Long Amass Poems

Long Amass Poems. Below are the most popular long Amass by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Amass poems by poem length and keyword.


What the End Like

So the morning star stood against the heavens, 
Then Jehovah sent mighty angels to battle against 
Lucifer, the devil.
Lucifer fought with gangsters but lost;
Being haul down to earth losing a side wing:
Father of all lies, turn humanity against Jehovah,
The creator of all things that was; 
That is and that someday may be.
Humanity knew sin and fell short to the glory of God:
His daily pace was directed by the footprint of the 
wicked one.
God repented over humanity, but pitied the cause of 
change:
Jehovah made his word as flesh among humanity, 
But wickedness of men draged the lamb of the 
world and nailed him to a cross.
Amazingly, Jehovah resurrected Jesus Christ from 
the grave and 
Quickened and empowered the left eleven to go out 
there and preach the gospel.
Sorrowful persecution and tribulation followed the 
disciples till their dying day:
Now the walk hasn’t change,
 But the devil has implemented a strategy by music 
To lure and own as many as he could:
Music has come to drive immorality through the 
heart and mind of many,
Negatively, seducing the streets; changing money 
for fornication and fame.
This shall slowly pervade lands upon lands until it 
covered the entire world.
And the Bible been out of sight and mind, but, upon 
the hearts of the elects; 
Seen churches turned to shopping malls and club 
houses.
These times the dragon has been held in the world;
Bringing oneness among the people, and every 
culture:
 A new form of currency in a form of a mark;
Those that should accept would receive every 
necessity available,
But those that should rise against would be even 
robbed of the little they own.
Wickedness would amass as God Almighty might 
for a while part with humanity.
You could name it a world of mammon.
Kirk of Satan could be found everywhere:
Lovers of CHRIST JESUS,
 Getting persecutions through the test of time;
Then at a day untold, CHRIST JESUS would break 
from the firmament,
When the sky darkened; 
Those with the beast mark (tattoo) would be 
exposing by the great light; 
The sea would vomit (spiritually) every life in it. 
There would be no place for them to hide.
They may cut themselves with blades and stones, 
wishing to escape the wrath of God.
Judgment for the righteous would be honor but for 
the wicked shame.
© Clay More  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Didactic


If Trump wins rest in peace Mother of Freedom

If Trump wins...rest in peace - Mother of Freedom

Post mortem courtesy 
Doctor Demento yielded 
Lady Liberty lies slain...
videre licet knocked senseless 
from brutal blows upon her crown
simultaneously shouldering existential crisis
triggered nervous breakdown
though rendered mute 
sound of silence doth expound.

Forsooth impeachment hearings 
rendered him immune 
to chastisement, insurrection 
he did foment, blithely 
skirting impairment appertain
blood on hands of
self important president,
though alcohol he doth abstain,
nonetheless permanent drunken stupor
doth wax and wain

finger of guilt
damaging democracy points
to him as chief villain
groomed since... time immemorial
atavistic primate brain
bathed (courtesy Frederick Christ Trump)
buzzfeeding chosen favored heir
go for broke – as a red badge of courage
bankrupt countless times
and pulled out all stops,

viz unbridled thundering, 
espousing philosophy gain
amass wealth, unscrupulous
if necessary where,
might equals right cold play'n
deadly serious game (Life) train
sight squarely and/or roundly
scattered lovely bones
amidst tombstones testimony
incidental secondary fallout main

part and parcel, where legerdemain,
plus art of the deal linkedin
with immeasurable gloating
ego necessary to gain
con fetter writ oligarchy plain
successfully cheating, hocking,
milking, quaffing, and trending,
yielding dynastic rule
trumpeting eternal and carnal
stormy Daniels reign

vaping with wealthy
zealotry (think vain)
at electorate expense
tampering koolaid acid test
courtesy illegals sown GMO grain
colluding when/where possible,
never losing sight regarding
selfish mission to attain
obligatory ideal tyranny
rampantly running roughshod,

no need to explain
writing sleight underhanded profane
antithetical, critical, heretical quatrain
badgering, belittling, besmirching,
bilking, boasting, bragging with disdain
flagrantly flaunting, fleecing,
regarding purported B.S. degree
in economics he did attain
matriculating Wharton School of law,
hmm... methinks he paid

hireling from Ukraine
forever flirting, flouting, and flunking
even basic geography questions
case in point being 
where is Drury Lane
additionally, he ain't 
no literati familiar
storied quasi fiction Citizen Kane.
Form: Rhyme

Celestial Jellyfish

A giant jellyfish was born
emitted from a neutron star
once on a whilom cosmic morn
amidst the stellar seas afar.

With tentacles from arcing crest,
medusa-like it hangs on high
cloudscaped with tendrils manifest
in astral sky of Gemini.

Exploding supernova yore—
whose light reached Earth so long ago
that last ice age was still at fore
and ocean levels then were low

by dint of all the ice around
compared to what they are today,
when history was oral bound
though art in caves was on display—

created nebula we see
dubbed ‘jellyfish’, made of debris
from remnant IC Four Four Three,
five thousand light-years from our spree

upon this tiny whirling world
of Man’s vaingloried destiny,
short-lived mid solar time unfurled,
in what’s to be or not to be.

If traveling at speed of light
it very well might take about
three hundred years of light-wave flight
to go across its width throughout.

The jellyfish on planet here
are oldest multi-organ group
of animals, found far and near
free-swimming often in a troop

that ocean currents might amass
together, and there is a class 
immortal seeming, which can pass,
to prior stage, when foes harass.

In general, umbrella-shaped,
these creatures’ bells have trailing limbs
with stinging cells around them draped
to injure one who too close swims.

Pelagic animals, they dwell
in seas and oceans everywhere,
not all with venom to expel,
plus special senses; further they’re

adept at adaptation’s chain,
with range fantastic; by the way,
they manage well without a brain.
Could we learn from their résumé?

But back to Jellyfish in space,
a pulsar may have formed in blast,
or neutron star at rapid pace
which first burst inward, spinning fast.

The outer layers which caved in
bounced outward in that stellar scheme
of supernova with its spin
begetting radiation beam

that’s sweeping by like lighthouse ray,
perchance a beaconed message from
some bygone beings gone astray
in bleeping beats of warning drum.

Meanwhile on Earth we’re but a guest
to Mother Nature’s knowing eyes
in Goldilocks rare orbit blessed.
How sad that life Man fails to prize!


~ Harley White


* * * * * * * *


Some sources of inspiration were the following…

Article and image ~  What Spawned the Jellyfish Nebula?
Form: Verse

Marvelous Mitzvah Munchkin Minted

Marvelous mitzvah "munchkin" minted

Thy eldest daughter Eden Liat
treasured more'n a pearl
(otherwise known as Rapunzel)...
donated cut hair to charity - you go girl,
ha, whereat your fine brunette locks of love

will be repurposed into wigs for kids,
and perhaps even don kepi
of trumpeting Bullwinkle, his Sciuridae
friend named Rocket J. Squirrel,
and/or his nemesis Natasha Fatale.

Kudos to thee savvy
twenty three plus year old offspring
voluntarily unwittingly hood
amazingly gracefully support
exhausting, flagging, grueling... 
stricken young spirits and bring
joie de vivre during
treatment and convalescence

of challenging treatment ailing,
perhaps hoop fully nipping 
terminal illness in bud
beaten into remission,
whereby family, friends medical staff sing
ode to joy cherishing
nothing short of a blessing.

Said sensible, smart and
stalwart inadvertent mentor,
a splendidly mirthful and mindful lass
yes, tis biased opinion, quite a
truckload of abilities she did amass
even fending bullies who tried to harass
attractive petite proportionate physique
confident smile shown back

courtesy looking glass
and papa cognizant,
how her art of humbleness
helped her succeed as top class
high achiever at Harriton High School,
especially acing rigorous
International Baccalaureate (IB)
(worldwide, nonprofit education program

plus even when just a little girl
attending Belmont Elementary
promise of success,
my feeble accomplishments
"star student" did quickly surpass
with flying colors earned free pass
concomitantly acquiring invisible

magic ring, and carpet made of brass
the latter powered by
Walt Whitman wrought leaves of grass
at University of Pennsylvania
earning stripes as Ivy League graduate
freelance activist while completing
internship linkedin with
University of Southern California.

Spellbound birth father
internally rejoices ta deum,
we knew e'er since Eden Liat
healthy growing fetus within the womb
whip smart progeny
undoubtedly healthy unbridled maturation,
I vicariously exalt storied accomplishments

accrediting and applauding
every iota offspring earned
blood, sweat and tears
created deafening sonic boom,
and where infinitesimal blazing saddle
burned blinding trajectory
catching eminent potential groom.

Hookey Day

HOOKEY DAY

So you went off to school son and what did you learn?
will it make the world better the next time it turns?
No I didn’t go to school ma, I played hooky today
and I learned that it’s time to throw the books away.

I went to the cities and I walked down the streets,
and talked to the graduates where they work and compete.
I looked at the systems that they have contrived
and it’s hard to believe that we’re still alive.

I heard bankers scheming financial plots
to turn all of the haves into have-nots,
to place the whole world under total control
in endless poverty with no hope of parole.

I heard doctors and lawyers speaking in tongues
to patients uncured as the innocent hung.
Big pharma was addicting whole populations
as wall street convulsed in financial elation.

I saw shadows behind men high in power
as the world grew darker hour by hour.
The light at the end of the tunnel seen
was in the hands of an interrogation team.

My thoughts became knots, all tied up in the hype
that the media weaves through the lines of it’s type.
Life was distorted by camera and crews
***** called art and fiction called news.
 

Did you study your lessons and pass all your tests,   
will you use what you learn to become a success?     
I learned that the minds of those studying there               
are molded by evil for tools of despair.                       

They're captains of industry, the corporate select
who ravage the earth and cause human neglect.  
They measure success by raids and attacks—  
and the depth of the blade in society’s back.

They control the planet and technology
that could energize earth, pollution free,
but they profit more from machinery  
that fouls the air, the earth and the sea. 

Go to their schools and you’re taught to agree  
with the policies of the powers that be. 
To aid and abet them in criminal goals 
of pillage and plunder and global control.

To cast aside all conscience and sense
and leave the future to pay the expense.
To covet and hoard, collect and amass
and consume the earth to the last blade of grass. 

These are the men of letters and worth
of corporations destroying the earth.
Go sit with their scholars and sully your brain 
I’ll pass on the classroom and keep myself sane.
Form: Couplet


Spaces I

I am Späces
The poet's muse
And I bring something old 
And something new

The spirit of the word am I 
And I've existed in all places 
And all times
Filling the gaps
The empty spaces in between 
What we say and mean

Recognize my face?
Familiar, the cast of my eye?
Many faces have I
All spaces to fill
And voices too 
The lowest and the high

The light on neck and on my wrist
Like perfume is
Filling up this space
Or maybe a stage light twist
Sweeping these boards
These empty, empty boards
I will more
Filling up this space

All history is a metaphor
Vile word that!
Metaphor
What for?
Yet metaphor it is
An arcing, ranging beam
Upon whose plinth I sit

Poets & priests foretell
The common bond between all things
How the grandest designs are writ
In the meanest things
Patterns repeat, expand, breathe out
Until they are full blown
And then no more
Recede & quite fade into oblivion
Or at least a scale which we note not
And that's my job
The tiniest atom, the galaxy is, if only in model
The same force which makes it and the forest primeval
Makes us too
And therefore is beauty but a reflection of that recognition
A mirror unto ourselves, both fair & fell
Which once was lost

Cities rise and fall, armies amass and disperse
Family fortunes have their uséd patterns too
Each one a metaphor for the other

A children's toy from Russia
Matryosha doll you know so well
Many painted, self-containéd shells
Crack open the large, therein the smaller lies 
Same face, same charming peasant red cheeks
And again & again
There is no heart.
The heart is the pattern itself
And thus are we all but shells

Nay, less than shells, for did you know
Seven times each cell's replaced within your life?
That's seven new bodies -- more or less
More in childhood, fewer with time
The brain less so for thence proceeds the pattern
Each cell has a memory of all its former lives
Tending to which, like a magnet, it will return
Our body's but a beggar's coat
A patchwork hand-me-down
Bound by a silvery thread of life
Or a mere funnel for food and water
Food goes in, serves its seven-year sentence
Released from the cell is expelled
You are pinching earth, water, and a plan
Nothing more

(Continued in Part 2)
Form: Didactic

Premium Member Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving Day

      ~ pretty weird that it is necessary to have one day allocated during the year to give 
thanks to the harvest or anything else we might and should be grateful for during
           the year and I do not suppose that turkeys approve of this pagan feast when we
stuff ourselves with bird flesh digestives condiments from the gravy train of riches

Hallelujah for burgers wine and soft drinks Coca Cola Mc Donald’s Gallo’s Alamos
         on consumption’s battle fields entrenched in modern living praised be the Harvest
Queen the God of Wall Street the Guns and Drones that feed our seeming needs
      the wants of affluence and exploitation the fig leafs of sweet environmental humility

You sow the wind and reap the storm and flatulence and bloated waistlines waste
           lines of reason’s indigestion shed fatty malnourished winds of tempest’s thunder 
Armaggedon in the waking waiting helplessly for paradise at least in our neck of
         the woods the Global North’s power broking houses of doom injustice domination

Far from honouring the beauty the Dominatrix yes mother Gaia is female and 
              should protect ancestral love and kindness from the milk and honey breast of 
feeding body mind and soul and spirit communal comprehension ancient modern or
     just timeless cycles of sustainable responsibility we pilfer rape and pillage desecrate

One day of feasting praising what we otherwise forget lest we remember leaves
              three-hundred and sixty-four periods of moon and sunlight spinning out of all
control and we’re oblivious to the warning signs of plenty erase the gift we should
     pass on to our children lineage progeny now left with massive mess and no Messiah 

Were we more honest we would solemnly acknowledge that what we’re praising
       in hypocrisy and neglected conscience is human depravation the demise of dignity 
loosing the plot the fields and garden from where our harvest needs to prosper 
            would in frank and serious good faith admit that what we garner and amass is 

                 
                                                                 Genocide…

05th November 2016

The Passing Storm

Somewhere on this pretty planet,
	There is a heart made of granite,
Indignation its pulse would take,
	The soul’s machine fear'd trust too fake.

On righteous wings glory’s noose,
	Hangs the head of war’s best muse,
Her eyes befit the worst of times,
	The look, the stare defies all rhymes.

Reaching into forgotten tales,
	History chose armored males,
Dusty tomes on hidden shelves,
	Books in tongues for tiny elves.

Here’s to He who broke the bread,
	A promise too many came instead,
Land so fertile flowers swooned,
	Food to heal the people’s wound.

Abundance wreaks what dreams deny,
	Riches breach thy neighbors cry,
Winds begin like soft whispers pass,
	Fear the tempest that might amass.

No one heard the approaching storm,
	The blind saw not the eyeless worm,
Man’s great cities it came to breed,
	A pathos so hungry it began to feed. 

The poor of mind hailed this time, 
	Its witless soldiers stuck in crime,
But this was no Christian phase,
	Powerful waves, everyone pays.

Morning took hold, the sky was dark,
	The bow was bent and knew its mark,
A book of facts, a thousand lies,
	Verse so deep frozen beauty cries.

With thunder’s yoke rains wash took hold,
	On tides ebbed out went all once old,
Upon spring flowers hope took turn, 
	Lime and ashes make death’s love yearn.

Once the deluge heavy airs broke,
	Weeds and vermin went with a stroke,
Poison and bile, cancers two friends,
	Fell to the grounds hungry amends.

Trees laughed loud and grew their hair,
	Opulent green color’d the air,
The crowds were gone, the coast was clear,
	Butterfly songs for all to hear.

Know you man’s hopeless devices,
	Always waiting for a crisis,
To stick a sword in another’s heart,
	Man’s most pathetic lost dead art.

Wolves and tigers follow no rules,
	Never betting on prudish tools,
Blaming not the world as given,
	Their jaws obey love’s laws arisen. 

Eons ago a vow was made,
	Years before words lost to trade,
The path before you poets know,
	Only your heart can make life glow.

Pointed fingers hide three blind mice,
	Beware of crowds and mob’s advice,
J’accuse writ large holds guilt away,
	Thumbs up to She who holds her sway.
Form: Ballad

Two Way Street

Two way street 
a common road
so much esteemed on the way one go's
Those who build a world with hands
and the bodies beaten to build those plans
Others figure with minds of brilliance 
while charmers amass financial assistance

Our world, our human existence.

Dividends balanced in skewed proportion,
like the honor of men who have heart or the hunt
those who are trained to be manly men
or the smooth handed man "that world" would shun

Judge not cruel your fellow mate
for side of track their life encamped
what label worn or charity paid
to each a lovesome splendor attached

Behold the child with silver spoon 
who feels no affection by day
or the orphans hair tenderly brushed
for Samaritans pity long the way

There beyond thou mansion fair
a beauty is beaten, lonely and scared
but she who wanders without a home
can be cherished more than riches owned

Our world, our human existence 

Forfeiture or dispossession 
affluent or highbrowed
all the difference still remains
to be loved or disavowed

I've pondered the pages between their covers
'twas this simple fact I've found...
our world is a quilt stitched by cultures
a solitary thread woven within and without

The difference is no difference at all
except the heights from which one falls
seams tear apart and like fabric lives unravel
yet you'll never find a road left untraveled 

Nothing exists beyond a need
and nothing is ever as it seems

Our world, our human existence 

What then is that of highest value
that which sparkles or that which lives
The blessing found in every child
or how massive an estate can be built?

Traveled now in both directions
paralleling both sides of the journey
The greatest value one can attest 
is to walk either road with mercy

Dignity lies estranged from pride
for pride is a predator disguised
One set in mind "I have arrived"
and shames the value of another's life 

If on a one way street you'd rather 
tread your way without your brother
go ahead
judge a book by its cover

Life is laden with countless pages
none void of feeling or untouched
Keep in mind the two way street...

where direction giving life is TO LOVE
Form: Rhyme

Vampire - Vampyre Love Poetry Series - 1

Night’s Passion.
______________

Let your dream, be a dream of night, 
let it know fear and love’s delight, 
for I walk within each dark, powered scene, 
I am the love in your darkened dream.
Let us not tell of the horrors you pass,
of the mighty anguish, your heart does amass,
let us just speak of our darkened love,
and the one, who comes, from the darkness above.

You love the touch, of his deathly, cold hand, 
you thrill whenever, before you, he does stand, 
Candlelight flickers, your shadow dances, 
now comes the time, to take love’s chances.
Golden hair, in waterfall flows, 
around the face, where love’s beauty grows, 
you hold close together, in lover’s embrace, 
while, long-dead lips, kiss your Angel face.

Love flows forth, from captive brown eyes, 
both trapped in a vision of paradise, 
then lips meet lips and forth comes the pleasure, 
and love, it shall flow, measure for measure.
Into his night dominion, he welcomes you, 
here you shall stay, the whole night through, 
and as does come, the first rays of sun, 
you shall lie in a bed, a lonely one.

But now your heart is beating true,
love does fill your heart anew, 
now your thoughts are on just one thing, 
and now your heart does truly sing.
a kiss lights the fire, of love’s domain, 
and tears do fall, like love’s own rain, 
in joy abundant, you hold close to him, 
your cup of love, filled to the brim.

The smell of death, there is none here, 
you know there is nothing to fear, 
only love, in the flickering candlelight, 
love that you welcome, every night.
now, let the dream of love begin, 
you know, love can never be a sin, 
love flows through you, with every breath, 
you know you have kissed living death.

Yet sweet the kiss tastes on your lips, 
his strong hands, caress your hips, 
and now, within his rich, brown eyes, 
you see your lover’s paradise,
as his hands caress you soft, 
your heart is lifted, high aloft, 
no blood, shall your love take from you, 
to love you, this is all he wishes to do.

His love, the Shadrach Hah does never ration, 
he shall give his all, within Night’s passion.
__________________________________________________
Form: Rhyme

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