Long Capitulate Poems

Long Capitulate Poems. Below are the most popular long Capitulate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Capitulate poems by poem length and keyword.


Story of My Life

Why do I continue with this book
the chapters either deadly dull
or all the action occurring at once
in an overwhelming cascade of events
that muddles the mind
too complex to keep up with
impossible to sort out the storyline
rendering me confused and stupefied
A tedious and tiresome tragedy
The plot painfully predictable
yet I persevere through every page
pensive, apprehensive for the conclusion
that I’m certain will be formulaic 
utterly forgettable
I’ve given up on others 
under similar circumstances
returned them unfinished to the library 
donated them to charity 
It’s futile to have faith it will get any better 
in the second half
yet I can’t bring myself to capitulate
to wave the white flag of surrender
and cast it aside
I will see this story through 
to the bitter end
because it’s mine


Wake To Frequent Reality I Lack Pride and Joy

Alternately titled inferiority
complex since little boy
oft times ponder what
afterlife like beyond far horizon ahoy...

No matter scarce giddiness wave
did carry and buoy yours truly aloft
analogous to dwell amidst
hermetically sealed croft,
imagining small rented farm,

especially one in Scotland
comprising plot of arable land
attached to house,
where hat o' this gentleman doffed,

Thence beckoning thee
to get comfortably numb
nurse cocktail I doctor, ah yea
with good n plenti of rum
lamenting mein kampf

worth ordinarily absolute zero
on par with being
a harmless no good bum
reflecting scores of lapsed years
since bing hard school of knocks alum

lionizing American south antebellum,
Pace of existence found one
idyllic I exclaim
casually sauntering along,
quite welcoming if one lame
especially inviting nineteenth

century hamlet fictitious place name
crafted within A Stop At Willoughby
(think or Google twilight zone
Season 1 Episode 30), where
main character shed his shame,

I too could easily capitulate
if/when time travel will encapsulate
one to journey where simply
livingsocial appeared exotic and great,
versus twenty first century Schwenksville
specifically Highland Manor

each and every resident doth insulate
her/himself within four walls
affixed with memories,
a long gone mate
similar to mine nonagenarian papa,
whose spouse Harriet,

a prior poem
I did poetically narrate,
which rancor hardened filial me obdurate
considerably decreased, yet revisit loss,
now jars thee noggin o' this primate

smoldering resentment - a human trait
did poison when mother at death's door
objection to accursed 
disease did undulate
within her cancerous kindled,
riddled, wasted body joie de vivre

loathsome beast could 
never invalid date
grim reaper would not wait,
her passing fourteen 
and half orbitz ago

Withheld a hug I never gave
presently wince with sorrow,
yours truly never forgave
himself eternal repentance within mine
soul asylum as unseen knife doth engrave
mine mean deprivation
bajillion miles separated us
unconditional love all she did crave.

Premium Member The Warrior Princess Speaks

You cannot own my body, heart, or mind
My essence is illusive like the air
So do not try to hold me down; don’t dare!
I’ll break away from all you use to bind

I am embodiment of freedom’s call
The cosmos is not broad enough for me
For I am more than what your eyes can see
My soul is deep; it cannot break your fall

And though my savage heart is warrior bred
I stand before you coy, somewhat demure
But should you try to capture me, be sure
Between your soul and death, I’ll leave a thread

There beats a goddess heart inside my chest
I know my worth, and so I can command
Allegiance to my love and each demand
You need to be on par, to pass the test

You cannot hope this mighty queen to rule
Capitulate your heart, give up your right
You’ll live to see the dawn vanquish the night
Then my desires will burn you up for fuel

You will be mine; on you I’ll gorge and feed
My wants and every craving, I will sate
For passion in my soul could never wait
When I am done, you’ll live to tell the deed!

I am a warrior princess; I’m the one
the stars and moon and sun obey my voice
And yet you linger near me, by your choice
The fight for your submission, I have won!

Eileen Manassian
Form: Epic

Premium Member When Lovers Fight

It hurts when you quarrel with the one you love,
pent-up pressures begin building up inside;
till a trickle of tears spawns a raging storm:
that's fueled by anger.

As the air crackles with lightning emotions:
tensions tighten; almost to the breaking point,
as feelings of pain, love, and anger conflict:
while vying for your heart.

It's impossible to erase spoken words:
but their potency decreases over time;
diluted by apologies and regrets,
as anger fizzles out.

When lovers fight, there's no winner or loser:
both willingly capitulate, in the end,
for when the tears dry, and the thunderclaps cease:
love will laugh at the storm.

Premium Member Deposit of Faith

You’ve been given a deposit of faith
God has given ample from His bank
Do you have interest in paying any interest
Or do you doubt that there’s credit in your account

We’ve been gifted a onetime gift
There is no tax on a gift like this
This is fiscal, Christ’s service was sacrificial
This tributary of all fiduciaries is ancillary 

Aside from the debt we owed
From His side the blood and water flowed
He died and He supplied all for what we’ve denied
It’s prepaid and our savings is in His life that down He laid

We are the beneficiaries of
God’s never ending attentive love
We borrow from His sorrow, the path is narrow
His capitulate stains are our eternal gains

It is His collateral and His claim
It is in the futures of all who call on His name
It wasn’t cost effective of being lost, and by His directive
The dividend, the down payment by His enslavement

But in this life, we will suffer loss and pain
Sometimes two backwards and one forward we crane
We have earned the income of death, that’s our wage
It's ok to whirl as this retirement plan is out of this world

(So don’t be inflated or impulsive
Give and give and give, ‘til it hurts give
Live and live and live, ‘til it hurts live
Satan’s been given for a sieve) 

So, what’s your goal, what’s your plan?
Do you use your deposit of faith (from this God-Man)?
Do you use it for others, even your brothers?
Or do you live a cloistered life, what are your druthers?

So what’s your long-term goal for your soul?
Is it minimum wage or a maximum pay load?
The payout is God’s policy, for you and me
If we use our deposit to help others in need

So take stock in God’s surety
Find assurance in His security
Why do you wince look to Christ’s sconce 
And what God’s has already counted and surmounted


Premium Member Hush Little Poet Lullaby

hush little poet, don’t say a word
big brother is watching and he has heard

be careful of what you do and say
or they might take your pen away

terms and conditions are admin’s tools
you’ll get locked out when breaking rules

be mindful of every word you write
a clear screenshot might stop a fight

if you feel the need to vent
don’t write a blog with ill intent

now if your blog gets taken down
it’s in the rules so please don’t frown

speech is free not written word
don’t let them see you give the bird

rules are rules that’s what they say
capitulate to write, another day
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member THE GIFT

THE GIFT

Given a gift so undefined,
my life to win or lose.
Told, "Accept your fate," "capitulate," but
quit wears another man's shoes.

Diminished down to nothingness,
quadriplegic, useless, frail.
The respirator blocks my voice.
My body's now my jail

Days into weeks, weeks into months,
grappling insanity. 
Barely alive, and trying to fight, for
sake of my humanity.

Dragging my brain down memory lane
picking my life apart.
Epiphanes, oaths, and promises.
The world for one fresh start.

Etched so deep, each time I weep
when Freebird starts to groove.
Playing along on my air guitar 
when I felt my fingers move.

Tears are pouring down my face. 
My life in every word.
My fingers missing every note.
I am my own freebird.

Then the work begins, so arduous. 
The battle still up hill.
Nothing in this world will stop
a man with iron will.

I kept all oaths and promises. 
I own my life again.
It didn't just make me stronger,
it made me a better man.
Form: Rhyme

Victory At All Costs

Carry on through the struggle 
carry on through the pain 
carry on through it all 
until you rise again 

hide to survive 
stay alive 
then you’ll thrive 
don’t capitulate 
just wait for the fight 

the enemy is mighty 
but might he remain 
you might be mighty 
when you come to reign 

now is the night 
wait for the light 
out of the darkness 
shining so bright 
you’ll be forgotten 
they won’t know your name 
or you can keep plotting 
with victory is fame 

you won’t be remembered 
as one who surrendered 
but you’ll be a treasure 
fighting forever 

you live on your knees 
you beg and you plead 
or rise to your feet 
you can fight and compete 

If you have the option 
give up is not one 
defeat must be forced on you 
no one can force you too 
there is much more to do 
dig deep and force it through 

if you give up 
it’s because you lack will 
success is a mental state 
more than it is skill 

it’s the act of resilience 
unable to move 
the fact that your brilliance 
can’t be removed 

they think it’s all over 
well, it isn’t yet 
you won’t rollover 
you’ll give what you get 

no act of closure 
no way you will quit 
everyone knows you 
fight and you hit 
fight to the end 
grow strong and grow fit 

creating your destiny 
waiting and desperately 
hate grotesque enemies 
greatness eventually 

All through the crux 
never crushed
never beaten 
never rushed 
never weakened 
patiently waiting 
all the while underrated 

steadying nerve 
go forth with worth 
never surrender give up or give in 
making the memories of a time you did win

Some have ambitions to knock others down 
Make your ambition to still be around 
They will use gossip or slanderous sound 
but you shalt be moved standing your ground 

If you’re in the right 
then just carry on 
they don’t want a fight 
they just want you gone 

Julius Caesar not Napoleon Blownapart 
defeat would be easier but for your heart
give it your mind give it your soul 
giving your being giving it whole 
victory at all costs that is your goal
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Ode To Hiromita

Hiromita your domicile lies in wait
Make haste to your earthly gate
Earth shakes bold; steady your 
estate
Ocean's waves, briny stew doth 
impregnate
Shelter your crops; your chicken 
coop insulate
Another tremor, with calamity 
don't equate
With phosphorous-laden breezes 
your senses fondly relate
With a steady compass, another 
storm you'll navigate
Your indestructible hearth is 
melded to malleable plate
Many times battered; but never 
did obliterate
Your parents bid adieu, but you 
must wait
Dispensing the stores as an 
efficient magnate
Your spindly wife shares your 
passive fate
No time her tendered fealty to 
contemplate
With due speed she puts away 
each sack, crate
Then both ascending to the upper 
floor the tides to mitigate
Home buttressed; hopes, dreams 
still ingratiate
Looking windoward, a dark, 
towering mass doth peril insinuate
You turn inward hoping your fears 
to attenuate
The merciless surge rolls; you 
clasp hands the force to abrogate
The black debris wave slams your 
home, the pummeled timbers 
capitulate
Your filial bond doth sever; your 
domesticated world annihilate
Form: Rhyme

Time Has Turned a Page

Pedants fume helpless and seethe with rage,
But linguists surrender to the age,
Media always misuse
Commoners to confuse,
But rage not, time has turned a tired page.
______________________________________________________
It is the age of freedom, free for all. Words are used any which way. Grammar ultimately follows usage. Take epicentre. It may sound a bit grander than just centre, but it is used only in context of earth-quakes. But media prefer epicentre in all contexts— political, social, economic, any. Pedants and classicists and linguists may boil with rage. But dictionaries will ultimately capitulate and compromise. So, make no fuss, or you will be called doctrinaire, worse, obscurantist or obfuscator, or in the worst case a nit-picker hair-splitter. Alas, you thought you were a sophist and a scholar!   
______________________________________________________
   Tongue-in-cheek |05.05.14 |
Form: Limerick

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