Long Cassandra Poems
Long Cassandra Poems. Below are the most popular long Cassandra by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cassandra poems by poem length and keyword.
I feel like writing - the feeling is itch-like.
Perhaps something aesthetically unconvincing
to feed the algorithm or better yet, something
carefully designed to invoke irate criticism.
“You aren’t the boss of me!" I’ll be thinking.
It’s my understanding (ok, a 15 year old told me)
that younger GenZs go to dances and just stand around
because GOD FORBID someone takes a pic
of them looking stupid while dancing.
I’m genZ but I want to shake myself apart on the dance floor.
I don’t stand looks - I switch it up with..
“If you think I look stupid
- I don’t look stupid -
your FACE looks stupid. (I sneer)
I can stop dancing any time
but you’re stuck with that face.”
Of course, that's an old insult - as old as teens themselves
but sometimes you have to go with the classics.
.
.
A song for this:
Get Him Back by Fiona Apple
Cassandra by Florence + the Machine
Once out there in the ocean, we fell
in the hands of roaring hurricane, crushing
our steam liner with its ferocious wind, putting us to sea,
receding behind us and slowly disappearing the giant ship
wearing on its bow a wreath of laurel.
We sailed to a barren island, expecting a warm welcome and
there was a shout of joy when we landed on the beach.
But the island was not to be trusted, littered with busts of
sacrificial victims, the ground suddenly began to shake around us,
hearing voices that spoke to us: Gifts to the Gods.
"Oh the prophecies of Cassandra."
I was overwhelmed with fear and grief.
Dripping wet in body and clothes, fled to the forest.
Who are you to hold gods in such contempt? A hunting party
came to the sight. I jumped into a tumultuous river, was
carried back to ocean and that's when I was rescued by a
girl in a canoe. Diana the healer, the daughter of Apollo.
After a while we became soulmate contrary to her father's advice,
who put me back out to sea until I was rescued by one
Captain Ahab thundering for his whale, striking again and yet again
the spears into the giant that threw us in the air. So
once again I was alone in the sea until I heard Diana's voice
shocked in disarray.
O Isaac, my love, her voice carried by the waves.
Tomorrow’s Dawn
This concert-filled night thrums with slow-motion static.
No signal, no return, with no way of meeting you.
Our sense of consciousness has become an intermission,
On a winding road in the fog, as the night fades.
One moment before, when melancholy weaves an overturn
For part one.
Subconsciously, it orchestrates a Cassandra. Met with impediments, as this moment resonates.
You’ll find yourself in the scene,
As emotions rise and fall in the
Waves of our concerto.
That fades into limbo.
Only to part tremolo passages
through mirrors of moonlight, the lover’s duet
Adds a refreshing luminescence to the atmosphere.
Allegro vivace, rushing into,
Tomorrow’s dawn.
Cassandra, you who knew the leaves of time,
And traced them in your mind before they fell:
A gift perhaps for mortals too sublime,
Perhaps a cloak of darkness suits more well.
Cassandra, did you wish this thing to be?
To reach beyond the veil the future lays?
To now and all of time at once to see?
To live a life thus spread across all days?
Cassandra, had they heard, then Troy would stand,
But how can little merit know the best?
Too rare a soul for that more brutal band;
And so a diamond fell with all the rest.
You suffered twice, before and when Troy lost:
A gift immortal comes with mortal cost.
The trumpet player is Wayne,
his passion for music drives him insane;
next door lives lonely Cassandra...
no, she isn't favorited by Charma!
Her days are spent in prayer...
oh, would a devoted Catholic nun refuse to hide her hair
that was curly and auburn?
Oh, it flames and waves like red leaves in late Autumn!
Cassandra has dedicated her life to Christ...
reminding all that they would return to dust;
she likes to sing and very rarely recites the rosary,
and singing she gathers crowds below her balcony!
Going to school I stop by to hear them,
such a gift is only given to some, ask Sam
who is the young pianist at the local church of martyrized Saint Stefan,
he praises them more than those saints in niches painted in pale brown!
Don't we resemble them in many undeniable ways,
expressing devotion for an ideal and deep love for the God of holiness?
Where do we find extraordinary individuals who sacrifice
all to get to Heaven through great strides keeping from the games of dice?
From deep below the Delta
Up came a smoky contralto; a sweet vanilla
With an intuitive guitar,
And her artistic vision, she could see far___
To New Orleans she would go, then to Sugar Hill, and eventually around the world
Such a shiny Mississippi pearl
Never to be placed in a box
She moved mellifluously through the jazz world like a smooth fox
Glistening and extemporizing with M-Base Collective
Amalgamating Blues, Folk, Country, and R&B all in the name of jazz, which proved to be effective
With unusual phrases and unique arrangements on many covers, she sweetly uncovered the souls of men
Deeply and richly, Caramel Contralto touched so many with each song from beginning to end
'Time After Time'
On this 'Harvest Moon'
'You Move Me'
O' Caramel Contralto
'Time After Time'
On this 'Harvest Moon'
'You Move Me'
Alias indomitable invincible
Donald John Trump oozes wrath
inexorably plunging every species
of life toward apocalyptic warpath
mercilessly threatentens world
wide web promising bloodbath
validating ex post facto commander
in chief as nonpareil sociopath
hence... this call to arms gives run
for money challenging any psychopath
lest inevitable according to dead
reckoning prediction of
wisest sages calculated math.
Thus one poetic footsoldier doth broadcast
dire straits emergency, and inveigh
grassroots action mandatory meaning
registered voters must
cast ballot per se
else planet Earth will...
burn thermonuclear gray
rendering oblate spheroid
uninhabitable, I daresay
if bleak forecast father time doth delay
global warming would outweigh
former worst case nihilistic scenario,
nonetheless Gaia will serve
as repurposed ashtray,
whereby inextinguishable fiery storms
approximating calculus of doomsday
nsync with intolerable weather forecasts
if complacency rides roughshod field day
defying lack of immunization oy vey
against opportunistic unfamiliar organisms
viral and bacterial agent provocateurs
microscopic gangbusters
nothing could allay
winning scrimmage play
thinning overpopulation whereby
scavengers make short shrift
plethora once living flotsam and jetsam
perhaps requiring rotting, putrefying,
goods put on layaway
(type of foragers -
reference https://www.google.com/search?
client=safari&channel=mac_bm&ei=
KECaXe_UA6SO5wLh-7gY&q=list+
examples+of+scavengers&oq=list+types+
of+scavengers&gs_l=psy-ab.1.0.0i22i30.
58737.70074..70997...0.4..0.223.1875.
21j2j1......0....1..gws-wiz.......
0i71j0i273j0j0i131j0i67j33i22i29i30.
wnDI0kLrKWM).
now ye might hashtag me chicken little
synonymous to Rome burning,
while Nero did fiddle,
perhaps scaremonger i.e. Cassandra
alamist bah bing away, a realist foaming
at figurative mouth with spittle,
would you believe cautious optimist,
who presents prediction,
while this poem heed whittle.
She casts a cold breath away -
Almost perishing when a glow
cursed Cassandra with a blow.
On her knees, after a pray,
daydreaming without peace:
Troy befalling again and again
the worthless walls will retain
isolated the heroes of Greece.
Every dawn the same tomorrow -
Troy perishing in numerous nights,
consumed by scorching firelight.
The virtue a God couldn’t borrow
stolen in the temple’s staircase -
turning left or turning right in the maze
will lead to same unmoved sorrow.
She can’t forget: all will be true -
The blessing kiss of Lethe is dry,
Hear the prophetess’ first cry!
Tears cover her eyes’ blue hue
but if we look in, what do we see?
Little Cassandra warning in vain:
I will be a thousand times slain
until I respite below Helen’s tree.
Form:
I journey to Atlantis
This road I'm on goes on and on
Across the Plains of Kansas
Love is strong, let the dreams roll on
From the land of my father
From the land of my birth
To the girl of the blue crystal waters
Between Heaven and Earth
She loves purple and sage
Dig her cinnamon smile and her butterfly ways
A sea of sunflowers, counting down the hours
To my Karma Girl
She's got bluebirds in her yard
Wears a locket cross her heart
Picture of me and my guitar
Her blowing the French harp
My Karma Girl
To Atlantis via Kansas, to my Cassandra
My Karma Girl
I journey to Atlantis
Through the valleys, over mountains
Across the Plains of Kansas
To the heartland, City of Fountains
She wore purple and sage
A flowered garland that she made
I just married her today, forever gonna stay
With My Karma Girl
In Atlantis via Kansas with my Cassandra
With my Karma Girl
Love is strong, let the dreams roll on
Love is strong, let the dreams roll on
© 2006.
...IV.
My vision began to flux oddly,
vomit came and went from my throat,
my balance shifted here and there,
once again, like I was on a boat.
And then I was back inside it,
looking out from that great machine,
my fellows looked on, I focused,
told myself this was not a dream.
They all pressed in, wanted to know
where I had gone and what I saw,
but just then the MPs broke in,
shouting,”Stop! You’re breaking the law!”
The military was not pleased
we’d experimented on men,
the ringleaders were arrested,
all our machines taken, and then
They just turned and let me go free,
I wasn’t one of the top minds,
I tried to tell them what I saw,
but they laughed, did not have the time.
I reach out to the astronomers,
said to look for a meteor group,
few took my words seriously,
I’ve not heard back from those who do.
Leaving me stuck with cold knowledge,
a Cassandra none care to hear,
I keep saying when doom will come,
as mad as that makes me appear.
So I’ve changed fields to robots,
work longer hours than anyone,
so our unexpected saviors
will be ready when the day comes.