Long Banquets Poems
Long Banquets Poems. Below are the most popular long Banquets by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Banquets poems by poem length and keyword.
Vast sums of money
enormous chunks of time
All spent on losing weight ~
usually ruined by dinnertime
It's really quite easy
now I know that sounds cheezy
But here's the one thing that works, brother
Sell your car today, and don't buy another
You'll walk everywhere
have little time to spare
for banquets and luncheons
or to lie around potato chip munchin'
And even if this radical step doesn't work
you have my personal guarantee
I'll sell your car back to you for what you took from me
~ sure enjoyed driving it for free
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when in a famished state I hunt,
In pastures green and lush with abundance,
He renews my spry and exuberance.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
In gardens of drought He will fortune plant.
He leads to quiet pools of fresh water
from which I draw strength and endless laughter.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He does my requests for pleasant paths grant.
Even when to deepest darkness I stray,
He lovingly paves a most glorious way.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when my foes seek my life to hunt,
His rod and staff give me all the comfort
that allay my fears of every discomfort.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He does my sumptuous feasts and banquets flaunt
for my blood thirsty adversaries to see
from abased locations on bended knee.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when Satan tries my soul to haunt,
His goodness and mercy will follow me
until His heavenly abode I see.
Of
splendid
thrones of
gold
Of
treasures
manifold
Of Sultans
and Shahs
Of Emirs
and Rajahs
Of
jewelled
caskets
or lavish
banquets
Of
sparkling
crowns
and
flowing
gowns
Of kings
and queens
Rulers and
emperors
Of their
subservient
stewards
and
obedient
butlers
Or the
servile
knaves
and
stalwart
squires
Of the
peons and
minions
pages and
pavilions
Of castles
and palaces
of
abounding
gold and
silver
in
ostentatious
regal
splendour
Ah the
fanning
maids in
waiting
Yet to me
one thing
worth
more
noticing
The poet
minstrels
who came
to sing
from afar
for the
queen and
king
For I'd
rather be a
poet for
kings
so to my
tunes
swayed
the
kingdom
than I be
the king
of mere
subjects
and be filled with regal
boredom!
So I could join ranks of
troubadours
and sing for the king
some folklores
For words are the heart of imagination
Inviting to poetic fascination.
(form Troubadour) Ars poetica
How can one man find
More faith in a crevasse of Siula Grande,
Than most will ever know,
Sitting beneath a pulpit on Sunday?
Dulling the truth to grow the census,
Merchants and cowards comfort the carnal ear.
Marketing Christ’s love without his conviction,
Left willful in sin with nothing to fear.
In half doctrines and custom alter calls,
Prostituting the truth with all forms of prosperity.
Akin to seeding hookers in the chambers of Heaven.
Deceived to death twice by hand and blasphemy.
Feeding wolves from among your own flocks.
In the banquets of ancient mystics and bride Blavatsky,
Word of Faith gorging on their mammon,
Left choking in an insatiable eternity.
A culture’s blue concessions are gone,
Giving more choices leaving Paul’s letters unread.
No church discipline or discernment left,
Testaments of burning flesh that once bled.
Refusing to submit to be broken.
Fading old blessings from past obedience.
Confusing favor with common grace,
Hypocrisy’s retribution birthed decadence.
Millions claiming the found life of the few,
In every eulogy and requiem,
Lukewarm afterthoughts of the Son,
Losing everything by never knowing him.
Despising the light of the living truth,
Lobotomizing guilt with the scalpel of ignorance.
Finding solace in the darkness of mystery.
Death marches infectious rainbows of tolerance.
Redefining roles and covenants in hemorrhaging lies
Under the pretense of the modern states,
Illusions of enlightenment killing somatic slaves.
Relativism’s heart courting the things he hates.
Enticed by the delusions of utopias,
Bound in the fables of autonomy.
Throats upon The two-edged sword,
In this American tragedy
-------------------------------------------------------
12.04.14
This poem attempts to capture the Fundamentalist view on certain issues with other movements within Christianity. Also, the man in the crevasse, chose a different kind of faith than you may have assumed.
Sustain me with faith to increase the sweetness of inner joy,
let my eager palate taste the freshness of these citrons...
as love overflows the walls of the humblest and sincerest heart:
o beautiful maidens...like the swift gazelles and hinds,
don't awaken any amorous desire in me before its time!
On His left arm I find rest, as His right arm embraces me;
my Lord is the eternal keeper, His voice vibrates over mountains and hills
and keeps me safe from the dangers and impurities of the world...
shielding me from the tears, sorrows and pains given to the sinners.
The fig trees have been fruitful and give off their fragrance,
every vine is blossoming..." Get up, my chosen one, my just one and come away!"
He speaks to me saying, " Come away, faithful one...all suffering is done,
my grace is upon you: the flowers have bloomed in the fields;
rejoice and sing your praises to me! Hear my voice roaring through the Holy Land!"
O my Holy one, I long to see your shining and glorious face
in the Mount Sinai and hear Your loud voice speak with a tone of kindness.
Cast away the thieves and envious ones who spoil the vineyards...
will they bring forth good wine that I will serve at banquets?
My Lord is mine and I am His delight, He guides His flock among innocents
and until the dawn has fully risen and all shadows have vanished:
become my Savior and like the gazelle or tender stag climbing rugged terrain,
a messenger or child will unexpectedly come to accomplish Your work.
I do bitterly fault your restless digits, slatternly time;
Your agile dial's design I defy with mutinous rhyme.
What's the veiled intent of your lightning procession,
Against this snail-mover's beleaguered progression?
In swearing truth say why your sight-eclipsing wings
Party and feast and conjure merry over littler beings.
What sadistic banquets in spooky nooks yonder,
Turn your lot-dwindling schemes ever so fonder?
It's true your snaring turns I strongly loathe,
With damning sneers and deserving derision.
What's that blot against heaven's sternest troth,
Obliterating dancing suns on her creasing face?
To what main gain do your life-slicing edges fly,
Usurping innocent freedoms of humble breath?
Your mulish cruises along snaky course-ways,
Flare spite-perfected ills to slay slowing health.
With daring tropes I’ll yet trim hours’ blacking crime,
And I’ll chide the deadly glooms of carnivorous time.
“Praise the Lord, and pass the ammunition”
The Jihadist have one thing right...
One does not die, but lives always:
one's immortal body, the spirit of his
predilections. What they have wrong is,
no virgins and banquets...only the
continued fires of hell....
And we others, the so called
moral righteous, protect the body, as if
it were not a temporary abode, and the earth
no battlefield, though jointly created,
by friend and foe,
outside the roses exhibiting
moral depravities indignant of our shared
anemia – 1 percent proof, when it comes
to Spiritual development –
Like it or not:
No one gets
to true paradise
before
everyone else.
Wandering the maze of sanity
has now become a harsh challenge
to the psyche as insanity fuels
itself with echoing bigotry
soaring like starving hawks
while vultures are daily treated
to sights of warm human appetizers
laying out on blood-stained turf tables.
If only lives could be as treasured
and as recyclable as are old cold weapons
of war that continues to be allowed
to seek the devouring warmness of life.
The yellow roses in a lone star field of dreams
droop in waters of tears and dried blood;
long-horned cows and egrets go about symbiotically,
as wagon train-like funeral processions pass by:
Meanwhile, congress-persons attend NRA banquets.
Forts and Castles
Carved stones shooting up so high in the sky,
Forts and castles dazzle the doubtful eyes,
Old and yet strong, they have a tale to tell,
Tale of splendour that keep us under spell.
Walls of forts so thick, a sturdy stronghold,
Keeping safe, men and women, young and old,
Fortified with soldiers, brave with swords bright,
Are set to guard their land with all their might.
Within castles lies a bustling place,
People moving, steadily at their pace,
Ladies dancing, in traditional gowns,
Listening to sweet music, gentle sounds.
Kings or queens in crowns of gold rule the sway,
Humorous stories, whispered everyday,
Sumptuous banquets held in halls so grand,
With lavish food and drink, more for the band.
Now forts and castles stand in quiet grace,
Mostly a memory of time and place,
National heritage, weathered, by years,
Whispering silent secrets through our ears.
Apple many varieties sweet and sour
Banana soft fruit many uses
Cherry's are sweet watch out for its stone
Damson like a juicy plum
Elderberry fragrant good in wine
Fig many seeded fruit
Grapefruit similar to oranges but tarter
Honeydew melon lovely juicy type of gourd
Indian gooseberry good in pies
Jostaberry a cross between gooseberry, black gooseberry and black currant
Kiwi a tasty green fruit
Lemon can be very tart
Mango juicy fruit with delicate flavour
Nectarine similar to a peach
Orange sweet and juicy usually full of pips
Papaya also known as pawpaw
Quince very sharp like a lime
Raspberry most useful at banquets
Strawberry and ice-cream a summer delight
Tomato both used as a fruit and vegetable
Ugli fruit a gourd like fruit thats tasty
Valancia orange small sweet fruit that packs a punch
Water melon another gourd like fruit
Ximenia Caffra is like a very sour plum
Yellow passion fruit is similar to passion fruit normally cooked as a curd
Zucchini flowers often cooked in batter