Long Progenies Poems
Long Progenies Poems. Below are the most popular long Progenies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Progenies poems by poem length and keyword.
The morning sun hovers coyly
behind broad shoulders of the John Crow Mountain
before unwrapping petals of fever plant and Venice.
Mama’s countenance was far contrast to one so radiant,
so when the old Leyland bus went shuddering along gravel road
the first beams break through pinewood forest.
The old New Hampshire Red was up last night,
bamboozled by the plump moon,
but all was still in the petite hours ‘fore daybreak.
His first boast was far too late;
Banties have already blown their tops,
and warm rays long ago penetrated rabbit fence.
Leghorns proudly announced fresh eggs.
Beds were unoccupied and unmade.
Voices came, children in euphoria;
oppressors were off to nine to five.
Nightingale sang an encore
before morning forage,
and gaiety commences.
Brown skinned pickneys,
like the color of the Balaclava clay,
with reflections of innards on innocuous visages.
The hoopla lived until the Leyland snaked along treacherous drop
and the sun hastened to avoid mama’s air.
Chores rushed,
and mama voice ruined our names.
Tomorrow, at first light, we will be children again.
Most of us have heard of lands where dogs licked their humans’ faces
and are driven about in carriages in nappies,
while we loathe our predicament
some counterparts wrestle in grown-ups’ arenas;
innocence lost to palm wine and brown-brown,
and blood moves consciences far less than September’s rain.
Will tomorrow’s shoots be allowed to be children,
delightful progenies?
Let the bright sun shine on Columbia, Cambodia, Guatemala, and Sierra Leone.
Some children growing up in towns,
Wear sallow faces, sullen frowns.
Streetwise urchins, Jack the lads,
Reminiscent of their dads.
Guttersnipes roam nine to five,
Scrounging food banks to survive.
Toerags daily flout the rules,
Playing truant from rundown schools.
Destitutions plain to see,
With children trapped in poverty.
Urban dwellings, tumbldown,
In the poorest parts of town.
Suburban children lives are fine,
Where peevish youngsters often whine.
For pocket money, mobile phones,
Sadly lacking strong backbones.
Little lords and lady muck,
Born with silver spoons to suck.
Dolly daydreams, demand, designer dresses,
Constantly combing cioffured tresses.
Horrid Hooray Henries, haughty asses,
Pretend to be from upper classes.
Riding lessons, will, in due course,
See little madams gain their own horse.
Suburban life is plain to see,
Where children live in luxury.
Upmarket homes maintained with care,
The sweet smell of success, everywhere.
But the beating heart of any town,
Are children neither up nor down.
These children work hard to succeed,
While helping those who are in need.
Down to earth, no airs or graces,
Pleasant smiles upon their faces.
They live in solid stone abodes,
Down narrow streets and cobbled roads.
No leafy lanes for these progenies,
That are the blossoms on their family trees.
10/ 8/ 2019.
,
Don't you remember the summer when we first woo each other, and, that same summer we made out?
We were so pure to the ways of life, my love, don't you remember?
Don't you remember my love, the day we laid hidden in a vast cornfield, hobnobbing with the true armyworms?
The smell of rotten flesh from the highway, a mile away was cruel to our nostrils, but soon became accustomed. Nothing could disperse our rhapsody.
Our bodies were on fire, as we scramble to remove our clothes. With great peremptory measures, we tried to swallow each other tongue. It was glorious .
I felt your hot hands all over me, and I traveled to the sun and back Our minds were one, and our bodies became one as we pleasure each other to the rhythmic, and repeated patterns of that of a gusty drum.
Let your mind, my love, travel back to the time when; we were still crazy in love through all the hard and treacherous times, and we sang not one sorrowful song. our love stood bravely against this ruinous world.
Squeeze my hand, dear love, if you remember how the divine sparks of our love created beautiful progenies to leave this musical legacy of our love.
Now that the light of the eve of our years are fading, the musical splendor of our love is everlasting, and ever sounding like Beethoven Moonlight Sonata
Sleep deep and soundless my love, in confident that the music of our love is so tender and eternal.
copyright under Labyrinth of Life
Children At Risk
Every time I hear a child has been neglected
and vastly un protected.
Parents and caretakers have the most important
job of the world,
To raise and mold a boy or girl.
It breaks my heart.
We are tearing the children apart.
We have failed them with our stupidity, sicknesses,
Passiveness and crimes
These things have been done since the beginning of time
We are tearing the children apart
With our greed
Sickly and unnatural need
With our cruelty and abuse
Leading to deadly misuse
Of our positions
And screwed up missions
We’ve taken children from the Aborigines
Some of them biracial
Many progenies of Australia’s elite
Moved them to an island because it was discreet
It was out of sight out of mind.
People were being blind.
We’ve put children in England in orphanages
Because status quo said parents were causing damages
We’ve taken Indian children from reservations
To blend them into civilization.
We’ve enslaved Black children on plantations
Reasoning it is good for the nations
All this done by those in status quo
Because of reasoning we said so.
For the children facing starvation
In India, Africa, Somilia, Ethiopia
and other nations
Who have bombs
But no food and care for there little ones
There is the Tuskegee experiment, hole in the head
Where nothing was said
Indoctrination of the wrong kind
Interfering with a child’s mind.
Summer speaks to me by waking me up early
Playing tunes of beautiful song bird melodies
Blowing cool breezes in early mornings
Creating chimes of rustling tree leaves
She speaks to me through marvels of elaborate spider webs
Through various trees’ dazzling green shades
Through fascinating designs on butterfly wings
Through flutters of humming birds and dances of dragonflies
She speaks to me by offering plums, peaches and numerous berries
And various melons, figs and delicious cherries
Growing scrumptious tomatoes in the garden for my luxury
Exhibiting vivacious blooms on rose bushes and crape myrtle trees
She speaks to me shining bright through brilliance of sunlight
Warming the afternoons and dehydrating grasses on hillsides
Crafting radiant sunsets and captivating afterglows of twilight skies
Generating buzzing mosquitoes in stillness of evenings’ dim lights
She speaks to me through an astonishing sight of a skunk mama and her adorable babies
Showing a watchful face of a raccoon sitting in an oak tree
Displaying an occasional slithering of a rattler or a snake native
Birthing numerous insects and active lizard progenies
Through magnificence of marvelous starry nights
Through frog croaks and cricket lullabies
Through precious waters of the lake
Summer speaks to me and I listen with gratitude in my heart……
Kenya A Hotbed Of Awes
Hahaha! Hahaha!
Do not get me wrong!
As they crave for the savoury outdoor success,
As they are mounted and motivated to hoist the flag of their motherland high,
They spread the indomitable terror to others,
They shake the mighty powerhouse,
That shows you that they are team Kenya,
Under the unification of their national anthem,
A hotbed of untamed talent,
A cradle of humankind,
The genesis of absolute history making,
It is the team Kenya, proud team Kenya.
See how records wobbles when it hears Kenya?
Witness how silverware, tries to shun away,
When they feel the long gaits spreading on tracks,
And mighty prowess shooting the spear, of goal orienting success,
Proud the team Kenya,
Open your eyes to see the seismic smiles,
To salute the flag Kenya on podium,
As the country joins the team to anthem the supremacy baked by her progenies,
You might awe it or not,
But she send her progeny to spread the terror,
Indeed Kenya is a hotbed of terror,
Am proud Kenyan, proud team Kenya
Yellow, red, blue, orange, magenta, purple, and green
are the colors of a perfect rainbow.
These hues flicker like a beautiful bow.
Yes, this is the valley of castles, riches and dreams.
Knights with shields and armor protect this terrain
No one may enter or leave the valley unknown.
Those who cross the river will be rightfully known.
The magic of the rainbow guards all who are not sane.
One day two children displeased the palaces folk
and went away from the land of rainbow
They trekked over the waters high and low,
both progenies searched for gold and playful foe.
When the cavaliers held the children on kingly property
they took them to the palace for penance.
It was a sorry moment for these two adolescents
there young remorseful grins granted them sympathy.
The country of colorful rainbows and circumstance
beckon all who enter with stories of treasures.
Those who leave have memories of great adventures,
But the power of the rainbow brightens only the prominence.
Perspired with pertinacity to bring up their progenies cozily,
Indescribably fondled them to make them smile forever !
Built brick by brick their dreams about their off springs,
Hoped they would be cared in their twilight existence !!
Attained bread-winner status and focused on their selfish ends,
But nonchalant towards the plights of the *** of their lives !
Not shared their anguish and joy played hide-seek with them,
Immeasurable is their love which brings no ecstasy to them !!
Dawned on them are the trials and tribulations,
Unheeded are their biological clock reminders of their hunger !
Precluded them their self-esteem from mendicanting,
Pestering hunger enfeebled them day-by-day!!
Villainous were they to throw the old ones from their home,
Knew nothing where to go and stay!
Marched out without destination,
Accompanied them their tears and sorrows !!
Ponderously made it to a place to seek shelter,
There a good Samaritan took care of them !!
Threshold(s) Hail thee
The path that delivers I will elevate;
For the life that lives deserves whole eternal,
In the place of rest that saints will dominate.
The many battles fought to safeguard a trait,
To let a brood with no lore of nominal.
The path that delivers I must elevate.
Not she rests assured by nature’s salvage date.
This life yet renders bosoms for cardinal:
To nourish…, enrich this trait to dominate.
From ‘yes’ I breathe to still ‘no’ I defecate.
These, I owe house of notional tribunal.
For that life’s deliverance I will elevate.
Progenies I, owe this life that promulgate
News of me to flora and fauna’s astral.
I owe this life for those gifts to dominate.
Nerve not she got, to stand tests to procreate
Won’t my lines have been thrown in lone nocturnal?
This path that delivers I will elevate,
To the place of rest that saints will dominate.
©A.O, 4/4/2014.
Dedicated to my mother and my father. And parents alike.
You want them to be as yourself, morally depraved ever reaching
Towards the darkness; to further these covert, self-serving agendas ?
Sprinkling a bit of powdered sugar atop of Phi Beta Kappa's nose; scholastic
Piranhas aspiring to one day don the coveted dictatorial pitch black robes....
A true Pharisee in contemporaries era apart from this circumcision such mockery
Shadow boxing with your own ignorance but you want the world to be just like you ?
Raping hearts stripping souls these harlots chasing ghost their fathers sold
Amid verbalisms golden wagons crossing this new frontier and crossbone bottles
Purchased from her progenies pharmacy at Havard's school of bend to breaks
Subjugatings oppressive dogmatic law ? Refusing to enter Light's temple..
While chaining others these children blinding their eyes barriers aside your
Pagan's pain judicial refrain morally depraved ever reaching ?
...."Martha, I Am the resurrection." *
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