Long Archeological Poems
Long Archeological Poems. Below are the most popular long Archeological by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Archeological poems by poem length and keyword.
Analogous, how said month name
September under went
ramifications throughout millennium
steeped in blood thirsty antiquity,
awash with torment,
where most twenty
first century mortals
oblivious to such lawlessness
wretched ultra-violent revilement
existentially going about their
daily and weekly business
attuned to requisite
employment as punishment
particularly if role of stoop laborer
earnings them niggardly pay
for meager nourishment,
there would be negligible
leisure time leant
to mull, ponder or scrutinize
such esoteric rubric
as preponderance of
ancient civilizations set precedence
contributing to present
without passing judgement
if in fact possessing
aggressive curiosity hellbent
interest and/or acutely fervent
trenchant awareness linkedin
with what human engineered,
sans preceding millennial development
events came about
to bring the here
and now space/
time continuum habiliment,
where a sniveling, groveling, and
conniving foo fighting beastie boy,
would be loathe to believe,
nor not in the least
interested - gives a rats a$$
what farcical betterment prevails during
this current year
two thousand eighteen, versus where
drama evidenced by
nothing "FAKE," nor unclear
substantial archeological recorded
treasure trove evinced severe
of prior momentous human quaere
orgiastic epics Bacchanalian
(distilled from ancient Egypt,
classical Greece, enlightened Rome
peoples played primitive organs
(viz, sax and violins) out across
the then world wide web
wrought permanent pressed
customs within part
ridge didst app pear,
in a tree, reverberated
millenniums later, and also asper
among named twelve months,
particularly when Ides of March near
plus seven days of week.
They’re not human, not even humanoid
These creatures' presence in our archeological history
Once considered a naturally occurring phenomenon
But only recently discovered otherwise
And were only hinted at by geologist nuts
Who believed Fairies had inscribed
These strange triangles on the surface of Quartz crystals
Not too far from the truth ...
After careful scrutiny, famed archeologist, Dr. Carol Lewis, PhD
Has made her announcement in "The Scientific Journal, Vol. MMMCLXXIII,
Unclassified Documents, (May 2035), Article: Interpretation of the Mysterious Triangles on Quartz Crystals”, pages 74-78, 94, and 96.
Dr. Lewis has proclaimed that her deciphering has uncovered
An ancient civilization, that after carbon dating
Existed more than 2.5 billion years ago
A time before Man, before dinosaurs, before time ...
The following is an excerpt of her work:
THE LOST ARHIVES OF PHLACKNOKTINOK
DURING ECLIPSE (OF) *undecipherable* BIG NEWS
SOFT ROCK ONES SLIP (THROUGHOUT) TIME
(IN) MIRROR SHELLED CRAFT (TO) GLIMPSE
REFRACTION (OF) *undecipherable* BENDING
CONTACT SUCCESSFUL. FACE (TO) FACE INEVITABLE.
FLOW (WITH THE) LIGHT.
- Presumably the author's signature and date
Meanwhile, we have made numerous attempts to contact Dr.Lewis
for any comments on her article but she has mysteriously gone missing ...
Most likely into the far regions of The Twilight Zone.
She was eminently qualified in numbers
Held fast to the beliefs in physical objects
Felt every molecule down to her mortal soul
Religion guided Sue through water and soil
Down in the mud of love
Prayer lined up on the side of God
A tool most useful in the invisible realm
If not
She was locked in tangibles
Sherlocked away to wait for Easter
Buried under a stone most uncomfortable
Undetected
To be deduced, from what is and what is not
Thereby order could be restored on Sunday
Drilled down to the atomic level of abomination
Established first by logic in the seventeenth century
Light won't pass through the ways of reason
Being solid as it stands
Where souls split into the Adam unnatural at Evening
All men are created equal to their mortal core
The Iliad and Odyssey are read and dead
In another language long and gone
Sue knows Greek as a 5 letter word
Greek know Sue more than you know
Trojans were of another kind of clan
Spoke Luwian at length
Cuneiform or hieroglyphic characters carved
Souls starved for more attention than misunderstanding
Stood out in their own reflection
Crawled home in a holy hole for protection
Flashlights are not prescribed for reading Homer
We recommend Sue's interpretation of the past
Objects in Archeological pockets are counted
Sins glow in the dark inspected
Calculated to the numerical physicality of being
Extolled by Sue who knows such things
Gold is found without tools to grasp the meaning
Souls unearthed remain with words unspoken
English is not an ancient tongue
Extensions take the dig
Can only go so far
Sue knows who you are
Before it starts
Pearl Of The Orient
Phillipines !
Pearl of the Orient seas.
Nick name used for centuries
to evoke the allure of Phillipines.
Pearl symbolising
country's Natural charm and pride.
Tourism oriented
Archeological state with more
than seven thousands
islands of which.
five thousands still unnamed
yet attaining fame,
attracting tourists on gorgeous welcome.
Enticing venture to energetic capital Manila.
Natural scenic beauty embellishing islands.
Lush landscape adorned by
stunning coastline ! Superfine.
Access of sapphire blue water
and argentine shine on beach.
Verdant tropical rainforest enriching the land.
Luxuriant brilliant vibrant
Rich biodiversity.
Marine life in abundance.
Gracious Glorious traditional heritage.
Blending own native lifestyles
associated with United States, Europe
and especially Spain,
exhibiting unique Phillipines Culture.
Large volume of Text Messages honoured
it with another Nick Name ' Text Capital of World.'
Specific car Jeepney resembling Jeep
is more than a means of public transportation
but representing
rescillence and ingenuity of Nation.
The passionate...pulsating rhythm,
Of your tasty...temple of doom.
Pounds a pummeling throb,
While hunting for buried treasure.
A lustrous...look like acid rain,
A hopeful...heart, a buried jewel.
My whip...willingly...whips,
A love escapade unwinds.
I raid your beautiful...body
Looking for the lost ark in the dark.
Erotic...exploration begins;
I explore a deeper crevice.
Solely...searching a secret tunnel,
Investigating, probing, and panting,
In the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
With my trusty archeological tool.
Hot wax poured...sizzling burns
The crimson scented wax streams
On this secret quest for love,
A stimulating last crusade.
Drops of salty...sweat
Bead from my fatigued...face
Dripping into the abyss of covers
And on the glistening skin.
Contrast: hitting the shiny...skin
The splash sound...is amplified.
A magnified grimace of pleasure
Protrudes the dark silhouette.
Steamy...lava skin yearns,
For a cool touch to extinguish
The heat of human friction while
Luscious...lips call out Dr. Jones.
____________________________
*Posted for an anonymous request
To write more free verse...
If and when a boarding pass equals an educational equilibrium then equators could sing. But Tiburon turbulent tuning turrets can often be misplaced and therefore undetected by a radar which measures over the same distance as abrogating and rotating iron tree. In a dress. Cluck clock click then meow very very very loudly. *** a giant fore bearer is a foretelling of intricately woven faith. Symbol not a worm. And work undergrowth like underwear. Wear then discard. It is the wash of the rain to stimulate the work no idolised hypothetical root. Oh and speak in solemn ways to a ninety degree angle of a archeological arch. No prominent bow is ever really removed. And no ant can really climb nor fly. Hesitation is not a great way of carrying weeding baskets across the lands. And wave always to talking boughs and boroughs for hendersfield is a spotty sporty tiger weaving across the land diagonally. So hahahaha feet on a train. Hahahahaha wild wielding whaling wasps whipping wheels. Hahahaha and a good great book with images. Diagonadtic dialogues. Dress dream dressed. And a pink pot smiles at a potato fried. Sink no number in a sum. Xxxxxx embryonic emblematic empty empire. Xxxxx superfluous starting stirring soup. Xxxxxx curvaceously z hyperthyroidism z
Form:
I must report that the Professor of Anthropology was more interested in how extinct prehistoric man, more specifically, Neanderthals, lived and why they didn’t survive. They seem bigger with bigger brains from the fossilized records. To her, it just didn’t make sense. So, she bought an island in an undisclosed location (classified) to create an unsanctioned closed environmental experiment inspired by recent advances in archeological biogenetic engineering. She intends to create not just one but a whole community of Neanderthals. So, she can study them, up close and for real, to see if there’s anything to genetically encoded inheritance.
It’s been six months since she announced her findings to the world. A special envoy has been dispatched to investigate. Upon touchdown on the sandy shores of the island, this journalist must deviate to announce, “What the ...?” For high up on top of the bank was a common lemonade stand with a little Neanderthal girl sitting behind a sign in front reading, “5 shells for my Galactic Transport Juice (special in-house formula)!!! DRINK UP NOW!!! Before the next MASS GLOBAL EXTINCTION Event!!! Only 5 shells!!!”
It’s like she was waiting for us. And she was alone.
AFTER THE FLOOD
Mount Ararat holds a testament
of stories told in ancient texts,
and stories shared down generations;
the aftermath of catastrophe.
Place names are the remembering
of gratitude as the Ark was drawn out of the water[1],
and the place of the descending[2]
into the village of the eight[3]~
survivers making pilgrimage[4] to the site of sacrifice[5].
Noah's Ark is resting there upon the mountain,
in archeological insistance,
and science is confirming the reality
of God's Judgment and His mercy.
The Drogue Stones[6] bear the witness to Noah's great adventure,
The Turks placing tourist signposts[7]
so we may walk the footsteps
of Noah and his progeny.
AFTER THE FLOOD
(tanka)
do doves remember
their ancient elder flying
over flood ravage
then returning to the ark
with a twig of new-found hope
[1] Uzengili Town – This was formerly called Mahser, which means: To be drawn out of the water
[2] Mount Judi
[3] Kazan and today is called Goller.
[4] Ziyaret Dagi
[5] Nasar
[6] anchor stones
[7] Noah's Ark National Park, Turkey
In the chambers where thoughts are supposed to
roam free, Foreign voices echo, not belonging to me.
Words planted like flags on conquered territory,
Thoughts that flower in soil not my own.
I speak in tongues my ancestors never knew,
See through lenses ground by hands I never touched.
My dreams are shaped by stories I did not choose,
Yet they feel like home—this borrowed architecture of mind.
Each mirror shows a face divided by history,
Each thought arrives pre-weighted, pre-judged.
I sift through my beliefs like archeological remains,
Wondering which are artifacts of occupation.
The borders of my thinking are invisible chains,
Drawn by mapmakers who never asked permission.
Yet in the margins of these imposed paragraphs,
I find spaces where resistance takes root.
For even a colonized mind can question its borders,
Can recognize the foreign footprints across its landscape.
And in that recognition lies the seed of reclamation—
The first step toward a sovereignty of thought.????????????????
Minor DeTales
Minor DeTales
Time is still an enemy of mine.
Listings and beginings over aeons of worthless worry.
Searching for archeological assessments.
L()()king for this WORMY under Stone.
Just one white Stone.
I have a flower vine with me running all around me with roots
and AH the thing has found me there.
There seems to be a flowere near where my heart used to reside.
Risen, Risen, Risen from the Dust, I cried.
My New Namme, What is it? Am eye lust , or NO;
just forgiven Jesus, ascending into Heaven,
where comfort is a cup of cold water and love.
NO wait, I see mye place is near: the door of Heaven;
and She is waiting for me there, mye flower, mye Parme.
For Me, For poor me, we love like we did here in Heart,
and word and must we never part again.
A bed of Whiteflowers and violets, underneath both of our heads.
A Whiteflower is there at rest. A maiden blest.
Part of mye new family.
The spirits of all time.
Violet and Mary and forgiven Jesus.