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.
It's quite obvious now:
"The they" are preparing for life deep underground.
Placing final ribbons around subterranean cities.
Stockpiling sustenance
Water being siphoned to top off cisterns and privies.
The Amazon, Tigris, and Euphrates.
Superior, Michigan, and Erie are all being drained.
The surface people will be left scrambling for crumbs
in the phlegm of nuclear holocaust.
They'll devolve into hunter-gatherer clans.
To become a twisted reality show for subterraneans.
"The They" who trafficked us and ate our babies
will make a game of it, placing bets at our expense...
on who will perish -who'll be left.
Then, when the earth is somewhat cleansed.
"The They" will emerge to barter with metal from our teeth
pin our cross/bones to their puffy pigeon chests
The rest will serve as sex slaves, servants, and jesters
in the post-apocalyptic bed, "the they" have knowingly made.
A new day awakens in a bonnie Scottish Glen
As I await the morning sunshine peeking over the Ben
Standing at the door of my centuries old croft
The wild fern's arise as the rays makes them loft
A calming soothing trickle delights my morning ears
Meandering through purple heathers as it's done for many years
Hooded crows show their presence, then silence in quietness fall
In timid look they perch, as they hear a Golden Eagles call
The baaing of the sheep resonate from down the Glen
Freedom to roam they are in the land of crofting men
Above the sun now shines amidst a sky of Saltire blue
This land of clans and tartans, through my eyes you'll see my view
Upon the grass I sit, as I marvel at my surrounds
And my desire for a maiden, to share my Highland grounds
A mid morning stroll I take to absorb just where I am
I start thinking to myself, "aye I'm one of Alba's sons"
Amidst these inlets and islands
Lies a land of a patriot nation
Where clans decree their might
Together in mixed relation
From the Lowlands to the Highlands
Family names of a forgotten past
Deliver us to their present
For these surnames are here to last
Sunrises and sunsets have so greeted
Many a morn and an eve has been seen
To be born into such a nation
Through their eyes, you see just your dream
For to be born on the land of the heather
Through Glens of bracken and fern's
Birthed into one of their clans
Your first breath you have duly earned
Amidst these inlets and islands
Lies a land of a patriot nation
Where clans decree their might
Welcome to Alba, the ultimate creation
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/ed-unitsky.php
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.
If time travel were possible,
the period I would want to visit most of all
would be that time long ago,
when Europe was covered with snow.
When we walked Among the Neanderthal.
Two different species of human,
but still very much the same.
Our common ancestor evolved differently
due to climate and terrain.
*****Heidelbergensis emerged out of Africa
into Europe and Western Asia,
but then the ice age came and the species became segregated
due to vast deserts, seas and glacier.
The ice age gripped Northern Europe.
Polar conditions were most of the continent.
*****Heidelbergensis then evolved into the cold adapted Neanderthal
and became Europe's only human resident.
The Neanderthals were territorial and they lived in small family clans.
Limestone caves provided most with shelter,
it was a limited resource upon this frozen land.
The caves the Neanderthals lived in were the center of the Neanderthal’s universe.
Within the cave walls, the Neanderthals would bury their dead and give birth.
Within the cave walls they would eat, they would sleep.
Within the cave walls they would butcher their meat.
Within the cave walls they would groom, they would mate.
Within the cave walls they would even defecate.
Within the cave walls was the safest place to be.
Outside was the harshest climate known to humanity,
in an unforgiving terrain filled with wild animals stalking them,
as well as Neanderthal males stalking other clan’s women.
Neanderthal clans did not interact with each other at all
and this was perhaps their biggest and greatest downfall.
Limited contact meant limited viewpoints and limited exchanges of ideas,
and so the Neanderthal's limited survival techniques
remained the same throughout their years,
But meanwhile,
back in sub tropical Africa, somewhat simultaneously,
*****Heidelbergensis evolved into a warm adapted human.
*****sapiens, Us, You and Me,
As the climate grew warmer we too migrated up north
into the Neanderthal’s stronghold.
Neanderthal extinction was about to come forth.
Within a few thousand years, the Neanderthal ceased to exist.
The small size of their clans made them vulnerable.
They couldn't confront or protect or resist.
To continue click NEXT for Among The Neanderthal Part 2
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
Here i sit
In the Country of my Scots
We are Albannach
Celts, we are taught
For many, many years
Our clans have fought and fought
Races have invaded our shores
But our freedom can not be bought
Our Clans are segmented throughout my lands,
in times of good we are in clannish dispute, and in
times of hardship, we congeal and unite as one
My questions and words, if you are there
You are obliged to listen, as i am here
If you are a teller, your words should be strong
Do you speak like Semaj, like his words do belong
I see these scrolls, from many years in worlds past
Written by elders, hidden to last
Their words of wisdom, powerful they may be
Come with me to the future, to the land of thee
These indigenous lands, spirits so free
In natures portfolio, they are the decree
For over two thousand years, religion has ruled.
Have we been taken in, and now in blinkered rule.
Do we look back to the Heathens, the Pagans the Mayans
where we look to our leaders, and their suppression
we rely on
Scriptures, books and scrolls, the writers of wisdom.
The elders of nations, in current living kingdoms
Without a book, there is no story, no paragraphs,
no believable glory.
In the modern days before 2012, in the world of Semaj
words can be heard. Tittle tattle about this and that,
once our worlds gone, that's that
A word in your ear
From father to son
Hear the word that I say
I fought with you
Fought on your side
Long before you were born
Joyful the sound
The word goes around
From father to son to son.
( Lyrics by Queen of Queen II )
My entry into Matt Caliri contest " If i Could Talk to God "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-6.php
*SON OF NOBODY*
I was born in the Trenches
In the walls and roof with no fences
Drank from the seasonal rivers
Trust me we knew no povereties
We labour to live and not to gather properties
On the water different catch was our only envies
And when father went hunting
Meaty dinner was sure with my aunties
I was a son of nobody
And i lived with no enemy
Aside hunger I had no worry
Simply respect for my elders
My care for my little brothers
Much love and prayers to my ailing mother
And cold fear to my scolding father
That was my life, a son of nobody
Known by nobody aside my clans
We speak less in in the midst of numbers
Contented in my little
I craved nothing much than stomach
Take no candy from a stranger
Just be nice and pleasant
For the good you do to others
And the pain you inflict on the vulnerable
You'll live to reap the reward before you die
The simple life rules mama taught us
I was a son of nobody
Living to wear danshiki
Dancing with the masquerades
Our joy at the new yam festivals
Dusty feet at the market square
Stamping to the rhythm of the ancient drums
Cheering to the women in aso-oke
Wrapped round their bumpy chests
That was my joy a son of nobody
Under the thatched sheds made from raffia
Where mosquitoes bring no fever
But the angers of the gods pollute the streams with cholera
In my beautiful village where snake venom never kills
But the abandoned diety can cripple the children with polio
Tales of our grandfather's told at moonlight
Hero that fell the elephant with his cap
That was how we wrapped our days
Son of nobody had his lullaby
I'm just a son of nobody
Living my life with no worries
Dreamt of a day I'll be somebody
Meet a princess from ivory
Make plenty children of my own
Whom I'll tell my stories
Here I am a child of many glories
As told in the witch doctor's story
All the talks and thoughts feel funny
Because after the story of the big glory
Here I'm still a son of nobody
She would be queen, oh if indeed she could
after all, she's been where others stood.
So in control of e-mail trolls
she believes herself far better in the know.
The queenly rule is not just a presentable display
as her silent king makes hanky panky in the hay.
She's stern and forceful, once secretary of state
keeping her close inner secrets on her plate.
A pantsuit-wearing globe-trotter
with a desired rule set on her blotter.
But be sure she can be over cautious
quite averse to taking risk for fear of losses.
Negotiate she did and will
but haven't we already taken the same bitter pill?
Too many historic clans
hold the path to freedom's stand
Just two hundred years have come
the dynasty and monarchy never seems undone
They return and take control again
and to the power throne ascend.
The impressive buildings on the Glasgow sky
Compliment life on the River Clyde
With its many secrets it cannot hide
But that is life in Glasgow.
From the understated Squinty Bridge
And George Square to Buchanan Street
Makes it hard for a "Weegie" to leave
But that is life in Glasgow.
A "Weegie" takes the good and bad
Supporting a British with Scottish flag
And tension flows between the clans
But that is life in Glasgow.
It's music and it's celebrity stars
Do not hide its gangster past
No such thing as a "Weegie" facade.
But that is life in Glasgow.
Glasgow life gets under your skin
The richness of a life it brings
A melting pot of good and sin
But that is life in Glasgow.