Long Cain Poems
Long Cain Poems. Below are the most popular long Cain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cain poems by poem length and keyword.
Fields where the bondman’s toil
No more shall trench the soil,
Seem now to bask in a serener day;
The meadow-birds sing sweeter, and the airs
Of heaven with more caressing softness play,
Welcoming man to liberty like theirs.
A glory clothes the land from sea to sea,
For the great land and all its coasts are free.
From “The Death of Slavery” - Poem by William Cullen Bryant
On this August day unclouded and drenched by sun,
Millions gaze back down history’s road of red dirt
For a testimony in memory strong enough to assert
The four-century path of great wrong they had to run.
All men are created equal…that famous creed…
Spoke by the founders in bigotry and greed
To buy them a selfish liberty and us a silent grave,
To make narrow-minds reign and tolerance die,
And to raise their banner over the head of the slave,
Adding their mark of racism to God’s clear blue sky.
In our heart our souls await the Lord’s avenging day
And for the winds of heaven to waft and play.
Thank God for legs able to march four hundred years
And for arms strong enough to make the enemy flee.
We now plead by the Psalms of David to be free,
With words so grave as to not be eluded by ears.
No longer bewildered by the curse of Cain,
Undaunted we march with God’s justice to gain.
Our steps have caused the infringed land to quake,
As we roll on dreaming of our liberty to seize
A treasure that generations assayed to take,
Knowing deeply that nothing less will appease.
This four-century trek has mitigated our dread,
Preparing us to raise our banner over their head.
Though our wisdom can enable us to vilify injustice,
We must depend on God to defeat its monstrous sins--
For it is by His wisdom that the arc of justice bends,
And continue to show our faith for Him to trust us.
Four centuries we have called on God to break the chain
And return to us our strength and passion once again.
The day has come for us to stand and face the sunrise,
With a new spirit and a shout of joy for the new day.
We must now escape this virtual yoke of lies
And standfast in the liberty for which Christ did pay.
A hymn of thanks we sing for a long-awaited deliverance
And for the glorious liberty of the children of Providence.
Ah, Divine influence, it has come to many, so they say,
as to their nameless or named God’s they do pray.
The light came to Carroll, he said he could see,
for raised by a Vicar at Christ church was he.
Dodgson was his surname an apt moniker
for he veers of from his father, made math his liqueur
Lewis was Charles tongue in cheek, he wore hats
and from his birth place, he transformed Cheshire cats.
Lewis Carroll wrote “Alice” sure, he was also Charles Dodgson
but who wrote the marrow, now that’s where the God comes!
Now, many men wrote the Bible or so we surmise
and the pages they garnered came in random sizes.
Yes they picked, they plucked, these men were right scary
and what do you know, left out the Book of Mary!
Now you modern readers just might take a note
the resemblance twixt Alice and Mary's no anecdote.
Dogdson, yes Carroll, knew Mary so it seems
yet, Alice sweet Alice is who came in his dreams.
Carroll clothed Alice and it's no surprise
that in Chapter 3:21, her dress he seeks dried!
For Alice, dear Alice, did not wish to die!
“She would catch a bad cold if she could not get dry.”
Carroll being the kind creator, he would
had the mouse read to Alice the driest of books.
Again and again, his benevolence is shown
when he sends Alice a rabbit to soon lead her home.
So, we are lead on in most delightful detail
to Chapter 4:15 where her flight is curtailed.
As Cain slew Abel, so the Queen beheaded prates.
Yet, she’d no power at all, over bodiless cats!
Now, Chapter 12 is truly my favorite, as you may surmise
Lewis Carroll has dreamed much of caterpillar size..
He dreamed a whole world full of goodness and villainy.
As anyone can see, men will see what they see,
and the Looking Glass has as much meaning to me
as the Bible may have to the Christians, let be.
Where Eagles Soar
* Isaiah 40:28-31
I view the news and read the paper
And observe so much animosity
The chain effect then seems to be -
It gives birth to hostility
I often shudder with dismay
But when the Bible, I explore
I'm reminded of Cain and Abel
As recorded in Genesis four
With greed and hatred in the heart
What more can we expect
This tragic account is an example
Of results, - if God's way we reject
If I fail to look beyond this strife
And immerse myself in the fray
On the horizon, all I see is gloom
It’s a recipe, - for doomsday
But in the pages of God's Word
I find a promise I can claim *
When evil forces are unleashed
There is victory, - in His Name
Anchored in Him, I climb above
To the plane where eagles soar
That will buoy me through this life
And usher me, into Heaven's door
Colan L Hiatt = 01-20-17
© All Rights Reserved
He stands by the window,
a glass of whiskey in his hand,
watching the rain pull the city
into little fractured mirrors.
Ten years, he thinks, ten years
since the house fell quiet,
since the brother turned thief,
slicing chunks out of their father,
not with blades but with empty words
and promises that tore at their seams.
Love is a joke some days,
a noose others,
and tonight it’s the weight
pulling down hard
on the bridge of his nose.
He pictures his brother now,
tall, sharp-angled laugh,
skin folded with time
and shamelessness,
the guileless predator
preying on the man who raised them,
left him lighter in the pockets,
heavier in the heart.
And though he loves him
doesn’t he always?
he could snap his neck clean
if the moment called for symmetry.
But Cain and Abel,
he wonders,
were the gods wrong to decide
who bled first?
Some sins stink worse,
and guilt is always tender.
Hell and Heaven are both homes.
Homes for very well committed angels.
Angels who have lived dissimilar norms.
Norms for august adventures and tough rituals.
Hell in Heaven no one dreams in a dhow.
For five fines follow no fine choice
To plait soften or hard mat for a pillow,
With the help of Joyce in a meadow.
Hell in Heaven patronizes pepper into food.
Food that the family does not like ever,
And never anyone will twitter such mood
When parents cannot hike together.
Hell brings a beam of fire in the house
That breaks the beat of home cadence
Lack of rhythm makes mad the mouse
No mouse, no mere measure around the fence
Each angel has taken personal direction,
For Abel and Cain have no common mission.
Such selfish mission messes mum’s vision,
Hatred hinders harmony to flunk home in Hell;
And so Heaven has no home to fail.
Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
My monocle, please,
or if you please,
my spectacles so
I
can attempt to eye
a book with both irises
and which book
to attack first:
the gigantic book of fashion;
it’s
not a lap animal, vegetable
or otherwise;
and the floral pages -
both have large print,
I think.
Oh, yes,
and speaking in tongues,
that is
the craft of language;
a book (oh, yes, quite funny)
on trees (aren’t they the funny things
that we write upon);
and murder!
Murder, you say?!
…those found in the bible.
“What!” say you…
First the death of pleasantries or
pleasant trees (funny, right?)
Then sibling rivalry to the extreme.
‘Thou shall not kill,” did Cain know this one?
or ‘thou shall not covet…?’
All of these emotions, quite the spectacle,
spectacularly so… So what is in fashion today?
Do we like a good murder, on parade…seems
too many do. Jesus flipped the script -really,
he handcrafted the language of love. Love
God first; and love
your neighbor as you love yourself.
Sins brought to the surface.
Love covers a multitude of sins.
It is a sin not to go to the library
and bring home so many friends
that you can listen to.
Don’t kill the messenger.
My monocle please!
Though years slip by through time
if you live long enough and rewind;
you get to see that history
is ever a repetitive cyclic mystery.
Refugees and immigrants raped
always seeking some escape
when faith, land, house and home
do not withstand the change and roam.
What is it about faith and land
that we take life so easily
in a self righteous stand?
The earth and sand lies troubled
drenched in hate and fear and bloody rubble
unable to grow lush in unseen lost beauty
as the seeds of change die in duty.
Man progresses and reconstructs
where earth of promise begins to self destruct
repainting it in greed and desire disabled
as Cain rises again once more against Abel.
Why does the story of brother to brother
never seem to change
and the good in humanity is smothered?
Those finally set free only in retreating
still find their fate unfound and fleeting
and in the end revealed the truth believed
and permanently lost remaining unachieved.
Slip sliding footsteps of the aftermath
trace imprints in the well trodden paths
and new found short lived peace
forever lies stolen and fleeced.
Why does the record never teach
lessons learned
to be continually un-reached?
We have been here before
resettling the same score
forever destined to repeat
living in our self conceit.
Seize the day, the changing times
stand and hold true to new paradigms
all are equal, deserving of the moment
giving hearts, trusting minds with eyes open.
We have been here before
lets learn the lesson at last
once and for all, evermore.
I ADORED THIS INAUGURATION OBAMA AND MICHELLE THAT DANCE YES WE HAD JOHN MC CAIN HILLARY CLINTON AND BARACK I WAS TORN BY THE GAZA STRIP GEORGIAN THE SHEER HORRID TIMES AS I GAVE MY VITE PROUDLY AWAY FROM MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND I ALLOWED HIS MISTRESS JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY TO CONTINUE PERPUTRATING FRAUD AGAINST IMPERSONATING ME AS HIS WIFE THIS RESULTED IN MY HAVING NO OTHER OPTION EXCEPT USING MY MAIDEN NAME ALONG WITH MY MARRIED NAME THIS STOP MY IMPOSTER FROM COMMITTING VOTERS FRAUD WHEN I GAVE MY AMERICAN VOTE FREE FROM THE VITERS FRAUD IF A JAMAICAN DEALERS COMMITTING IDENTITY FRAUD AGAINST ME THERE I WAS PLACING MY VOTE FINALLY RELIEF STIMULUS PACKAGE FROM GEORGE BUSH LEAVING ON AIR FORCE ONE AND THAT DANCE LET'S STAY TOGETHER I VOTED HAPPY TIMES WHEN MY IDENTITY WAS ALL MINE NOT THE IMPOSTER SLEEPING WITH MY ABUSIVE HUSBAND BULLYING IMPERSONATING ME GID ONKY KNOWS WHAT SHE REALLY WAS CAPABLE OF BY GODS GRACE I VOTED THAT YEAR GOD BLESS AMERICA STOP IMMIGRANT JAMAICAN DEALERS FROM IMPERSONATING AMERICANS 1969 CIVIL RIGHTS FIELD TRIP SINGING CIVIL RIGHTS HYMNS ABRAHAM LINCOLNS HOMES I WAS IN FIRST GRADE JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY JAMAICAN DEALERS WASN'T EVEN BORN BUT SHE ACTUALLY TRIED TO IMPERSONATE ME IN 1969 SHE READ PIECES OF MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY AS I WROTE ABOUT MY FIRST GRADE CIVIL RIGHTS FIELD TRIP TO SPRINGFIELD ILLINOIS ABRAHAM LINCOLN HOME SHE BECAME MY ABUSIVE HUSBAND SPOUSE IMPERSONATING ME AS I WENT BACK TO MY MAIDEN NAME GOD BLESS AMERICA LET'S STAY TOGETHER LOVING YOU RATHER TIMES ARE GOOD OR BAD HAPPY OR SAD POLITICAL LEADERS DANCE WHAT A BLESSING ANTHONY AND YOLANDA CATHOLIC WAR VETERANS GOD BLESS AMERICA
for now please imagine generic
fairy tale characters
analogous if you will
to possessing physical, livingsocial,
and three dimensional
corporeal form (at least until
the end of this poem), and compared
to computer generated imagery
makes this request rill
lee not that impossible,
far-fetched, or difficult,
and most likely already
a done deal, hence nill,
null, and void might
stop the average
Joe, Jack or Jill
dead in their poetic iambic feet,
but would defeat
the purpose i.e, kill
and bring to abrupt violent end
my (very questionable)
"FAKE" purpose plus,
disallow me to distill
crazy literary whim of mine swill
culled via injecting
lifelike characteristics
into morality tale creations,
perhaps first heard
as nursery rhymes, drill
ling moral, perchance told
to your own chill
darn in tandem
with Cain and Able
by the likes of
Aesop, Brothers Grimm,
or Greco-Roman myths assume
Chicken Little, Casandra, and the Boy
Who Cried Wolf maybe
owned reason sound ding doom
and gloom alarm, and ignored
at their own peril,
when subsequent "FAKE" fume
issued turned out to be bigly,
yuge fire and fury
actual threat didst loom
(way before Trump
coopted those elicit terms),
and truly aye wonder
no lawyer got
called for said room
errs, which revision would
make them more apropos
for today and tomb
morrow, when generations
of future boys and girls,
yet tubby conceived
in the womb
hence law suits would result
into bajillion dollars
costs would zoom.
The Deadly Seven, once they got to Hell,
were boasting of effects they’d had on men.
Each one of them had their own tale to tell.
And Pride, of course the first one to begin,
related how he’d caused the Romans’ Fall.
Said Envy, “Murder first began with me.”
“When Cain killed Abel?” Lust laughed. “Is that all?
I caused an even greater misery
by making God’s most loved of kings go bad.”
Then Anger bellowed, “David did not kill
as many men as those who kill when mad!
Crazed killers give the best of us a chill!"
“But think of all the wars I’VE made,” said Greed,
“influencing those hungry for control.”
“Ah, yes,” said Glutton, chiming in, “Indeed,”
“you guys sure did your best to steal each soul.
I only made men love too much to dine,
yet I’m with you six guys at Satan’s gate!”
Then Satan screamed, “You fools are last in line!
You’re checking in behind the Hateful Eight!”
Written Jan. 28, 2016