Long Clans Poems
Long Clans Poems. Below are the most popular long Clans by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clans poems by poem length and keyword.
Ama you are a father
Father my father
Whose basket of fishes
Sweetened my mother’s dishes
Whose naked feet danced
The jungle drum you drummed.
I remember
Father I still remember
Those joyous days
When like brooding hens
You employed your hands
To shield the offsprings
Those several bodies
O! the little bodies
That clung to your bare wide chest
Like the eaglets unto their nest!
I remember
The sun-burnt days of the hunted panther
When the full moon-light chimed
The rhythms of jungle drum drummed
Rhyming with the story told
By the white-haired.
Then your roaring march
Along the prime paths of the forest
Then your rustic touch
Touching the weapon-hilt
Making carcasses of beasts
Making fresh clan feasts.
I still remember
The raw feasts of the drummer
Which strewed this universe
Like young Mbari warriors
Taking the spear from several clans
Turning their crowns into tributes!
Ama, you are the drummer
Whose communal tongue echoed
From the hidden chambers of the Niger
The drum of your conquests echoed
Everywhere in the universe
Like the gusto of the Sheik
Confiscating my land from the Sahara
In her eternal desiccation.
You are the royal father
Whose royal eyes woo the moon
Whose black hairs detain the sun
Like Joshua at Gibeon
Even in the deep valleys of Ajalon
Bringing the heavens to abrupt halts
When their course possesses progress.
O, Ama! you are a noble father
And like the gold-laying eagle my Africa
Your natural pocket flowers gold
Which fills the coffers of the household.
O Ama! you are our race
The clan greets her farmer
The tiller of my earth
The earth of the ancients
The ancients of my blood
The blood of my race.
The clan is still drumming
On the drum that now is a mere echo
Of the eternal rhythm of your drum
Ama, you are still our clan’s song;
O, you are my song
The song my jungle
The jungle of my blood
The blood of my race:
A race
Waiting
Now and ever
In a forlorn clan
Awaiting
A return of the drum?
Form:
Viewing this vista of extraordinary scene
Scenic she's creative in historic darkened means
Meaningful silhouettes, black squared, dark undulations
Undulated to her visitors, their close clanned relations
Relative they may be, but so different in their norm
Normally they would be, differential in their clans
Clannish their panorama, now dusk before their dawn
Dawn is when there's life, a new day has spawned
Spawning oranges and reds, the dusk now bows to the suns wooing
Wooing this extraordinary scene, now my eyes are viewing
Not for Nette's contest, I just loved the image, and it's theme
In a kingdom called Torridon
On Scotland's west coast
Resides a warrior called Semaj
A Dragon slayer of boast
He has been called upon
To rid an ogre beast
For on his countrymen it does
Continually feast
On an outcrop of rock
Down in Argyll
This ogre of wrath
A monster so vile
On arriving there
He scouts around
Finding broken bodies
In this rocky surround
Up in the distance he hears
Noises so strange
Not from this life
As in-trepidation nears
On a rocky arch he stands
As the ogre appears
Club in his hand
As he steadily nears
Semaj advances
In the middle they meet
For below them lies
Another Dragon defeat
With club swingin
The ogre attacks
The Claymore of Semaj
In swift blow whack
In balances unsteady
On this thin strip of rock
With another glancing blow
In battle he's mocked
With a final attempt
This ogre so weak
To the sea his club falls
His afterlife he seeks
Now on his knees
Comes the fatal blow
Decapitation
To the waters below
With a mighty splash
As it's absorbed by the sea
This killer of clansmen
Is no longer be
To tumultuous cheer
From the Clan Chiefs abode
They heap praise on Semaj
To their aid he has rode
For warrior wise
This Scot of the Scot's
Battle hardened
It's the way he's been taught
Back to his kingdom he heads
With his sword stained in blood
This patriot of the Clans
And the country he loves
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-9.php
Welcome to another story telling session ---
… in my special child’s dinosarium
Where varied dinosaur-toys seem to roam in his room
Near the aquarium, adjacent to his monkeyrium…
There, monkeys and apes’ posters appear as bride and groom.
For this Noah’s Ark dinosaur trip ---
…we’ll meet dinosaurs with Bible names in Eden’s territory
Since we believe that all creatures came from God of glory…
Ruling dinosaur then was His Majesty LV or “Leviathanarus Victory”
Who in his prayerful humble spirit vanquished hatred’s fury
Thus, dinosaur kingdom progressed against jealousy’s misery.
Along the passing of time ---
…His Majesty LV became proud with selfishness’ might
Conquering others through covetousness-fight
He was then challenged by a dinosaur warrior of wise insight…
“Brave Behemotharus” warned all to flee from haughtiness-height.
Yet beastly nature, survival of the fittest, tried to dominate ---
Infecting entire dinosaur country from the fiercest to the tamest
As well as the clans of Goliatharus, Davidarus and all the rest
Hence, the supreme Creator Who always knows what’s best…
Being the Sovereign Master, subdues the bad with His good test.
July 3, 2019
Honorable Mention, "DINOSAUR(S) - FOR CHILDREN" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier; judged on 7/5/2019.
America, in this modern age
Population so proud
On their ancestors heritage
But in the annuls of time
Not that long ago
To a new world they came
Immigrants so
They travelled far and wide
Some further than most
Open invitation from their American host
Many reasons
As they left their homes
Some directly
While many roamed
To America's shores
In their many ports
Protection by, their military forts
To the land of plenty
And the home of the free
Where many immigrants settled
New future, families
The Scots Americans
Now American Scots
Left their shores
From a country so fraught
To sail the Atlantic
And escape the wrath
To hone in on their freedom path
To wear their plaid
A tartan true
America, has pulled us through
" Blàr Chùil Lodair - The Battle Of Culloden "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland.php
The Knight
There once was a man, bravery beyond all compare
Bound to a king and kingdom, to the people in despair
Past battles to honour his king and his homelands
Willingly to lay down his life for all the many clans
His armour chinked, remnants of battles long ago
His sword in its sheave, ready to defeat any foe
His trusty steed, a long friendship, has been earned
His honour never falters, ones greatness , be yearned
On a solemn night, the king seeks, his one true knight
“You my friend, my protector, my one true guiding light
“My kingdom cries out to me, do you hear her distain
You are her servant, and of all your knights that remain “
“There is this evil that threatens, means to kill and destroy
“These marauding clans, many lands, many hoards to deploy “
“We must stand now, raise our swords, show we stand tall”
He cries "Today we shall live or we die", for the good of all”
"We must ride out to meet these ungodly, unworthy hoard
Let our bravery, feel their defeat with our blood stain swords
Each of us knights, swore an allegiance to God and our king
Now is the time, fight for the honour and glory that shall bring"
Such a battle, never seen in many of years past
Fighting for the honour, for the kingdom to last
Each knight wields their sword, victory seems
The one true knight, hearing the death screams
He stands tall in the saddle, seeing all the bloodshed
His knights stand true, lost in a field of crimson red
When an errant spear, somehow finds it's one mark
He falls from his steed, blood flows it's reddish dark
Knights kneel at his side, seeing death approach their brother
All of his warriors, humbly pay homage to a general like no other
They raise and carry his body and his sword
To honour his bravery, for his king and his lord
A king strangely kneels before his fallen knight
As if he lost his only son, sorrow lost in twilight
He stands, looks upon his people and he cries
“This my truest knight, his life, what does it symbolize “
All the kingdom pay homage to their fallen son
Raise banners, tell tales, sing songs of the one
The one true saviour, to our hearts remain anew
To our brave heart, his soul shall remain true
As I woke on Xmas morn, all was quite still,
my breath on the window, crystallized in the chill.
With the Soldiers so far away, many did feel,
the distance had made the war seem surreal.
The war they are fighting, I fear may have no end,
the fanatics that feed it, do not understand.
The Human race is meant to be free,
to make choices and have dreams, for others to see.
Their warped sense of values is not in the Qu ran,
Muhammad's (PBUH) teachings are not kill, then run.
He had many wives whom he honored quite freely,
the love he felt for them all was as Thaira (pure), as a lily.
The fight he tried to teach, this war of Jihad,
is the fight of the good, versus the bad.
Is, meant to be fought inside of each man.
Within his head, not in a desert, in a far off land.
My prayer for this Christmas for all to join hands,
No matter the religion, no matter the clans.
May the peace we all want be within our grasp,
may this fight on terror, and within be won at last.
Thank You God, Yahweh, Buddha, Allah, I say this with reverence,
Call Him Jesus or Krishna, whatever your preference.
Amen
When directions are contradictory,
No avenue can lead to a fair way.
The magnetic mapping is so conflicted,
Most are lost, & the rest just won't play.
New questions arise quickly, seeking
Answers that no one before could provide.
Where a tug-of-war of their decisions,
Look to pull apart the other side.
From my viewpoint what is seen shows,
Partisan clans that can rarely agree.
Since the polarity that's always present,
Has become stronger by several degrees.
If we look carefully at the core concepts,
That each party looks forward to extend.
It might be briefly summarized and stated,
That one wants to save, the other to spend.
But folks, that's just a small sliver of the story,
The big picture is more complex to decide.
Since the importance has become undiplomatic,
The rhetoric now violent & personal & wide.
Whereas before, the old, simple labels of, the
Liberal left & the radical right, seemed complete.
Now it appears, up & down have been added,
As each side wants to be above, those below on the street.
Yet further looking to simplify, with questions
Seeking the message each party wants to unite.
This search navigates through waves of compromise,
At least for those tolerant of anothers plight.
So while results have been lost and limited,
Other directions are seen going forward and back.
And while our constitutional democracy is sorely tested,
A spinning moral compass points to another attack.
Heirloom is kept as family’s treasure
Legacy of cultural values’ worth
Defying heritage-loss amidst dearth
Yon third generation-wealth’s exposure.
Transcending all modernization-trends
While transformed for functional need
Heirloom’s style exudes our forefathers’ creed
Expressing close ties among clans and friends.
Grateful to have worn such heirloom with pride
I praise the Lord* for my lineage that’s blest
Around home’s warmth and parental care’s zest
Cherishing to stay in the victor’s side.
Winning “Best Costume” for this heirloom’s seal
My heart does soar toward triumphant flight
Then photo displays thanksgiving delight
Revealing gracious patriotism zeal.
*Psalm 34:1 I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth.
June 17, 2026
10th place, "THE MARVELOUS THINGAMAJIG" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Daniel Henry Rodgers; judged on 7/2/2026
The Joining was one of subdued elegance. Seileach insisted on the ceremony being held in the Keep. Jessica was beautiful, beyond beautiful, she was exquisite. Her long red hair infused with sky blue Blåveis and white bell shaped Liljekonvall mingling in a beautiful waterfall along the right side of her head. Rødsildre weaved through the intricate braids that Chroí sculpted through her tresses, the pinkish flowers softened against the brilliance of the natural highlights in her hair with a crown of fragrant red Vivendel circling the top of her head. When Joulupukki saw her slowly walking down the winding staircase in the vestibule, her long azureus gown flowing like a stream down the stone of each tread, he was struck dumb. As she passed from step to step, the living hand rail bloomed deep violaceous coveys of wisteria flowers, a gift from Seileach's Forest Elves working in coordination with the Garden Elf. The whole ceremony felt like a dream. He listened as her bare feet tapped gently against the stone of the foyer tiles and crunched as she moved into the sand path of the courtyard where she joined, arm in arm, with her father who guided her from sun to shade and without any reticence placed her hand in Joulupukki's and stepped away. They stood beneath the willow tree and pledged their love and loyalty to one another, and, at length, were greeted by the numerous elves that lined the path winding through the Keep from the vestibule to the courtyard and back into the Great Eating Hall, where a feast was laid out for all of the village elves to join in the festivities.
Many years peacefully passed as the Elfin Clans' Council refined their guidance of the elves of all six clans, each clan developing their own council that took deference to the lead of the Council of Six. On occasion Joulupukki was asked to offer his opinion and vote on a difficult issue on which the council was split. There were elves that were elected to the council who were hungry for power but none could muster the votes to gain control before their term came to an end. Eventually Seileach was relieved of his position as Elder Councilman and Ceridfen took over. Lumi, at the request of his friend Joulupukki became a member of the Village Council and eventually the Council of Six.