Long Twenty fourth Poems
Long Twenty fourth Poems. Below are the most popular long Twenty fourth by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Twenty fourth poems by poem length and keyword.
True Christmas Miracle True Story Full version written by Wendy Horder. 2020
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
True Christmas Miracle
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
Blech - impossible mission to savor mug of ginger tea...
When the entire mug awash
with floating leavings
by golly by gosh,
sipping said herbal brew
analogous challenge
to eat spaghetti squash
with one chopstick.
Earlier yesterday February twenty fourth
two thousand twenty four
found yours truly (me)
blithely consuming delicious
La COLOMBE DOUBLE LATTE
cold iced latte, complete
with a frothy layer
of milk and a touch of sugar.
Lower gastrointestinal war civil
immediately declared
because yours truly beleaguered
by lactose intolerance.
Courtesy veritable sweet tooth
(er...rather dentures)
craved absolute zero sum game yoking,
wickedly villainous, x'acting tummy
upsetting Pavlovian salivating, romancing,
quid pro quo woe pea pie us, orthodox,
conventional, nun habit forming (Lie),
mouth watering, lip locked, kickstarting,
Je Suis ill lust trios, hymn bracing,
gobstopping, feasting immediate laxative
inducing, decadent chocolate baneful
cake courtesy of adoring bubela, (the
same over stuffed ego freezer oft
mentioned counterpart, who unwittingly
prepared spot of tea), charming,
hugely overpowering tenderly loving
zee missus diabolically exuding
"FAKE" gracious humane insinuating
jabbering, knowingly ill loo man hating,
needful offal pestiferous quasi rip
snorting, tush under fire, violent
whooshing, expelling xyz lower
abdominal contractions, indubitably
kindling, jumpstarting instagramming
howling, fostering execrable, debilitating,
besieging posterior, automatically
clutching derriere, experiencing ferocious
gluteus maximus intractable jabbing, knifing,
lacerating, mutilating nameless oaf (me),
painfully quaking das simian, torturously
undergoing vicious wretched excessive
yawping worse fate than death!
Otherwise ass hide from irritable bowel
syndrome approximately
twenty four hours ago
from Saturday February twenty fifth
two thousand twenty four
me quite yawningly wonderful, uneventful,
sedate, quiet, ordinary, mundane, languid,
joyously humdrum, fabulously for
two whit tuss lee drab
characterized local buttuck blaster
also hashtagged endearment
as bubble butt.
Now shall I cut thee a slice of outrageously
luscious, keister jump/kick starting heavenly
gourmet deluxe cheese cake?
#84
TEN UP
10^0
Ten to the zero is really just one,
positive power, its a whole, not a part.
We don’t move from the decimal,
it’s just where we start.
10^3
Ten cubed, or a kilo,
when dealing in drugs.
It’s a measure in metrics,
it’s the math of the thugs.
10^6
Ten to the sixth, or one million we say,
a number so big, you truly will cringe.
It’s the needed storeage for data,
we’ll use to stream in a binge.
10^9
Ten to the ninth! A billion or look...
it’s near the wealth of Bill Gates.
He’s fifty times this base and exponent,
let’s buy his stock at the lowest rates.
10^12
Ten to the twelfth, a trillion, so great!
In the Lascaux caves with ancient heart,
it’s the number of years,
since they painted this art.
10^15
Ten to the fifteenth, a quadrillion for scale,
one hundred seventy light-years, is this.
We could travel to Kappa Andromedae b,
a Super Jupiter planet, we’d not wanna miss.
10^18
Ten to the eighteenth, just a quintillion!
It’s all for the counting in our niche,
in molecules, for one drop of water,
or gains of sand on one beach.
10^ 21
Ten to the twenty-first, or sextillion, not less,
while counting this high to figure it out.
It’s the stars in the universe,
in total, on their misty nebula route.
10^24
Ten to the twenty-fourth, septillion the count.
It’s a layer of dollars covering the ground,
a blanket of money, each inch of the earth,
a kilometer thick, and easily found.
10^-3 and falling...
Be glad I didn’t go this other way,
with negative exponents dividing so small.
A ten raised to three, going left to a minus,
to Planck scale and shrinking, to nothing at all.
Given the powers of ten for such ease,
dividing with negatives, or growing in positives.
You’ll find you won’t need to write so many zeros,
when grappling big numbers and their causatives.
When meeting the sciences with powers of ten,
then quite easily, you’ll see all the fun!
Writing scales of the universe, or quantum realms,
in plus or minus, starting with zero, or one.
-Edlynn Nau
©April 2, 2019
For anyone trying to understand huge numbers!
Inspired by Neil deGrasse Tyson, and by students trying to
make sense of scale.
On the twenty fourth of February in twenty twenty two
Russia invaded Ukraine and fierce fighting did ensue
Vladimir Putin it seems, wants to restore the iron curtain
And sadly he will succeed, of that it looks certain.
Tanks and missiles, the Russians used in their attack
But against Putins thugs, brave Ukrainians are fighting back
Vladimir Putin is unhinged and he Is losing his sanity
Claiming the Ukraine is a threat, to Russian security.
He's made threats to the west, if they come to Ukraines aid
Does he honestly think that western powers are afraid
Unfortunately the Ukraine is not part of the Nato alliance
So the west introduced, heavy sanctions in defiance.
Hitting Russia with severe sanctions seems like a good idea
But it failed to stop Russian aggression, when they invaded Crimea
A lot more needs to be done though before it's too late
Or the Ukrainian people will suffer, an unspeakable fate.
The Ukrainian president has sent out a rallying cry
Ukrainians are bearing arms, and are prepared to die
The death toll will rise with casualties on either side
People are running to find safety but there's no where to hide.
Putin claimed only military targets, would be in the line of fire
But civilian apartments have been hit, Putin is a liar
There has been many deaths, some badly injured too
But they will fight to the last man, it's what they will do.
Acts of bravery the Ukrainians will always remember
Like the guards on Snake Island who refused to surrender
The Russian warship fired missiles, all thirteen men died
To me that is a war crime; those responsible should be tried.
The old days are over, the Soviet Union is long dead
Why can't Vladimir Putin get that fact in his head
Invading peaceful countries is an abominable crime
He should be charged with murder and put away for a long time.
Written 25th February 2022
In 1967, fresh out of high school at seventeen, I boarded a northbound bus to the metropolis of the mid-west. After arriving in Chicago, while waiting to be picked up by a family member, I met my first con-artist who ripped me off for ten dollars. That's the way I was welcomed to Chicago. Chicago provided my first full-time job with a metal plating company. In 1969 I experienced my first airplane flight from Chicago to Memphis, Tn., and in the Spring of 1968, I witnessed a riot in Chicago. It was the most confusing, the darkest, and the longest night of my life. After turning twenty-one, I cast my first ballot in Chicago. Attended a Chicago City-College a year before enrolling in a four-year college from which I graduated in 1972. Fresh out of college at twenty-two, got married in Evanston, a Chicago suburb. In 1973, fourteen months after getting married, just shy of my twenty-fourth birthday, had my first child in southern Wisconsin, 100 miles north of Chicago. In 1974 at the age of twenty-four, I bought my first car in Zion, a Chicago suburb. Chicago was where I rented my first apartment and shortly thereafter, I experienced my first burglary at this apartment. Sometime later, while all alone on a dark city street, I was strong-armed robbed for the first and only time in Chicago. Where I grew up there were lots of alcoholics, but I met my first heroin addict in Chicago. I attended my first Major League Baseball game at Wrigley Field in Chicago. I did not realize until this week that there were so many firsts in Chicago, and I suspect if I kept at this there would be a lot more. May it suffice to end this journey with three more firsts in Chicago: First bike, first kiss, first accident(my fault)........
051520PS
The invasion began on the twenty fourth of February
When in from Belarus came, the filth of humanity
The world soon got to know of their cruel depravities
Each town they invaded, they were guilty of atrocities.
Putin had hoped to announce victory, on the ninth of may
But strong Ukrainian resistance is standing in his way
Helped by the civilised world supplying arms to fight
Now Russia can no longer claim to have military might.
The west imposed heavy sanctions but the war is still raging
Especially in the Donbas region where defenders are engaging
Putin doesn't care for loss of life, to him it doesn't bother
While sending in his conscripts to be used as cannon fodder.
But don't be fooled for one minute and offer them any sympathy
For many of his soldiers have committed, vile acts of atrocity
Murder, rape and lootings have been committed commonplace
Reports of young children being bashed, with rifle butt's in the face.
Buildings shelled and under the rubble many people still alive
The Russian scum wouldn't allow anyone to help them survive
Mobile crematoria used to destroy evidence, of their killing spree
But evidence is being documented for the whole world to see.
Rebuilding all the infrastructure, will take a very long time
And the Russian aggressors must be made to pay, every last dime
Good will always triumph over evil and one day Ukraine will free
And hopefully in time be able to move on, from that awful tragedy.
To all the would be aggressors out there and especially Putin
The civilised world will support freedom and you'll never win
There will be no forgiveness or a route to save face
Humanity owes you nothing, you're an absolute disgrace.
Written on 6th May 2022
The Great Lakes Engineering Works built a new boat
S. S. Edmund Fitzgerald, t'would soon be afloat
The people that owned her needed a name
President of the company was given that fame.
One of the largest boats to sail on the Great Lakes
Was a solidly built boat and had what it takes
September twenty fourth nineteen fifty and eight
Was her maiden voyage, laden with freight.
The 'Mighty Fitz' was the nickname they gave her
'Titanic Of The Lakes', sadly that would come later
For years she shipped freight from town to town
Crossing the Great Lakes, left, right, up and down.
The lakes weather worsened in the month of November
Ferocious storm's that would pull ships asunder
That fateful day 'The Fitz' took a route
Sailing to Detroit from a port near Duluth.
A hurricane force storm was heading their way
Other ships took refuge in Whitefish bay
Captain McSorleys last message, " We're holding our own"
What happened thereafter isn't quite known.
The storm battered the boat with thirty foot waves
And sent all her crew to their watery graves
November the tenth, nineteen seventy five
The 'Mighty Fitz' sank, no one did survive.
Lake Superior was where the tragedy occurred
When the news got out, church bells could be heard
The Reverend Ingalls twenty nine times he did toll
For the crew of 'The Mighty Fitz' every lost soul.
A memorial service is held once a year
The bells are tolled, they pray, shed a tear
Stories have been written, and a ballad too
Dedicated to the men of 'The Mighty Fitz' crew.
A Noteworthy Ship Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Ligouri
Written 18.12. 2017
Amidst the “pitter-patter” of diamond rain droplets,
As though tearing the soft womb of the dark sky like rockets,
Lightning “crackled”! As though electrified, thunder “rumbled”!
Will my hopes, like brim-filling drops from a pot, get tumbled?
I am hurt often by rocks of failures “flumping” on me,
Human life seems to be a poem full of irony;
He's the twenty-fourth soldier killed within twenty-four hours,
“Rustling leaves” and “whipping” wind used to sing of his powers!
Romantic scenes sound like death knells in sudden turns of life,
Waves of pains might be “crashing” in the heart of his young wife;
Hales seems to “snap” and asking where the future might leads to,
Soldiers saving the nation “whooshed” into undying woe!
“Booming”, “banking”, like the wars we fight; our lives dawn and end,
Sometimes “swishing”; sometimes “swooshing”; routines roughly resent!
Born with the breeze! Gone with the wind! Who cares, here, about whom?
Life is to live! When one lives, another is in the tomb!
Dead leaves “rattled” like my soldier friend's well-starched uniforms,
Others may hear mine tomorrow amidst “howls” of the storms;
Singing the romance of wars? Get wounded! Killed! You will learn!
When none left to cry for you, truths of life you will discern!
Stop your “gurgling” now, O River, rushing to join the sea!
Pay a short homage to my friend, who's like you in great plea!
Empty, he has commenced his journey to know what is more!
Lay him on your “laps”; reach him safe, to the eternal shore!
18 October 2021
Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Black and white Advent calendar
I will make you red and green
Haven't you heard the red oleander
Dropping its last leaf for December sheen
Growing up with bullets in the Taliban
Blood spills into the streets of Kashmir
Still the Calendar craves and calls for
Gold, Frankincense and balmy myrrh
Whenever the birds are all gone
Open the crimson card door
See, when the star will return
As the Bethlehem angels soar
In the centre of the white frost
In every cube of icy story
Look at the pink loving bouquet
Smiling to greet the glory
I do remember the pine tree
I had planted on such a day
So that he can keep green
Whether December or May
He will come he will come
Chocolate of assurance in every window
Tender palms and the face handsome
Soft yellow with sunrise glow
Advent box of twenty-fourth December
Leads me to the Angel moonlight
Echoes of the Migdal Eder
Shining star in the ebony night
What is in the last box
Christmas tree or red cherry?
I kept waiting with wonder
Like the child like strawberry
A photo came out depicting Jesus
Almost as a man like we are
With personality as the Mount Everest
And a heart with cucumber care
We will light the waiting candles
Deck up spirited Christmas trees
Lay our ears to the vibrant voice
I come back with the Christmas breeze
The voice rises from the seas and rivers
Also from the stars above
In spite of bullets and pistols
What prevails are his wounds of love
'______________________________________
13/12/2018
Originally published in all poetry.com
Sharing with soup friends here