Long Pipelines Poems

Long Pipelines Poems. Below are the most popular long Pipelines by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pipelines poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Spiral

The Spiral

Once the circuit is closed it is a never-ending story one of
hate and violence an eye for an eye and more darkened vision

Who cast the first stone threw the first bomb wielded the sword
where when and how and for what reason does not matter to me

As loops of vicious power circle in a fight of oppression and the
going stays rough in retribution the system breeds more of the same

Suicide squads yield no answer for your revolution nor mine
when the blame game is on and liberation is merely an empty idol

Bombing sovereign countries is only an answer for globalised greed
a sign of malice insecurity and rationalised evil covering the roots

Terrorists have no legitimate place on the streets of London an 
explosive device and a bomb on a belt does not enchant the victims

Whole nations razed to the ground in ever changing coalitions to secure
pipe dreams and pipelines impress suffering and the Goddess of money

It does not suffice to point fingers at whose alleged allegiance started 
the madness and what oils the shrapnel and hunger of justice in vain

It matters what you and I do what the clowns in power who represent us
conclude in name of us minions who are mere pawns in circular fashion

The best way to achieve peace is not to fabricate another attack on
humanity but he or she who holds back severs the spiral of hatred


Premium Member America First: The Return of Common Sense

They said he was finished, his moment long gone,
Buried by headlines from dusk until dawn;
Yet voices of millions rang clear and concise —
A nation stood up for its freedom and rights.

From truck stops and town halls to docks in the rain,
Came Americans done with endless disdain;
They chose not the noise of the ruling class curse,
But a banner that reads: AMERICA FIRST.

Drill bits were turning, pipelines ran fast,
Energy freedom reclaimed at last;
Supply chains anchored in red, white, and blue,
Building again what Americans do.

No longer apologies spoken abroad,
But strength without bluster and peace built on God;
NATO found clarity, rivals took heed —
Firm hands & clear purpose, virtues we need.

Two hundred fifty years carved into stone,
From muskets at dawn to a nation full-grown;
The same rebel spirit still runs in our veins —
Self-rule, strong borders, and freedom sustained.

So mark this return not of man, but of sense:
Of duty and limits, of prudent defense;
Love him or not, one truth now rings clear —
America First is why hope reappeared.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member History Repeats In Dakota Territory

In my early teens (late 60's)
I remember it all
began
in my mind

Dad was driving us into
downtown Minneapolis
for church I think,

up ahead, a block or so,
the bob-lights on top of
2 cop cars was twirlin'
and  speakers were loopin'
that open-sore noise

then it went silent

but what caught our eyes
was, the 2 cops were standing
over a Native American sleeping
against a wall,

they picked him up,
all limp arms and legs

and chucked him into the
open trunk of their squad
car like they were swinging

gunnysacks of taters

dad was the first to say
something as we passed
by when the light changed

"the Indians got it rough
here in town, jimmy, 
gotta
help 'im when
you can, son"

50 yrs ago...
little has changed,
Dakota Oil injustice,

now near me puppet
heads
allowing pipelines
to disgrace sacred
Treaty Lands.

People gonna rise-up
again, and get water-blasted
off their feet & stuck with
them stingin' dam electric

stun-frizzle wires

like we were some
kinda human chimera
that needs to be
extinguished.

dads been gone 12 yrs
now

"gotta help 'im
when you
can, son"

...gotta
help 'im
when
I can

July '18
Minneapolis

Premium Member Id Like To Shake the Hand

Who defined
“certifiably insane”?
You see, it too closely 
defines those who are
running this world.

The place where technology steals jobs; 
Airplanes, crash more than they fly; 
Politicians are elected, 
based on the most…convincing…lies and bribes.

Where the archaic caste system, is making a comeback; 
where diseases are created to win wars 
and where medicines are created
to cause more sickness, then they cure.

A madhouse, where viruses are added to seeds, 
which become our food. 
Where no cure for cancer is ever found, 
although nature gave us many.
There’s too much money to be made in…research;
to find too many cures will create less jobs.
Where surgeons sell unnecessary surgeries, 
to enhance their lifestyle.

Where those without jobs or money, 
are forced to buy insurance or pay fines, 
yet politicians are exempt?
A psycho-drome where people disappear,
with no trace and human bodies are plasticized 
for exhibition?  Who are they, anyway?

Where genocide is an unpunished act,
if the initiator so chooses and
Where theatre-wars are created, 
for the profit of world leaders.
Where coal companies freely murder families 
and toxic pipelines trump, all human life.

Yes, who defined, “certifiably insane”?
That’s one hand, I’d like to shake…
the truly sane one.
Form: Prose

Let Nature Remain Uncoded

On a new land of reason, we number rivers and trees, organise wheat and barley in straight lines, – to call it a Progress.
Here, the Modern Prometheus stitches organs into circuits and Orders the manufactured being– Rise! It opens its algorithmic eyes and questions, ‘Am I your Adam or your half-baked desire to become God?’
In laboratories as dazzle as the Sun, we pour our future in glass beakers, and engineer Louise Joy Browns. “History is more or less bunk” Woods are mere tourist sights and garbage cans, Nanda Devi is impregnated with Plutonium-238.
The nature still welcomes all. Soil breathes through the concrete, Rhizomes entangle the cryptic pipelines, Rivers murmur against the hydraulic roar.
But we stroll through augmented valleys, where Nightingales sing in chorus, Tigers walk through the engineered corridors, Human lenses rectify wilderness, Nothing fails the Script!
Once, a poet urged: “Let nature be your teacher”. We responded with protocols, upgrades and – an Augmented Reality.
And yet –
When the digital sun sets, the gird falls down, and the synthetic Eden collapses, it will not be copper that remembers us. It will be the earth, carrying the Hard Drive of memories, relationships, laughs and tears. The earth will then nourish the seeds in gentle darkness to practice their feral return.
Let the future beat with a silicon heart – but let the woods refuse encoding. Let the AI assist mankind – not supplant human consciousness and emotional intelligence.
For if we encode the entire world to a grammar of circuits, we might perfect its structure, but lose the wilderness that makes us alive.


Premium Member Where's America's Can-Do Attitude

Where is America's 'can-do' attitude
    when it comes to the 2024 debacle
  If it's Biden against Trump again
    won't we feel we've been shackled --

  to a House of Horrors, chains on the left and the right
    Why won't we Americans even put up a fight
  Let's threaten the networks which air the debates
    that we'll shut off our tellies at a minute before eight 

  And as for primary voting, let's all vow to skip that
    If it's Biden vs. Trump -- How the hell can we stand pat
  Let's round up some candidates who'll go to the mat for Ukraine
    who are ready to dig pipelines and boost nuclear power again

  Candidates who intend to balance the budget THIS VERY YEAR
    not trick us with gimmicks, wherein massive deficits disappear  
  Candidates who know how to put the 'Woke' in their place
    and let go of the elites' obsession with gender and race  

  No more Men or women who snub their nose at our laws
    and berate those who challenge them with the lewdest guffaws
  Come on Americans, let's dig in and roll up our sleeves
    and round us up some Presidential timber before Autumn Equinox Eve
Form: Couplet

Premium Member They Call This Social Justice

Once our land stretched from coast to coast
and the drums of the people beat proud
we were mighty and we were strong
     we were happy . . . 
then the white came to our shores
they thought our land was theirs to take
they called it Canada
they brought disease unknown to us
when we fought for what was ours they killed us
    and we killed to . . .  
we were a savage people true and skilled at death
many of our chiefs were tricked to come in peace
     many of our chiefs were hung . . . 
                            they called this justice
             the whites stole our land and our way of life
they massacred the buffalo and bear only for their fur
and left their rotting bodies and we wept for them
the ancestors of our people fly with the eagles
drifting and falling on the wind
    their cry is our cry . . . 
we were herded into reservations like cattle
starved into submission and left a broken people
and they called this justice
but in each of us burns a fire bright that can never die
in each of us is a strength and courage
          a tranquility and serenity
we accept the past as the white acknowledge the wrongs
and the Prime Minister of Canada
is trying to say sorry
     with tears he apologizes to the people for 
the hangings
       the killing of our people
          the stealing of our land
            the 1960 scoop of our children
              the residential schools of abuse
                the highway of tears that goes on and on
yet, the social injustice to the people is still present today
             when they steal the land we have left
for pipelines, and other projects without our agreement
      we want to keep our lands pristine for wildlife
             we do not want polluted water where the fish die
some of us are living in third world conditions still
with no water, electricity, heat . . .  still on reservations
so you tell me where the justice is . . . 
I am just a girl of the here and now but
      but I hear the drums of my ancestors beating
                                      in my heart . . .

_____________________
April 1, 2018


Poetry/Free Verse/They Call This Social Justice
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1009-383-01
All Rights Reserved.  Written Under Pseudonym.

Written for the contest, Social Justice
sponsor, John Hamilton

First Place

Premium Member Reading the News

*ring* *ring* (A Facetime call)
Mom: “Hey hun, what’s up?”
Me: “Well, let’s see.. 
“We have an armed law enforcement that’s scared of the civilians they police.
One political party so corrupt it’s no longer interested in serving the people.
Half the population ignores the one real power mankind has - science.
Hackers shutting down pipelines, schools, hospitals and companies.
News networks that are allowed to just make up lies as “news”.
Half the population that’s determined to be uninformed.
Social media is destroying the minds of our children.
A political party that encourages its followers to die.
A world that’s quickly poisoning itself to extinction.
Religions that endorse obvious liars and guns.
An economy that depends on our self doubt.
Foreign enemies manipulating our elections.
A supply system on the verge of collapse.
A party encouraging resurgent racism.
A badly neglected infrastructure.
Inflation starting to heat up.
A near endless pandemic.
And a rape culture.”

Mom: after a moment of silence 

“Have you been reading the news again? You KNOW you tend to obsess.”

The Tempest

Do you feel the great turning, the maelstrom coming around, spitting sparks of searing birds that circle each other screaming in a language like pain? Blisters burning feathers, beaks and eyes till they ignite like flares spiralling in the tempest of this world. High performance vehicles lose their wings in ever-turning pressure, four by fours and pickups, thousand cc superbikes all spinning round and round. Their windows, bumpers, lights and panels flail off into airy channels, ricochet off stop lights scutter down the highway till they form an evil spout. Sucking up the houses, gardens, fences, trees and chickens, dogs and cats and mice and rats and farmyard animals. Spinning them so hard they break up turning and exploding like cartons spraying all across the town. Gaining pace the maelstrom grows, widens, sucks up earth and loess, strips the soil and grinds it up and spits it out. Spreads over the terrain, living feeding off the pain, sucking the last seeds from the fields. Finds the streams and all the rivers, cuts them out like veal and liver, eats them up like a cannibal. The sound is like a roar of terror, amalgam of all vicious weather, battering, beating, bruising every soul. And yet we won’t stop the oil fields, pipelines, stripping whole horizons just for dirty shale.

Effective Plans

It will take time
to phase out oil-based 
technology people from 
the oil industry

Could also be used
creating, pipelines
building desalination 
plants o get water 

Into the mountains
means plenty of work 
for people 
Imagine all the pipelines

you would have to create
Granted if we started today
with rich people buying electric cars
it would take time for that technology

To filter down to the poor
granted you all want jobs
you all want healthy economies
take time to change

Take time to adapt to change
create plans that include the needs 
of all people God created 
a balanced world

where nature had the ability
to clean the air 
and create a stable environment
in reclaiming arad lad

spreading plants into places 
they couldn't reach
in growing trees on mountains
that where arad before

you would be giving nature
the chance to heal the world
at one time the human race
through faeces into the street

urine and faeces in the street
created the breeding ground
for the plagues smallpox 
and many more 

The world looked at God and blame him
but in truth, it was their fault
they changed, they build toilets
they build sewage systems

They learned about viruses
they built hospitals 
they started scrubbing hands
they overcame their pollution problem

now we face another pollution problem
one man's problem 
is another man's challenge
working together 

We can overcome 
these problems
accepting climate change
is the first step

building plans 
taking time to effect change
helping people in a job transition
there is plenty of work for people

if we use our brains 
to make effective plans
Form: Narrative

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