Long Korea Poems
Long Korea Poems. Below are the most popular long Korea by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Korea poems by poem length and keyword.
Chinese trollers
Cranes and pulleys motor oil saliva
Fishhook cockroach antennas dipped to the oceans
Thousands of sailing creepy crawlers
Bandits with razors
Cross the boundless seas
Devours crumbs of every kind of confiscated fish
Left to crawl or swim on the ocean floor
The hulls share their creaking space
With bunks for 20-year-old sailor slaves
Signed on
Then denied Port for up to three years
“Mama mama rescue me.” Messages from tossed beer bottles
If these young men get sick or hurt
Sometimes over the side they go
Fish guts
Transfer the catch to larger Chinese factory ships
Shadows slinking under the middle-ocean moons
That spoon the salt from emptied seas
Every Treaty and Border violated
Back to China
On ice
The raped slave girls in blue uniforms
Sold from North Korea for two years a piece
Slice and dice with knives
Fish heads and sucker arms
Sliding along the bloody Chinese assembly lines
18 hours a day with an evening beating
Seven days a week
Packaged tagged
Up sold again
North Korea’s skin in the game?
Meat to fund their nuclear missiles
Oh
Don’t bother blaming the CCP Biden Trump
Moon or Corporate America
It is we
The religious consumer
Who have been sufficiently and recently
Re-trained
To have an insatiable appetite
To woof down Calamari
Thought you’d like to know
Though
The long modern journey of re-branded squid.
Towards spring?
Days are longer now, here where I live
and despite the cold weather, the almond tree is in flower
stubbornly doing what it has forever.
It brings gladness to my old heart the survival of winter.
I have stopped watching the news TV stations are repeating
the same old mantra, propaganda and lies
making Russia the big Satan and I ran the devil.
Trump wants to upgrade his nuclear arms and threatens
North Korea for wanting the weapon too.
The Palestine people are suffering there is not let up in Israel’s
ill will and brutality against them.
So I will live it all alone and wonder if the almond tree
will survive the coming war.
Aye pride myself
being sui generis
verb hose subject for a zoologist,
cuz webbed phalanges
branch handsomely
from mine feet and wrist,
where perforce great expectations,
asper the next greatest (I SCREAM)
scoop of the month intimated,
conducted under top secret
controlled laboratory conditions
with yours truly (as the de facto
par excellence)
rodent named "Oliver twist"
Lady Dedlock key ping
watchful eye within bleak house,
while Thomas Gradgrind
feigns tubby bad company
during these hard times
temporarily all quietest
lull on the western front
since Donald Trump
detente foretold by a palmist,
whereby said President
of the United States
feeling as an optimist
met with Kim Jong-un,
(cautiously side stepping morass,
viz hit blind side dare devil hoodwinking,
via awe shucks faux bully)
suspending noninterventionist
impact unexpectedly witnessed leader
of North Korea as multilateralist
on historic June 12, 2018,
summit minus linguist,
where fist pumping in Singapore
for unilateral negotiations
offloading nationalism
weighing down
figurative chest i.e. kist
by resplendent sun, where ma lounge
sotto voce, somber solemnly
sober ensemble re: joist
uniting this stately isolationist,
whose approximate
ten stone heft easy to hoist
merely sustains purposelessness
this poem without a gist
hence if Yukon spare one
(or more cruxes) lemme be fist
in line, though first, aye
would need to convince thee
this scribe doth exist!
Joshua Nkomo fought the white man
Who had come to Africa, taken the land
The whites ruled Rhodesia, though we should note
Toward the end they had one man one vote
Which meant that blacks and whites
in that respect had equal rights.
Nkomo saw his fight as one of racial liberation
Mugabe, his rival, also fought for a black nation.
Mugabe was a Shona, Nkomo a Ndebele
Neither of them were what you'd call a nice fella,
Russia supported the Ndebele, the Shona had China there
North Korea trained Shona too, a reason to beware
Mugabe became leader but not by winning the fight
He got elected, Shona voters had more might
White rule ended, and all lived happily ever after
Actually, not true, what happened next was a disaster
Mugabe unleashed the Five Brigade
They had trained in North Korea, time for Ndebele to be afraid
So what can we learn, I don't have a dog in this fight
I don't think colonial rule was right
The Ndebele tribe were now killed en masse
Vast numbers of corpses under the African grass.
The lesson as I see it is that the violent liberator
May resonate with you, but he can be a hater
When he gets into power, to keep power he kills
While the sympathizers close their eyes to the blood that spills.
Let’s apply this lesson to leftists in the Hamas tent
A few brave Gazans point out Hamas doesn't like dissent
One dissident's first day in jail haunts his dreams
He can't forget listening to his colleagues’ screams.
Hamas members won an election, made logical moves
They consolidated power, threw rivals off roofs.
Again, both rivals weren’t all that nice
Even if you like their cause, there is a moral price.
You can find justice in many a cause, but that doesn't mean
Those who take up arms are worthy of your esteem.
In the 90’s radicals might wear a Che Guevara t-shirt
But beware, when with communists you flirt.
Che liked witnessing executions by firing squad
He’d shoot the bullet too, so admiring him is odd.
Some Cubans learned the hard way, Joshua Nkomo did as well
You can leave Purgatory and still end up in hell.
Know this, my friend, and don’t look back,
Be you white or brown or black.
Freedom’s more than a rebel’s name,
It’s how you treat folks once you’ve won the game.
by Bob Moore © 2020
(keep the tune of Lilli Marlene in your mind)
I was born in England, 1942.
Dad was in the Army, and learning what to do
if Jerry the German should invade
he’d make them pay
chase them away.
my dad he was a tanker
an 8th Irish Hussar
On that cold winters morning
when I first saw the light
didn’t know the world was
in the middle of a fight
a fight for its freedom
and way of life
a world of fear
of war and strife
but we would go on fighting
until the very end
In ’46 the war was over
and my dad he came home
to be with his family
and never more to roam,
but six years later
he’d gone again
another war
of fear and flame
fighting in Korea
against another foe
He came home and decided
it was time for us to go
to leave the land where we were born
and find another home
so we went to Australia for peace, and sun
and here ten thousand miles from home
we would stop our roaming
our new life had begun.
Love Haibun Poetry Soup Contest
Every morning when I wake up, I drink coffee and reflect on the fairy tale aspect of my life. I met the girl of my dreams in a dream 45 years ago. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She spoke to me in a strange language and disappeared. I yell out “Who are you?” She smiled and faded away as I fell to the ground in my HS school physics class. I started having the dream every week for eight long years then one day she walked off a bus in South Korea, and entered my life and became my wife two months later. That was the date I met my fate.
She came in my dream
For eight years haunting my dreams
I met fate that date
Author’s Note: based on my true love story
Homelessness, world hunger,
social security is almost gone.
Fascism, racism,
no more water to wet our lawn.
Unknown diseases and pestilence,
can’t afford to sell our land.
Not a drop of consumer confidence,
no one to lend us a helping hand
No jobs, low wages.
inflation has us by the balls.
Housing crisis, trade deficit,
extinction is coming for us all
The politicians say they have the answers
for climate change and the oceans dying.
They keep telling us what we want to hear
but we know that they’re just lying.
North Korea, Russia, and China,
seems they would love nothing more.
Than to push their big red buttons,
and send us into a nuclear war.
One thing is ever certain,
our government will always be there.
With both hands probing our pockets,
looking for a bigger share.
They say they want to drain the swamp
But what we gonna do when it runs dry
And there’s nothing left for any of us to do
but to sit alone on the muddy bank and cry
Vegas be Damned!
Vegas took him off the board at 80.
As the cards were dealt each day, passersby
would swear the deck was stacked –
against him. Fate had, for some reason,
chosen him to constantly be in the line
that closed for lunch, watching the bus
he just missed - leave. Youth, street kid,
pin setter in a bowling alley, living at the
kindness of friends parents, eating as the
opportunity presented. 17, enlisted,
good duty, three hots and a cot. Re-enlisted,
war, Korea, PTSD (before it was PTSD).
Discharged, returned to the streets of
his youth – no longer a youth. The drink,
elixir of the damned, damnation of the
scarred, comforter of the comfortless.
Arrests and jail time, flop houses, back
to the streets. Early in his forties, fate’s
dealer broke open a new deck. A chance
meeting, a choice, an unsteady walk,
a door, into a new life. Get well jobs,
dishwasher, grave digger, volunteer.
A 75 dollar car, an apartment of his
own, friends, and fellowship. Another
better job, 30 years later, retirement
at age 75. A birthday party shared with
friends - many half his age of 84. He
still walks the streets of his youth
proudly, thinks of those who, unlike him,
were not as fortunate. Those who succumbed
to the rigors of life, and death, the unseen
wounds that never healed, the hopelessness
of a stacked deck. He laughs a lot, has a
bit of a skip in his step, a wry smile on his
face, an MBTA Charlie Card in his wallet,
and a plan to be a part of this day.
Vegas be damned!
John G. Lawless
10/18/2014
for Gautami Phookan – Sketch a Character – Poetry Contest
As a tad his soul was fired as he was regaled with family lore,
Rapt, hearing of his forebear's national service in times of yore.
Following tradition, he donned the uniform as his fathers did before,
Eager to serve his nation in its uniform that he so proudly wore!
He learned that in the misty past an ancestor served at Valley Forge,
To help free the emerging nation from the bondage of King George.
A forefather served as a sergeant in the Battle of New Orleans,
Barely surviving the ordeal on rations of rancid bacon and beans!
A grandfather carried a musket in the Mexican War affair.
Another, a cavalryman in the Civil War, served with elegant flair.
In the Spanish-American fray, a relative charged up San Juan Hill.
His great-granddad led a platoon in World War One with consummate skill!
His grandad was a fighter pilot during World War Two, becoming an ace,
Later to soar as an astronaut through the vast expanses of space!
His Dad, a colonel of artillery served with conspicuous bravery,
In Korea and Viet Nam to free peoples from the yoke of slavery!
The young warrior himself served with distinction in each Gulf War,
As an expert 'copter pilot in the United States Marine Corps!
Recounting the sacrifices their fathers made to keep this nation free,
He instilled in his son the worth of service, while dandling him on his knee!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
In the markets, a wounded dollar sighs,
IEA cuts oil demand, to no surprise.
Stocks stride to records, touching the sky,
With eyes on CPI, the reason why.
The Japanese yen, in decline it stays,
Interest rate differentials pave the ways.
The Fed needs low inflation signs, they wait,
For CPI results to decide their fate.
Bitcoin speculation, 2.8 million hold tight,
In the worst performing price cycle’s plight.
European banks set to cut rates soon,
EUR/USD climbs, a one-month boon.
China’s probe into EU trade barriers thickens,
As June CPI trends downward, rate cut quickens.
Pepsi earnings watched, stocks tread still,
Investors brace for inflation’s will.
JP Morgan upgrades Malaysia’s grade,
Policy reforms and progress made.
CPI data lower than we thought,
Markets soar, in gains they’re caught.
WTI oil shows bearish trends,
Investors shun junk bonds, as bankruptcy ascends.
South Korea fears Trump’s second round,
JP Morgan expects Fed cuts abound.
Market’s bullish momentum extends,
US inflation cools, rate cut trends.
Will China’s bank boost its economy’s fire?
June CPI’s cut path higher.
Wall Street climbs on inflation’s ease,
Yet big tech slumps, investors seize.
Trump’s win could Bitcoin’s value inflame,
JPY’s intervention remains the same.
China’s exports rise, imports fall,
BoJ intervenes, inflation stalls.
ECB slow on cuts, poll shows,
Commodities rise, US CPI glow.
Pound sterling rises, gold retreats,
Higher bond yields, USD beats.
Yen’s rally pauses, intervention denied,
Turkey’s back, emerging market’s pride.