Long Centurions Poems
Long Centurions Poems. Below are the most popular long Centurions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Centurions poems by poem length and keyword.
From: Governor Silva, Lucias Flavius
To: Commander, Legio X "Fretensis"
The Judean slaves finally finished the assault ramp.
Order the centurions to roust the legionnaires from each camp.
Give each of your legionnaires extra water and a double ration,
Then assemble the squares and set them in motion.
The last of the defenders are cowering behind the wall.
Well before nightfall, I should expect Masada fortress to fall.
Among Eleazar Ben Yair's Zealots are Sicarii assassins,
So ensure that each prisoner taken is searched for hidden weapons.
Capture as many as you can of them to be sold for slaves;
But toss all their dead off the cliffs--don't bother digging graves.
It may still be awhile before the Tenth Legions rotates back home;
When that day comes, I'm sure Vespasian will honor you all before Rome.
Oh! What a weary world of woe
To see a pious man, laid low
A pitiless look, from Godless eyes
Barabbas luck, means His demise
His destiny, to be betrayed
That Judas kiss, a liar made
A King of Kings, in paupers clothes
A Crown of Thorns, His sweet repose
For He’s no friend of mine, he cried
Three times condemned, three times denied
Wash clean the sins, from guiltless hands
A barbaric end, the mob demands
Your truth lies closer to the bone
Your fate is theirs and theirs, alone
They claim you, as their King of Jews
Is this the epitaph, you choose
Her dream, her life, her wondrous joy
Her son, her blood, her little boy
Her pleas for mercy, peal in vain
As blood falls from his face, as rain
Not wanting, of His pains to blur
He drinks not of the Wine and Myrrh
To lay His life down, for mankind
The Heavens weep its Angels blind
A final thrust, centurions spear
The Miracle of Christ is clear
Released from Earthly bonds, His prison
The third day down, the Lord is Risen…
well, my mother loved to visit miss Peggy's place
yes, they talk about this and that but
still, Miss Peggy had several
spaded black cats in her place and
mother would ask her three young boys
to come out and visit Miss Peggy's house
unfortunately,
i
was the only one
brave enough to say that i have
a deep fear inside my chest that sing out
then I said, mama
i
am really scared of
those
big black cats are creeping around
in
Miss Peggy's house
the black cats looked like
centurions guards and griffins
standing along the
halls and stairs,
with
their marble red eyes and
white Cheshire smiles and
i
cried when mama
said
boy you come over here
and
give Miss Peggy a nice big juicy kiss and a fat hug
i
finally screamed out loud
and
said
mama
i
am really scared of
those
big black cats in Miss Peggy's house
and
that
Miss Peggy's has a thick black mustache
and
i
did not want to kiss her strange lips
will
i
I was unable to pass through.
Miss Peggy's house anymore
Striding into and under the town
gate's
Two brother's came a riding
wolf back
Searching for a capital city on
which to build an empire forth
Subjugating the masses into subject's
And the battled conquered into
slavery
Ceaser , Emperor , Senator
Pretorians , Centurions , Gladiator
at the ready to guard the faith
From pagan diety to singularity
theologians
And so usher in the origins of
Catholicism and the Holy Bible
To build a church opon the basis
of the teachings of the Jew once
crucified named Jesus
Who entered Jerusalem astride
a donkeys back to heal the
sick and poor and speak of
love and forgiveness
Who ended up becoming
Jesus of the new Jerusalem
Who's capital still to this day
is based in Rome be that
Vatican City
Ever since and before the
dark ages of enlightenment
Unto the mount of calvery where once the cross was raised
I bow my head in honor, servitude and praise
This mount where once the Savior took the cross for me
My sins far to many for me to count
Of each one he set me free.
His tears fell upon the stones beneath
I kneel down to touch
To find a last remaining trace
Of my Lord's precious fallen blood
As my own tears pour forth, onto my cheek they slip
I feel the unimaginable, the lashes of the whip
I see the stations of the cross
His face imprinted upon the shroud
The viscious blows of centurions
The cowardice of the crowds
His falls under the heavy cross
The way he still re-took his stand
The cuts and bruises on his face
The splinters in his hands
How did I forget all this?
Such pain and suffering
And without a word of mercy
He did all this for me
I reclaim my lost unpaid debt
The promise to remember
To celebrate the birth of Christ
To forget my Saviour never
I raise my eyes up to the sky
The place of his ascent
The Holy throne, the crown of thorns
Fulfilled
Thy Testament
In ruined scatter witnessing the greys into black
Why has it come to this as us humans finally lack
Through my eyes bloodied looking down on such
Crossed I've become in frenzied scarred mode
As to I I'm in awe as to the I that fuses
Centurions from Legions brave, showing confuse
To my left to my right seeing said damnest like I
In wondering their theirs as to their paraded
Mirrored like I that they require I be masqueraded
The tolling bell has spoken as I enter my demise
As I hang above paradise seeing cawing crows fly
Images of my existence, forever, eternally why
Act 1: Earth
Water
Droplets fall to earth
Meniscus lens on the world -
Wellspring of life born
Air
Gaseous brew forms
Invisible elixir -
A breath of fresh air
Fire
Destructive, cleansing
But giver of warmth and light –
Fire’s dual perspective
Act 2: Plant
Leaf
Spring buds burst afresh
Summer leaves decay so soon –
Death lords over all
Palm
Giant grass not tree
These swaying centurions -
Lives must co-exist
Sunflower
Massed bright sunflowers
Heads turn in obedience -
Sun sets on their lives
Act 3: Animal
Slug
Slug saw juicy leaf
Raced to eat this rare delight!
Bird swooped, slug no more
Ant
Ants march home in line
Communal desire on show -
Nature's will prevails
Butterfly
Winged beauty flutters
Abstract painting on her back -
Looks often deceive
Act 4: Man
Crescent
Curvaceous glory
The home of wealthy leisure -
Rich built upon poor
Gaudi
Parabolic waves
Acknowledge natural forms -
Colour outlaws grey
Dubrovnik
Sun shines on pan tiles
The town's uniform new shell -
War scars fade slowly
Act 5: Machine – the final chapter
Computer
Bits, bytes, ones, zeros
So Charles and Ada conceive -
IT’s Pandora’s box
Robot
Man and beast replaced
Same task over and over -
Objective carnage
AI
Boolean bible
Artificial ignorance -
Logical ending
Postscript: Evolutionary finale
Obliteration
Human destruction of earth -
Annihilation
Poetry Soup Featured Poem: August 16, 2020
Remember the sweetness
of the Savior's love...
when he bled from the cross
and forgave the good thief,
who regretted his sinful
ways by feeling deep shame;
weren't we like him who went
astray and floated like a leaf?
Why was He called Emmanuel
and live a life so briefly?
He could have preached
hatred instead of kindness
and proclaim Himself king turning Israel
against the mighty Romans...
that's why the envious Temple's Priests
accused him of blasphemy;
Pilate had no choice but free Barabass
as he washed his hands,
His Crucifixion was arranged through
Judas's betrayal for thirty silver coins.
Remember the sweetness
of the Savior's love when he
called out to His father and asked
for their forgiveness;
and despite the long hours
of agony and abuse,
He knew that His death had
the power to redeem all sins...
who still doubts His resurrection
which occurred after three days?
The heavy stone blocking the tomb
suddenly rolled away around sunrise,
how bewildered were the Roman
Centurions who witnessed that glorious
event being blinded by a dazzling
light and deafened by its noise!
Later that evening Jesus appeared
to the apostles who were overcome by fright...
believing that He had risen, but was
that enough to dispel Thomas's doubt?
Written on 12/12/2011
The Citizens danced
Romulus cried
Centurions posed
in Legions wide
“The world is ours”
they said in glee
“And death to those
who don’t concede”
The past unyielding
future loaned
The present flew
like David’s stone
Their party ending
candles burnt
With spoils poisoned
lessons spurned
And history writes
that in a day…
What once was Rome
was cast astray
Whose legend carved
in stone reminds
What young Narcissus
hoped to find
The glory that once
ruled the world
Now left in rubble
myth unfurled
As time awaits
to stalk our path
That wolf inside
—as history laughs
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)
On a wisp of wattle
that cradled in the fig,
a dreaming began
as sleep draped veils
to nurture a gleam into
dazed eyes,
as mantles of moonbeam
wreath temples
I fell to,
A gathering cluster
that saturated all reality,
a sculptor with tool
set about carving
a bird of paradise
as form finished
it flew away
A dove birthed
from a painters brush
and wiggled free to
splash the canvas
of black
staining its feathers
in obsidian
from centurions
I am gifted a
mariners compass,
they lead me to three rivers
setting sail
like the hunter after hare,
the cross and crown
my guiding lights
my keel wedged
on flying fish,
once soaring
times hand pulled
me to dock with face
now,
so weary I sleep
endless tomorrows,
and will drift awake
as the phoenix
morphs to crane
infinitesimal stars
will emblazon my hair
with constellations
as I regather from
the comforts of reverie
—-
and every now and then,
seeing miniature worlds
on specks of wonderment
will remind me,
that I am just dream-weaving
through southern lights