Long Abdicated Poems
Long Abdicated Poems. Below are the most popular long Abdicated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Abdicated poems by poem length and keyword.
Color me red
And blunt my bangs
Obscure my brows
And shield them from the sun
Replicate your enigma
Polished and shined
A mirror to your soul
Twin pools of gray
With a hint of blue
That's ever growing wider
What is it you see
When you meet your gaze?
Please hold me tight
Enough to leave your mark
Pink crescent moons
Dyeing my shoulders
Serving as your earthbound tether
What was it you saw
When you met your gaze?
Have you lost your place
Among the stars
My Full Moon Queen
My Full Moon Queen?
Your abdicated throne
Gleams pitch-black here
My Full Moon Queen
My Full Moon Queen.
It's the most significant day in Black American history
December 6,1865 the legal ending of chattel slavery
It was 157 years ago
When they finally let God's people go
In the year 1619 was when it all started
Africans from the Motherland were permanently parted
And when in 1787 the US Constitution came to be
The southern states now wanted the slaves
To be considered more than property
Hence there was a compromise to that plan
Black slaves would be denoted as 3/5 of a man
But in 1810 an alarming trend America would then see
The slave population started growing exponentially
Also there were now many free Blacks as well
Who were educating the slaves and causing all kinds of hell
So in 1830 the white Americans enacted a law
That teaching slaves to read would be no more
But they didn't stop at that they came at the Black preachers too
To stop them from giving knowledge and preaching the gospel truth
The Abolitionist movement in America was then born
This mighty democratic republic then became torn
The Dred Scott Decision to Blacks was a devastating blow
Until Abe Lincoln came into power to now run the show
11 southern states abdicated and the Confederacy came to fruition
A Civil War erupted in defiance of the US Constitution
The Emancipation Proclamation was then handed down
Lincoln said I'm president and this conflict over slavery stops now
And in 1864 the 13th Amendment was drafted and enacted
It ended slavery with a lot of southern dissatisfaction
Abolitionists went to Congress on January 31,1865
To make sure that Amendment in session would not be passed by
Yet it took almost an entire year for enough states to ratify
Then legally & federally slavery in America did die
4 million plus Black Americans were now legally free
Abolition Day a momentous day in Black American history
King Edward The VIIIth, pitiable blighter, abdicated the throne.
He had the hots for an American divorcee - this the Brits would not condone!
He was King for a spell and the paramours continued their torrid romance.
They later wed, he was busted to Duke of Windsor and they settled in France.
Wallis Simpson was middle-class but knew how to climb the social rungs.
She was twice divorced which triggered a legion of wagging tongues.
They met at Lady Furness's digs and Wallie thought Eddie not all that sexy,
But they wed incurring upon The Archbishop of Canterbury a case of apoplexy!
Entry for Carolyn Devonshire's "Clerihew Couples For Valentines Day" Contest
(10 January 2019)
An excerpt from my new short story:
Contributing factors, however, are deemed as an assortment embracing negativity and were reinforcements for the young idealist. Granted to resonate by the dark lord was his underlying purpose. The premise has been appropriated. Likewise, the preceding groundwork was properly shoveled underneath. A particular young idealist realigns his outlook and foresees his fresh novel and still sought-after directive. Politics was a voracious subject, not so much academically, but it's a side subject welcomed by scholars considering it just as an extra curriculum. The topic may have been reworded, but his inner values sustain him representing his singular verbiage that goes on unwaveringly. As his agenda gathers momentum, attracting newcomers who realign their political views with his, draws the attention of the local region. Soon thereafter, the rest of the country will be on the ball, by way of his name. His political point of view which framed him since birth, now frames a country. The dark lord is on the rise bearing gifts purposed for an original firstborn. Introduced into a split family valued life of pluses and minuses, and compounded with his educational woes, evil's birthright was given a unique name. Historians, during their early stages, were amidst the golden glow of a virgin Europe, circa 1900.
It would later serve as a guide for his yet-to-be, future. WWI military losses for the Central forces were; 4,386,000, with; 3,700,000 civilian casualties. The Russian Empire conceded to the Bolsheviks Revolution who then executed the Imperial family. Military losses for the Allied forces were; 5,525,000, with; 4,000,000 civilian casualties. The German Empire ended after Kaiser Wilhelm II abdicated his throne on November 9th, 1918. Two days later on the 11th of November 1918, The Peace Armistice was signed by the newly formed, German Republic, and the Soviet Union. The end of WWI left a highly decorated Adolf, wholly confident and sharply experienced.
You grow so fast, already showing glimpse of awesome creativity
and transform discoveries from the industrious nature of your observations
so squat at my feet and raise your attentive head up high
to be equipped for this compulsory journey oh sweet creature of my seed.
My hands of your molding and chastisement
are already the processing engine of your refinement
my strong willed mind and love soaked heart
complete the stages as you hold steadfast
to the train I’ve prepared for you
Listen attentively as I perform this segment of my duties
and lets take a tour round the routes of wisdom
and gallivant the landscape of experience
while I pedal your feet and smoothen your soles
Seasoned flavored virtues are an armour through which
life’s shots are overcomed
and a colourful behaviour becomes a saviour in times of need
Labor not your whole life in chasing vapour
for out of vigour, flour is made from wheat,
Bread from flour, but all for a time of enjoyment and satisfaction
Guilty syndrome is exhibited when a person answers unasked questions
and don’t force out jokes from your head
or else people will think your sense of humor is on a life support
Sunset is no accuse for the clock to stop running ad infinitum
thus, an excuse is like a punctured umbrella
it’ll still not stop the invasion of raindrops
Your natural desires are borderless, but your ability
to strongly control them is what makes you distinct
from other species in the animal kingdom
Love has no prefix, suffix or adjective
it is what it is and as powerful as
causing natural instincts to be abdicated in favour of kindness
just for the carnivore to embrace abstinence.
He who begins a tale becomes its reference
don’t say what you cannot defend in court
rumour is a bad odour which spreads beyond the neighbourhood
and puts a noisy siren on your personality
Bad companionship will lead you to the garbage
and corrupt friends will join others
to marvel at the immortality of your adopted stupidity
Wash your face every morning with these words
and take your every meal with these lines
then would they be spices
to which your life is preserved.
Poetry is like medication, in each release of expression,
there is healing - Poet.
In the realms of lost childhoods,
where demons prey upon the defenceless -
no one hears your screams.
I wandered spiritless,
like an abdicated soul,
renouncing my existence.
But the pain kept me alive.
I was an unknown vagabond,
forgotten and begotten,
within an eerie mist of misunderstanding.
Sly shadows with crimson eyes
tracked my silent sighs of sorrow,
so I suppressed sincere secrets -
too embarrassed to express.
Until I fell upon verses from dead rhapsodists,
which taught me to become that poem.
With blessings from pseudonym poets,
wounded words began to burn in metaphors.
Ink engulfed in sizzling lava dripped
in impulsive poetic allusions -
expression led to a catharsis of clarity.
I found an abode in decorative alliteration,
a perfect province in personified prose,
where each stanza became my sanctuary.
Under the shelter of fervent free verse,
I collected every shard of hope,
and placed them in my heart.
Sonnets of sentimental dwellings,
revealed syllables of an untold narrative.
The curse of Iambic pentameter
could not prevent bleeding blisters from healing.
My quill is now a silent juxtaposition
of deafening poetic onomatopoeia.
Once upon a time holly loosely based
upon a true story
There was a man who shall be called
Lord Mountbatten / Battenberg
A true Hero in every sense of the word
Or so we all we're and have been told
1 part German somewhat British like
his father before him
Who now looking back upon reflection
truth now be eventually able to be told
The fact's don't seem to bare out
what we were in fact told to believe
and make of him
Because what he in fact seemed to
be was this
A man who rose to the lofty position
of Admiral despite the fact he crashed
3 ship's and cost countless lives
Who ingratiated himself through any
means into the grace's of the upper
echolocation of royalty and polite
society in order to service his agenda
Who resided over partition which the
losses and aftermath are still being
counted till today
Orchestrated the introduction and
marriage of his nephew Phillip to
Queen Elizabeth
And dropped his lifelong childhood
friend the King in waiting for his
brother when he abdicated
In retrospect not fit to even be granted
so much as an audience in or with
such company in fact sullies their good
name and reputation
Unlike a man who through his deed's and
actions saved 2 million plus lives and
shortened the war by breaking the Enigma
code
Who unlike him was not repaid with
numerous honours and titles bestowed
on him in recognition of his contribution
But instead was chemically castrated
berated and worst of all suffered the
indignation of being hidden and wiped
from history altogether
At least now it's finally left up for prosperity
and history to decide with all the facts placed
clearly clarified on display
Who is fit to be called a Hero King
in all but Reginal name
Duality which is in motion must be stilled
If we would observe singular reality within
Muddied waters need to be distilled
Only when the mists clear, may meditation begin
Perpetual motion of body, senses & thought
Grooves of habit having huge momentum
Repressed subconscious fears & desires, which we forgot
Are all our nemesis resident in the egos sanctum
Without stopping that which is in motion
Negativity may yet be abdicated
By disassociation
In four easy steps to a consciousness elevated
Contemplation
Acceptance
Transformation
Transcendence
Four effortless steps to permanent wellness
Of which only the first two we need to walk
The last two bestowed by the Universe in stillness
So simple, so easy, yet strangely we balk!
02-November-2020
—The Last Tear Before Stone—
I retraversed the vale
Where anamnesis itself
Had forsworn my appellation.
The natal habitation remained unsealed,
Its taciturn chambers
Consecrating a silence
More primordial than bereavement.
Beyond the effaced thoroughfares,
A river had relinquished
Its fluency beneath immemorial stone.
One solitary scintilla endured—
The ultimal lachryma
Ere transience capitulated
Unto perdurance.
I reached.
And the self
I had sedimented
From laurels,
Certitudes,
And adamantine appellations,
Underwent its noiseless kenosis.
No empyrean responded.
The mountains perdured.
The telluric deep remained inexhausted.
Only possession,
Long enthroned within my grasp,
Abdicated.
Then,
Within that immaculate relinquishment,
An unbegotten Presence—
Without visage,
Without locution,
Without nominable essence—
Surpassed
Both nativity
And sepulture.
I departed
Bearing neither hierophany
Nor testament.
The river
Had never supplicated.
The stone
Had never required grace.
Let citadels
Be ingested
By Chronos.
Let sceptres
Revert to particulate oblivion.
Let every utterance
Be reabsorbed
Into the anteverbal silence.
Let every pilgrimage
Recede
Unto its telluric origin.
For ere the first river
Apprehended
The solar incumbency of flow,
The lachryma
Was already lithic.
And ere creation
Remembered water,
Lithos
Already
Was.
My scaled lips have a story, repelling
enough to well up tears in the telling.
My heart is rocked at its place of dwelling
Expect not a merry word from a face unsmiling
Toppling of troughs in the shrine brought anguish
Suffocating under unhappiness and darkness
Of disregarded rites, now gods are come to punish
A mortal with sandy throat devoid of life freshness
Cup of my diet since I joined the beings of earth
Like a lamb, was pushed in to a manger of boiling barrel
and inhaled the yellow of all that was not life but death
that early I embraced the cup of bev that was sterile
advocates say my kin suffered a deal, anytime I cut a drink
abdicated duties, has my scions grafted abroad, pollen
a field has sprouted at my feet, kingdom on the brink
Smoking barrels here come to dry a sullen wet woolen
The city throbs in my forehead but I hear it not
My spine thinner than ever from the trembling
Of week long dearth of my cherished cup
Lodging in the loo timing the next bowel move
twitching jawbone gives yet a crisp performance
Coming in tune with the abdominal rumble
I cough and serve nothing to the white bowl
Because all I ever had was a sterile drink
Ten days gone.