Best Napoleon Poems
Napoleon Bonaparte.
Smaller than a popcorn fart.
Not man enough for Josephine.
You know exactly what I mean.
Corsica born, and an emperor mighty indeed.
Who from obscurity came up to prominence,
who from French shores the attacks of armies repelled,
who had at his disposal, Europe's resources,
who to Saint Helena from French shores was expelled.
Of old Italian nobility he was seed.
Shortish in height, yet towering in ambition.
Military genius of the highest distinction
whose military strategy is second to none save
Alexander. Whose courage is held in reverence,
whose cradle at infancy was kept in a cave
from strong invading imperialist French forces.
He gave up an empire so vast at Waterloo;
A threat to the memories of his victories past.
Mighty Napoleon, who at Austerlitz excelled,
you did on the beautiful older Josephine cast
your loving eyes, which were hypnotized with passion,
yet focused still on so lofty an ambition.
Not even your love for her would rival your love
for world conquest, for which you assiduously strove.
I sense a Napoleon complex
As Joe the canary his wings flex
He stretches tall and proud
Squawks and shrieks really loud
At the Seagull who has huge, huge pecs
Napoleon the powerful fighter
whose mind was nimbler and lighter
than others whose malicious minds resided in lies,
and in vain and inane imaginations.
His brain's train of thought stayed rooted in reality,
Which gave him greater cogitations and a mind,
divine and higher above the rest of the world's imagination,
rooted in fantasy, and lies, in things that do not exist.
The emperor did worship the truth,
whose soul led him to detest illusions.
Restlessness in spirit...
he became 'The Corsican,'
over-bearance of a mother
he was forced to take a stand!
And he became...
Anxious!
Counter-veiling parent ways,
a struggle for his life.
A paradox, he was attached
to Josephine, his wife.
And he became...
Lonely!
From his father he derived,
magnetic forces... not contrived.
From his mother, discipline...
as an influence he would win!
And he became...
Aggressive!
All his moods authenticated,
and his habits demonstrated!
One reserved... he was alone...
when provoked and on his own,
he became...
Ruthless!
As a 'poor boy' he embittered,
cynicism as he whithered.
Feelings all about his mother...
made him wary of another.
And he was...
Suspicious!
Pessimism without rest,
as he tried to be the best!
Perfectionism with disdain,
Napoleon, he would remain...
Impatient!
A Romantic fantasy...
as he struggled to be free!
Contradiction... he persisted...
obstacles which he resisted,
and he became...
Neurotic!
Self-destruction played a part,
'Raison d etat' became his art!
His adventures they'd explain...
a defiance for his gain.
And he became...
Impulsive!
Betrayal was a theme in life,
his possession for a wife.
Hail Josephine in all her flare...
but she became a snare!
And he was...
Depressed!
Money, it was his obsession,
predominant in his depression!
Napoleon was...
Reckless!
Sexuality for his desire,
when a woman was on fire...
Napoleon was so naive
for any woman to receive,
and he became...
Secretive!
A pragmatist or so it seems,
a fantacist with his own dreams...
Two sides of great Napoleon,
but he would win!
And he became...
Lucky!
Napoleon, he was a charmer...
indecisive in his armor.
Napoleon, he had his way...
all his men that he would sway,
and he became...
Intollerant!
An intellect with awesome range,
prodigious memory without change.
A lucid mind that he offset...
those qualities which he'd regret.
Napoleon became...
Romantic!
An intellectual was at war,
satisfaction to get more!
All for his imagination
he became...
Obsessed!
Napoleon, he searched for light,
in the sky for his delight.
He claimed he saw his star...
and he went far!
And he became...
A Hero!
and crowned himself...
Emperor!
Robert's Book of Poetry
from Napoeloen...A Biography
by Frank McLynn
The locals’ boats all gathered round;
Napoleon was in The Sound
On board Bellerophon.
Two guardships kept the crowds at bay;
The Emperor was on his way
To exile, freedom gone.
Jack Horne for Dr Ram’s Tail Rhyme contest
On the plains of Europe I contend for an empire.
On love's battlefields I have contended more for thee.
A stare from your rolling eyeballs consumes me like fire,
as I seek entrance to a world of just you and me.
Mademoiselle Josephine, you are truly my world's wonder.
What precious gem or treasure can I to thee render?
Not even Europe's plundered gold could my love equate
for the diamond damsel I ask for a lifetime's date.
What eloquent poetry could my words for thee describe,
and what tender words of mine could I on thine heart inscribe?
A thousand princes may indeed contend for thine heart,
each of them loves-truck with your magical Cupid's dart.
A thousand more princes may contend for thy dowry,
but relentless I'll be to see their love plans go awry.
Like Napoleon, I was born.
He led the French army,
I made sure the sheep got shorn.
And while I was covered deeply in sheep's doo,
he met his Waterloo.
And when on Saint Helena he died,
none of my sheep cried.
At Austerlitz I two nations vanquished;
making me historically distinguished.
At Marengo I had Austria subdued;
then I was to honour undoubtedly glued.
At the Pyramids, Mamluks kissed the sands;
then like a French Pharaoh I annexed their lands.
At Jena-Auerstadt, Prussia to her knees fell,
to avoid carnage, and possibly hell.
At Borodino, Kutuzov my boots licked,
as his Russian forces had their arses kicked.
At Ligny, Blucher like a coward fled,
as his smitten forces profusely bled.
At Toulon I first distinguished myself
for a career that would exalt oneself.
Rolica, Leipzig, Waterloo like curses came,
but history will forever my triumphs reclaim.
The canons thunder,
the rifles rage,
and the horses
like swarms of bees
storm the plains
of feudal Europe.
Her princes tremble
and willingly
capitulate.
Prussia's undoubtedly mine
from Bavaria to the Rhine.
Russia's dreary wintry plains
will be where my scepter reigns.
Italy is my inheritance
as Portugal dreads resistance.
Without the sword i'll woo Poland
whilst to her knees i'll bring England
and kingdoms of the British isles.
French civilization and styles
will dethrone Europe's old order
as our ideals expand further.
O' his mighty soul
Truly a man of courage
And all for his France
Haven't heard recently about Napoleon Blownapart
Perhaps it's because his parts were blowed off the chart
Hard to survive
When parts have flied
All over the country, such sadness it imparts
Give me a smile, that I may build on your assurance,
Kiss me, that I may have to thy kind heart entrance,
Love me less, and see how tumultuous life could be,
Give thy command, and see my loyalty to thee.
In thine absence, mine heart cannot from thee depart;
A moment's departure would rend my world apart.
I recall that very day I beheld thy face;
A lasting memory I will forever retrace.
That Sunday when thine eyes did my emotions disarm;
The day mine heart responded to thy Love's alarm,
The day you sat upon mine heart's epicentre,
To govern my feelings from their very centre.
Josephine my love, I bequeath my self-will to thee,
Let me thy world share, and make thine own tumults mine,
And come in to my own world, for all I have is thine.
He that trod upon subservient Europe
with the imperial guards' fighting prowess,
did himself and his heartthrob the empress,
entrench thrones jointly owned by their hookup.
He that caused guns to rage on Europe's plains,
and cannons to thunder on Egypt's sands,
sent hussars and mamluks to distant flight.
He usurped crowns for his dear siblings' gains,
and enthroned loyalists to head vanquished lands.
But was banished for good from France's sight
after a stunning loss on Belgium's plains.
For the merited sake of Kangaroo
Let’s march towards any exhibiting zoo,
Advised to be humble the Napoleon-Tough,
Who still could meet his Waterloo
With a kick, hard and rough
From the Mature Kangaroo.
For the clear heroism of Kangaroo,
Control the urge to at it boo:
The Beautiful Brain behind our incubator
By medics as treasured as a student his calculator.
By biologists classed under Marsupial:
Whatever that means;
Its members rare like pearl
And rather few in screens.
Long jumpers with dreaming feet
To wisely forget the kangaroo’s feat;
Not a fame to ever pick
In a thousand Olympic…
Australia’s legacy to Humanity
And The Premature in maternity.