Long Intensified Poems
Long Intensified Poems. Below are the most popular long Intensified by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intensified poems by poem length and keyword.
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Goree Island
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: February/2014
I see the blood
of my ancestors
that swell
in the Atlantic ocean
on
Goree Island -
The unmerciful ill winds
that fell
over my people,
in Senegal,
on that
horrific night,
brought the European's,
across the Atlantic,
to our Village -
Everything
in the world
changed forever,
and
will never be forgotten,
when the "unthinkable"
cruel acts
of slavery,
cloaked my people
like
darkness in the night -
White men
dressed in British
formal attire,
brought with them,
bullwhip's, chains, machetes,
and rifles,
to capture us.....
to ENSLAVE us!
We were brutally beaten,
and
taken to
the House of Slaves,
on Goree Island -
The malice intent
of
the British,
intensified our
suffering
at the slave house,
as they
cuffed us to
the walls,
in neck, waist,
and
ankle chains -
Days would pass,
some of us died
from
diseases,
and
starvation,
while waiting
for
the slave ship
to come
from the Americas -
The hideous inhumane
acts
by the British,
sold us
as property,
as we were
auctioned off as
commodity,
to the Americas,
during
the Atlantic Slave Trade
The mournful ness
in our helpless eyes,
spoke of horrendous fear,
as a feeling of distraught,
distress,
and despair,
clothed us
like
death -
We are innocent people
that will never
see our families again
Our homeland again -
It's unfathomable,
to see black souls in chains,
taking those final usurious
steps towards the "Door Of No
Return,"
in the House Of Slaves,
which left its ugly mark,
on the whole global earth -
Once through
the Door Of No Return,
we were sold to the Americas,
and
faced a future of
severe beatings, burnings,
hangings, lynchings,
and
rape -
To this day,
ancient spirits
of
black people,
still scream in rage
on
Goree Island,
where an untold number
of us were
slaughtered,
and
branded
before walking
through the slave door,
of
an uncertain future -
The ominous clouds
of slavery,
will
forever cast
a dark shadow,
over the
House Of Slaves,
the Door Of No Return,
and the world -
Goree Island,
in the Atlantic Ocean,
will forever
cry tears of blood,
from the souls of
black people -
The most awaited result got publicized, but
Internet hadn't landed the soil of my country.
Televisions were tabled in few pocketed places,
Still they worked, minute and achromatic.
With huge audience circling, signal was word alien,
Viewers would holler in unison, "It's raining!"
I now understand the fluctuation of signal,
We'd leave the jammed hall. No rain outside!
Correspondences saw only lethargic typewriters,
That sounded a poll pecking of a woodpecker.
A single wireless station would be queued
With people waiting for, "Pom, pom, Tango, Charlie."
Communication gravely sought its transmission,
Three-band radio justified on its little way,
Only richer lots bought and owned pompously
And my country had a single frequency squeezed.
The announcement was radioed in a succinct brief-
"The result of 1997 ICSE examination is out."
Nothing more or less, of the India-based examination,
I jumped on my toes only to later feel crushed.
My kiths were dejected with my abortive result,
An unofficial hearsay, they caught hold onto
Their dejection pierced my heart, agonizingly.
I'd to visit my alma mater, result matted least.
A two-day-long journey, not by a luxurious car
But on the hood of a truck on a bumpy roads,
Only the Indian highway would ease the journey
Like relieving the physical pangs of exhaustion.
The mental turmoil intensified as I neared
My school where the sheets would be displayed,
The wall would announce to a hundred lot of us,
The failure provoked sleepless nights and journeys.
My heart thudded as I entered the school premise,
Lips dried, even a pool of water wouldn't wet them.
Shivering, perplexity and numbness, crippled me,
I just wanted me alone to declare the performance.
I walked up the staircase with thundering emotion,
The entrance seemed gloomily unwelcoming,
Saw I a crowd of my mates craning and giraffing,
On the either sides of the entrance, sheets full.
No greetings, no handshaking, I just shied away,
Waited for the crowd to go thinly populated.
Just in one particular column to refer, wanted I,
PCA or PCNA - biggest summary of a year's toiling.
My comrades filed out slowly, forward I lunged,
Searching my name, throbbing took its tempo.
Spotted the name, from the wall, PCA grinned,
Pass Certificate Awarded, I became triumphant!
©?Khachab Dorji
Just say no and stop the liberal progressive socialist agenda dividing our country, or any other country! Simply based on the CRT (Critical Race Theory)!
It will further divide the divided states of America based upon race. Resulting in our categorizing and restricting any positive and healthful relationships based upon our skin colors. Turning us into enemies!
It will really pit the brown and the black people against the yellow and the white people! Leading up to and resulting in more racial based wars on the streets of our major and later on minor cities across the forty eight states of America just for starters!
It is the elected school board members that are fostering the CRT! Plus they are sponsoring X-rated books as part of the school curriculum's. Already parents in Virginia and the rest of the country are fighting against the CRT! Threatening to recall the school board members; who have sold out their souls to the devil himself!
The parents and their children throughout the United States are using their social media platforms in order to protect their K-12 aged school aged children!
They are relying upon Christian television stations such as the 700 hundred club to get their vital messages across to the rest of America! Whatever is happening in Virginia will not stop in the state of Virginia! Americans do not want a Socialist nation! They want their freedoms!
Unfortunately the Millennium generation of people born between 1980- 2000 are falling for the lies those liberal and progressive politicians are actively promoting. Also generation Z college age students have socialist instructors spoon feeding their socialistic ideology propaganda!
Where is the communist propaganda political machine located? It's central headquarters is based in the Red Chinese Communists party! Which seeks to place the entire world under the oppressive tyranny of the Bamboo Curtain! Global international enforced slavery labor camps making the Nazis look like choir boys because of their intensified cruelty and torture!
Let us face it America and the Western democracies! Red China wants to bankrupt you, black male you and kill you. And place all of you under its Bamboo Curtain! They are the common global enemies of the world!
Sincerely,
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954/209
Roxy 1954/ October Country
June 24, 2021
Hey,come 3rd quarter of each calender year, it is that time of the year again,
This phenomenon is headlined in local dailies each day, again and again...
An enviromental situation, all kinds of experts in general do agree...
A regular man-made consequence from widespread clearing and burning of trees..
All over the country, as in the whole Asian region, the sun is but a blur pall of crimson...
Evidence of the filtering effects of the haze particles in atmospheric conditions..
This pall of haze or jerebu is now a password upon which to start a conversation...
Something akin to the British How's The Weather way of striking up a conversation..
Make a comment about this hazy situation and you can be sure of an observation...
That something urgent needs to be quickly done to elevate this distressing condition...
Everyman in the street is aware of this thick smoky mist that envelope the environment...
People are advised to use face masks to reduce the intake of unhealthy irritants...
Even as the sale of face masks are flying off the shelves, what a situation...
People with breathing problems like asthma are to stay indoors, lessen outdoor exertions..
Scheduled flights has to be cancelled unless flying visibility index is acceptable...
Schools are ordered to close when the official haze index breach certain levels...
Cloud seeding efforts are in force to seed rainfall which will clear considerably the opaque sky..
Just so that such unhealthy and unfavourable conditions will not cloud future skies...
Government efforts are intensified to once again negotiate for cross border cooperation...
Time and again, all these actions are routine responses to mitigate the people's indignation...
For year to year, we the public , suffer all kinds of inconveniences and challenges..
When each calender year enters the 3rd quarter, we suffer again this haze in stages..
Hopes are high, maybe this year things will be different, things will be better...
Down come the promised rain and the situation clears, until the next year...
When once again we all go through the whole rigmorale of negotiations and deliberations...
Safety measures and advice for the masses, cloud seeding efforts and of course, fervent prayers...
Welcome to the haze situation here in Asia...!
She sees herself suddenly as a small girl
bare feet on the cold black and white tile
little toes curled
sees the white porcelain tub and
how pretty the light blue water was
so deep it almost came to her chin
as she climbed in
For hours she'd play with her dime store sailboat
loving it though it would hardly float
always taking on water
listing, never level
her wet skinny back hunched over
shoulder blades like primordial wings
every few minutes she'd have to shake the thing
Trying desperately not to break the spell
of pretend
and when
it was time to let the water out
she'd always stay to watch the water drain
weighing the emotional pain
both fascinated and horrified,
as the suction intensified,
by the force of the water
the unstoppable slaughter
waiting for the inevitable rotation
to begin
the dizzying spin
Slowly at first growing faster and faster
a miniature cyclonic water disaster
The dime store boat of course on its side
circling faster in the relentless tide
Then the drain would give a horrible belch
much satisfied with itself.
As she grew the tub got smaller
with shallower water
less and less room
for pretend to bloom.
Years later, dime store sailboat long forgotten,
life having been mostly rotten
working with the most cynical of cynics
ER nurses bitter that it's more like a clinic
runny noses and coughs that folks thought were urgent
working hard to save those who were truly emergent
Hearing from them the phrase: "circling the drain"
memories suddenly flooding the brain
almost able to feel herself as that young girl
watching the sailboat beginning to swirl
Feeling the blood drain, face going pale
she sees vividly the boat with its bright red sail
yellow hull and blue plastic deck
fine hairs rising on the back of her neck
She realizes now the fatigue of age
is from fighting the pull with defiant rage
The closer you get, the faster you spin
and soon the dark whirlpool draws you in
With a knowledge that seems to be purely primal
she now understands the downward spiral
And she knows that she will not put up a fight
she'd rather go silently in the dark of the night
And the dime store boat comes to rest on its side
so it's all come full circle at the end of the ride.
SADNESS
©Danielle White
"Thoughts of a Sexual Nature"
Vivid thoughts of you,
in your birthday suit.
Sprawled on my living room floor,
anxiously you wait
for what you came here for.
Long toned legs,
a rippled mid-section.
I want to hear you beg,
you caused this ********.
Incense burn!!
Sex on the Beach
heightens the mood.
I allude,
to a massage.
A mental mirage,
a dream.
Vivid thoughts accrue,
as I knead your birthday suit.
skin like a rare passion fruit,
and I'm working for your nectar.
You're my aperitif,
and I have a sweet tooth
for your vermouth.
_________________________________________________________
Strumming your neck,
my tongue is the pick.
Hearing you moan lightly, "Oh your so thick."
So eager was the lass,
for me to.... hose down her fire.
You see, the blaze I intensified.
I knew her desires.
Slow down I pleaded,
hasten your pace!
We have all night baby,
and first base is my face.
I had overdosed on her Vermouth.
She poured without a care!
Enveloped in lusts rapture,
it was, to soon to conclude.
Ambiance is important, so I'll set the mood.
Red lights, mirrored headboard
& playing softly in the background,
a love songs
interlude!!!
_________________________________________________________
Soft moist lips lick you're ear
whispering words of delight
pursuing my plight for your might,
my tongue rolls down your neck
peck on peck,
as my goal unfolds
kissing chest nipples
your dimples of gold
tanned bronze like a god,
excitement,
ecstasy
extension to explode,
the ride enhances as liftoff begins
tastier than sins,
searing flesh on flesh emotions
enmesh juices of love in thrombosis,
in oceanic osmosis,
as we fall...
spent ...
content ...
in orgasmic opulence.....
"This is a collaboration written by three different poets... Starting with Me...
Samuel Brooks has the middle section, and Linda Marie Bariana concludes...
This turned out well and I am sure all of you will agree..
Jared Pickett---Asavvy1
Samuel Brooks----ChocolateWoW-------------------------1/27/2010
Linda Marie Bariana------Sweetheart
Daddy left Mommy, when I was two
She really didn't know what to do
Four little children under the age of six
Was a situation, she just could not fix
Christmas was coming, she didn't have a dime
The bills were piling up at the same time
She tried to focus on her belief,
Lost the battle and applied for relief
A county program, for the very poor
Barely kept the collectors from our door
So sad she was, by her lack of funds,
She couldn't buy presents, for her little ones
With grandma watching us, she left to go out
She never came home, we were forgot about
I was too young to remember Christmas that year,
It was years, before the whole story, I'd hear
Grandma tried hard to make it right,
She took care of us until Mom returned, one night
Branded in my memory, the day of her return
After nine long months, I would later learn
Mom never mentioned the time she was away
She loved us to the fullest every single day
Twenty-four years quickly flew by
When I think of the day it happened, I cry
God took my mother on the ninth of December
Unexpected, a loss I'll always remember
Going through her belongings, we came across.
A small newspaper article, that intensified the loss
How we found it I will never know
This plea, with a picture, from so long ago
As I read the article, blurred by my tears
I was transported back, through the years
To a little girl on grandma's knee
Looking at a shabby, Christmas Tree
Crying for her mommy, who wasn't there
While grandma patted her silky hair
Grief, it hit me, no time to hesitate
When I saw the significance of the date
December ninth, the paper, said it all
Memory upon memory, I would recall
Two events, so many years apart
Yet, I could feel the child with a broken heart
Holiday Spirit, sad to say, I had none
Decorating that year without the usual fun
Mommies little tree, on a table it sat
Her homemade ornaments, and a tree mat
Going through the motions, I have to admit
All I wanted to do, was quit
Events don't shape us, they make us learn
Even grief, has its turn
Memories of a Christmas, thirty years past
Impressions, they fade, but still last
By Karla Null~Godsgift~
Your "Saddest" Christmas Ever Contest
Sponsored by Constance LaFrance~A Rambling Poet~
Here's a terrifying piece of news about every mother's nightmare...
Happened in broad daylight with numerous customers everywhere...
A mother, busy festive shopping in a local retail store, was distracted for a couple of minutes...
She had her eyes and hand on her sweet little girl of 6 for all but a couple of minutes..
She turned around, panic rising but her sweet darling was nowhere to be found..
Her frantic eyes scoured all over as she desperately searched the whole floor...
Acting fast, she informed the supervisor of the store, and a alarm was sounded...
Panic button was hit and there was a security lockdown immediately effected...
Exit points were secured and free movement among the customers was curtailed...
An immediate search operation kicked in while a loving mother wallowed in despair..
For some 10 minutes it was high suspense noticeably tangible in the air...
Patrons and management alike intensified search in rising desperation..
Until a scream of exultation pierced through the tumultuous situation and turmoil...
A moment of pin dropped silence hung suspended in the air as all involuntariy recoiled...
Then a frantic throng of people rushed in haste to the wash room area....
To witness the emergence of a security lady craddling a bedraggled little girl..
The little girl was a sight, her long hair was half cropped, she was dazed...
Gone was her dainty little dress, she was in a garish pair of pants, eyebrows shaved...
There was a few seconds of shocked silence, then the mother rushed forward..
A huge roar of approval erupted and claps of elation thundered in unison...
Loving parents, do take heed for this was no figment of my imagination....
It did happen and the local daily papers headlined this episode for attention...
All it takes is some 5 minutes for a predator to lead away an innocent child...
In their evil ways, predators have endless devious means to sneak away your child...
I hope this little prose of mine is pleasant enough reading but let it be clear...
The message within is a dire warning to all parents who hold their loved ones dear...
Please be forewarned for dangers abound in the wide world out here...
Please be forearmed in order you and your loved ones are in the clear...
The wormhole theory postulates that
A theoretical passage through fat
Space-time could create shortcuts for
Long journeys across the universe far
. ... But be wary: Like blackholes
These are wondersome wormholes
Wormholes bring with them
The dangers of sudden mayhem
Collapse, high radiation and
Dangerous contact with grand 1
The intriguing exotic matter
In all complete new manner
Space is the boundless three-dimensional
Extent in which objects move surreal
And events have relative position
Dashingly divulging direction.
In classical physics we have physical space
That is often conceived in threesome race
Of linear dimensions delightfully cool
Although modern physicists consider full 2
To be part of a boundless four-dimensional
Continuum known as spacetime real
The concept of space is considered
To be of fundamental important deed
To an understanding of the physical universe.
Disagreement still continues thus
As philosophers argue over and over
Since the age and our being wise ever
Whether it is itself an entity,
Or a conceptual framework –no reality 3
Debates concerning its nature and essence
The mode of the very great existence
Of space date back to antiquity;
Namely, to many a treatise and treaty
Many of the classical philosophical question
Were discussed in the Renaissance fashion
And then reformulated in the 17th century,
During the early development particularly
Of classical mechanics by Isaac Newton's view
Space was absolute—in the sense that is true 4
Exists permanently and independently I guess
Of whether there was any matter in the space
Awe inspiring will be the visibility of spatial depth
And of course a New Theory of Vision in breadth
As the metaphysician Immanuel Kant said
That the concepts of space and time are lead
The discovery of exoplanets
Has ever intensified interests
In the search for extraterrestrial life.
We humans are always in a hurry to strife 5
to all who know and love,
and who may not know at all,
i have told tales of adoring loss
and romance utterly grand-
building walls with broken sills,
falling apart at the seams to well,
not knowing which path to choose
but
brilliantly radiating verses that
weigh heavily upon hearts
so i go toward the light that found me;
bright and anew i am glowing in grace-
gifts of love and hope i bestow,
with gratitude i extend my heart
though the threshold to peace
has yet to be shown…
i know i have grown
i accept where i’ve been,
showering others with my
metaphorical muse-
embracing poetry without fear;
leaving behind friendly notions
so that i can become the
woman i've always longed to
be-
creative in my heart,
talented in my essence,
and
giving to those deserving
my utmost kindness-
i sing my lullaby today and fly away
farewell my beautiful being,
i am too far away to express what i feel
~for goodbyes are all too real~
some say i am becoming,
beautiful and unique-
melancholy in my technique,
loving to all who seek…
MY SOUL
few know my name,
even fewer embrace my quill-
but
one day i shall shine like the
stardust falling onto my barren feet
(the feet that once carried me home)
i shall no longer take the deceit,
nor allow Judas to defeat…
ME
i am strength intensified-
a push assumes its weakness
is part of my fate,
but
there’s no regret in the magic
I DID CREATE
for my time has given me
much pleasure-
i hand out thanksgivings to
all who were kind to…
ME
i may fly back once and awhile,
to embrace amazing tales told,
see companions of old-
write verses of hope and pain;
making my heart smile,
adoring each style-
but for now i must abstain
wish upon my star,
from afar,
and all will be revealed in time-
for nothing does compare to the
rhythm of my rhyme
farewell my beautiful being,
may you touch what i leave behind-
take my verses and wear my hope
that tomorrow shall be better for…
you
and
ME
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3.2.20