Long Accomplices Poems
Long Accomplices Poems. Below are the most popular long Accomplices by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accomplices poems by poem length and keyword.
Sophie Scholl was raised a Christian in a Lutheran family
Born in the town of Forchtenberg in south west Germany
For standing defiant against evil with her young life she'd pay
In a country that was in deep turmoil and had lost its way.
She was a young teenager in nineteen thirty three
When a new leader offering hope, emerged in Germany
Adolf Hitler was an Austrian, who came to power
And for many it was the start of their darkest hour.
To unite the German people the Nazis held rallies
In some of the larger towns and all the big cities
But something dark and sinister was taking place
The evil Nazis were plotting to create a master race.
All the youth were encouraged to join an organisation
Hitler youth they were known all over the nation
Sophie and her brother together, with some of their friends
Turned their backs on the movement and vowed to make amends.
Word was getting around about death camps and persecution
Together they decided to form, a small non violent organisation
Known as the 'White Rose' who urged the people to renounce Hitler
They handed out leaflets telling the truth, about the Nazis slaughter.
One day at Munich University where Sophie studied as a student
She was seen distributing leaflets on what Nazi ideology meant
A janitor intervened and confronted her, and wouldn't let her go
She was arrested and then handed over to the notorious Gestapo.
They interrogated her to find out, who her accomplices were
But she wouldn't give them their names, as they tortured her
They charged her with high treason and sentenced her to death
To die by the guillotine and the date of execution was set.
They executed twenty one year old Sophie for making a stand
And they had accused her of being a traitor, to the fatherland
They eventually captured the others, five of them in all
And they too walked to their deaths standing proud and tall.
It’s people like Sophie who want to make the world a better place
And not supporting some twisted ideology like a master race
The Nazis were eventually defeated and their leaders tried
But not before Sophie and millions of other innocents had died.
Written 15th May 2021.
Most are related to shipwrecked ghosts,
accomplices of my blood
that can still be found
in geographically scattered albums.
When there were cities to occupy,
they lived one level below expectations.
Like defective fireworks, some went off early.
A more dedicated few grew old and medicated.
They built defunct railroads and dug ditches
they later fell into.
They were navigators of small shady schemes.
Their brief settlements and abrupt departures
left fuzzy lines on blacktops and concrete.
As a family, we are estranged and unknown,
but we do speak to our dead
if they come to call, of course
only after a respectable period
of life-long disinterest.
Whispering leaves, cherry blossoms
pigeons grumbling, winds howling in the dark.
On land, on water
like a cup of gold
sun rises to the occasion, yet
Winter's witchery
Keeps Spring daffodil at bay.
All power all motive
center on the unwelcome intruder
hitching a ride with every
wailing ambulance.
No fairy princess
bringing back the crown,
only a vagabond with
no compassion, no resolve
to reveal its mysterious origin.
It is its own, imperial, alone.
No use looking for accomplices,
waiting for the Godot of vaccine.
In disenchantment deep and dry
sharp fear and thinning patience
re-open an old debate
on virtues of long sleep, and the depth of recession.
The maple leaf of autumn is now crisp crimson,
shortly ere sun-bronzed skin simmered lumened
I indulge with the saddened left behind to wither,
these not listful ears awaiting beckoning me hither
Hours freeze, minutes in tow, the world halts,
when pains chronic symptoms claim free of faults
Suspended in time lingering in liminal limbo,
indefinite neglect being its sanctified symbol
Decline is a beginning I politely pick up the pieces,
within my confines the endless summer ceases
As a recurring familiarity in the distant breaches
shadows sweep at dusk attaching as leeches,
feeding on a sueded soul, voiding bruised veins,
hallow numbness in my chest is all that remains
Love weeps salt tears brined with both joy and sorrow,
fasting with false hopes macerating raw tomorrows
Ache tests how much weight my heart can hold,
I’d glide into the dolostone matrix, I’d break the mold
What is shared binds two souls along with betrayal,
and only feeds this fervor, savior this is where I fail
Arrows dart freeing these eyes of debited desire,
through a heart, a flame that had once felt fire,
suffering knows that I and I only hold love blame,
at a time when two accomplices felt the same
A brief breeze during a feverish Roman August
foolish pride thwarted lost, what won, writhes lust,
whys are worn, days don’t pass, nights don’t end
Sextilis its name should’ve kept, allotting to transcend,
moods madness ‘neath moon’s tortuous tattletale’s
of September’s blighted face flurrying gust strewn gales
I now stand in a place of my own crowned in pearled onyx,
reborn upon the highest thrown, I drink fortitude’s tonic,
'till September’s sapphire emanates from melancholia,
here you come again, shattered dreams laden with insomnia
I ask forgiveness of the late Leonard Cohen, the author of the original verse, from 1984
“No-bid White House contract awarded for ballroom construction to tune of $500M”
Dance me to the ballroom with the flood lights burning bright
Dance me through the courts they're waging one unending fight
Half a billion dollars and it’s all to make a thump
Dance me to the end of Trump
Dance me to the end of Trump
Oh, let me see the beauty when accomplices are in jail
Let me see the stooges when the half is out on bail
Show corruption to us no one knows the limits of
Oh, dance us to the tune above
Dance us to the tune above
Dance him to his vanity and arrogance hard-on
Dance Don very tenderly, he can’t dance very long
When, full of himself he falls asleep with cameras above
Show us the man we used to love
Show us who we used to love
Lost the war that couldn’t be lost to evil psychopaths
Mess iconic Lincoln pool to public’s howling laughs
Aiming for his place in books, with crown to be worn
Friends and neighbors, treat them all with open stubborn scorn
Something we should mourn
Dance me through the times, so I no longer feel deceived
Leave behind the bubbling cauldron, not to be aggrieved
All that pomp and circumstance is just to make a thump
Dance me to the end of Trump
Dance me to the end of Trump
30 June 2026
Happy New Year
Be not pugnacious accomplices unwilling
To ring in the New Year with festive greetings?
Open hearts freely, and air out old grievances.
Welcome spontaneity with forgiveness.
And seek solace with jovial acquaintances,
Reaffirming reliance in alliances.
Time is a human condition of realism,
Involving biological magnetism.
Were this enlivened fest to last forever,
How bright the outlook for future endeavours?
How flat the path to higher expectations
With friendship extended in merry convention?
There, in the midst, with an imparting party cheer,
A kiss on my love’s lips, and “Happy New Year!”
Fell upon thorns of life and bled, bled from absence of teachings I was never without. Watched my life crumbled before my expectations. Sighing with pain, my last strength strangled out of me, by demands I have never set presence into. Dragging empty coffins of what once resided in me, to a grave dug without my concern. Life blind folds me, leading me into hostility, with chains of force, I surrender my whole, a whole ain't certain if I ever had.
So harsh, my lungs collapses before I breath my last breath. So bad, solo my strive requires me, even birth denied me accomplices, its only my mothers womb that shed my safety. Earth gnawed my fragile bones, ever my inception, everyday I walk and got stabbed and pierced by my own bones spitting, from life's mouth. Cry a voiceless cry, yell to God even in my dreams, still wake everyday and earth flames continues to devour my hope.
Deceived by my naive childhood mentality, how well was I to know when only what I wished for, was to dance in the rain, I mean lie down on my back while I count stars till morning curtains unveiled, less I knew for I brought dancing shoes but life presented a battlefield, how fair is unfair when I die so unfair in an unfair circumstance. Not today, for I'm yet to germinate, yet to live, I mean rise, for I'm a seed with all potentials, life is my ploughing field, I a child of woman.
Born into life, while embraced life with both palms, my palms dazzled with worth, worth waiting for. This universe provoke my being, less evoked my renaissance, life is yet to suffer my purpose. These scars, few broken limbs and split libs, are yet to reign magnitudes, for the multitudes, that, as I lodge in my vengeance rifle, my story begins, I a child of woman.
#Poetic_Ink
Complicit in our nightly rendezvouses
The moon and stars, my heart's accomplices
Clandestine lovers take celestial cues
As we fulfill the soft night's promises
Conspiring with my heart, the when and where
We meet in places only they can know
Reflecting from blue eyes and golden hair
They greet my heart and lend their heav'nly glow
And then in silence watching from above
Seducing with romantic ambience
They blink and blush as you and I make love
Two star crossed fools locked in our heart's response
The moon and stars bring nightly fantasies
For passing ships that sail on starry seas
December 13 2016
by Daniel Turner
Rendez/vous (voo), vouses (vuz)
I ponder
throw away
my ancient
machine
of writing...
Rumple
the papers,
accomplices
of mine
tare ...
I even
stop
writing...!
but how :?
the words
pass by
my head
as models
on the catwalks ...
demanding attention!
I desire on going
complete blind...
(I perceive poorly!),
not to assimilate anymore
colors, paintings ...!
but my mind
have secret files
containing
all beauties
of the world !
I stopped eating...
Never
I was hungry ...
I stopped drinking,
I saw myself free
from headquarters ...
I am further
healthy than
before...
My literally hunger
rose ...!
nor devouring
mountain ranges of ideas
going hungry
of verses ...
nor drinking
an amazon
of words,
satisfy my my
hungriness for poetry ...!
Twas the night before Christmas, when peace and good will
Swept over a snow-covered land, bright and still.
Then, crash! In the kitchen a clatter was heard
Some scoundrel had stolen the Michaelmas bird!
A series of paw prints left no room for doubt
His dog bed lay empty -the verdict was out!
A trail of pork sausages strewn on the ground
Led up to a shed where the culprit was found.
And other accomplices so it would seem
Had followed the scent of his dastardly scheme-
Tails wagging like metronomes set at full speed
Tongues dripping, ears twitching, eyes brimming with greed,
A circle of canines, a dozen at least
Had gathered to sample this succulent feast.
In central position, the trophy in place
With regal composure, a smile on his face,
No hint of contrition, no whimper of shame
There sat our prize turkey and thieving Great Dane!
He learned a tough lesson that bleak Christmas Eve,
A four-legged friend is not meant to deceive.
And slinking home later, with nowhere to hide,
He spent a cold night in the dog-house outside!
26.11.19
The Night Before 2 Poetry Contest sponsored by Joseph May