Long Martin Poems
Long Martin Poems. Below are the most popular long Martin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Martin poems by poem length and keyword.
Mornings are made for paper and pens
In the hands of a would-be scribe,
At each day’s awakening between sun and shade
And silence is coming alive.
From out of the dark, the touch of a spark
Of light on the distant shore,
This time of day has always been made
For would-be scribes for sure.
When the mourning doves and whippoorwills
Begin their ritual songs of life
Of cooing, wooing and renewing
Everything in sound or sight.
And the would-be scribe tries not to hide
His or her thoughts too deep,
But let them all rise like dew in the sky
And eagles to snowy mountain peaks.
Let the words come forth
Like cool water from a riverbed,
Bringing thoughtfulness, kindness and ponderings
Wherever hearts and minds are led.
Let no one cease this ancient peace
Of writing in early hours,
The writer’s way of flying away
Turning tragedy and tears into wildflowers.
Let their words be heard and hearts be stirred
In the twilight of the day,
Excelsior to the would-be scribes
And all they have to say.
© Terrell Martin, 01/25/2025
St. Milt’s Grand Opening today
Come and celebrate with us
On Martin Luther King Day
Worldwide choirs and gospel music
Singing MLK’s best loved hymns
Mahalia Jackson, Nina Simon
It’s grand opening, today
“Poetry Kids” reciting poems
Perfect for honoring the mission
Of this humble man, preacher, and scholar
It’s Martin Luther King Jr. Day
Celebrate the great works he
Did for the Civil Rights Movement
Come and see our gallery
Recitals of Dr. King’s “We Shall Over Come”
“The Dream” his glorious words
That all men are created equal
Representing love and non-violence
We are serving MLK’s favorite foods
MLK was a minister, father, husband
And a son of the South
Here are the foods he loved to eat
Classic Southern foods we all love
A big Sunday meal
Southern delicacies
Fried Chicken
Sweet Potatoes
Pickled Eggs
Smothered Steak
Macaroni and Cheese
Collard Greens
Warm buttermilk cornbread
Quilly-Dr. King’s mother’s recipe
Pecan Pie
Where do we go from here?
Dr. King because of you, we are
Fairer and freer than in your time
Bigotry began to fade
More justice for all
Progress has been made
Dr. Martin Luther King,
You’ll march on in our spirits
Dr. Martin Luther King`s dream lives on
Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend--Martin Luther King Jr.
In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends—Martin Luther King Jr.
THROUGH THE STORM...
Strange fruits no longer hang
from trees; they’re boxed and stored:
seeds left behind lie rotting in blood soaked streets.
Yet we have overcome the poverty of spirit
and still march in solidarity with a world imbued
with the blankets of fear and bleak confusion of purpose.
Today, the circadian rhythms of time weave us together
breaking bartered bleak silence of moral purpose
eviscerated by deceit: crusades and jihads are not the lessons
of the Shamans, Gandhi, Martin and Malcolm (Imam); nor what the Dali
and Pope would wish upon the human race. No! Let's not be victims
of the acid of despair; neither of the venom of those who say they don’t care:
Rest assured Brothers and Sister of the world, the time of martyrs
will not be bastardized; the blooded juice of strange fruits
will not be comprised; nor their seeds eradicated.
While sitting, standing, shouting and marching
along the river banks of history, there's no dam of injustice
the blood flowing waters of liberty cannot and will not overcome.
Though our feet be tired and our souls be weary,
let the world continue the prophet's march...marching
through the howling winds of pain---the jostling storms
of adversity...our faith stamping out the whirlwind of despair;
our bruised hearts stirring up warm breezes of spiraling hope:
nourishing bleeding wombs of peace, love and unity.
Peering from Behind the Plume
A verbal sketch by Martin Braun
June 15, 2020
Peering from behind the plume
witnessing my brethren lofting from ethereal vapors.
Who shall share our divine song?
Not I!
Who shall sit on the right side, with you at my left?
Not I!
Look below, their gaze is transfixed on my wonderous down,
and enchanted by my song.
Holy, holy, holy I shall sing, not for God,
but for vanity that harmony my voice doth bring.
Laced with apples that you desire,
I serenade the Gospel entwine with earthly eloquence,
and lick your lobe evoking emotional undulations from head to toe.
I seduce you in God's own house, not for His glory but my own,
for it is my desire to sit up high, on the thrown.
Let the world burn, what do I care.
From the ashes, I will rise, from their dispair.
And your lives, I will surely protect,
who else will remain for my worship and pay their debt?
Life was never boring,
Selling roses from my shop,
You were invited to visit and
You’d learn men’s secret affections.
The first to arrive was the usual fare
A well-built hunk of a man.
Tall, dark and handsome that women adore.
Twelve orange ones, he asked.
Amazed I wondered what he had in mind,
Must be a new fling no doubt.
For orange means enthusiasm and desire.
He knew well the language of sweet buds.
A newbie arrived, so shapely and cordial
A lady I knew not I was sure of it,
As she asked for a bunch of yellow blossoms.
This feeling was so hard to explain
For yellow stands for many things
Joy, gladness, friendship, Welcome Back,
Remember me, or ”I care".
Tommy, the shy one, tip toped inside,
As usual he chose the lovely pink.
It was his way to say thanks and hope
That she will always believe in him.
A couple of coral ones, how abrupt Peter was.
He knew they meant desire never lasting love.
I’d rather he never entered my oasis
For all he deserved was arid sand not bliss.
Martin was next, and how he beamed.
It was love at first sight, said he.
So I suggested as I knew,
That a lavender rose would please her most.
My friend Elise had made a coup.
So I gave her a bunch of mixed flowerets.
Peach for appreciation and white for purity.
Wasn’t Elise delighted that day?
It was almost time, needed to close shop.
When the outside door opened for the last time.
The lady I had seen early that day returned.
“You did not like my flowers?” I asked.
She nodded and then stuttering said:
“My mum has died. Just one black rose please.”
I don’t know why a tear trickled down my face.
MLK day on every third Monday of January
Remember his sermons daily though you celebrate him annually
Before that balcony where the bullet sent his blood flowing like a stream
He had shared his famous words, "I have a dream."
He was no swindler looking for a benefactor
He was a visionary of a coming judgment by the content of character
Though through life his struggle never eased
He spoke of thankfully saying "If I sneezed."
The times were tense and highly racial
But today MLK's words are revered and held special
By all from all walks of life
To quell America anytime it's threatened with strife
Since then the colour of a man's skin is a little less sinister
But still far from the envisioned end of the baptist minister
The law says "equal" but perceptions linger of the otherwise
Many only suppress their hearts and wear pretence and disguise
The change of the atmosphere is yet to cause a change of hearts
Every verbal ceasefire being followed by some demeaning dart
If the God of Love inspired Dr. King
Disobeying evil law to entrench good without a spring
Then let God's moral standard be our guide
Let the law not give some too much to take in a stride
If God made them all and saw that it was good
Let not their appearance alter your mood
K. Muitherero.
HERO DAY
From the depths of history, their stories unfold,
Of black men and women with spirits untold,
In defiance of chains, they rose above,
Their hearts relentless, fueled by love.
African kings and queens, proud and revered,
Adorned with grace, their power endeared,
Leading their people, with wisdom profound,
In the face of oppression, their courage resound.
Through the darkness of the Middle Passage,
They carried hope amidst a barbaric rampage,
Spirits unbowed, though shackled in chains,
They saw the light, as liberation rains.¹²
From Harriet Tubman's guiding light,
To Frederick Douglas, marinating insight,
They fought for justice, their souls ablaze,
Braving dangers, in emancipation's maze.
The echoes of Sojourner's words ring true,
"Am I not a human, deserving rights too?"
Disrupting conventions, they questioned it all,
Their voice a clarion, tearing down walls.²°
Astride the saddle, majestic and strong,
Buffalo Soldiers, their honour belongs,
Protecting the frontier with unyielding might,
They battled adversity and darkness took flight.
In Montgomery, a humble seamstress arose,
Rosa Parks, unwavering, her bravery shows,
With courage on her side, she took her stand,
Reclaiming her dignity, a symbol in her hand.
Martin Luther King Jr., a visionary light,
His dream etched in hearts, day and night,³°
With words as his weapon, love as his shield,
He shattered barriers, equality revealed.
So, let us pay homage to the valiant hearts,
Who bridged the bondage and mount heights
Their heroics celebrated, their stories embraced,
In their triumphs, the spirit of freedom is traced.
"Hero Day" we name it, with honor and cheer,
A dedication to the heroes, far and near,
For their bravery, their triumphs we hail,
In unity, their legacy shall forever prevail.4°
Dedicated to: African-Americans and Africans in diaspora
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
Copyright ©? November 2023.
Chorus
Never give up or
Put yourself down
Never hate this
Tis just for loves
Never wake up be a dreamer
Till your dream your life
Verse 1
Don’t pinch me
this dream
This cars
this house just for me
am joseph better coat
finer things stain my soul
j s on designer sole
made for the shine like a mirror
about the money like a banker
straws to all my haters
so y all can suck it
money talks
cheddah in my hands
Im holding conversation
So good a dirty mind
You cant brain wash
Your god deleted you
now you are not saved
Believe in you then
Get money till they say amen
Dad says its never too late till you dead
I cant ever be the late
So I
Work and work and work
And I
Chorus
Verse 2
Don’t pinch me
This moment
This feeling
This crown
Just for me
Am martin luther
Better style
Am no hoe land
Even with a dyke
You wont stop my flow
Always do it for you
or you get a crown of thorns
They will stab you in the back
if you save em all
like the joker keep smilling
please my heart keep beating
where is my throne
needs titling
lost my mind
quit looking
if its love keep falling
always keep time
like your life
don’t waste it
find yourself or you lose your chance for greatness
it’s a marathon till you run the world
so run and run and run
and please
chorus
bridge
everyone goes to sleep
but all don’t dream
you are special
may your work make men and angels cry
when it gets so hard like constipation
when the suns up high and its all trepidation
looking for salvation
and all is damnation
sleep honey
dream darling
and please honey
chorus *2
SOUNDCLOUD:https://soundcloud.com/moses-c-chach
Dr. Martin Luther King is one of my heroes, and a spiritual guide.
I feel he is giving me ideas from beyond the veil, and I pay attention
Our connection is real, and mystical. I knew this as a child.
I visited his church in Atlanta, Georgia and his sermons were piped in.
When I heard him, I began to cry. He has had a profound effect on me.
I remember watching him on TV as a child, and wondering why ….
Why everyone did not feel like he did.
Why some people wanted to bomb churches and kill children.
Why everyone did not want word peace?
Dr. King brought Gandhi’s teachings to our hemisphere.
He believed in doing the right thing, he was righteous.
He was faithful, and good. A marvelous man, charismatic too.
He led peaceful marches, always advocating unity, peace and love.
Maybe because he was a minister’s son.
Maybe because he was a minister.
Maybe because he was super intelligent.
But I think it was because God had his hands on his shoulders.
Leading him.
I will never forget the feelings that came over me that day.
In Dr. King’s childhood church, when I heard his voice again.
I was overcome with happiness. Pure joy. He was an angel.
On earth, and now he is one in heaven. Advocating peace.
Happy Birthday Dr. King, I love you!
Written By: D. Collins 7/1/23
No one can re-write what I can regurgitate.
Which is being a Black Man in the United States.
Born and raised, so I bring it firsthand.
Only those in my shoes can feel where I am.
Does teaching of Pangaea land a parent in jail?
Speaking of Malcolm X, will it get you no bail?
Uttering Martin Luther King might get you the maximum?
In which time handed down includes your great, grandson?
Well, if I get locked up because they want me on the low.
Generations after me will have it long, before I go.
A lot of black students won't attend universities.
Because of wordsmithing it's called "Diversity".
There were only Black Souls who died clearing the fields.
Now, newcomers are stepping up to claim the yield.
Yeah, Li'L Homey, I'm here to tell you no lie.
As long as I'm living Black History won't die.
I will teach them of Jimi Hendrix, who played upside down.
Even give them a little taste of some Louie Armstrong.
I stand convicted, willing to do my time.
As long as Black History never dies....