Long Dragons Poems
Long Dragons Poems. Below are the most popular long Dragons by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dragons poems by poem length and keyword.
O The Pestilence ripens in the fields
as pest harvests the shops and till
Harvesting of diminished yields
To !REAL CONSPIRACY!
Sovereignty-PIRACY, tips the scales of justice,
feilty, unity, irony
A question mark with its answer
Written on the wall with pen of blood
and filth of ashened wills
and cheaply boughten thrills
Civil Wars and silencing to seal the deal
O Self Righteous Mew Martyred Lost
unto
Dragons breath, and the
Crows counting the cost
Line by line
into perdition we go
Design upon design our Statement
of Mission creep O Ord
Bony fingers, Blood Drawing Board
Like Moths to a drain
Of
Energy
Of misconceived pipings; O synergy;
creams never veined
Of suave salves,
dealings of those that have only vain,
not the have nots but
Hearth-wicked flames
Unwritten names
half hooved of Thoth-Baphomet and the
Long-Toothed of his stage
The storm born, they,
Catching mud in your eye
Rebirthed, stalled, aborted by skanky sway,
mucked dry
Are we rebirthed anew, awry
Eating our own tale of condensation
A trail of compensation trys
O The Pestilence ripens in the fields
as pest harvests the till
of diminished yields
To !REAL CONSPIRACY!
tipping the scales of justice,
feilty
The Treacherous Dealer deals Treacherously
Swat at your reality again,
Shew it away, once upon a dream
Fly off the handle,
do not debate rationality
Buzz in the garbage of backalley deeds,
lift up your back wings
Carrion to 1984 vid-19
Green screen
transitioning-to the scheme
Tampered, temper in lock step fashion
"we won't remember"
Country by Country,
seamless as its been, lock, stock and barrel
full of fun, funk, funking, really?!
SINS
O Unanimous consent!
Magnanimous, calamitous,
NO surrender NO repent!
Red flash blurry in sights
Walls smashing tuna and mint stew with potatoes and garlic
Mercy they cry I sing with bliss
Ten toes Edgar remembers
Five fingers a head of mystery
Shadow dragons battle me
Juniper waves of Love
She is so amazing I am so glad she exists
Understanding oceans divide
Quake their blood is fresh
Ruby eyes clean and sharp vision
Warrior spirit Milk toast delivery
Champagne in my vicinity
Warlock drug lord shaman kneels to My Best friend King of Kings, Dreadnought arisen shamrock
Allocating all decisions to my Physician Yeshua true doctor and healer
Waco York Perth Renton and Eugene Oregon
Albert needs to treat their disabled people better
Wake up speak out fight for our rights!!
Disabled people matter!!!
This morning, my yard was hopping
with squirrels and rabbits busily shopping
for pine needles, berries, and cones,
perfumes, oils, and sweet colognes,
to entice partners for this evening's bebopping.
The fox said to the wolf in a huff.
"We're making this problem way too tough.
You take that goat, Sandie,
and I'll take that lamb, Randy.
And we'll split Porks, if that ain't enough."
There was some tumultuous to do
in the pouch of mommy kangaroo.
The twins were jumping and springing,
doing summersaults and singing,
making mommy kangaroo ~ so blue.
Tiny birds scooting across the street,
hopping on their three-toed, little feet.
A car misses them by inches ~
they'd be dead if they were finches!
Tiny birds! Get off the street! Tout sweet!
I chanced on a cat as big as a bear
who was all covered in grizzly, brown hair.
He was cornered by a mouse
as big as a house!
And guess who there was trembling in fear.
"You look like a million bucks
in your elegant white tux,"
said the ravenous wolf to a lamb.
"But though you look pretty in it,
don't think for a minute
I'm not gonna eat you, cuz I am."
Two smart crows peck at a road-kill cat,
plucking bits of liver, lungs, and fat.
Crow one inquires of crow two:
"How's this feline tasting to you?"
"Much finer than last week's sewer rat."
A third of the ducklings is three,
waddling behind Mama Shérie.
If a duck is a bird,
and three is a third,
how many birds do you see?
Life in this big old fishbowl
was never quite completely whole,
till Wally the walrus
came to dwell among us,
and gave this fishbowl some soul.
Oh, kiddies, please be alert!
Here live dangerous dragons that squirt
all manner of green ire
and orangy hell fire,
and if you get hit, you’ll be hurt.
The waves break at my ankles bucket in my hand. I picture what my life would be in a Castle made of sand. The view would be so pleasant, from the windows that I look. My Queen would have so many riches that of a story book. With dragons to protect her and all that she can dream. Eyes of darkest turquoise with a little touch of green. Her skins as soft as silk, teeth as white as pearls. Hair as long as the Castle walls with never ending curls. We’ll ride into the sunset saddles made of gold. Bodies ever so close oceans waters cold. All our dreams will soon be gone, washed away in the early dawn. My heart pours out for all to see. I dream of my Queen to be with me. Although alone I remain a man, my Queen and I walk hand and hand. I picture what my life would be in a Castle made of sand.
Somewhere at some time
A man looked at the sky
He saw gods and heroes
Drifting above
He told their stories
Stories of dragons and demons
Of wars between immortals
Enhancing their lives as he spoke
The stories were shared by a thousand fires
Each telling added to their glory
Made them more powerful
Then the stories became legend
People fought and died for their gods
Lived their lives to honor their heroes
Time passed
The legends faded into stories
Stories turned into myth
The myth became a subtext
Hidden in the words of a worn out textbook
A textbook that no one reads
When did we stop believing?
Where can we find that one man?
That man who’ll look at the sky
A man who will see gods and heroes
Maybe he will tell their stories
And they will live again
The magic lies upon the the page, just pick me up you will be amazed
Knights upon white steeds, fighting dragons and saving damsels
The written word is often said to be the saviour of the human race
hero's made as dragons slayed, and wizards spells on young damsels laid
Pick me up and turn the page and help me save the heroine
Robin hood and maid Marion fighting greed, and doing good
Pick a book and open it up and let your imagination run a muck
Robbing the rich is robins game .and saving fair maid Marion .
Without a book you would be stuck to fire your imagination
In far off lands our hero's stand up against the federation
It's the love of books that inspire the next writing generation
So let get back and save Luke and Leah from annililation
Thorn of the Rose
Beware thy fragile gentle sweet rose
When a dragon holds you to his nose
With those nostrils that ignite and flare
Or thou will no longer bloom so fair.
Burned to nothing but a brittle crisp
Dragon will then place you to his lips
He’ll gobble you up in one swallow
For you there will be no tomorrow.
Weep not my elegant fragrant rose
Some advice for monsters to oppose
There's a way to chase danger away
So you'll live to bloom another day.
Though with grace and beauty you were made
Show your thorns and do not be afraid
The terrorist must then set you free
As the wounds would sting him profusely.
Once again your tender heart will sing
Songs of love and magnificent things
I have a message for would be foes
Dragons beware the thorn of the rose.
23rd February 2021
The twigs of March drip, and dangle ~ late in the day
birdsong returns. New veins leach in the leaf
there are florets of sap-sweet offerings.
From oracle rings earth worms rise up from a mud,
then wade-in to wet nurse the soil.
For the young, this is a time for naked toes
and muddy faces. For the younger, the land suckles
with its bare hands. The old watch the seep,
hear the suck of a million open mouths
beneath the leak of muddling mists.
New birthed lambs bleat to be fed,
be strengthened against returning lions.
March is kind only for a spell, for who can tell?
There are rumors of dragons in coming winds.
For now, young shoots struggle forth
there is a quickening reach, a tufted greening.
Dens and drays are fat with new birthed cubs
that play and mew in Marches bustle
uplifted now in a mucky coddle.
I remember the days when trains were exciting
With billowing steam they would run
Mums and dads and children delighting
Taking us off to the sun
We'd go Kings Cross where like dragons they'd roar
I'd stand by the engine what wonders I saw
They have fire in their bellies they're fed by a man
Who shovels in coal as fast as he can
Then they'd swallow us up and I'd squeal with pleasure
Dreaming of finding pirates and treasure
We were off for the weekend, a week or a day
Or even two weeks if we'd money to stay
Today trains are diesel and they never roar
They are boring and quiet, dragons no more
People take coaches or even take planes
But I'll never forget those exciting steam trains
She was a magnificent brew master, few had her talent or skill.
She liked to stir in pieces of beasts and creatures with dill.
We could smell the cloves and sage when we opened the door.
Greetings! She said with a hoarse laugh. We welcome you four!
I had brought three friends, for I was scared out of my wits.
She was the kind of woman who tore dragons and lizards to bits.
Can you loan me a hand, dearie? She asked, getting into my face.
I ran away so fast, I left my friends flat, I was on a tight race.
My friend Igor screamed and tried to catch up with me.
He ended up tripping over a lace and falling on his right knee.
I’ll get that! Said the brew master. She picked him up in a huge scoop.
He was screaming like a banshee when I ran past the chicken coop.