Long Media Poems
Long Media Poems. Below are the most popular long Media by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Media poems by poem length and keyword.
There’s really nothing real in the human reality
consumers in costumes fake personalities
skin colour hair colour forged by chemicals
superficial mammals protest tests on animals
a world organic we cover up in suits
the panic to cover natural hair roots
kidding the truth in high heeled boots
confidence found in silicone boobs
media perceptions false accents
a need for acceptance fools acting
a little is sweet but a lot is not
a lot there is and natural forgot
are people embarrassed by their true self
so insecure they parade something else
the image of society somewhat unnatural
yet we naturally act unnatural and it's factual
PEACE ?
There’s peace in Northern Ireland, a smile comes to my face
Some well worn media phrasing, there’s no peace in this place
The hatred still is palpable, the twain shall never meet
Divisions that are influenced, by the political elite
Opposing ideologies, with religion at its core
Struggling for supremacy, in a bitter cultural war
With two tier education, so the children cannot mix
An antiquated system, which they’ll never ever fix
The undercurrent of savagery is rarely far away
It’s been that way from ancient times, until the present day
That murky world of politics, where they always try and fail
Where deals are done in private, behind the secret veil
Held up as a precedent, for all the world to see
How little Ulster saved itself, from a life of misery
We listen to the sound bites; each day’s a brand new start
Yet our celebrated peace walls, keep communities apart
Last night I slept
And last night I dreamt
Of what has come and gone
And that which is to come
It was a revelation
Of an impending revolution
The dream made me to dream
The dream is my dream
I saw my kinsmen in chains
In foreign lands
I saw them in pains
Working their oppressors' lands
There were times there were tired
But were deprived of rest
So they worked without getting tired
Unhappily doing their best
Then I saw the same people
Who came to us like eagle
And took our kinsmen from us
In our own land oppressing us
We became slaves in our own land
We were oppressed in our fatherland
But when the yoke was too much for us to bear
We fought and gained freedom
The dream I have for my nation
Is bigger than I can say
And this is my aspiration
To be the change all the way
I have my inspiration
From the heroes of yesterday
Who heaped up motivation
To outlive everyday
I see people everywhere
With middle fingers in the air
Curses fill the atmosphere
'cause life itself isn't fair
My biggest dream for my nation
Yea, my biggest aspiration
Is for everyman in my nation
To be his brother's inspiration.
Written by Kanu Ekpezu
© Laureates' Media 2018
Girls like me..
We grow up on the outside looking in.
Begging, pleading, hoping that there is somewhere we’ll fit in.
Girls like me..
Don’t get the magical ending.
With big white houses and picket fences.
No one looks at us with envy,
And we wonder.
Is there something wrong with me?
Is there something I should be doing different?
Because the girls we see in the media that don’t have scars.
They don’t have stray hairs, or stretch marks.
But look closely and their eyes are hollow.
There’s nothing there,
they know nobody cares.
The only purpose they serve in this world is to be pleasurable to the eye.
To be the prize for some guy.
But still.
Theres girls like me.
The outside looking in,
Wondering when
It will be our turn.
We have fed, wooed, wined and dined a stray dog for two days.
My husband Joe, who is a sucker for dogs, named him Brownie.
This stray, Brownie loved our dog Buddy and Buddy loved him.
Buddy kept inviting him into the house by way of doggy door.
Social media helped us help Brownie find his owner yesterday.
He was a pit bull, and his name is Blue. I was scared of him.
His owners collected him at ten o’clock last night.
Another good neighbor came down and corralled him for me.
Buddy spent all day today looking for his friend.
I finally told Buddy that Brownie had found his Mommy.
I think he understood because he settled down after that.
Blue had broken his chain during those danged fireworks.
Though discriminatory asper discerning
legitimate information TIME
Magazine considered
a reliable trustworthy,
and valuable source to this rhyme
stir, who perused cover story, sans
January 28th, 2019 issue as prime
material to concoct
more serious than amusing
poem mindful not to spoil mealtime
sharing insightful ruses not so sublime
utilizing underhanded tactics that chime
with markedly innocuous discordant
undertones for longtime
(within realm of information technology)
garnering bajillion zeroes
after face value of dime
(I chose that denomination...
just book haws), suit clime
mate here, plus yours truly
aspired to fuel inquisitiveness,
since text unable to display mime
relayed by this messenger,
who questions gravity of crime
head honcho blithely
involving selling personal data
thus affecting prospects of incipient wartime.
every keystroke action typed by me,
and everybody else linkedin into web
foregoes their life details free
for selling treasured binary binded bits we
bull leave tubby encrypted, yet algorithms
invested with secret electron size key
sophisticated to sniff out valuable trove
within every pixel typed into ever re:
screen of every Internet app pre
pair ring the equivalent
of voluminous dossier lee
ving nary a trace, yet data packets
more precious than fine spun gold,
invisible electronic bursts glee
fully swept up like nobody's business – see
ming to provide a wellspring
of many a cottage industry
similar to a pugilist on par with Muhammad Ali
generating revenue, and
driving profits with accessory
trinkets or gewgaws hyped up as de
facto plum purchases, perhaps purchased online
whereat vendor (unbeknownst to patron) sells
vital transaction information to data broker he
or she obviously for a price - yes our SECURITY!
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.
Hannah Crockroft has cerebral palsy from her birth,
And having CP myself, she’s kind of special to me,
Because CP is not derided anymore, much, as alien,
But is called brain damage, not your own currency.
She was born on the 30th July 1992, West Yorkshire,
In Halifax, and fought two cardiac arrests after birth,
The doctors said she’d never walk, talk, and function,
Or outlive her teens: but you just determine yourself.
She did lots of school sports and made the talent day,
By the BPA at that good old sports and tech university,
Loughborough, where she met Tanni Grey’s husband,
Dr Ian Thomson, who made her into racing authority.
She’s a wheelchair racer in the T34 class of sprints.
Her father, who she’s very close to and is a welder,
Built her first racing chair which was fast and neat:
He takes her out every morn on the Yorkshire felder.
At the Worlds 2011, in Christchurch in New Zealand,
Hannah won gold in both the 100 and the 200 metres,
And then, the Hurricane spry in 2012 London scored,
When she took gold in these two events again - litres!
She took gold at Lyon at the IPC Worlds, two, 2013,
Then in Swansea at the Euros she again took two,
And then 2015 at the Worlds in Doha she won three,
And now at Rio in the Paras she’s homed three due.
She breaks all the records with WRs, ERs and PRs,
Demolishing her personal best most times to achieve,
Ahead by 10 metres, 6, or even 4, she’s my stat hero,
And studies sports and media at university, to sleeve.
Rhoda Monihan
_________
I am extremely sad about the tragic accident which happened today in the cycling road race at Rio on a downhill stretch of the course. Iranian cyclist Bahman Golbarnezhad, aged 48, died of a cardiac arrest which he suffered in the ambulance after sustaining a brain injury when he crashed. My thoughts and love are with his family and friends. He leaves behind a wife and a son.
We’re surrounded by hate these days…people with diametrically opposed views…
It streams across our social media…its shown daily on the evening news…
If we are to believe these outlets…hate is all around…
Looking at our politics, Israel and Palestine, Ukraine and Russia
there’s a lot of hate to go around.
But at the same time when I look around my neighborhood
What I often see…are simple acts of kindness, compassion, good will and generosity.
I see them every day when I’m behind the counter at the bookstore…
random act of kindness…something as simple as opening a door.
When a person opens a door for a stranger…a metamorphosis takes place.
Whatever their expression was before the door…there’s now a smile on each face.
When a door is held open for someone…
a ripple…an unspoken message has been sent…
which often leads to a smile, a thank you…and many times a compliment.
And I like to think each ripple of kindness…like opening a door
reminds everyone who’s watching…what we were created for…
Created for simple acts of kindness…the beauty is we never really know…
how meaningful one act can be…how far one ripple of kindness will go.
If we’re lucky it may travel all the way to our politicians…
may help to ease their mutual disdain…
It may travel as far as Israel, Palestine, Russia…and Ukraine.
Because when we open a door…
whether you open one for me…or I open one for you
There’s no way of ever knowing
how many people will walk through.
Which makes me wonder…
If more people opened doors for one another…
If one simple act of kindness we all choose….
Perhaps one day only acts of kindness will be found on social media
and show up on the evening news.
I bought Trumps book of poems, yes it's true
And I really think you should get one too
Because you just don't know
When tissue stocks get low
So, keep a copy of it in your loo...
Trump sent kamala his poetry book
Said she'll have plenty time to take a look
Her wonky Kitchen table
Is now quite firm and stable
Kamala was pleased it no longer shook...
Tom Cunningham
If I’m ever gifted soup’s book
I wouldn’t even take a look
I’d rip out poems by “Trump”
For use after I dump
The theme is pure gobbledygook...
Jan Allison
I'd use Trump's pages to wipe my hiney
And keep my toilet bowl quite shiny
Not a word would I read
About his need for greed
He's not a poet; he's too whiney...
Lin Lane
Trump's new book of poems is a farce
He can't write a poem from his a r s e
Fake poems galore
Are all just a bore
His poetry book fans will be sparse...
Tania Kitchin
Donald Trump is down and singing the blues
Seeing his poetry going down loos
The thought of success
Had gone to his head
Now his ego is definitely bruised...
Beryl Edmonds
Written by Trump’s own hand
Is a fairytale about finance
His poetry book
For crooks to cook
Up a USA scammer plan...
Karen Jones
Donald Trump is now the new boss,
Those Demo-Craps are paying the cost,
Trump stuck to his guns,
And finally won,
Fake news spread by the media lost.
John Read