor chains.
Someone is up early, someone else watches him
gut and clean a large flathead.
On the damp dock cats circle the bones and scales
creep through the miasma
their fur wet and glistening eyes flashing a liquid silver.
The catfish is naked and shorn of the river
a thing to be watched least it return to life
as something beyond the ken of cats and fishermen.
On the ramp he hitches up his straggling life
and drives away from a berth awash
with the haunted cries of Loons and Redtail’s.
Soon he will be back in the patched-up pockets of Ohio
where corn husks snag hoarfrost and rattle
in a fresh rinsing breeze.