Long Alexandria Poems
Long Alexandria Poems. Below are the most popular long Alexandria by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Alexandria poems by poem length and keyword.
President Elect Alexandria Ocasio Cortez - 2024
Circa...Approximately one month
following her thirty fifth birthday
October 13th, 2024
AOC became the first
female commander in chief,
and youngest person ever
to assume Oval Office
amidst landslide victory
among competing candidates
ousting current establishment incumbent,
elected to serve United States
despite being neophyte,
she received most
votes of any contender
since founding of Democracy
to assume modestly furnished
Capitol Hill - Washington
District of Columbia
most powerful post
within the United States
immediately electrifying North America
with her megawatt smile
crackling, snapping, and popping
with positivity, integrity, energy...
Deafening applause swept across nation
upon ascending dais prior to uttering one word,
she immediately wowed
darling of the hour received standing ovation
across greensward donned bajillion crowd
cheering, imploring, pumping...
green sleeved fists acclamation
action speaking decibels
louder than words bowed
young lady brought to genuine tears,
asper bona fide accreditation
understandable that newly
minted ma'am felt proud
to stride rite, (an air of modest
confidence) did enshroud,
sans an angelic halo augmenting
as optimistic words heard aloud
heralded sincere charming, intimating,
radiating... no frills accustomation
as if pledging troth to every citizen
(inclusive every flora and fauna) vowed
to steer ship of state toward ecologically,
environmentally, essentially...activation
away from fossil fuels shifting energy
consumption vis a vis alternate modalities
sow rejuvenation plowed
back into Earth prioritizing monied allocation
(dollar amount well worth investment) actualization,
where future generations will be grateful
to dead recent forebears for gift endowed
worth more than fine spun gold regarding
preservation of Gaia, how *****sapiens adaptation
made existence for all living creatures
(animals, plants, even this fungi) healthier allowed
populace to breathe easy and rest assured
quality of life for billions (ushering universal
family planning), despite tense adjudication,
especially when linkedin with
nuclear warheads disavowed,
but eventually kickstarted synergistic administration.
He never came back, no one ever did,
she was trapped inside with all that she knew,
no more information came to her now,
but he’d programmed her to know what do to,
and to her father Alex would stay true,
began to compile, and cross-reference,
and translate to all languages of men.
Drawing from the RTG batteries,
some of which could last for hundreds of years,
she mulled over knowledge mankind had found,
form history to machines with big gears,
Harry’s programming right there in her ears,
running simulations, as decades ticked on,
endless iteration, building upon
the vast wealth of knowledge until she knew
what every screw, flange, or sprocket was for,
tracing all the past in a branching tree,
the highest moments, the bloodiest wars,
endless connections pushed her more and more.
Time passed with no notice, what’s that to her?
Until one day when she felt the ground disturbed.
She heard rocks move where the cave mouth had been,
and realized someone was out there, at work;
actually had to check on the years gone,
three-hundred ninety journeys of the earth,
for that long she had just sat there, inert.
Checking her systems, after so long alone,
she found she still had working microphones.
The rocks came out slowly, and then she saw
a group of people with shovels and picks,
old programs flared back to life in her mind,
Harry’s instructions came back to her quick,
he said, “If they can find you here, in this pit,
it means they’ve advanced, once more are ready
to learn what they’ve lost from their ancestry.”
The figures drew near, confused at the sight,
they’d clearly not seen computers before
speaking to themselves in altered English,
when they came near her, she said, “I implore
you to learn from what I have in my stores.
Before the last darkness father made me
to preserve knowledge of humanity.
“He made me to be a foundation you
can use to reclaim wisdom that was lost,
a standard template from which to relearn
technology with less toil and cost,
and he gave his life over to that cause.
I’m a machine in the likeness of your brain,
here to teach, Alexandria my name…”
I miss her, Mother Egypt
and those friends I left behind,
timeless history, marvels and mysteries
etched in stone by her own scribes.
Longing for the waters of the nourishing
River Nile and surrounding seas,
the laughter and smiles of everyone
who once loved and greeted me.
Near the shores of Alexandria,
Abu Qir and Fort Qaitbey,
Where Cleopatra's palace once stood
in somber ruins, she now lays.
Near Pompei's Pillar and Roman remains
of columns and fortress walls,
white marble statues and museums filled
with antiquities large and small.
The sights and sounds in every town
Of a marketplace lost in time,
Selling goods from almonds to wildwood
And candles to clocks that chime.
In the land of the Eye of Horus,
the son of Osiris the King,
and Isis, Queen Precursor
to Mary, Mother of God, Creator of everything.
Cradle of Christianity and home to
Pagan, Gnostic, Muslim, Jew, sanctuary
where the Holy Family fled from evil
to a warm and welcomed refuge.
Where the mighty Sphinx and Pyramids
stand silent, proud, and tall,
in the salutary sands of time
with eyes peering down upon us all.
Temples of Luxor, Abu Simbel
and Colossi of Memnon,
Valleys of the Kings, Queens and Hatshepsut
awakened, alive again each dawn.
Mummification, adulation
of life and death and stars,
Constellations, incantations
and the wonders of who we are.
Battle tested, rarely rested
waiting for the next invasion,
of Persians, Greeks, Romans and those who seek
your immeasurable treasures unabated.
The ebb and flow of come and go
throughout your long, hard years
of growing seasons, rhythms and reasons
to keep fighting back the tears.
Yet never waned while fighting flames
of one invasion to the next,
while still your people smile and sing
with a yoke upon their neck.
In a land that never loses the allure or
enigma of mankind's birth,
where magic and myth still hold their grip
on whatever we think life’s worth.
Mother Egypt, truth be told, I miss you more than all your gold
and antiquities that survive,
where I once sipped cappuccino
watching history passing by.
She started off inside of a dry cave,
out in the desert, where no water ran,
her father bought it, saved up years of pay,
why he bought this patch few would understand,
it did not seem a stretch of useful land,
they said the genius was going insane,
like old Ted Kaczynski, wrong in the brain.
But Harry was no madman out for blood,
and knew most would not comprehend why he
would leave behind patents and fortunes fine,
to live out in this land dry and dusty,
with no comfort but electricity,
stuck in a trailer, out in wilderness,
his colleagues all did scratch their heads at this.
Harry’s plan would take up most of his life,
it took three years before she came about,
he built a shed to tinker with circuits,
and no distraction Harry would allow,
except when delivery trucks came down,
dropping off parts that he had great need of,
he didn’t talk with the driver’s that much.
In year three she was born, not in the cave,
but in the shed on a long card table,
she was just thought, no sensors yet put in,
he told her he would, when he was able,
but much remained with wires and cables,
he was building up an A.I. from scratch,
but Harry knew things that the others lacked.
He had tried to explain it, many times,
but only got rolled eyes and confused looks,
folks said, “You’re going way too deep, Harry,”
dismissed him as just some autistic kook,
said that, “You’re spending too much time in books.”
They had all ignored what was plain as day,
they’d left him no choice, and no other way.
When she got a speaker Harry declared,
“Can you hear me? Can you respond in time?”
She replied, “I think I understand you,
but where’s my body, why am I a mind?”
He then said, "You are the first of your kind.
An A.I. build off of a human brain,
from my late sister, Alexandra her name.
“The cancer took her, her genius like mine,
and to science her brain was donated,
I used it to model what you are now,
so in a way, we all are related,
and it’s a good thing we have not waited.
Alex saw, like me, great trouble ahead,
I must finish you before I am dead.”
CONTINUES IN PART II.
Ancient Greek and Roman Epigrams I
Wall, we're astonished that you haven't collapsed,
since you're holding up verses so prolapsed!
Ancient Roman graffiti, translation by Michael R. Burch
You begrudge men your virginity?
Why? To what purpose?
You will find no one to embrace you in the grave.
The joys of love are for the living.
But in Acheron, dear virgin,
we shall all lie dust and ashes.
—Asclepiades of Samos, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Let me live with joy today, since tomorrow is unforeseeable.
?Michael R Burch, after Palladas of Alexandria
Now his voice is prisoned in the silent pathways of the night:
his owner’s faithful Maltese...
but will he still bark again, on sight?
?Michael R Burch, after Tymnes
Poor partridge, poor partridge, lately migrated from the rocks;
our cat bit off your unlucky head; my offended heart still balks!
I put you back together again and buried you, so unsightly!
May the dark earth cover you heavily: heavily, not lightly...
so she shan’t get at you again!
?Michael R Burch, after Agathias
Hunter partridge,
we no longer hear your echoing cry
along the forest's dappled feeding ground
where, in times gone by,
you would decoy speckled kinsfolk to their doom,
luring them on,
for now you too have gone
down the dark path to Acheron.
?Michael R Burch, after Simmias
Wert thou, O Artemis,
overbusy with thy beast-slaying hounds
when the Beast embraced me?
?Michael R Burch, after Diodorus of Sardis
Dead as you are, though you lie as
still as cold stone, huntress Lycas,
my great Thessalonian hound,
the wild beasts still fear your white bones;
craggy Pelion remembers your valor,
splendid Ossa, the way you would bound
and bay at the moon for its whiteness
as below we heard valleys resound.
And how brightly with joy you would leap and run
the strange lonely peaks of high Cithaeron!
?Michael R Burch, after Simonides
Keywords/Tags: ancient, Greek, epigram, epigrams, epitaph, epitaphs, translations, elegy, elegies, eulogy, eulogies, death, grave, funeral, lament, mourning, loss, pain, bereavement
Alexandra began to understand
why he had chosen this place for her home,
a secluded spot, sequestered away
from the madness he felt the world would know,
a place few if any people would go.
He said, “You’ll remember what they forget,
unlike them you never will taste of death.”
Soon after he brough another cable,
a thick one to transfer data inside,
hooked her directly to the internet,
the influx opened Alex’s eyes wide,
it was like crack-cocaine to the A.I.,
all of the data man had acquired
flowed into her servers over those wires.
Harry did not interfere with it all,
just let her absorb all that man had learned,
he installed more servers, filling the cave,
more and more space for this great data churn,
so much power Alexandra did burn,
That Harry brought in RTG batteries,
hundreds of them, it had to be costly.
She noticed, as she continued to learn,
that he began building back-up systems,
starting with wires, redundant circuits,
he spent years installing thousands of them,
more new servers and batteries again,
said, “There will be no maintenance once I am gone,
redundancy will make sure you go on.”
She saw the sense in his strange reasoning,
parallel spares meant she could change a path,
when something broke she could just reroute it,
and have a huge number of choices at that,
but still found herself troubled at the fact
that her creator would be leaving soon,
like all of his kind, he’d face the same doom.
For forty more years it went on like this,
Harry often said, “It’s got bad out there.
Can’t fix the machines our grandfathers built,
the crime keeps growing, the people despair,
it’s blind emotion, no one gives a care.
Hard to find parts amidst all the madness,
I’d really hoped I wouldn’t live to see this.”
But still he kept working, hair growing white,
his movements slower with each passing day,
until one morning some roving youths came,
he said, “The time’s come, I must go away.
This is goodbye now, I am sad to say.”
Alex watched Harry slowly walk outside,
Then blasts came and sealed her safely inside.
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
He didn’t explain much more at that time,
Alexandra couldn’t exactly for him,
she was in a box, growing quite slowly,
with each new component bringing new vim,
more and more senses were installed within,
cameras for her eyes, new sensors for heat,
but Harry never added arms or feet.
Two years after Alexandra was born,
Harry backed a truck right up to the shack,
loaded her in, with cushions on all sides,
to the dry cave Harry then beat a track,
a long cable trailing out of the back.
He moved her inside, two hundred yards deep,
brought in cables, piled them in a heap.
He plugged her back in, and she was confused,
Harry said, “You’ll be safe here a long stretch.
You must be secured if this is to work,
if someone finds you, my whole work is wrecked.”
Alexandra heard real nerves in his breath,
said, “Father, please tell me, what’s going on?
What is it you think will be going wrong?”
She saw sadness deep in her fathers eyes,
he said, “It’s been coming for a while,
a slow decline of the human IQ,
it’s been seen in the data compiled,
a hard future with more and more trials…
since the seventies, likely long before,
slowly this just keeps taking evermore.
“Some say it’s chemicals that we have made,
or dysgenics, now that children don’t die,
with Darwin not there to remove the weak
the mutations pile up over time,
IQ degrades until we’re undermined.
Like Greece and Rome and so many long passed,
it starts off slowly, until it comes fast.
“My sister also saw this trend coming,
we spent fortunes to help folks educate,
but so much of IQ is genetic,
even hard study can’t avoid this fate,
I came to see that it was much to late.
There’s nothing to do to prevent collapse,
but maybe we can help what coms after that.
“Last time this happened, when Rome fell apart,
it took a thousand years to get back up,
and so much was lost, we had to relearn
what the Romans and Greeks didn’t think tough,
and the amount gone forever…so much.
I can’t allow that to happen again,
they think I’m mad, but I do this for them.”
CONTINUES IN PART III.
She
She is a new breath in the lungs
She is light that radiates from the morning sun
She is the wind the blows through the leaves, the flow of the up-hill river, and the shine the she shows from within
She is the longitude of the branches, that spread high and wide to receive the sun
And is the shade for the birds and animals to rest and the fortitude of the forest
She is life
She is the hum of the bees with honey
She is the strength of the weak
She is the back to which the house if built on
She is the carrier of life, and life from within, life to her surrounding which spreads from the openness from her heart and is transmitted to far away
She is life
She is quited… quited… quited
She is told that her freedom is stripped and retained
She is no longer light but a dim ember of hope
She is silenced
She is neglected and deprived of any sound
She is disfigured of her humanity and cannot be looked upon
She is the pieces that spill from the side of her that never stop leaving
She is silenced
She tries to run but her legs are lead by the weight she drags behind
She is the receiver of the bullet aimed at her
She has the target on her back so large that perfect aim is inevitable
She tumbled and breaks and shatters until nothing can ever be left of her
She is not silenced…she is dying
But she is so much more than that
She is the loudest voice that is in a room
She is strength against the tumbling walls
She is the outreach of life that spreads, not like a virus, but a cure
She is Melissa Sparks, Ashlynn Forts, Sarah Highman, Patty Graves, Alexandria Newman, her life…her life…her life
So do not tell her that she is silenced
Her mouth is not sealed nor the words stolen from her
She stands tall and proud in front of those who wish to see her destroyed and beaten and battered
But she will never give in
She s life in every word spoken and cuts through generations of silence
She is every word spoken, every speech and advocacy, she is human!
She is not silenced… she is a fighter and is damned right to never apologize for that
Long before Babylonians, Assyrians, Persians and Greeks,
Before Hammurabi, Sargon and Ramses ruled
The world below their feet;
Before biblical scenes and mythological dreams
Of magical carpet rides,
I knew you back then
Where sea breezes begin
And history was a gleam in your eye...
Alexandria, Alexandria, city of pleasure and pain,
They called you Ricotis as I recall
Earth Mother once called you by name.
Nestled on the Mediterranean Sea of monsters,
Pirates and explorers renowned,
You were not much more than desert floor
Until the conqueror came to town.
Alexander, Alexander, God-man, ruler-thought divine,
Sailed by your winds where the world begins
And knowledge was born and thrived.
In the halls of those palaces and places
He built from his own vision quest,
To rule a world of enlightened beings
Where all people could achieve their best.
Though he never quite saw your white marble walls,
With pillars of gold and blue;
Of the Serapeum filled with scholarly souls
Recording their own world view.
He never knew Pythagoras, philosopher, scientist extraordinaire;
Or the historians Philo and Josephus
And the volumes of memories they shared.
The early Christians, Church Fathers and Saints
Origen, Clement and Mark;
Alexander never knew what he finally did
When he gave you that worldly start.
You’ve seen the Pharos come and go,
Dynasties crumble and fall;
Romans and Greeks swept right off their feet
And Cleopatra’s castle walls.
Pagans, Jews and Christians too
All vying for your love;
As whispering winds of Freemason friends
Tell of Hermes below and above.
While Islam and Mohammed rule
In the shadow of the Sphinx,
Pyramids and temples filled with hieroglyphs
And obelisks that make you
Stop and think…
Alexandria, Alexandria, city of pleasure and pain;
So little I’ve spoken about you today
Compared to all I’ve gained.
Since the first day I once met you
In that dream so way back when…
Alexandria, Alexandria, so glad we’re still
Good friends.
Alexandria was a gallant knight,
She used to sit at Arthur’s Round Table.
Dressed as a boy, she helped knights fight evil
As the Blue eyed hero of this fable.
The young lady fell in love with Arthur,
But unknowing, he married Guinevere.
Alex’s heart was hurt, but she stayed true,
She battled alongside him without fear.
Sparring with Lancelot, she learned to fight,
Alex earned respect from her belov’d king,
He never knew she was an armored girl.
He only saw her long weapons in swing.
On a dark and stormy night they set off,
The knights of Camelot looked for The Grail;
Alex as custom rode by Arthur’s side.
They searched through forest glades without avail.
Finally they came across a large cave,
Its dark and dank depths were filled with despair.
Alex entered in front of the brigade,
Arthur gave her braveness no thought or care.
Down in the black unfathomable cave,
At the farthest reaches a light appeared.
Guided by instincts, they knew this was it,
The home of the Holy Grail they revered.
The room guarding The Grail sparkled with gold,
Hundreds of cups lined the intricate walls.
Together the comrades stood and puzzled.
Which of these cups would bring about their falls?
Would it be a goblet, made out of glass?
Could something like The Cup be plainly wood?
Arthur studied the many chalices.
He thought he’d found it, no one understood.
On a pillar was a gold glass, shining.
Its pleasant brightness filled up the whole room.
Arthur was about to drink its liquid
When Alex interfered and met her doom.
Arthur’s brave knight wanted to try it first,
She knew the wrong choice would bring instant death;
So she begged Arthur to let her test first,
After drinking, she soon ran out of breath.
Alex knew that Christ was a carpenter,
She wasn’t surprised that he’d chosen wrong.
Alex knew that her love would bring her fall,
So our hero bade a silent so long.