Long Lisbon Poems
Long Lisbon Poems. Below are the most popular long Lisbon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lisbon poems by poem length and keyword.
Oslo
I was in Oslo once and saw the old king
riding a horse, but I was a painting of the Danish king
the king of Norway is more moderate
he drives Bentley
The king and I are of the same age,
he looks stylish
in his admiral uniform with gold tresses
I wear a black T-shirt. shirt it has a pocket for my glasses
The t. shirt hangs on the balcony to dry
while I sit bare-breasted on the sofa, waiting for
the t. shirt to dry
it is the only shirt that hides my sagging stomach
The king was in Lisbon two years ago
the embassy
had a garden party, I was not invited, despite
I was the only true seaman among the lot
I blame the posh people at the embassy, who thought
I might ask the king for a bigger pension
As I said,
I was in Oslo many years ago, invited to read
poetry, which I tried to do, but next door
a horn music orchestra was training words that came
out of my mouth, died in the horrible noise
Yes, they had a flight to Lisbon this very afternoon
when the plane landed, I could have kissed
the tarmac, but being a Norwegian, I'm reserved
Whatever you do in life, you can't forget were
you were born
Foreign Travel- Portugal
It is all that is unspoken that gives a place its atmosphere.....the endless turmoils that come from living....peaceful Celts conquered by Romans
after centuries of resisting. The conquerers monuments still dominate large paved squares .....wide mosaic walking malls with outdoor cafes set a carefree atmosphere. Cobblestones retain the ancient tone of busy roads.
Teal seas sweep out to weathered coastlines ....white buildings jumbled over low hills. Resilient vineyards, olive orchards, cypress and eucalyptus trees, impervious to wind, dot the stony landscape. Dusty green foliage that triumphantly survives between rains.
.....And then there are the people- proud gracious and friendly. A cuisine that is complex but simple in a mind boggling variety. Delicate pastries filled with rich custards, endless varieties of savory pies. Earthy rustic dishes of meat,fish, beans and colorful salads. Buffets crowded with hearty breads, fragrant croissants and inviting desserts. A gastronomic adventure.
....next came the discovery of nesting storks at Comporte, a small coastal,resort town, one hour south of Lisbon. We encountered them in giant stick nests high atop tall chimneys on ancient buildings.
After that -was Casa Palmela ...our most treasured find. A regal, historic residence turned five star hotel. Grand in an old-world style.
Set on a vineyard with low white stucco walls, tall conifers and palms-low-growing with thick sturdy trunks. Who could describe the relaxed balmy atmosphere, the evenings discovering new delicacies and fine wines
in the warm glow of sunset. All too soon we had to leave
But then, why did we leave? To return again, I'm sure.
9/24/17
Foreign travel
Contest Judged: 10/7/2017 1:16:00 PM
Sponsored by: Thvia Shetley
Honorable Mention
Luanda 1975
It was a fraught time in Luanda, the rebel army (freedom fighters)
was closing in on Luanda, leaving civilians exposed
to rape, murder and pillage.
The Portuguese army had dastardly skulked away and
General Spinola was in Lisbon playing politics
Colonialism was over, but there was fear of its ending
when hatred had to be sated.
Among the white population, there was a fatalistic mien
drowning their fear like the sinking Titanic, loud music, booze
and dancing, everything to live a little longer.
Then came the Germans (foreign legion) took charge
staved off the incoming, undisciplined riff-raff army
long enough for people to get on ships and planes to get
the hell out; as for the Germans found their way out to
South Africa.
The aftermath:
When hatred of the colonials subsided, the new Angola
found they needed the know-how of the settlers they
were invited back.
Today, thousands of Portuguese live to thrive in harmony
with the black population,
Stephen is the most successful boccia player,
In the class BC4, he has muscular dystrophy,
He often competes alongside Peter his brother,
To do his best to succeed and secure victory.
He’s been Scottish champion seven times,
Being born in Bellshill in North Lanarkshire,
On the 18th of August in 1984, disco times,
But thru training is now an Hamilton squire.
He’s nine-times British champion, world no. 2,
And with Peter he won gold at the 2009 Euros,
In Lisbon 2010 he took silver, and Norway too,
A silver, and then gold in the 2013 Paris Euros.
Also that year in 2013 he won another gold,
At Guimaraes in Portugal at more Europeans;
2015 saw him collect another silver strolled,
And at the Worlds in 2016 he had gold eons.
He trains hard every day in his home town,
At the new University of West of Scotland;
Jacqueline Lynn and Jim Thomson, renown
In Scotland, train him to control his hand.
Stephen supports Glasgow Celtic football club,
And is proud to be an ambassador for MD UK,
“Boccia is continuing to grow, [it’s a huge hub],
especially internationally. There are now, [ok],
50-odd countries that play. [UK numbers]
have increased as well, and so there is a lot
of competition out there, [also the standards]
have improved, from when I started, a lot.“
Known they are as the Lisbon Lions
But of the West of Scotland were they scions.
Etched in history is their name
Because of that 1967 game.
Immortality upon them is endowed
As they made their fans so proud.
But as the years do move on
So are we left with fewer sons.
One such by the name of McBride
Recently passed to the other side.
A centreforward of great repute
He could score with head or either foot.
Such a joy was he to watch
It made you so proud to be Scotch.
Yet all his roots dated back to Eire
Than which land none is fairer.
As a boy he grew up in Govan
Where the once proud Rangers' writ did run
However,because of their sectarian divide
He could not be signed by his local side.
He plied his trade skilfully and well
As every team he played for can proudly tell
He showed goalscoring was his great art
And his teamwork played a major part
When he finally joined them in the East End
He was destined to become a true legend
His goals set him in a world apart
And he played for Celtic with all his heart.
Although he played not in the European final
His contribution till Christmas that season was vital
With goals galore and impressive teamwork
He was a model player who would never shirk.
And so the crowning glory of his team
Without his contribution would not have been
As a man who never lost the common touch
He remains in our memories loved so much.
It’s one of the masters of colony domination
and the longest standing territory with unchanged defined borders.
The wave power of praia do Norte
attracts the unique technology of a wave farm existence.
In a compound of many flats, it’s the most reserved
and one of the twin sisters
in their menopausal period of the life imprisonment era.
The first domineering power to abolish human right repressiveness
which sustains the oldest alliance made in the world.
It’s a colourful identity, maintained by the porto
which has been imitated by regional powers.
Shines through a record-breaking Santa Claus parade
and hitting heights with a ‘half-a-county’ dinning.
Known continental praises of remarkable length in Vasco da Gama;
shows off mini-glory in the league of large firework rockets;
an intangible cultural heritage in the express exhibition of fatalism;
are highlights to its greatness
spreading from porto to Lisbon, then Braga to Benfica and overseas
contributing its ink, in the inscriptions of the developed giants.
Behind the behind
Behind the holiday inn near the bus station used by us the masses
and immigrants and those who wander in no man’s land.
There are streets of houses kept in a gloomy mood of semi-poverty and cheap wine.
I walked these streets, shuttered windows, here and there a small shop
run by a Pakistani, how they can make a living out of it is a wonder.
There are cafes too I nearly walked into but had to stake a step back by a smell
the was Mongolian by its muscular scent.
We had been to a gigantic old hospital where dying is against the law,
yet doctors and nurses to keep it open, a valiant fight that was doomed to failure.
She had a hip problem waiting for transport took three hours the boredom
stretched endlessly before us in a part of Lisbon few sane tourists will see.
Back at the bus station, I found a corner of a second-hand shop I bought a book
of prose poetry and got one for free.
I marvelled at the seller, an Indian from Bangalore, selling poetry in Iberia.
What is missing in this city?
What is missing in Stockholm, in Paris,
In London and Copenhagen,
The sun.
What is missing in this city?
What is missing in Paris, in Brussels,
In Honfleur and Geneva,
L'ennui
What is missing in this city?
What is missing in this city?
What is missing in Lyon, Paris, Marseille,
nice people, forgiving people in heaven,
People watching the sea,
What is missing in this city?
What is missing in Paris, Berlin, Lisbon
Or in Rome, Vienna or Sarajevo,
Youth, youth, youth,
A girl who says YES to birds,
A poet who says YES to a girl,
The sun finally, which says: «Yes, I like you as you are».
Mean Machine
The locomotive was an old mean machine
only used for carrying gods at local stations along
boring flatland. Once it had been a young and
the President of Portugal rode on it, not only him
but many other high up all the way to Lisbon.
And now? It wanted to go hiding somewhere dark,
but where does one conceal an iron horse?
The train passed near the parking lot in Faro
I was out with my dog, and there I could let her
run free. There was a hole in the fence were
the tracks. Naturally, she jumped through.
She saw the train that seemed to speed up
with murderous intent when she jumped clear it
was too late. I had her buried and the following
days were long and full of sadness.
The importance of the small things
Out of a crack at the foot of a wall, a tiny baby mouse
blinded by the brightness of this autumnal day
I picked up the new life and put it in the palm of my hand
sensing the warmth, the baby curled up and slept.
To think this tiny animal had a heart, lungs, liver and
so, just like me; living in a world too immense to
grasp other than an outline of space and time.
In less than a week, the baby mouse will be an adult
and since mice do not go for higher education, one
can assume it will not take an interest in the Binary
or no Binary aspect of the struggle to survive.
I put the infant back where it came out of the wall
and upset an Australian, the seller of the house who
hated vermin with a passion.
He claimed mice who came by boat to Australia with
prisoners from the British islands had no enemies
there and was free to breed, they did with a vengeance.
Once he had a farm in Victoria, he didn’t give detail
about the location of the farm, only that an army of mice
and eaten his Vietnam pigs and many of his cats.
He sat fire to the dry grass outside the barn, trying to stop
the onslaught, but the fire also set his barn ablaze
his house took fire also, lost everything he did.
The insurers wouldn’t pay him compensation because
of his stupidity; angrily, he condemned his countrymen
as vulgar beings.
The man from Australia took up trucking; for two
years crossed the mainland of Oceania killing mice if they
crossed the road.
Having saved up money and also won some monies
at the local lottery, he landed in Lisbon and spoke to a land agent
and bought a farm in Alentejo and specialized in
mule breading, that thrived when he was informed that
breeding mules entails horses and donkeys too.