Long Locality Poems
Long Locality Poems. Below are the most popular long Locality by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Locality poems by poem length and keyword.
Great traditional bavila priest,
When you hear about the great
traditional bavila priest called
" Kasongo Nguni"
from bahinga clan,
Who worked for the bavila kingdom
On the reign of King Musabwa
Kamango Munanila.
One of bavila very wise priests
who could see mysterious things.
His surname " Nguni " can be found
In Mozambique, Malawi, Swaziland
Zambia, South Africa and Tanzania
where Nguni nations are populated.
Many bavila names and surnames
rooted from the Luba Empire
which was on southern
part of the current D.R.Congo.
Many centuries passed but bavila
still recognizing their roots
due to the name of some places
which were called under their ancestors
while migrating from Sangha " buluba" to Uvila.
There are a lot in common between the Nguni
nations of southern region of Africa
with bavila.
Some surnames of bavila can be found
at Nguni lands in South Africa , Swazland,
Malawi , Zambia, Zimbabwe.
Example " KwaNguni " which means at Nguni.
There is a mountain called " ILenge , or Lenge"
in Kwazulu-Natal,
some people can refer it
as a mysterious mountain.
Lenghe "ILUNGA LENGE" was one
of the early kings of bavila,
Later on,
the royal clan was called under his name
"Bene lenge " to mean the descendents of Lenge,
to protect their migration trace from Luba Empire.
There are some places in DRCongo , Zambia
and South Africa which are called " Lenge"
1. One locality in bukama " Haut Lomami province" in D.R,Congo is called " Lenge"
2. There is a locality in North- West Zambia with the name of " Lenge"
3. Lengé is a locality in cuvette department near to localities Molembé Kombé and Likounga in DRCongo.
4. Lenge is a suburb in Nkonkobe local municipality in Eastern Cape - South Africa.
5. Lenge - bundala is a locality in Manono, Tanganyika province which is nearby
Kakobe village and Kaniambe locality.
There are other places
which were called under the names
of some bavila well-known leaders
1. Mundi
2. Nguni
3. Lugongo
4. Bijombo
3. Munanila
4. Musabwa
5. Uvila
Volga – 4
to the homoeopathy phial
standing on the traffic-island
why it appears
within her womb
the number of germinated nights
stolen without a kiss
is too little
is then it true
if all the chanting of Harinam
can’t be withdrawn from the alcohol
the body-odour of the running tamarisk-shrub
will enter into the circuit-house
and that devouring of the parchment
brings to the feelings of the non-veg ant-hills
the let’s-go-cure
gathering in the sauce-island
Volga - 5
coming to this ironed canal-side
every auto-rickshaw
wants to know and let other know
the mystery
behind the rice-rain
from the cirrus
the shame in the eyes of the seal containing signs
supplies the whole-sale dealership
of the civil disobedience movement
to the locality
the role of the hammer also
wakes up early in the morning
to put under its own tongue
an antacid
is it possible that the spits
used in the observatory
be made a little more fast-moving
manuscript of the basement of a well
the biography of the pond-heron will be scripted
even-then the productivity of the merry-go-round
wouldn’t be uttered for a moment
no sir, such has never been expected
in the liquefied banana-blossoms
too many hot breads resulted from the season-change
continues to bat vehemently
and climbs to the peak of heart-throbbing runs
they in a group will go to the
aqua anetha of the mole hill
to organise a folk-song
to understand this
no arbitration of the cactus is required
notwithstanding
it is heard that the thread was pulled
by the violin of the wife of the moon-god
from behind the screen
here in the eye-front
is the basement of the morning-well
on its one page lies the faulty crow-caws
and on another some sun-shines
swinging on the hanger
after some pages in recurring …the chicken-pox … the boot-polish …
within the two covers of the dance-drama
also comes the creepers and herbs
grown around the melting point
of the arm-chair
whose legs are broken
if each pore on the skin of the river-lily
becomes so much known
then in the background of this low land
let us have one game more
FALLEN STANDARD
The passeth days goeth this fast
The cometh days changeth this fast
Thou time of the seasons that sleep low
Thee changeth time, changeth behaviour
changeth man, give me back time.
The days of oldeth that standard
Was peak, time changereth, man died
Younger, you changereth, seasons gives ways.
We forgotten what makes us shout at night
The village square lost significance
Why thy squash? We uses square for churches
Oh, standard has fallen, Respect lost
Fallen standard, our locality grow with
love, our fathers grow with respect.
Believe, unity, strength and power.
We have given Our Own, to have their
Own, time take me back, where is respect
Let me have her.
African standard has fallen
We lost respect
African preferred the big market
Were is your small once that
Meet your needs?
African preferred the big towns
Were our village and our fathers
Grave grow grass
Africans were is you Respect
My father told me about?
Africans were is your strength?
The black colour of your nations
All are fallen, fallen to dust
African call back your children
Call her back she is far very far
Time healer of pain take me back
To build to a good standard.
African of the Atlantic
African of the equator
Africans of the desert
Cultured me in your race, black
Colour, strength of the empires
REASONS OF WRITING
African have given all traces of her race To have western life, forgotten were she Is from. So many Africans have.given up her colour that unit the race and decided to take the western life.
MESSAGE
1. What unit the nations of Africans her colour (black colour)
2. We should stop fighting one another we are of the same race.
3. What we live our locality to big towns can be really be gotten within the locality. The Africans can unit without war
4. That those in far lands (western world) should come home and build this empires.
5. Have is very important in the race of Africans.
You'll All Know When I Die.
Ya wanna know why?
Because I possess what many would see as amazing abilities,
but these abilities of mine can be attained by anybody
who takes the time to learn, practice and read.
Do you know that I can trace any computer users actual physical locality?
I never would but I could easly.
It's as easy as tracing a phone call with Caller ID.
There isn't a system that any computer hacker can't infiltrate easily,
but there are precautions one can take for their computer's and their own personal safety.
For example use public computers at varying different localities
and that will make a computer hacker stalker's finding you an impossibility.
There is also out there a lot of diversion computer technology.
This will keep any hacker too occupied to get a fixed trace temporarily.
Log off within a specific time period and the hacker's trace will end unsuccessfully.
Which brings me back to the beginning, You'll All Know When I Die
because when I know it's all over for me, I'm gonna leave you all with a great surprise.
It's time for a Revolution in my once great country
being destroyed by political bureaucrats and corporations motivated by greed,
so just before I die for all of you I will leave
a new beginning for my once great magnificent country.
I will infiltrate the IRS computer system with a virus successfully
and wipe out every social security number of every citizen in the country.
You can then all not pay your taxes without fear of losing your assets and property.
Of course all this information can eventually be retrieved
but it will take generations for our government to achieve.
I only hope that my parting gift will be a rebirth and not destruction of my country,
but if something doesn't change soon in my once great country
The United States of America will self destruct anyway eventually.
if the sinking-of-boat …ice-cream by name
be deducted from the swept-off-in-flood … by name roll no 31
then would the wings of the comics
cease to exist
what says the uninterrupted sound of water-falling
from the stomach of the moon
what writes the pus and blood
what writes the fuming-hot rice
the creepers and the herbs grow continuously
in the insomniac bath-tub
the sounds of the horse-hoof floated by the river
used to change the velocity of its clothes
both in the morning and evening
the birds from the cornice go to school
by dip-swimming
it may come one day when the fishes
become very angry and in the tale of the sweet-meat
the potter will destroy the jointly-built bee-hive
then all hurricane would be habituated to dinner
sans saliva
then there would be no such morning-walk
in the body of the trees
from which such a bore could be found out
through which an elderly saral may fly
into the blue translation of a squirrel
the magnetic field of the orange-pulp
and the productivity of the open window
reside in the same locality
if their frequency be touched
then the the antenna of the mermaids
speared with sleeping-oil
may be injured
by burnings their eyes
the crow-birds knocks at
in the soap-foams
produced by the afternoon
the pond with a jumping deer
wants to make bite
it is not known by this way
when a white hyphen
sticks to the palate of the shirt
now put off all the whispers
and let it be talked on the will-paper of the bees
why the pages from the honourable ash-trays
be excluded
those bunch of waters
that come out from the churning of the anises
and the jumps born of their semen
also make friends with the group-photos
now let this other night sends its best wishes
to the future candles
through a cell-phone
Weird, strange, illusion, dream, nonsense; words plenty since ever
To overcome fear, avoid confusion, maintain commonsense or whatever!
But this story of mine is an experience I record as game of nature;
Revisiting it, wondering on the hows and whys over the years as I grew mature.
The answer only he held; the one who wished to live life careless and carefree!
Then one day he sunk in the marsh and died, setting her widowed mother free
As if of all frustrations and reproaches from kin, peers and so many in the locality!
A good soul he had met once who admonished him, patiently
And left him in some good hands who could guide him start anew.
He tried to change but at his own time, as of what was in future he had no clue.
What thoughts in mind and what visions froze in eyes closing to death? One phone call to the good soul after a year; as if from other realm, a message.
His name he left, saying to tell that good soul he had called; was it a presage?
That good soul ready ever to help called a friend who related to him in melancholy;
That very morning, he had been to the boy’s one year after death ceremony!
The good soul sat in shock; he didn't even know about his death a year back.
In trance he walked to his fiancée's house; over night he talked to her about him, in flashback!
(I wrote a short story on this. Based on true experience in 1993, some months before my wedding. It was during the “Pitra Paksh” (Fete des morts in Hindi) – here we are actually in this period which ends on 1st oct 2016. The boy met my fiancé, a youth worker, who had some words with him and his family. He never met him again. Among Hindus the final after death ceremony is performed after one year of death and it is believed that the soul, if not departed earlier, has to after the last and final ceremony)
One night returning home from the marketplace
Street lights suddenly went out.
I could see the road curving in the headlight of my car.
After driving for some time ,I reached a place
By the side of a streamlet.
Yet there is no streamlet in my locality
Nor on the way from that market place to my home.
Confused I turned back but reached at another place.
This time by the side of a rill ,water hyacinth floated,
Some houses standing quietly in the darkness
On its other bank.
Again ,I failed to know where I was;
It seemed nature disguised herself in another garb.
Then, to my relief, in that lonely atmosphere
I saw some local youths loitering.
I asked them for directions to my locality.
One of them gave me directions of the routes
I should take
I resumed driving my car to the direction he indicated .
After driving some distance on the right turning roadway
I saw some women standing on the roadside
A pressure lamp placed before them.
Oh, a beautiful girl I saw among them !
She seemed like a maiden in an oasis
To a tired wayfarer who lost his ways in the desert.
I politely asked them for direction to my locality
Not sure, although told by those youths which direction to go.
One of them told me to go further till a crossroad
There to turn left and drive to find my locality.
I again drove my car.
Then the street lamps illuminated the dark street and I knew
The place where I was .
Oh, that was the place I frequented, and it
Not far from my locality.
I reached home, finally out of a big puzzle.
But I felt that night I had roamed to unknown places
Exotic in the darkness of the night .
It was an exciting experience .
25th April 2008
I was once sent back in time to my newly assigned starship.
I was sent back to prevent the destruction of it.
Someone had planted a bomb hidden somewhere within it,
that would blow five years after with my crew and me in it.
My job was to go back into time and disable it
and capture and bring to justice the bomb planting culprit.
My mission caused me an injury known as temporal psychosis shock
by creating a series of a most complex paradox.
I first witnessed me enter the starship's galley
and knew from my experience in this moment previously
that I would hold a conference in my quarters immediately.
I took advantage of my absence and hurriedly
attempted to find the saboteur before the bomb was planted successfully.
I followed my instrument designed to trace the bomb's energy
and came upon the bomb and its culprit's locality.
I was however surprised and shocked to see
that the saboteur planting the bomb was yours truly.
I arrested me and returned immediately to the future's time presently,
where I was placed in a cell with many others of me
who had partaken in this temporal paradox series,
which I later came to learn was started by me.
All of the me's are currently now being integrated back to only one me
and sent back to before any of this ever came to be.
then the time stream can return back to normal hopefully.
I turned to me and said to me
as we were about to be integrated permanently.
"I guess I'll see you back from before any of this started"
Me then said to me, "I'm looking forward to it,
or should I say backward?"
I then responded to me most pleadingly,
"Please stop it right there, or you're gonna get me started."
Life, life, life
So many people confused about its clarity
Chasing the wind, not knowing its vanity.
They do this to destruction with stupidity.
How can we stop this insanity?
People trying to defy gravity
Always amassing, and never thinking of charity.
Well I am not a fan, nor care for popularity
I want to make a mark,
and not just be hailed like a celebrity.
Yeah, I want to be proud of my nationality,
Would like to have an impact on my locality,
Though I know its vanity,
I want to live it in its entirety.
Singing praises to the heavenly,
Till the day I’ll leave this earth to eternity.
Life, Life, Life.......
A lot that I see that makes it beautiful,
The flowers and trees they make it colorful.
The rivers, the ocean, the seas, make it wonderful.
The birds, they sing and fly make it joyful.
Because I want to see more of this I became prayerful,
So as not to lack, I became dutiful.
It breaks my heart to see tears, so I became merciful.
I stand aloof, in solitude, to get a chance to be thoughtful.
In all his I praise Jehovah, and I am thankful.
To the beat I dance and I am cheerful.
Don’t take it for granted I beg you.
If you are wise, you’ll be careful.
I know you are bitter, and tend to be vengeful,
Look at the sky, the sea, the birds they’ll calm you.
Whether you are good or bad, the sky will shed tears on you.
The seas wash your feet and cares not who you are.
If you so appreciate me, so says life,
Don’t hold on to pain for too long.
Free your mind from pain,
There is more to life, than just faking up reality.
Poem written by Kolawole Ogunfowokan
Originally mine.
I now must live my life by a code, "Trust No One."
I know the extent my government will go with their ruthless intimidation.
Your worst enemy in the world could end up being your very best friend.
Here is how I envision the possibility of this happening.
My best friend is in a pickle, major tax liability.
This debt has been orchestrated and exaggerated by the IRS agency.
He is about to lose everything and he's supporting his family,
then my government steps in very polite, but very intimidatingly.
"You do this for us and your country,
and we will leave you alone, along with your entire family.
We will negotiate a very reasonable plan to settle your tax liability,
all you have to do is help us and help serve your country.
Bring your best friend alone to this locality.
We will take it from there, and escort you home directly.
We appreciate all your help and your service to your country,
in our War On Terror and all terrorist activity."
The next thing you know I vanish mysteriously.
This Kind Of Thing Is Happening Presently All Across My Country.
Individuals on this god forsaken terrorist watch list,
have mysteriously, suspiciously suddenly vanished,
or have met premature uninvestigated deaths,
most likely because they all were very active activists,
successfully reaching the masses,
and my government doesn't tolerate this.
Since I'm too on this list, I must now live a life of complete isolation,
and never break my code, Trust No One.