Long Antiquities Poems
Long Antiquities Poems. Below are the most popular long Antiquities by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Antiquities poems by poem length and keyword.
The Dragon Riders Saga II
The Dragon had returned to the clearing where he'd left his rider near neardeath
Hearing the strange tale brought mission purpose back and fire to his breath
A healer had found his friend somehow from the the universe of magic unknown
Now time was precious and running out their mission together again had grown
Just then to the Dragon came a voice upon the wind, was this sorcery?
A voice he had heard before long ago and was not mistakable or a forgery
His rider was the only one to ever communicate this way, prophecy had sworn
Something that was trained into them from the time they both were born
I'm the Princess of the Elves, you may know my name as I'm Oshshewelle
I have returned life to your rider he's now alive and will do well
The Dragon listened closely and his riders heart was now beating so strong
He thought can I trust this elf and what if I may be foolish and wrong
My rider and I are ready to fight again he thought back to the elven princess
To defeat this spell of evil darkness will be the end and our success
I gave your rider a talisman for the magic you'll need to win this fight
To Blood Mountain Lake you two must make this battle in flight this night
Take the Golden Armor and shield forged by magic wizardry in the art of steel
To protect you from the magic of the Mage's spells he will cast with zeal
To break the blackest enchantment it's guardian you two must defeat
Like you, a Dragon born of legend, there it's Taricrex you'll meet
Tis insanity that you speak of the Dragon screamed to the Princess elf
Tis suicide you ask of us! This quest of yours is purest madness itself
Even if we have the Golden Armor, shield, and antiquities rune inscribed sword
You know prophecy, the only one to wield them must by birthright be a lord
Not for may centuries has there been one with royal blood flowing in his veins
Tis magic trickery you speak with, I have long known there are none who remains
Your rider has all these and you were never told for good reason he has the blood too
He was not born a rider, he was hidden, I speak only the truth to you
This secret is entrusted to you for right now, with your rider it's not yet shared
For this he cannot yet know, and surly not until he is much more prepared
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.
Museums are quiet except
For crackling parquet floors,
Wooden squares, a game board:
Checkers or maybe chess
Of various right angle, grain striations.
Parallel to paintings in oil, red lines
Begin a court for pickup basketball.
But whether subjects of famous battles
Or romances between animals and gods,
They are stuck in a frozen frame moment
Like mammoths in some La Brea Art Pit
It is this instant we are to see anew
Each brush stroke, a wisp of hair,
A dab of white, a cloud condensing,
I lean close.
An unseen alarm makes a statue come alive,
A funerary, votive docent who guards
Mesopotamian and Egyptian antiquities.
She curses me in hieroglyphs translated
And dictated from an Old Kingdom tongue.
My crime: too close to art.
As if my admission, and apology
Were not punishment enough.
I could have cast my eyes
At strangers surrounding me.
Vatican visitors are permitted
To touch the Pieta statue for luck.
Suspecting it has only so many
Touches before marble succumbs,
It’s luckier not to take a chance. (1/30/02)
ADMIRATION OF ANTIQUITIES
fragments
advanced
as enhancements
unravel
incorporated
in original frames
partially pseudo
a near profile
enlivened by figures
so elegant
in elevated status
an
artistic
tradition
integrating& enduring
notions
from a
feathered
consciousness
efforts in the venerated
tradition
with predilections
so
renowned
in traces
of a particular
treatment
achieved&
envisioned
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
To decline in sense by standards, morals and dignity,
perceived decay in honor, faith and most of discipline.
Falling into the process of condition deterioration,
societies antiquities and its embarrassing vulgar declaration.
Excessive indulgences for the riches spoil,
and the hangover as inheritance as waste to toil.
No real challenges with that hoarded gold as bliss,
throwing all the coins towards the issue and miss.
Scattered treasures as wild status quo and garden of Eros,
juices of amnesia and enhancing substance grandiose.
Upon the soul the kisses and floating wine,
smoking hot chicks not to mention therein.
When that velvet luster speaks the eye,
and cruelty pronounce that language of lie.
Business or pleasure not the question here,
for vicissitudes ripeness amorously to stir.
Thousand twinkling stars from heaven dares,
as above so below are the mirrors unaware fares.
To pamper pleasures perversion wanton desire,
fervent demeanor and the call to admire.
We all coming with a purpose in this world,
and many shades of fears establishing that paradox mold.
The force of life into purity of spirits and its evolution,
attachments of lost egos and its trauma seeking conclusion.
*Image of Chicago Med by Wolf Entertainment.
State of Grace
bequeath I, as a living sacrifice,
beseech mercy from my iniquities,
betold yon Calvary He paid the price,
bestow afresh trust from antiquities,
bare inhibitions and obliquities,
boost soul midst clemency and gratitude,
behold keen I stayed grasped in rectitude,
blessings prevail harmonizing my life,
betroth my soul justly in servitude,
beckons me gladly to the afterlife.
#4. State of Grace
2020 August 08
*1st Place*
Pick-A-Title, Vol 21 - Dizain
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2020 August 19
Frayed border prints paste illusion,
worn-out inks swirling bleeds,
The hauls, stareways, persuasion,
privileged balconies.
Antiquities of read reviews,
claims of a rustic quill,
to scribbled marks a light verse muse,
and forever bestill.
I hear the silence of the slams,
satirical critics,
synthetic irony exams,
stardoms paralytics.
It dominates its point to rise,
where life did emanate,
afeared facade recital trice,
timeless collaborate.
A reenactment of Bo Peep,
tough be a ruminant.
My first part, blossom -- was a sheep,
I was magnificent.
Wandering on timeworn cobbled streets,
seeking the mysteries of medieval places
revered through the passing of time
and antiquities graces;
A labyrinth of undulating faded frescoed walls,
cloistered shrines with secrets to tell, sprawling palaces,
monuments in memoriam and the cathedrals
towering centurion bell;
Rugged mountains glazed in a crown of luminous snow
ascend over beaches, kissed by the sapphire sea that
ebbs and flows below.
Spiraling roadways lead to fortified cities,
emerging from phantom clouds, hovering over
orchards and groves, the fruits of the earth,
dangling from lofty boughs
January 7, 2017
Magnetic attraction, enchanting dream of a lifetime -
majestic pyramid attracts my eye,
mystique draws me in
O, your architecture! Pavilions, colonnades; art enclosing art,
every square inch deliberately designed,
ceilings pour forth scintillating splendor
Antiquities from Rome, Egypt, the Orient:
trying to wrap my head around art
created in Mesopotamia 6,000 years ago
Dazed and captivated in your Greek sculpture hall:
Bronze beauty, marble magnificence,
Venus de Milo seduces still
What history you have archived on your walls and pedestals!
Charlemagne holding his scepter,
Louis XIV in regal resplendence
Oil on canvas communicates genuine genius
Rembrandt, Rubens, Raphael,
Vermeer, Van Dyck, Vigée-Lebrun
Mythology awakened to life in marble:
Hera, Hermaphrodite, Neptune, Nymph,
Psyche and Cupid
Even commoners respectfully regarded:
Messina's military man, Brueghel's beggars,
Michelangelo's dying slave
Centuries of religious faith expressed with grace and grandeur:
Moses in the bulrushes, Islamic ivory,
the penitent Magdalene, Virgin and child
Artistic vision reflects and redirects history:
Renaissance masters forecasting the future,
Monet's Impressionism a daring new style
Fifteen minutes till closing, where have the hours flown?
What of tapestries, textiles, drawings, decorative arts?
Alas, another day.
Highlight of the day, world's most famous painting:
mysterious Mona Lisa smile
thanks me for coming to visit
Louvre:
timeless testimony to artistic aesthetic
cathedral of contemplation
history of humanity
Written 15 Sep 2020
ANTIQITIES
transform
the
space
responding
to
mysterious
imagination
&
cultural
treasures
in
dispersed
artefacts
inscribed
example
or written
text
gleaned
or shaped
by mystery
of the
once
discarded
elusive
significance
gone
sustainable
organic
lyrical
shades of
yesteryear
works in progress
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand