Long Occupation Poems
Long Occupation Poems. Below are the most popular long Occupation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Occupation poems by poem length and keyword.
concerning Iran (a brief letter to the american voter)
dear miss or mister
still-believing-in-the-“dream”---
which face that you see being displayed on your
screens,
do you think will get us into a war with Iran
first?
will it be mr. hope & change,
whose translucent slogans were
transparent to many of us,
even prior to his ascendance,
whose own hands became bloodied/dirtied on
the way up,
and who now spends his time
twisting on the marionette stage
to the hand motions of the moneyed interests
who fueled his first campaign &
who have fueled his present one?
as the manipulators of mr. hope & change
make him continue to strangle Iran with sanctions,
pull funding from Palestine &
pump more & more money into
militarized & already nuclear
Israel,
will the region get any more peaceful?
will all the countries who showed their dissent with the
Arab Spring
then become the little slaves that the empire wants them to be
under mr. hope & change,
further gearing up hatred,
encouraging the next 9/11 on US soil
as a direct result?
hmmm.
will it be mr. romney, mr. santorum, mr. gingrich or
mr. perry, whose combined complete lack of concern for the
citizen of the empire & wanton militancy
will sacrifice everything to crush the last stronghold
left in the region
(who refuses to bend over the table for america
so that it can install another Shah &
rape it of its oil)
in the name of the war on “Islamic Fundamentalism,”
whose characteristics seem all too familiar
if you are watching the whole thing happen from a television in
the
“Evil Empire?”
hmmm.
will these iron-fisted capitalists
who make fun of the unrest within their own country
by blaming the unemployed for the occupation of wall st. etc.,
march into Iran
(like the christian caped crusaders that ya know they see themselves
as---finally getting to convert the infidels after all these years,
with the big american military *****)
like they marched into Iraq &
they marched into Afghanistan
only a few years ago,
to incinerate the country &
start building permanent bases there with money that
could have been spent on
universal healthcare for americans,
better education for american children,
new employment opportunities through making america
green &
paying off our own debt?
how many Iranian citizens are going to die because of
the american empire’s hegemony & hubris?
hmmm.
All hail thy – sweet – small – courtesies of life.
For smooth do they make the road of it.
Grace and beauty – they cut so deep not unlike a knife -
They beg all inclinations toward love at first sight.
Yes, ‘tis those courtesies which let the stranger in.
And those tones and mannerisms, they too have a meaning.
Oh - ‘tis a blessed thing,
One for which I could lose myself
To the honor of my aching.
I fear a heart which bears all to itself.
Oh yes, open – ‘lest it shut it all out.
So I ask, “Are not my eyes the scout
For which my heart journeys?
That vision, is it not flowing through my arteries
Bringing my heartbeat’s rhythm in tune?
Oh, let that beat be mine none too soon.”
With that said, she laid out her arm in front of me.
Taking hold of her fingers in my one hand, I aptly
Apply two fingers of my other hand to her wrist -
Firmly - and begin counting her heart's throb.
“One – two – three – four,” counting out aloud
Measuring each heartbeat as it happens –
Hoping to find the art of her fever.
I close my eyes as I continue to count – thinking –
There is no occupation in the world comparable
To feeling a woman’s pulse.
And when I had counted to twenty five
I looked up into her eyes and
At that instant I felt her pulse quicken.
She clutched my fingers tighter in the one hand
While pressing the wrist of her other hand
Harder into my account.
Is it possible for two to become one bone and flesh?
If that is true, what is everything else to become?
Sometimes yours while at other times the other has it?
All the while to be generally on par tallying up the score
As each of us permit the other to share in ourselves –
At least in as much as a man and a woman need to.
Not unlike a bag full of pebbles which started out jagged
And rough, with very little gleam.
Only ‘tis after being years in the bag together
Do the stones, having had many amicable collisions
Wearing down their angles and edges, do they
Become well rounded and smooth with the brilliance
Of their combined luster.
Nothing to either could have ever been
Accomplished alone.
She looks back into my eyes as she presses her wrist into me
and asks,
“How does it beat with you?”
Placing her hand on my neck I say,
“Feel for yourself -
‘Tis an improvement –
‘Tis my evidence.”
High school times were lived with fun and ease
Other peoples opinions I didn’t care to please
Found friends who accepted me for who I was
Wanted to enjoy it, soak it up, it was love
Class became less important, became such a bore
Going to school and listening started to be a chore
Intelligence and ability weren’t the problem at hand
Needed a challenge, motivation, Teachers didn’t understand
Getting taught the same thing, same lesson plan everyday
Made the decision easy, I’ll just go a different way
Basketball I still loved, it had always been my addiction
My new ways were causing trouble, not my smartest transition
Wasn’t making the grades needed to stay on the team
There I stood watching, as it drifted away, my dream
My whole life’s plan, I gave away just like that
Figured quitting was the answer, now I’ll never get it back
Decided on a new plan, a new worthless occupation
I was self employed, getting hired? No complication
Welcome to the party, I’ll be your host for the evening
What ever your pleasure, just ask, it’s for the taking
Which drug do you prefer, I’ll be happy to oblige
Smoke some herb, do some coke, or Lucy in the Sky?
Never was a dealer, just a consumer if you will
Then a new addiction, one special little pill
Just weekend party fun, you know, only here and there
But the feeling it gave me, well nothing else could compare
Soon it was a daily thing, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and such
Next thing I knew, I couldn’t smile with out my crutch
Still to me, all these things didn’t seem a big deal
What happen to that speech, the one about how drugs kill
Friends tried to warn me, things had gone too far
But I couldn’t help by stick my hand, in the evil cookie jar
Harmless fun turned to mayhem, actions with consequences
Tragedy was lurking, hiding behind the fences
Time to get out, but I tell you, it had a good hold
These demons and these urges, was I strong enough to control
Found a way to slow down, hop out the fast lane for a bit
It was a good ride with good times, man what a trip
I really thought I got lucky, no major repercussions
Thought I was out of the path of total self destruction
But hold on tight, this is just the start, of things I’d have to kick
Darkness was upon me, but my eyes were blind, what a trick
Afraid to step out , afraid to be inside
The scene haunt , WE WANT JUSTICE that's what everyone reside
God made this creature to admire
Contrary these devils are burning them in fire
Didn't you understood yet ?
What am talking about ?
Devils who roam are now considering it as bet
Were a time - only one dirty gaze and our ancestors fought
Flowers were beautifying the nature
Yet shattered to make someone day
Or end up lying on someone grave
Left no hopes of array
It's not only about flower
Do every beautiful thing meant to be destroyed?
Is this is a destiny - left beauties with no power
Harsh right ? The creature suffer the most which meant to be mesmerized
They blame dressing sense for the cases which are raised
Can you explain why white coat turned to be red ?
Why devils attacked them whose face can't be glanced?
What's the fault of someone who just stepped?
Why the one whose one leg is under the grave ?
Contrast of universe is no joke
The beautiful eyes shed the tears most
Society said in victims opposition
Said job like teacher and doctor are made for them
Numerous of question arises with mixture of conclusion
Say why white coat found soaked with red floor then ?
Why children threat make them suffer from hypertension
Silence....yet full of answers
Thundering works made sky in tears
It hurts more
When own species answered in opposition
False reason...applying salt on the shore
Everyone silent - even after reaching the conclusion
Clear ! Neither clothes nor occupation is the reason
If something is - then it's those eyes with bad intention
If you still don't feel bad
Then just imagine you sat on the boat and went for boat riding
The bunch of crab made your stick fall which you had
Suddenly got hit by huge wave and you started drowning
Seagull saw the scene got shocked and hurriedly stand
Started marching cried with agony
Now open your eyes the view was terrifying
Now think how those are dying
Thinking to make full stop on these ?
Please ask everyone to clear dirt from there mind with ease
Instead of teaching them synchronisation Teach them to fight
So they can save themselves when situation is not right
Thanks
New Moon new, new tune
It’s a lovely afternoon
New broom sweeping the town
And spiritual cleansing is scattered all around
The wind is blowing lightly
And the race is running politely
The crowd is out once more
And people are cruising from door to door
A balance crown, a balance gown
The message is circulating around
Sending shock wave all over the town
The women are out in great force
They have just handed in their final divorce
With girted skirts and bodies well assembled
They were determined to end the tumultuous dirt
The Christmas came with a silent storm
And woke me up just before dawn
Spilling water all over the lawn
Soaking rain and complaining men
Too many of them occupied the street
The screaming and the shouting
The cussing and the fighting
They are trying to get out of the bull pen
But they angered the Gods and water suddenly
Came thundering in from heaven
Goods start floating in the street
And their sales were incomplete
A watery Christmas with cuss, cuss
Caused baby Jesus to fuss
Mary rock him gentle in the cradle
And he smiled gentle, and said he is able
The women are out in droves
They are getting ready to shout
The unruly band, the clownish man
But the women were determined to have the upper hand
I have been thinking hard and long
Waiting patiently to sing a new song
New rhythm, new beat
And a brand new shoes on my weary feet
The tide is rolling along, and the minstrel is
getting ready to march with the big band
Everyone lined up to pay their last respect
To a dying man gasping for breath
A sad moment for the throne
And a happy moment for the bluestone
The show is rolling along
and heart of destiny is scattered all over the land
Achilles heel are bruised and his mind is confused
His eyes are growing dim
and blood vessel is full to the brim
The devil is winking his eyes,
And many people start to cry
The heavens is a witness to his occupation
That has caused much confusion in heaven
The Angels could not adore it
And they could not tolerate it
So the God’s made the final decree
And boo the devil straight out of heaven
I think about it deeply
And absorb it completely
The devil is fighting for his life
But the Angels cannot comply.
i want to go back
to the time when nothing mattered
when being daddy's little girl
was the best occupation
a big little woman
could manage...
Back when riding your bicycle
across the hood was
the greatest adventure
Back when having a crush
on a boy who sits across me
during art class meant nothing
but coping with being shy
and clumsy when he comes around
I want to go back
to the time before his eyes
burnt my skin when he stared at me
and the time before
I knew she could jump off the walls
and scratch me...
back to the time when she was
my little star, one that shone
eternally with no intension to dim
Back to the time when arguments
were fair and always ended
with a mutual smile...
I want to go back
to the time when 'never'
was more or less like 'could not'
And when a smile from you
injected me with ecstasy
that i felt could last me
a lifetime...
Back when locking eyes with you
meant we are talking
the same language
when reaching out
for your hand soothed my heart
And healed the bleeding
wound whose tears never
dried...
I want to go back
to the time when i could
go to bed with a smile
and wake up the same
back to the time
when possible was legit
when dreams could come true
back to the time
when love was the
feeling that made you
warm inside yet
gave you shivers and goosebumps
on the outside
I want to go back
to the time when
I was me, and that
was not a sin
I want to go back...
back to the time when
I believed the same way
I could erase drawings
I could also erase my mistakes
and take back my words
Back to the time when
when a promise was sealed
with a silly pledge yet
meant it was for real
and secrets were told in the dark
so that no one can hear...
I want to go back
to the time when
I yearned for your touch
and wondered how it feels
to be in your clasp
Back to the time when
i could carry my own cross
of crucification
just so i could prove
you are righteous
I want to go back
to the time before i knew
that words from your tongue
could stick on my heart
and do away with its tissues
I want to go back
to the time when time passing
did not count
as long as you were there
with me...
Form:
4.
The Slippage
All through the night of the day when the madness began
Fever comes to visit me.
In bed immobile,
Sheets dampen beneath my filthy hair
Shivering/Burning Shivering/Burning
The night creeps on towards dawn
No sleep precedes it.
When at last it comes,
It marks the point at which
Breathing becomes my sole occupation
Tests define my days
I and the medical machines
Begin to merge.
New lines are attached daily;
Monitors, nutrients, fluids, blood.
In all directions they flow from me
Until my metal caretakers and I are so interconnected
That spongebathing becomes choreography.
Meanwhile, outside
Invisible killers roam at will,
Dealing death and wounds
Then moving on, like clouds across the sun.
A siege mentality settles over the entire area
The shadow of sudden, random death passes over all.
My personal shadow lies upon my lungs,
Quietly, steadily, pressing away my breath.
The tests go on and on and on
Blood is drawn 'til veins begin collapsing
I feel like a prisoner of the Inquisition,
Sustained solely by the spirit of those
Good fortune makes my own:
Wife, Children, Parents, Friends
- All the best reasons, in short, to live -
Never fail to help bear me up,
Feeding me the honor of their concern.
They fan me when I burn,
Warm me as I shake with cold,
Remind me of all the good
Awaiting my return.
Then at last there fell the evil day
When they moved me back to the higher ward,
The place from which one usually does not return,
Chills washing me like Arctic waters,
Shaking like an epileptic
Fighting the mounting panic
As I gasp shallow breaths
Like a fish hauled aground.
Since that time I've seen it claimed
That suffocation brings the kindest death.
Whoever wrote that
Had a strange view of kindness.
There followed a hard night of fear and confusion
That passed into a dawn I never saw nor felt.
At some undefined hour they wheel me back to Intensive,
As Gulliver's god slides off the wall ....
And everything comes to full stop.
January 16 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Genesis 46-48
Key Verse – Genesis 46:3 And he said, I am God, the God of thy father: fear not…
FAITH IN GOD WHO SAYS, "FEAR NOT"
God says, “Fear not” as He cheers us by His goodness-nurturing
Perfectly speaking to us His truth for our spiritual bearing
Prodding our spirits to rise, by faith, toward service-gearing---
Praises be to Him for leading us through His ministerial rearing.
God says, “Fear not” as He ushers us toward conversion-revival
Perfectly directing to us live in His will while waiting for Christ’s arrival
Protecting our hearts, to stand by faith, in our transformation-upheaval---
Praises be to Him for feeding us for our physical and divine survival.
God says, “Fear not” as He instructs us for stewardship-occupation
Perfectly guiding us to His pasture of constant provision
Performing in our activities, to do best by faith, in His blessed situation---
Praises be to Him for securing us until we are old midst His compassion.
God says, “Fear not” as He teaches us for victorious pilgrimage-attainment
Perfectly keeping us in His eternal possession’s fulfillment
Pouring out to our nourishment, to stay strong by faith, in our commitment---
Praises be to Him for upholding us against fainting because of ailment.
God says, “Fear not” as He enlightens us toward wisdom-prevailing
Perfectly removing from us frustration loss and anxious failing
Pressing our dedication to soar, by faith, with His grace and love’s sealing---
Praises be to Him for drawing us nigh to Him through His calling.
God says, “Fear not” as He tests us of our submission-earnestness
Perfectly making us fruitful by His provisions’ bountifulness
Powering our trust to lean, by faith, on His assurance-steadfastness---
Praises be to Him for sanctifying us by His righteousness.
God says, “Fear not” as He drives us toward His triumph-delight
Perfectly helping us walk upon His holiness-road along His light
Paving our way to share the Gospel, by faith, midst prayerful plight---
Praises be to Him for guarding us from sinfulness’ blight. Amen!
January 16, 2025
More than two years it be since me old dad had to fly. I miss him you know, he was
my best friend. I miss the twinkle in his Scottish,Irish,American eyes, a kind and
caring Gent was he. Times there are when I sit on the porch and talk to him, like he
was there next to me. If anyone was to hear they'd think a loony man I be, guess I
wouldn't disagree. At the the age of three orphaned was he, placed in the
orphanage with two of his four brothers. Cruel treatment he did receive, still had the
scars to witness the abuse they dealt him, undeserved though it be. Never did
break him, stubborn he was, passed down by his anstery, can say the same for me.
Great depression was on, none could afford another mouth to feed. At the age of
fourteen put out on the street , all because he refused to stay with a farmer who
wouldn't let him finish school. All the man wanted was for dad to be his tool. A little
help from a friend and some kindly Gents, a sleeping room he did get. Worked three
jobs finished high school, I told you stubborn he be. Old Uncle Sam drafted him then,
a soldier they needed him to be. Only five nine one hundred thirty five he was
soakin wet. Balck hair, hazel eyes, a fine looking lad was he. Thirty cal. machine
gunner he was assigned, to everyone's surprise. Little man was he, but the heart of
a lion he did have. From the shores of France to Berlin he did fight. Bronze star for
valor, Holocaust memorial award, battle for Atlantic,European theater,Seinne river
crossing, Rhine river crossing, battle of the buldge, army of occupation, all these
medals he did receive. I know if they'd asked him do you want to fight a war? No
thanks he would have said, for a peaceful man I be. The day they placed him in the
ground, amist his World War II brothers, the sky was crying, and so was I. Taps for
him they did blow, gun salute. Folded the flag and gave it to my mom, in her eyes I
could see that her world had come to an end. Such pain in my heart, I just wanted to and flee. Instead I stubbornly stood there, to honor the memory of my dad.
In Loving memory of my dad: W. Jack Ross : 1924-2009: I still miss him.
I’d extend an invitation
to all in the congregation
through this speech of inspiration
which is quite a compilation
yet I expect no adulation
and no gest of adoration
for in my own estimation
it’s a trifle occupation
clearing out the obfuscation
of a simple predication
o’er the course of this oration
through the rhyme of this dictation
See it’s a feebly built narration,
or an errant adaptation
sitting ‘top a weak foundation
grounded on some old quotation
writ in archaic notation
which seems to bear no strong relation
to the current held fixation
on the poorly built translation
which is more of a mutation
than an actual citation.
Now to give a brief summation
I will fight off the temptation
and my present inclination
to continue this vocation
and I’ll risk your irritation
with this act of abdication
and upset your expectation
by using this line instead
to add a bit of variation
as the only deviation
in my final recitation.
Now please stifle your elation
as I offer resignation
for I’m out of medication
and I fear the obligation
to interpret revelation
meant to spell out your salvation
is to my great consternation
causing meal regurgitation
and worse stomach ulceration
though at best the correlation
is just my imagination.
So I’m taking a vacation
to a tropical location
lost in wild vegetation
where I’ll watch in adoration
those grass skirts in their gyration
and sip drinks of fermentation
to avoid the dehydration
that always comes by deprivation
or by over-conservation.
If it’s any consolation,
after lots of vaccination
I’ll pursue my destination
through a week of navigation
on a vessel of flotation
as my mode of transportation
and forego all aviation.
So I plead, dear congregation
understand my situation
‘spite my freedom from taxation,
just suppress your indignation
toward my dreams of recreation
though I have no explanation
save this current presentation.
And though there is no valuation
for true acts of consecration,
after much consideration
if you’d show your dedication
with a generous donation,
I could use the insulation.
Amen.