Long Caesar Poems
Long Caesar Poems. Below are the most popular long Caesar by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Caesar poems by poem length and keyword.
He was the Lamb that had to be slaughtered
during the Passover and without Calvary, there wouldn't have been any salvation;
nothing would have forgiven our unpardonable sin!
Christ, as Isaiah prophesied, came when Jerusalem
was in dire need of a king who promised freedom!
The Romans were the conquerors with that mighty sword,
but only the defiant Barabbas waged war against Caesar with many a rebellion!
Many say that we shouldn't venerate the cross which Jesus died upon,
but without the presence of that cross, we couldn't have been saved;
Jesus' blood gushed from it, to stain the rocks below, and wash all inequities away...
and the weeping and wailing of His mother Mary deepened when Christ expired,
as the earthquake jolted Jerusalem's streets and Temple,
to even make the envious and skeptical Priests tremble,
the radiant sun became invisible as darkness covered all;
and was it a coincidence or the undeniable fact that God Himself showed us His mercy?
We haven't carried the heavy wooden cross through Jerusalem and being whipped,
and laughed at; and we haven't seen those women cry for the Christ whom they heard speak;
and we haven't felt the agony of the most atrocious hour that He endured for us all!
An impostor wouldn't have suffered and died to become the Redeemer they awaited,
a liar wouldn't have glorified His Father and preached a Gospel that offered much hope;
History was changed at Golgotha, and human kindness nurturing divine love triumphed!
Lord Jesus, many heard you speak on the Mountain and beheld what we could not!
Lord Jesus, Andrew and John stood by you and comforted Your Mother with their tears!
As you promised the good thief...Lord, remember us, too when we testify in Your favor
or die for Your sake! Paradise awaits us, and all who believe in goodness, not evil;
the excruciating crucifixion was predestined, not being staged by Man who hated love,
it had to happen in order for Humanity to reconcile with their forsaken God of Israel!
We can never be worthy for Your sacrifice, unless we become the messengers of true faith...
to uphold truth and dignify love as you often did in words and deeds!
If we forget Your passion, nothing can magnify the purpose of Your death;
and without a shepherd, this flock will aimlessly roam among rocks and weeds!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
I am but an ordinary woman resting in my easy chair after a long day of work.
However I am about to transform myself into a great explorer.
I travel through the many realms of space and time all from the safety of home.
My journeys cost me nothing but time spent in their enjoyment.
I close my eyes tightly to contemplate whom I shall visit this night.
Shall I sup with King Arthur and the knights of the table round as bards entertain,
Or feast on nectar and ambrosia with Zeus and Hera on Mount Olympus?
I could feel the angst of Cyrano’s unconfessed love for Lady Roxanne,
Or that of souls from Poe’s pen with his mocking raven quote it “nevermore.”
Choose to learn the life cycle of the bee, lion, or bear through a scientific work,
Or fly through space on a star ship with the creator of a masterpiece of science fiction.
I can recapture the whimsy of childhood while chasing cars with Clifford the big red dog,
Or take a brisk run with Pooh and Tigger through the hundred-acre wood.
I may celebrate glorious new beginnings with Mother Mary and Baby Jesus,
This holy birth portrayed forever within our sacred Bible.
I might also choose to contemplate death along with Caesar during his last moments.
Only the playwright Shakespeare could portray these with such tragic effect.
I may discover the secrets of gourmet recipes from master chefs,
Or learn how to sew a patchwork quilt of old fashion.
Vicariously visit the culture and religion of various peoples,
Or study the history of my fellow Americans.
Maybe I should check the financial reports to see how the stock market is doing,
Or it might be pertinent to examine the latest advances in law.
Let me discover the origins of favorite words in a volume of etymology,
Or distinguish quartz from quartzite whilst leafing through a book of gemology.
Books, yes volumes hold the secret keys to my voyage,
It is they that conduct me each night worldwide exploring.
I need not to plan ahead pack luggage or gather tickets,
Fore when I wish to escape this world a book is always close at hand.
I may travel safe and undisturbed through numerous times and places,
And leap out of one adventure headlong into the next without moving a limb.
When I am weary from the road or have chased enough beasts as warier fine,
I simply mark my place, fold the pages together gently, and retire to sweet sleep.
Cowards die many times before their deaths…
Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene 2 ~William Shakespeare
spouse
a souse
classic grouse
a big girl's blouse
portent ominous
assertions blasphemous
obscure and anonymous
his skulking is nefarious
utterances acrimonious
and implicature often dubious
uxorious but still pusillanimous
**********************************
An example of a rhopalic verse.
Rhopalism: A rhopalic sentence is one in which each successive word is one letter longer than the previous one. In poetry: where each word is one syllable more, or it might increase each line in a stanza by one syllable (per my example), or a metric foot.
IN THE SAME CATEGORY OF CONSTRAINED WRITING
The Rhopalic Couplet, also called Wedge Verse, was first used by Homer in the Iliad (3.182). It is a poetic unit of 2 rhopalic lines where each word progresses adding one more syllable than the preceding word in the line, for example, 1, 2, 3, 4 … syllables. The sequence of the syllable count can be identical in the second line, or it may be reversed. The couplet does not need not rhyme.
_____________________________________________________________
In The Coward, stanzas are broken up along the syllables of the end rhymes: spouse, souse, grouse, blouse; om-i-nous, blas-phe-mous, a-non-y-mous; ne-far-i-ous, ac-ri-mo-ni-ous, du-bi-ous & pu-sil-lan-i-mous.
LEXICON
acrimonious: (adj) (typically of speech or discussion) angry and bitter.
a big girl’s blouse: British idiom, meaning someone is ineffectual or weak; someone failing to show masculine strength of determination
disposition: (n.) inherent characteristics.
grouse: (n.) one who complains constantly.
implicature: (n.)* the action of implying a meaning beyond the literal sense of what is explicitly stated, for example, saying the picture frame is nice and implying I don’t like the picture.
innate: (n.) inborn, natural
nefarious: (adj) (typically of an action or activity) wicked or criminal.
portent: (n.)
1. a sign or warning that a momentous or calamitous event is likely to happen, an omen.
2. (literary) an exceptional or wonderful person or thing. [‘What portent can be greater than a pious notary.’]
pusillanimous: (adj) showing a lack of courage or determination; timid.
souse: (n.) a drunkard.
From the trenches of the dark underground into the sewers of the slumworld, a place terrified with the pain of fear, gripped from their minds unto their souls, they are afraid of the outside world, afraid that death could be their bane at least there was a sorcerer to tell Merlin what Arthur's bane would look like, I lived among these people, the only survivor of my family who were captured and butchered like pieces of meat. For me, the attitude of fear was untraceable in my soul like pieces of heroine, vengeance was the objective I seeked for like the legend of the seeker I sought my own path, my own journey to the outside world to avenge my family but the spirit of assistance was crying out to me like the voices of the hummingbird echoing across the dark forest. In our world, almost everyonelacked the determination and courage to stand up for one another, fear had tortured them for so long, a leader was missing but now found like the prodigal son because I availed myself. I supplied to them the spirit of bravery and confidence, everyone would gather to lend me their listening ears and watch me, both old and young, for a long time we lived in fear, but the time to stand together like the walls of Jericho had arrived. The spirit of guts over fear was very essential at that moment, if only Julio Caesar was still alive, I would hsve learnt more from him, we were seen by the outside world as aliens but that narrative was about to change, the tides of the tsunami were about to turn like a compass, a new wave of strong blood run through our veins like a fountain, we were on a mission, like soldiers we marched like army worms into the outside world seeking redemption of our identity, at least the idea of the silo was wrong because there was life outside, it was a different atmosphere compared to the environment in our world. The citizens were afraid of us, we had worn masks due to our fear then, but no more they were off our faces like the unveiling of a secret, the people saw us for who we were, we scarred but that was the representation of our people, a war could have ensued, my vengeance would be successful, but I remembered what my late father told me, "Every human being, be it tribe, language, ethnicity are all one and so we united with the people, after all were all made from the same creator.
Widsith the Far-Traveler, Part II
ancient Anglo-Saxon poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Hrothulf and Hrothgar, uncle and nephew,
for a long time kept a careful peace together
after they had driven away the Vikings' kinsmen,
vanquished Ingeld's spear-hordes,
and hewed down at Heorot the host of the Heathobards.
Thus I have traveled among many foreign lands,
crossing the earth's breadth,
experiencing both goodness and wickedness,
cut off from my kinsfolk, far from my family.
Thus I can speak and sing these tidings in the mead-halls,
of how how I was received by the most excellent kings.
Many were magnanimous to me!
I was among the Huns and the glorious Ostrogoths,
among the Swedes, the Geats, and the South-Danes,
among the Vandals, the Wærnas, and the Vikings,
among the Gefthas, the Wends, and the Gefflas,
among the Angles, the Swabians, and the Ænenas,
among the Saxons, the Secgan, and the Swordsmen,
among the Hronas, the Danes, and the Heathoreams,
among the Thuringians and the Throndheims,
also among the Burgundians, where I received an arm-ring;
Guthhere gave me a gleaming gem in return for my song.
He was no gem-hoarding king, slow to give!
I was among the Franks, the Frisians, and the Frumtings,
among the Rugas, the Glomms, and the Romans.
I was likewise in Italy with Ælfwine,
who had, as I'd heard, commendable hands,
fast to reward fame-winning deeds,
a generous sharer of rings and torques,
the noble son of Eadwine.
I was among the Saracens and also the Serings,
among the Greeks, the Finns, and also with Caesar,
the ruler of wine-rich cities and formidable fortresses,
of riches and rings and Roman domains.
He also controlled the kingdom of Wales.
I was among the Scots, the Picts and the Scrid-Finns,
among the Leons and Bretons and Lombards,
among the heathens and heroes and Huns,
among the Israelites and Assyrians,
among the Hebrews and Jews and Egyptians,
among the Medes and Persians and Myrgings,
and with the Mofdings against the Myrgings,
among the Amothings and the East-Thuringians,
among the Eolas, the Ista and the Idumings.
Keywords/Tags: Widsith, Anglo-Saxon, translation, Old English, minstrel, travel, travels, traveler, poet, poetry, songs, music, earth, world, places, peace, war
(Just who are the most self-righteous people on earth?)
When God created Adam and designed the fall,
To reveal Christ's glorious salvation call.
Self-righteousness, then came into play,
To plague mankind in a wicked way.
Sadly, by nature we tend to be,
Righteous in our own works, you see.
The christian struggles most every day,
To keep his self-righteousness at bay.
But, the most self-righteous man on earth;
The one most permeated with its curse,
Is the atheist in whom we find,
Through the perversion of his mind,
An evil heart that readily condemns
All who dare disagree with him.
The beam is there , yet he sees it not,
But, 'oh the mote, it's in clear eyeshot.
From his cocksure "pulpit" above,
He promises to bring utopia and love.
He delights in questioning God, too see,
If he can set God at his knee,
Even to replace Him on His throne,
There to self-righteously rule alone.
He's been this way since the day of Cain.
The atheist, as God, will proclaim,
To be the righteous judge for all,
Obeisance to him is his clarion call.
The tyrant appears in manmade splendor,
Declaring there is no god but Caesar.
And given a little time, he'll appear again,
And we see the rise of Joseph Stalin.
Don't be fooled by this false hope,
That man in his own wisdom can cope,
With the ills lifes struggle brings,
Into our mortal transition scene.
The "seeming" right way to man, at best,
Becomes the wrong way leading to death.
As the battle royal turns out to be,
The war between my flesh and me.
Because the great danger exists,
In our deep-seated self-righteousness.
Unlike the atheist, we pray every day,
That God's Holy Word light our way.
But, the atheist will have none of this;
No matter how much "man made" pain exists,
From his self-righteous attempt to be,
The righteous judge for you and me.
With this "revealed" knowledge we should find,
Not hate, but love of a Godly kind,
For our adversary the atheist, you see,
But for God's grace, thats what we'd be.
1Cor.2:14 "the natural man recieveth not"...
Rom.8:7 " the carnal mind is enmity--neither can he know"....
John 6:44 "no man can....
John6:29 "this is the work of God, that ye believe"....
Lionel
Before
Before the world was made from space
Before the creation of the human race
Before the planting of the very first seed
There was the emotion of Love and the concept of need
Before the Good Lord made Adam and Eve dance
Before Cupid invented the idea of romance
Before politicians decided the position of their stance
There was little to divide us, it was left up to chance
Before the decisions were made to Govern,
Before Hansel and Gretel were put in the oven
Before the dinosaurs roamed the Earth
Before Mary herself gave the first Virgin Birth
Before Socrates spoke to his very first student
Before any activism or poitival movement
Before the first winter froze the very first trees
Before Romeo lost Juliette and was bought to his knees
Before Mozart composed his very first song
Before the concept of right and wrong
Before the notion of monetary exchange
Before the first book turned its very first page
Before the great Wisdoms that came from the sky
Before the grand visions in Leonardo Davinci’s genius eyes
Before the incisions by the very first surgeons
Before the decisions were decided as urgent
Before the great rulers like Caesar, Khan and Cleopatra
Before the great politicians like Barak Obama and Margaret Thatcher
Before Ludwig Van Beethoven’s very first composition
Before the first cancer patient was put in remission
Before they invented the human genome
Before ET got to eventually phone home
Before man walked on the surface of the moon
Before Frank Sinatra sung a moment too soon
Before the Human Rights Council was developed in The Hague
Before mankind developed courage or could recognize the brave
Before Nicola Tesla invented electricity
Before Elon Musk developed this concept for free
Before the woke generation ran away with the social narrative
Before feminist theory lost part of its prerogative
Before society became synonymous with technology
Before youthful ambition was lost to cynical ideology
Before Mohammed Ali put on his first boxing gloves
Before we all agreed that something undefined comes from above
Before the Noah sailed his arc and sent his peaceful dove
Before it was all invented, this world evolved from the essence of Love
The End
Copywrite Elizabeth Moroz 2023
Perche Sono me II.
I interact with the blues because I feel sad and I am alone.
The blues are an expression of my internal feelings.
My biological needs and psychological needs are in a constant state of dueling.
My biological needs are pulsating.
My psychological needs are in a strong state of defense.
My biological needs are very powerful.
They want to spring a new bio.
So powerful that it hurts the three components of my life.
It feels like only a visit from the reaper could make them go away.
These needs are powerful and must not win.
You ask me “why don’t you just follow your biological needs?”
Why do you continue to deprive your body of what it wants?
Would you deprive it of food and water?
Truthfully, I am conscious and will not follow in the footsteps of some of my friends in
the past. I do not want to make the same decisions that they made and realize my
mistake(s). My biological needs will not deprive me.
I deprive my body of these needs because I must continue to go forward. A short
break of a few minutes may end up as a divine comedy for a long time with no smiles.
Food and water are vital to the sustained notion of life. Procreation and non-
procreation in a sexual environment are ok, but it is not meant to be the controller of
life.
My psychological needs are more important to me.
Self-esteem & self-actualization are at the top of the pyramid.
My physiological needs are at the bottom
Praise Allah for Maslow
My mind is more important than my body
My mind wants me to go forward and never give up.
I must follow my dreams and not the wishes of the undercroft.
Finally, I say to all of you this is the reason why I am single
I want to be with someone that connects with me and I with them.
I am not looking for an easy person.
Too many of the doves are brown and sound like quails.
I am looking for my white dove with the voice of the hawk and the majestic tranquility
and beauty of an eagle in all its beauty.
I have not found my phoenix.
I will not die because I live.
“Cowards die many times but the valiant taste death once.” These are the words of
Julius Caesar to his wife Calperna.
With this quote in mind I will move forward and I will do it my way.
Maslow was and is still right.
Already the month
of August 2018,
May never become
a je June'm
(Forget-me-not)
time of year,
especially for nouveau
homeless and,
penniless residents,
(now more like worrier),
who reside in the
(burnt to a crisp)
Golden State where,
towering uncontrollable
wild fire infernos veer
really did tax mental,
physical, and spiritual
oye vey iz mare (to
the bajillion power
of Google Plex) their
heirlooms, mementos,
and trappings of
das kapital lifestyle
went up in smoke,
which tragedy didst seer
the eyes (yes, iz traumatic,
but also the air)
looms with toxic
particulate matter,
though concerned former
propertied owners
(now ashen faced)
as utter grief doth rear
a scorched (bumping) ugly head,
yet the onset of Autumn,
(and the main
purport of this poem)
(oh my dog, that twill be
in approximately three weeks,
when Eastern Orthodox Church
denotes beginning of ecclesiastical
annum mull house
for straight or *****
(these times opening
doors to LGBT, or GLBT
(an initialism that
stands for lesbian,
gay, bisexual, and transgender),
nonetheless history
replete with app pear
chock full of factoids such as:
September (Latin septem,
"seven") with near
exhaustive steeped in
pagan glory of antiquity.
Ancient Roman observances
for September include:
Ludi Romani, originally celebrated
September 12 - September 14,
later extended to
September 5 to September 19.
In 1st century BC, an extra day added
in honor of deified
Julius Caesar on 4 September.
Epulum Jovis held: September 13.
Ludi Triumphales held: September 18–22.
Septimontium celebrated September, and
December 11 on later calendars
September called "harvest month"
in Charlemagne's calendar.
September corresponds partly to
Fructidor and partly to Vendémiaire
of first French republic.
On Usenet, September 1993
(Eternal September) never ended.
September called Herbstmonat,
harvest month, in Switzerland.
The Anglo-Saxons called
month Gerstmonath,
barley month, that crop
then usually harvested.
I rise from my feathered comfort, one only achieved with torture
My deal with the devil gives warmth and I shower until the steam tickles my throat
Long enough to wash off the blood
My feet are cuddled in bodies as I descend to my breakfast of victims
Washed down with the elixir of exploitation: black beans and mother's white tears
Satiated, I gather keys to the poison cart and join the other killers
Sadness and suffering on the hour while we monsters trickle forward towards the financers
Arrival and I take a dangerous breath, one I contribute to by my being
Working hard until lunch, when I hail Caesar and his cadaver accomplice
Back to the toil as the clones finish off him or her
I dream of my evening freedom, life releasing a whine as blood and root combine
The watched leg-like hand reaches the glorious digit and we rise
Herded up the raceway, I reach my stunning box
I contemplate myself and our species as we slow into the jam, lots of flavours but ultimately the same
I see myself in a consumers window to my soul
I question and define us, painful though it is
Destroyer through choice or willful ignorance multiplied in a never-ending stream of blood
Back at the cave my appetite has left, I turn to the box of distraction to aid my escape
Confirmation hits hard and I recoil as drought, famine and extremes seem a normal condition
If suffering is sought, we will never disappoint; as war rages, be relieved of your position in this rat race
Depressed I retreat, battered and bruised
Wrapped in softness I sink, deflated
I turn the sadness, pages of another life, and the realisation that equilibrium sought will never be balanced
So many are under the scales of the demon and equality is just a word with little meaning to the victim
I drift towards tomorrow feeling both sorry and relieved, sad but secure, sick while fed
The luck of my location means I suffer the least, how cruel and ironic this moral compass
The West is the beast, so many sheep missing a good shepherd
I finally arrive that tomorrow can be different, no need for madness as Einstein defined
I can be the hero of my little life, bee the change, from something I despise
I have woken I'm finally released, no joint enterprise of suffering, no more a sheep