Long Oversea Poems
Long Oversea Poems. Below are the most popular long Oversea by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Oversea poems by poem length and keyword.
Must pester Uncle Fester our national jester
Mr dome chrome time to buy another home?
Property cartels fed cahoots loots free to roam
Like we’re being led by the laughing gnome
Coalition behind demolition of OG ancestor
Don’t let it fester about every oversea investor
Cannot cotton on to what’s wrong.. polyester
Kiwis remember embers of being a protestor
They were told awhile before the war make sure
To stockpile fossil fuels.. because more is more
They wouldn’t listen Oil companies shares glisten
Billionaire backed..society cracked or is it fracked
Fast tracked as guess who gets whacked the Poor!
Luxon adoring every glutton pushes that button
Haughty and naughty lies flies in roaring forties
Ignoring us imploring see the nexus of the exodus
As its lambs to the slaughter on the isles of mutton
womankind has been around for a while
hypno-teasing men with her wicked smile
been known by many names starting with Eve
Boadicea, Cleopatra and Genevieve
she can fly-by-night, be out with the bats
purring and prowling with sly slinky cats
never a tame girl, sometimes receptive
with hidden secrets, deep and deceptive
see her in twilight, creature in the dark
flames flickered when she was Joan of Arc
think she has been here for just a few years?
think again, them hills they flow with her tears
woman has been teacher for aeons of time
wrote most of " Homer ", taught Plato to rhyme
as Archimedes' hand-maid, she had a laugh
when he shouted " Eureka, get me out of the bath! "
around when Adam gave out those spare ribs
her name is on parchment writ with rare nibs
her time here with us, a mere interlude
battles over centuries, a bitter feud
with men from the past and future I'm told
man on her arm, just her latest cuckold
well-rounded dame or seriously slim
cheerful demeanour or chief sister grim
close-quarter woman talking loud and fast
words over-taking like a blast from the past
so hard to keep up, so hard to break in
leave you behind in the wake of her din!
what's this I hear, is she now slowing down
pausing for men, is she wearing a frown?
perhaps she's starting to shuffle the deck
departure dreaming on a very long trek
maybe no point in moving on once more
the greater challenge is here at the door
as men they shout " I am invincible
I've the biggest Archimedes Principle! "
late at night she now walks the floorboards
seeking a new role, a song with new chords
" where and when will I go, who will I be
will I stay in this land or else oversea ? "
men of the future and men of the past
treasure this woman as head of the cast
whenever, wherever, whoever you are
she will always twinkle, shine like a star
bring her some chocolate, bring her some wine
make sure she stays and has a good time
but watch at midnight in case she's outside
all alone by the road hitching a ride
silver moonbeam and finest curb crawler
then down to the port and onto a trawler
far out to sea where she thinks of those days
when Gods fought Neptune for sight of her gaze
A Telegram from the Queen
An interview with Maisie Widdop,
On her very special day.
Her telegram from the queen has arrived,
and has something, she wants to say.
Maisie please tell our readers,
This most wonderful story of yours,
When you were but a small child,
A new world, was opening its doors.
"We are going on an adventure,
My Mother would frequently say to me.
A brand new life for all of us,
It will be marvellous, you wait and see.
Travelling in luxury and elegance,
Splendour, Grandeur will know no bounds,
Seven days of fun filled decadence,
Our feet won't touch the ground,
Nothing but the best for us,
Clever Daddy has taken good care.
You and me will want for nothing,
On his life he'd promise and swear.
We are sailing on the Tenth my love,
So we really must look our best,
Just in case the Captain invites us,
To his table, as special guests
I was just a Baby at the time,
My Father was taking us oversea.
A brave new world across the Pond,
He said, that's where work will be.
We were due to leave early April,
But I got a fever and couldn't sail.
Mother told Father "you go on ahead"
and we would follow soon, without fail.
Poor Father never reached New York,
On that fateful sailing ship.
So, we remained forever in England,
Never wanting to make the trip.
A twist of fate and I'm still here,
One hundred years old today.
Mother died back in Eighty-Three,
Ninety-Two when she passed away.
She told me this same heartfelt story,
From my birth, until the day she died.
Third class, sounded grand to her
But she knew; thought of Father and cried"
Chocolate Indulgences (20150129)
If I really had no choice but to divulge,
In mountains of chocolate I would indulge.
I'm not just taking about Snickers,
Reese's peanut butter cups, Butterfingers,
Or other grocery store sweeties.
I'm talking about the expensive stuff, most from oversea:
Fruit and nut bars from British Cadbury,
Milk molasses chips from local Mrs. See's,
Fudge Easter Eggs from domestic Helen Grace,
Belgian praline Sea Shells from Leonidas,
Belgian Cote D'Or bouche pralines,
And from Germany's Ritter Sport--EVERYTHING!
Wallowing in glorious chocolate, I'd be so pathetic,
If not for the fact, that I'm a diabetic.
Children are leaders of tomorrow
Precious gift from God
First man, Adam was created from dust
Children were made between man and woman
Children are unique in nature
And beautiful in the sigh of their father
My mother didn't know what I will become in future
My father insisted I received a good training
So that in the future I can become somebody
A substance worthy of emulation by others
I can't think about my future
But I can see them in my mother's eyes
I can't think... but I can hear from my father's voice
...these are what I learnt as I grow...
All men were created equal before God
And should be treated equal
No difference in race
We should be one by his grace
No difference in colour
As I see you and me as one by the corridor
Wealth evenly distributed
No jealousy or confectiousness exhibited
If I have a stick of sweet
You should have same too in the street
Love cannot be overlooked
Even though my brother is a crook
Be bothered about me
'Cause tomorrow it might be your turn
This is the tomorrow we should see
even without going oversea
Yes, we are tomorrow's leaders
We stand by our words.
Beware of politicians whose active manifesto
Is always to speak ill of other candidates and opposition parties.
They are the real problems!
Beware of political goons and rumour-mongers, spinning allegations
Twining civil questions, yakking all day but never about
What they have done or can do. They have no vision!
Beware, my brother, of trillionaire politicians who only remember
The poor during campaigns and invite the press to a snap
Of a picture with a kwashiorkor in the slum. They are hypocrites!
Beware of politicians who make fabulous and illusory promises
Whose speeches are seasoned with oenomel to please and hype
History is a witness to their chronic failures and betrayals!
Beware of politicians who evade critical discourse and the press
At home like a mosquito bite but would run to the Chatham House
To seek an audience. They are no solutions!
Beware of desperate politicos defying every civil structure to rule
Bigots whose ploys for victory are religious and ethnic mantras
Kingmakers who want to have their turn on the throne.
Beware of politicians who make Aso Rock their retirement plan
Hall of fame, cashpoint, birthplace and right, their next career
A doctor or lawyer who could save a life or vindicate rights
Has become the Dionysius of our time.
Beware of politicians whose patriotism pulsates on oversea products
Trips to Harley Street, Burj Khalifa, bikini-infested Miami Beach
Back home, they vow to tighten the laws and expand the cells
To make a great nation.
Beware, you goofs and poltroons taking up the squares for heroes
You moneybags, Kings of the jungle, sacred cows, powerbrokers
Plumed and brocaded with national honours, OON, CON…
Amid the chronic poverty and acute frustration.
Beware of kleptocracy, autocracy, gerontocracy, oligarchy, plutarchy
And amidst the hunger, ignorance, confusion, and frustration
Beware of vote merchants!
A hawk, moments after dawn,
circling.
Somewhere,
somewhere at the edge of near;
a somewhere known to the pessimistic
as far,
as there,
as not,
not
Here.
Not near.
Occasionally, a flashed shadow
over the sun-bleached apricot sky.
Just to the West.
Where the yellower light spills now
over the half-new roof and well-appointed chimney
of farm/field/stone.
Into the valley of clinging green
and the stone wall edge of the Farm
where the trees have one and all
forgot the late date.
They’ve
steadfastly, triumphantly, unarguably
argued for their summer-earned greens.
The moon is so high as to be unknown.
There above the maple.
There above the shred-ragged, yellowing
banana leaves -
the makeshift windvane of wavily oversea kelp.
Unknown
to the crook of neck,
to the poor sleepers,
to the cheap pillow resters.
It is such a slight sliver
that
it gives a cool shiver
to my flesh.
The momentary thought of,
a splinter of wood getting under skin.
The slight sharp sliver of dim silver moon
seems so sharp as to
threaten to deflate the dim blue,
the pale blue
October sky.