Long Clan Poems
Long Clan Poems. Below are the most popular long Clan by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clan poems by poem length and keyword.
Come here, I say, come closer
Let me tell you 'bout a tale
You're young, you can learn from this
So be sure to listen well
A gathered clan of kinsmen
I'd say the number equaled twelve
Each one found a higher calling
Forged by the Good Shepherd Himself
He brought these men together
They broke bread, then shared a pact
Nothing happens to the Master
Or one of us must spring to act
That day came as expected
He was charged with several crimes
The least brave of the twelve
Knocked on the door, knocked several times
They took Him, Roman soldiers
What do we do? I am afraid
By the time someone took action
He was deep within the grave
Night rests heavily upon my head as
daylight creeps slowly into my bed
searching for a shoulder to lean on but night kept
staring in my face lashing out at me without an embrace
The sword of time is piercing me from behind
Morning is dragging me to and fro
And I still don't know which way to go
Night comes alive and lit the promiscuous sky
Forbidden torches sprang up in the air
drawing unruly crowd far and near
Marching fearlessly through the quiet town
chanting wanton slogans all around
Traffic jam, people pushing and shoving
swirling angry words at one another
Blood runs down the narrow ally
staining the dry cracked ground
while souls are weeping underground
Bodies hang aimlessly from trees
And the clan marched vigorously down the street
with guns and sticks twisting in their hand
screaming and shouting racial slang
This rage has been welled up for years
hiding in the bushes and casting shadows
resurrecting the tyranny that has plagued the mother land
They cover their heads with white sheets and
and kneel in front of burning cross on top of the hill
America has betrayed her values
Her sons and daughters have lost their way
and indoctrinated with ideology that will soon pass away
Fear is running down their sad faces while
the group with white sheets create havoc in the streets
The Gods cannot find a place to breath
Nature is burning with heat
Black cars strolling up and down the street
Looking at the oracle on top of the hill
I am twitching and turning
And the fire is slowly burning
Morning has come and gone
And a new day is dawn
Finally I can find a quiet place to sleep.
Jorogumo a poem by thomas laufey
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Senzo no rei yo, watashi wa anata o yobu, chikaku-ryoku no aru fushi-sha
I am stretched out between the graves of those that came before me ever seeking
Never finding solace between the rotted coffins with the bones long since decomposed
So i sing and dance till one night into deaths dark embrace, cooling,sealing myself to his hands which even the fates listen to, so hear me sing and cry and scream my despair
At my true love’s lie, whom I entrusted with my heart,
So as i cry and weep in my dead parents arms,
I loathe myself for believing his deceits and treacheries.
Sobbing mercilessly at the sight of the full moon and the sakura petals that fill the air,
While my foes men dare to try to take this waste of life back to their master,
So i transform on this cursed night to take my vengence on all life
And to join the ranks of the ayakashi and yokai, to kill the treacherous spider who deceived me
That monstrous tsuchigumo
Akuma fuku ge no watashi o anata no hitori ni kaeru.otto no nayami ni watashi o kaete. Azamuki no geijutsu ni oite, watashi o jo`o ni shiyou. Kumo no jo`o o miyo
Lo behold the spider queen
The ferocity and deceptions of my husbands clan of the earth spider personified
As he killed what I hold dear so shall I
For i am jorogumo the spider queen, the man eater and the destroyer of the earth spiders
Why this is my tale
Of my family tree and roots
The what and where
My Gaelic Celtic
Surname origins came
Straight out of my Liverpool home
Retracing my heritage right back to
The emerald island of Eire
Galway Bay
And the Wild Atlantic Way
Which paved the way
Where the
Ferocious O'Flaherty
Clan initially began and surname came
To Aughnanure Castle
On the shores of the Drimneen river
Where I myself have never previously been
Which I aim to put right and address
Because as they say and it's said
In order to know where you are going
You need at 1st to know
There fom whence you came
If no other reason
Apart from maybe just incase
In death you may well be returned
Indexed alphabetically under ones surname
Mine begining with the letter
" F '"
Moto and Meaning
Fortune Favors the Brave
Bright Rulers
Ferocious in both
Spirit and namesake
The Death of Art
He was an artist, a painter spending much of his time
in his mother's garage painting when not out drinking with his many friends who were art lovers too, although some were hangers-on enjoying what they thought was a carefree life.
His family came from an industrious group who
had investments in many commercial enterprises and therefore were concerned about the clan's reputation
they regarded his attempt to develop his skill as useless
waste of time.
One day I came into the house having spent hours in the garage trying to get the color right in a landscapes
painting and failed, the clan waiting for him
they told him how great it could be if he joined the firm
paint he could do for fun
The family won, next day he appeared in a suit and came to
the office quickly grasped the trade of making money
he was good at this and soon advanced to higher-up
waiting for his turn to be the next president and perhaps
a title and fawning respect.
To make the picture idyllic of perfection and success
he had a beautiful wife and two lovely children not
a stable with Arabian horses and several dogs, but his mother, perhaps the only one in the family was worried
she missed her son.
He avoided his friends, no, he didn't want to talk about his art it was for passing the time. He now had a calling to make the business selling fertilizer products worldwide, but we saw in his eyes his deep desperation, a soul crying in the night
One morning the horses were neighing, dogs barking
he hangs from the rafter in his stable.
He got a stately funeral, flowers, and wreaths from afar
his mother was sad she had lost him so many years ago she had been crying
When love is a failure
The bird of love sits in a gilded cage, sometimes
it gets out and flies in search of mischief.
Anton, a young student from a middle-class family
sat in a crowded café drinking a beer, when Maria
entered, she had a coffee since the café was full
Anton beckoned for her to sit with him at his table.
Lovestruck!
In infatuation, they had met by chance and nothing
about them made sense; Anton was well-educated
Maria could barely struggle through the headlines
of the local newspaper, but she was of a generous
disposition, eyes that mirrored her warm nature.
The bird of love was back in its cage and felt smug.
Anton’s family threatened to disinherit him,
Maria’s family of Tinkers were outraged that she
loved someone outside the clan.
The loving couple lived in the poor part of the town
Anton had a horse collect rubbish and brought
the stuff to the town’s waste depot, he
drank a bit, put him in a mellow mood.
After work, Anton sat in the stable reading books
and newspaper, sometimes Maria came and they
spent the night there.
At home were two sons who blamed their parents
for their poverty and lack of progress, they also
made fun of the mother, who had grown fat and
had rotten teeth, they also stole Maria’s cash
she stored in an empty biscuit tin.
Their love was so overwhelming they had no time
for the children; in the cage, the bird of love grinned.
There is a story of four musketeers
French history would have you believe,
But no it’s not true they are Brits through and through
With a welsh lassies...but we will not grieve
It’s all for one and one for all
Never one alone, will ever fall
The cry goes up and you can all hear
The other three will always be here.
Their swords are sharp their tongues are too
You can battle just one but never win two
Our weapons unique a pen or keyboard
Together the musketeers will never be floored
We have age and experience love and friendship
We cover our backs so the knife cannot slip
A tear cannot fall it will soon be wiped dry
And the four musketeers will never cause a sigh.
So raise up your sword arms and rally to the call
The four musketeers are gonna have a ball
We will patrol and protect all those in our clan
The four musketeers always stand up for their man
© ~GG~ 07/03/2013
Timendi causa est nescire (Ignorance is the cause of fear).
– Seneca
About two thousand years ago,
when Quintilianus said it
(at least, that’s who gets the credit),
his paradigm was apropos:
the words “Vestis Virum Reddit.”
Garbed in leather, silks, and cotton,
emperors took his words to heart
(at least, they tried to look the part).
While rags for the misbegotten
kept wealth and hoi polloi apart.
Latin lessons soon forgotten
as kingdoms rose and kingdoms fell.
The rich get rich, the poor rebel
all through the Middle Ages rotten,
and the Enlightenment as well.
The New World spawned a tyrant king,
who would rule The Divided States,
fomenting fears with false dictates.
He'd boast that he knew everything,
a claim the test of time negates.
Galumphing loud he’d hit the links,
while flashing flaming orange hair,
and a most massive derriere.
His minions thought it ugly stinks,
but if he knew he didn’t care.
Sometimes he’d putt without his clothes,
few dared tell him he’s forgetful --
those who tried were soon regretful.
For it’s the truth that he most loathes,
and Media makes him fretful.
What is the measure of a man
who walks naked from his tower
while his Party members cower?
Has no patriot in his clan
the spine to speak truth to power?
When pictures in the Press were viewed,
“Fake news!” he’d claim. “This I decree.
I wear fine clothes, as you can see.”
Blame hubris? Blame ineptitude?
Let’s let the judge be history.
So, let us speak of history,
to the feckless that forget it
the words “Vestis Virum Reddit.”
Let truth be not a mystery --
give Quintilianus credit!
February 2022
"Latin Lessons" Poetry Contest sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Draupadi's Mahabharath
Blinded by thoughts I have sunk into a corner
Unlikely and hasty thoughts seep into my heart
Maybe as I knew that I was the silent mourner
Of one noble soul, that destiny has tone apart
Clad in all white, I close my eyes
I am carried away by a ray of bright light
Then I ask myself if this was worth the disguise
Pride, lust, greed, jealousy, and vengeance dimmed my thoughtful sight
The cruse I had laid upon the land of glory and magic
Withered away in the passage of time
I had been one of the causes of an incident so tragic
I do not know what to call it, whether a curse of a lifetime or a selfish crime
Amidst the downpour of thoughts in my mind
I let myself to peace and left my intriguing thoughts undefined.
Note- Draupadi is one of the main characters in Mahabharath and she is the wife of the Pandavas or the five brothers.
Mahabharath is a great Indian epic which narrates the great war fought between the Kuru clan ( The Pandavas and the Kauravas) for many reasons.
This poem is just my assumption about Draupadi's point of view about the aftermath of the war. I do not intend to hurt anyone's feelings or opinions.
Sam Antix, Shuffling, Stands
Battered, Bloody, Body
Turns, Towards, Taking
Course, Cold, Cavern, Cave
Vocal, Voice, Vibrating
Frequency, 538, Forward
Face, Fierce, Foe
Only, Option, Open
Defy, Defend, Defeat
Star, Same, Seek
Princess, Prisoner, Pointed, Peak
Thirty feet within the darkness band
There appears movement upon distant sand
Demons of yellow fire forming clan
Sam dropped to his knees and then
Buried his hands deep in the sand
Cry to mother earth in land
Woman help me to withstand
Sam, than began to stand
With one shield and sword in each hand
Much gratitude to you Beloved Lady of the land
Have at thee, ye demon, Sam fanned
Slicing the first beast at mid span
Sam continued to hack at the clan
Four then came at Sam in a band
Sam with shield thrust, beasts now I make stand
Victory at all cost be my battle cry and plan
Now have at thee, ye beast demon men
Approaching now a unit of nine
Battle ready crew said superior troop
Closing around Sam, encompassing loop
Demon horde fools Sam says and begins to laugh
Error on your part, ye think Sam I am daft
Advancing on Sam now be the last nine
The first, sword take two from head fine
The third, shield severs his spine
Sword pierced two from behind
Sam had calm of mind
Last hit point dime
Spilled blood wine
Wind sign
Climb
Ever her call beckons me
Sam my dearest where art you
From the pits of hell I come
My love, on my way
Next, Now, North
Yet, Yellow, Yin or Yang
Guarding, Gate, Gargantuan
Fearlessly, Facing, Fiend
Sam’s, Saber, Shines
Winding, Willing, Wind
Battle, Began, Between
Cutting, Crisply, Clean
Limber, Legs, Leap
Knowing, Knowledge, Knight
Neck, Negate, Next
Dropping, Double, Doors
Form: