Long Dogmas Poems
Long Dogmas Poems. Below are the most popular long Dogmas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dogmas poems by poem length and keyword.
President Olusegun Obasanjo- Atiku Abubakar
Promises of pardoned traitors
Reek like ancient regrets.
Exhibitions,
Steeped in rapacity.
Inured to light, they
Dominate blindly
Evoking the same air of oppression
Noteworthy of the days of yore.
Traitors in transit, trampling as they go.
Over us, they bellow.
Lording it, they rule
Under the guise of foreign dogmas,
Silence all demanding.
Egocentric beasts with rotund bellies
Gloats with our reserves.
Unaffected by the groaning of a people
Nestled in penury.
Our Overseers,
Behemoths, disguised,
Assiduously make us the
Shame of the whole world while
At perfect ease with themselves.
Neglecting the many sufferers about, they
Jostle for private vaults in Zurich as
Our poverty became their riches.
And the bespectacled gargoyle
Trenched in the prison called Rock.
Impervious to all wisdom,
Kept an unholy vigil as
Undertakers beckoned suddenly.
Archetypical simpletons, they
Bask in gaudy wealth
Untouched by the miseries surrounding them
Building high walls to keep prying eyes away.
Atop Hills, perched like Vultures,
Kleptocrat searching for new honour.
Aglow in oily garbs, they
Regale themselves, as the world looks on in amazement!
While fingers on her right hand tickle the ivory
And a finger on her left hand keeps place in a book
Her mind wanders off to some distant place
As the daydream paints her face with a stoic look
Perhaps she dreams about the composer of the love song
Or is lost in the narrative’s descriptive tale
Perhaps her reverie is centered on some other thought
A secret her expression will never tell
Intoxicated by the aroma of freshly cut flowers
Influenced by the cross that adorns her smooth neck
The daydream removes her into another world
Where her surroundings and dogmas she can forget
And, every man taken in by her beauty
Left contemplating about this mysterious scene
Wonders if ever there was a young lady
For whom he was the lover in her daydream
Under the sky of revolutions, the architects of absolutes rose,
cloaked in the pride of dogmas, their words bleeding on the edge of new chains,
shouting freedom while forging other shining shackles,
and the air smelled of paradox, each faction a sharp blade
cutting its own throat, all in the name of continuous progress,
but how many empires must suffocate under the weight of their beliefs?
A circle of fire that consumes itself, preaching the destruction of the old world,
stones fell, virtues disappeared, leaving only the threads of chaos,
in their eyes, ideals were not mirrors, but sharp weapons,
fragile when faced with harsh truths, they forgot that pure light also casts a shadow,
radicalism blooms where doubt dies, but the roots rot unseen,
any doctrine, absolute in its marrow, becomes a noose for those who question,
the prophets screamed about justice at any cost, but without mercy, tyranny only changes its form,
the ground trembled not from the weight of righteousness, but from ignored cracks,
history is a wheel, oiled with blood, spinning under blind convictions,
they danced blindfolded to the music of their own destruction, a question floated in the ash:
what use is a kingdom of rubble when the architects are buried beneath it?
In the end, they did not fall to enemies, nor to gods, nor to the passage of time,
but to their own reflection, a thousand truths warring until nothing remained
but silence and smoke rising from the ruins of a shattered dream.
To live means to be alive, to defy unfulfilled moralizers,
Digital prophets marked by the compulsion to preach,
The trendy ideologies of the day, without hesitation, without end,
To be alive is to touch destiny with the hands of fate and become worthy
Of the breath that vanishes in the great adventure of death,
To break away from the safe shores of the ordinary
And plunge into the pure tumult of life, to rediscover
What it means to be human, to atone for the sin of unraveling.
To be alive means to be your own master, teacher, leader,
The pioneer of your own life, venturing forward
Toward the primordial flame in the darkness, not letting them
Stifle the eternal beats of your heart.
To be alive means to love your solitude,
To bring to light the treasures found only in the silence of solitude,
To follow the creative impulse regardless of conventions
And public opinion, to follow your inner calling.
To be alive means to wander through meadows and over mountains,
To be an eternal traveler in search of the sublime,
To be radically present when the trees rustle in the afternoon wind,
To live each season as it passes, to breathe the air,
To drink the drink, to taste the fruit, and to surrender
To the influence of the earth, to escape from the dungeon of dead dogmas
And decrepit creeds, to yield to the subtle whispers
Of the neglected part of your secret essence, to plunge
Into medieval depths and recapture that authentic LIGHT
Of your own BEING, to unveil your divine madness and dance
Once again with unimaginable joy in the vast muck-heap
Of this fallen world, to live each day as a theater play
Where you are the leading actor, and the stage is vast and full of mystery.
War if fought by those who have firm ideas
By those who are inflexible
Those who have never lived on the streets
We stand up to set the world on fire
To make her think
To open her horizons
War is fought by those with dogmas
That encourage young women to wear black veils
Those who say we do not judge, but never stop
We stand up to set the world on fire
to burn those veils
To free the captives who did not realize a better way
War is fought by those who have never tried
New ways, new ideologies, new freedoms
Those who have been in chains since pre-birth.
We stand up to set the world on fire
To sing our homeless hymns
To cherish freedoms status quo will never understand.
In the shadow of reason, a forsaken house can be glimpsed,
An forgotten place, where memories are just pale echoes.
In the pockets of the soul, unachievements linger,
Massive dreams, lacking the spark that could be.
On the field of reason, a freshly-sprung meadow stretches,
And that familiar white fence, vanishes into the void of dreams.
The word "important" gets lost, melts into oblivion,
Nothing from "in reason" leaves traces in the world of revelations.
But when you abandon reason, you unshackle the chains of the impossible,
It, the brother of reason, two faces of the same mythical being.
One spits fire and brimstone, the other lives without hope,
Together, eternally bound, Yin and Yang, in the dance of times.
They were once a purpose, a subtle promise of the possible,
They had a "something", a "maybe", a fine thread of hope,
At the end, only a pale echo of a forsaken dream remains.
Dream of gates opening,
When "impossible" is erased from your restless heart.
In the depths of darkness, in the cry of "no",
In the absurdity of abandoning reason,
There you will find the essence of metamorphosis,
There where the perfect circle of invention was born.
With the black shovel, dig through bone,
Through the skull, touch the core of thought,
Cross the heart, the depths of being.
There, on the fine line between madness and enlightenment,
There is the path, the untrodden road.
Forsake reason, leave behind old dogmas,
Fly on the unbounded wings of freedom,
Show your true nature, unleash your wild spirit.
Let the lights shine, let the scene of life ignite,
DANCE!
In this mystic journey, beyond the bounds of reason,
In this dance of the liberated spirit,
Discover the world born from the abandonment of constraints,
Where genius and madness meet, in a waltz of transcendence.
It seems there are self-appointed disciples who've nothing else to do,
Except propound their inane dogmas to assail folks like me and you!
This nation is being torn asunder by a few people acting on their own.
Why can't they find productive things to do and leave the rest of us alone!
I find it offensive that Christ and Christianity are held up to ridicule.
With absolutely no apologies to anyone, in my house He alone will rule!
Now if others should happen to have a different point of view,
That is fine with me, but leave me alone to worship in my pew!
There are those who want any reference to God to be ignored.
Remember, "Blessed is the nation Whose God is the Lord!"
Prayer is banned in the public realm and is prohibited in public school.
Separation of church and state is fine, but shouldn't common sense rule?
Our nation's flag, that shining beacon of hope for this troubled world,
By some of our own people is scorned and at it profanities are hurled.
Seems that some folks use The First Amendment as a fuzzy cloak,
To justify most everything with a screen of mirrors and smoke!
Some folks are easily upset if what you do or say ain't politically correct.
I hereby aver my Declaration of Independence and such twaddle I reject!
I'll say and do as I please and if it offends, sorry, I'll continue on my own!
"Progressives" may do as they please, fine, but leave us other folks alone!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
A Ghost of a Chance
Life is set up from start
A dogs life
Pops take me out for a drive
She begged
But it was too far just for16 dollars
But every turn of the beaten road makes life more truthful Down and outs waiting for you since birth
fortune is blind to wishes and wants
living to the end is just not possible
To answer a question are you comfortable
Soldiers left killers writes
The book of ghosts
Ill take an hour on the cross to free humanity forever
Somethings have no guarantees
Who is taken i
s talking to you
By force
Who can trap anyone who isn't looking fierce
Or being the robot of doom or dogmas friend
Sense populous reclaiming scant scratch and bite abandoned dreams remain
Identified as those to bomb
To lose or never have had
Humanity
We can't win without a voice
It'll be the end of my days
So who will breathe for tomorrow
To and from an end and a beginning
To those just entered
A World without sleep
Throw back identities
Who now breathes the stagnant air of a distracted youth
Swallowing silently
A quick portray
A fools way
To be left on the streets
Bleeding the blood of betrayed
Of getting the boot out of Hollywood
A follow of Cristian sneezing lemon dust
Chance of love after smile
Chance of a thrill
After a growl
No Kings
Just amens
A ghost in the house
Spirits run
Chased by demons screems break through
Waves of oceans
You cant wait to fall asleep to share a spot with those who made you strong
Make them yours
Don't kid yourself even if your shoes are stuck in limbo waiting for the roll
of a criticàlly impaired
pair of dice
I cannot be a monk, for time's elusive flow,
No today exists, no tomorrow in the past does show.
In this transient realm, where moments swiftly flee,
I seek solace in the present, where life's essence be.
Yesterday's echoes, they whisper in my ear,
Yet their tendrils fade, as new horizons draw near.
No dwelling in what was, no dwelling in what's to come,
For the now is the vessel where my spirit finds home.
The chant of yesterday's prayers, a distant lullaby,
As I dance with the present, beneath a timeless sky.
No robes of solemnity shall adorn my weary soul,
For I am a wanderer, embracing life's ever-changing role.
No cloistered walls confine, nor rigid dogmas bind,
Instead, I wander freely, with an open heart and mind.
In the fluidity of moments, I discover my own grace,
For life's truest treasures lie within each fleeting embrace.
So, I cannot be a monk, in realms of distant dreams,
I choose to be alive, where time's eternal river streams.
No today to mourn, no tomorrow to forever chase,
I find my purpose now, in this enchanted space.
The stars have shifted, the veil is torn,
From Pisces' slumber, a new age is born.
No longer shall man imprison his kin,
The Age of Aquarius is rising within.
Pisces ruled through blind belief,
Built empires on conquest, cloaked in grief.
They carved up the world with sword and creed,
Fed on fear, on power, on greed.
But now the waters pour from heaven's jar,
To cleanse the world and heal the scar.
Not "us" and "them," not kings and sheep,
But souls awakening from oceans deep.
This is the age of brilliant minds,
Where truth no longer hides behind.
Genetic codes will dance with light,
And bodies heal without a knife.
AI shall dream and stars we’ll reach,
Beyond the dogmas churches preach.
The herbs shall speak, the crystals hum,
The age of knowing has begun.
No more shall skin define the throne,
The Black Sun rises on its own.
For Africa — last to feast, but first to birth —
Shall stand and lead the trembling Earth.
Youth will rise with fire eyes,
And tear the lies from dusty skies.
New gods shall walk with humble feet,
In city skies and forest streets.
Old books shall burn, old chains shall break,
The world will bend, the world will wake.
Floating towers in the air,
Peace on Earth and stars to share.
No one shall govern with a fist,
No soul shall vanish into mist.
The cosmic heart begins to bloom —
The death of prisons, the death of gloom.
In Leo's light, Aquarius sings,
The child shall lead, the soul shall bring.
A time where war is laid to rest,
And man remembers: he is blessed.
For what is coming, none can stall —
The rise of the One inside us all.
The end of fear, the fall of fame —
The age where all become the flame.