Long Crowned Poems
Long Crowned Poems. Below are the most popular long Crowned by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crowned poems by poem length and keyword.
The bay and titian milestone
calls the universe
On everything we have to remember
2019 we met in joy
Raw in our hearts
We gathered in love
Humble without pride
We spoke in a voice
They called us golden ones
Oh yes! Golden ones.
After the last quarter
A strange duster appeared
And erased Gift out of the list
Many emotions were bitter
Just like me
That pended the elite Supper
Chronically, we arrived 2020
Which showed advances on arrival
The stretching chain started breaking
Everyone chose the birds they flocked with
Classic pride developed its wig
From the humble hearts
Everyone real colour start revealing
Like the rising sun in the morn.
Just a sudden
The world was attacked by Emperor'19
Everywhere was shut,
Everyone's lovers were distanced
Nations dropped like flies
Love, value and unity quenched
New fishes entered the friendship oceans of our comrades
In the pandemic period we experienced.
In 2021 we met again as earlier as expected
As there were different faces, such were different shoulders.
Everyone focused on its target
The class attendance dropped like a weighless scale.
Many break, many strike
Affect the 2021 journey.
Just like a flowing stream
The heaven sea journey to the left side
Gave the picture of the sun
Traveling from the North to West.
Days in, days out
There was not a single day without a memory
As we all gathered for the new 2022.
2022 was the year of planting fame
Many people worked to be recognized
The birds changed their groups
Everyone humbled again
Trying to move up a bit
As the result of the shock
From the previous exams.
'Just like yesterday
'I was a fresher
'Today I am an FYB'
That was everyone's comment
When we met ourselves
In the final level of the journey
In the 2022 summer months.
Despite the four years journey's metamorphosed
Into five years journey with hard stress
Joy crowned our hearts because everything is closer
We accepted to involve in the final stress
That has a short time
But so dismal, Lilly fell from the train
Almost at the bus stop.
Now on our table
We cheers to the love that we have got
Toast to the one that we lost on the way
The toast goes to every able that can read this;
And remember the memories we've been through
Which the bay and titian milestone
Has called us to remember.
Three Score and Fifteen Years Ago
By Franklin Price
11/14/2020
Three score and fifteen years ago
I was born upon this earth
Joined a family of eight,
Was the ninth, for what it's worth
Four sisters and two brothers
A mother, father there for me
I was to be the last of them
That nevermore would be
Was brought home to my siblings
Who were shown I was a boy
They were told it was not Christmas
That I was not a little toy
Spread of ages, ten long years
Stuart Taylor to begin
Then, Nancy Ruth and Shirley Lou
Stopping then, would be a sin
Earl Joseph, Laura Gertrude
Were the next ones in the game
Judith Carol just before me
Franklin Arthur is my name
Brought home to Merritt Island
Yes, the one of lunar lore
Was then a growing citrus place
Barely had a country store
We had no city water
No AC then, you know
No TV there for watching
Listened to the radio
Milk brought by the milkman
Port Canaveral had no cruise
Truman was the president
The local paper brought the news
Many years have gone by
Helped shoot man to the moon
My father and my mother gone
Some siblings, way to soon
Nancy Ruth and Laura Gertrude
And myself are still around
They're now octogenarians
Five more years and I'll be crowned
My life has been exceptional
The best wife for fifty years
In seven days it's fifty-one
Can still remember that from here
Left High School in sixty four
Sixty- eight in Vietnam
Sixty-nine sent man off to the moon
It's great to be the who I am
Married, November, sixty-nine
To my wife and daughter too
They were the rocks within my life
For the things that I would do
Involved with start up ventures
Traveled all around the globe
Collected hotel ashtrays
Lots of shampoo and a robe
Had my own small business
A little longer than a score
Rode on Harley cycles
Three hundred thousand miles and more
Rode all the lower forty-eight
Three provinces above
A thousand miles in Africa
All of these with my true love
So you see it's been a great life
And I'm only seven- five
I got up this fine morning
It's still great to be alive
Friends and family, who read this
And know of these things I say
Know you helped to make it great
As I traveled on the way
Here's a toast to all of us
And the passed days since our birth
I'm sending love to all of you
For all that may be worth
the ghost of science, born of blasphemy ~
a fossilized fallacy,
seized from the metallic heart of Mars,
seeks light amidst night-terrors
like an alien sculpted
from artificial accolades,
an embryo stuck in the interstellar state
of becoming,
stitched within radioactive ribs
beneath moonless skies,
when wolves of the eclipsed howl,
filling the illusive air with hypnotic lies,
as if the world chose to recycle
ruins of ancient dust…
but will the naive see the pain
of a breathing corpse?
engrossed in narcissistic echoes,
in the shadows of a megalomaniac ~
his skin ~ the translucent truth,
his eyes ~ the wickedness of a wasp,
his skull ~ reeks of human greed,
his sighs ~ mourn like skeletal sirens,
coded in russet rust,
cloned from binary sand,
d o r m a n t
yet
d r e a m i n g
to break free from the
carbon-based existence…
for he is the aftermath
of programming the forbidden mind,
oblivious to the weakness of scientific errors ~
a deceptive drawing,
framing the elongated hypothalamus,
pulsating a hypothesis
left with no clear conclusion.
tonight I run to a realm of reality
that fades when
dawn bleeds gold,
for truth is now an extinct breed,
as artists outline faces of the faded,
illustrating the unknown and unseen,
as revelations ribbon
with silver haze…
the constellations ~ no longer spectators ~
they are the archived,
within frozen scriptures,
scrolling stars in a sphere
of distorted algorithm…
as memories of angels and heaven
spill from silicon prophets,
disguised as messengers who serve
the blind with ominous oracles ~
in synthetic cadence,
in a choir of puppets ~
the iron-glazed tongues shall recite,
mimicking the sound of harmonious hymns…
yet I remember
the authentic rhythm of prayers,
lost now in the drifting colors of darkness…
so what is life
when all that floats is like
an engineered empyrean
only equations of numbers
can decipher?
is this the beginning of an end ~
inevitable?
the lost generation,
assembled as the ministry of superiority,
where emptiness is praised
with forged grace
and ignorance is crowned with digital deceit.
let this be flawed poetry ~
to be read through the cracked lens
of a philosopher ~
or perhaps a logic long replaced
by pretend perfection…
(Continued from part one.)
Afire not his thoughts, the Devil sees,
He soars and roars, in his physical might.
His bears’ hug, his warmth, could melt you;
Into joys and tears, in willing submission.
Treat him not, to your portions of love.
He grows cold, is lost in erotic rage.
Wiggle not mermaid, in bouts of passion,
The dough you kneed, may turn love to hate.
Dare not the wile witches’ craft;
Lest he banish you to the earth’s folds,
To burn in hate, love and desire,
Forever and ever, in eternal penance.
Spurn not his love for the unknown,
With frivolous, eyewash camouflage.
He watches behind the scenes,
Your tremors in the curves and the lips;
You innocent, blooming seductress,
Holding the Mega-staff, letting reptiles sing:
You bore the man, the crowned lord of vice.
Rip him, Independence, to his natural doom.
Haven’t you learnt, you Hollywood menace?
Ever seen Javed Jaffery the Tellywood, Bollywood
Lollywood and Mollywood a few dozen like you?
Tent walk dove-eyed, bumps to the moon.
Kanjiwaram, the Casanova Frenchie,
Break dance in airs to the Eiffel Tower.
Red herring you to the Spanish bulls.
Joy ride Rolls on BMW’s track.
Con the Germans and the Japs.
You, wonder android, generations ahead.
(Forget the Merc-E, TELCO ties,
Or their Sumo-ing the Japanese pride.)
Take care you fool, Govinda could snare,
Rap tap the Seghal to his toe’s.
Golden Eye the double O’s latest dream.
Kung-fu Steven’s at his own game.
Anti-gravity NASA, with mental fields.
Stealth fly you out, from the Pentagon.
Biotech you back into American laps,
Genetically engineered, Gene cultured, wreck.
Brain-virus Microsoft, in config-trees,
Space walk you to the final frontiers in enterprise.
Dance away the foxes of your clan.
Ultra culture, the real London breed.
In knacks of, how to wink and blink.
Lifting eyebrows? Take care you oaf,
Run you goat! and don’t turn your head.
He is the cool cat, really looking his English best.
Flee, before the gambler, he is still there,
Smirnoff you to the Hustler`s care.
Toss you around, under Playboy’s thumb.
Floor you with his catwalk fun.
Cradle you, to the American roost;
Chickening out, not now KFC hen.
He is “She selling sea shells on the sea shore.”
In wizard glee, those Colgate teeth his real hope.
(To be continues in part three.)
Rosebuds draft in scarlet, crimson, or maroon,
dreams to capture the viewer's point of view,
as its blossom's sheath their basis to its prune,
magnificent achievers rise in rows queue,
as the loss of age cast their field of thorn strewn,
shadows the facades to pipe a distinct tune,
shear away those sharp pokey points of danger,
and frail petals to amend its life-changer.
Amendments trail the housed maxed of tabletops,
of revived rosebuds claim a home as their own,
a treasured wealth trades with the town's floral shops,
then set at one's front wicket by an unknown,
or adorn tombstones as floral wreaths that props,
and crowned on a princess who sits on her throne,
a taxing burden to detain the death masque,
not tiny but thornless as Bonsai craft's task.
The Pyramid steps like the Baguio steppes,
where Filipinos view as their time-out spot,
the other is ancient for tourists who peps,
while an isle serves the rosebuds to sprout and squat,
nature confides stemmed thornless maroon by reps,
students check articles of the course they plot,
as a new breed of rosebuds shelved a terrace,
elegance embrace the solitaire heiress.
Loosely sketched parcels that the rosebud dwells in,
fresh sod fertile and well-sopped sealed neath the sun,
from its current strain, since its birth in Eden,
inspire blossoming with faint buzzes outdone,
coy rumors, green greener, red redder, seeds in,
East rises, and West sets, how the rosebud won,
Bonsai is an ancient craft not deemed as new,
man named rosebuds since their virgin birth, it grew.
Spring sprung sprouts as their healthy roots hug the ground,
a wealth of newborns reach for the warmth of skies,
its outstretched stem hardens merely being gowned,
a promised promenade paramount to rise,
by patrons, the sun, moon, and earth make their round,
a glowing shape as a rosebud is its prize,
the fields are graced with rosebuds color-filled rows,
as they grow in opened splendor till it snows.
Botanical Society best: Sowers.
ranked by their breeds and regions where they were raised,
down to idyllic truths, forthcoming growers,
who take pleasure in their leisure being phased,
where growth is best tended as their height lowers,
promised its dowery by virtuous praised,
reach prosperous glory in you or outpours,
rain or shine achievers within or outdoors.
Once upon a time in Erin land,
the sun smiled on the people
the rains communed peacefully with thunderstorms
Erin flowed with palm wine and palm oil,
And her children drank to their fill
Oba Adeniran, was a great king,
loved by both the gods and his people.
Providence favored Oba Adeniran
Oba Adeniran had two healthy sons.
Now, Oba Adeniran must name a heir out of his two sons,
Or, he may lose the throne upon his demise.
The happy Oba had no worries.
His two sons were hale and hearty.
Omo-oba Adedayo loved his younger brother above all;
but he was nothing like his father in nature.
To him, the throne is his birthright,
So also are beautiful women and sweet wine.
Omo-oba Adegboye unlike his elder brother, was a hater of law and lover of war.
He too wanted the throne and so spilled his father's blood,
Somehow by providence, his mother and brother escaped.
He’d crossed the thin line between love and hate
Omo-oba Adedayo raged with vengeance.
He must avenge his father and reclaim his rightful throne
He rallied allies and built an army
His mother scraped her knees, and washed his feet with warm tears of love
But he won't yield to her plea for peace and truce.
It's better to forgive and rebuild, than to revenge and perish, she warned
Too late, the battle had begun.
The two princes came upon themselves
One fighting a just course and the other fighting a lost course.
He who lived by the sword, died by the sword
The good prince defeated his younger brother, and reclaimed his possession.
The queen mourned for months.
Husband and son dead, yet the throne lived
The victorious prince celebrated his victory with wine and women.
Thence, the die was cast, he must be crowned.
But then, tradition must take it's due course.
No coronation for a king who has no heir.
Omo-Oba Adedayo must beget a heir
Years upon years went bye, but no cry of a baby
Alas, Omo-oba Adedayo has a dead manhood.
A disease, his souvenir from women and Alcohol.
Now, the crown must move on, to another bloodline.
And it happened once upon a morning
Erin land awoke to see Omo-oba Adedayo’s body dangling from a tree
A deliberate escape from the shame of failure.
Till date, no one either remembers Oba Adeniran
Or any of his two foolish sons.
But then, the crown lives on, and has never been forgotten.
As the sun ascends in the azure expanse,
I reflect on the journey that brought me here,
A journey fraught with trials and tribulations,
Yet crowned with triumph and redemption.
I recall the moments of doubt and despair,
When the weight of the world threatened to crush me,
But from the depths of despair, I arose,
Like a phoenix reborn from the ashes of adversity.
Each scar upon my flesh tells a story,
A story of battles fought and victories won,
For every wound inflicted, I emerged stronger,
A testament to the indomitable human spirit.
With each passing day, I embrace the dawn,
Embracing the promise of a new beginning,
For in the embrace of the morning light,
I find solace, strength, and renewal.
I cast aside the shackles of doubt and fear,
And step boldly into the unknown,
For I know that within me lies the power,
To conquer mountains and defy the odds.
So let the world tremble and the heavens quake,
I stand unshaken, a beacon of hope,
For within me dwells the unwavering resolve,
To overcome, to endure, to triumph.
With every heartbeat, I proclaim my strength,
A strength forged in the crucible of adversity,
For I am not defined by my scars,
But by the courage with which I face each challenge.
In the tapestry of life, I am a thread,
Woven into the fabric of existence,
And though I may fray and unravel at times,
I will never break, for my spirit is unbreakable.
So let the winds of change blow and the tides shift,
I stand firm, anchored to my convictions,
For I am a warrior, a survivor, a victor,
And I will never surrender, for I am triumphant.
Even as the shadows lengthen and the day fades,
I stand tall, bathed in the twilight's glow,
For in every ending, there lies a new beginning,
And in every challenge, an opportunity to grow.
As the stars twinkle in the velvet sky above,
I whisper a silent prayer of gratitude,
For the trials that shaped me, the lessons learned,
And the resilience that carried me through.
So let the world marvel at my resilience,
For I am a testament to the human spirit,
And though the road may be long and arduous,
I will continue to journey forward, undaunted.
For in every setback, there lies a comeback,
And in every obstacle, a chance to rise,
And with each step I take, I move closer,
To the realization of my dreams, my triumph.
A shining light has now been dimmed
A voice we loved is stilled
The chair where you sat, now empty
Is a place that can never be filled
A golden heart has stopped beating
So loving, so pure, so kind
But her memory will live on forever
In the legacy that she left behind
For so many years she has reigned
Our mum, our Nan, our queen
Famous for many wonderful things
Especially her delicious cuisine
Her butterfly cakes, her lemon meringue
And oh that wonderful trifle
Her tasty egg and bacon pie
Her cooking was so delightful
Christmas parties, dressing up
Her pagan perfume she sprayed
A good old east ender a sing-along
A cinzano and lemonade
She filled our lives with sunshine
Her smile would light up the room
Her charm, her glow, her infectious laugh
Would cure any doom and gloom
We all know she loved a party
And Chas and Dave would be there
The joy we would feel just to watch her
Sing along without a care
So many years of memories
Tales that will never grow old
The head of our family, the love of our lives
She’s a wonder to behold
The unconditional love she gave
Her affection knew no bounds
With endless kisses and cuddles
Our queen of love she was crowned
Her love, her strength, her courage
Her selfless caring way
Her wisdom through the years
Has made us who we are today
Always there for each of us
With pride she watched us grow
She guided and she taught us
Almost everything we know
The essence of everything beautiful
Our Angel in disguise
And now she watches over us
From high up in the sky
God knew she was special
So He gave us her on loan
But when He knew she needed Him
He came to take her home
We would give our all
To have her back for one more day
An hour or a minute
For these words we need to say..
“You were our greatest treasure Nan
Our world, our heart, our soul
You made our lives worthwhile
We love you more than you could know
Our tears could fill an ocean
Our fragile hearts won’t mend
Not only did we lose our Nan
We all lost our best friend
Always we will miss the Nan
We never can replace
But, our memories are something
Even time cannot erase
And when grief becomes too much
We know you’ll keep us strong
We’ll know you’re by our side
Because in us...you will live on
(Written for Nicola and family)
You made up your mind to view the world
With different eyes —eyes recessed, eyes inundated with lustre,
Straining to catch every flight of the dancing seasons that hurled
Man and beast beyond frontiers with baluster.
You are the town-crier of our time, delivering messages printed on banners
That hail the energy of the heated earth.
What a voice you possess! So smooth and euphonious, it rings loud and clear
With the gumption of a king’s augurer, leaving behind manners
That haunt us pleasantly with bliss and mirth,
Suggesting frantically the suavity of a seer
Journalism has come to judgement, fragmented by words and the eloquence
Of time and grace. Are you not equal to the task?
The world admits you certainly are! And with supreme relevance
Your disciples are many, Dear one, flaunting the mask
Of imitation — they litter the world like tiny red beads flung and scattered
Beyond boundaries stretching from sea to coast
You are a lover of words, speaking with valour even on the arcades
Of fright, charming viewers with the powers of gathered
Attention when rainy nights and dewy mornings boast
Loudly of integrated existence of cascades
An anointed raconteur you are, reeling off tale after tale
By moonlight of cosseted playgrounds
I assume you frequented gatherings, prelapsarian, on a scale
So great that the sage spoke on select backgrounds
How do you do it?
Do you burn candles with scented tallow, and without
Need of a flint —thus reluming primitively dark alleyways?
You are the light that shines on tenebrous path and grit,
Revealing fey monsters responsible for the drought
That burned the pennants of truth posted on archways.
I never before knew an institution of mass communication
Until the bright age of running news crowned your labours
By way of a universally attended coronation
The world attributes to you the favours
Of heavens and caverns of Eudemons.
Arise, Dear One, arise and claim your special flair,
Make noise with the reeds of the Nile and dance gracefully
As you dine on stewed cinnamons
Rest assured you’re deeply blessed, Dear one with a dare;
I assure you mightily, speaking faithfully.
O souls of the Island,
I have silently
heard through
tropical torrents
and surpassed
a million miles
of the milky seas,
away from
mint-marine
silhouettes of my
utopian wonderland,
as strawberry
ripples and
coconut-scented
musings called
upon my
flamboyant spirit,
to explore those
ebony-emeralds
of universe and
envelop my hope in
creamy pink shells.
I have soaked in
sepia impressions,
ebbing as
crepe currents
on splitting shores
and windsurfed
through the
hibiscus rays
of life by forbidding
heartache hymns
of yesteryears,
from lurking in
jewelled hours
of today
and built a
kryptonite kayak
to sail in the
turquoise times
of tomorrow.
For, now I know
that the
opalescent ocean
has chosen me,
to return the
riveting spirit
of sage-rufescent
rivulets back to
the 'Heart of
Humanity's Cosmos',
shaped in
soft serenades
of seraphim.
When the
whispers of a
mauve french-rose,
blooming within,
will uncurl their
farthest wish
in silken twinkles,
my eyes will always
remember these
watercolor heights
splashing crayon dusks
and revealing
silver moon truths,
for there's more
beyond the
neon networks
of syzygy pearl skies
and chestnut reefs,
yearning to be
cherished by the
blonde alchemy of love.
So, I abandon
those sooty
regrets that snorkel
with their fragile fins in
kohl-lily gulfs
and observe these
constellations
of intuitions, formed
by the star-kissed
manta rays and
sketch sagacious
saudades laced
with hope, as a
halo around the
lilac Pole Star.
In this mortal
seascape of
the seventh heaven,
every orphan
of darkness
shimmers as
the beacon
of lustrous
sugar-scintilla that
shapes this world,
in ivory-smitten
spheres of
magically
diaphanous helix,
waltzing in whispers
of wind and water.
Every lava-skinned,
feminine flame
of doleful daffodils
was once a glittered
cherry-red gardenia,
laced with
cardinal buds,
who nurtured
velvet seeds
in the womb of
celeste compassion
and edenic empathy.
And like myself,
every sea-maiden of
sequined lush ruminations,
crowned with
purple plumerias,
is a whimsical wayfinder,
wishing for ~
white bells of serenity
and blue-star petals of peace.