Long Alexander Poems
Long Alexander Poems. Below are the most popular long Alexander by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Alexander poems by poem length and keyword.
pope-ONE DAY AT A TIME
Sad is the heart so full of care
Of tomorrow's what will,will be,
Upon his sleeve,all life does wear,
For all to see
Cast down,choking with eyes that blear
No words can comfort or make free,
Thought frozen in yesterday's fear,
That none can see.
inspired by Mt 6:25-34
A 'pope' is a quatrain form of 3 lines of 8 syllables and 1 line of 4 (offset)with a rhyming scheme of a,b,a.b and is labelled such after the English poet,Alexander Pope(1688-1744)
His poem Solitude in which he imitates Abraham Crawley and for which he was indebted to Horace is the inspiration for this form.
My version can be a single quatrain or double or a sequence of stanzas as in Pope's example.
Nothing but a miracle will bring you back to me now.
You said that,
I said I'll change, But I don't know how.
My life is at a crossroads,
Trying to stay straight,
Keep my focus now.
Bending round this corner,
Searching for your love,
I longer,
...Forever...
When my heart calls to you,
Do you hear it calling?
...Tell me?
All the things I did, I'm sorry
...forever, Tell me?
That you'll take me back,
I've changed my ways,
For now and forever.
Tell me,
Cause I can't stand to lose,
All you had to offer,
And when I find a miracle,
I'll send it to you in an instant now,
The angels will deliver,
I hope your heart can open somehow?
And when I feel the rain is gone,
The crimson light will shine on me for now,
So take me back, I beg, I ask?
Bring me back to life somehow.
So tell me...
That you'll take me back,
I'll love you now and forever,
And tell me...
You'll forgive my past,
And we'll move onward together.
So tell me...
Please come back to me,
I hope these words are yours forever.
Please tell me...?
When finally that magic fell,
A sparkling dust held over us together,
Uniting us as the one,
My dreams came true,
You came back too.
I will never let you down,
Never again, it's my promise now,
I hope I am the miracle,
You're searching for,
I'm searching too.
So tell me...
That we'll always be together,
Grey and old.
And tell me...
If my heart tires,
Or my love gets too cold.
So tell me...
This chance you took was yours,
Forever so bold.
So tell me,
I'll be yours forever,
To claim and to hold,
...nothing but a miracle...
Graham Alexander Devenish
A white and silver marbleized ceramic jar,
I found in an abandoned car...
I saw a similar one at a bazaar,
it belonged to Alexander, the Czar.
I asked the slim and friendly Russian lady,
" How much is that jar? "
" Ten dollars, my dear! "
Wasn't I excited to have bought History?
She wrapped it twice in old newspaper,
and put in a brown shoebox saying,
" Be careful with it...it's a treasure! "
I took it from her hands and started running.
Which one of the two ceramic jars was the original:
the one that I had found in that car,
or the one I had bought at the bazaar?
One couldn't tell the difference between the two at all.
I never told anyone, I kept the secret to myself...
I displayed them as heirlooms on the book shelf,
staring at them, wishing to find out the authentic one;
I refused to sell them, because I adored the image of the Czar.
Pretty Woman
Oh, pretty woman
You have caught my eye
On a business trip
And need a tour guide
With beauty and wit
Week rendezvous
Evening delight
Dining, fine wine,
Falling in love
We're from two
Different
Worlds dear, but
Say you'll
Stay with
Me
1/6/2016
Diminished Hexaverse
Poetry Contest: Favorite Movie
Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
Pretty Woman is a 1990 American romantic comedy film set in Los Angeles.
A man in a legal but hurtful business needs an escort for some social events, and hires a beautiful prostitute he meets... only to fall in love.
Director: Garry Marshall
Writer: J.F. Lawton
Stars: Richard Gere, Julia Roberts, Jason Alexander
I stayed on this famous island for a little while,
fortress, prison and avant-garde Bonaparte style.
Rigged charm with antiquities slow train,
governors constitution keeping royal patriots vain.
200 years after the mysterious death of the king,
at his grave, I was wondering, ‘You poor little thing’.
Another sort of great Alexander that loves to conquer,
taken on the establishments in crisis that ponder.
Ideals of restless doomed heroes celebrated,
taken war to higher constitution elevated.
St. Helena the wife of Emperor Constantine,
went on to pilgrimage to find the sacred terrain.
Building the church of the Holy Sepulchre,
the place of Christ crucifixions culture.
Priestess of Avalon and patron saint of discoveries,
island of sacred through Christ self recoveries.
Total sovereignty and its dying destiny,
luring fatal admirations penalty.
No escaping from repeating history.
Simon says: Thirteen’s my lucky number.
Thirteen years ago, I took dad’s money
and bargained with Time to make my name known.
Fate nudged its elbow into my circuit.
Penske luck and talent helped carry me.
I have had the best mentors in the world
who helped me master the intricacies
of maneuvering oval victories.
Last Sunday, no one wanted that wreath more,
the milk had my name on it from the start.
My best chance to kiss the bricks in Indy,
gotta get in rhythm, driving success.
Thirteen laps to go; green lights on again,
Alex and I changed the lead five more times.
Two tenths of a second, first 'cross the line;
Simon Pagenaud wins the Five Hundred.
If thirteen more (or less) inches had been on the track?
Would that have doubled my win time (half-a-second) or
would Alexander Rossi have taken the title?
No, Fate and Time got it right - drivers of victory.
May 28, 2019
Julia Ward's contest: Driver of Victory
Simon Pagenaud (Padj' en no)
METAPHYSICAL MOMENTS
Upon my knee I come to thee
with my concern,to you,this plea
Chorus-I heard you speak,and so I wait
until my heart,with you relate
verse-so many times I ask and ask
inadequate to do this task
chorus-I know,I know,I hear your call
yet still hold back,frightened to fall
verse-at last I see and know within
strengthened by you,I can begin
chorus-A simple verse,from you above
to show to others Jesus love
after Robert Herrick TO GOD
Endwell me Lord,each day
be now my tongue,in all I say;
Endwell my all,from deep to deep
from dayspring,'til I sleep
after john keble's famous verse
Fill me once more,Holy Spirit to know,
Move me ,inside,you love to show,
Quieten my heart,now to play
Without rehearsal,on life's stage each phrase to say.
Speak,speak by thought,picture,word or deed,
Then in my weakness,your strength feed:
O teach my tomgue to quiet be,
Until you prompt,and all I say,is all of thee.
This double quatrain was inspired by
Abraham Cowley's (1618-67) 'Hymn to Light'
Make me O Lord your witness each day
teach my tongue, quieten my heart
open mine ears, to all, to me,you say
guide my eyes,when I see in part;
and then help others ,through these lips
to be blessed,toe to fingertip
Quatrain after Edward Taylor the first American poet
Sad is the heart so full of care
Of tomorrow's what will,will be,
Upon his sleeve,all life does wear,
For all to see
Cast down,choking with eyes that blear
No words can comfort or make free,
Thought frozen in yesterday's fear,
That none can see.
After Alexander Pope
Listen to me recite these Metaphysicals on youtube ichthyschiro
To err is human; to forgive, divine
1. Shared virtues be are friends eternal
2. A futile step is a worthless journey
3. In a public forum, liberty is oft impugned
4. Evil is often found at the end of a long leash
5. Prepare for war whenever peace is at hand
6. Vice is a companion of the weak
7. Opportunity is a constant to closed doors
8. Whenever there is light, shadows manifest itself
9. One must first be in the dark, to see the light
10. Fairytales are embellished untruths
11. An unscripted life is a birthright of imagination
12. An encrypted mind is well-rehearsed
13. The unimaginative is a sharp spoon
14. Lethargy is a reason for windows
15. Spare the rod and raise yourself
2020 February 03
Famous poetic lines 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
"To err is human; to forgive, divine" - Alexander Pope
Hakim. The Gatekeeper from Esagila.
(A lone voice whispers)
In ancient Babylon,
I once stood alone and mixed fire
Iron and clay
All day
Creating a spell
To entice my only light to come my way
Sent merchandise of gold and silver
To her,
The Pythoness of Endor
Hidden in dark woods
Over the deepest of rivers
Bundles of finest fresh linens and purple silk
To satisfy her and her ilk
Citron wood and every kind of object
I could ever find
Made of white ivory and black marble
Whenever I could
No matter the expense
Incense sticks
And scented Egyptian
Candlesticks
Made of expensive Frankincense
Delicious crates of red wine
Bamboo baskets filled with white flour and yellow wheat
Fields of fat cattle and herds of baying sheep
Priceless trained horses and golden inlaid chariots
New slaves of broken souls
Lascivious ladies and ravenous men
To do her bidding
Even acts of depravity
Linked to the forbidden
For the fruit of my soul
And to be joined to her again
A bright light
I once saw
On a seemingly endless night
But in the year 323
When my leader
Alexander the Great
At only 32
Died and was eternally set free
In the opulent palace of Nebuchadnezzar
She
The Lady of the Wild Woods
The Pythoness of Endor
Cursed me to chase her
Forever
The Queen
I once conjured by fire
Iron and clay
So today
In the 21st century
Her I still chase
Since eternal life
Is now my only penitentiary
My only great living version
Of Babylon of Old
When I desired to sire
A queen, I once met
Dancing
The Raqs Sharqi
So fiercely
That her raw beauty
I can never forget
Adorned in soft crimson and glittering purple linen
Clad in silver
Wearing gold and shining diamond stone earrings
Reborn into the likes of
Badiaa Masabni
It's why I still chase her
If I could confess
For underneath
Beneath all things linked to trying to achieve immortal strength
It's why now
To seek her out
Once more
I always choose to break free
From the external grip
Of The Valley of Death
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Contest: The Pensive Poet
Sponsor: Constance La France
"While pensive poets painful vigils keep,
Sleepless themselves, to give their readers sleep"
~ Alexander Pope
They call her a "pensive poet",
She sits there lost in thought,
Her wistful silence does show it,
How with worries she's fraught;
When she sits beside that window
With a forgotten drink,
They know she'll soon be in limbo,
Time to think, time to ink;
She sits there writing and writing,
Pages are shortly filled,
With her Muse and words, she's fighting,
Her notions are soon quilled;
Her mind is constantly running,
At night, sleep eludes her,
Metaphors, rhyming and punning,
These are what makes her stir;
She gives voice to her painful past,
Her poems hold her tears,
The silent wisdom she's amassed,
All penned down o'er the years;
Reclusive, she prefers echoes
from the past she's fighting,
She pens of Edenic meadows,
Or grief unexciting;
Pondering over her gone life,
She writes of her deep faith,
Her memories linger through strife,
Her musings like a wraith;
One with Nature, she's always calm,
Writing her cares away,
Inking poetry is her balm,
Keeps her alive each day;
Inscribing her deep impressions,
She sits there in Zen mode,
Her verses are her expressions,
Where her emotion's sowed;
Ruminating in solitude,
She composes her dreams,
She's in "the Pensive Poet" mood,
The "Maiden of Moonbeams".