Long Cunning Poems
Long Cunning Poems. Below are the most popular long Cunning by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cunning poems by poem length and keyword.
Digging deep into my mind
Past the guilt and invisible binds
A soul is stirring so impatiently.
Who is that other person I might find?
I know she’s in there somewhere.
Standing tall and strong
This me scared of my shadow.
While she’s has been there all along
The other me inside is beating.
Beating hard against my chest
I keep her locked away and imprisoned.
Afraid someone will like her best.
For she was wild and frivolous
With no concern who knew
Broken hearts a spinning carousel
As she served a noxious stew.
Yes, I remember her vividly.
Rebellious with defiant eyes
Underneath a web of deceit
To get tangled in her flawless lies.
Discerning and cunning
she’d spit you back in your own face.
Some days played along the dirty game,
ever cautious of the pace.
Her dance was bare and haughty,
her body on constant display
never cared who was watching,
when she came out to play.
Laughter loud and boosting
her smile a clever shine.,
Never to trust her intentions
for she’d cross you every time
Voices sharp and cutting
Musical notes that produced no sound
Her world was vast and open,
bur feet never got off the ground.
She is the person I once was,
and sometimes I still wish to be.
its best she stays locked away.
Buried deep the broken key.
I’d still like to pick out parts of her,
but cautious of what I would share.
Piece us together internally
For we’d make a perfect pair
Nonetheless my fierce warrior
Reining resilient and supreme
Running restless and heroic
as I see her in my dreams.
Flipping through the errors of life
Correcting every mistake
A different existence without fault
In the decisions that I now make.
These days I sit behind a desk.
Shrinking more and more each day
Discontented but surrendered.
For this is the price I now must pay.
Every misdeed has a consequence,
and consequences hold a return.
Flashing shadows of yesterdays
In the lessons you must learn.
The Illusion of Wealth
In vaults of paper, riches lie,
Where bankers print and fortunes fly.
Our mothers sold dreams wrapped in gold,
While the rich just watched, growing bold.
Education, a shadowed veil,
Controlled by those who spin the tale.
Rockefeller’s hand shaped the clay,
To keep us blind and lead us astray.
From 1903 to now, the game’s the same,
The ultra-rich set the rules of the game.
In schools, they teach what suits their needs,
While we swim in ignorance, blinded by greed.
Assets and liabilities, a maze of lies,
Where the rich disguise their cunning guise.
They cast their nets in murky streams,
Catching us in their twisted schemes.
Fake assets sold with a polished sheen,
Savings, stocks—illusionary dreams.
While real wealth flows through unseen hands,
The rich grow richer on shifting sands.
Mom and pop, their hopes in a jar,
Sold a future that won’t take them far.
Their retirement, a costly bet,
While the wealthy live without regret.
So follow the cash, trace the lines,
Uncover the truth where deception binds.
I offer wisdom, untainted and free,
In Sandton, where clarity can be.
No trading signals, no false allure,
Just real knowledge, honest and pure.
In a world of shadows, let truth be your guide,
For in the light, true wealth resides.
(Dedication: For Michael Zachary, my son)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sense this knowing: can the blind see?
Homer still sings fond tragedy.
Troy was a thought where siege was laid,
A war well fought as heroes paid.
Love and hate doomed to mortal rage,
Ten years once groomed that fatal stage.
Such fine faces like Archilles,
Hector traces with Odysseus.
Proud Agamemnon did hoard the sands,
Trojans beyond the high walls grand.
King Priam spied Greeks' battle scream,
Aegean waves plied the battle scene.
The rise and fall of heroes there,
The bitter gall of curse and swear.
Both sides pitted to furious fights,
Even witted, no end in sight.
Clever tactics at Troy did sway,
Loss most drastic for each did stay.
So many years the battle raged,
Proud lives and tears on either page.
Weary battles and bloody mess,
Souls now brittle with sure duress.
So many dead in bloodied sand,
The feud most great in defiant stand.
Now crafty thought brought idea grand,
Odysseus's plot to win war's end.
A hollow horse as token gift,
A rousing toss for Troy's uplift.
Greek ships slipped round to hide away,
Vanished fleet found with deceit's play.
This cunning ruse worked with sure craft,
Troy seemed amused with hoarding draft.
Dragged the wood crypt within the walls,
Stupor and script tell of Troy's fall.
In dead of night when sleep wrought themes,
Greeks murdered fight in Trojan dreams.
Homer the blind brought us grand sights,
For here we find our saving light.
Now we can see the fight go on,
Harsh as can be here and beyond.
Wars and battles reveal who's slain,
Man's not gentle who lives harsh gain.
We think and speak to weave fashion,
Give in to streaks of ambition.
The hunter hunts the chase until,
The victim grunts to turn and kill.
Troy and her days remind us still,
Live truce that pays in wise goodwill.
What of Helen who is part myth?
Fond beauty turns a timely drift.
A lovely tale of human gore,
To now assail that love lives more.
Thus all the world remembers well:
Dear heroes swirl just where we dwell!
Leon Enriquez
19 November 2014
Singapore
In the arena of wrath, patience takes hold.
A silent predator, waiting to unfold.
With icy breath and a frozen heart,
Revenge embarks on its chilling art.
The thawed memories of a bitter past
Linger in the shadows, refusing to be cast.
But time, my friend is a cunning foe.
It knows how to mend and let blow.
Patiently, it weaves its intricate design,
Akin to a spider spinning a web divine.
It waits for the idyllic moment to strike.
To cast justice on those who inflicted the spike.
The hours turn to days, the days to years,
As revenge simmers, fueled by silent tears.
But vengeance is a dish best-served cold.
And time ensures that God sees it all unfold.
Written: June 15, 2023
Notice nice noise
Verbal verse voice
Thrill thoughtful think
List laughing links
Belief bakes bread
Rich rapture raids
Fresh fragrance fair
Dream daring dare
Line lively lines
Vouch vibrant vines
Fling fable form
Nice naughty norm
See sensuous sights
Live lovely light
Write wonder works
Juice jumping jerk
List lovely looks
Buy blooming book
Mull moving make
Trust toilsome take
Play pines pure proof
Truth telling truth
Cite clever crook
Bring baking book
Empty each eat
Finder's fond feat
Gain gracious greed
Flatter force feed
Sign special say
Dreary dream day
Mime mellows mime
Time telling time
Charm cunning choice
Values verse voice
Play precious poise
Numb bulling noise
Leon Enriquez
01 July 2014
Singapore
I stumbled into a village of gold and brick,
The sound of life a chime to the homesick.
There are gardens, a butcher, furnaces,
Whose warmth seems to ward off the morning mist.
Their smiles bloom under a rising sun,
Their world sealed, their imagination gone.
Looking closer-something’s not right,
Their faces are bathed in a familiar light.
I’ve wandered into a village where every face is mine,
A secluded world, lost to time.
Here they (or is it I?) work in lost abandon
The hammer, the plough, the miller in unison.
Toiling to the chime of an old church bell,
Habits that create physical heaven,
But mental hell.
I ask them why they are here;
They smile a joy so pure.
They claim they've found a meaning true,
And point to hills in the dusty hue.
They warn, "Beyond these walls lies fear,
A treacherous path; death is near.
So, stay and bask in comfort’s mouth,
For peace is what we've long sought out."
But I could saw what they could not,
Their joy, a scam my fear had bought.
They were not me, though they wore my face
Just echoes and doubts reflecting in a mental cage.
The mind is cunning, a clever guide:
Persuasive and manipulative,
It builds illusions wherever uncertainty lies.
Like a dog trainer,
Feeding me “what if” after “what if” as we walk.
But I see beyond this gilded veneer,
This ancient, crumbling hamlet;
Just a dead-end street in a dead-end world.
I don’t want to stop here,
In this fake, imaginary dreamworld.
When will I not love you
shall there be a distant flame
flickering beyond the warmth of
an Indian summer's sultry breeze
When will I not love you
will the sun rest on top of giant
umbrellas dancing heavenly
about sparkling shores
When will I not love you
shall the roaring tides rise
over broken sea shells
sending the tiny crabs back
inside hidden cubby holes
When will I not love you
will the standing vessels finally
set sail upon the calming Voss seas
cunning seduction banks of marigolds
from ancient good byes as new worlds
collides gleaming about sullen memories
When will i not love you when
Cunning like foxes,greedy as hyenas,they looked at me;
With widened eyes and wet lips,ready to grab me,like an angry lioness;
And tear me like a beast and swallow me like the shark that swallowed Jonah.
I had become a bad child; as bad as war,
And they could no longer tolerate my naughtiness.
They remained silent without saying anything like a word
But beneath their silence piled a heap of anger and rage
And they breathed with fury, wishing to only take hold of me,
And teach me a lesson,that I would live to remember.
My mother was against me,just like her dear husband
They said I was an ungrateful daughter,
Because I refused to eat from the same plate with him-
The man they had prepared to marry me off because of his money.
He was a Methuselah of the previous century;
And he had been classmates with my father.
My people wanted to sell me off,they were exchanging me;
Their blood; for coins of shillings that last not longer than lust.
They were determined to see me off like an unwanted visitor.
But, I stood my ground like any other person who desires to live.
I crossed lines to tell them they were doing wrong for the first time,
And they said I was disappointing and selfish.
They scolded me,yelling at me and calling me an evil child.
They were living their life,I wanted to live mine,
To be a better woman who could move many and change many.
I wanted to go to school for I was just fifteen and had seen little of the world;
If it was waters of the ocean,I had only tasted the surfaces;
If it was heaven,I had just started to climb Jacob's ladder.
I know not better than crying and licking my tears,
And that is exactly what I did, weeping like death was here to take me.
I called upon the ancestors of my clan to rescue me,
I looked up to the skies,tracing to find my redeemer.
I cried to my sister and brothers, I begged my people for help,
And I was willing to involve the authorities, for my education was my life.
The vows came with agony, the ring would come with suffering;
And I was not ready for any of this, I would fight till the end;
For this was my right as a modern girl child!
In local park you’ll see her foraging.
In every litter bin she digs deep down
To see what precious prize there hides away.
With ginger overcoat and auburn hair
She is the cunning urban fox at work,
Scattering and leaving rubbish here and there.
She has her large shopping trolley in tow
To collect and transport her daily takings.
All of that nasty plastic she rejects
And filthy dog pooh bags she flings afar.
But all those drinks cans have real value
As she can sell them for some ready cash.
Part eaten pizzas pieces she unearths
And provide her with a welcome working snack.
Recycling other’s trash is Sally’s game.
And lots of free pickings she takes each day.
It’s how she lives; she feels no shame.
In local park you’ll see her foraging.
"The Hope Thieves"
Colours change chameleon fast
The Hope Thieves
steal dreams to make up
for their own lost lives and fast-draining
upside-down hour glass pasts
In their hearts a million silent cries
In their minds a million worlds collide
Lost, cunning and sly, they drink up pure essence of Hope and Trust
like blood sucking vampires patrolling the crowded underpasses and
the jungled overgrown potent gardens of trysting rose-glassed lovers and soothsaying sage-green poets
They exist as shadow people dark and full of shallow notes
In their lives a million reasons why
In their world all doors shut inside
They exist on the outside
Looking for the key to open their own home doors wide
Lost husbands and brides, petulant, deriding The Others,
Ghosts of romantic scribes finding freedom in wide open Blue Skies
The Hope Thieves
steal dreams to make up
for their own lost lives
Colours change chameleon fast
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/rQiyyoLF05A
Emika/Take Me for a Ride
“Becoming a vampire means completely changing your identity.”
https://youtu.be/jG6s7W9yG_c
Emika/Mouth to Mouth
“The strength of the vampire is that people will not believe in him.”