Long Revue Poems
Long Revue Poems. Below are the most popular long Revue by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Revue poems by poem length and keyword.
It was in eighteen eighty-six in the streets of Chicago,
where the greatest miscarriage of justice people would know
transpired in an infamous labor-police rendezvous.
Albert Parsons led eighty thousand people on revue.
The strikers marched down Chicago’s Michigan Avenue.
The Knights of Labor were sponsors for the work stoppage venue.
Demands for shorter work hours and no child labor were made.
This would be regarded as the world’s first May Day parade.
Thousands nationwide would join in with the activities
In the next few days, the striking workers stopped whole industries.
On the third, some strikers and police engaged in melees.
These actions resulted in two ill-fated fatalities.
The struggles also caused some severe hideous injuries.
The fights took place at the McCormick Harvester Company.
Many held the police for murderous culpability.
Organizers from the Knights of Labor held a mass rally
at the Haymarket in Chicago’s West Loop vicinity.
They would assemble there in the early part of May.
Thousands crowded there peacefully on the month’s fourth day.
Leaflets were passed noting the police for murder to the crowd
as anarchists urged the mobs to join forces and shout aloud.
A bomb thrown at the police catalyzed an altercation.
One officer was killed and others hurt in the explosion.
Matthias Degan was the officer fallen in duty.
Seven other policemen died later from an injury.
The police opened fire on the people immediately.
At least eleven of the strikers were shot at fatally.
Eight men stood trial for the death of police officer Degan.
They were Parsons, August Spies, George Engel, Samuel Fielden,
Adolf Fischer, Louis Lingg, Michael Schwab, and Oscar Neebe.
All eight were tried and found guilty by a judge and jury.
Neebe got fifteen years; the others got the death penalty.
Schwab and Fielden were commuted to life; then got clemency.
Lingg took his own life before his scheduled execution.
The remaining four men were hanged in public exhibition.
Since then, there have been enacted many labor reform laws
The men who died are considered martyrs to a noble cause.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for the information I obtained to write this
poem.
Conquistador, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s tercets : Conquistador
Message to fellow soupers: I have been trying to upload, in vain, yet another translation of a
Paul Verlaine poem titled: "Ballade in favour of those called Decadents and Symbolists" since 28/09/2013, so if anyone is interested in reading it, just Google it or go to my pages in other poetry sites like PoemHunter, PoemsAbout, ZCommunications, etc. Thank you. T. Wignesan
(Published in « La Revue blanche », April 1894 , under the title : « Mal de mer » ; and « Pall Mall Magazine » November 1894. Source : Jean-Yves Favre’s Paul Verlaine : Œuvres Poétiques Complètes. Paris : Robert Laffont, 1992) T. Wignesan
My heart looms heavy as the ocean waters rear
From having left behind a cherished being dear
Who grows sad by the day, embittered by fear
Over the oceans, alas I must depart
With the heart stout and the soul stalwart
Even if from the Queen exile I must out
Exiling myself only to return to pasture
Though much more joyous beckons the future
Than thoughts of remembrances’ adventure…
My heart has grown alike by many a wave
Pushed up in an enormous mass concave
Immense breast upon which the world doesn’t rave…
O ! so far a away to be safe from fear
Yet left without care the being so dear
Excepting just that which holds down one tear.
I board ship while the tempest rages
With this hope which keeps gnawing for ages :
To find treasure which my quest assuages.
To bring back to her in merriment :
Gold, silver, pearl and diamond
With my heart as a supplement.
The waters rage, the ocean pregnant bulges
Terrible state : falling and rising spasms
Stooping low to make huge chasms.
Struggling as though forming a tomb
While with courage and with aplomb
The sailor wrestles even as waters loom
Meanwhile without respite the hurricane
Cradled like an infant lost in dreamy bane
The ocean holds to course or inhumes sane
Dreaming of gold by masses and more
Filling up infinite rows of corridor,
For my Sovereign, my life I lay down ever more…
November 1893, London
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Since the elderly king greatly loved music, his court esteemed it, too;
As sun and moon smile on myriad colors, during the butterfly revue.
The king was well loved and jolly, with the queen, always by his side.
He ruled with caring. Like rainbow hued peaks, where indifference died.
His glorious reign had been lengthy, and the vast kingdom prospered;
Like the kingdom of regal, red lilies, blooming regularly as clockwork.
Fabled, flighty, fall days brought friends, on the spur of rare moment,
Often from faraway kingdoms, like night, after colorful postponement.
Fragrant night fell so familiarly, in the ashen shadows of flaming day;
As family arrived feelingly from France, like the heartfelt communique.
The king lived in the house of harmony, like ruby stars dancing in sync;
And green birds sang in its courtyard, under pink, lace clouds, indistinct.
Reliable raspberry sun rose rapturously, along King's Road of old roses;
Replete with robust raven cawing, like when confiding cricket discloses.
The king's musicians gave daily recitals, like the nectarine sun, shining.
Noble courtiers attended every noon, by windows of minty ivy, twining.
The 'orchid valentine beauty' fell in love, in frilly, red petals, cashmere;
As 'crown of thorns peppermint candy,' bloomed throughout green years.
'Miss Jekyll' blooms, sought places to Hyde, since all were colored blue;
While red 'spider lily blooms' spun silk, to be adorned in something new.
One day Old King Cole called for his pipe and bowl, and his fiddlers, too;
And they played as they never had before, like pink finch's sunrise debut!
All windows were open, green leaves quivering. Songs paused in the tree.
'Twas if nature were in hushed rapture, in bygone days, far from the city!
'Old King Cole was a merry old soul.
And a merry old soul was he,
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he,
Oh there's none so rare, as can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three.'
Sgt. Bedlam of heavy artillery reporting sir
Bedlam I want you to pick the runt of the litter
and turn him into an agent assassin
with the clandestine power of hypnotism
yes Generalissimo I am here to obey
decked out like a burlesque revue warlord
his Mauser cigar lighter on his belt
a curlicue mustache and a pie tin helmet
Opal his opium fiend gun moll squirming in his lap
was our Generalissimo
Bedlam weighed the coming abrasions
concluded we are our scars and furthermore
if adaptation is survival so is parasitism
cleared his throat noisily and bowed an exit
later that fate laden candle lit night
he made a deep study of his globes and charts
Europa Asia Oceana the Steppes the Savannah
the Scorched Hills of Malibu
a map addict re-educated in the cleanup of '89
his bell-shaped curve insisted love me
server and served a beautiful thing
if one enjoyed giant jungle arachnids and leeches
and centipedes that crawl up your butt
to lay millions of eggs when you sleep
where the laws of physics become
a tumbling burbling retinal stew
geysering steam and sulfur and mud and
where was I oh yah
yet a thing of beauty was Opal to Bedlam
he heard scratching and purring at the door
it was she incognito in an iguana skin
we must escape this hideous circus of shame
she coo coo rooed as her tongue dove into
the holy fissure in his brain
and he threw caution to the feral hogs
forgetting good posture he oozed upon Opal
I bet you think you make your own decisions
she cloyed and again he tossed caution
into a cauldron of grunting mammalian rut
for several hours perhaps the entire weekend
it's easy to rewire a human
you just give them a little epiphany
and bingo ownership
his hypnotic gambit paid off in ducats
the Generalissimo slept like a corpse
the pet centipedes concluded their labors
his ex-kingdom rejoiced at their new liberty
and that's anarchy for ya
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
My garden calls to earths creatures one and all
No matter how big, no matter how very small
Amid ferns green lace to show her humble face
With rows of flowers and dainty plots of grace
My gardens’ beauty grows so fair with ample daily care
From the water nymphs I see they have a secret flair
Flirting fairies carry flowers that are grey and spent
Then open all the blooms of delicate petals heaven sent
They sprinkle silver sparkles in the early morning dew
A gift for the flowers lined up in a colorful revue
Newborn dainty bluebells nodding in the gentle breeze
Then come the hummingbirds to drink with rapid ease
I see the tulip cups of early spring so sweet in cherry reds
Perfect buds of roses glowing just like married newlyweds
Summer iris dance together where the delphiniums grow
All along the fence just as pretty as gifts tied in a bow
My favorite place to sit in all this happiness and garden bliss
Is among the frilly petals of the yellow Rose of Sharon hibiscus
Little sprites eyes peak out from the different dancing daisies
Beside the arbor you can stop to find the double pink peonies
Hurrah for the coming of Spring showers to start our display
That then tumbles through the days of summers archway
My garden calls me back to welcome Autumns magic delights
To gather the last of the seasons’ bouquets and fiery sights
I say goodnight and see you soon to my gardens’ magic guests
In their loving care I send them off to rejuvenate and rest
Then tuck to sleep petals and bulbs, all in their separate beds
Before winters’ blanket of snowy white covers our sleepy heads
written 6-10-2020
Your Best Poem Poetry Contest
7th place premium
"Mans Search For Meaning" ~ Viktor E. Frankl
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You have a way with words," she said
As I walked her to her car, after class....
Sitting at the Revue, underneath a brightened purple
awning
Sharing a piece of lemon cake of some sort, I believe
With two cups of cappuccino, amid the nightfall upon the city
Facing the cars and the crowds as they all passed by
Little San Francisco, I would always call it
Diverse in culture and, diverse within many ways
All leading although, unto a very peaceful and vibrant place
A wonderful retreat....
Compared to many of the other things throughout the day!?
Away from the vultures and the jackals, the vipers
And all of 'their' kind; they, the truly inane
Vampires that drain the light....But not all, not all....
Sitting there with her lovely smile and, the greenest of emerald eyes
An enchanting laugh that, sometimes still echoes within my mind
Sharing our thoughts, some cappuccino, a piece of cake and our dreams
Looking back now, upon her shining auburn hair; glistening
Portraits before my eyes, of a unique and precious life ~
"A splash of lime, in mine, please"....
The most innocent and purest of hearts, she held
This beautiful young lady, with a soul so profoundly kind
But, so very very lost, within a very lost world!?
Not all though, not all....
"You have a way with words," she said, while sitting at the Revue
Sitting at, sitting at, sitting at...."Aida," was her name ~
"So do you dear, so do you!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Humanity, 25?"
Form:
"Mans Search For Meaning"~Viktor E. Frankl
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You have a way with words," she said
As I walked her to her car, after class....
Sitting at the Revue, underneath a brightened purple
awning
Sharing a piece of lemon cake of some sort, I believe
With two cups of cappuccino, amid the nightfall upon the city
Facing the cars and the crowds as they all passed by
Little San Francisco, I would always call it
Diverse in culture, and diverse within many ways
All leading although, unto a very peaceful and vibrant place
A wonderful retreat....
Compared to many of the other things throughout the day!?
Away from the vultures and the jackals, the vipers
And all of 'their' kind; they, the truly blind
Vampires that drain the light....But not all, not all....
Sitting there, with her lovely smile, and the greenest of emerald eyes
A laugh, that sometimes still echoes within my mind
Sharing our thoughts, some cappuccino, a piece of cake and our dreams
Looking back now, upon her shining auburn hair; glistening
Portraits before my eyes, of a unique and precious life ~
"A splash of lime, in mine, please"....
The most innocent and purest of hearts, she held
This young lady, with a soul so profoundly kind
But, so very very lost, within a very lost world!?
Not all though, not all....
"You have a way with words," she said, while sitting at the Revue
Sitting at, sitting at, sitting at...."Aida," was her name ~
"So do you dear, so do you!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Humanity, 25?"
Form:
Deer Ruby,
Daddy doubtful hardly Dorothy know you ...
it’s the bare bones, Toto truth
Variety gossip on the street
by parrot beaks chirping canary peeps
Said your mother had a one-night-stand revue;
a private audience of one, burlesque interview
Receptionist Rita
wardrobe malfunction rumor denied:
Saying it show was a casting couch,
fertility snafu tell
A mistaken DNA identity test tube fail,
surrogate voices seeking financial bail
Deer Ruby
I’m paternity suit warning you,
don’t go try to sell
this sperm whale of a tale
to the tabloid press
Or you’ll be SUV standing in the crosshair road
of my ambitious career progress
Don’t do a Big Poppa no no
Deer Ruby
Daughter maybe,
you might become a Jane Doe
Roadkill statistical ... accidental tourist tagged toe
On the way blind date
to the doctored Dub Helix party,
DOA fashionably late
Deer Ruby
Coroner foul play fate awaits
To be black ice bait
is a slippery curve, swerve shame
Father Time
told me to double indemnity clause
policy tell you:
Have a nice afterlife!
Daddy questionable
gives his best dirt wishes with closed coffin kisses
So take a momentary morgue pause,
and for insurance fraud sake —
Think twice about it ... Don’t get cash hash-tagged,
urn brownie baked
Deer Ruby
If you’re truly hip to the big con,
the real money underbelly action
Gender labels don’t matter none
for a mirror image son-of-a-gun
Deer Ruby
Just between you $ and $ me, hon ...
my probable, umbilical oven bun
I give a wink-and-nod confession —
I do hope you’re my wiseguy son!
I drink my root beer
with soggy fries
soiled buns
Hamburg runs
while watching the tube
in an unsightly nude
give me a Draft or an A&W glass
sitting in this position, it hurts my advancing Ass
AMERICAN IDOL:THE OLD FOSSIL REVUE
Plenty of Famous Farts dying to perform for you
Sir Mick and Madam Paul
they both did rocked in THE GREATEST SHOW OF THEM ALL
Madonna and Michael Jackson are Down
it is getting harder for their fannies to move around
Prince Geldof Boomtown Rat
surely realizing that his bulge is getting Fat
Sir Rocket and The Piano Man
were getting TOO FRIENDLY with a local Girl Scout fan
John Travolta the SWEATHOG guy
was making out his Will 'cause he knows he's going to die
One aero plane to his favorite charity
A gyro copter to the Dentist,who removed an unwanted cavity
The Old GREASE leather apparel
going to his TV buddy..The MASH's own B.J. Mike Farrell
Barry Williams,Knight, and Lookinland Too
trying on a fling with their Sitcom Sisters..YOU-KNOW-WHO
William Shatner on his couch
His enormous belly has only just begun to tire and slouch
Farrah and Lee Majors STUCK
trying(separately,of course) to get a Hard-On -UCK
Karl Malden..coming back from the Dead
To invite Zeter Jones than Michael Douglas Instead
The Streets of Sitcom Heaven, where youth is always On
Malden is serenading pretty Catherine with a Song
Now it's time to end this prose
I hope that you can touch both your toes
Don't watch the crap
exercise daily to avoid this trap
and YOU WILL BE A LIFE OVERACHIEVER,INDEED!!
Form:
I lift and rise to being chased,
pops half-way, till full, beamed round-faced,
a fire host heightened its facade,
casting daylight shadows abroad.
Cool Earth plunged hot by its keeper,
heat courses like the Grim Reaper,
smiles at darkness to wait its turn,
up curve tidied, noon loses yearn.
Orange turns red, claws at purple,
white flagged as dusk makes a hurtle,
a gloaming rhythms the musing sphere,
like one tied to tracks, locked in fear.
Named twilight as some light appears,
though hour triggers those tryst affairs,
calm ruse warmth as limbs fuss about,
caught midnight streams like baited trout.
A night dips mid-Cherub's flirting,
their chariot horses fleeing,
while the golden sentinel rides,
as the solitaire lift comprised.
A new task surround, maneuvers,
seers illume become producers,
hail a whole new year of seasons,
first, until last, filled with reasons.
The lead round about the bodies,
as they spin on stage like follies,
glows revue as savory hams,
marooned its taste just like PB Jams.
Bittersweet, as they realigned,
lead pars best swept the rest, resigned,
equinox and solstice charted,
psyche chose, and rookies parted.
A decisive planet divides,
segregation always collides,
closets partitioned a household,
Edens knowledge, they were paroled.
As a classroom globe builds up dust,
while folks roam about, make a fuss,
intellect cleans a tarnished steel,
greens will entomb them 'ere they kneel.