Long Swamp Poems
Long Swamp Poems. Below are the most popular long Swamp by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swamp poems by poem length and keyword.
Trump is Almost Gone
By Franklin Price
01/07/2020
Trump is almost gone
Just thirteen days away
The Swamp controls the government
Will make We the People pay
Four long years they've fought him
Even when he had done right
I pray to God to help us
Not let us go into the night
Yesterday he was most foolish
Encouraged quite a motley crew
To go up to the capital
What a foolish thing to do
The assumption all were Trumpers
May not or may be true
Some likely trouble makers
With nothing else to do
Could have been some city burners
Who led to break the windows out
If you look at the majority
Most of the crowd, just milled about
No matter, Trump was most at fault
Was there and led the way
Told the mob to go up to the hill
Though there was nothing left to say
Media, compares it to Pearl Harbor
Caused, by Trump, the foolish clown
Was not as if they helped to cause it
For four long years they've put him down
He tried every way to help them
To tweet and call his haters names
Not often presidential
Not how lifers play the games
When everything is said and done
Whether legally or not
Joe Biden our new president
Voted in to stir the pot
"Diversity is to Unity
as Strength is to Power"
said Speaker Pelosi
To democratic LeftBrain economic Identity
investing a self-assured shout-out
to RightBrain's ecosystemic political Integrity,
silent
when most interactively stunning.
Meanwhile
cacophonous money
overflows an overpowering partisan swamp
while climate health feminists
popcorn-style erupt
into MeToo personally victimized
testicular testimonials
About our neighborhood middle school's
public health viral defense budget
supporting an integral bicameral curriculum
advocating for our most robust deep listening
wealthy democracy outcomes
Rewarding
co-investments in green ecopolitics,
cooperatively-owned
and studiously self-managed ecosystems
embracing resilient,
regenerative wealth
of multicultural solidarity networks
by further expanding nonviolent communion
compassion
Of health and safe wealth
green eco-political systems
passionately supporting
co-empathic win/win
deep learning nonviolence skills
Gratefully anticipating
that LeftBrain dominant Identity
will now give more than a
"Bad partisan weather we're divisively having"
a polite impersonal wave
to RightBrain's sacred ecofeminist Integrity
Responsively hoping
for our strong economic health
actively greeting
Earth's powerfully uniting political wealth
ReConnecting with healthy indigenous Voices
wisely remembering
When Social Identity embraces multicultural Integrity
as co-invested Diversity speaks up for democratic Unity
Then, too, economic Strength
co-arises political Power Choices,
Conjoining resiliently robust EarthWealth
with resonantly regenerative AnthroHealth.
in a country of 335 million people
one of the richest more educated places
on the entire planet
the largest economy,
the best military
still for now a democratic country
is this the best we can do
choose between three old white men
as our next leader
and the leader of the world ?
a clearly delusional NYC ex reality TV star president
still talking about draining the swamp
and fighting the evil deep state
destroying the government in the process
as he and his cronies loot the country
a gadfly Senator ex Brooklyn Jew from small town Vermont
formenting radial revolution
yet failing to excite anyone but the young
and those falling behind
and a professional politician who has been around for decades
calling to restore the old failed status quo
saying that he can restore competence to the government
hoping that the third time is the famous charm
dear God if you exist
is this the best we can do?
nothing but silence
as God does not answer my plea
As Far as our Eyes will see,
In a Vast, and seemingly
endless World
to the Future’s greatest of Extents,
in a little Hut,
Hidden in a Swamp,
Lies little Old
Ms.
Garratha.
with the few who Reside
alongside.
They Eventually found
a Beautiful spring,
during their driest of seasons,
although seasoning doesn’t matter --
when It’s Wet twenty-four --
Seven.
The Decision to have a whiff,
without a -- Sniffer, may Just have been
the primary decision
For
Why this whole
story
Started.
Beginning with Licks,
progressing to Great
Tastes,
Has Brought together,
the
new Holy,
Wooly Serpent.
As No one has
seen
A serpent of coat,
since;
How often can you
find --
one of this Kind?
They Just so Happened
to
Land this amazement,
as For the water,
was not salty
At All.
Nor Was it clean, of
every Potential,
creating the Monster, Seen.
An ancient Serpent’s hair,
clogged much of its
safety,
and this water,
had much of
serpent’s Father.
His scales and much
Rein.
Slithering Out of this sort-of Creation,
came
Serpent Himself,
Shining without,
armour.
The body-personal will be achieving little today.
Today is a too tight T-shirt.
Bloat and insomnia
have measured and found soft round toads
croaking in the swamp of being.
There are squawky
oral articulations in dry joints.
A fate has made its presence known
revealing pre-set mousetraps
strewn upon the path of well laid plans;
it warns obliquely of dentures mechanically
nibbling on stale cheese.
Knowing the hours will belch
and empty-out air that could have
breathed new life into words,
Perceiving that chattering mind-children
will cross the distracted mind
without a crossing guard,
be bowled over, squashed, spread
over neural highways,
their scant electric membranes
dissolving and denuded
leaving a sticky residue
over the body personal...
then that body
must retire and regroup
into a proto-cognizance,
a glow of phosphorescence
too primal to be snared,
yet able to predict
when it can get out of itself -
hopefully.
By my parting of these words,
these certain very words.
Herein because, I move it thus aside,
of that and when from you, it is I am.
Certain muscles wrapped around inside,
my fingers do.
The bush my hand upon is fire then ice.
Each leaf is free to move and feel,
it feels the face is red it's buldged blue veins.
And breath sucked in the fingers roam
beneath the moon, it floats.
Does she proper beg to whom he is?
Inside so deep those bending, elbows are.
Moans, she cries and.
Doing all of that and can't be stilled.
The beating heart when touched, feels as.
The splitting of the hips when quite, she is naught.
The chilly water vapors warm the swamp.
Blowing winds this foam up to my knees,
his legs are never straight.
The swirling of the tidal pools, her eddies are.
Index finger, thumbed along each hidden muscled length.
It pulls it in and doing nothing, is pushed out.
The nerves are pointed buds around the open door,
wheels and rings start ringing more, because.
And speaking words that never were by him, not said.
The light within your open mind it always thinking, read.
It heard them not from me and moving you they did.
Again, against between the river flowing never said.
I said to you, I am, I only can it rears the moon.
And the things that woman think they seek, some fear.
The fire my hand it burns the bush, the folded lips,
both rings I often come too know.
Lifting up my hands you dreaming part the clouds,
two elbows moving waves they always are.
The still water of the northern swamp
shone like anthracite coal
lending a rainbow hue to the
mirrored reflections of maiden hair fern
and skunk cabbage.
Strangely grotesque maples
rooted wearily beneath in the hidden depths
of blue-blackness.
The summer sky above hang topsey turvey
Its sunlight sparkling
like fireflies upon the still water.
The leaden air caskets the first layer
of rampant growth,
misting moss, masking mushrooms,
where slick green frogs hide
beneath pink pond lilies.
The heat bakes the red clay bank
cracks gape like the toothless open mouth of a baby.
Layers of hot air create mirages of fright
as the swamp seethes in delight.
In the swamp the raccoons romp
And gators ply the waters.
Wild boars snuff and strut their stuff
And eat their sons and daughters.
Take a ride but stay inside
The boat, both feet and fingers
Or else your zeal provides a meal
(And teeth hurt more than stingers!).
On the boat, when gators float,
The captain calls them closer
With marshmallows tossed at little cost
Or meat that’s raw (much grosser!).
The gators know this little show
Provides a snack quite tasty,
So use their tail to some avail,
Their movements smooth but hasty.
The swamp’s a place I’d hate to face
On any daily basis,
Yet to its beasts it’s never ceased
To be a true oasis.
LOOKING BACK
Life ain't always easy,
Can be a bitter pill,
But I found when I was young,
I could have fun still.
We were poor, I guess that's true,
'Cause Mama left my dad,
And took me to the swamp lands,
Where I found life not half bad.
Folks out there didn't have much school,
Got by on common sense.
In fact they looked on city folks,
As just a little dense.
Mom wasn't understanding,
And beat me now and then,
I guess she figured that's the way,
You keep a child from sin.
Grandpa understood me more,
And kept her oft at bay.
The quiet man laid down the law,
And folks heard what he'd say.
Our food was what we grew out back,
And what our men folks hunted.
It wasn't fancy that's for sure,
But no one grew up stunted.
It taught me to be patient,
And wait upon the Lord.
It taught me not to live too far,
Above what I afford.
I learned to love the Lord a lot,
Depend upon His Grace,
I also leaarned an honest man,
Need never hide his face.
I guess I can't complain too much,
'Cause it made me what I am,
And taught me to appreciate,
And respect my fellow man.
Judy Ball
My favorite President is yet to be
He may well not go down in history
For he'll do what really needs to be done
Antagonizing almost everyone under the sun
First he'll fix Social Security; it's running short of cash
Upping retirement age to 68, a move the 'swamp' will call rash
Then he'll crack down on Medicare/Medicaid fraud and crime
Infuriating the clout-heavy cheaters in America's medicinal slime
Next he'll free up school choice for the poor, not just the rich
More vouchers and charter schools: teachers unions will yell and beech
He'll clean up the ghettos, bust up the gangs, and load up the jails
Violent felons and their Park Avenue backers will want him impaled
He'll break the stranglehold on free speech and inquiry in universities
Big-tech CEO's will squirm, when he ends their totalitarian strip-tease
He'll repair the military, building the strongest defense ever
Daring China and Russia to come get us -- They won't; they're too clever
He'll veto delusionary pork projects which taxpayers can't afford
Boosting old-fashioned 'capitalism' -- for that he will not be adored
As for climate change, he'll pressure China, India and the other slackers
To reign in their CO2 abuse, while the world calls him a bully and hacker
Truth is, my favorite President-to-be will probably never get elected
And if somehow he does, I hope from angry mobs he'll be protected
~ Inspired by, but not an entry in L. Milton Hankins'
'Your Favorite President Contest' ~