Long Migration Poems
Long Migration Poems. Below are the most popular long Migration by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Migration poems by poem length and keyword.
Listen to sterile silence
nursing homebound fans
wavering white noiselessness
of silent futile passing
Absence of passion
hope
care
happiness
or creased
and reasoned
nearing deceased sadness.
Hear this void of madness,
lack of hunger
or parched thirst
for conversation
splendid nutrition
scandalous emission
empowering immigration
enlightened emigration
or angry fear emanation
of forced solitude migration
Into mortal loss
of sensory reception
political deception
economic perception
theistic inception
septic conception.
Smell nothing.
Taste everything
becomes dust
delustered rust
lust for transcendent
disembodied consummation
omnipresent transportation
omniscient evaporation
full latitude
for fragrance-free
plastic platitudes
feckless attitudes
disdainful blows
against further fertile emanations.
Sing where nothing
settles into rounding octave rings
to never
ever want to dance
in robust spirals
forming springs
Against depressions
felt repressions
thought impressions
known suppressions
unheard deflation
worn through integration
transcultural conflation
Of pantheistic elegant circling Zeroes
absorbed by a monstrous
monopolistic silent
slick supreme One
Listening to sterile silence
nursing homebound fans,
white emptiness
of silent
restless passing.
Glare at isolation.
Rake loneliness in.
Sleep with solitude
if you dare
to care
and share
yet without an inch
or squeezed moment
to spare.
"Heart heals with time, but it never forgets the memories you've made or how it felt when you embraced and loved those we lost." Quote by poet
Heartbroken.
I sit, my back against my headboard.
Sun sears out in a haze of throbbing pain.
Out the window, I vacantly stare,
oblivious to the fleeting of the world.
My thoughts off in a dream,
as clouds move along a flyway with the bird's migration.
By your side and sedated my soul longs to be.
Innocent. Bathing in the scent strawberries and warm cream.
Observing the leaves and shadows pirouette under the trees.
Etched still caresses as once we embraced.
A heartbroken stillness I grasp.
Cursing the ambience of our room;
you will never be coming back,
but you live on in my heart.
The Revving Roar of Rolling Thunder
Through the revving roar of Rolling Thunder,
amplifying along air and asphalt,
silent complacency’s cast asunder,
by the tour de force its riders exalt.
On roads and bridges, spectators await
the annual coast-to-coast migration
of Run For The Wall passing through their state
in tightly unified group formation.
Reflecting our country’s crossroads on chrome
the riders of Rolling Thunder emerge,
returning en mass to The Mall and Dome,
gathering strength as their chapters converge!
From Heartland to Beltway, we won’t forget
the debt we owe the American vet!
E. V. Wyler
Today's world is such a mess
With evils integration
We see daily the list of lies
Beyond investigation
And yet above us flies the flag
That denies lies infestation
Taking us where injustice cries
Of greeds determination
Education comes disguised
As honesties demonstration
Using tools that often deny
For the sake of ostracization
Giving reason to the words
Of prejudice inflammation
Joining ideals of false accusers
They invent instigation
We ask why the cause of certain ones
to have this type of fixation
The reason given this time around
Because of there migration
Quiet goes the unaware
Given to hesitation
While even comes to the extreme
Of the livings extermination
The bridge too far has been crossed
With flagrant allegations
Leaders are chosen and given charge
Of wild extreme vexations
But almost goes to the cause
Of evils infiltration
Thanks to God for concerns
We find through Revelation
Cold is the wind in Europe
It is a stormy evening brown leaves flying in the storm, they a
re dank and slimy, torn from the tree with no home to call
their own. I`m thinking of Macron, the president of France
He is extolling globalisation, I`m a nationalist I come from
a country that has naturally evolved has its own culture and
an unspoken agreement on how people should perform.
We don`t want a global nation with one culture one language,
one thought as dictated by a newspaper owned by the globalists.
It has been tried before under the dictatorship of Stalin.
Macron is, in the words of Oscar Wilde:” Deep down he is
a shallow thinker.”
Migrants are welcomed in my country if the can blend be as us
and not a confused mob demanding changes in the way
we have accepted the system as it is.
Mass migration is a manufactured phenomenon it could
be avoided by investing in the countries they hail from and
is political to sow discord in Europe.
We see how the USA a beacon democracy, has been turned
into a semi- tyranny helped by the opaque forces of Zionism
they want globalisation to serve their end that is to enslave
and bend us to their will.
The working class in Britain get it and the ditto Germans
to see the way their countries are going and protests
because of the know if this is not stopped a new war will
begin a war that can only benefit the Zionists.
Aliens have recently taken over my mind
They're a friendly lot, they are
Obsessed by the pretty women we have
And the love of our fancy cars
They say they're thinking of immigrating
Warned them it's not a bed of roses
Got a bunch of yahoos running the show
Amazing the problems it poses
Many of us live in the lap of luxury
Others don't have enough to eat
Power trips are the crux of our problems
We must have servants at our feet
So the choice is yours my alien friends
Don't know what it's like back home
Might think of checking out other planets
This ain't the best one known
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They travel without passports,
these delicate immigrants,
their wings like stained glass windows
in a cathedral of wind.
They rise into the August sky,
a thousand orange and black wings,
paper-thin, trembling
with the weight of a journey
they do not remember
but instinctively cannot refuse.
They drift over highways,
tiny, winged ghosts in the exhaust,
mapping routes older than concrete,
older than borders, older than names.
Some will faIl, for
a highway stitches
through their flight path,
and the milkweed grows scarce.
The rest push on,
carrying the sun on their backs,
a flickering pulse
toward a home they have never seen.
What is migration but memory
written in the body?
What is memory but a debt
passed down in veins?
the companion memoir vignette can be read at poetrysoup.com/short_stories/dinner_with_the_butterfly_whisperer_13613
Oh do move on, Summer - it's time for a change
I've so many seasonal chores to arrange!
Whilst you, my dear sister can laze in the sun,
For me there are serious tasks to be done.
I have to ensure that the hedgehogs remember
To stock up on food at the start of September.
Then trigger celestial cues as causation
For swallows' onset of long distance migration.
Blithe, frolicking squirrels must forfeit their play
To stash bereted nuts for the next rainy day.
And whilst I remember, the trees need a shake;
A gentle reminder their leaves to forsake.
A new coat of paint is applied in a rush,
A kiss from my lips makes the blackberries blush.
I’ll crisp up the air and leave everything stark,
Ensuring that nippy Jack Frost makes his mark.
Then tickle the prickles of sweet chestnut shells
Till, sides split with laughter, their treasure expels.
And last but not least, I've the pumpkins to swell
And harvest to gather, folk's hunger to quell.'
Flamboyant and frisky, in colourful dress
The glory of autumn can't fail to impress!
02/09/18
Early Sept 2018 Standard,Any Form,Any Theme,Upto A Max Of 20 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
'Colourful Fall' Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
15/09/18
Fading blossoms drooping low in abeyance
Arouse Summer’s suspicions that now Autumn
Races forward, seeking Summer’s abdication.
Even as the birds plan their migration south,
Willful Summer scoffs as she stifles the wind,
Eventually losing to the tug of chill air.
Looking at scorched ground, Summer abandons
Last requests to the barren clouds for quenching rains.
Trudging toward tomorrow, Summer remembers she was
Once a grand empress, and vows she shall be again!
She sheds her ragged regal robes and crown;
Uneasy in weight of peasant’s coarse tunic.
Maybe next year when the Sun again comes ‘round,
Maybe next year when Summer defends, just then,
Essence of life will calm and steady her realm.
Restoring hope for her next auspicious reign.
They sheared and washed until they uncovered clean rosy skin
‘That’s more like it now we don’t have to cope with the ultimate sin’
Being different was not acceptable but now the sheep shivered
And the flock had been tainted before the firm rulers had delivered
How deplorable that this unruly animal claims to be one of us
A curse much worse than migration so this one is rather surplus
‘We hope it is not contagious because power remains to be white’
So they exhausted soap and even toilet cleaner to get this one right
All this ‘black is beautiful’ such nonsense not on these pastures
Maybe evil comes from the inside such is the reason for oils of castor
Ammonia to the rescue applied with gloves and a hard wire brush
That stinks more than the renegade creature who developed some thrush
‘Surely the gods sent guidance and providence to test our firmness
To achieve sameness and cohesion for the good of the nation in earnest’
History pointed to extermination for pure race creed and untarnished blood
What if sheep fall down and contaminate the soil when they roll in the mud
What if it’s a trap because now the offender was naked and more prominent
So they asked for a council of elders to reach a solution for agreeable consent
By now they were fearful of repercussions and tried to cover up their actions
Tarred and feathered the dissimilar bastard to revert to its original complexion
But a legacy of marginalization power hegemony could not be removed so fast
There must be heavenly purpose for keeping with conquest for good and at last
It never dawned on the farmers hypocrites bigots and misled vulnerable peers
That God might be a black women of beautiful colour and quite possibly *****
10th July 2019