Long Jim Poems
Long Jim Poems. Below are the most popular long Jim by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jim poems by poem length and keyword.
Soul's laugh soul's cry
Soul's live soul's die
But what of the soul's of trees
Sipping soil in which we bleed
Nature uses our body to feed
Colorful tears shed are leaves
Falling like a ballet in breeze
Whimsical dramatic blue melody
Trees that stand as nations fall
Despite wars in lands they stand tall
Hearing all our tales bittersweet
Fearing our own power in peak
Chopping trees down despite need
Shrilling sound of dying greenery
The soul's of men hang low
Hanging then during Jim Crow
Brown bodies lynched from branch
Trees do scream in this land
But we ignore, don't listen at all
Animals we are and sure to fall
If we don't learn to hazel hear
Trees that cry colorful leaf tears
Flameout…… remembering Jim Morrison
Dreams run into the wind
Sending waves crashing into flames rising
From the oil burning on the brains of skyscrapers
Selling shares of forgotten songs
Lost in green pyres of greed
the safe shore, just out of sight
……. The safe shore
Just
Out
of
sight
Steamy prophetic poet stepping into his astral plane
Conjugating with the obsessed erect minds of his congregation
Slithering in his wet leather crow-black pants
Tight enough to be skin
Perched on his precipice of passion
To stage the light to his soul
Descending upon the stunned hungry eyes
As he swayed opening his mouth
To the bulging sweltering sound
Of unworldly magnetism
Panting illusions of rapture with hot strokes of each epic note
Projecting his lyrical persona with magic and moxie
Raising the bristles on the bumps
His throaty rhythm penetrating the space
Of an evolutionary animus of love making
Infusing the sensual spices to lay heedless
To this conqueror of reckless sexual energy
Manifesting words that exterminate any resistance
To the ecstasy of the elation
We confess our immoral selves
To love him completely
You look so pleased to see me
from far along the ward – Jim:
I recognised you after several years and,
returning after analgesia relieved the pain,
shared Communion. Christ's love
which reminded you of the struggle
of Isabel. Memories re-enacting
that stroke which took so much.
I recalled her first words, that revealed her
Scottish – the long commitment you made
to her recovery. You took her home – risen.
Her life I remember vivid, but her death
is absence.
I left you sorrowful, but
somehow thankful for what we'd known, and shared
and treasure still, of Isabel – her courage, our faith
made new there at the bedside. Bread
and wine hallowed again and again – risen.
There were lots of pretty girls
But only one with mahogany curls.
This one had shy amber eyes.
Which caught one big guy by surprise.
His name was Ox Owl Jim.
He called her on a whim.
Did not think he had a chance
But invited her to a dance.
Her name was Tori, and she was a doozy.
His mother called her a little floozy.
At the dance he saw plenty of vigor and vim.
She had way too much sophistication for him.
So he let her go home with another guy.
Once he realized she had caught the other man’s eye.
And he went home to his Mama, Ox Owl Ma.
Where he lives this day, with her and his pa.
Fifty years ago...the age of self-reflection
Hollow crumbs, shadows of proud vestiges
As minneapolis' jim crow vanished slowly,
Painfully, no longer admired at country club
Cocktail parties celebrating ribbon-cuttings
My family was inside and unaware of history
Working class achievement,
First deli in marble edifice
To corporate greed,
Connecting the longest Minneapolis
Skyway North to Washington Ave.
Dallas barons, puppet-masters
Guilding their empire on the backs
Of working class talent, eager to eat the
Crumbs of capitalism
Spoon (Mr Witherspoon) slaved to achieve the
Pinnacle of jim-crow "shoe-shine" stands in
Pillsbury's new world headquarters
Admired in his community
Proudly placed out front, then moved
To the back of a hair salon, ignoble-crushed
Under the weight of boardroom glare
jim-crow lost it's shine
Spoon
Lost
His
Leg
4-18-25
5:55am
Slavery is not the end of atrocities
Suffered by minority communities
The every day systematic sway
Of bricks piled against you like
A wall of pain
So many bricks
The millions murdered for simply being
Who they were born to be black brown red
But of these I speak of what I know firsthand
The professional personal political assassination
of the collective black character is so deep
It is astonishing ingrained and denied to be a thing
For instance because there was a black president
In this racist country people say there you have equality
Nope
A system built on the back of blacks
That promotes hate of anything black
Saving a few teachers pets
Does not save the souls of those
Still being oppressed stressed and put to death
Schools are the battleground as well
We are not even teaching the truth freely
Jim Crow is alive and well look it up
The systems of government are used and abused
To keep people from getting the American Dream
The poor displaced and disgraced
Taxed to the max
While the rich enjoy perks less tax relax
When I walk in a store I am sized up and categorized
followed by security I may get service
But only if I look affluent enough and
Sometimes not even then
Depending on the store and area
When my brother walks down the street
Do you clutch your purse
No really
If he doesn’t style himself just so
Is he perceived as less than
When he goes to the bank for a loan
How often will he be denied
Or unfairly penalized
It’s deeper than slavery
We are still here suffering despite being
Called American we are treated
Not even as well as foreigners
Who seek asylum
Where is that for the brown red black people
It’s not being able to fairly compete for jobs
When corporate snobs want degrees and experience
But how do you get one before the other
When you don’t qualify for loans
Or go in so much debt for college
That the dream is deferred
Or you get the job but the pay
Is poor because you can’t afford the degree
Never mind you are doing the job perfectly
So you must get multiple jobs to eat
I’m so sick of saying that marginalized
Systematic racism in America is more than what happened then it is what is happening today now
And by the looks of it what the future holds
As the systems of old have not been replaced!
Hello. I am Jim Crow, and I was born in America after the Civil War and met my fate many years later after much civil unrest. You may have never encountered me, but some things about me you might already know. I was not a real person, but rather a caricature designed to berate, distort, and ridicule an entire race of people. I represented a system, behind which stood millions of people. They gave birth to and upheld me proudly, using me to implement their blood-letting ideas.
I caused lots of pain, inflicted massive wounds, and was responsible for the death of many innocent people. A psychological nightmare, I had no desire to change; but I was left with little to no choice. You see, people create the systems they want to live under. People and their ideas changed; perhaps others simply disappeared to fight another day. So I also changed, and more precisely, also disappeared. Most of my closest friends would rather pretend that I never existed.
I resided in the southern region and inflicted innumerable emotional scares on certain people. My social order demanded that there be separation of Blacks and Whites. I know. You heard and read about "Apartheid" in South Africa; in America, it was me, Jim Crow.
I must say that it was not my idea to talk about these things. I along with others were given the theme, "Let's Talk About It", and was asked to write something about abuse. So I decided to write about emotional abuse, the type I'm most familiar with. I inflicted lots of it; so I ought to know; I'm Jim Crow. The inhumane treatments to my fellow humans are too numerous to note. I never believed they were humans anyway. Realistically, the only thing inhuman was me, Jim Crow.
As history now reveals, I am no longer around, needed, or desired. I wrecked and ruined lives, causing havoc upon generations of people until the whole nation said, "Enough!". I'm Jim Crow.
8317PS,Let's Talk About It, Richard L., 1P Personification
Skookum Jim wuz born the son uv a Chief uv the Tagish Injun tribe.
Ain't much known about his youth - ain't no totem left to describe.
'Tis known he wuz born in the Yukon where man struggles to survive;
Where a man must hunt and fish fer grub - 'tis a wonder he stays alive!
Fer years Skookum packed supplies frum Skagway up the Chilkoot Pass.
'Tis said he was as straight as a rifle barrel and strong as a barnyard ass!
'Tis alleged he toted 156 pounds uv bacon up the pass on one uv his trips,
Strugglin' through sleet, rain and streams - snow reachin' nigh his hips!
'Tis claimed that Skookum Jim discovered gold along ripplin' Rabbit 'Crick',
And started the frenzied Klondike Gold Rush wieldin' his spade and pick!
His sidekick, old George Carmack, who 'married' Jim's sister Kate,
Also takes credit fer the find leavin' the truth wide-open fer debate!
Skookum Jim worked frum dawn to dusk diggin' in the icy slime and muck,
He struck it rich, as the sayin' goes - the more he dug the more he struck!
Many's the night he spread spruce boughs fer his couch in the blowin' snow,
And feasted on beans and bacon fried on campfires at thirty-five below!
He showed up at Mulroney's Roadhouse in loud plaid shirts and gaudy ties.
Jim wuz treated as a white man now and could imbibe in beers and ryes!
As his end neared, Jim made final preparations includin' a coffin and stone.
Alas, few have heard of Skookum Jim who died rich, yet all alone!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
She's got nerve,
Calling him a boozer
Sittin' next to him
She feels like such a loser
When He's been drinkin'
She'll give that boy a wack
He likes his Jim
But he don't know jack
I heard they got married
Bout a year ago
Figured to elope
I think the story goes
She thought, "What a Man"
As they wrestled in the sack
Yes The boy likes his Jim
But he don't know Jack
Chorus
Now if you're gonna drink
And mess around with girls
Don't pick a Bossy one
or she'll upset your world
And if you plan to keep on drinkin'
And remember watch your back
Cause you Can trust your Jim
But you don't know Jack
Instrumental
The Honeymoon's now over
And she hates it when he drinks
But he is kinda slow
He don't care what she thinks
But when he reaches for a bottle
She's ready to attack
'Cause he likes his Jim
But he don't know Jack
Chorus
Now if you're gonna drink
And mess around with girls
Don't pick a Bossy one
or she'll upset your world
And if you plan to keep on drinkin'
And remember watch your back
Cause you Can trust your Jim
But you don't know Jack