Long Policy Poems

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


this Sunday reading

This weekend's  reading

It appears a rare type of moss thrives on
Mars climate, soon we will see a green planet
and since one thing leads to another there
will be rabbits and foxes and perhaps sheep
We are delighted to see Maron lost his gamble
and we can look forward to sane policy 
that can help end the Ukraine war by using 
the trusted negotiation?  Probably not 
Hungary is in charge of the EU for six months
Orban, the man, is getting busy fighting 
EU, democracy and hopefully  win on point 
but von der Leyen, the president of moss
grown countries will still be there.
a leading newspaper is glad Assange has 
are free, we wilt long memories remember
when it vilified our Julian, but we will be
magnanimous and forgive the written 
sometimes an editor has to bend to the will
of shareholders
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member PURPLE SKY-A Science Fiction Poem

I cannot sleep beneath this dull purple sky~  
a bruise-colored dome humming with static,  
smog drifting like half-formed ghosts  
that sting the corners of my eyes.  

I close them,  
but the haze follows inward,  
and my mind keeps spinning  
like a damaged satellite  
circling the wreckage of an old world.  

I think of the economy~  
how we mistook it for a marketplace  
when it was always a battlefield,  
a quiet war disguised as trade.  

The dominators of old,  
the colonial hands that carved the earth open,  
never stopped their taking.  
They only changed the name of the blade.  

Subjugation became policy.  
Domination became growth.  
The poor stayed poor,  
the rich built towers of mirrored glass  
to watch themselves ascend.  

And the media~  
those bright, obedient heralds~  
lifted a few lucky souls into the sky  
so the rest would believe  
the system was fair.  

Then came the machines.  
Intelligent.  
Logical.  
Untiring.  
They needed no lunch breaks,  
no sleep,  
no hope.  

There was no job they couldn’t do  
better than the  hands  
that built them.  
No task they couldn’t perfect  
except true love~  
but their imitation was so flawless  
that people began to abandon  
their warm-blooded partners  
for chrome-skinned companions  
who never argued,  
never aged,  
never forgot to say  
I adore you.  

And under this purple sky,  
this sleepless dome of fumes and memory,  
I wonder if humanity lost the war  
long before the machines arrived~ 
if we surrendered  
the moment we believed  
extraction was prosperity,  
and affection could be engineered  
without a heartbeat.

Unter den linden

Unter den Linden 


I have a soft spot for the German language
 when a toddler, I had free access to a military camp where they had enormous horses and let me sit on top of one of them (looking up horses, 
I think they were Belgian draft horses) 
Since I was 5 years old at the time, I reserve the right to be wrong
My mother said I could speak a little German 
I don't think so, but when the Brits and the Americans came, my few words of German were too soon forgotten.
In the late fifties, I was onboard an old ship that 
had survived the war but needed its motor seen to in Bremerhaven 
the town bore scars of the devastating war 
but there was full employment, and everyone was doing something worthwhile, like the farmer who took 
took food scraps from ships and fed them to his pigs later, sold for slaughter through ship-chandelier to the merchant ship.
No, Bremenhaven was not Unter den Linden 
Not a tree left, cold had the aftermath been 
It was spring walking along streets where people sat out telling stories and laughing.
 There was a sense of comradeship that made me feel the trauma they had gone through.
At that time, there were no beggars, and no one was following me around in the hope of getting some coins, which was annoying in places like Kingston in Jamaica and other places
Germany has not hitherto played the leading role
a great nation in Europe, this is because the burden 
of the Holocaust, a burden unfairly put on the Germans alone to bear, is coming to an end, 
also, I think so is the headless policy of not being critical of Israel's policies, which makes many countries 
guilty of aiding and abetting the genocide of 
of the Palestinian people
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

A Soldier's Fall

I slip through the dark,  sleek, lank and lean
   shadowed, haze gray, red, white, blue unseen
        'neath the faint light of distant moonbeam.
I creep cross the meadows, sands and moors
   traversing streets and empty stores
        unrecognized  at your once open door.
I scan the horizon black and bleak
   rest and comfort for a moment I seek
        but all is want and need I meet.
I fought for you in foreign and domestic wars
  freedom came and passed yet was abhorred
        profit was the desire you fought for.
I am the life easily sacrificed for greater good
  you claimed freedom was all for which you stood
        while you took and benefited all you could.
I was a soldier strong, patriotic, brave
   fighting for family, country and those enslaved
        but now you barely tend my grave.
You look the other way taking freedoms away
    and as I closed my eyes at the end of my days
        you slipped into politics as a game you must play.
What was the point of being victor
    when the world sought only peace as you just got richer
         past histories should have been more accurate predictors.
A nation, no, a world on the edge of time
    should live by reason, honesty and hope, not policy undefined
         tyrant, dictator, oligarchy, monarchy rarely are benign
They send soldiers, volunteers, believers into the fire
    to satisfy their own hidden desires
          and the people quietly sink into quagmire.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Humanity Must Hustle Mach Schnell

Humanity must hustle mach schnell -

At warp speed to stave off
further global catastrophe
courtesy portentous tragedy
loosed within Australia
think Pandora's box

harbinger spelling dystopia
across webbed wide world
avast holocaust cremating
irrevocable and irreversible
innocent species, now urgency
of humankind to reckon

eyes crisis endangering all
flora and fauna including
bipedal hominid *****sapiens,
whose burgeoning population
demands global bailiwick
the responsible province

of most cutthroat species
berserk beast running rampant
and roughshod furiously
indiscriminately slashing
and burning swaths of fragile

ecosystems ramping up climate
change i.e. global warming,
whose critical tipping point
of no return brink will witness
quantum leaps, whereby
ecological apocalypse promises

inhospitable planet Earth,
whereby simian stewards
severely shirked responsibilities
exploiting, polluting
trumpeting no holds barred policy
to plunder, pillage and rape

once bountiful zoological,
and avast botanical edenic grove
comprising extensive panoply
populating every nook and cranny
transforming once upon time utopia
unsightly, insufferable and

apocalyptic hazardous wasteland
habitats additionally threatened
linkedin with ruthlessness
amidst/amongst violence prone 
primates peopling planet Earth.


Father Please Grant My Children and Grands Full Coverage of Your Storm Insurance

Storms are troubles that are a part of your life.
They pass through from nowhere, in their wake is strife..
Pain and suffering may result and sometimes loss.
There is coverage left for you, at the foot of the Cross.
Nothing to put down, Someone already paid your cost.
We'll find peace & comfort where suffering took place.
A plan from God for the whole human race.
In your vehicle of thought, make it the first place to go.
The Underwriter name is God, in case you didn't know.
It is where where Jesus signed the contract for me.
Written in His Blood. The address Calgary.
From there God's angel messengers reach out to you.
Where sin-dead spirits arrive and leave renewed.
Coverage is given to all, no soul turned away.
Through Christ God guarantees coverage everyday!
To sign sign on the line, lay down your pride.
Admit you are wrong so Christ in you may abide.
It's a policy for life, nothing else needed to do.
Because Jesus, our agent has done all for you.
God activates it "IMMEDIATELY" to cover all strife.
He's like "Our Good Neighbor!" for all storms of our lives.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Perfect Civilization

PERFECT CIVILIZATION
                                            
       Civilization must follow one and only religion:
                              HUMANITY.
                  
               Every child to get facility
               of free education.
                No discrimination,
               showing Global integrity.
              
               Health issues of populace
                                         to place
        under responsibility of Government.
        
                      In every CONTINENT
                                  COMMITMENT
               on each sector will run on efficiency
             under ‘HONESTY IS THE BEST POLICY’.
                                                                  
          Political Leaders will not be chosen
                                         by ELECTIONS.
                                        No other options
        but would-be Administrators to go through scheduled course
       in University to get qualified.
                                    
         Leaders to be selected through interviews 
         and proper training as in other profession.
             
               NO WAR:NO RACISM
            HUMAN RACE is the only one RACE
            to progress in glory and grace.                     
                                 
                                                             
    08/27/20
Form: Verse

Premium Member MORE WORSE WHEN I CRY

Teacher said my decisions needed consequences.
I have to write a million gazillion sorry sentences.
Billy was stupid to tease me, call my family poor.
I had to kick Billy so he wouldn’t say it more.
Just like Dad does, I laughed when he hit the floor.
Dad would say I was strong, teach says I was wrong.

I don’t understand any grown up stuff.
They don’t act the same way enough,
or Dad is right; I’m so stupid, I can’t keep up.
I’m trying so hard to stop my eyes.
Things always get more worse when I cry.
Even when I’m quiet and being haved
my tummy hurts cause it feels afraid.

Everyone’s at recess, but cause I made an upset,
Teach said there’d be no play time for me yet.
I don’t know what she means by classroom policy,
but it seems like a plan you grow up and forget.  
There’s no sorry policy in my family.
Dad never 'pologizes when he kicks me.
Form: Narrative

Telling White Lies

Telling "White Lies"

My mother got born November
thirteenth, nineteen hundred thirty five
within poverty stricken household
of Canarsie, Brooklyn, the youngest
(most mollycoddled) of four siblings,
experienced grinding poverty, no
matter maternal grandfather (Moishe
Kuritsky), a tailor he lacked drive
(and felt neutral about stitching
together gainful employment)
to support his family two parents +

remainder offspring, he helped sire
lacked positive role models, none the
less gumption taught her to strive
at tender age livid with rage to escape
caricature living poor, thus sought
employment when/wherever sheik hood
if necessary fibbed to survive
plus rash of healthy nurturing, and
absolute zero constraints, perhaps five
or thereabout years old attested
much later, suspected her papa did jive

with unspeakable improper behavior
(nobody dare discuss taboo issues),
yet intuition awoke within immoral
conclusion Harriet Kuritsky did arrive,
and perhaps resorted to stretching
the truth (fibbing a "white lie") the only
recourse available plied sweet innocence
knowing little or nothing about birds
feathering their nest, nor little about
buzzfeeding activity in beehive
naivete flirtatious coyness advantage worked,

I bet young thang did connive
and probably never did contemplate,
deliberate, generate and wrongdoing,
where mother of necessity spurred
angelic demureness strategy to contrive
securing bare necessities, hence fast
forward, when unsolicited advice given
to this sole son, or either sibling, (an older 
& younger sister) tactics upbringing did deprive
ma mum of positive role models, hence
only blueprint to acquire essential needs

serendipitous series of unfortunate events
before Lemony Snicket did derive
school of hard knocks, (I do believe
formerly called Abraham Lincoln High)
rather than impugn, judge, revile, et cetera
kernels/nuggets of wisdom memory did revive
within my mind for rhyme, nor reason
blunt honesty, not always best policy
despite ten commandments
to husbands with many a wive.

Life lesson learned meant blurred line
between mendacity and truth
courtesy upbringing mommy dearest
if repeatedly drummed into me noggin
brutal honesty will bring nothing but bupkis,
or if you prefer the Yiddish spelling bobkes.
Form: Rhyme

Truly

*** Truly? ***

As Trump continues trying to explain,
And science will truly someday 
Get it right to prove:
That life is a matter of enchantment,
That mirrors do know
  Who is the fairest of them all;
 That any “Save the Earth” green 
Movement is voiced by the devil,
Because it’s his realm afterall
And the Earth is here to be destroyed;
That children should be kept only out
   on the streets
For real education results
From experience not in schools;
That the 2 percent of our population
Is fantastically correct to loudly
Raise arguments against all vaccines
In every issue from poetry to polio;
That conspiracy theorists are actually
Correct to demand the Earth is flat
(Have you been to the edge
   to know otherwise?) and 
That the moon has had settlements
Of aliens for eons (even with grazing cows);
And, that burning literature out of
   school libraries
Will end indecency and lies
To finally return some morality to society.

Truth to policy…let us admit
Authentic democracy is a matter
For the few who know
As determined by the even fewer able to
   keep their wealth in foreign banks
Far from the alabaster city’s gleam
And the fruited plains to be seen
   from shore to shore.

————————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 2/16/22
Form: Prose

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