Long Revolted Poems
Long Revolted Poems. Below are the most popular long Revolted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Revolted poems by poem length and keyword.
My country is the beautiful sun
My country is not the hard winter
My country is an often green Eden
Always languid and tropical at dawn.
It’s a country where the crowing of roosters
Revives everybody every morning
It’s a country furnished with filthy slush and rocks
Where nature is a vast and miserable garden.
It's a country full of horrid stories
Where slaves and decent people are revolted
Against greedy settlers and bloody buccaneers
It’s where only macabre memories exist.
In this awful and morose atmosphere
Where I banter all that is negative
I will build positive monuments
I will dream and recite fables.
My country is the moonlight
Which gives hope and strength to fight
Against masked and zombified
Bogeymen. Oh! God, I hold no grudges.
My country is the ever positive imagination
Presently, I don't want to denounce anyone
However, I will silence the chiming bells
Oh! It's sad to see my people on the exodus
Near the evacuative shores.
P.S. Gilles Vigneault, this poem is
For you and our people.
Copyright © January 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Automobile industry
At the seaside, the water signaled many colors
pale sober gin, dark hue, then bottle green and pink like a nursery rhyme
no one took notice the sea was warning of a disaster.
It began in the late afternoon when the sun felt tired but hesitated to sink beyond the horizon
So much more to see, and the night lasted until six in the morning.
The cars by the seaside started all at once and
headed towards the bay and into the sea
the bottom of the bay was smooth, and many cars were able to drive far before they drowned, but the battery light lasted a long at night, the bay lit up like a gigantic stage for an opera
Shall we guess, Rusalka? An Italian opera
A water nymph in love with the human world and discovers her sexuality.
There was no way to stop this mass exodus
more and more cars flung themselves into the water in the bay; yes, even patrol cars revolted
and motorized transport came to a halt
when motorcars had gone, it was the motorbike's turn to headless drive into the sea
An island was born
when seabirds had fertilized the islet traffic
cones appeared together with of one way drive
no parking zones and zebra crossings
The world cried out for Elon Musk to come and sort out the problem
in the meantime, a donkey farm in the north of
Guarda, a hilltop town near the Spanish border, made a roaring business renting out their animals.
THE REPLY FROM THE PRESENT TO THE PAST
(NO TO XENOPHOBIA II)
With the paper on my hand
I wondered what to do as I stood confused
Welcome home,
O my son of my pen days
for what I have seen in my old age
Began in their days.
The great voice of Soyinka revolted
walk with me my son and share my solitude
I followed him as we walked to some golden box
Illuminated with light as it wowed us
Here lies Kofi Anan in state
O you came back late he said
Mugabe left yesterday
He once foresaw today
Sitting on a golden stool
With beautiful white hairs and beards
what message came from the secretaries he asked
As he read through the paper with smiles
He nodded his head in disagree as the council blamed the living
It was yesterday it all began
The living and dead must understand
A voiced grumbled as he walked in with anxiety in his eyes
As he walked with shame into the hall
I am Zuma he mentioned with grumbling mouth on the petition against the living by the dead
As he was about to sit
A wide wind which ushers in the African harmattan blew
As it faded the Kukubird the tale bird of Mother Africa sang melancholic dirge eulogies
As she ushered in the spirits of the Dead
The silence was broken with the glorious entrance of them
Make no more accusations echoed the wavey voice of Obasanjo
There was an instant shake on the ground
It was an earthquake that made mother Africa smile
With it tear came forth J. Rowlings
Politics,Religion,Economic,Ethnicity are the causes of this conflict he rumbled royally
As the council sat down
A voice ordered,stand up Ramaphosa!
You are not worthy of this sit
The voice of Anan shouted
I witnessed it and I was present
As his presence was announced by glorious illumination of the noble presence
Not guilty alone Ramaphosa cried out
Buhari is an associate of this crime he rebelled strongly
With scorn they all bowed as they observed some minutes silence for wounded Africa.
I stood in their presence lost as we await the judgement by the council
Soyinka said to me
Arise and go home to Sowore,Omokri
For the judgement is near.
It's time now for me to start a new,
I have to as all my poems were removed.
Locked out of my account by poetrysoup,
I was excluded in exile from this poetry loop.
Following this exclusion I am now back,
not fazed pulsating the evolutionary track,
evading the limits as I upgrade and adapt,
soaking up the jargon and improving my act.
Many others write rhymes befiting to poetry,
with less common or poetic words in decipher reads,
my rhymes are more fitting to an unsightly reality,
with everyday common words on the contrary.
On the face my style has a lesser appearance,
but I write rhymes for head and chest clearance,
I don't comply to the contemporary coherence,
I'm more a wild card away from adherence.
I had created a monster,
the sort offence sponsors,
a repulsive imposter
receiving revolted responses.
A quest that I conquered with ease and perfected,
but went to far and squandered to see it ejected,
wondering beyond the boundaries until disconnected,
I didn't ponder it, I was fond of it that's why it was selected.
When I get knocked down I return with haste,
grab a fresh slate and draft a brand new taste,
when you lose all, start new and don't hesitate,
in the face of adversity carry on and create.
My life's a quest to evolve and progress,
each test to solve, break down and digest,
unstoppable on this path until I witness,
a poem I write with rhyme finesse.
Rastafari certainly was a young man of magnificent talent indeed...
He praised God, as Abraham did, in his chant and dance with true glee,
Bob Marlyn and Peter Posh helped him become a raggae star;
some folks thought he was crazy with those long, braided hair.
Since ninenteen-seventy when hippies abounded,
and revolted against the American Government with protest...
Rastafari wrote great songs of many themes for the oppressed
and poor who were denied civil liberties in their own land.
Listen to those songs, feel the vibrant beat in the his unique music
and walking in his shoes you can sing with him and become his friend,
because Rasatfari dreamed of seeing all peoples embrace around the troubled world...
has he died in vain or left an indelible legacy for those adoring his everlasting beat?
The Chance Given
T ~ here then and forever after since they touched the miracle of love and
H ~ ope when her heart and soul crossed his path out of nowhere as passionate
E ~ ssence in miraculous wonderment sealed a union beyond the wildest dreams
C ~ hange they did and for the better when her moon scooped his spoon
H ~ is poetry and hers thus theirs conjoined mooned scoops in steady flow
A ~ nticipation certainty absolved it’s wicked suicidal darkness revolted into
N ~ ights enlightened days and moments paused in bliss from stagnant gloom
C ~ aressed and feathered by the Universe’s shine and guidance seemingly
E ~ ternal infinite impermanent however yet so real ever so trusting truthfully
G ~ iven taken regardless whether co-incidence God-incidence pure chance
I ~ gnited compassion’s kindness loving change and meaning they solemnly
V ~ owed to exchange the void so previously endowed with loneliness and to
E ~ scape their shadows elope together sneak away and towards together
N ~ ever in a million moments to be scared and scarred again and happy
25th October 2016
My father was my Idol, Philosopher and Guide.
But he was a dominant person always to Control -
I had regular fight with him on inevitable Clash !
Imprisoned in childhood owing to daily Clash
Tired on conflict ! Developed personality yer he was Guide.
No way, I revolted to escape from his over -all Control !
I had to choose my own way getting rid of his Control
I had to struggle but I was just fed up on continued Clash.
Yet alll along I paid due respect to Dad as my Guide.
Dad was my Guide but I went out of his Control avoiding Clash !
The Animal from Flowers as Perfect Mistake
shivers of hot ice passed through my flesh of stone,
animal from carnivorous flowers with petals of crude vegetable blood,
you looked like a bad correct mistake made from pure intention,
from the mouth of the gentle lion to the tail of the ferocious large mouse.
you had not a bit nothing of a bone full of gnawed fiercely hard handsome,
in abundant lack you were a horse with a bouquet of soft sharp thorns,
gentle wild grazing violently on a pistachio concrete prairie,
designated confusedly in a clear stain of whisper that screams silently.
breeze solid vapor floating heavily through the dense transparent full air,
honor from sober drink of lucid hangover and badly drunk,
you goddess venom medicine that heals poisoning lightly deeply,
that bows revolted at the altar of its constructive destruction!
animal from old childhood chlorophyllery of red green blood,
you kissed me the last time first time for the eternity of the short moment,
tearing my whole rags the meadows of the grave that breathes,
to the wind inverse face the hair corollas from facts without living action.
your breasts to gather weaned emptied full of the milk of void,
your bad perfect mistake corrects me in my right error,
your animal flower tames the beast with its wild gentleness,
the last time first time you kissed me endlessly in a short moment!
It was Patrick Henry who said, "Give me liberty or give me death". Neutrality of a nation has little or no meaning for a world in decline
Death is the ultimate sacrifice and is often the price to be paid for freedom Elections by a free people must never be corrupted, denied, nor abolished
Powers are derived from people and must never be taken away from the people Evils, personal or political, perpetrated against people must never be tolerated "Never Again Convictions" can inspire us and give birth to a new birth of freedom
Defense of our sacred documents, conceived in blood, must be upheld at all cost Every victory over repression and tyranny demand a total commitment New England revolted because she was bathed in oppression and tyranny 'Concessions' can be tools of deception and another name for 'appeasements' Enemies of 'the free spirit of liberty and justice', must be confronted and defeated
06252019cjPoSoup
I've known my love for what now seems to be a long time
And yet I'd forced myself not to acknowledge it
Not to let my heart intrude upon the determination of my mind
I'm dying for your love
I wish to dig your heart out and drink your blood
Now, words seem to beat against me as if someone else was saying them
Repeating them over and over again until they drummed in my ears ,growing louder and louder
Until my whole body vibrated to the rhythm of it
Oh darling I'm dying for your love
Though I'd never told you
You must have been aware
That my heart turned over whenever our eyes met
I yearned for you the very moment i saw you
I remember how beautiful you'd appeared as you walked towards me
We kissed as you made your way down to the garden of eden
Atleast I'll have that to remember
I admit now that since then I'd not gone to sleep
Trying to recapture the feels of your lips on mine
The strength of your arms when you held me against you
That kiss has spoilt me
Because never again would it be possible for another being to touch me
Even on the hand without feeling revolted by it
Now one , two ,three,twelve hours before midnight
When he kissed my hand
I felt a cold shiver run through my veins
As almost as if his lips had been those of a reptile
But then insidiously, frighteningly so
The fact was born in upon me that he was man enough to want more from me than a kiss
There had been a look in his eyes as he spoke which was impossible to misinterpret
Had he approached me closely I'd want to run panic stricken to safety
And what did safety mean ever since i entered the love era except you ?
I love you ..i love you
And as always i go back to the same drumming and throbing sound within my heart
The same yearning which prevaded my whole body
Like an aching wound until i knew
It was impossible to face life without you