Long Benefactors Poems

Long Benefactors Poems. Below are the most popular long Benefactors by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Benefactors poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Blasphemer's Lament

why do so many humans elect to be tended and herded like sheep?

should path to salvation require forfeiting self-determination?

long have golden trim and precious jewels reigned at altars of worship

why do such all powerful gods require so many interpreters?

does enlightenment entail shedding logic and credibility?

nothing's holy about misogyny, bigotry and genocide

what type of belief system relies on second-hand information?

when did blatant hypocrisy and greed become a religious creed?

why do self-proclaimed, loving benefactors require blind allegiance?

accept these articles of faith which are beyond any criticism

should a fixed object of belief be based upon mere speculation?

doesn't require a divine being to do right by humanity

shall continue to choose to believe in that which consciousness reveals
© Ng Rippel  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Monoku


daring men teller of the truth

those daring men of the truth

The Australian who has been in jail for years to avoid
being sent to the USA, where he will get 
further jail terms 
He, I'm sure, is difficult to live with and has little tolerance for
other people's views, it goes with the terrain, famous men 
who fight for the truth tend to be a handful
We in Europe know of his valiant effort to get the truth 
of the war in Syria published
What I don't do the American public know this,
or has the press
made him into a traitor?
We have a man, a protestor, a thorn in Putin's 
side it's said
found dead in his cell. and we, with scant knowledge
we have of Russian affairs, and automatically 
we blame Putin!
this agitator, who appeared to be wealthy or had benefactors
to make it possible for him to travel around protesting
One thinks that Putin, was useful in telling us all how 
democratic Russia is, as the living standard gets better and better
Those who murdered this deluded man are mighty enemies
of President Putin, try to blacken his name and preventing
him for seeking a third bid
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Ibadan

Raise your voice aloud 
And echo that which taints your heart
The days of the chain are laid to rest 
And the closed eyes are made opened


In your order, our light is made to shine
With the scales and sword in your hands, 
Our hope is laid
Not as one daily appraise in our land
But one whose purity is not 
Dented for a porridge's spoon


Ibadan
Hmmm, eba odan
The edge of a meadow
Wake, I am saying wake

Your purity is tainted in silence
And your voice which is 
The essence of your being is laid to rest
The scales and sword are made to bend
That your foes are glorified benefactors

Ibadan
Your worth has been known for ages
It's not surprising that 
Your bravery is second to none
Haven't been a place of refuge for warriors

To know the legal practice is to dwell in you
A citadel of great intelligence
Ibadan mesi ogo
Nile oluyole
Nibiti ole ti n gbejare olohun

Alas
Cast your heart off this
As your call is core 
In making the groan leap for joy
Trust your memory fails you not 

That is your birth the Premier Bar & Uni,
First  AG fed, first and second female SAN
Justices of the apex courts 
No measures were made

Wake oh wake 
The edge of a meadow
Take up your scales, sword and be blind
To that which makes us groan

As the labour of fathers cannot be in vain
Raise your voice so high and be firm
Our nation is mourning your silence

Benefactors of Altruistic Intentions

Benevolent Altruistic Intentions

Benefactors of benevolence breaching the veils of kindness
Abstractions of reverence reaching out beyond the spiritual blindness 
Retractors of inference screeching shouts about the mindlessness
Transactors of temperance teaching about the silence

Omnipresent supernatural beings beyond comprehension 
Fluorescent lighting and scenes that defy logical convention 
Incandescent dreams that inspire surrealist intervention 
Convalescent screams reaching out for a new medical invention 

Altruistic inclinations from the over proceeded few
Alchemistic infiltrations that convert the antiquated to the brand new 
Dualistic invocations that double the meaning of a small few
Narcissistic invitations that seclude the virtue from the slew 

Algorithmic combinations that segregate and manufacture 
Journalistic imitations that propagate too much conjecture 
Synergistic configurations that ameliorate scientific fractures 
Shamanistic invocations that conjure up dream like enrapture 

Abrasive reprehension that formulates a tear in my eye 
Persuasive notes of tension that gather around one about to die 
Invasive comprehension as complexities begin to rise 
Persuasive genuflection that initiates the urge to cry 

The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025
Form: Rhyme

We are the legacy

We are the legacy, 
the original culture and God's benefactors
we are the innovators, the creators
we are the whole verse and chapter 
Black excellent is what we demonstrate 
and how we postulate 
for the Black experience is that which 
so many have tried to emulate

we are the legacy, the longest lasting society
we are the footprint of all humanity
praise forms our identity
we publicly worship Christ 
for we know that God is 
the Alpha and the Omega of all life
in the presence of pressure 
and in moments of despair
we are anxious over nothing
we're a legacy that dares 
in hush harbors we sing songs 
and on those slave ships we prayed
we called on the Father, the Lord our God 
to somehow make a way 

we are the legacy
our identity is rooted in Christ
we know our true worth 
and we don't need anyone's invite
we are this legacy 
we know that God's word 
stands above human justice and all systems 
for His divine authoritative commands 
contain the ultimate wisdom 
Injustice grieves before Him 
when racist rhetoric reads its ugly head 
and systemic racist practices have no power 
over people who are spirit-led.

we are the legacy.
we stay in godly formation
we don't fall, we don't falter 
we move with a divine coordination 
and because God's counsel outlasts 
human plans and machinations 
and as the legacy of the Most High
those plans have never stopped our regeneration
we survived slavery, Jim Crow, the KKK 
and the battle for civil rights
for we are the legacy 
still standing upright in the Lord God's light 

we have sustained, 
we have maintained 
and yes we are still here 
for we are the legacy 
moving in power 
and the spirit of no fear

WE ARE THE LEGACY


Premium Member A Feast For Mosquitoes

A Feast for Mosquitoes

Picking peas in the garden,
My bare forearms a feast for mosquitoes.
With a dozen bites or more,
I think Mother Nature wrote the book
On the Art of War.
Each individual bite
Has its own level of pain.
And each individual bite 
I had given a name.
From the pain in my forearms
I would swear mosquitoes have teeth.

My benefactors garden,
Whose home in which I stay.
He could not help me today,
unfortunately has to many years
of being old and gray.
He felt no pain as my forearms
Became a feast for mosquitoes.
My benefactor got his garden peas,
And the mosquitoes did not rest, 
Until they got their pound of flesh.
Each individual bite had its own level of pain.
With each individual bite 
I spoke my benefactors name.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member If You'Re Invited, Rsvp No

Pieced together
Blood, bone and brain
With another’s parts
Senses bring sparks
Of imagination, inspiration
Insight into the heart
Who is not Frankenstein’s
But his best friend 
And confidant

Pieced together
Naked skin so tender
Silencing the thoughts
Of a heart who is caught
In remembrances of a past
That cannot be brought back
A past filled with light and love
All the good things from up above

But, this is Frankenstein’s Tea Party
And he has the say in what we pray
Will he pray for a new thought
To cover up the lost art
Of camouflage – seeking skin
Wherever he can find it
Will it be you or me?
Will we be the next benefactors
Of that freaky frame
Brought to life by the same air
I breathe – yet, breathed in through
The lungs of some victim of
Frankenstein’s Tea Party

Where did this cadaver come from?
From the deceased who bled, died and left
Parts to be discarded or recycled
By the one who’s tea is soaked in fresh blood

Don’t fall victim to Frankenstein’s Tea party
If you’re invited, RSVP with a “No” reply






Frankenstein tea party 2021 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
July 30, 2021

Premium Member This Docile Earth

This world, never ours alone, but shared with other creatures great and small.
The Earth turns and new dawn comes, and will long after we're gone.
A Sandpiper flitted along the shore and told me so.   

We must face a truth that we borrowed these days, you and I,
from benefactors and trustees, unborn and untested, yet will be.
I finally understand now, watching the selfless Caracal's practiced smile.. 
the tawny red bearded lion basks in the same sunshine.

Touch a heart, lift a soul will you? It's not too late. 
For I have faith we are mostly good.
Now listen to the song of nature, be kind..
and don't worry about what never would.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Healing Metaphor

Mental
mortal traumatic anxiety
is a metaphor for physical pain experience

As anticipating personal therapeutic healing
is analogically connected to absence
of win/lose cultural pathology
in a bad air
anxious atmosphere
climate.

Atheism about sacred healing Benefactors
is not so much a theological position
as it is a disconnected memory,
disembodied experience,
dissociatively anthrosupremacist,
non-panentheistic

In a secularizing monocultural climate
often PatriarchalCapitalist nationalistic,
fear and anger-rooted
cognitive/affective chronic dissonance,
dis-ease,
stress,
detachment from Whole Systemic Healthy EarthMother's
traumatic
laborious
nihilistic experience 
of autonomously stressed-out 
disordered monotheistic 
supremacist inhumanity.

Premium Member Spring Gardens

Nemesis of well tended graveyards
flourish with abundant life—
luscious with nourishing reward.
Birds and worms feast without strife:

basking in the sun are ripe red tomatoes;
rivaled only by the soil’s full bosom potatoes.

Clouds of joy shed quenching spring tears;
Zephyros, Chloris and Carpus have been kind.
Life blooms in fullness without any fears;
butterflies daily hovering to rest and dine.

Only nature could have crafted such budding plots;
allowing us to be their plowing handmaidens;
and benefactors of their yielding—healing crops.
Blessed are we to have these earthly spring havens.

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