Long Assails Poems
Long Assails Poems. Below are the most popular long Assails by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Assails poems by poem length and keyword.
"Puzzle Stomped"
Pieces scattered
placed on a table
with boundaries
between
the incarcerated margins
there are strict conditions
Time drips
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted
imperfectly
perfect
towards upwards
new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication
behind her veil
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses
holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded
the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to
free the redressed vicissitudes
to undress the crisp breeze of her
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets
gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes
Somewhere,
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle,
cutting tall poppy
each step she takes
towards her freedom gate
In his hands he cups
the hidden
missing piece
The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep
along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime
their spelt magic
grows majestically spoilt
seeded from a sweet perfume
conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged
off all the slippery knaves
and wax-sealed pages
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings
turn into suffocating
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces
She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints
for a new road home
He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song
the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance
thundering over a stormy mind grows
patch worked with glassed-in
jarred ghost bees, the old
puzzle of a story stomped on
He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time
Beyond takes her hand
And sensually whispers
along all her fairest fears
sweeping all pieces off her
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable
forgotten
left lacking
on the harsh floor
Cum dederit
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas
to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung
the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon
Time for a new story
He says darkly
and swiftly closes
Past’s door.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
The front rank hold stong,
from where does come the strength?
pushing forward, one step, another,
Keep pushing you red.
Swords, spears, axes, striking home,
black with enemy blood,
All weapons must be fed,
let Evil blood flow.
Yet blood shall still flow on both sides,
the horror of battle fulfilled,
the ranks of light and dark, hard pressed,
sweat mingles with blood.
The Arlaghs slowly moving back,
still, they are not done,
now a pivotal part of the battle,
the red cannot give ground.
There are still archers behind the main foot,
see how they ply their death,
they still fire their death into the air,
arrows striking home with deadly accuracy.
Carts now rolled from Alahsar,
they kept the archers supplied with death,
yet these supplies were not limitless,
never waste a shot.
Yet still, the enemy numbers hold,
do the dead rise upon the field?
What black magic is this?
the numbers did not decrease.
Look at the number of enemies fallen,
no one can see them rise,
their numbers still never seem to fail,
and a cold touch of fear can pierce the heart.
Men of Alahsar,
what power of spirit leads you on?
What song of power does grip your heart?
it is the song of man's glory.
This song has no end,
it is glories song of grace,
yet everything can have an end,
an end that brings forth bloody death.
Could this be the end of the song?
The song of golden Alahsar,
the time for warriors to fall on their swords,
the end of all that is joy.
These men shall have it not,
they shall fight on even though strength starts to fade.
strike home you men of honour,
fight on for all you love.
Onward, onward, let the spirit fire their souls,
one cannot think of the cost of defeat,
men, Arlaghs, spiders and wolves, all sing the song of death,
each fighting for the precious gift of life.
Battle does ever come with blood and pain,
The repugnant smell assails the nostrils,
oh, glory, how terrible is your song,
the living dread of all who love life.
Blood now freely mingling with the Earth,
the green dies before our eyes,
black, red, and dying green, now part of the song,
thunder has exploded on Badicha.
The battle rages on and on,
vacant eyes look to the skies,
glory's dream to live or fall,
the fulcrum falls one way or the other.
To Be Continued ..........
How great is our God! Let it be clearly understood
All Mighty is the Ascendent of all things Good.
He is restoring our suffering Nation
Through the strength of one immovable man
Who will not be swayed from the vision of greatness
God gave him for our beloved and cherished land.
From the beginning of Her inception we have held
The same heartfelt desire for Peace, Prosperity and Hope.
Our Vision of Freedom is released through sacrifice
Freely given from Patriots as Love flows from our souls.
To those destined to lead, the obstacles are made very clear,
Evil and madness embedded, entrenched never prevails.
Through weakness and fear, the Opposition tries to defeat us
With shocking and unnatural forces, and violent assails.
God sees every assault upon our Nation, Her people and land
By those falsely bleating their self-righteous and immoral stand.
They are dripping with venom and hatred for every good soul,
Yet our great God protects us against their raging vitriol.
He leads us upon the path of Righteousness as we follow His call
To defend our fractured Nation and keep Her safe for all.
How great is our God! He delivers us from evil,
Restores us with His Grace and renews our Hope and Trust.
We will not be conquered by the sins that abound
And accepted as normal by the far leftist hounds.
God is the Infinite Power that is steering our Nation now,
And we are forever grateful He is turning us around.
His principles strong, President Trump holds fast
To the morals and actions that keep America first.
No longer called the disgraced, degraded and deranged;
Never again will She be derogated, relegated the last.
How great is our God! Who has shown forth His Light
And raised a battalion of worthy leaders ready to fight.
United and hopeful, we stand as one, unafraid
Holding steadfast to the promises of Peace we have made.
From this moment forward we are resolute and strong.
Let “How Great is our God!” be our rousing anthem.
We, the ReUnited States of America, have a new victory song.
HARK, whilst thee singeth melody,
gauged labyrinths midst harmony,
ransom subconscious, placed thee free,
persuade possessed, heed thy purged glee,
beg reposed heart thy beating plea.
Themes prune labor to a degree,
song finesse thine assent of thee,
music quell sorts of thine decree
tune thy hearts, minds, souls let agree,
sensed voiced symphonic guarantee.
BEHOLD, tis fortes air, breathes content,
weighed thy heartbeats, tempos augment
impressed moods, thy amour be sent
meant lovers twain souls gleam, assent
thy course treats fair, thy issue spent.
Serendipitous time errant,
thine art grand resolve thy arms bent,
caressing untouched hearts invent
distant tests and trials, relent
thine lips, intimate kiss advent.
FORSAKE thine naught our past mistakes,
indulgence sought hearts for our sakes,
soften tones merged spirits partakes,
resumed innate instinct awakes,
forming trust fusion overtakes.
Suffer our ascent, farther takes
gift deeply, frothed measure inflates
ardor ties revive, blissful fates
balanced fragile hearts insulates,
assured embraced love gravitates.
HAIL youthful thoughts in elder heads,
man tests, steads boy within, joy spreads,
astir thee dreamers from their beds,
recite poems of their misreads,
dawn assails starred twilights to shreds.
Unspool thy sunrise; rays shone threads
day, strings purpled veins thy night's steads,
pump life ballads, hymnal bloodsheds
squander blues, swapping sparkled reds,
gloom bides thy shift whilst clung gold treads.
VIEW love gifts thee thy lamps, soft coats
pure sought breeze, mild trace, handful floats,
tis thy time spreads trend, loom moon draws
waft breeding told claims, thy hour thaws,
cares borne thy primes spills yon be culled.
Crowns thy verse brushed lobes set are lulled,
rouge mouths favor Cupid's pierced aim,
Cherubs lyre naught burnt Rome, thou blame
flamed trails, lust swells lovers tender
tinged warmed hearts, goeth thee, their splendor.
The Way barred, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Le sens clos by T. Wignesan
Every man has to confront his own night
If he wants to continue on his journey.
But Death takes it upon itself to meet him
At the hour and the place it chooses
(The moment when sometimes this man’s most at peace
Making him forget the profoundness of being at ease.)
There’s this look which suddenly arrests him
This wall against which he collides headlong.
There’s this arrow-like fixedness focussing ahead
Visible in his pupils. There’s this stiffness
Of the nape through which the soul is reached.
There’s this man’s expression of utter surrender
Yet he takes the step into the impenetrable void.
Yet this obscure hardness is an invitation
To force the impenetrable door through dire anxiety.
It being convenient to defer to terror
The way one dons a wedding dress. As long as God
Does not imbue with madness those who love Him
He’s not loved as He would have wished.
Just the way the Patriarchs the Prophets
Train their sights towards this wine. And the face
Gaping at the first to arrive on the road
To take him back home. Someone fills it up
Like one does a cup : this passer-by becomes Jacob
Unable to control God in his veins,
And the over-abundance frothing in his eyes.
He who assails the invisible (perhaps you)
Little does it matter if he’s petrified
Or if his limbs flail in the emptiness. He equally
Experiences the misery of such venerable persons
Who mask their vacant selves with such gestures
Their atrocious trances with such stillness.
If every man must on his own open the door of his night
That’s just so as to reveal what’s meant for all mankind.
No Jacob will ever stop clasping at God
Nor await Abraham’s Justice
Nor keep silent under Isaac’s knife.
Nor for the Adam in every one of us to provoke
The echo of the void at the portals of paradise.
(Jacob, O.C. t. II, p. 147)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 19, 2014
The Challenge ~ The Milford Haven Harbor shielded Wales
from pirates making merchant ships their prey.
Her ports have cradled many from the gales
and swaddled sailors as her pirates play.
The Irish and the Celtic Sea are veils
for pirate rogues unleashing disarray.
Upon the waves each plunderer assails
thus, seeking out each subjugated stray.
The "Deft", a barque where buccaneering dwells,
has pilfered one too many in the fray.
The Prince of Wales is badgered by the rails
of subjects pressing bane to go away.
For those who question who shall own the sea,
will soon be answered by the fearless “Spree”.
The Chase ~ The "Spree" is of the finest that avails
to always keep the pirate ships at bay.
Her pedigree for sailing soon prevails
when cries call out for her to save the day.
As savage winds enrage her mighty sails,
all full ahead she parts her harbor stay.
Her ballast stones hold true through rising swells;
no finer souls have e’er put under way.
Her foe, the "Deft", held many scoundrel tales
in boast of treasures gathered underway.
She’d loot a craft whose measured swiftness pales...
seemed fitting for the meeker ships to pay.
But on this day those spoils are not to be
for destiny says "Deft" must face the "Spree".
The Fight ~ On guard, they meet, but soon the sea rebels,
they tack and jibe in time to death’s ballet,
and once in range, each send their cannon shells
to find their targets in this last foray.
The cresting breaks resound the bellowed wails
from angry grinding waves and thrashing spray.
The "Deft" is doomed and soon her rigging fails...
a starboard roll would be her last display.
The mighty "Spree" rang eight the count in bells
to honor all who perished in dismay,
then slowly sank to join her pirate quells
in sodden slumber ‘neath the Longoar Bay.
We sculpt the hero heart in effigy
but heroes gain no mercy from the sea.
Mute
but immutable.
Unmoving, unmoveable;
timeless, yet tireless.
Solitary stalwart sentinel
surveils undulating horizon.
Aberrant, achromatic clouds
pock-mark the skies, as distant
rumblings herald his adversary's
latest gambit in their age-old conflict.
The wrath of a thousand crashing,
clashing, thrashing fists batter
against the beleaguered sentry.
Ceaselessly, remorselessly,
the maelstrom assails him.
But the foundations are firm and
noble gatekeeper stands steadfast.
Single-minded of purpose, placid
custodian morphs into combatant as
his luminous, voluminous blade carves
luminescent arcs through chthonic cloak.
Tenebrous tendrils wither and dissipate,
impotent under intense lambent onslaught.
His victory is only fleeting, as vanquished
foes are summarily supplanted by more of
their ilk in a seemingly continual surge.
Again and again, over and over, tormentor
presses the attack, exploiting any weakness.
Over and over, again and again, valiant warden
repels the barrage and despatches his enemies.
And so the pattern repeats endlessly, unabated,
as these eternal opponents jostle for position
in a perpetual cycle of aggression and defence.
Until eventually, finally, ultimately, the stale-mate
is broken; when Tempest's tantrum is tamed and
Blizzard's battalions have been banished, all is calm.
Tranquillity is able to reassert herself and order has
finally been restored; at least for the foreseeable future.
Obligations fulfilled, the triumphant Guardian can now rest.
Until the need arises again, until he's called upon once more,
he will wait patiently, watch diligently, in unflagging vigilance.
Forever resolute, a beacon of sanctuary, a symbol of hope, his is a
thankless task, but the Protector of Mariners will always be needed.
-----------------------------------
(C) John C Michaels, 27 July 2017
For Eve Roper's "Lighthouse" Contest.
(1st Place)
In this special world:
Authenticity assails apprehensions and apathy
Beauty is braced by belongingness’ blessings
Compassion calls for clamor over caring control
Dedication with devotion defends any disability
Empowering while exhorting expressive exposure
Fostering family-fellowship, forgiving flaws
God-governed, graciously guarding and guiding
Hoisting, helping hearts to be happy and healthy
Influenced, ignited toward impactful inspiration
Jubilantly joyous; not jeered with unjust jest…
In this world of special children:
Kindness kindles kind kinship in their kingdom
Love leads, liberating lives midst laughter
Mercy matters most in mingling with their minds
Nice nurturing and nourishing are nevertheless nice
Optimism ought to overflow as openness is optimized
Prayer props progress while patience prospers performance
Quest for quietude quells questions and queries of quirks
Recognizing their responses renders reaction-readiness
Special is their status; such stature synthesizes social stigma
Triumphantly, they tackle their tasks toward thanksgiving…
In this world of my special child:
Understanding upholds his unfathomable untowardness
Virtues he valiantly values vanquish his vulnerability
Watching him win as workmanship of God* wakes me from whining
`Xpectant am I for his ‘xcellent ‘xpertise as `xceptional
Yes, I yield to Yahweh my son's “yeppi” and “yay” yells of victory-yearns
Zealous to zoom with him toward zenith of grateful zesty zing.
*Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
August 30, 2024
3rd place, "In a World where I do not Exist" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 9/7/2024
In the Dark I stand motionless
Staring across the moonlit landscape
We are together but I am alone
My thoughts consume me
The silence and isolation comforts me
My heart quickens as the music starts
A solitary howl piercing the night air
A crisp baritone shattering the stillness
Then silence and again the night possesses me
My ears strain against the quiet
Anticipating another chord
Suddenly the symphony begins
Ecstasy fills my body as the music reaches me
Echoing from far across the countryside
At first the arrangement is slow and melancholy
Soon the tempo increases
Their opus lifts me up and
I soar over dew covered fields
Through tree tops that sway in the breeze
My imagination joins them in their chase
The harmony of their voices fills my mind
Then I am shocked back to reality
With the sound of my father’s battle cry
“Whoop…Hunt ‘em up boys.”
His companions reply in a union of voices
My blood flushes my face
Long drawn out howls begin to crescendo
Again my father assails the night
With a shout to his comrades
“Whoop…Tree ‘em boys.”
Willed by my father’s voice the hounds respond
A chorus of choppy barks pierces the blackness
My heart quickens its beat
My pace increases
Anticipation takes control of my steps
Guided by the sound of the dogs
Holding their pray at bay
We slip through dense underbrush
Over tree covered hills
We cross frozen streams
Through meadows of frosted brown
Our search lights penetrate the fog
Hidden in the shadow of a tree branch
Eyes twinkle like stars in the sky
A single shot rings out...
A thud…
Snarls…
Rustling leaves and breaking twigs...
The final gasps for life.
It is done
We lead the dogs away
My heart pounding in my chest
Exemplifying genuine love*
Author of wondrous charity sublime
reached down to humankind with mercy
of passionate grace for redemption against sin’s wrath…
such is agape expressed by God: perfectly unconditional and limitless!
More than celestial caress
that pampers cherubim and angels
wafting gentle whispering of blissful serenity
assuring precious treasures for infinite legacy impact…
such is agape the Father keeps bestowing to abound forevermore!
Offering eternal life and heavenly home
Source of blessed compassion sacrificed Himself
moved with concern along forgiveness-sanctification
for fallen people, needing salvation from iniquities’ wages…
such is agape: active deed reflecting Christ’s nature of selfless goodness!
Beyond mere feelings of delight
surpassing ecstasy inspiration brings
heart beat Enabler breathes out soul-revival
quickening spirit midst healing of the transgression-afflicted…
such is agape: spontaneous miracle wrought by the Holy Ghost!
Sharing while caring, propelled through prayers
along trust-seal reigning despite grievous infidelity angst
upon patience, meekness, longsuffering though pride assails
tested, proven and challenged in the crucible of sincere altruism…
such is agape of faithfulness’ courage --- exercised by brethren in the Lord!
*1John 4:8 He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.
April 28, 2021
1st place, "Agape" Free Verse Poetry Writing Premier Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh; judged on 5/5/2021.