Long Production line Poems
Long Production line Poems. Below are the most popular long Production line by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Production line poems by poem length and keyword.
Mother! you weep for your son, and another son
and yet another son! Fodder to the misshapen morals of this world! Shot in cold blood! Again and again! Each bullet screaming out the rage of hatred!
What God would train a piece of metal that way? Hear those voices singing hymns of some unseen spiritual head! The rattle of words that become rattle of guns! this battle ground was once the land of the cultured, the civilised! Cradles harboured love, schools values, and life was a journey of joy!
Oh! mother who has made your womb a production line of such despondency?
Every child born is a victim of savagery! Savage who pulls the trigger or the victim at the end of the nozzle are both from a mother’s womb!
Mother! Who do you pray to for justice? Your religion has been marketed and sold too! Tall architectures that speak of God, let loose on us the designs of the devil!
Where do we run and hide mother?
If only you all had the powers to refuse to lend your flesh and blood to be made victims of this insane land!
Oh, Mother! Let us all start afresh! Let us create a world, where every child born can be shown love and be taught that this human land was designed for peace and happiness!
Oh, Mothers of this world, it is time to stop your flood of tears! Only mothers know the heartbreak of a lost child!
Every tomb harbours tears that was once a reason of joy when in the womb!
The world watches silently as the injustices continue unabated! Yet we have faith in the power of mothers! In your purity of love that only your heart can generate, that may one day make us all realise that we are all children of the same mother. Mother, you are nature, and Nature is Mother!
i dont memorize poems i experience them.
so im not impressed by your ability to regurgitate then
because NOW is the moment that we are inspired
through inspiration by the power thats considered much higher
now impressive you are to the masses that attend
but to a true poet like myself you do nothing but offend
you spew phrases and thoughts like a production line machine
artificial intelligence, a robot! a predicated line of memes
you see nothing wrong with putting on a facade for your fans
however i find it kind of odd how you let worms crawl out your can
you imprison inspiration in the psyche of your mind
throw away the key and call for father time
you have no respect for thoughts and the spark within the mind
regret is all that is brought to the consciousness of humankind
there's no connect the dots when you're indoctrinated by the lie
but i know a thickened plot by the look in your eye
im the old school mind and thoughts of inspiration at its best
when poetry came from consciousness not a heaping pile mess
Moved out to the country, isolated and without a car, I don’t know what I would have done without my new friends Mrs. Juhas and Mrs. Gatien. They forced me to call them by their first names, it only became easier once the friendship deepened. Ida took me into town for grocery shopping every week. We’d do the rounds based on the sales flyers from A&P, IGA and Dominion. Vi only had two children compared to my six and Ida’s seven. Every week we had a cookday alternating with Vi and Ida, one week at our place the next at theirs. Hostesses buying the food and deciding on the meals to make: chili con carne, cabbage rolls, spaghetti sauce… The priority was obvious, it was more important to buy a freezer than a washing machine.
hungry bellies fed
families on a budget
smooth production line
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Working 9 to 5
The constant rumble of the fans above my head,
That cool me down, so I don't feel too tired.
The crashing bangs, of heavy metal things,
As the machines continue to work,
To produce metal sheets.
The thunderous press machine,
Thumps another piece of metal,
As the production line keeps moving,
Full of different people.
Each of them standing, in their own specific spot;
Capable of breaking the chain,
If one of them is gone.
So just hang your metal onto the track;
The thing that made me quit before, but I came back.
And now here I am, stronger and wiser,
Better than before;
Now they've offered me the job full time.
But I know, I can do better than this,
For I wish to be a poet, an author and a lyricist.
I just keep looking at the clock,
Waiting for another minute to pass.
Damn! I'm sure it's stopped;
I've surely been here longer than that.
No; it's just because,
I'm not using my head
And thinking to make time pass quicker
And not just waiting for it to be 10.
At last! It's here, we all give a silent cheer,
Or a sigh of relief, that the day is done.
At last, now we can all go home.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Leap Of Fatal Faith
Another battle fought and the shops are empty
Easter Bunnies in the production line can’t wait
I need money and lots of it for next year’s round
I hereby patent my golden turkey for survival
Little chocolate tank tracks and marzipan bullets
Cream covered shrapnel and gingerbread limbs
Toffee filled bomb shells nougat for camouflage
Sugar iced tent cities and plenty of tin soldiers
Refugees bubble gum boats standing no chance
Wars are for life and not a mess just for Christmas
With my bank account swelling there must be some
Sense in the day after Christmas so jump jubilate
Celebrate at your fatal peril and my sweet surprise