Long Sydney Poems

Long Sydney Poems. Below are the most popular long Sydney by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sydney poems by poem length and keyword.


War and Peace

on full volume, play at quality x720p





"War and Peace"



strange birds 
flying freedom wings

it was a clear blue sky day
punctuated by white 

surrendering 
the clear point of morning

a pterodactyl drowning the drill
of cockatoos, galahs and magpies

bleeding bugles 
into afternoons and long goodnights

in the darkest moments
light still sings 

of war and peace

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Australia Day, 26.1.22
vcb





AUSTRALIA DAY 26.1.2022 - Sydney Australia - 
R.A.A.F. Flypast for Aust Day 
https://youtu.be/l6gGxgMMznM




"On Some Far Away Beach" / Brian Eno 
https://youtu.be/K29t_L3CO6A


survivors

survivors

The captain called up the harbor authorities needed a birth a ship no one had heard of, but its manifest stated Sydney-bound 
They let the ship birth on a disused pier far from the city to the disappointment of the crew who had wanted to go ashore.
When the pilot left, he was pale and shaken, felt as if he had been talking to the ghosts through layers of yesterdays 
The official from shore found quantities of cigarettes and whiskey products that had been illegal for the last sixty years in the chief steward store, marijuana was legally good for the health if smoke smoked in moderation. 
The crew was arrested and sent to a camp for interrogation, but it was clear when brainwashed that not even water torture helped, no one knew 
the time of the day
The crew was getting older, first slowly, then rapidly. Zimmer frames everyone 
to look after men who could no longer walk 
and many were incontinent and suffering from advanced Alzheimer
disease and chronic heart failure; worse, the chief steward had stopped singing “My cast Sua Casa.” 
No wonder Europe was a squabbling backwater and 
the USA had broken up into many countries, Spanish 
was the national language
One morning, nurses found skeletons, dark in cor and 
like waterlogged wood thrown ashore by an irate
storm and onto the strand of time.
At the same time, the ship the crew came in sank and broke into pieces of rusty iron. 
There were rumors in Sydney about the aliens Those who knew were forbidden to speak, and experts could continue to talk about how a ship sank so suddenly and disappeared in the sea of the Bay of Bengal
was buried in a led coffin for saying 
the obvious: Do not interfere in our lives.
The good news is for the Islamists, Israel 
has gone forever 
they are now free to cut their own throat
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Geneva Has Evolved

"Fragments and crumbs of life, 
                                  all the little pieces" 

                                 John Ruskin 1853


        Having lived with our Mom in Sydney for six months
        Federal Police returned us to live with our father 
        He had begun working as the art teacher
        at a small Christian school in Tasmania


He and other staff members lived at the school.  
I was 8, my sister 6. Geneva was experimental then. 
Elementary students were taught together in one hall. 
Desks divided from next, talk was completely disallowed. 


An American curriculum called ACE was adhered to. 
As the art teacher's daughter, naturally I washed all the brushes. 
Three utterances compiled in class per day earned detention. 
Despite it being 1991, rulers whapped knuckles on occasion. 


         Cherished butterfly catching buddy, best friend, Penny
         Fed apples from ample pile to fence wire necked horses
         Dawn saluting dairy sold milk for locals, chapel on site 
         Peers lived a wall away, an idyllic community lifestyle 


Generally, three afternoons per week, my father took
My sister on playground, shopping outings. 
I stayed home. Instructed not to go outside. 
Staff's children grassy antics gazed at through glass. 
                                                 


I ate vitamin c tablets by the dozen, and scrapings of butter. 
A staff member bought all our groceries from a limited list.
I sang for company. There was no radio or TV. 
My Dad and sister returned at nightfall. Chewing on sweets. 


     Alone in the house, I imaged it was a cruising ocean vessel 
     I sailed down the dim driveway, swamped by giant pines
     I took apples, a cow, a Bible, pencils for sketching horses
     Sailing on jaunty sun hugged foliage, I was captain



'Geneva Has Evolved' 
Constance La France 
All The Little Pieces Contest 

25th August 2020
Form: Bio

Premium Member A Tale of Two Cities - Life Lesson

How thrilling was a novel long ago
I read for school: A Tale of Two Cities.
It tells of common people whose great woe
comes from the upper class’ atrocities.

A doctor tortured in Bastille has been released.
To London he returns and regains his health
with his daughter Lucy’s help. To the east,
things get ugly for the French with great wealth.

Two men love Lucy: Sydney and Darnay.
She weds Darnay, who’s lied about his family.
They’d locked her dad up. She forgives him anyway!
But now he has big problems. He’s nobility!

It happens that poor Sydney has a face
much like Darnay’s. Though Sydney’s never been
a man of character, he will find grace
by taking Darnay’s place at the guillotine. 

This novel shows the need for reformation
and is a treasure from Great Britain’s past.
It teaches redemption through transformation.
Dickens’ stories through the centuries will last.

Feb. 19, 2017 for Line Gauthier's Life lesson from a favourite novel
Form: Quatrain

Sacrifice

“Sacrifice”



I believed
I believed in Man

Lucid was my Love
for you
I walked the longest line
for you

I articulated 
the message
with my blood 

drop by drop
you drank my story
I drank you all up

Through the windows
of my soul
I watched you 
from my skies

Did you feel my tears
when I reigned 
down o'er you
I guess some did,
others not

I believe
I believe in Man 

Here is my hand
take it

Those with courage
come take my hand

I believe
I believe in Man

Those with courage
come take my hand

I walked the longest line 
for you

Like Romans laughed
and turned their backs -
Do you think 
I’d turn? 

I’ll keep walking 
towards you -

I won’t turn back

I still impart 
my message
to you 

Sublimely 
amidst the 
majority 

not the few

I believe 

I believe in the 
Love and Light 
in Man

Those with courage
come take my hand

(LadyLabyrinth/ 2020)
Easter, 12.4.20,
Sydney Australia




“Look, he is coming with the clouds,”
and “every eye will see him,
even those who pierced him”;
and all peoples on earth “will mourn because of him.” 
Rev 1: 1-7






“It is by faith that poetry,
as well as devotion, 
soars above this dull earth;
that imagination 
breaks through its clouds, 
breathes a purer air, 
and lives in a softer light”. 








“BELIEVE”


Premium Member They Walk Amongst Us

They walk amongst us, but in silent ways,
spreading peace and love without any praise.
When thunder roars and lightning strikes in rain
they watch over us, healing bleeding pain.

Yet we do not see their celestial light,
nor do they shed feathers within our sight.
Happy to hide behind unknown faces,
empathy guides them to deprived places.

Heal and soothe, they prevent tears from flowing,
touch our hearts to leave our spirits glowing.
From Sydney to London, Rome to Bombay,
provide moments that take our breath away

Their acts of grace form a ripple effect,
kind gestures that help people to connect.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

Small Wars In Paradise

"Small Wars in Paradise"



A small war in paradise
where the walls
are dripping 
hearts pinned 
with golden words

A ghost behind 
the eyes of a Fate
shines a light
on the self-righteous 
misinformed deux Moirai, 

advocatus diaboli -

what remains,
The Devil’s Advocates
blinded in the eye
the dull intentioned 
Assizes

Intervention 
comes at a small cost
for the Soul
they think is lost
Tomorrow always delivers,

The Goods.

Small wars in Paradise
where sharp swords cut  
blunt forked tongues 
beating tattoos in time
to a betrayal of trust 

a banshee assassin
it’s a relative choice

Won
Lost

A ghost behind the eyes
haunts the hallowed halls 
of manipulative minds
holding black diamonds and spades
digging what was, is now dust 

in both hands
bloodied, 
murdering the past
one day at a time
slowly smiling 

holding the crass dead 
in a deep holed heart

now becomes the 
smoking refined blunderbust
executing sentences 
orchestral manouvres 
in a dark knight mind

a banshee assassin 
it’s a relative choice

The Woman Won
The Past Lost

all in good time...


(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)




"Tomorrow" / Ozzy Osbourne, Ozzmosis
https://youtu.be/isnqz-aJe4c
















https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/minor-arcana/suit-of-swords/knight-of-swords/

https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/magician/

https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/strength/








"A Tryal of Witches"/ Sydney University - 

https://library.sydney.edu.au/collections/rare-books/online-exhibitions/modernity/tryal.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bury_St_Edmunds_witch_trials





Bury St Edmunds Witch Trials:
https://www.visit-burystedmunds.co.uk/blog/2018/bury-st-edmunds-witch-trials 

https://famous-trials.com/salem/2059-pleadinnocent

https://famous-trials.com/salem/2031-accused





https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kangaroo_court







LYRICS/ "Tomorrow", Osbourne.
https://genius.com/Ozzy-osbourne-tomorrow-lyrics
"....if I wanted your opinion..."

Premium Member Aussie Adventures of Skeet and Rich

In Land of Oz a thousand feet below
  was the morn on New Year’s Day,
and ‘neath a shining weightless wing
  the steep sea cliffs of Botany Bay.

We taxied through old Sydney Town
  with all wild expectation to come -
and when in Rome did as Romans do
  and made way for the colosseum.

There it was, that grand noble edifice -
  mortals did her sidewalks pound,
through those gates the arena roared
  inside the Sydney Cricket Ground!

And later that balmy night wandered
  after a cruel last ball Windies loss,
but ever closer drew those neon lights
  in the noisy heart of King’s Cross.
                        
Among the pushers, whores and vice
  the city underbelly we did follow -
bordellos, dives, strip joints and bars
  led Skeet ‘n Rich to take in a show.

At sunup the heights of Centrepoint
  with its sky towering crow’s nest -
the sun and sands of Bondi to the east
  and Blue Mountains in the west.
                         
Behold Sydney Cove in Port Jackson 
  where soldiers and mariners sailed,
the tall ships that her garrison moored
  carried convicts from Blighty jailed.

And upon pink granite cathedral walls
  a new age do new virtues espouse -
its topaz curtain glass and white sails
  shining on that grand Opera House
                          
Next destination the Capital Territory
  and a disappearing lake rivermouth,
over hinterland plains and gorges deep
  and Snowy Mountains to the south.

Yon Canberra to the Queensland border
  at the wheel of our V6 Commodore,
over “The Bridge” up the Pacific Highway
  on seawatch north to Maroochydore.
                          
To Byron Bay, Coolangatta, Surfers rode
  the onya adventures of Skeet 'n Rich,
and after a thousand miles at our backs
  it was a true blue hot son-of-a-bit*h!

And at journey's end up in Cotton Tree
  on Aussie time we did celebrate -
struth, with a tinny and sambuca shots
  we got fair dinkum pissed, mate!


           Written: April 1996
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Trip Advisory

I chanced to look upon the world, through current
Channels..And much unfurled; I noted the various
Decades passed, wars on terror legalising grass..'
Wars on waste, the slogans did run, my mind reeled
Them off one by one.' I remember third world birthed
A helofull phrase, Beirut and Gaza Belfast the Maze
Bangladesh the tamils Uganda pol pot, reigns of hunger
And terror there has been a lot.' I remember the west
It seemed a planet away..From such raw anarchy and
And deprivation.' Yet is my mind astray.? No now I see that
Here there is also unrest, how did this occur my thought
Requests.? In the 60s take Bolton U K; many poor there
Yet not this dissaray.' Chicago Sydney Montreal Berlin
Paris Auckland just a random dip in.' Life for the many
Not what I'd call plush..Yet there was more structure
Amid the rush.' Amongst the mire the crush of the world
There was more christianity, and not just in word' even
Publicans suppported the church' people when asked
At random had (mostly) no lurch? Or other path i know
Of that.!maybe it was contrived.? Or just off pat.? Yet
I return to today, and our current trials.. Homelesness
Rampant violence idol worship trans-reality begging by
Media, and initiatives for every situation.! Answers abound
And yet I see.' Broken people, and citys; and towns. The
Former places still seem the same, only the west i think
Has changed.? Despite many billions gathered and spent
The wars and poverty do not relent, I question such I
Apprehend there is corruption much.'  Great power is no 
Human friend, as such.!

Philip Island Cowes in June 2025

2025.06.15

It was quite a while ago, 
I came here and wrote,
"BB was not here" and "JJ is here
On Queen Birthday 10 Jun 2024".
These words were written on the sand
On the the shores of both sides of the pier.
As time passed on, JJ sat and watched
The waves washed up onto the words,
Slowly encroached, engulfed and wiped
Them away bit by bit horizontally.
At the end, both written words on the beach,
In front of JJ, they all disappeared.

Then 6 months later I brought JC here,
It was his first trip to this beach,
Since he came down from Sydney.
At the end of last year.
I hoped he enjoyed the trip, the ferry,
The tourist town and our first date out.
Twenty two weeks went by,
The ocean, the beaches and the scenery
Remain almost the same as always.
But these two individuals have long gone,
The feelings and the friendships had finished for sure.

Frankly my friends BB and JC,
I do not care or feel ashamed.
I have lived five decades and seen many faces,
Some had double and some made troubles.
Strange and weird but I was sure,
Over three interactions with people,
Unless they had full intentions,
I usually spotted out their hidden agenda.
If they were sheeps wearing wolf skin 
Even crooks in professional suits.
I was tired of dealing with them,
It was like having endless battles
To find for fairness and justice.
© C33 B66  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace