Long Lopez Poems
Long Lopez Poems. Below are the most popular long Lopez by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lopez poems by poem length and keyword.
Goosies
Jennifer Lopez gets them a lot
when she listens to singers on American Idol.
Perhaps it happened to me a few times, but I can’t recall
the specific time that a song gave me the goosies.
Those crazy little pimples above which the hairs stand erect
most usually on our arms
occur when people are moved by things:
music, dance, emotions.
Also things that creep us out or give us great fear
can give us the chills or goosebumps.
My mother used to say, “When you get a sudden chill
for no specific reason, it means that someone
just walked over your grave.”
That happened for me just a couple of times.
Maybe my future burial spot is a little bit remote!
As I think and think about it, I can recall at least one time
this strange phenomenon known as goosebumps
caused not just my arms, but nearly my entire body,
to resemble that of a plucked bird!
It was back in ‘74 and I was with a small group of students
visiting the coast of the Mediterranean Sea off Spain’s beautiful Valencia.
It was late winter (or perhaps very early spring).
All my life I wanted to say I had swum in a sea far from America!
Though the temperature was extremely cold for swimming,
I dared myself to venture out into the Mediterraean that day.
As the others in my group dared only to poke their toes into the ice-cold water,
I submerged my entire body. What a shock it was!
Nevertheless, for at least twenty minutes, I lay on my back,
letting my body float and float,
drifting with the tide while making sure to keep close by the shore.
When I noticed the group was wanting to leave, I swam back.
As I sat in the bus with a towel wrapped around me, I shivered uncontrollably
and my skin puckered up as the hairs rose up on both my legs and arms.
I had been foolish that day, but I felt proud to say
I had swum in the Mediterranean Sea.
Nov. 14, 2019 for the 'Goosebumps' Poetry Contest of Delilah Ventura
What causes crime? What’s the root cause?
Is it poverty’s weight or the system’s flaws?
Is it rebels rising against unjust fate?
Can social programs soften hate?
Lopez Obrador headed Mexico
He said "lets hug the thugs, not act like a foe"
Then 150 thousand innocents met their ends
And his party, Morena, made new bad guy friends.
"The breakdown of family" says William Barr
leads to more gangs, and juveniles going too far
He argues you can't make social ills cease
Unless you first have safety and peace.
Mothers in the projects prayed kids wouldn’t die,
Bathtubs were cradles when bullets flew by.
One woman spent months sleeping under her bed:
But bad ideas resurrect like the undead.
Does poverty cause crime, or the reverse?
Businesses leave danger, unemployment gets worse
A man tried rehabbing homes, it was well meant
Addicts ripped out the pipes; he never saw rent.
To give social programs a chance to work
You have to find where the criminals lurk
If a repeat offender feels the pain:
hundreds of crimes don't happen again.
Not every criminal is a good boy gone bad
Not every criminal is a rebel gone mad
Some people are nasty—it’s just how they’re made;
If you don’t stop them early, the problems won’t fade.
There's plenty of good neighborhoods that became a slum
If you clean out the crime, that could be undone.
Mayor Mamdani of New York wants to defund the police
His voters won't end up with justice or peace.
Then they'll run to Texas or Tennessee
And vote for the same policies that made them flee.
"What fools" said Shakespeare "these mortals be."
True compassion would not lead to cruelty.
What is this kidnapped nonsense when it comes to Maduro? The United States has never recognized Maduro as the rightfully elected President of Venezuela. Five years ago a judge in the Southern District of New York issued a warrant for his arrest, alleging Narco Drug Trafficking among other crimes. When the United States issues a warrant, for suspected crimes against its citizens, there are no borders -- no recognized safe havens in the world. If they can get to the suspect, they will. Maduro will be fairly tried in a court of law. 100,000 Americans died of drug overdoses last year. If anyone thinks that this is hilarious, which I have read in comments on Soup, they have a serious problem with right and wrong. If Democrats in the US Congress, do not like what Trump did, change the law. He is acting well within his rights as President of the United States. This type of Law Enforcement has been done by other US Presidents in the past. Nothing new here. What is new is, a Democrat Congress and Mainstream News Media, who seem to have lost their minds if not souls. If any opposition reading this, is into the bible, try reading the 9th commandment again. Let the legal system play out. As for the politics of oil, other natural resources, would you rather communist dictators remained in control, instead of transitioning all rights back to the citizens of a liberated Venezuela, restoring health and prosperity to a once very prosperous neighbor nation?
On January 10, 2025, the Biden administration bumped up the reward for information which would lead to Maduro’s arrest to $25 million. The reward was previously set at $15 million by the Trump administration. The Biden administration also announced at the time that it would be offering a $25 million reward for information which led to the capture of Dusisdadi Cabello, the country’s interior minister, a $15 million increase. In addition, a new $15 million reward was created for the detention of the country’s defense minister Vladimir Padrino Lopez. According to former Mayor of New York Eric Adams.
The fire burns deep within my heart
As ice forms on arms and limbs
The evil one approaches
With a smile and a knife
To be twisted in my stomach
The witch of Acambaro looks like an angel
But her dagger can pierce both heart and soul
She is the five Pillars
Darkness
Anger
Greed
Envy
Bitterness
Pilar Lopez Diablo
Raised by nuns, her values none
She spreads hers smile
For a few pesos
False hopes and empty dreams
She surely shall make you scream
Bury me naked, if you must
Wear a black veil, you stole my trust
Draw blood and make me swim in my own juices
I shall float in my bloody pain
On the Día de Muertos
I shall sing back to you
Oh Catrina, lady of the dead
You lie tormented
For you have all of me in blood
Except my heart
Notes:
La Calavera Catrina ('Dapper Skeleton', 'Elegant Skull'
The “Day of the dead” can be traced back to the Aztec festival dedicated to the goddess Mictecacihuatl. Catrina would be the modern name of this God.
The wretched wearers of this mound of shoes who once walked free,
And enjoyed The Creator's munificence, life and pursuit of liberty,
Are now but scattered ashes with their shoes cast in a gruesome heap,
By ruthless and mocking tyrants who considered life so very cheap.
To the "showers" men, women and children were shamelessly led,
Unaware of what they faced when their clothing and shoes were shed.
With the promise that "Work Will Set You Free", they were deceived.
Their brutish oppressors cared not one whit that they were aggrieved.
What might these souls have become had fate not dealt them so;
A doctor, a scientist, a teacher? Alas, we shall never know.
We must never forget and that macabre heap of shoes should remind
Future generations of the cruelty that was perpetrated upon humankind.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Placed No. 7 in Abe Lopez' "Innocent Leather" Contest - June 2010
"I'll take you," said Lopez, "to the man who
"has tormented you since you were 42
You'll see his face, you'll get to speak—
"But don't try anything, he's strong and you're weak."
So we went down the big hall, to the underground caves
We went miles into the caverns, under old graves
And there was nemesis, not like a TV show
He spoke like a child, with a strange mad glow.
He looked thin and young, innocent with no guile
But there was something gone, missing in his smile
He could torture you for ages, as an joyful afterthought
A part of his soul gone, in that vacuum I'd been caught.
I lunged at him, hoped to grab his neck
A gas knocked me out, left me quite the wreck
I awoke in my bed, leg twisted and sore,
Lopez stood silent, eyes fixed on the floor.
I grabbed Lopez, I said "Thanks anyhow"
"I imagined someone else, but I know now"
"It's the splintered mind, the fracture inside
For his broken brain I had to take my dark ride."
Lopez just nodded: “Evil comes in all forms.
"If they notice you, you’re a boat in a storm.
"Life’s more dangerous than people believe—
"Evil morphs and will always deceive."
I could swear Lopez's hard face was wet
I was hoping he could help, a way out yet
But he said "It’s too late—no hope in sight"
And he left me to my horror show, the sky an angry white.
Blackjack’s face held its dark glare,
he shook his head in disgust.
“We rode all this way, and your great ‘treasure’
is some moldy old paper and dust?”
He slowly moved his hand towards his gun,
but besides him a short man spoke low:
“The mayor may be a drunk but he will act
if we leave his only clerk to the crows.”
Blackjack looked to his fellow thug,
then shrugged and ruffled through his bags,
He took out two sticks of dynamite,
and said,”Well I guess that’s just too bad.
“I’d really like to fill this fool with lead,
for leading us out this wild chase.
Guess I’ll have to settle for seeing his face
as his ‘endless history’ gets erased!”
Gil surged forwards, but Lopez cracked him
over the head with the butt of his gun.
He fell to the ground, left to lie out
in the harsh, endless desert sun.
He heard a dull blast as he slowly awoke,
and though bleary eyes saw rock tumble.
In a flash of fire and a cloud of debris,
the cave groaned then suddenly crumbled.
Gil got to his feet, now all alone,
and looked around at what remained.
A single scrap of paper lay on the ground
where Lopez had dropped it in a rage.
Gil picked it up and stared up at
the rock-choked, blast-strewn slope.
He felt his breath seize in his lungs,
he cried out, knowing there was no hope…
For months he sulked over the loss,
drinking at Buck’s more than the mayor.
Such a discovery lost to a damned thug,
the thought filled a man with despair.
When a year had passed he showed up on day
at the saloon, shaved, coiffed, and upbeat.
He ordered not a drink, but pulled up next
to a cowboy and helped himself to a seat.
The puncher looked confused, especially when
Gil pulled out a pen and then smiled:
“Cowboy I’ll pay for all of your drinks,
If you’ll talk with me for a while.
“I’m here to record the tales of our time,
Be they crazy or exciting or boring.
You look like the type with some things to stay,
So cowboy, tell me your story…”
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
659.
The 4th Period of the Spanish Era of Philippine History:
Reform Movement
With the coming of liberalism into the archipelago
The natives & the creoles developed the concept of “Filipino”
And after the Cavite Mutiny & the Martyrdom of Gomburza
Those who called themselves “Filipinos” resorted to Propaganda
The Propagandists were composed of educated individuals
They were from the middle class & elite intellectuals
Among them were Marcelo Del Pilar & Graciano Lopez Jaena
Jose Rizal, Mariano Ponce, Pedro Paterno & Juan Luna
They worked both individually & as a group that converges
They circulated publications & organized masonic lodges
La Solidaridad became the main publication of the Propaganda
Masonic lodges included Asociacion Hispano-Filipino & La Liga Filipina
They sought a compact, vigorous & homogeneous Filipino nation
Being granted protection against violence, injustice & discrimination
They wanted the Filipinos in Spanish Cortes to be represented
Having the Philippine archipelago into Spain as its province assimilated
This is the 4th Period of Spanish Era – Reform Movement
Unlike the revolts, this repercussion was not bloody & violent
With this, the Filipinos went against Spain by paper & pen
God portrayed the Filipinos to the world as erudite men.
-05/16/2019
*Periods on the Eras of the Philippine History
Not only is he my friend;
He’s the Mayor of my hometown.
His eyes oversee the place,
That I so love to be around.
Whether it’s canvas or a page,
He graces it with artistic hands.
Bringing out his desired emotions,
That his patient heart commands.
With a love for teaching art,
His creative mind explores.
And amps up all who know him,
To want to accomplish more.
We have the same passion,
In the landscapes that we shoot.
And have our haiku sessions,
And post them on Poetry Soup.
He has a vast love for helping,
And dabs carpentry.
He gives his best to the canvas,
And to the stanzas of his poetry.
His giving heart keeps giving,
And he loves it, is what he says.
He’s a master of the short form,
And his name is Abe Lopez.
________________________
For Abe Lopez, a fellow souper
and friend for his support on and off
Poetry Soup, God bless you.