Long Blazon Poems
Long Blazon Poems. Below are the most popular long Blazon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blazon poems by poem length and keyword.
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on;
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on, walk on. . .
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on to heaven;
With my hands raised I'm gonna praise in
With my hands raised I'm going praising;
With my hands raised I'm gonna praise in;
Walking, walking on in, on to heaven;
Gonna march, march, march and run...
Got my shoes on I'm gonna shut my mouth and start prayin;
Gonna march, march, march and run;
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on
Walk right on into heaven;
Gonna praise, praise and praise pray to Him;
Gonna praise, praise and praise pray to Him;
won't need nobody to show me how, to praise and praise and praise Him;
Him whom created the air I breathe;
Him he whom even given me all that I need
Him who grants me liberty and freedom;
Gonna praise, praise and praise pray to Him on my knees;
And when I thought gonna put my shoes on and walk right on into heaven;
Gonna walk on to glory;
For God is the infinite story;
I read His words,
This is one way He's heard;
Gonna read and obey His word;
I'm gonna walk, walk, walk, on to heaven;
Put my shoes on, march on to Zion
On those streets of gold;
Go where Michael rode;
On a golden chariot;
Blazon feats of glory of my Lord King Jesus;
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on;
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on, walk on. . .
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on to heaven;
With my hands raised I'm gonna praise in
With my hands raised I'm going praising;
With my hands raised I'm gonna praise in;
Walking, walking on in, on to heaven;
Gonna march, march, march and run...
Got my shoes on I'm gonna shut my mouth and start prayin;
Gonna march, march, march and run;
With my shoes on I'm gonna walk on
Walk right on into heaven;
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.(c)2007,2017
July 26 2007
From anthology "More Than An Apple Tree"2007
We are mere mortals with an uncertain destiny
at the mercy of time and of fates that be
but dearest, I will remain forever true to thee
For it's you I will love, I avow this faithfully
I will hold you close unto my soft breast
press my warm lips to yours upon behest
croon thee to slumber when in need of rest
bathe you in the ocean's waves as they crest
Though death may blazon to me in the night
shackled, we shall remain in chains held tight
never will I be enticed away from your sight
nor will a grave ever become our dividing blight
No reaper's scythe shall keep you from me
from this heart of mine, you will never be free
as rooted fast in the Earth's richest soil, a tree
our hearts will be entwined for all eternity
Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love? Quote by Fulton J. Sheen
Nature has no underdogs, myths may be false,
Those with no love seem to be caught in a waltz.
To adjust our hurdles, we meticulously rehearse,
We reject being wounded in this erratic universe.
Our faith appears to have lasted since antiquity,
Being pulled by the wind, unfettered by eternity.
We are bound by the rules of nature's— sway,
Not ready to face even the least severe decay.
Hands were utterly washed in widows' tears,
Too often, resonating gunfire rippled in my ears.
Fear has numbed souls as an effect of swift hope,
I'm aware we may prevail over all this via scope.
Plainly, the soldiers' wounds are spewing blood,
And ooze as mud in a leader's spring-tide flood!
The white in the house is turning a rich crimson,
And it appears that our freedom can't be won.
As they said, we have a slim chance of winning,
We'll never prevail over hate in the mind's sting.
We're in a quagmire over the filth we've been told,
Yet further soldiers rise into a cloud—cold.
Broken spirits drenched in bloody destiny,
Frustrated by the final result for evil zestily.
Chronic delusions of woebegone escape,
Vociferating boisterously below Liberty scrape
A cloudless sky is charred by a radiant, bright light,
And charcoal floats up, stroking my dangling feet.
Below lies a blazon of bleak, dark, stinging plight,
The dead, however, have no awareness of defeat.
Many wounds whisper in our view as we get near.
As the earth weeps alone, seek renewal with tear.
Finding our kin who were sold on the dark web,
Untruth now flows, and people's faith does ebb.
1St Place Contest Winner
Written: May 22, 2023
This or That, Vol 18 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
I am the axiomatic master of my fate; the King of Maxim state.
I sit on a throne of axions, maintaining discrete time symmetry to keep my line in place.
With ordained and sovereign rule, I rise to the dominion of my life’s decisions; even when they do not translate to my intentions.
Blazon insignias are inscribed by my position.
Posed by social status and affluence, alongside it a physical constitution.
Each of us having idiosyncrasies by means of paradox.
As if to say I'm right handed and made of left handed particles, with momentum opposite to intrinsic spin.
By what parity could this arise?
Alas a vast enigma, derived by the perceptions of body soul and mind.
At ease and at odds to forego and prevail.
In concert of my peers, I will unsheathe the Magnus Opus and uncover the vale.
The ignorance of our own empowerment that I overtly forswear, and so goes on the allegorical tale.
It’s given narrative defeated, torn to tatters by The Sword of Gale.
We are but mortals with uncertain destiny
at the mercy of time and of fates that be
but dearest, I'll remain forever true to thee
For tis you I shall love, I avowal faithfully
I shall hold you close unto my soft breast
press my warm lips to thine at your behest
croon thee to slumber when in need of rest
bathe you in the sea's waves as they crest
Though death may blazon to me at night
shackled, we shall be in chains held tight
n 'ere shall I be enticed far from thy sight
nay, no grave ever be our dividing blight
No reaper's scythe shall keep you from me
from this heart of mine thy shan't be free
as rooted fast in Earth's richest soil, a tree
ere our hearts be entwined for all eternity.
I race for summer's setting sun
as crimson bleed the alder leaves
and still I run. And still I run.
My rival, time, is yet undone.
Past pyramids of flaxen sheaves
I race for summer's setting sun
across the low unbroken run.
Each cow out in the pasture grieves
and still I run. And still I run.
In late September’s crisp blazon
my heart to fragile hope now cleaves.
I race for summer's setting sun.
With slaughter of the calves begun
I fled beneath the killing eaves
and still I run. And still I run.
Our time on earth is under gun.
My burning chest now breathless heaves.
I race for summer's setting sun
and still I run. And still I run.
10/24/17
Ripples
Down the dusty road,
in tattered rags,
He came,
weary,
wilted,
and
withered.
Body bent with age,
bones sticking out of the flabby skin,
with a tremor
running down his limbs.
With eyes reflecting hope,
he waited at my doorstep.
No words came out from pursed lips
but,
in mute language
begged for alms,
hopeful he would never be betrayed
I held his shriveled hand,
helped him ascend the steps.
Like a child obeying it’s Elder,
he sat on a chair in the patio.
The sumptuous fare, served before,
he surveyed with eyes
bulging out in utter disbelief,
and greedily devoured
every bit of morsel.
A rare gleam lighted up his face.
With hands folded in benison
he stood up and silently took leave.
I watched him stumble
along the country track
and fade away in the distance.
Ripples of joy stirred my mind
in ever widening circles
as, a pebble idly tossed
causes ripples in still waters
over a random act of kindness
idly tossed !
Kindness
Down the dusty road, in tattered rags he came-
An old man- weary, wilted, and withered.
Supported on a stick, still he staggered lame,
And with age and fatigue, his body quivered.
I could see a tremor running down his hips.
With expectant eyes, he waited at my doorstep.
No words came out of his pursed lips.
He was tottering as he took each step.
I held his hand, helped him to the patio.
Like a child obeying its elder, he sat on a chair
With eyes sending out a radiant glow,
From the sumptuous fare served, he ate his share.
As he finished his meal, a gleam lighted up his face.
He stood up with hands folded in benison
And took leave, bowing and smiling in grace.
I was so happy that I could make his world blazon.
I watched him stumble along the uneven track
And fade away like a shadow in the distance.
So elated I was that the tears of joy I couldn’t hold back,
With an ebullience penetrating my mind’s outer surface.
As a pebble idly tossed cause ripples in still water,
A random act of kindness idly tossed gave me such delight.
As the ripples keep widening and on the banks splatter,
In me, the joy over my kind act, as waves began to beat.
Down the dusty road, in tattered rags he came-
An old man- weary, wilted, and withered.
Supported on a stick, still staggering lame,
With age and fatigue, his body quivered.
I could see a tremor running down his hips.
With expectant eyes, he waited at my doorstep.
No words came out of his pursed lips.
He was tottering as he took each step.
I held his hand, helped him to the patio.
Like a child obeying its elder, he sat on a chair
With eyes sending out a radiant glow,
From the sumptuous fare served, he ate his share.
As he finished his meal, a gleam lighted up his face.
He stood up with hands folded in benison
And took leave, bowing and smiling in grace.
I was so happy, I could make his world blazon.
I watched him stumble along the uneven track
And fade away like a shadow in the distance.
So elated l was. Tears of joy I couldn’t hold back,
With an ebullience penetrating mind’s outer surface.
As a pebble idly tossed causes ripples in still water,
A random act of kindness idly tossed gave me such delight.
As the ripples keep widening and on the banks splatter,
In me, the joy over my kind act as waves, began to beat.
crown petals unfold for lofty Light
fontanelle gaping softly smile
Centre Point’s hole blazon mile
pineal connects as conical way
to galactic edenic binomial rays
loosens ovuliferous scales honed
thyroid equalises, tongue relaxes
cylinder opens larynx true blue
speech becomes intended hues
heart softens atria, ventricles
valves linking doors of paradise
protected golden it rhapsodises
coin-line verticle-horizontal spherical
solar plexus flowers monumental near
mystical super might no incidentals
feed flows smooth for tantric beats
sacral seat in creativity knowing heat
power is orange action satisfaction
rooted into Earth mooted primordial
authentic estate mirthful immemorial
aligned connection very refined
~~~~~~~~~~
I sing the song of yesterday
When all was truth and light
A time when love was really love
And every dream was bright
I sing the song of yesterday
When youth was virile, strong
A time of joy and happiness
When nothing could go wrong
I sing the song of yesterday
When passion burned with fire
A time when making love was rife
With hunger and desire
I sing a song of yesterday
When beauty reigned supreme
A time when luscious lips would laugh
And blazon every dream
I sing a song of yesterday
When my love was true to me
A time of sweet contentedness
I wish THAT time would be
Jade Celeste