Long Southerners Poems
Long Southerners Poems. Below are the most popular long Southerners by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Southerners poems by poem length and keyword.
I understand on this virgin ground with old tattered shoes
The elder southerners say, I don't belong here.\nThey're bloody feet on my neck
Yet I stand firm , I stand tall and proud
Demo raggedy shoes did I wear I wore
We're handed down by my grandpapa
Every fiber every thread every bloodshed
For you see , every step that he stood everywhere , he walked everywhere , he stood
Like a cotton wood tree , he covered his family
Like a dandy lion spread , his roots were strong
You see the tattered shoes , though they're hand me down
Is the status of shoes are generational
He started shoes speak of conversations
They have walked the land.\nS has been stripped , that's been hand in hand
Every model , every speck of dirt and sand
These tattered shoes have walked this unholy land.
I will not lose. I will no longer be abused and misused. I Don'n T need no Air Jordans.
I am not a burden nThese shoes of what I wear represents my generational share
In nanuce reality here's the clarity
I am a child of God and despite your abuse
Your thoughts, your views.Your opinions of me
I stand, I walk the this land
I stand on this soil this indigenous grounds
In my bronzed brown copper feet
Walking these their street
My forefathers too has worned these. those
-----Tattered Shoes
3/28/26
written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
Bring down the curtain on this stage
to avoid shouts of dissent and rage:
favoritism is a terrible thought so appalling;
the worthiness of honor is to be deserving!
How perfidious and how cruel a city can be,
never amending itself and redeem its conscience,
never admitting it was the cause of all pain,
of all grief: soldiers burning towns down and raping women;
did their royalty to a vicious king bring them peace?
Many ships anchored in the harbor of a turbulent sea...
to invade a free land made up of people of goodwill,
who could stop soldiers that were ordered to pillage and kill?
Bring down the curtain on this stage
to avoid the shouts of dissent and rage;
favoritism is a terrible thought so appalling:
the worthiness of honor is to be deserving!
Turin lays beneath the Alps where Southerners rebels
were held in a huge prison of misery, cold and endless agony;
they knew they would die never seeing their adored land again!
Turin has a museum of horrors where skulls and faces
of the dead are displayed and the hurried passerby stares
and doesn't realize that human beings aren't objects of derision!
Turin, brutal Turin, can you wash
the guilt away and retain the bloody hands
of the crimes you committed stealing a treasure belonging
to people who earned it with the sweat
of their foreheads until the blaring sun went down?
Turin, cruel Turin shut down the museum of the horrors,
look deep down and earnestly ask
for forgiveness without stirring any doubt;
it's the only way to redeem yourself and not frown,
and finally, make peace with the South!
Bring down the curtain on this stage
to avoid the shouts of dissent and rage;
favoritism is a horrible thought so appalling:
the worthiness of honor is to be deserving!
There comes the EAST, against the SOUTH
The WEST against the SOUTH
Again the NORTH, all against the SOUTH
Just to use, manipulate and enslave
our minds, One said music is all
I say
The growth of a country
Depends on the knowledge Of the youths
But money makes everything worthwhile
Them songs; Bursting Up the speakers
The knowledge birthed, connections for elevation
My money bossing up, Mi world
They call me
A LAZY GOLD DIGGER NO i am
A POET, I was a once a hustler
Here comes another, they said...
Laughter is everything, It keeps you entertained
I said; Laughter without, happiness and contentment
From within is Forgery, For social connection
Money makes it enduring and complete
Them jokes and movies, all over the NATION
With Global recognition
My people Living La vida loca (the crazy life)
La Bella vida (The beautiful life)
Amidst all hate and denials, they labelled us SCAMMERS
No we are messengers of Love, Oneness was our message.
da vida (life-giving) vida Feliz (happy life)
There came
The other, boosting of their. strengths and powers
I told them
It's not by power, neither myth but
Consistency without resistance
Money makes whole, It adds honor
We all will die one day, but not certain
Now they got
The military With armed forces, ARMY
Forcing, forging lies and flogging us to
Move their ways, my people
Still showing love, amidst the tortures
They call us vultures with cultures
No we are healers and seers
Which they keep seeking, Unknowingly
Silence and discernment was Our weapons
Their perception of us, Was a reflection of them.
All them wishes On us was to be their
Sheep for slaughter
Copycat to navigate the negative poles
Propelling the heroes, Within
The Sleeping LIONS, they awakened
Now My people roar for;
Absolute freedom, greatness comes from it
We SOUTHERNERS also deserve power
We want to own our resources
And Our Fundamental Human Rights
JUSTICE and FREEDOM IS THE SOUND
AS WE ROAR FOR GREATNESS!!
Utterly cold waters for two southerners from Oslo.
They take our breath away when swimming.
The land of the midnight sun and the gorgeous
Aurora lights are featured at Uttakleiv Beach.
Kept our eyes open too for unusual sights at
Lofoten Islands in northern Norway.
Eye of the Dragon was one showpiece - a most
Intriguing natural rock formation -
Visibly impressive, virtually unmatched.
Both my wife Nora and I, have our bucket lists.
Each of us have longed to visit our northernmost
Arctic Circle area and its famous fjords.
Colossal - the Trollfjordan near Lofoten which
Hails as the best holiday site ever in Norway.
April 12, 2023
#13: Close One, & Cigars
To the accords of The Book of Life ... cheers,
loose ends of the created stoic string
crisscross a heedless sea of empty tears.
In the facade of guilt, all seems trifling.
Metallica Horizons all are round,
languages changing from their Mother Tongues,
World Clock, reassemble to Zero down.
New tastes, new sounds ... The Song of Flower Drums
from Southerners, not quite, the cowboy type.
Bowls bleed of beets, ... have fun chow from Macao.
Americans, ... where? ... flagless world, all hype ...
Russians, Chinese, there ... steak, Mindanao.
Ex-lives work as one, building their Starships,
human chain meant Starman ... breathing room trips.
If I had lived yesterday
in that chaotic world echoing
of Gatling guns shots and canon blasts,
I would have made a difference:
hate and prejudice would have not prevailed,
and power wouldn't have been abused;
from History's records, we know that even
when Jesus lived it wasn't that peaceful!
During the American Civil war,
Northerners fought Southerners...
did they hear Scarlet's desperation,
or the moaning of her loss as war went on?
And for sometime, it had become
a modus vivendi she couldn't change.
Let's return to the stark reality of the present:
have we noted some drastic changes
in Government and social behavior?
Yes, it has given us more liberty,
but another war has shattered many hopes
of ever seeing peace as blood continues to be shed...
while nations arm themselves to their teeth!
How can we welcome those winds of change and feel safe,
if we tell our children that danger still exists?
And has society been kinder and more caring?
Obscenity, teen sex, violence, greed, vulgarity
and exploited sexuality are being condoned by many;
we wouldn't be that cool if we didn't use obscene words,
and worst of all, we are called hermits or asexual
if we abstain from sex to prevent those sexual diseases!
Is this rebellion, or a trend of the new generation?
Having unprotected sex, making babies,
laying the burden on their Government that's fighting
a terrorist war? Do we seen any future
for these lost kids who imitate the habits of their parents?
Blame them? Ah! Lots of things would be changed,
if they turned to God and ask for His guidance!
And to end my visceral narrative, I shamefully confess,
" I hate to live in this loathsome age of greed!"
New Yorkers, in general, are very notorious
for walking way too fast, not moderately:
it's seen as an unpleasant remark;
tourists keep thinking to themselves,
" They're funny! " It's a stereotype they mock,
" Do New Yorkers ever rush to Central Park? "
An outsider asked a stern policeman,
" Why is everybody running? "
" Is the President coming? "
And the cop stared at him saying,
" You are an outsider, not so lean,
catch up to the marathon race:
they are rushing for the train:
they are going to their working place! "
And the shocked red-neck with a freckled,
peachy, round face grinningly replied,
" I never knew they raced like wild horses
to catch a train; we Southerners take our time,
and stress less, we play songs in our guitars
and drink lots of whiskey, we never walk a mile! "
How could the unamused officer take offence and contain his disdain...
when the naive dude offended every New Yorker?
His reply was a shock to the poor guy on naproxen,
" Run like them before I throw you in jail, or take the Southern Border! "
Note: No pun is intended, it's only to spike up some humor!
City born Northerners,
Kiss the last rays of sunlight,
With pampered lips
While those of us born and raised
In the south, Appalachian –
We dust off the melting sun
With a laugh that sheds the heat
From our pores and restores our
Hope for the star strewn silhouette,
Breaking through the endlessness
Calm and strong, worrying,
With the distance between
Morning and evening
The laughter between two,
Gasping reasons…
Northerners know only urban things,
A metropolis of themes,
Towns and scenes, where silence agrees,
It never finds its peace,
Never finds it secret, showing life…
Beyond the city life, where lights play,
Laughing beyond the memories…
There is a peace, a serenity,
Only found in the center of a dream,
Fancied by hearts and souls who see…
Reflections of the moon, the stars, the trees,
Soothing away the hindrance of needs,
Blessing the life with light that succeeds –
In awakening morning, dewlike and gentling
As the wings of music on notes of prayers
Prayed by Southerners, those born and bred,
In Appalachia, where life is slow and steady,
Where light reflects the heavens
Grace is the most precious treasure…
Listen to the woods, the oaks and the pines,
The beauty in a soul who hears…
Trembling whispers in the dancing leaves,
Tender reasons, sighing in the forest’s breath.
chances of me leaving home
chances of me donning blues
chances of me wearing a flight suit
chances of me being chosen
to carry the sports flag
chances of me staying
what chance do I have to find love
chances of living a life apart
from what I had known
chances of being whistled at by ships
chances of the greatest adventure of my life
chances of boogie boarding the Pacific
chances of kittens
yes, kittens…mom wasn’t a fan
chances of tempura and teriyaki
chances of children in muumuus and leis
chances of sunshine and rainy season days
chances motor pedaling a bit far away
what we won’t do when we are pinch-cheek young
chances of wading, submerging, merging
with (parrot- butterfly- trigger- trumpet- ) fish; and tangs
chances of Hanauma reef and frozen peas
chances of being half a world away
chances of my son finding love in Guam
chances of my daughters marrying Southerners
chances of happiness
chances of me leaving home
Jubilance is too mild of a word to describe what the slaves must have felt.
Unbelievable would not be truthful because they anticipated freedom.
Northerners achieved surrender from Southerners, but the nation lost.
Evil took a break as slaves celebrated, only to return in a different form.
Though thousands lost their lives, there was indeed a new birth of freedom
Everything changed except many hearts, but Blacks were no longer property.
Eating at the core of every soul were wounds that only God could heal.
Natives from Africa, a new race created by blood, hate, sweat, and tears.
Time heals all wounds, they say, which indicates a never-ending task.
History is replete with man's cruelty to each other, and the drumbeats of hatred continue.
06182018PoetrySoupContest, Juneteenth, Edward Ibeh, 2P