Long Iron curtain Poems
Long Iron curtain Poems. Below are the most popular long Iron curtain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Iron curtain poems by poem length and keyword.
The tick of the clock drives me mad
The passage of time makes me sad
Sand trickling like blood through the hourglass
I grab the handle made of varnished brass
Tears blossom and parade from my eyes
Eerie echoes filling my ears with lies
Life was not supposed to be rife with strife
Yet deep into my flesh is buried a knife
My whole life I've just been a creep
Meek, perhaps, all I could do was meep
The clouds form a dull iron curtain
Separating me from Heaven I am certain
The rain falls upon my head
Like the tears I've longed to shed
Nothing matters and the hourglass shatters
And upon the concrete blood splatters
Sand seeps from my empty eye sockets
And vines erupt from my pockets
My hair falls out and wiggles into the ground
My mouth is open screaming but without sound
But there is a ringing throughout my head
A million voices uttering things I never said
And I burst sending sand flying everywhere
As people stop and begin to stare
The hourglass shards begin to reform
My blood has made the sand dark and warm
Perhaps I'm just a naughty nautical knave
Death is the thrashing traumatic wave
From which my soul could not be saved
And upon my tombstone it shall be engraved
The tick of the clock drove me mad
The passage of time made me sad
Everything inside me was broken
And in death I was finally outspoken
I was one of the best leading men in Hollywood.
Many people thought my acting was quite good!
As long as Jack L. Warner said it was so,
I would be acting in many a diverse scenario!
They would have me playing a gangster or tough guy.
My great acting caught many a theater goer's eye.
Movie fans loved me in my appearance in "Public Enemy",
when I smashed a grapefruit in a woman's face for all to see.
Those were the usual roles from the studio I would get.
However, in the forties, my best part would come yet.
I won the Oscar for portraying a real-life song and dance man.
who was known on Broadway as George M. Cohan.
After that, I received many an offer and demand
to play many lucrative parts! Life was surely grand!
In a fifties film I starred in that played in many places,
I was Lon Chaney in "A Man of a Thousand Faces"
My last starring role was as a man with the Coca-Cola company.
This was in Billy Wilder's film "One, Two, Three".
In this film, I got myself in plenty of hot water
where behind the Iron Curtain, I lost the boss's daughter.
That was the last film for me for quite some time,
until I appeared briefly in the picture "Ragtime".
Romanus country
Romania to us
Iron curtain frontier
Dismantled by fuss
Like us all invaded
But by Goths and the Huns
Typical past history
Populations on the run
The Ottoman Empire, absorbed their souls
A free Romania the ultimate goal
Modern Romania has had its fears
The first world war
In neutrality gear
But by 1916, they released their fear
Allies they joined
As they sung the same song
Austria-Hungary they fought
To get rid of the wrong
In the second world war
Under Stalinist pressure
To remain neutral
Avenues of different measures
The Axis they joined
Once again with the Hun
With Italy and Japan
Their armies over run
Second world war over, but left with a horrific scar
Another country that went to far
Their part in the holókauston
A non defend-able time
The Antonescu regime
Crossed the line
Antonescu's approval for the removal of Jews
To concentration camps, quite horrific news
Eichmann and Richter, confirm the above
Jewish families on their final shove
The most recent chapter, in this ancient place
Nicolae Ceausescu, the people he would face
With the recent demise of the Berlin wall
This dictator so horrid, would also fall
A two hour trial on television
Would see him sentenced to his execution
Taken outside, him and his wife
For treason and genocide, they were shot on sight
Romania to date
A democracy
No longer Iron Curtain
A country now free
" In dedication to the Romanian Poets on Poetry Soup "
The west went in guns blazing to help their fellow man
In Syria against the Islamic State and in Iraq and Afghanistan
They brought an end to a campaign of terror and a killing spree
And made the world a better place and safe for everybody.
So why in God's name is the civilised world, just standing by?
While thousands of innocent men, women and children die
What is it about Russia, that murdering terrorist state?
Are we just going to look away, leaving them to their fate?
Ukraine is running out of fresh water, they have no electricity
While the Russians carry on firing missiles, indiscriminately
And committing atrocities that would make a grown man cry
A harsh winter is fast approaching and many people will die.
Why are NATO and the civilised west worried about escalation?
While Russia carries on pulverising that peace loving nation
Enough is enough, NATO needs to put boots on the ground
And rain down hellfire on that Russian scum, round after round.
The west is sending arms and humanitarian aid to Ukraine
But dragged their feet when they requested a fighter plane
Vladimar Putin growls like a dog and the west backs away
We shouldn't listen to his rantings, he must be made to pay.
Ukraine got rid of all nuclear weapons with the fall of the iron curtain
I bet they wished that they hadn't given them up of that I am certain
Because the yellow backed Russian scum would never have invaded
And their threat to world peace would never have escalated.
Written 24th November 2022
I am the decade of nuclear
Reaction.
I am the Japanese surrender
Reads the caption.
I am the Iron Curtain speech
By Winston Churchill.
I am Congress passes
The G.I. Bill.
I am George Orwell's 1984
Book.
I am the microwave oven,
A quick cook.
I am the Manhattan Project
Takes shape.
I am one of the first ones
To buy duct tape.
I am Hiroshima when we
Drop the bomb.
I am the slinky watch it
Move along.
I am the start of world war
Two.
I am, Pearl Harbor in
The Red, White, and Blue.
I am the Nazi's give up and
Surrender.
I am an American we will
Defend her.
TURBO1904
Cathode Rays in the Darkness
Thelma Todd is on the Late Late Show,
Brought to the us by Kent cigarettes, which refines and
Refreshes with the exclusive Micronite Filter.
Her still tragic life in the steaming suburbs knows no past.
It is a sucking monster to which there are no survivors.
The holy TV in this house prays with its face on the floor,
Screaming its way through backyards under the parallel clotheslines,
Illuminating with cathode rays, the fragile test patterns of existence.
Lloyd Thaxton is on at 4 o’clock before the news.
Dressed in a Van Huesen shirt with skinny black tie,
He sashayes under those hanging dangling long plays,
Like a finger person jittering across the sea with magic shoes,
Igniting the twisting dance floor with blue-eyed soul.
He is the coolest of the phony-star dance mavens,
Lip syncing with panache and moving lips through album slits.
He ghost-dances now Slauson style to the beat of the dancing dead.
Baxter Ward chews through the nightly harbingers at 6,
Brought to us by Marx Toys; Do you have them all?
He sits behind a square jet black table with head pointed south;
The Great Garloo warns us to beware the Industrial Military Complex,
The insidious Cold War chatterings of Nikita and Jimmy Dodd;
But Baxter Ward assures us he will be there when the Iron Curtain falls;
When Thelma Todd mysteriously dies again in her Lincoln Convertible,
When Lloyd Thaxton lip syncs one last time Unchained Melody in Vietnamese.
Invigorating rock and roll shakes the morning air
Bandsmen play Comanche, on the marble stairs
People that I used to know, tap their feet and smile
Iron curtain rusty folds melt down for a while
Can’t define now what it was, the end, or the beginning
Not a lot to comprehend left in underpinning
Reasons come and reasons go, morning sun goes high
To obscure in a glow of the springtime sky.
In late April, once it was, nobody remembers
How it came, and how it went, like the dying embers
I shall not return to dust, but I’ve no idea
If the others will, or must humbly disappear.
I’m a momentary blast of the past time air
And it happens now, until I’m no longer there.
After the quiet snow
comes the grinding grit
throwing blind shrapnel
at windshields.
Night drives wind-horses,
stampeding phantoms
that enter my glassy eyes,
then tug at the steering wheel
as I edgily negotiate
the corners of swerving shadows.
Once, the hind hoof of a doe
slapped at my startled face,
the Chevy twitched
and plowed on
as its lights raked the earth.
Through the rear mirror
I thought for a moment
I could see myself
prone on the asphalt.
The deer escaped,
but it had slashed holes in the sludge,
those tracks still drum and echo
under nights iron curtain.
I get it now... jackasses and elephants are the same
Getting off on control
Getting rich off prolonged misery.
Our collective pain is their superpower.
Our division is their weapon of choice
to maintain that superpower.
Do pray that the masses open their eyes.
Grow brave and wise -unite-ignite.
Become we the people again.
Pull back the iron curtain of OZ.
To expose the charade of self-righteous peacocks
And their plastic levers of logic.
Concocting diversions-shifting blame.
Making rules for the serfs but not for themselves.
The biggest fear of the elitist
is that we, the people, will stand together
demand term limits.
Prune special interests.
They fear we'd slap the mask of humility and restraint
(forged from the bones and blood of the masses)
to their crooked funhouse faces.
...jackasses and elephants... are the same.
We're nothing but pieces of coal to them.
Something to be plucked - pressurized-modified.
Into bling around their middle fingers,
Which they stick far up our asses to bore the spirits from our chests.
He loved her more than life,
He wanted her to be his wife.
He begged her for one more day,
To hear him out, what he had to say.
She said "I can’t talk, I'm busy, go away."
For she churned the witch's cauldron of lust,
As she gave herself freely to men without trust.
His heart turned to a cold lump of stone,
She was a foreigner and must be sent home.
He plotted her downfall with family that ruled boarders,
That issued her capture and deportation orders.
To take her to a place, she hated with all her heart,
Where she was born, to her beginning, her start.
Her pictures were posted on all border control,
She would never wonder out of her country and her home.
He would keep her prisoner as she did him,
As he felt that neither of them should win.
She read the write, which denied her to be free,
And came to beg him to hear her plea.
She met a man with a stone face,
That said "I can’t talk, I’m busy, I have no time to waste."
She said "I will love you and you know it is true,"
"We promised each other, you belong to me and me to you."
Everything she built, owned in his land,
Crumbled to dust, fell at her feet in a heap of sand.
Love was the key and that is all he desired,
While she destroyed him and loved others she hired.
He said "Under different circumstances you could be right,"
"Take her from me out of my sight."
Now she knew that this time for certain’
Her life would be spent behind an iron curtain.