Long Army Poems
Long Army Poems. Below are the most popular long Army by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Army poems by poem length and keyword.
I have been searching all my life for heaven in paradise but I just could not find it until my innate spirit reveals it. I searched from country to country over hills and valleys, mountain and plains; I walked until my feet were inflamed. But I could not find what my spirit reveals and what my heart feels.
I was carrying something with me, that was stronger than the energy that radiate in the sun and I had to find it before the day was done. It wasn’t within my reach, or I would have touched it, it wasn’t on the tree or my eyes would have behold it, but it was wrapped around my soul and destiny could not untangle it.You have to find a special code and make a hole in the mountain so that everyone can see what is waiting for thee.
Morning of the sun come and join me, if you have some time to spare, the army is going to march along the square. I have waited for this day to come, when I can go somewhere with someone special like you. I can feel your heart searching for me and when we find each other, we shall be free. I see you everyday but on weekend you go away and I cannot tell where you go and my soul keep searching for something I don’t know, it keep searching for something that I cannot see and this burden won’t go away from me so please make haste to come and rescue me.
Who can tell what is at the end of the road, who can tell
When the sun will come out and when the wretched courage of faith confronts you face to face on your first date, take a good look towards the hill and command your spirit to be still. I believe that the search will not be long, because my heart has indicted a wonderful song and when the time is right I will have right you by my side.
I knew there was something out there for me but I couldn’t tell if it was lodging at the bottom of sea and so I search for a diver to find it for me, and when I cast my lot, I almost fell off the rock, but the pebble fell into the ocean bed at the very spot where they wed and all of the sudden the cranes gather around to salute the crown. Height and might cannot break your will but courage and faith will break through the Iron Gate.
An army of mites reside in our lashes
With mouths and tiny claws
Along the road to human evolution
This was surely a major flaw
Astronauts strangely can't burp in space
What useless dribble is that
Felines can have over one hundred kittens
Now that's one pooped out cat
Some atheists put up Christmas trees
An identity crisis for sure
A cow can poop up to four tons a year
That's sure a big batch of manure
A woman once had sixty-nine children
Talk about barefoot and pregnant
With a dirty big bunch of kiddies like that
She could hold her own beauty pageant
Nose prints are used to identify dogs
Imagine if they used those for humans
Especially during the influenza season... yuk!
There'd be snot all over the policeman
The salary of Toto in “The Wizard Of Oz”
Was a hundred twenty dollars a week
That's a hundred and twenty dollars more than me
Since retiring, my new job is sleep
The tallest people in the world are the Dutch
Must duck underneath the windmills
While kissing, most tilt their head to the right
But there's some who rub noses still
For more details, please see my Blog dated 7th April 11
'In India, a new Revolution is in the offing'
A New Hope shown by Anna Hazare in India
A new torch is there in your hands, dear Anna Hazare*,
A torch by which you are waking up the souls
Of millions and millions of our sleeping citizens.
To wake up and to remove the curses created by many of our
Corrupt bureaucrats and down to earth polluted politicians,
Such people inspire only directly or indirectly in my country
Violence, crime, corruption, and greedy coalitions.
No words are sufficient to thank you, O soldier of Gandhi,
As by non-violence, only Gandhi wanted to change the society.
God has given you an opportunity to do something,
O bold soldier
Several hundred thousands are standing with you and
Millions would join your campaign for removing the curse of corruption,
Effecting our country and many countries of the world,
All these are the result of ever-increasing greed and misdeeds of many such bureaucrats and politicians,
Such people are ruining many countries of the world by their
Ever increasing lustful temptations for money and greed for power and pelf.
In an era when the world is facing its new Renaissance of knowledge and awakening,
We salute your guts and efforts to bring a wind of change in my country.
Just keep walking with the torch of courage and hopes you have lighted,
As millions and millions more are waiting to join your efforts or
Waiting to start a campaign like this in every country,
As all the nations of the world are facing the tortures created by unworthy bureaucrats
and politicians.
Keep the torch high to light up the nation with a new light,
Our dear soldier Anna Hazare.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 08th April 2011
Anna Hazare* . Anna Hazare is a 73 years old man and one of India's
well-acclaimed social activists. A former soldier in the Indian army,
Anna is well known and respected for upgrading the ecology and
economy of the village of Ralegan Siddhi which is located in the
drought prone Ahmednagar district of Maharashtra state
They came in wild, two little boys, excited to be here.
I am the school counselor, many try to get in.
I accept all who ask and try to every time they ask.
One has asked to have lunch with me several days in a row.
I always say okay, and today I said, “bring a friend”.
He has no sense of direction; he got lost trying to find the cafeteria.
I was surprised, but helpfully helped him find his friend.
They came back all bouncy and happy, excited to play with me.
I had to remind the main child to eat; he was enthusiastic!
He said, “we are wild and crazy guys”.
The other child laughed with glee about that.
They are going to be friends when they are twenty-one.
They are building a base.
I asked if this was an army base.
They thought this was hilarious.
A base to sit and watch tv and stuff.
I hated to see them go back to class.
They were having a delightful time.
I had never seen either of them smile this much.
I am grateful today that I always say yes, remembering why.
Michelin star cricketing cook…by hook or crook.. so canny..will find every nook and cranny…if you took a look at the record..score or text book ..won’t have forsook ..our dutiful..beautiful babbling Brook
Although the barmy army might suggest this almighty Blighty Test best..is more like an umami tsunami..
Bravissimo heave ho machismo..top grade…gung ho pyro Tyke tyro.. renegade hand grenade.. Bowlers afraid.. dismayed..slayed and flayed..somehow right now kapow..but also retrograde..
Boisterous babbling brook…a silky blade…gorged.. slices through a dappled glade..forged..handmade..the republic of Yorkshire conveyed and displayed
Stands so tall…enthrall with his gall.. like Jaiswal…towering…flowering overpowering..glowering…never cowering ... .just run showering..
Us all believers.. that larruping levers.. panache dashers rule…fielders does tease..
Shirty..become go fetch receivers..flash or is it dirty Harry..360 degrees wheeze with such ease..
What a way to play…with that hint and glint of Clint ..Please ..go on funk punk.. make my day
Not the most erudite but when it comes to timber tickles…willow wizardry….no luddite… will ignite… when things get dark and stark… Harry will be that spark..shining bright delight..having a lark out on the park..
Our sumptuous Aurora explorer…humming run sorcery scorer..tropic kaleidoscopic hues..rambunctious strumming the spectrum with his plectrum..woos queues with verdant voluptuous views
Many a sage would rage..even those on the other side of the Ribble.. wouldn’t quibble or contest..knows..the latest of those white rose heroes..is the Test best of the new age..
A pest..blessed with zest from the Yorky conquest treasure chest....won’t wain and never in vain…slain by Brook’s insane high octane rampage..gets us off the hook again…
Can’t cage..does entertain…on the ultimate stage..his disdain like heavy rain…no refuge from the deluge..babbling Brook subterfuge..floods the back page once again..
I AM A HOLY WOMAN OF GOD NO FEAR OF YOUR HO HO HO HONDA THREATS ON LICENSE PLATES YOUR HOME INVASIONS IDENTITY FRAUD UPON MY SPACE I AM ME YOLANDA MY PATRON SAINT OF HUNGARY AND POLAND I AM BEAUTIFUL ELEGANT AS PRINCESS OF SAVOY YOLANDA I AM ALL ARMY STRONG I AM ALL THAT I CAN BE I AM MY OWN HERO I AM CHARITY I AM PEACE I AM COURAGEOUS I AM BOUNTIFUL I AM COMPASSIONATE I AM KIND I AM AWAKENED FROM DEATH JUST LIKE LAZARUS I AM CRAZY HILARIOUS I AM THE SUN I AM FRAGILE I AM BROKEN SUCKING MY THUMB I AM SHY I AM TIMID BUT CUNNING TOO I AM THE WIND RUSHING THROUGH TALL PINES LANDING ON THE MAJESTIC MOUNTAINS WHISKING THROUGHOUT THE PLAINS AND PRARIE LANDS I AM AWESOME I AM THE RAIN SOFTLY HITTING MY FACE IT TICKLES WASHING MY TEARS AWAY I AM FUNNY I AM LAUGHTER ROARING ACROSS A CROWDED THEATER I AM PRESENT I AM HERE I AM THE RIVER FLOWING FREE I AM THE LAKE CALM AND STILL I AM THE WINGS OF BIRDS GLIDING ABOVE THE CLOUDS I AM BEAUTIFULLY MADE I AM ME NO OTHER ME I WANT TO BE I AM BLESSED I AM THE FIRST HICCUP OF A FETUS THRIVING INSIDE THE WOMB I AM THE VERY FIRST SMILE OF A NEWBORN BABY I AM ONE WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT I AM THE BREATH OF GOD I AM THE TWINKLE IN GODS EYE I AM AN AMERICAN POET I AM YOLANDA I AM ME I AM PRICELESS I AM UNFORGETTABLE I AM JUST ME WHY WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM
Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Quietude
I fail to coerce the pleasures
of the angular hushed cast that
repose near secret abundance,
an army of cloudy measures.
They dance serenely against less
modest logging near its silence
defense, encountering seizure
as my statuesque poise digress.
Overwhelmed, stood diminutive
in a soundless spread of leisure
as a mime wall layout treasures
of a speechless contributive.
The shadowed wall rises and sinks,
as one tongue-tied formed forty winks,
the whole functionality blinks,
an inaudible show methinks.
Tis unbearable to witness,
pray tell my savior cometh to
provoke a feather to fall and
perplexes an analysis.
I reveal my lamentation
of it intuitively stunned,
the fluffiness whisked e'er so soft
facing the wood-grained foundation.
Creating such a disturbance
of natural elements oft
space and time, that its sheer purpose
o'er the grain gave an appearance.
Twas newsworthy, the faintest hint,
proffered my initial imprint,
that the perceptiveness blueprint,
was a micro-captive reprint.
2020 February 17
Lines to Awaken your Muse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
3. A hasty glance and still my heart leaped up - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Rhyme Scheme;
abca, dced, feaf, hhhh, abca, dced, feaf, hhhh.
Howmanysyllables;
32 lines x 8 syllables per = 256 syllables total
I.
I am a quantum physicist,
and my name is Hamilton Kerr,
I am cursed with having knowledge
of what is going to occur.
Yes, I am talking time travel,
see I worked on a DARPA-team,
our job: to foresee the future,
a strategists ultimate dream.
We were considered long-shots,
given little chance to succeed,
spent three years in obscurity,
with vibrating strings we did weave.
But out team of obscure tech-heads
tried an approach none had before,
I can’t explain all the details,
but small success soon yielded more.
This led to a bigger budget,
and a large power supply,
then finally a prototype,
who volunteered to test it? I.
The army didn’t know of it,
they would’ve slowed down everything,
but we were so damn excited,
ready to go time travelling.
So they put me in the machine,
not sure when in time I would go,
but I knew I’d stay near this place
regardless of time’s quirky flow.
My vision seemed to flux oddly,
vomit came and went from my throat,
my balance shifted here and there,
I felt like I was on a boat.
Then it resolved, faded away,
I sound myself standing outside,
the sky was gray, the air dusty,
when I breathed it hurt my insides.
And it was cold, the sun blocked out,
something clearly had gone sideways,
I stood for a half-hour then
saw a figure coming my way.
At first I thought it was human,
but looking close, something seemed off,
the skin was a gun-metal gray,
and it looked quite rigid, not soft.
I stared at a humanoid robot,
very soon, it was at my side,
looked unblinking, seemed confused,
asked,”How is it you are alive?”
I was too stunned to answer then,
it cocked its head quizzically,
said,”Your body is giving off
a strange and unknown energy…”
He must have signaled his fellows,
a dozen more robots appeared,
as thunder cracked, one said to me,
“Come on, it’s not safe for you here.”
Now I finally could react,
said,”Did you take over the Earth?”
Then the robots somehow chuckled,
my question a big source of mirth.
One said,”We wouldn’t be trying
to save you from the storm to come,
besides, I’m rather curious
as to where you have come from...”
CONTINUES IN PART II.
1066 and all that by
Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015
King Harold and his army, marched all through the night
William the Bastard, was looking for a fight
He had landed close to Hastings, with at least 10000 men
He thought he was, King of England, so let him prove it then
The Battle fought at Stamford Bridge, had left Harolds army drained
but they had to march to Hastings, William had to be contained
The English formed up on a hill, and the arrows began their flight
One hit Harold in the eye, I think it was the right.
There’s been a few invaders, who have tried us on since then
but none have been successful, since that dark day when
William won the battle, but he didn’t win the war
The English still speak English, and will for ever more
Tie my hands,
so I may not touch others
with potent realities
Bind me from
what transpires about
Shackle my passions
of indignation’s
Muzzle my voice
meant to bellow and not lilt
Blindfold me not see
with a painter’s eye I rely
The art you’ll recognize,
warscapes that captivate
Hinder me from
perceiving what to navigate
Shield me from
poet’s stories begging to be told,
like the Buddha confined,
b’fore escaping his privileged environs
Shroud what are already
squinting eyes kept from comprehension
Gagged and kept in ignorance
and with festering hypertensions
Cover my mouth for
I shall not speak what is called truth
Crush my spirit in defeat,
trampled since my youth
What is left for me on this earth?
Taken a fin d’une époque,
an end of mine mirth
with a madcap army closing in,
and a harsh prison penance
a desperate gaiety leaves its efflorescence,
crimson wall art stains
no more shall be a poets words
and nothing beautiful remains
ergo focusing on the vanguard
this rendered impotent,
when the rearguard deserts
Lavender lovers are fine
they share a rapt audience,
tho we need to discuss
harsher matters with more gravitas
For this is chattel slavery, is it not?
Man enslaved like cattle,
let me speak out for my heart is worn
My tears run dry, free me
for life has taught me that when
there are many coincidences, they are not
Excessive serendipity harbors
an urgent message
speak softly at me be aware
I scream loud from the top of my lungs
ask questions not to be in the dark,
my spirit cast a monochromatic
stark palette of black, white, and gray
keep my spirit free respect me!
Jail me in the dept of dungeons
like the poets of yore,
Tho stone walls do not a prison
make, nor iron bars a cage
War is this fellow poets,
if you want to see a man
returned from the dead
if you wish to confirm
with your own eyes
that someone escaped the claws of death,
then I’m sorry to disappoint