Long Caped Poems
Long Caped Poems. Below are the most popular long Caped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Caped poems by poem length and keyword.
Fowl woman collected feathered creatures of all kinds; they came to her
Approached her from all sides, followed her about her work, they adored her.
She was ostracized by the townspeople who did not understand.
This was nineteen twenty-seven, women were readying themselves for men.
Not feathered beasts of prey.
She did not have a name any more;
people had forgotten she could play a piano.
They did not remember that she once lived in a large comfortable home.
All they knew was that she was a caped figure
who lived differently than she should.
She lived outside their comfort zones, and that was more than enough.
The owl, ravens and turkey buzzards were her friends.
She approached other humans cautiously; with a kind of fear.
They had not been particularly kind after her parents died,
and the money was gone.
The creditors had taken the house,
she was left pretty much to fend for herself.
Her father’s lawyer said to tell him if there was anything he could do.
What could she do? She was seventeen and homeless.
She could marry Mr. McGill, he informed her.
McGill, who was in his sixties was willing, he had already inquired.
Her parents gone less than two weeks,
she had not realized she could feel any worse.
Social niceties said to thank him.
She could not get past the large wad in her throat to do it.
She walked to a park and sat down to think; she sat all night.
This is when the birds arrived.
The last thing she took from the house was the sheet on her bed.
She made it into a shroud of sorts, with a hood.
It makes her feel better for it has her mother’s hands on it.
She was there when they came to get the furniture.
She wanted to set fire and burn the house down.
She would have felt better if it had all been gone.
But it was not. It was still there with a few family inside.
While she wandered the park.
Fowl woman, befriended by feathered beasts of prey.
The continued story of this poet
Haters r going to be mad that I even wrote it
Here is where I give u "The Business"
Like a lightning bolt striking with a quickness
Trust me, u haven't heard the best of it
A debt to collect and I'm gonna settle it
Mouths sown shut like a gangsters lips
Leave everybody sleeping with the fishes
The lips tell no lies just like a politician
This is the Sh*t Talkers Edition
I don't do well staying inside the box
I'm better at picking locks
But ur lady just lets me in when I knock
Words like cells in my blood
Flowing through these veins like the levee during a flood
No filter from the brain to my paper
Just a figment of imaginary literature, kinda like vapor
In the Poetic Justice League and I'm the Caped Crusader
By the end I'll be your Daddy like Darth Vader
Enough of the dilly dallying and chitter chatter
Down to Brass tax, nitty gritty, the heart of the matter
All in ur face, screaming, "U can't see me!"
Letting words "Float like a butterfly & sting like a bee"
Leaving all the drama behind me
From this point forward
Pulling all the hit contracts I ordered
"Keep Stepping" and move forward
Wouldn't still be here if it wasn't for the Lord
Got an ppointment with fate,
Best not be late
Happiness & havoc is what I hope to create
If u haven't notice I am a Problem
U better have listened to everything I told them
A fresh canvas has endless possibilities
Maybe a mural of myself among other Poetic Deities
Or a sketch of the lies that I made those people believe
Truth is gray and things aren't what they seem to be
Apprenticed to enamoring aviary, Love's cerebral chords to refine
To interpret the alluring tones in each, captivating line
Overhead, a snow white dove in the pure light doth shine
Innocent libido's inhibitions to illumine
On silted ground, turtle doves in beautiful harmony fealty bine
Every silky neck strand in seamless congruence to twine
In enchanting Lilac tree, song birds in melodic chorus rhapsody pine
The titillating rhythms of amorous romance to define
On fibrous pulp, wood peckers their virile aspirations sign
Artfully tracing each groove on hull bared and supine
In golden pond, nubile swans in tantric dance align
With graceful movements gently stirring the foamy brine
Hovering , humming birds' wings vibrate o'er suckling vine
Then with salivating tongues on frothy nectar dine
At dusk, Nightingales' guttural groans in palpitating soliloquy whine
The moonbeam's enticing spell on unwitting lovers to assign
Ebony-caped crows bellow bewitching chants o'er listless ravine
Each ingratiated soul with lustful thoughts to incline
Stealthy hawk with piercing eyes each svelte fiber doth divine
Then with dexterous agility swoops down on silky ermine
That day when legal slavery ended
A brief moment when justice seemed palpable
marked only the first chapter of caped cross burners
and rageful lynch mobs
marked only the beginning of white terror
against black dignity
Equal justice under law
That day when the sky opened
A brief glimmer when freedom seemed possible
stained only by the blood of generations oppressed
bruised only by the brutality of the state
against these people of color
Equal justice under law
That day when a people were proclaimed
A brief interlude when equality seemed attainable
marred only by marginalization and segregation
scarred only by white supremacy and white dominance
against these struggling people
Equal justice under law
Someday when a people get their due
An arcing rainbow when liberation is realizable
helped only by abandonment of white privilege
aided only by respect and compassion
for these people
Equal justice under law
Today is Edgar’s birthday
And the third year in a row
That the famous caped “Poe Toaster”
Has decided not to show.
From 1949 for sure,
And maybe years preceding,
The Toaster visited Poe’s grave,
And not to do some weeding.
With wide-brimmed hat and scarf and cape
To keep his ID hidden,
He’d sneak right up to Edgar’s tomb,
A visit most forbidden.
He used a cane with silver tip
To navigate the ground;
And in the morning, at the site,
The following was found:
A Martell cognac bottle
With its contents halfway filled
And a trio of red roses,
Which helped make the legend build.
In 1998, a note
Explained the torch was passed;
A Toaster “son” would be the one
To hold tradition fast.
On Poe’s 200th birthday, though,
The year 2010,
The Toaster missed his calling
And has not been seen again.
The ritual’s become, alas,
A faded bit of history;
But Edgar Allan Poe fans love
Its enigmatic mystery.
A padded cell is no place for me
Today I intend to be forever free
That caped crusader will rue the day
They locked my maniacal laughter away
No prison
No asylum can keep me under lock and key
Not even Arkham with all its security
Soon I will have my revenge on those two
Who think they have dismantled my crew
How helpless the masked man will be
When the end of Robin he will see
And screens throughout Gotham City
Will witness my gleeful superiority.
But first I must surprise the orderly
Who will bring my evening meal to me.
Once the key is turned in the door
Quickly will I bring him to the floor
Where he will end up in stitches
Relieved of his uniform and britches
Hush ,I hear him turn the key
Soon from Arkham will I be free
I was just a kid
You threw the “book” at me
Hellfire, damnation, sinner!!
Repent!!!!
I was too young
To remember “penting”
So how could I do it again??
Purgatory….
“the not quite ready for prime time
waiting room for angels”
Confession??
Hey, If I ain’t tellin’ Mom
I ain’t tellin’ nobody.
The “transubstantiation”
//I can still spell it//
I thought it was a new stop on the RED LINE.
“The Caped Crusaders”
Aka NUNS
Wielding a thunderous yard stick
(Thor had nothing on these chicks)
Catechism
The first of my many schisms.
I am still just a kid
Delving into the alleged
“Divinity of Man”
Walking in the footsteps of mystery
Dabbling in momentary beliefs
Chasing shadows on a cloudless day
Experiencing the wonder of life
Standing naked in the world of the undressed
John G. Lawless
©5/6/2023
Before you I stand free, on rolling hills
crevices, oceans, deserts, floods, laughter
failures, victories stencilled on skin
wringing luminous blood from
heaving soils where justice fountains glisten
a Presence, your reflection in sacred dialogue
Glorious in guilt and innocence ~ rebirthing, anchoring light into a Planet learning to receive
peacock feathers on crown, lion claws
at ankles, sunflower seeds dissolving in Love for Africa’s ebony longings blossoming
Woman of South, walking portal raw in
Peace I come, wisdom embraced
all encompassing enigmatic questing Heart !
scattering mielies, proteas along footprints
drawing down power from liquid Sun
sharpening truth in resonant Oneness shelled
Caped in empathic Forgiveness
my liberty leaves floating with
silver trout in Orange River rippling
equalising dualities in moonlight breaths
daisy petals softly blow purpose in lullaby winds
Bones now strong, fibres stretched
cabbage leaves open as abundance unfolds
see pitfalls, pebbles sinking, voids unleash
Violet Flames untying ancestral knots
as wheels disciplined turn in pirouette
feminine arteries intuition bled
Steadfast I stand, no stumbling, nurturing
graduated from crawl to gurgling toddler
gawky teen to Gaia-Goddess serene
within my African continent drum-beating
where Roses and Thorns garland to
ripple for more than Sum Total to unfurl in
A W A R E F O R G I V I N G P E A C E
With rhapsodic taps, startling beats
you do parkour upon my heart,
each thump pumping adrenaline
through readily receiving veins.
Keeping us alive with adventure,
you risk falling to oblivion,
thriving to revive priceless treasure.
Buoyantly flipping tricks through breezes,
you suavely sweep heartbeat streets
of villainous intruders,
saving your lady like a caped crusader.
Leaping beyond peaks of gleaming city lights,
your fingers dare reach for the rarest stars,
thumbing through infinity to seek
the uniquely perfect jewel
to piece into the sought mystery key hole
to open my heart's arcade of wonders.
1-1-2020
On the cusp of the night, forged by the steel of his will
Poised on the edge of forever, eternally still
Patient as time, as the yesteryears mark where he's been
Different from man, for the harrowing sights that he's seen
He once lived a life, full of promise and dreams as he grew
In a world where believing made everything real become true
Where a dance with the Devil destroyed everything in a night
And darkness prevailed, stripping all but a glimpse of the light
No man shall bow down to the filth that roam freely today
No woman nor child shall taste of the fear or dismay
The lost and the lonely a champion has chosen to serve
The weak and the weary shall have all the hope they deserve
The battle ensues every night, arson, murder and rape
As justice is dealt from behind the dark crusaders cape
Steeled by the resolve that injustice shall not be the way
No conscience, no remorse, no soft executioners stay
That which lies written in stone is etched there in blood
The conscience once felt as a child, washed away in a flood
Only truth paves a path to the future, let that be his tome
At the centre of hurt and corruption he's fashioned a home
A soul torn and lost evermore, in the blink of an eye
Bewildering fate taught a grieving young boy not to cry
Did destiny cause it to be - Or was it just that
The catalyst needed to transform a man into bat
Tortured by loss and regret through a cruel twist of fate
Carved a body and mind, that was tempered by vengeance and hate
Scales of injustice now measure the weight of our sins
In the instant that Bruce Wayne dies... then... BATMAN BEGINS