Long Norway Poems
Long Norway Poems. Below are the most popular long Norway by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Norway poems by poem length and keyword.
Imagine a world if they made it first
Their want to dominate would continue to thirst
Heavy Water to be their goal
More innocent lives, more lost souls
The German want for Nuclear Arms
Brought them to, Telemark's charms
A county in scenic south Norway
If they achieve the world will pray
1942, at Vemork Power Station
Scientist boffins on the road to creation
Allied forces, intelligence heard
Sabotage on the tongue is the word
November 1942 Operation Freshman starts
The 1st British Airborne
From Wick, Scotland they part
Destination Møsvatn - frozen lake
Where hero's will land
For the worlds sake
But tragedy hits, the gliders crash land
Soldiers captured, now with German command
Gestapo interrogate these fathers and sons
On Hitlers Order
Machine gunned
Operation Swallow and Gunnerside
Norwegian and British commando pride
Take on this mission to destroy this plant
If they fail, they face German rant
Production impeded as they make their escape
To Ski to safety and dodge their drape
A decision is made to bomb the plant
143 B-17's, as many bombs grant
Many fail, to hit their mark
This Heavy Water terror in Telemark
Damage is little as the Germans act
Shipped back to Germany by boat and rail track
On February 20th 1944
The ferry ship SF Hydro is at the fore
Her laid-en cargo in railed tanks
By the grace of god, about to be sunk
Plastic explosive, alarm clocks
Ignite together as the Hydro rocks
As her Stern sinks, the tanks roll
Into the fjord, jeopardise German goal
All hero's they are to risk their lives
As this conflict of history
Is told from their eyes
To sabotage this plant and its Holy Water
And saved the world from Ultimate Slaughter
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
Sun, moon, stars, and universe are captivations,
Scenes, sceneries, lands, landscapes are activations;
Like a child, at each lovely scene, I do wonder,
Today, to a certain concept, I surrender..!
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While third-degree punishments of severe beating,
Depriving prisoners - of food, drink; ill-treating:
With piercing needles betwixt nail and flesh and nose,
Electrocuting; What else? Who exactly knows…?
Indian prisons have become hells here on earth.
For killing and getting killed within, there's no dearth.
Poor imprisoned for the crimes of their rich masters,
Die and decay as though natural disasters...!
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Prisons of Norway are my captivation, hence.
Healing the criminals is in their moral sense;
Offenders are offended; why offend them again?
Pain is filling them; why, again, inflicting pain...?
It's another home for them though they are sinners,
Who’s not a sinner? Are all, outside, are winners...?
Environs and situations cause persons fall,
Isn't, yet, dignity given equal to all...?
Healthy food; clean shelter; reliving medicines;
Penances and atonements to get rid of their sins;
Training for the unfit to fit into this world;
Making them, in nature, like flowers to get furled...!
Dignity of women, like pearls and gems, preserved,
When needed, like remedies, protections reserved;
Male chauvinism, like cobras, when rises its hood,
Feminism too enters in and does what it should...!
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World that believes in cruelty to criminals,
Researches on these Norwegian principals;
Finds, Lo, herein, are criminal activities -
Lesser than other international cities...!
09 October 2022
Captivation Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Denmark’s war
When the Germans occupied Denmark during World War 2 the old king was not dethroned
Every morning, he was seen riding in the park
Once, when his horse was spooked, by two German soldiers. he fell off his horse but got up
He dusted himself off, mounted his stead, rode on
The occupier thought his presence was good for morale, keeping the people passive
It was difficult to be a resistant fighter there was no place to hide after all Denmark is nothing more than a gigantic sandbank
The story of the king could have been written
by Hans Christian Andersen his work has been translated into my languages
We must not forget the physicist Niels Bohr who contributed to the understanding of nuclear power
There are many more names but this is not a list of great achievements
Denmark survived the war by not being overly aggressive making the enemy feel at ease
The farmers farmed, and fishermen fished so much that when peace, came they could help
Norway who faced starvation
Autumn In The Air - Hooray
Respite from punishing
heat wave - yay
which above line,
could "speak" volumes,
and be a stand alone poem
offering readers
a reprieve nsync
whence roasting, sultry,
and torpid unpleasant
weather since yesterday
boot such brevity,
would disallow
me to extemporize,
but more importantly today
this intrepid word
smith doth "say,"
he would never
wanna miss trodding,
the formerly (golden
in their heyday now sketchy),
sections of said roadway,
now where digital electronic
rustily hinged, abandoned,
and gated haunting quay
a throwback, when
private manned schooners
(shaped like a beer stein),
perhaps headed to Uruguay
could ply outlying
waters of cyberspace,
why... just yesterday
when my troubles
did not seem so far away
versus this present opportunity
to risk live and limb
(and Kong like wrath
of my reed ding fans)
while getting way
laid "traveling as
Wilburys soul survivor
foreign ancient groupie,"
the dangerous, derelict, and dicey
dubiously dotting dilapidated,
dark corners information
super high way,
thus yours truly
doth not heed,
but flaunts like some cray
zee (NOT RICH, NOR ASIAN),
but rather some gray
beard (grizzled), curmudgeon
figuratively gnarled, toothless,
and weatherbeaten lackaday
lay about good for nothing
mellow flew wuss depraved
('cept mebbe "robbing"
precious and special time
of some bachelor
farmer from Norway)
all the above
essentially wrote for naught
merely (as diversion) to comment,
how this September day wrought
ascent o' fought
(a scent oh aught) tum caught
me wear'n a corduroy
long sleeve shirt since...aye taut
a "FAKE" hungry
Grimm gimlet eyed trumpeting lout,
germane Don apprenticed
how to become cannibalizing
(without accountability) fuhrer,
(and lastly rendering enemies
into sweet tasting sauerkraut),
this while learning das dialect
(tickle) Matt speak,
(which took me a lifetime),
this preceding the
quirky invention of the umlaut!
Come live with me and be my sweetheart now
I’ll share my only bed with you and how!
If you let me love you
I’ll darn your old wool gloves 4 you
If you come and meet me brow to brow.
Come live with me ‘n teach me all you know
About poetic licence and Defoe.
I’ll mend your vacuum cleaner,
Learn expressions meaner..
How cheerfully the hours to come will go,
Come live with me and be my lover true
Without one,whatever shall we do?
I’ll mend all England’s railways
Wreck the works on weekdays
Come live with me and I will sweep your flue.
Come live with me in Norway on a fjord
I’ll use my Canon PowerShot if I 'm bored
I’ll watch the flowers growing
And see the waters flowing
How happy Wittgenstein’d be if he’d know
Since the 19th century, she stands looking out to sea
A guardian of the sailor, a survivor of tragedy
The Captain lost his pregnant wife and son and five members of his crew
Now she waits just like her sister when a sailor's return is overdue
Her sister stands in Moss since nineteen sixty two
They stand and face each other across the ocean blue
The Dictator, a Norwegian vessel, aground she did run
Nine people died off the shore in eighteen ninety one
The Captain returned to Norway when his healing was done
In Elmwood cemetery he sadly left his wife and son
On thirty seventh street in Virginia Beach the Norwegian Lady Stands
A monument to all who sail and walk on foreign sands
Beware Of Christmas
Careful: ‘Fast Christmas Approaching - Mind The Gap -Terms And Conditions Apply’
Warning: ‘This Is A Chocolate Santa Claus Contains Food Products And Mythology’
Edible under certain conditions only Not for children with pumpkin allergy This product
may contain residues from Halloween or scary associations with partial savoury nudity as well as poverty Connotative ribs and cribs should be imbibed with caution The full product
manual is available on the internet under www.biblestorieslimitedandrevised Please note
that Father Christmas is a commercial adaptation of an ancient theme (Jerusalem/Norway)
This sweet personification is wrapped in tin foil thus do not mistake for amalgam fillings but
once confused remove either foil or fillings or see your dentist for professional care advice
If you or your children have no medical aid consult foreign embassies regarding urgent
translocation to another country for treatment If your head of state expels migrants to
Mexico behind safe walls and reciprocal arrangement apply remove him from office or take
a chocolate boat to Syria Keep wrapper for electronic monitoring of journey and paradigm
Note Santa is real in transfer only Risk of posttraumatic stress Cave Jesus was a migrant too
20th October 2016
Alexander Kielland
a Norwegian writer regarded as a fine author, if not the top drawer, but somewhere in the middle, one does not need to stretch up or bend low to read his work.
I read his books when sitting in the library, skiving as my teacher would have said
After seven years we, who didn't have what was said, did not need further education since we were worker
material, which in a way, makes sense after all, most of us ended up in factories as our elders had.
The day before our sour-faced teacher gave his farewell speech, and, gave us advice on how to go through life humble and respectful of higher orders, I read a short story by AK about little Marius, who could not grasp the Latin language.
The priest had told him he could not be a cleric if he didn't understand Latin, his teacher despaired, and his
poor parents ashamed that their youngest son was so dense and refusing to learn Latin verbs.
I can't remember how the story ended, but little Marius disappeared, fled to Germany became
a tycoon in
the valley of the Ruhr bought a big castle and denied
he was little Marius. His sons joined the Nazi party and
and were the first go to defeat Norway to squash rumors of the Marius, unable to learn Latin and AK
books were banned.
When our teacher came into the room, we stood at attention at our desks
He told us which factories were seeking apprentices
and stables needing lads to run errands
He looked at me and said, there is a training job for
cobblers I impress upon those who are hopeless to seek employment as cobblers.
No, I'm not little Marius, but I do live abroad.
Grief can be many things.
Losing some of their nearest
A father, mother, sister, brother, or his own child
A while back, death was taboo
We did not talk about it
Grief you should wear alone
We are all different,
providing each our way
Different cultures and ways of life
We have become a little more open in our grief
share our grief with others.
if we share our grief,
it becomes a little easier to bear
But it is still there,
you as a fellow human
dare to hug not turn youself away
even though other cries
Rather wipe the tear away
* Four weeks ago disappeared a 16 year old girl here in Norway,
No trace of her ...
Major exploration crew every day.
Yesterday they found her ..... dead - killed.
For a grieving family must bear.
Such things happen every day
04. September 2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Stalin
We were coming out of my friend's mother's
baking, she had given us a Danish
pastries because it was near closing time
I remember it was dark, and many people
in the narrow street, when there was
a whisper, Stalin is dead, someone said I can't
It's true, he spoke on the radio the other day
This was 1953 Norway, a few years ago
had been occupied by Nazi Germany
But according to the newspaper, Russia
was our enemy: this attitude has not changed
Russia didn't occupy Norway, but it isn't right
of the fear, the socialist leading party spread
that the economic crisis of 1953 was caused by
The dreadful man called Vladimir Stalin