Long Assassinated Poems
Long Assassinated Poems. Below are the most popular long Assassinated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Assassinated poems by poem length and keyword.
we will never be compunctious
as we dwell in the body of Christ
and it matters not our race or color
nor how we live our lives
we will never be ashamed
of the anointed Gospel Word
for we know the power it has
yet to others it seems absurd
assassinated, crucified
He was hung high on a cross
Jesus the One who rose up again
with a supernatural spiritual force
as power is invested in the One
Who in His hand holds it all
and power is magnified in the One
Who controls and makes the call
with assurance and energy
we need to place our hearts and hands
in the One with the miraculous power
Who drew that line in the sand
we are not ashamed of the Gospel
and we embrace the Beatitudes
for there's truth and strength in them
as well as a righteous aptitude
if you understand that God will always
fulfill your heart's desires
and run circles around your enemies
while keeping you focused and inspired
we are not ashamed of the Gospel
for it has strength, power and might
as the Written Word of the Most High
has the ability to set every wrong to right
we are not ashamed of the Gospel
as it's our anthem on how to live life
our Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth
for when we journey towards our Lord Christ
WE ARE NOT ASHAMED OF THE GOSPEL
CLEOPATRA
Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, the black beauty,
clever, erudite, great politician, attractive cutie.
Her exotic charisma and magnetic attraction
whelmed Julius Caesar to tie romantic relation.
Couple kept happy marital status
Till Caser was assassinated by Brutus.
Strong seduction of Cleopatra compelled Mark Antony
to fall in love and make a knot of matrimony.
01/11/19
First Place
' A BRIAN STRAND JULY' Contest by Brian Strand
Women are quickly adjusting to modern times
by being more liberal and independent of men;
gone is the housewife, mother and wife,
who stayed home and took care of her children...
On the other hand, men seem to have lost their power
as breadwinners by becoming less caring and loving husbands;
families rarely gather at dinner to discuss matters,
and this daily celebration pleased their Creator...
Martin Luther was assassinated and John F. Kennedy followed him,
so did his brother Robert and America watched and mourned;
these were, indeed, difficult times that changed the image of a nation,
and the innocent blood spilled by hatred spread more indignation...
Unexpectedly, something marvelous happened which brought awareness;
and soon after the American astronauts landed on the barren and grey moon,
everyone wanted to declare their rights as abiding and loyal citizens
of a country that suppressed freedom and created unneccessary choas and gloom...
This teen was powerless and horrified witnessed these events that changed America,
peace, justice and fairness were far cries from reality, more needed to be done; and mama
didn't want to lose me when the Vietnam War started and hippies refused to pick up arms;
and their peaceful songs are a reminder of a youth spared by God for His great purpose...
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Only rarely does someone stand up, rise up
And draw the multitudes in
Into the sacred space
That includes us all
And yet somehow eludes so many.
Such is the nature of free will,
We can all screw up, again and again and again.
What did Charlie do to deserve
To be assassinated? Nothing.
What did he do to bring it on nonetheless?
He met people as equals wherever they were,
He tried to raise everyone up,
And he did more to get out the conservative vote
Than anyone in generations, if ever.
Apparently, treating others as equals
And getting out the vote for your side
Is enough to get you killed
Because, I guess not everyone wants to be equal
Some want to be “special”,
With all the special rights that implies
And not everyone wants a level playing field
When it comes to politics and campaigns and elections.
What those people want
Is special privilege and advantage
And dead opponents.
So it is, and so it may be
But, if that’s the game you want to play
Be prepared to die a martyr
To a useless, meaningless, nihilistic cause.
It’s called a self-fulfilling prophesy.
(8/7/26)
Africa's land, shadows of colonialism still linger
Leaders rise, with hearts aflame, resisting the fetters
Of Western dominance, a legacy of dolor
Their courage, a luminary, in the dark of night's refrain
Kwame Nkrumah's vision, a guiding radiance
Pan-Africanism's fervor, burning bright
Unity and self-determination, his battle cry
Ghana's freedom, his legacy, forever exalted
Julius Nyerere's Ujamaa, a path less trod
Self-reliance's puissance, Tanzania's nod
Non-Aligned Movement, his noble quest
Distance from West, and do what's salubrious
Patrice Lumumba's heart, untold stories bear
Congo's freedom, his legacy, beyond compare
Assassinated young, his spirit remains
A symbol of resistance, against foreign chains
Thomas Sankara's fire, a revolutionary's conflagration
Burkina Faso's self-sufficiency, his people's encomium
Anti-imperialist, with a people's cry
Empowering Burkinabés, until his final valediction
Gamal Abdel Nasser's stand, Suez's mighty tumult
Nationalized the canal, with an iron hand, forever more
Arab nationalism, his passionate plea
Reducing Western influence, his legacy
Other leaders, with stories untold
Nelson Mandela's fight, apartheid's fold
Samora Machel's valor, Mozambique's beacon
Haile Selassie's legacy, Ethiopia's guiding luminescence
Ellen Johnson Sirleaf's path, a trailblazer's stride
Liberia's economic growth, her careful guide
Navigating West, with a nation's pride
A female leader, with a story to abide
These African leaders, with hearts of aurum
Resisted West, with stories to be told
Their legacies live, in history's page
An evidence fortitude, in a continent's stage
Where have we gone awry? Who do we offend?
What are they searching for, in Africa's land, again and again?
Now, they pursue Traore, Burkina Faso's president true
May they not succeed, in their Machiavellian pursuit, anew
The first world war started because of poverty
The first world war started because of greed
The first world war started because of an assassination
The first world war started because of Ideas
The first world war started because people wanted revenge
Each Statement appears to claim, all of the truth
Each statement, appears to conflict with the others
Yet each statement is a different side of the truth
To see all of the truth you need to look at the life of people
To see all of the truth you need to look at all sides of a problem
The first world war started because of poverty
Gavrilo Princip start his life in poverty his family suffered
with six of his sibling dying in infancy poverty became
the breeding ground for his feelings of discontent
education brought him into a world of ideas
The first world war started because of greed
people in power, used the assassination as an excuse,
going to war they thought, would bring them profit,
they didn't picture themselves losing but instead,
pictured the profit of taking wealth from other countries
The first world war started because of an assassination
Gavrilo Princip joined a group called the Young Bosnia
Believing in ideals of unification inspired by ideas from
Romanticism, anarchism, and revolutionary socialism
Serbian military puppets encouraged to commit the assassination
The first word war started because of ideas,
Ideas are all around us, flooding our lives every day,
people say, get rid of the immigrants, they take our jobs,
Immigrant's say, we are better than you, we have less criminals
communism was an idea that inspired Gavrilo Princip
The first world war, started because people wanted revenge,
Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife where assassinated
People wanted revenge people wanted retaliation
supporting government decisions people became ready for war
with the support of the country people go to war.
Nobody started the first world war because of religion,
it started because of many, conflicting reasons
these are but a few, I sure their are many more,
but if we want to learn from the past, to make a better future,
Think hard, of how to make a better world, without war.
Fine November evening in 1964, when rocket ships were in vogue.
This one was no different, except it had been built by my family
As an escape device, in case the Cold War became a hot one.
We were afraid of Russia, of course. And the atom bomb.
A dragon sky of many hues winked in the distance;
She was blowing fire to the west, in the form of a sunset
Our red ruby rocket stood ready, in full launch mode.
All we had to do was add fuel and push the button.
Will we land in Saturn or Mars? We wondered. But Daddy was silent.
He said not to worry, but this was the sixties. People were assassinated.
The mist upon the turquoise lake gave me a feeling of calm.
Surely the Russians were not going to push the button tonight. Right?
Disguised as an Apple Computer Technician.
He initially hacked Macbook Pro laptop.
He (alias Harvey Specter)
planted seeds of suspicion
that criminal activity prevailed
within my geographic area in general
or questionable individuals
lurked within or without
Citizens Bank in particular,
and suggested yours truly (me)
to be wary about
over friendly employees
at aforementioned capital one
storied financial institution.
Said gonif (pulled a masterful subterfuge)
inveigling yours truly to carry out heist
of the twenty first century
against his honest good n plenti resources
(subsequently checking and
savings accounts severely depleted).
The invisible webbed wide whirled net
ensnared me lock, stock and barrel.
Little did I know
the spellbinding impact
until the dirty deed done dirt cheap
found writer of these words
figuratively holding the empty bag
where I got forced to trod
analogous highway to hell
courtesy diabolical, inimical, satanical...
devil may care disguised cozener
who wove believable scenario
claiming Citizens Bank employees
involved in suspicious conspiracy
to siphon off hard earned bucks.
I submissively consented
to participate and cavalierly disperse
freshly minted Benjamins
suddenly linkedin
chain of events
rocketing, kickstarting, and experiencing
a worse horror than death
mortified at being bushwhacked.
The feeble explanation, justification,
qua obliteration, ululation
trumped with lame excuse
yours truly not in his right mind.
Mind control, (albeit remotely)
assassinated rationality while hypnotically
feeling commanded, governed,
née kid lee killed
mine esprit de corps
among kith and kin
consigning thrifty troubadour
to the depths of despair
wishing termination of existence
in tandem with damnation, interrogation,
penalization, et cetera of nasty brute.
After series of unfortunate events brought,
where innocence and naïveté caught
teetotaler tempted to drink deadly draught
of top quality hemlock sold
at many bustling entrepôt
cuz now existence fraught
with torturous quaking
nauseating, kickstarting hatred
of self, thus restitution
of funds sought
by folks willing bestow largesse.
If yes check out (fiasco from fraudsters
frazzles father)
legitimate platform
where charitable people swarm
and toys are sold.
She died in a body she hated
Her last memory was watching herself get assassinated
How she died isolated
Surrounded by a see of white faces
Who stood there being witnesses
To something that would be talked about across the ages
Her blood had painted the pavement
The cop stood there admiring his painting
She died in a body she hated
She didn't even get to experience the freedom
Of what it's like to experience self love
All her life she had spent her time being critical
To her blackness
Not only was her time stolen
But she didn't get to experience the joy that comes from
A black girl taking control
And realising she was never the problem
It was the system
Who destroyed her self image
And finally realising her blackness was a superpower
She died in a body she hated
The cause of death: racism
She died in a body she hated
Not realising the only reason they hated was because of their envy
And jealous behaviour
She died in a body she hated
Without finally understand her full potential
She died in a body she hated
Before her life had even started
Ladies and gentleman
Breaking news proving
The great conspiracy theory
Was far from a hoax -
Early this morning Jack Frost
Guilt-ridden and repentant
Turned himself in to the authorities
Admitting to his gruesome crime
Jack Frost confessed it was he
who assassinated Sir Humpty Dumpty
By the great wall of China
in broad daylight in front of hundreds
of witnesses who never came forward to testify
The coverup seemed it would never be solved
The assassin has been apprehended
The long-term mystery has been solved
Though the motive remains sketchy at this time
It is rumored that there was a love triangle
With the international superstar Miss Piggy
AP: 1st place 2025
Submitted on June 27, 2018 for contest THE MYSTERY OF HUMPTY DUMPTY sponsored by FARAZ AJMAL - RANKED 1ST