Long Aristocrats Poems
Long Aristocrats Poems. Below are the most popular long Aristocrats by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aristocrats poems by poem length and keyword.
The birds of pray are on their way, in every beak the Word
(of ptomaine tomes by gnarly gnomes) whose meaning is obscured;
they roost aloof on every roof, obscene but always herd,
to tell the tale of Jonah’s whale and other rhymes absurd -
with shifty eyes, they’re giving whys for living life deferred.
While jackals lean, hyenas mean, and hungry crocodiles
feast in the lounge and never scrounge, lambs languish in the aisle.
The naive dare to say “Unfair, let’s try to reconcile.
We’ll all relax and weigh the facts, let justice spin the dial.”
With jaundiced monks and minds pre-shrunk, the jury is compiled.
The Rulers meet, First Ladies greet, the Kings appear in style.
Before the Court, their sins are short, they’re swept into a pile;
with diatribes and petty bribes, the jurors are beguiled.
The Herd entreats, the Shepherd bleats the verdict of the trial:
“You have no face. Stay in your place, stay in the Rank and File.
And wait instead, for when you’re dead, for riches afterwhile”;
Aristocrats add caveats while sailing down the Nile:
“If Minds are mugged or simply drugged with philtres in a vial,
then few indeed will fail to feed the Pharaoh’s Crocodile.”
The wordsmiths spin, the bankers grin and politicians smile,
the riff and raff, they never laugh, they mark a martyred mile.
The rituals are finished, all, here comes the Reverent Priest.
He leads the crowds beneath the clouds, and there the flock is fleeced
with crossing signs and bloody wines and consecrated yeast,
“The last are first, the rich are cursed.” (The leached remain the least.)
His step is gay without dismay before his evening feast;
he thanks the Lord for room and board and bows to Eden East;
he doesn’t sigh or wonder why the sins have not decreased.
The sinking sun is now undone, the sky is fading red.
A spider black hides in a crack and spins a silken thread
and babes will soon collapse and swoon, on curbs they call a bed;
with vacant eyes they'll fantasize and dream of gingerbread,
and so be freed, though still in need, from anguish of the dead.
Continued
Since our most recent U.S. Presidential non-selection,
for one thing a Trumpian could not become
is therapeutically presidential,
I have become worried about our democratic suffrage.
Perhaps only mothers, or maybe also fathers,
of kids with special vulnerability needs
should be allowed to vote,
or perhaps each and all allowed to vote,
but only special needs parents to vote twice.
With each vote cast,
whether one or two,
this vote is cast for healthy futures
wealthiest nutrients imaginable
for future generations with increasingly special climate needs.
It may take a special mom,
a compassionately vulnerable dad,
to truly see each child has special needs
to regenerate toward full strength wealth of health
accessible to those born harmed
by an increasingly rabid ecopolitics
of every man for himself
(and also women and children, if and as time allows)
in a Might Makes Triage Right evolving world
of actively distrusting revolutions
between aristocrats who harvest power
and special needs kids
who, by comparison, harvest not,
and never ever will.
Unless, or course,
we might conquer democratic potential
and original intent
by electing candidates whose primary experience
of electoral special needs value
are WinWin outcomes as moms,
and maybe even dads,
of kids with climate healthing special needs
well met
suffrage through discontent.
Hoop-la! Hoop-la! Polio is back in town.
And it is sick of being silent
With all the other viruses around.
It wants some humans to infect
To gain back some respect.
Covid and monkeypox, you better watch out
Ebola, Marburg, Tuberculosis, and AIDS too.
Polio is nothing to scoff about
It will paralyse little children
and put you in an iron lung den
What has become of this world that has been?
Oh don't worry Ms Daisy
They will find a new mRNA vaccine
And inject everyone like crazy
While the people are still covid hazy
The media will pump the narrative
The vaccines are safe and effective
They will sell it so creatively
With lies and propaganda
If you don't agree it will be slander
The doctors with happily oblige
Stick out your arm and stick in the jab
and pretend nobody has died
They'll collect their money
It will all look nice and sunny
Hoop la! Hoop la! The vaccine don't work
Oh shut them up, shut them up
They are conspiracy and flat-earth jerks
We're thinning out the population
We will soon have a better nation
And while we are at it
Let's do another Great Reset
and make everyone a digit
The WEF aristocrats know what they are doing
This is something they have had brewing.
Once Upon a Law
Long lines at midnight bring cheers
to the cathedrals, immune to forgotten laws.
Circles in the sand, circles in the air, around
and around, laws are thrown against the sky, but no
one can see them, the sky has no limits on suffering,
and daylight brings more laws.
Well-intentioned aristocrats send money and
celebrities, where law has vanished.
Wanderers know the sunshine needs laws to survive,
their wandering searches for light.
Now, the airplanes fly faster, and taxicabs ignore all
the traffic laws….people talk faster….. walk faster,
something is about to happen, I hope it’s tomorrow,
I hope
…… It’s tomorrow
A Handcart and a Ring
A man I knew had a handcart and became self-employed
I often saw him in the town with a load of parcels and sometimes furniture
He was a contented man.
One day, on his way to the railway station, the wheel of his cart came off
four suitcases fell into the street.
So, what to do?
He traced his steps and soon found the missing pieces that kept the wheel
on the axle, but he also found an expensive diamond ring
he put it in his pocket as he was occupied with fixing the wheel
and get his load of suitcases to the railway station
In the paper, he read about a lady who had lost a dear ring
he contacted her via the paper, and she was happy,
she didn’t give him any money because, as she said, honesty has its reward
The people at the paper thought this was too mean for words
made a collection and handed the kind man the money.
A Picture of him and his cart, the paper, and a nice story for the paper to sell.
when too old to push his cart around, he became a poet of the small things in life
and not about the life of aristocrats
be fair, be fair
and don't you dare
try to invade my privacy
cage my harmony
nor enslave my mentality
be fair, be fair
and don't you dare
treat love cruelly
for freedom is sweet
sweeter than honey
and valuable than money
it is priceless
and every one needs it regardless
be fair ,be fair
and don't you dare
you autocrats, aristocrats
bureaucrats who pretends
to be democrats
be fair , be fair
and don't you dare
for even the tress
waive for freedom
anytime the air blows
and the fishes in the sea
cries for freedom
anytime the water flows
even the birds fly
in the sky
saying be fair, be fair
and don't you dare
Champagne and wine
Elixirs of the elite's delight
beverages of the upper classes
as they rendezvous and converse
amid soirées decked in elegance
mingling among their
latest art acquisitions
envied, even by the Louvre
The wonderful taste of caviar
In opulent ballrooms, near and far
where aristocrats and fashion find their air
ah yet sometimes I ponder
how the toiling working class
gets through monotonous days
I imagine them after their grind
at the Cox N Bull Tavern
drinking and lapping cheap O'keefe beer
chugging down their boredom
in idle gossip
planning petty crimes
Open Wide The Eye Of The Needle
The eye of the needle is enormously large
It is made for camels to go through
Jesus tells us how easy it is
The very rich, when they grow up, enter
Pay for their passage into heaven
With lots of money invested in gyms
Simply becoming very thin is their solution
Everything fits with a little effort
The wealthy think they can buy anything
Special diets and medicine help them win
Gain favor with God through vast resources
Camels enter the needle first
Followed by the elite and aristocrats
Poor people don’t need heaven since they are fat
God doesn’t need slackers in the after life
Someone has to remain on Earth
To make more babies to serve the real needy
Rich people going through the needle won’t be easy
372.
The Prayer of a Warrior's Heir
Oh Father God, this is the best time to make me a millionaire
This is the greatest moment to be merciful & fair
Merciful to the one being thrown into lion's lair
Fair to the one who cannot escape the snare
Consider this not a temptation nor dare
So with Thy miracles, I can gloriously share!!!
Listen to the Prayer of a Warrior's Heir
The grandson of a soldier allied to those with golden hair
Whose national emblem is still under our care
For their country's our jewel so precious & rare
Whose relation with ours no one can impair
Although our system is corrupt & unfair
Prices going up from veggies to fare
Stomachs are empty, pockets are bare
Yet the aristocrats' banks eternally glare
Glaring with gold they're reluctant to share
Where is your Christianity? Where is your care?
-07/11/2015
(Dumarao)
*My Prayer Poems for Ultimate Victory Collection
The advancement of a law that spins
People into a tizzy for reasons maybe unknown even to themselves
Might make sense to professional, arrogant, all-knowing law makers
or lawyers but maybe not so much sense to us regular folks
The evolution of life and humanity is such that we seem to demand
forever after rules, maybe even deeming them necessary as we overpopulate ourselves to a choking degree and kill our planet by not taking care of it with any thought at all.
But are all of these written rules for other folks truthfully
necessary, or just a way for pompous self-appointed
aristocrats to make a name for themselves by making
yet another silly law?