Long Village Poems
Long Village Poems. Below are the most popular long Village by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Village poems by poem length and keyword.
My five-year-old wrote:
Today I went to school.
We sit so long
we wet ourselves if we forget.
We are tested to read,
to obey,
to survive silence.
Dragged from bed by scared parents,
faces pressed into coats,
eyes half-asleep,
small bodies hauled to obey.
Exhausted, feverish,
falling asleep on the walk home.
The “village” is gone.
Mothers work.
Mothers clean.
Mothers breathe in the halls of the school
that slowly kills us.
Work, chores, survival—outsourced
to the institution that measures life in lessons,
marks, and obedience.
Every day, a machine.
Curiosity flattened.
Joy stolen.
Bodies trained.
Minds caged.
The cycle of work, of consumption, of obedience,
designed to trap us,
to keep the brainwashing alive.
We are alive.
We are here.
Even as the system tries to vanish us.
One day, the world will wake.
We will see the cages we lived in.
The system that called itself education,
but was really slow, quiet abuse.
The great child abuse scandal of this century.
And we will ask ourselves,
whatever role we played—
teacher, parent, policymaker, bystander—
why did we comply?
We will remember:
children wetting themselves,
children falling asleep on the walk home,
children dragged from beds before the sun could rise,
children forced to learn,
children always ill,
children always exhausted,
trapped in a world designed to crush life,
to flatten joy,
to cage curiosity,
to train obedience.
We went to school.
We survived.
We remember.
We will not forget.
I live in a magical forest
Tall ferns greet me on the east
Along with frothy Queen Anne’s lace
And a purple lilac tree with dainty blossoms
I live in a beautiful forest
With a snowball bush and an apple tree.
Walnuts drop onto my driveway
Trees hiding me from the neighbors
I live in a mystical forest
Deer come nearly to the house to eat my flowers
Foxes and wolves merrily prance around,
Raccoons and opossums are on my porch nightly
I live in an amazing forest
Cardinals, robins, and wrens fly in
Overhead I see hawks and eagles.
There is a marsh to the east of me.
I live in a wonderful forest
Fifty years ago this land was known as Indian Village
The Wyandotte tribes pitched their tents here in the summer
And planted wild iris that still grows with wild daisies and wild strawberries.
I live in a magical forest.
Pain is random
Love, just so if it happens
The wall of your fortress it just might crack down
A Knight in shining armour, pretty girl he's got your back now
Because its not a pretty world let me lay the facts out
Evil men prevail but ill lash out and ill act out.
Let the forces of darkness surround me
Let false acts of kindness be brought down here
Never bitter toward you let their strenght be in numbers
And ill let mine be in the Lord and when they sleep and slumber
I'll make a way of escape and they won't even know it
The Princess is really the Queen of my dreams under the cloak of the darkness
Now there been a matter of excitement
go inside the village and you can hear it dicussed there
you feel this energy of shouts coming from the crowd "God is Deliverence"
He fights my enemys or else i am just a sheep for the slaughter
A bossy spirit resides in the clearing see the chopping block
Every best freind of mine is trying to chop mine off
LIke blocks of herbs and posionous spices
And led that is fed to the unsuspecting victim
Like little pieces of glass mesured out and the plans for her lover are exucuted percisely
But he hangs on in love and suffers longer
Now i know its sounds horrible coming from an executer
I pronounce death on you and the ax swings down and the crowd sendsa cheer up
now back then they didnt call it the city
They all knew it by the name of " the kings amusment park"
Now come and bite into this apple
you test every piece of fruit and the way she is dancing makes you feel awful
because you know you seen her put the posion in it
Your like oh well God is the king and treat him accordingly
And i slap it out your hand and tell you, you musnt eat
You foolish man dont you know the king is trying to posion you.
You are acting like your rank will give you stature
Im like dont even make me mad at you
I just save your life and your demanding an explanations
The kings eyes are like daggers gushing into your heart man
Now listen dont stare the Queen Im trying to help you
For Your majesty is consumed with thye spirit of jealousy
Now watch and please observe me
i am not only a knight of the king
I am Gods servant
The moment is approaching quickly when the heaven will examine your innate beauty and place you on the center stage before you make that illusionary walk up the imaginary isles.
I can imagine what it would be like to see you dressed in that sparkling spotless color holding your breath while you wait motionless for those magic hands to escort you to the altar, and when they hand you over to them the angels will sing a joyous hymn and the innocence in your eyes will smile at the occasion as it unfold in your pride.
I have seen you in your heightened mood and I have watched you when you are cool, the village come running after you when you walk barefooted without shoes, I have listened to your gory days and I am content with your frantical emotions when morning comes alive.
Your action can be justified when they start attacking you from every side, sometimes I wonder how you survive when the enemies surround you from every corner.
You have managed to maintain your equilibrium and hold up your head high in the burning sun, and when the pressure mounts you lost yourself in music.
There is a special magic in you that makes your life so brilliant, you sit in that tiny space yet so large for the whole world to see.
You sit there with your heart full of grace and you never lose insight, of who you are, you have kept your focus all the way and have never once gone astray.
You have held your balance and when your mood rises above the storm you held strongly to the ship and they fall one by one like domino in a ditch and you kept on working.
The moment is approaching when heart will meet and diamond will give them a new treat, they will take their leave to go and mingle in the breeze and the side post will be a guide as they explore the bliss in their youthful pride.
It was just like yesterday but the moment kept sailing away and I can see it all coming together now.
(In the late Middle Ages, the people
of the Spanish village of Fuente
Ovejuna rose up spontaneously and
killed their cruel overlord.)
No, there were no words.
Nobody seduced the villagers
with, "What Is To Be Done?"
No-one came with drums
to smite the heart
and pummel the Pueblo walls.
Best call it a communal twitch,
a spasm in the Pueblo soul.
Nothing seized us, entered into us.
More accurately, something went.
We seemed to have mislaid ourselves awhile.
Of the doers, who shall abide the deed?
None recalls the doing.
What can it be likened to?
Falling down a wellshaft?
Oppressive closeness,
voices that were all torque.
When we returned,
ugly sunlight had transformed The Thing
into a thing more prosaic.
The village was itself again.
But It had lost Its head.
People (we were plural once again)
were still as corpses.
Someone said, without conviction,
"Tyranny is dead".
A throat was cleared.
It didn't look like Tyranny.
It just looked uncomfortable
where it lay, contorted.
Some of them spat and shuffled off,
some just stood uneasily,
impressed at their own embarrassment.
Happy family
When I was 51 I had an affair with dancer
She didn`t want the baby and gave it to me.
Can you imagine? The village women rallied around
A thought is how to change nappies.
I also had to take in a dog no one wanted because it was
aggressive, not a bit of it she had a purpose in life
protecting me and the baby.
Years passed and when she was six she began school
I drove her there but had to sit outside so she could
see me, later that day we drove into town to buy
suitable clothes what I picked out she didn`t like
so I left her to it.
I heard a scream; she was in a panic I was not there
picked her up she clung to me and said: daddy never
leave me. We were a happy little family the doom-struck
her mother came back and claimed the child there
was little could do, so dog went behind the sofa sulking
I sat on the sofa drinking wine.
Life goes on the dog and I went for walks that got shorter
and shorter as she was quite elderly had a white snout
and sagging stomach and was grumpy in the morning.
One day I went into town when coming back she had died.
I borrowed a spade to dig a hole but had no strength
Bu I saw two big sandstones leaning toward each other
Forming a grotto I put her in there.
As I said year’s passes when I was 71 I needed surgery
Think it is called a bypass, sitting there with a tube in my stomach
There was a knock on the door and in came my daughter
Cried as I have never cried before, she was studying
to become a doctor. When I was feeling better I wanted
to take the bus home. She would hear nothing of it
And arranged for an ambulance, she was in charge
a right bossy little madam, of course, she had a job in Faro
but she visited me every other day, telling me what to do.
Then she got a posting in Cascais and with my new wife, we moved there. Her mother had said she was not
my real daughter, like I, should care she is mine
nothing can separate us, but I wish she hadn`t been so bossy.
They are walking! Walking, walking, walking!
Long stretches of walk - hundreds of miles of impossible uncertainty,
in blazing sun, in sweltering, muggy, heat - running away from an Inferno.
Home, sweet home! Villages with shady trees!
Destination!
Thirst, hunger, bleeding.
They trudge, fatigued babies hanging on their shoulders like sandbags,
starving infants clutching hands, tears dry on their cheeks.
Men and women - walk, walk, walk!
Leave cities where cruelty is the only language,
Villages with shady trees -
Home, sweet home, far away.
Burning sun, sweating bodies, dry throat, growling tummies.
Slog beside railroads - follow tracks,
no trains, no buses, no trucks, no vehicles,
only two weary feet to carry them to their destination,
plodding with all their might until the body can not move a step further.
Lie on the tracks - it’s hard, it’s cold, it’s comforting!
Come rest, come sleep, come death -
Blood-stained tracks-
Destination never came.
Sh! They are building the teacup tower tonight.
I shivered with excitement, understanding what this might mean.
Like Jack who climbed the beanstalk, I intended to travel to Saturn
Past the giants, the clouds, the dark holes.
I was too thrilled to do anything but watch.
My entire village was eager to give a hand.
I wanted to do whatever I could.
They kept shouting orders, which I followed gladly.
Hoping I would get my turn to travel to the stars.
Working together as one, we built into the night.
Unfortunately, farmer's wife unstacked them again.
She does this every morning, but we elves are not quitters.
If your'e going to preach it brother.? Hit-em with the Gospel
For its like no other; Spell' Speak of mercy..And the flames of hell' and ring out the message like a ten ton bell.' Tell the truth
'The world is round' like Isaiah shouted.' He really went to
Town.' Also the village for that to matters.' No doubt giving
The matrons a feast of natters.' Yes tell of the King! With a
Sceptre of iron.' Ruler of Nations the one so much better,' by
Leaps and leauges.' Yet a donkey His steed! the pharisees bane.' He allowed them to keep their greeds.' Yes preach of
Life and tbe riches of God.' To all those destined to go under
The sod.' Some clerics may repent.?To turn away? from the
Gasp-ell of death they gasp out today.' Nothing is new as
Solomon put.' Just whitewashed tombs on top thats it.' The
Bones of this matter.' Wont be raised at all.' Who have gasp-ed
Out the message of slavery and thrall.' Its hotter than this
Poem.'The place they must go.' If you don't want to join them 'just let Jesus know.'
Oh, how it drew me in, that magic ball-
When Grandma let me hold it long ago.
I cupped my hands to shake it up a bit,
And all at once, it filled with swirling snow!
The snowflakes settled neath a bright blue sky-
And on a tiny church and village, too.
There, standing in the middle, were two deer
Staring at me with love, so sweet and true.
Each time I went to Grandma's house, for sure-
After I hugged and kissed her, there I'd run
To shake it gently so it came alive,
And with the deer told stories to each one.
So like a tiny world, made just for me!
Oh, how it drew me in, that magic ball!
Though much has faded over many years,
This memory still glows in my recall.