Long Montreal Poems
Long Montreal Poems. Below are the most popular long Montreal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Montreal poems by poem length and keyword.
Andrew came in behind Daniel Dias,
Brazil’s most popular swimming star,
Three times at Rio: 2 bronze, 1 silver,
In the 50m butterfly, IM and the back.
He’s from Glasgow, born short limbed,
On the 29th day of November in 1996,
He boasts Mearns Castle High bricks,
And began swimming at seven years.
He benefited well and very truly from,
Scottish Disability Sport competitions,
By way of meets and gala occasions,
Where he scored across the boards.
In Berlin at the Europeans in 2011,
He won bronze for the S5 200m IM,
And also won the silver butterfly pen,
To explode onto the scene with grit.
Montreal in Canada and the Worlds,
In 2013, he secured 2 silver, 1 bronze,
In the back, the IM and the free lawns,
Where he just missed on a gold ace.
In 2014, European Championships,
Which were in Eindhoven in Holland,
Andrew, victory gold thrice did land,
Plus two front crawl freestyle silvers.
2015 and Glasgow’s World contest,
And Andrew won two silver medals,
For freestyle and for the back pedals,
And also won two bronzes, fought.
Then Funchal 2016 came, Portugal,
Which sent Andrew to the Rio Paras,
Because there he won 4 gold medals,
For back, 2 for free and for butterfly.
You, unfeeling creatures
Who call yourselves human,
You, fleeting bubbles of reason,
Accidental parasites of time,
You, filthy microbes of cancer,
Ephemera of invincible eternity,
You, who try to fill your vanity
With abominable crimes,
You, insensible butchers of animals,
Notorious destroyers of pastures,
You, contaminators of oceans,
Deleterious polluters of rivers,
You, menacing beings of harmony,
Transgressors of universal laws,
You,
Who have deliberately put me through
The tormenting agony of dying
By
Strewing your treacherous dark web of
Your unworthy ambitions, all over my face,
Shadowing my generous fertility and
Rendering me sterile,
Behold,
For the time has come for you
To feel my wrath and my fury
Boiling lava over you
To flow every day,
Kneel,
Your tiny mortal beings
In front of the immortal cosmos,
For the shiny heavy sword of
Universal justice,
Avenger of transgressions, guardians of
The eternal laws,
Over your thoughtless heads to fall
With vengeance and rage
Decapitating most of you and
Those who would survive
Shall feel the torturing pain in
Their hearts
For
Uncountable years!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
20 March 2020
* This poem I wrote in 1985 in Montreal, Canada, when, as a co-founder of a peace movement, I was making efforts to raise consciousness to save Mother Earth. "THE MOURNING OF MOTHER EARTH." THIS IS A STERN WARNING TO ALL OF US WHO DESTROY HER: REMEMBER, NOT MUCH TIME IS LEFT TO SAVE OUR PLANET AND OURSELVES!
Mirabella had a big garden of pretty Azaleas
and towards moon she started a tap dance,
showing her ballerina dress made by Chris;
young boys came around and stole a glance!
What was the secret that made
her so glamorous and famous?
What did Mirabella have to deserve
admiration and hundreds of claps?
Follow me and I'll tell you a great story,
her incredible beauty charmed tall
and handsome Harry instantly;
they met on the breezy Amalfi Bay;
he wasn't very young, a friendly guy
with a head full of aging grey...
and he came from Montreal!
No woman was lovelier than Mirabella when she was laughing;
it must been the Neapolitan sunshine on her sun-tanned cheeks,
it must have been the mandolin's hard trap beats
that raised her young blood as she began singing!
And Harry couldn't help smiling and throwing another flower,
she became the undying flame of a true soldier's heart;
and that flame burned until the war was finally over:
would he forget her and let their feelings turn into dust?
He took one step forward and whispered with the firmest voice,
" I've made a promise more truthful than I've made to any girl,
wait for me and don't count days, or nights, not even once:
have faith in me: because tomorrow is a wish I can fulfill! "
And Mirabella remembers her sweetheart who's too far away
and cries by the dull garden of withered flowers looking over
the foaming sea where dreams are created; do they soar faster
than the boldest eagles, or do they end in misery before midday?
On that day, the phone first rang at nine a.m.,
then rang again fifteen minutes later.
His daughter gave his wife the news.
The shock…then silence…
followed by mixed emotions.
She was oh so very young.
The mirror in the room keeps displaying his visage;
the lines, the hair thinning at the top.
Today he will wear his new jeans,
and his Cat Stevens t-shirt,
and put some styling jell in his hair.
On the mantle, the faded photo,
conceiving memories of a party long ago.
Everyone younger, most living,
many smiling, laughing, appearing joyous.
Every morning, pain in his shoulder.
Throughout the night, numbness in most of the fingers of his right hand.
Heat or ice for his Achilles’ tendon?
(The doctor had called it tendinitis)
In the afternoon, some bread baking,
or perhaps a pizza;
a newly found hobby suggested by the pandemic.
On his desk, an almost finished poem,
about an abusive father and husband,
and a fire in a home on Colonial Street,
in the city of Montreal.
Beside it, another poem … just started.
Beautiful and magical butterflies,
and thoughts of revenge,
and murder.
And from his window … a garden.
Among the vegetation, a vibrant green pepper plant,
alive and flourishing.
Next to it, another plant,
cabbages visible,
but most of its leaves eaten by the caterpillars.
Susie was inspired by the Beijing Paralympics,
To pursue her talent at swimming, to train hard,
So she was classified as an S7, deformed limbs,
And won three medals in London, one in Rio.
She has a BA in languages from Newcastle,
Which she uses in her British Council work,
And first appeared in Berlin city at the Euros,
In Germany’s 2011 IPC Championships.
In London she won freestyle bronze 100m,
Another bronze for the 400 metres freestyle,
And yet another bronze for the 4x100m relay,
Also free - it’s where you do the front crawl.
In the French city of Montreal in Canada,
Quebec, Susie secured 1 gold and 4 silvers,
Gold for the 4x100m freestyle relay 34pts,
Silvers for 50, 100, 400 free and for 50 fly.
In 2014 in Eindhoven in the Netherlands,
Susie took five golds: the 50m butterfly,
The 50, 100 and the 400 metres freestyle,
And another for the 100m freestyle relay.
Then in Glasgow at the IPC Worlds 2015,
Susie won a gold 4x100m medley relay,
Also a bronze for the 100 metres freestyle,
So Funchal 2016 (Euros) came naturally.
In Funchal which exists on Madeira island,
Susie took five golds: the 50 metres butterfly,
The 50m, the 100m and the 400m freestyle,
And another for the medley relay, the 100m.
So in Rio she rejoiced when she won gold,
In the 50m butterfly in a time of 35.07 secs;
She could not believe it because she’s 33,
And intended to retire after London 2012.
Started out life as a child
Cuter than the average bear if I do say so myself
Grew up in a small town across the river from Montreal
My teenage years weren't all that happy
Had an inferiority complex for some strange reason
Started working in a bank right out of high school
But knew I wasn't cut out to be a banker
Met an old schoolmate one afternoon
Told me he was working as an apprentice in an art studio
And that surely sparked my interest
Always enjoyed doodling in my spare time
To make a long story short, I took the Famous Artists Course
A correspondence course through the mail
Two or three lessons into it
Along came the opportunity to be hired as an apprentice
In the art studio of a large engraving company
I jumped at the opportunity and the rest is history
My career as a graphic designer was launched
The more successful I became
The more my inferiority complex gradually disappeared
My success gave me the much needed self confidence
That one has to have to successfully get through life
There you have it... my story, such as it is
Not the most inspiring but at least it was uniquely mine
I am no longer that insecure soul from many years ago
Which perhaps you've noticed!!!
Hooray! Hooray! It’s Bagel Day!
Or so I’ve heard it said,
So substitute a bagel
For some ordinary bread.
Since many so-called “bagels”
Don’t have what it really takes
To be authentic, you may find
You’ve scarfed down lots of fakes.
Do not be fooled by circled dough
Around a center hole.
They must be dense and chewy
Like New York ones – that’s the goal.
Now other places have their fans,
(Hats off to Montreal!)
But some who serve a puffed-up version
Have a lot of gall.
To me, some seeds are needed -
Poppy, sesame and, too,
In pumpernickel, caraway,
And more than just a few.
A bagel’s a delicious treat
So eat it your own way,
But I need no reminding,
For I eat one every day!
Now i ask all humble.!!! You might just suppose.? That for an instance.' The situation a'rose.' Like its namesake does
From dug dung.' Fragrant and pleasing to
The nose..Also to
( the three who are yet one!)
I ask you just suppose? That some
Judges who are older.? And well versed at
Legal things..Maybe even generals.? If only
Two t'would be a thing! Mayors and police
Captains, and buisness folk at large spoke out that they craved for better.' In their land
And in their towns in their streets and on the borders, from New York to county down, from Melbourne to
Montenegto..Kinchaza to
Beijing town.. From Moscow to Montreal.. No more vanity as of kings.? Here I will mention Maria Farmer and Fiona Barnet too..As why did i not mention the FBI.? As i call
Invessantly for some to come through..)
Time and chance happened
to me
Opportunity came knocking
Canadian visa on my green passport
grabbed with both arms
Montreal, Ottawa here
I come
KLM, Air France, Amsterdam, Montreal
cities so surreal
Dreams and imagination becoming
so real
Waiters and waitresses
wait on me
Dreamy and misty but so real
Race and colour irrelevant
All wait on me
Living my dreams
Ottawa with love
Visa on my green Nigerian passport
I was driving from Montreal to Ottawa and the snow had just started. But,
it was nothing to worry about. However, an hour out the snow was falling
quite heavy and a wind was blowing. Around a curve the traffic had stopped
so, of course I had to stop too. I was adjusting the radio when I looked in
my mirror and saw transport truck lights coming toward me at a very high
speed. I thought it was going to slow down and stop. But, it did not and
kept coming. My car was hit and I was flying over the cars. I looked down
and thought how is this possible! Life did not flash in front of me but, I was
sure I would die. My car came crashing down on the medium in the middle
of the highway and I heard a loud crunching sound. Then, I was spinning and
spinning. When the car stopped it was facing oncoming traffic. The police
were there and opened my door, helping me out. I looked at my car and
there was nothing left from behind the front seat. The car was split in two.
The policeman said to me, "It was not your time, Miss." Within minutes of walking away, my car was hit by oncoming traffic. That's when I cried and
started shaking. There is no way I should have survived that accident. So,
I am convinced that there was divine intervention at work. God, was not
ready to have me. The next day my whole body ached even my hair. I was
bruised but there was nothing broken. People died that day but I was not
one of them for some reason beyond my understanding . . .
the snow thick and wet
fierce wind roaring like a train . . .
cars lay in pieces
__________________
December 17, 2021
Poetry/Haibun/''Not My Time''
Copyright Protected, ID 12-1413-549-17
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Divine Intervention
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judged 1/4/2022
First Place