Long Lilliput Poems
Long Lilliput Poems. Below are the most popular long Lilliput by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lilliput poems by poem length and keyword.
(Immediately after being found "guilty"
of denying that the earth was stationary
and the sun orbited around it, Galileo
said, "Eppur si muove!" [But it moves!])
It's hard to live in Lilliput, I find.
I have to cross my fingers, play their game.
Their billing, filling, drilling daily grind
sits ill with me. They all trot out the same
tired cliches. Passing a painting, never fail
to comment on the squareness of the frame.
Unprofitable, weary, flat and stale.
You can't earn prizes here. These fools prize earning.
No sweets to eat. It's one long dreary tale
of condemnation, disapproval, spurning.
The Sunday supplements determine taste,
all tearing down, forbidding, banning, burning.
They're sealed in heavy metal, concrete-cased
austerity. They put the "die" in "diet".
What will survive of them is nuclear waste.
Denounce, detract, dismiss it and deny it.
Don't look for clover - look for cloven hooves.
Excoriate it, flay it, vilify it.
They'd love to let life lurch along in grooves,
the gauche, perverse, unruly human mind
trapped tidily in aspic. But it moves.
(As Galileo left the session of the Inquisition
at which he had been forced to deny his own
discovery that the earth orbited the sun, and
had to "admit" that the earth was static, he
murmured, "eppur si muove" ("but it moves").
It's hard to live in Lilliput, I find.
I have to cross my fingers, play their game.
Their billing, filling, drilling daily grind
sits ill with me. They all trot out the same
tired cliches. Passing a painting, never fail
to comment on the squareness of the frame.
Unprofitable, weary, flat and stale.
You can't earn prizes here. These fools prize earning.
No sweets to eat. It's one long dreary tale
of condemnation, disapproval, spurning.
The Sunday supplements determine taste,
all tearing down, forbidding, banning, burning.
They're sealed in heavy metal, concrete-cased
austerity. They put the "die" in "diet".
What will survive of them is nuclear waste.
Denounce, detract, dismiss it and deny it.
Don't look for clover - look for cloven hooves.
Excoriate it, flay it, vilify it.
They'd love to let life lurch along in grooves,
the gauche, perverse, unruly human mind
trapped tidily in aspic. But it moves.
Nigeria,my country,
I remember you with mixed feelings
A great contraption
A mere geographical expression.
You have never been a nation!
A mere colonial creation
A time bomb awaiting explosion
You were marked for greatness
Epitome of God's kindness
But shying away from your destiny
You mask yourself in mediocrity.
You are a bundle of contradictions!
Steeped deep in corruption
Steeped deep in religion
Feeding your children with frustration.
You are the sleeping giant,
With the limbs of a Lilliput
Moving forward a task
Agonizing and slow.
You are the king
Whose princes and princesses
Like lazarus eat the crumbs
From the table.
Let these contradictions!
Let these frustrations!
Be catalysts to battle corruption to standstill
Thereby adding value to the national till!
Let there arise a leader in your midst!
With vision
With conviction
Ready to drop dead
To make of you a paradise!
Laughing, dancing, having the time of her life,
Faerie Fun went from mushroom house to toadstool cottage,
Spreading joy,
Playing with everyone
In a kind and pleasant way.
There was going to be no sadness
In Faerie Forest today if she could help it.
It is up to me, she said.
I am the catalyst for happiness today.
She ate breakfast with the Nymph family,
And they laughed about silly stuff,
But no people.
She watched Lila Leprechaun’s Lilliput dance,
And she clapped and clapped while
Mama Leprechaun took care of the
Unhappy baby. Baby calm. All is well.
Faerie Fun was soon skipping
Up the walk to the most challenging
House of all.
Change your attitude! She warned herself.
Change your attitude!
Her jaw was clamped tightly shut now, and she
Was already filled with dread.
Pixie Dust! Her internal voice yelled. NOW!
The sparkly particles surrounded her, and settled down all over her, calming her instantly, and
Changing her attitude from not-so-great to wonderful.
Before she left Grump-Eater’s house, he gave her a long, lingering hug. No one gets me like you, he said.
Progress at last.
Sometimes it is simply a matter of us changing our attitude.
Balloon, balloon, so high in the air,
Its destination I know not where,
Its point of departure, that is too
A mystery in the sky of blue.
I too wonder, wonder, why oh why
This bright drifter was allowed to fly
As it left to float in the air so high,
Did a two year old begin to cry?
I must, I must ask the question “who?”
Is the boy or girl whose age is two?
Did her grandma say, “this is for you”,
Giving it not to the sky so blue?
A puzzle, a puzzle, too, is how
This nomad came to where it is now.
Did playful winds blow it over this town,
While silly gravity went upside down?
What about, what about, what about when
Did this wayward orb’s fun journey begin -
Way back in Egypt by a pyramid
When Cleopatra was just a kid?
Maybe, maybe it had cargo, but what?
A note or resident of Lilliput?
Oops, by Gosh, it did just disappear,
And my thoughts did too - with a pop, I fear!
After the party,
I’ve found myself on a tropical island
Just like how Gulliver was taken to the island, Lilliput.
I haven’t either heard or visited that island.
A fantasy world with
Fathomless valleys, lush green meadows
Transparent water bodies, hanging puffy clouds,
Glowing stars settled on the glossy mountain peaks
Animals roaming with no disparity of wild and domestic
Tramcars, boats and buses are not in use
No constraints of traffic rules and U-turns
Men are carried by white winged birds.
No wars, no leaders, no foes and no prophets
In no time people can call on their friends.
Fruits of all seasons available the way how Dr Faustus enjoyed
Meeting strange men the way how Alice met in the wonderland
It seems like the heaven of freedom.
Perhaps, the fantasy stories hidden in my subconscious mind
Might have led me into this tropical island
I am fascinated by the wonders of the tropical island.
But I want to go back because
I’ve missed the invisible emotional bond twined with my motherland.
Place : 4
It was a dark and stormy night, or so the story goes
Another of those wondrous tales to keep us on our toes
Like looking glass and wonderland, grim witches and their spells
Peter Pan and his lost boys, the lovely Tinkerbell
The days I’ve spent lost to the world, so snug inside a book
The villains who are best of all, Long John and Captain Hook
I’ve sailed away to desert isles and walked the frozen wastes
Swum deep beneath the ocean waves; the Kraken I have faced
Sherlock Holmes to Frankenstein have held me in their thrall
But can I name just one that I have loved the best of all?
On different days I need to find a different place to be
Sitting on my daily train: oh, commuter misery
Today it’s off to Lilliput in the company of Swift
Tomorrow could be opium dens, by Sherlock left adrift
Or possibly to Mordor, to fight those pesky orcs
Or up north to Skallagrigg, to fly among the hawks
If I had a pound or two for every place I’d been
I’d be a millionaire by now, but I really must come clean
The written word to me is worth much more than any cash
A nice new book is just the thing, I’ll add it to my stash
The gadgets that are used today are all right in their place
It’s print and ink in solid form that put a smile upon my face