Long Manchester Poems
Long Manchester Poems. Below are the most popular long Manchester by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Manchester poems by poem length and keyword.
Stilled again across the canals broadening
Girth;
Mesh cages of rock-filled Gabions
Reinforcing patches of exposed and arid earth,
Reflecting the glints that gleefully
Twist and dance in the hot glare of the sun...
Provoking images and stirring indefinable feelings
That begin to irrevocably up and run;
Pictures and voices crowding into my mind:
Immersing me in the flooding moments
To which i am briefly resigned.
Now momentarily staid by the shimmering
Instance
In which i find myself inextricably caught,
Perplexed by something rather intangible,
Seeming almost to tease and laugh
Whilst confounding upon my evasive and
Fleeting thoughts;
As glancing across at the opposite bank
Where drawn up a line of densely packed trees..
I swore...I heard the reel of a high squealing
Fiddle -
Playing ever so briefly alongside a tricky little
Breeze.
For stood there I, wondering,
On a grey painted swing-bridge:
Of brightly painted Steamers, dirty Trampers
And of double masted white canvassed Brigs.
Oh! The everlasting glory of a New World order
Redefined:
Entrusted to those instructed in her Majesties
Construction of sprawling Victorian sublimes!
The men who heroically dug, picked, blasted and
Strove:
To securely fasten an Iron cast girdle around
An ever diminishing blue globe.
Dreaming of long ago, dutiful, Golden-Age days
Rigorously pursued down, what are now,
Weed strewn, abandoned byways.
Faustian clothing and a Velveteens cap;
The thick buckled leather gaiters held about
By the strap.
Many the word spoken in a soft southern brogue:
All hail the glorious navigators -
The navvies of old!
Staunch and desperate men forced to resign
Their native Gaelic shores
And burden unto themselves with
Mattocks, shovels and garishly painted-up whores.
Under the high flaming beacons
And over the obscure little brow -
They carved out the new waterways
To float the laden down prow.
Yes! Men of the Emerald Isles
I salute you and your kinsfolk
From lands cast westwards afar:
The magnificent "Paddies" from the verdant island -
Of Erin-Go-Bragh!
Manchester, Manchester please dont cry
How I wish, I could wipe your watery eyes
These images I see terrifies me
Mothers in mourning,fathers are broken
Manchester, Manchester please dont cry
Families are hurting
Cities in fear
Nations uprooting, religon dividing
Policitians deciding, the world waring
Manchester, Manchester keep the faith
These souls that were taken will surely fly
Heaven is awaiting
Manchester, Manchester hear these words
Angels are descending
The gates are opening
Manchester , Manchester we hear your cries
Your heart is shattered
Your faith is broken
Mercy surely will be knocking
The light is shaded
The darkness has come
Manchester , Manchester dont be saden
Jesus will be craddling
The dead are only sleeping.
The north of England,
Is without a doubt,
A massive community,
That is paramount.
It’s a place where people,
Express their talent,
A place where people,
Should go if they haven’t.
A magical place,
Of women and men,
With the angel of the north,
Instead of the Big Ben.
We have some memories,
Unique to the world,
The Blackpool tower,
Where the dancers all twirled.
Oasis, stone roses,
Arctic monkeys, twisted wheel,
The north has a taste,
With a very strong appeal.
Black pudding,
Blackpool rock,
I tell you now,
We have the lot.
We have musicians,
Painters with talent,
We have good chefs,
There’s nothing that’s absent.
The north of England,
An extraordinary place,
If you come to visit,
There will be a smile on your face.
From Newcastle to Manchester,
Liverpool to Leeds,
There’s a city or town,
To fill all of your needs.
As Manchester say,
That we stand together,
All the north are the same,
For now and forever.
by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015
I loved to go camping in the Isle of Man,
Steam Packet leaving Liverpool at 12 am
arriving at Douglas at 6 in the morning,
see the Douglas Horse Drawn Tram, just as the day was dawning
coming down the Promenade, as the boat arrived
Picking up the people, it was great to be alive
We used to camp on Onchan Head, with a view of Douglas Bay
We’d pitch our tents, and set up camp, and then be on our way
down the Douglas Promenade, it was time for us to play
Sit on the beach in deckchairs, check the girls as they walked by
Jump on and off the Horse Drawn Trams, I can’t remember why
then at night time go to dances, the days just seemed to fly
two weeks without a worry, 14 days without a care
Drinking beer and whisky shorts with the Scots who gathered there
Then holiday time was over, we had to go back home
strike camp, and clear the area, till next time we could roam
Say goodbye to friends we’d made, then catch the Packet back
heading home to Manchester, and get our life on track
Towers and showers
You fall then you rise
Making love to the clouds
It's mundane you despise
Let's cut to the chase
Keep our words short today
I'm proud of this city
Perhaps 'nice one' you'd say
I think you are awesome
In the day or the night
As the faces peer up
Or peek out to the sight
Of industrious city
Laced with tramways and cars
With it's heroes and humour
Or it's battle strewn scars
On the surface you're hard
Always up for a fight
Dig deeper.. discover
A heartbeat, you might
Whether homeless or minted
Perhaps just passing through
Our Mancunian spirit
Is now running through you.
Jonnie Peacock was born on 28th May in 1993,
And is an English sprinter and right leg amputee,
He won gold in the vital games of London 2012,
And into the category T44 he does neatly delve.
He was born in Cambridge, that old university town,
But at the age of 5 meningitis did make him frown,
So he asked his hospital for some football facilities,
Who gave him a prosthetic for his lively jocularities.
Directed to Paralympic sport, he did truly awaken,
To running the 100 metres, and he was totally taken,
Not faking, he raced at the Paralympic World Cup,
His first international, in Manchester, he did build up.
Next month June, the US Paralympic trials do occur,
Jonnie set a record time of 10.85 to squarely concur,
With his coach Dan Pfaff, who believed he could win,
At the London Paralympics, where we saw him grin!
He came with murderous intent
To the Manchester Arena he went
His heart full of vitriol and hate
With a bomb to seal their fate
I wonder if he thought at all
About the kids that there would fall
I don't believe in his hate filled brain
He thought about the grief and pain
They came to laugh and dance and sing
To see their idol was their thing
When young you have no fear of death
No thought of taking your last breath
That mindless man took their lives
Left grieving parents, husbands, wives
He took their lives but not our hope
Because we have learned to cope
We aren't beaten we aren't cowed
We are unbroken we wont be bowed
He made us determined strengthened too
We wont give up we will pull through
May the spirit of Manchester live in us all
We will stand firm we will stand tall
So send your bombs we aren't afraid
We aren't beat down we aren't dismayed
We will not hear your futile threats
You will not leave us with regrets
So bring it on let the war begin
Its already lost you will not win
Now they've come to London town
On London Bridge they mowed them down
Seven more innocent lives they shed
Eight minutes later they too were dead
Lets not forget the Westminster one
Lets not forget what he has done
Though he inflicted grief and pain
He died for nothing he died in vain
Manchester, Paris, London too
We stand together to defy you
One day you'll realise its too late
You wont infect us with your hate
Denis Briggs May 2017
He was the copilot of a passenger plane
He stabbed the pilot, but he wasn't insane
He meant to crash the plane, wanted everyone to die
Because it was going to Israel, from Muslim Dubai.
He was a Palestinian Arab, driving a car.
Drove it into a bus stop, where Jews are.
Teen girl in serious condition, blood and pain
He was shot dead, but he won, such a shame.
The Eagles of Death had a Metal concert in France
Real death came; Muslim terror took the chance.
Shot 90 there, and killed other people same day
What is this hatred, why must infidels pay?
Manchester teens flocked to hear Ariana Grande
But a suicide bomber extended terrors long hand.
His bomb was full of nails, imagine the hate behind.
The ideology, the righteous wrath, the corrupted mind.
In that blast died Liam, Chloe, Eilidh, Megan, and Neil.
Do you care, do you remember, do you put up a shield?
And the guy who drove his truck on New York's bicycle path
Walkers and cyclists had to die for his wrath.
And the fellow who drove a truck into partiers in New Orleans
Bodies thrown into the air, a horror movie scene
Terrence and Hubert, Kareem and LaTasha, Martin and Nicole
I never knew them, but my blood runs cold.
The Boston Marathon ran to hell
Bombs planted with steel shrapnel
The bombers took the Afghanistan side
Krystie, and Lu, and an eight-year-old died
Then they shot Sean of the MIT police
Multiple bullets, his life had to cease
Dennis Simmonds took a year to fade
They had hit him with a hand grenade.
Some people had to have limbs amputated
A reminder of being hated
An endless fountain of unfair motivation
evil, deluded men, I despise their frustration.
We have a right to life, liberty and happiness pursuit
If a man comes to end this, we have to shoot.
There is no safety for good men but to assume
That evil has no limits and desires our doom.
They came from all over - Manchester, Derby
and. Connemara - icons, O'Toole, Bates and Finney,
who would believe the power of future stars,
although they spent their time fighting in bars.
RADA was a dream, a long way from country,
Reed and Marvin muscled in with Shaw and Connery,
Caine gave a sleepy-eyed look for mystery,
while Mitchum was instructed in English history.
Imagine King Henry sending 'Alfie' to the tower,
whilst Connery, Reed and Bates began to cower,
although the former pair wrestled in front of a fire,
If you didn't enjoy 'Women In Love,' you were a liar.
When Reed had his nose in a variety of *****,
O'Toole was enthralling us as Lawrence of Arabia.
Just got back from Manchester Arena
Went to go and see Depeche Mode live in Concert
In what was only a few months back
A suicide bombers graveyard
A crime scene for taken departed teens
But tonight the only screams
Were of unbridled joy
I only pray the dead can hear
That they still live in here
And feed off the love
Of the fan's and band who play
Every clapping hand stomping foot
I hope they approve
I hope they have found peace
I hope they look over the living
I hope they are in paradise
I hope it was worth your sacrifice
I hope you enjoyed tonight as much as I did
The show must go on
And your memory will never be gone