Long Bishop Poems
Long Bishop Poems. Below are the most popular long Bishop by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bishop poems by poem length and keyword.
The Court of 64
had declared war
thus ending all debate.
The king regarding
not a thing
for loyal subjects' fate
in haste decreed
his ivory breed
to crush the ebon stained.
The queen who'd seen
it all routine
was in no part entertained
by an army dyed
in monochrome pride
for honor, king and state.
But knights would fight
to prove their might
on steeds of awkward gait.
With shield and sword
the onyx horde
would be reduced to ash.
Bishops looked up
from hallowed cup
eyes slanting through the clash.
In fervent prayer
one bishop stared
but by doomed happenstance
A rook mistook
his sanguine look
for orders to advance.
With pious trust
their columns rushed
to prove convictions good.
The pawns marched on
their fates foregone
and fell as lumber would.
And so serfs and lords
upon checkered boards
were forced to abdicate
until king fell
to final bell
and but a word, "checkmate"
I think I must be seeing things
Before me stand the four of kings,
They shuffle when the Bishop brings
Annette upon nine raven wings
And Beanie rides a sea serpent
And wonders where the yellow went;
I go to pay the next day’s rent,
Where have they taken my new tent?
The bandstand kids look like Dick Clark,
Turn on the lights, I’m in the dark,
I’m standing in Grand Central Park,
A worm has caught a purple lark
And Kookie has run out of combs
So rents out rooms in old maid’s homes,
He has B.O. where ere he roams
So buys some spray and sells his tomes,
To your friend Ralph, yes you know who,
The one who should be in a zoo;
He sells used cars upon the tube
To each and every simple boob
And if he gives you stomach ache
Then Alkaseltzer’s what you take
And Bufferin too if you’re a rake,
Thus hath the Johnny Carson spake
Do I need a cigarette?
A camel says before me yet
‘yes, Luckys is the brand to get,
Be a he man, don’t you fret’
‘there must be worser ways to die
So buy brand X, give it a try’;
Just then another bird walks up
And asks me what I feed my pup
Then puts a nickel in my cup
And tells me I am full of crup
Of where I am, I’m unaware;
Why are the people all so square?
Who is standing over there?
He says he’s here to take my fare
But I’m not going anywhere,
Besides I feel my pockets bare
‘Well then I guess you must have paid’
At this I start to get afraid,
I think my mind will start to fade,
Then Hogen’s Heros make a raid,
Upon my sensibilities
And now it’s clear why each eye sees
So many people climbing trees;
It aint because of hungry fleas
As Tarzan swings upon a rope
I find I start to give up hope;
Jack Webb has started smoking dope
So now the crooks no longer mope
And Perry Mason kicks a judge
But finds the law will never budge
Unless big business gives a nudge
To Popeye selling ice cream fudge
At this I really have to rush
To our old john so I can flush
So far away this vacant mush
Before my teeth I start to brush
Then Josephine comes to my view
And says ‘I want to talk to you
Have you scrubbed your sink anew?
Your mop I think needs some shampoo’
I said ‘I think you are the plumber
And no one else was ever dumber
You’ve put me on another bummer’
My feelings start to get much number
continued in part 2>
Earth
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Coy the myth ..
Earth.. birth has brought you here.
Your status qou will unfold
On adventure either as king or queen, mr president, bishop or cardinal.
A branded tennis player, a balanced balarina, thief or theatrical liar you can be.
Bee's will sting you and charming bird's will sing for you.
You will greet friend's and enemy's make.
Earth a greatest story ever told you will regular hear.
Earth there be water, sun and moon light.
You be baptized, discussed and dispised.
Earth will boil and there be many a justice not satisfied.
On earth they say ..
" To be or not to be .. that is the question " as you move from ugly duckling to clean cut soldier or go on and perish like a hermit crabbing everywhere.
A nobel winner you win be or a rebel in causes.
Earth has a live right algorithm printed in a bible.
Earth O earth thy mysteries to behold ..
Like Picasso's donning the wall's.
Pudding tree's and feeding seas there be.
The enduring pleasures of fruitful is fulfilled and multiplied without love.
We have mortal divinity for idols and yet none for our creator.
Father, Son and Holy Spirit is often forgotten.
Earth .. here
A shepherd you will need and shelter of a mom without a dad , brother or friend in either care or be derelect.
Give alms to many on Earth and your gateway to heaven is secured.
At our end the rock's on Earth will have aged as we cleft to hold on longer.
Still the waves will always team to shore even after many survival thrillers.
Astronauts went up and ships down.
There have been quakes and volcano's
Earth not to be conquered ..
Earth will stand.
Earth not a myth
Earth rotates and the seasons change.
Earth not digital controlled.
Each soul adores it's life.
Earth superb ..
Where to from here
O Lord
Bring me back once more ..
Though I had such a hard time here
But...
There was
Rock 'n Roll.
Sam made it into Rugby School from Bishop Wulstan,
To study A-Level English, History and Economics, days,
For entry into Loughborough University, a sportsman,
Where he took International Relations about our ways.
There he played American football amongst able-bodied,
And was spotted by British Athletics for the Paralympics,
So he competed in the 2012s in the T35 100m embodied,
But missed out on the final by only a few split seconds, 0.6.
Then in the 200 metres in 3 days he ran a PB of 28.75,
But he changed track to become a shot putter on field,
In the 2014 IPC European Championships he did strive,
Such that he’s in the Rio team and backs the CP wield.
“Moves are slower, concentration intense, as style and wits are pitted.
Finally, the remaining white knight makes a brilliant challenge admitted.
The black king weak from the affray, a pawn keeps danger at bay.
With its faithful pawn black has employed the en passant rule of play”
~~The Poet~~
White to move the game begins.
A battle to the end, only one wins.
Black knight enters the arena, strategically placed.
Every move pondered, no need for haste.
Bishop dressed in white has something up his sleeve.
Pawns protecting their black king will not leave.
The board is a battleground with not a man falling.
Each piece is intent on acting in the manner of forestalling.
The clock is thunderously pressed demanding motion.
White’s Bishop is poised ready to attack with a deadly notion.
The black queen sweeps vigorously to capture the white rook.
A move not expected and now the opposition takes a long look.
Eying an opportunity to seek revenge, the knight seizes a play to check.
Unable to castle while in check, king has to move aside to save his neck.
The battle continues, the fighting is fierce. Casualties on each side
The White side lamented the demise of their queen with a touch of pride.
One almighty onslaught as that crafty white bishop waiting in the wings.
Finally approaches with his diagonal dart, no mercy it brings.
Unable to muster the manpower to beat his foe, he is in a woeful state.
The black king must sacrifice his queen, but one more move its checkmate.
i stood over looking
the general view
of the bath of caracalla
evading sudatorium seduction
the church of st. cesarea
in palatio captured my thoughts
rather quickly i entered
sarcphagus of lucius scipio barbatus
dazed i was gently lifted
hovering above columbarium
of villa codini ah my human sufferage
unleashed near the arch of drusus
i found myself kneeling
beyond the gate of st. sebastian
how i'd remembered
the findings of the church
of domine quo vadis
welcoming of monks settled
deeply within catacombs
of st. callistus the fine
chapel of cornelius
the bishop winks at the sight
of cecilia's remains hisses of trickery
a covenant maderno's manner
lessons and arrows embedded
amids sebastians sculpture
ravished by greif
for giorgetti's finali catacombs
and tombs surrounding
my morbid energy force
abruptly backing right into
circus of mexentius shouting
metella metella open
the appian way
seneca's revealed
the tower of selce in ruins
Chorus:
The countryside rambler refused to be confined
in an institution of experimentation and be abused;
escaping civilization was her will to find freedom,
to see the new spring bloom and chase butterflies:
all she wanted was to ramble in her peaceful kingdom,
where she was free to create her own happiness!
Verse I
Many don't know why Linda Bishop was afraid;
her strange personality made her helpless and frail,
and unable to burn all the bridges she crossed,
she held on her firm belief that freedom wasn't Hell!
Verse II
Linda Bishop, challenged every doctor in the psychatric world...
refusing what it offered to make her feel alive and do better;
her mental disease was advanced and needed to be cured,
pills were the only alternative to make her a prisoner forever!
Verse III
And in that room where demons gathered daily
to break her fearless spirit, she planned revenge:
never giving in and allowing others to change
her outlook on life and mainly her delusive reality!
Verse IV
Linda Bishop defied a society that believed in medication,
she broke from it and wandered in that wilderness all winter;
surviving on water and apples she picked in cool October...
some wonder how she spent her time in bleaky desolation?
Verse V
Linda's fate was an aweful one, she was found dead by a dim burning log
in an old farmhouse wearing a coat that sheltered her from the bitter cold;
she was a hermit who sought no sympathy, perhaps her faith in our Lord
was stronger than anyone who ever lived in solitude, finding comfort in song!
Written on 5/7/2017
Truth be told
I no longer want deaths and wars
Come part the horizon, Jesus
Christ come now to receive us
If there were a Santa I want only just to know his true origin
What I want for Christmas, love and freedom
Twas just a mist, history insist
The Legend of St. Nicholas
Give me thoughts of prayers
To pray for my fellow humans
If there were a Santa I want only just to know his true origin
What I want for Christmas, is for Jesus to come down
Lo O’ fourth-century bishop
Monk named St. Nicholas
Born sometime around 280 A.D.
In Patara, near Myra in modern-day Turkey
If there were a Santa I want only just to know his true origin
What I want for Christmas is for Saint Nicholas to pray with me
Admired for his piety and kindness,
Of many legends called also Father Christmas
You can meet Santa Claus cross the magical Arctic Circle
In Rovaniemi in Lapland, Finland official
You see if there be a Santa, all I want from him
Is to pray for me, for Christ to grant me longevity of life…
Now what do you want for Christmas in this life
12/7/19
What You Want For Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Gregory Paul
I asked our local Unitarian-Universalist minister
if she could see God
as Original Creative Source of Earth (OCSE).
Eventually,
after a rather long pause,
peaceful, not anxiety producing,
she said Yes.
I asked the Shiloh Baptist Bishop
if he could know God
as Abba,
as did Jesus of Nazareth.
He thought about this,
a rather odd yet warm paternal question,
perhaps a trick?
a test?
But, eventually, trusted us enough
to add his Yes.
I asked the All Souls U-U minister,
Would she be willing to imagine,
to heuristically assume,
for the next hour,
that what she feels inside
and believes outside,
what she hopes and faiths,
compassions as dynamic OCSE
might be, or at least slowly become,
synonymous with the more patriarchal sounding Abba,
perhaps yangish Abba
to her OCSE yintegral felt intelligence.
She found this a lot to take in
hold
juggle
and yet listen and speak with integrity
all in this unsafe time of confrontation.
But, Why not?
she asked, rhetorically,
I assumed.
Then I asked the Shiloh Baptist Bishop
the same question,
in reverse,
with Abba still as yang
and OCSE as yin
This felt appropriate,
and not really unorthodox
and therefore theologically safe,
to AfricanAmerican him,
so he said Yes, of course,
history supports an AfroCentric
Original Creative Source
for all human natures.
From there
They seemed to enjoy co-discovering
ecological analogies
for theological regeneration
and degeneration
And theological metaphors
for ecological healing
and wounding fracture.
With nothing much more for me to do
as multicultural mediator of eco/theo-logical peace
restoring win/win polyphonic justice,
I began outlining
how we might join our choirs
in con-celebration,
singing gospel anthems
while engaging our combined sacred Body
in tai-chi creative stretches
into and back out of
fluid mindbody positions,
Heuristically inviting
and grace-fully given.
Looking into the water I can see the face of a person that has always enjoyed nature.
I know what you are thinking, you are wondering if it is my reflection.
That ship has already set sail to a dry mountain like the one in Turkey.
The face I see is of a person with cornflower hair.
What a mystery that I would see someone with these qualities as mine are from the largest continent, more specifically in the South.
Roses are the most beautiful when they bloom in the South this includes South and Southeast Asia.
The person I see is a tumbleweed that moves from different places and never knows where to call home, her home.
A tragedy has occurred that has left her in grief and in confusion; a time of evaluation that has involved the analytical thinker of the Damned!
Your words of hopelessness and where the future lies when you are given a site farther away from your hometown is quite troubling as it is telling me that you are only focusing on the latter of your stays and not on the truth.
Are you truly here when you say you are? Or Are you there every time you are sent out on an assignment? It is quite possible that a drive of nearly a day would make you think about what you want in life.
Being in a state of hopelessness has led the Ravens of Odin to tell me that you are a Red Herring, similar to Bishop Aringosa. Being forever alone was your fear or it has become the self-fulfillment of your life.
How many men have you said that statement to and how close were you to them is a concept that I have started to question. It is possible that they felt forced and that you are living a lie of a mental patient without medication.
All we can do is be friends and nothing more as my Aunt Odalys stated, “Sometimes it is better to have that one friend you cared about.”
I would have never believed that you would burn bridges before they could start to take shape. I already know the answer.
Even my family has started to see through the veil you have cast. If you cannot win the heart of the Italo-Spagnolo Hungarian Mother then it would be difficult for the Unity.
You have become the Red Herring of Colorado
Are you truly looking for my heart or have you been lying to me?
I ask this while I am looking into the Arkansas River at the Raptor Center.
Do not lie to me! I already know the answer! I am looking for the integrity of the answer.