Long Programmes Poems
Long Programmes Poems. Below are the most popular long Programmes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Programmes poems by poem length and keyword.
Now is the time to ask,
Now is the time for us to know,
Where have the Trillions gone,
That were supposed to right past wrongs,
That were meant to level the playing field,
To make opportunities more equal.
Now is the time to follow the money trail,
To find out if it was well spent,
On programmes that never deliver,
Or deliver just to one or two,
When it was intended for hundreds or even thousands.
It is time to ask why so many services are duplicated,
It is time to ask why the money paid for so many hangers on,
And so many office staff and people with degrees,
Who right up reports that look good on paper.
Now is the time to ask,
Where have the trillions gone,
Now is the time to ask,
Should we give the Money to robots,
Who, may put it to better use.
STAINS IN THE SANCTUARY ®
From the obnoxious obscenity
To the unorthodox immoralities
Personage of the perpetual Pentecostal pimps
Poisoned-Chalice in the mouth of a praying prostitute
Even the grey has not yet embraced self-control
Not too old for the renowned foolishness
Boys on the roll-call of Hades
Evade the tracks to your reserved seats
Searching for gadgets and toys rigorously,
Cruise choirs and programmes for ravishing beauties
Scavenging for pleasure instead of hunting for God
Scoop yourself from the hitlist of hell
Symptoms of residual sickening sins
Cling to the sleeves of church teens
We limit our emphasis on their actions
But forget to deal with desires behind the actions
As long as the patient peeps sat up
And maintain a positive confession
We cross over the realm lifting vain hands
But beneath the sheets patient is hemorrhaging,
Dying before our very own eyes
Dressed up in unblemished white linen
The church bleeds underneath
With sexual urge and high obsessions
Patient trapped in a vacuum
Just as much casualties of war as their buddies
Who died in the East Heracles,
War of immoralities rages
From the pews to the pulpits
Many Lazarus' raised but not loosed
While we raise and loose Judas'
Even from the altar of intercessions
Religion the painkiller ingested by the church
Only numbs the pain hiding the sickness cause
In need of deliverance is religion
On every soul to come loosed we will wait
Even on our knees with supplications, SOS
The greater the sore the more lengthy the recovery
But we will heal from the marrow
A projection from the outer body we'll witness
Because Christ cometh for a bride without blemish.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2016.
Children with candy floss and wands of bright plastic,
Anticipation of the big top fantastic -
“Affordable family fun!”
The circus has come to town.
A carnival and a frisson of people,
The smell of the diesel,
It's magical and visceral –
Intense.
There's a girl in hoop earrings
Stands ready and steady and poised at the entrance,
Beckons our queue, guides us on through.
Later in sky blue and diamonds,
She’ll balance the line
Of the high tight rope walk.
To the right, a big burly man,
A wandering vendor of neon lit sabres -
“As you've never seen him before!”
Will throw a precision of knives at his wife.
Twenty years she has whirled in her satin and modesty chiffon,
On her own wheel of fortune.
To the left, there's a girl in an ordinary sweatshirt,
Wide spangled hairband, at a stand where pink sugar is spun.
Soon, she'll be spectacular!
Twirling on ribbons and ropes.
Belief suspended on the thrill of her peril,
Her grace.
We’ll be spellbound.
Sounds surround us as we take our seats ringside,
The beautiful boy selling programmes
Will descend,
Perform a daredevil act.
Our necks strained as we look
To the infinite blue of a tarpaulin sky -
Trapeze artist high -
He'll fly and he'll never grow older.
Dream big.
And then come the men,
Louder and bolder,
Selling bottomless buckets of popcorn and pop,
Sweet, salted and fizzy,
Between sets, they'll be busy.
A cascade of jugglers and clowns.
The big gestures of jesters and tumbling chaos -
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!”
And too soon the showtime is over,
We spill back out into the park,
Blinking into the afternoon,
Rare and recount the fleeting visions of awe and wonder.
Tomorrow the circus will have packed up and gone.
Leaving behind just a fairy circle of flattened grass
And the ghosts of muddy tyre tracks.
Born into a privileged position
The Gracchi and Kennedys were on a mission
A violent end was to be their common fate
With vested interests full of rage and hate
Their new programmes threatened the status quo
And prompted the dealing of the killer blow
Centuries apart, they both wanted reform
Championing the poor brought to them great harm
If the Gracchi's progressive plans were to win the day
The senate felt its power would pass away
Land reform and franchise extension the ruling class could not tolerate
They feared the concilium plebis would carry too much weight
Allowing tribuni plebis to gain too much power
Crucial steps were needed by the senate at this critical hour
Violent deaths turned out to be the Gracchi's lot
The people lost what they had sought
History is oft claimed to be repetitive
The Kennedys' careers were closely imitative
A crackdown on crime and improving civil rights
Panicked those who opposed such fights
Where the Kennedys heralded an era of hope
Those under threat from this programme could not cope
Their death warrants were signed for what they stood
Both were gunned down vengefully in cold blood
In each instance when their hopes died
Politics rode roughshod over the people's pride
A brighter future for those in need of care
Was ended by vested interests' callous warfare
Mother Teresa
She is the mother of every poor people, injured people, ordinary people...
Always we remember the great news
'Mother Teresa will get the Nobel Peace Prize.'
It was one of the best moment in our life...
She lived in our city Kolkata (Calcutta) .
She ate our Bengali foods.
She loved us so much...
One day, I was twelve years old
I met her at Mother House along with my parents.
I looked at her heavenly eyes.
I touched her sacred feet and hands.
I heard her divine speeches.
I love her innocent smile.
I told her only the sentences,
'You are the mother of the world,
Mother of my parents.
So you are my grandmother.'
My father hesitated. My mother was silent.
Mother Teresa said to me with smile,
'GOD BLESS YOU MY SON'
Today my eyes are full of tears
Mother, I miss you.
I love you so much....
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
(Mother Teresa founded the Missionaries of Charity, a Roman Catholic religious congregation, which in 2012 consisted of over 4,500 sisters and is active in 133 countries. They run hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDS, leprosy and tuberculosis; soup kitchens; dispensaries and mobile clinics; children's and family counselling programmes; orphanages; and schools. Members of the institute must adhere to the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, and the fourth vow, to give "wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor".
Mother Teresa was the recipient of numerous honours including the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize. In 2003, she was beatified as "Blessed Teresa of Calcutta". A second miracle credited to her intercession is required before she can be recognised as a saint by the Catholic Church.)
Pause a brief moment, stop and think,
now go back in time, back to a time
before cars came along,
back to when you just had radio.
An age when one knew their neighbour
and travel was only as necessary.
The village bobby always knew where to look
and crime was just off the petty kind.
A time without the telly (quite amusing)
when families truly communicated.
No films or programmes putting ideas into heads
increasing the crime rate of much more terrible crimes.
Newspapers telling us what they think we want to hear
intruding into people's private space then,
showing their own distorted view of who we are.
Bringing to our attention all that is happening.
Now we come to the Crux, the heart of things
without these advances, some so miraculous
would we be better off without them?
I leave you, my reader to decide.
There is no sense
In being victim of another's
Feelings
And ugly ego
And hypocrysy
Of them
File systems
And extensions
Of this system
I'd rather loose the image of your S.T.E.M.
Philosophy and math are being image
In systems Knowledge they're developing for you
Your progress is percentage execution
Remaining sane and free in system this are few
Expectancy, life length
Of this the Quantum Zoo
Experiences you might never to encounter
Production of the image to the word
The Operating System psych your under
Implanted by the usage by the bot
So much development of them
So much Robotics
Miners, ant servers, rigs, platforms and these
You really need to have some special competence
For field of this the area to be the expertise
I mean what for reforming were we the C the Language
Complexity the greater to achieve in aftermath
Active activity of the Missile Defense
Vampires drenching
Computability of the ideal path
The loss of programmes familiar and used to
Mind reconsiderations and assessments re again
Uncertain modest to in fact is rather value
Brief moment
And excert the intercept
Gain for the gains since in this there is no gain
Watching several events, happening by the creek
kookaburra arrived and is perching in the trees
He has a tiny lizard firmly grasped, within his beak
Head tilts back, lizards gone, with a mighty scoff
many green leaves rustling in the cooling breeze
No longer seen, blue wing kookaburra has flown off
Eucalypts are exuding a golden yellow bloom
a strong scent attracting blue banded native bees
Rainbow bee-eaters hover, many bees they do consume
Kangaroos are hopping by, stirring clouds of dust
feel a nasal tickle, there's now a need to sneeze
Suddenly the breeze becomes a strengthened gust
Scrub python awaits, for an unsuspecting prey
Green tree frog! Jaws quickly snap! A rapid seize
Now coils,self sufficiency it has been done today
Flying foxes, are screeching through the night
consuming all the fruit an appetite to appease
Early morning, thousands of bats now out in flight
A multi coloured male Cairns bird wing butterfly
a seasonal common sight to surely please
In diverse vegetation, he goes gently floating by
A Tube nose bat, is suspended upside down
Maybe this position will stretch both her knees
Perhaps she's exhausted from many hours flown
Plague proportion of grey rabbits, throughout Australian land
In the eighteen hundreds introduced from overseas
Unsuccessful eradication programmes, times many planned
I wonder how the latest let say woods in this side of world are wishing to grow how
clattering all the ways somehow non chalant, somehow
withering flea and folly.
the problem is not even the furnance so to say
even though we will never waste much time let say
growing perishable tomatoes.
Of course farmers of tomatoes are necessary and
the other blossomings-
the problem of tendency is the woods nowadays, behold
whatever windows and doors?.
Yes, don't tell me that some biscuits and other cookies
will help to enliven peaceful parties and programmes.
There's no such thing as sacred
For the rational domain
Of proper logic
Where the majority of stupid
Aren't the main
For the impact their activity occur
And their needs disturbing the the State
Their demands and schizophrenia
Of their idiotic logic
Against whatever truly what appears sane
Cult of the humans
And the self-imposed
Those who live in image rather then be real
The engines that attempt to own and control
Where the convention, treaty and agreement
Aren't the deal
Poor vocabulary and illiterate speech
No buisness, threats, weird semantics
And no clarity
Impeach
Yet not in favour of the counterparts of them
Because it's neither that produce this real logic
There is no gold attached to money, neither crypto
And the Uranium enriched
Whatch what you say because the precedent is ditto
When psychopath will sue the psychiatrist
In order to assume equal defense
Become assured
That the theatrical defense of theirs
In fact determined is as the another yet offense
Offense to proper logic
And the real judgement
A crime against existence of the mental health
When there is no triangle of the Karpman
Nor the victim
Responsibility is individual process
Process complexity of court
Beyond this stupid limited the pair
Create the precedent ad interests of the sales
And profits
May coercing you as well
With programmes
The real the indictment is beyond
The capability of yours?
Do face