Long Citadels Poems
Long Citadels Poems. Below are the most popular long Citadels by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Citadels poems by poem length and keyword.
How in the world do you prepare a loved one for dying?
What if you as well as others have faithfully prayed
For your love one's healing? But instead of improving,
It only becomes much worse. And you storm the
Heavenly citadels of heaven reaching the very throne
Room of The Lamb of God who takes away the sins
Of the the world!
Most believers in Jesus Christ, firmly believe, "it is
Appointed unto man (or woman) once to die and
Afterwards the judgement." And as the Apostle
Paul, the apostle to the gentile nations once said.
"To be absent from the body is to be present with
The Lord." How well and good it is to be reassured
That your Christian friend will be going to heaven!
This is a much harshest case scenario! What if your
Loved one is not born again? You must first faithfully
And diligently pray for Dear Heavenly Father! To give
Unto you the very right words to say to him (or to her).
Hopefully, your unsaved loved one will ask you this
Very viable live changing and life saving question.
"What must I do to become saved?"
In that case situation you simply reply, "For God so
Loved (you) that He gave His only begotten Son; that
Whosoever believes on Him will not perish but have
Everlasting life." John 3:16. What if you friend does not
Nether acknowledges God's very existence. And or your
Dying love one no longer believes in Him!
You can always pray for God to have mercy on his or hers
immortal soul. And into your hands oh Lord we commend
His or her spirit. Speak those words or similar ones out
Loud. Hold on to your loved ones hand, and ask this question.
If you believe in God please squeeze my hand, if you are still
Able to do so. I firmly believe that our dear Heavenly Father
Does accepts and acknowledges death bed confessionals!
Why should any one of us wait until our eleventh hour to
Become saved? Multitudes of people die instantaneously with
Out even having a chance to become saved! And unfortunately
Some people miss out on their last opportunity to become
Born again believers in Jesus Christ, God's only begotten
Son, and our precious Lord, Redeemer and Savior! We
Love, worship and honor Him because He first loved us!
Love in Christ Jesus Holy Name!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
April 05, 2021
Bones remain, retain, and nourish
the under-croft, the terrain,
the meadow green.
Bones replant. They are meals for
the mouths of ghosts.
The dead feed the living,
and the living cut down the alive
to feed themselves.
The world must eat itself.
This is called husbandry and farming.
It is also called shopping and carrying,
killing, and butchery.
Those that eat only vegetables
also partake;
for the leaf and stalk
are seeded in the mellowing marrow
of a long planted bone-sown mire.
Often bones are dropped into the soil
as if the dirt were an ocean
and the land all that is or was left-over.
This is known as litter.
A grave is a half-way house,
Urns are waiting rooms.
Worms wheel the bon-rich earth
towards the sky for its blessing.
Osseous is the ancestry that seeds nations.
What follows bone and bone ash
becomes the crop, the tomorrow-cart
laden with its bone harvest.
Bone-flowers scent the air
from the empty canals of nowhere.
Bones scaffold wingspans,
they riddle citadels of stone.
Bones in tombs and catacombs
are pabulum for the larder.
A storage for generations.
From the Earth to the Sun, from Sea to Shiny Sea
there's no one Brighter than me, for I Am Mohammad Ali
from the Wind to the Stars, from the Fire to the Sage
I AM EXCELLENT, Forever Anyways
by Divine Grace, I Ascend Most Haste
no one does it better for Heavens Sake,
Born of the Solar, for I am of the Solar
Born of the Lunar, for I Am of the Lunar
I Am the Greatest of the Greats, there where Greatness plants seeds
I Am Ever Higher, Soaring Higher, I Am Mohammad Ali
from the Stars that Scintillate to the Kingdom that Shines Within
on High Ground, where Trumpets Sound, I Shine down like Jerusalem
Never Subpar, I Rise Afar to Greater Excellence
Float Like A Monarch, Glide like Fervidus, I Soar in Benevolence
from the Rivers that Flow to the Eternal Sonnets
to Infinity and Beyond, my Breath is Everlasting even in Death
I Am the Greatest of All Time my Shine is more Sweeter than Sublime
I Am the Champion, I Am Ever Up High
by Mighty Steeds and Mighty Creeds I Endeavor towards Israel
towards Lofty Paradigms and Lofty Citadels,
by Solar Prowess I Excel towards Solar Supremacy
not by Luck, not by Hope, but by Destiny
I Am Triumphant, I Am Victorious, I Conquer All
by Swiftness, by Spiritual Riches, by Battle Scars
I Am Ever So Powerful, by Power I Attain
in Lion Ways I Unlocked the Lions Cage,
and so, They Came, They Saw, that I Now Can See
for I AM FOREVER MOHAMMAD ALI
Inspiration:
Inspired by the “Footprints in the Sand” tradition—the enduring idea that when only one set of footprints remains, it is because the Divine is carrying us through our darkest hour.
—The Weight of Mercy—
I turned my years back down the seaward strand,
where joy had once impressed its double trace;
But when the dark unloosed me from its hand,
one print alone lay solemn in its place.
I deemed that single furrow spoke of doom,
and read Heaven’s silence as a sealed decree;
Yet grief, self-crowned, within my inward gloom,
arraigned the unseen for what mine eyes could see.
Then came one night when one brief sentence fell
through all the citadels I built so strong,
and where my failing breath could scarcely dwell,
I felt a strength that bore my soul along;
till, looking back, the furrows seemed to shine:
My feet were mine—the strength that bore me, Thine.
Whatever happens when days counted as weeks?
And years counted as astrological countdowns
What ever happened to disco rap battling drums?
On streets filled graffiti and sand castles
Whatever happens to shoes with no laces?
And bras with no straps
Backpack ladybugs with taps
Bell bottoms Montreal
Sweden Russia Columbia streets
Backward aimed down guns strictly meant for
Cisco band operative thieves
Whatever happens to justice stringing down a cubical wall?
Hanged down gavels London has fall
Lint brushed suits and gated Citadels
Bells ring time church broken pulpits spill
What ever happened to make up brushing Mack trucks?
Highway in France
Long stroking discipline Chinese to Japan
Whatever happened to words screaming off a page?
Sandy still beat breathing cells covered backward again
What happened to life metaphoric acronym?
Made fun of stage left to mend
Jokes to tell anchors to sail
What happened to the decrease in operating jail to sale?
What happened man made fictional crap
Backsliding genocide and presidents’ mysteriously vanish
What happened is told with a story that has no end?
Stopped up water turned brown cased in a sprite river bend
What happened what happened if the time was not set?
It will be broken and told to lie up a case with no Chef
No knife no swords
The word would not be told
What happen to happen?
Happen has caught a cold!
—An Inscription Concerning the Sovereign Evolution of Peace—
“Peace was once as ubiquitous as breath upon the earth—
until mankind, seduced by its own inquietude,
began to suspect that existence itself insufficient.”
Peace once moved through the world
as naturally as breath—
so native to existence
that no mind troubled to defend it.
Rivers descended from mountains,
fields kept covenant with hunger,
and the wind crossed nations
without consulting a single border.
Yet within the architecture of the human spirit
there stirred a darker persuasion:
that existence itself
insufficient.
From that whisper—
more—
rose the citadels of ambition
and the engines of dominion.
More territory than earth could yield.
More triumph than conscience could sustain.
More possession than the soul could endure.
Thus the subtle famine of the inward life
erupted outward
as the tumult of nations.
And I—
who spoke of mankind as though from a height—
felt the same small tyranny
stirring within my own breast.
For even in stillness
the human heart yet whispers:
more.
Yet the universe keeps another law.
The star enlarges by fidelity to its flame.
The oak ascends by patience of root and season.
Rivers shape continents
not through violence
but through centuries of persistence.
Nothing in creation
matures by annihilation.
Only man—
that prodigy of consciousness—
imagined that greatness
required erasure.
Thus progress resembled fire:
magnificent in devastation,
brief in wisdom.
But the cosmos waits
for mankind to rediscover
the austere magnificence of sufficiency.
For a civilization
that cannot accept sufficiency
will finally exhaust itself
in the violence of its own hunger.
When the subtle famine of the inward life
relinquishes dominion
within the human heart,
peace returns—
not as the spoil of victory
nor the fragile ordinance of treaties,
but as the native atmosphere
of a humanity
at last reconciled
with the proportion
of its own existence.
For the destiny of man
not extinction
in the violence of his powers,
but the austere and sovereign evolution
of conscience.
With toasts of sincere, solo styles,
When the poor folk flock before me;
Sad sunken strife-stricken soul-smiles,
Bodies, broken; hearts free and glee!
Solid, sappy, strong stems, sojourned,
Skin shrunk now; back-bone giving way;
Will, that has their death-date adjourned,
Though live like reeds in breath to sway...!
They have built your mansion and mine,
Carried boulders; constructed our walls;
Cities, citadels, shrines so fine,
Built all; risking tumbles and falls...!
They produce food and sleep hungry,
Give shelters living shelter-less;
Clothes they weave pervade the country,
They're nude; not for trend; they’re cloth-less...!
With teeth of white pomegranate seeds,
They smile as though never conquered;
Their spirits are high midst tear beads,
As their optimism undaunted...!!!
26 October 2021
The Kundalini Is Rising, now I'm Flying High on Wings Of Wisdom
Full Power Up On The Chrism,
Ever-Upward in Fully Blazoned Life
Fear No Evil, Fear The Regal Like....
I AM Spirit, I AM Alive
I AM Soul Divinus, One with the Sacred Fire
Deathless by the Knowledge, Breathless by the Flight
Wielding Staffs and Grails of Light,
One and Beyond I AM Eternal
Boundless by The Force, Boundless, Supernal
Slinging Mights Of Courage, Stone Bold like David
Never Jaded, Wielding Long Bows like Hayk Nahapet
Solar Gleamin like a Scion of the Great Spirit
The Vibes Jive On Exquisite,
Legend Born by the Alchemy
Chasing Diadems for the Masterpiece,
Full Ascent Into the Heart Of Israel
The Land Of Milk and Honey and Citadels,
Ever-Luminous, The Sacred is Rising
Ever-Thriving,
Abode the Heavens, The Stars Align
Seven Doors To Paradise
Somewhere from the deep dark and mazy cave
The painful cry of a wretch is incessantly heard
The booming,surging noise in the changing wave
That reaches everywhere in whirls and is stirred;
The frigid peace crusts the fazed soul, so sore ;
And in chaotic disorder,despite its awning decor
The unborn child of civilisation is in utter threat-
Squeezed between birth and growth ,in intense
Awe, and uncertain as the wicked anger is all set
To destroy, devour and leave in smoke dense ;
All the sweet and neat things for love and gain
Made, have but come to be treated with disdain
Skyscrapers and huge domes, like citadels tall,
And forts, palaces or mansions matchless ever,
Tracts for sport and fun and the communion hall
Are but pulled down to dust with mocking power
Built with nobility and lofty embellishment dear
Yet short of grace, magnanimity and soul clear
Like a naive praying child,the mind with a frown
Asks at large , and repeats often the quest:
Why build at all when you intend to bring down
To evince that things exist only at Ego's behest!
The world so rich and wonderful doth only need
Love, harmony and peace for the order to breed
All that the crust and its inmost offers do yield
Are the sole claims of the sapiens very strange,
Who now know that from the sword and shield
To the magical burning weapons of any range,
Is much easier than making a kid's game toy
To truly send chill down the backbone to annoy
The never stopping spheres will glance again
Similar chops, splinters and the countless kill
With the ceaseless flow of the liquid in red stain;
Will the infant within grow up to it's nativity in full
And find the fruitful load of culture for it to carry
On to posterity the divine gift of honey and cherry?
Tell all the worlds about the treasures found
Renaissance trace spellbound in the ancient form,
Tender and haunting; an era of time curves around
Past the present to a future beset with tech charm.
Historical pages cling romantically to our eyes,
Each epoch defines a sparkling gem of surprise,
Their fluttered rebirth is like stars changing sizes
Release by time flown from the damp demise.
That dip their limbs to bow unto gloss modernity
Like the artist and sculpture, they paint a world.
Of aesthetic peculiarities and lofty discovery,
Longing to find a place soaring free in the soul.
A vault of citadels says much; then said no more
Deep within, ancient wonders rise from the ashes
Talented beauty weaves from centuries we adore,
The time and place asleep in a waste wilderness.
The plague of colors survives in medieval triumph,
England, a literary monument of architect literature.
Finds the noble heart to express cherished breath
Creating the etiquette claimed by French culture.
Such dept alone could not be paid by metamorphism
Humanism fading in a mist has its place in society,
Heightened with extreme lust and erotic mannerism,
Italy removes the conscious veil from bizarre reality.
Ceiling significant through music strings serenade,
Renaissance dazed; allusion lay dreaming half awake
The inquisition of fate went on pilgrimage made,
German sentence commute through the classical gate.
The Netherlands explore and navigate all the distances
Byzantine adherence goes beyond impregnable walls,
depict faces of the Tsars persist in the military hypothesis,
And labyrinths take refuge in Russian banqueting halls.
The richest measured proportion of distilled beverage,
Vodka values more than all the dull limited senses,
Spanish religion repository of the myths and rage
Set the path where new western experience commences.
Portugal selfie, the pinnacle piece that thirsts for commerce
Lisbon flourished paints and medicines with Flemish.
Poland concept and conflict gain border land dominance,
Spice trade rises high and makes indiscreet allusion flourish.
We travel far beyond renaissance to the greatest monument,
When the transition of culture from the middle age evolved
Mesmerized art is a rediscovery of an enduring cultural movement,
The monarch of the Roman Empire renaissance man inspired.