Long East Poems
Long East Poems. Below are the most popular long East by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long East poems by poem length and keyword.
Speaker, speaker I'm listening...
You’re doing the right thing!
Unswayed from Kremlin propaganda
Isn’t how our country should swing
Faith changed; policies rearranged
Soul-searching, amazing grace you’ve seen the light
Unveilings of the autocrat,
Eluded the venomous snake bite
Boldly repelled the takeover of the Muscovite
Three foreign aid bills, thanks to you and Democrats!
Aid to Orient’s Formosa!
Aid to Eastern Europe!
Aid to Middle East!
Unwavering commitments
A revelation at the least
God’s saintly ears?
Send hope to the starving children of war and genocide
Listen to their screams and let them feast
They need YOU! by their side
Foreign war package they say does nothing for America,
Yet …it bolsters our reputation and saves our souls!
Keeps our sons and daughters home, out of harms way
Speaker, speaker Oyez! Oyez!
Now women need your help with rights of the Miranda
…---...SOS …---...
This will unfold, as I shall explain,
Again and again, more propaganda
There is a time for trifle idling,
there’s always time to dilly dally
With hard won rights now unbridling
But as for now, for our rights we rally
Crucial help for those will finally arrive
Good folks, unlike the Copperheads of yesteryear,
Or the Doughfaces, who let it happen, no ego here just strive
Women don’t live in fear!
Speaker, speaker I’m listening...
First and fourth amendment, 1864
Gone now, it isn’t anymore
Criminalizing women
Criminalize their travel
Pull over and pee on the strip!
Cops shall ask you for a pregnancy test
Ill fated, before you even begin your trip
Soon you’ll be stopped from your life’s zest
God’s saintly ears?
Send hope to the starving children of war and genocide
And for women’s automony
A unsettling Ad just viewed
Young women pulled over
Not an exaggeration
Speaker, speaker, I’m listening…
Your own want you gone,
Because to the other side you compromise and fawn,
All is music in God’s saintly ears?
You did good as statesmen should, risking all
I quote you now when you say,
“Let the chips fall where they may”
All mankind is born with Adam's Curse
filled with original sin caught in Satan's trap
in need of a substitute to take their place
it came when God's son took our rap
The Lord Jehovah came in the person of Jesus
so now there's no reason at all to be afraid
having confidence and strength to sing aloud
now I can trust in Him for the price is paid
This one has become truly my salvation
for this Jesus took my sins every one
cast them away as far as east from west
so now I know the transaction's done
Joy now fills my heart fully
with water abundant, I can draw
from wells of my salvation freely
this, my God, has eternally saw
This is my everlasting inheritance
in the true knowledge of God's word
hold fast His inerrant authoritative truth
to ignore these facts is surely absurd
('Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid: for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation.
Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation.)
Isaiah 12: 2,3 (KJV)
Sad Fate
“Have you been in the graveyard?” Asked Master Satan
Yes, I've been there, and I visited the gravestone. You asked
I talked about this in an earlier poem. The Forgotten Heroes
Sad life, sad past. Hmm. Pain is this monument. These names
Hmm. One of them is Thomas. Royal Altirelly. Twenty-five years
Hmm. There is Lilian. Aged one hundred and five years.
The same family names
Can you read this information?
Oh, so sad this story. Hmm. History
And, there is a little board
The text is tear-jerking
Harrowing. Painful
“What is the text?
Please."
Hmm
Okay
In Proud Remembrance of
Willie
Died whilst a prisoner
of war in the far east
Hmm. The same family name
“So this is a short story of a family.”
Yes
Very sad
“It’s that
God bless them.”
Hmm
Fate
“Hmm
Life”
Not a
Tale
“Hmm"
Rest in Peace
What do I have to do with thee when you keep pushing the water towards me, what do I have to do with thee when everyone keeps coming after me.
The tides are riding high and the message is radiating in the sky, get all the people out of that place and get ready for the big race.
Look at the skies above you and examine it through and through and when you see the old man in the clouds with the beard you know that sorrows are drawing near.
If you see the birds flying in different directions, you know that it’s time to step up the operation.
Pack up your belongings and join the choir and all road leads to the airport alter, don’t leave a dime behind for the vulture to commit some hideous crime. Send the heavy things in advance and carry the lighter things with you.
There is too much burden over there and the clouds are pointing you were to rebuild your life after years of painful sacrifice.
I walked along the shore examining the particles on the ground and watch the seagulls pulling worm out of the sand while the children on the other side build giant sand castle with their hands.
The snipers are all around and they bury themselves deep down in the sand with just the head visible above, they look like birds from afar and you could never tell that someone was rally there if you are not near so don’t let the seagulls ambush you , the magnetic field is rising from a hundred degree.
The boats are coming in and big missiles are dropping from the skies, the parachute and hot balloons are up there too and journey from the East lands safely on the shore.
Their mission was very clear as soon as they got over there. The snipers did not make a move, because they were wearing the pacemaker’s boots.
More than a thousand of them landed on the shore to conduct the operation from door to door.
They carry a medicine that can sniff out the enemy in a jiffy. They are fearless soldier that have no appointment with heaven, they come without a bullet or a clout and they know what fighting is all about.
The multitude is leaving the city and the trucks are moving in , the boats have flooded the shore and you have got to open the iron door. The seagulls are parading on the sea, they have an urgent message for thee so observe their movements carefully.
Laura was couer-shaped,
the way her knees blossomed out,
magenta, genie-like sheer. She blew
kisses like cultivated fleurs de jour.
Her drooping necklace, a frolic of felicity.
Laura’s bodysuit pink — a glittering
off the shoulder bonbon,
holding perfect ample
and youthful bosoms.
Sam was blond,
a sunny-yellow brooding type. As Laura
faced West, He faced East. She leaned
against his ebony suit.
He wore a bowtie, not one that spins;
a scholarly erudite.
His cerulean shirt bleeds
deep in his heart, blue skies
infused into his profound eyes.
The third party, a french painter —
a poet, a woman’s woman.
Her husband gathered the flotsam —
driftwood to hang
on my wall. Romantic
whimsy gets me in the mood.
8/10/2020
Jesus Christ
Life ground to a halt
living down a dead end street
where there's no sunlight
and shadows of doubt linger...
Till your love blew them away.
© Harry J Horsman 2021
Then East of Eden,
Flown West passed Sun
No dead end, new life begun.
The ink of poems,
And tears, all dried,
Eternal hope and peace abide.
Death ground to halt.
The streets asphalt
Shines clear and bright,
With the Son's eternal Light.
No doubt or dread
In heaven lingers,
Poet pens lyrics for
Heavenly singers.
The tears and doubts
Of dying day
Are gone,
...Your love blew them away.
In Fond Memory of Harry Horseman
in collaboration with his poem; 'Jesus Christ'
Rest in the fullness of joy Harry
With love,
BJ
She has been sobbing all night for enduring the vicious fight, she has been sobbing all night for paying a daunting sacrifice, she has been sobbing all night for enduring attacks and punches, hits and bruises, the universe embraces her, and the heavens adore her.
She has a stern look on her face, since she dropped out of the race ambition kept her alive and courage made her go wild.
She has been enjoying every moment of it even though she was slowly falling off the cliff, she wanted to go the extra mile, but she had to pay a very high price.
So, she crisscrosses all the states invoking new energy in the place. The dress made a difference but the secret society with its laced-up shoes planted a dangerous vision in the sun forcing everyone to get up and run and the heavy-duty trucks rolling down the street create a myriad of fuss disrupting my heartbeat.
The skeptic could not see it and the skies had to reveal it, two hand clasps in one and the imaginary line running from east to west, north to south crying out to the universe to change the sweaty shirt and the chaos began.
It wasn’t physical it was mental; some people heard it and spoke boldly about it and so I listened carefully, but I could not hear it.
The night continues to bear it weight on its own shoulder and the night owl with its nocturnal eyes peeping from a distance radiates a strange energy in the environment.
I wasn’t sure what to make of it so I ignored it and observe the stars cruising around the moon and the ambulance speeding down the track with a man covered up in the back.
The surgery was about to begin, and the priest was getting ready to sing the final hymn, they crowd around the hospital bed, and everyone walked in to pay their final respect.
She went down the bowling alley, but the ball was extremely heavy, she could feel the dead weight in her hand, and she could not lift the ball and so she stuck two fingers in it and knocks down the targets in the pit and the doctor begins the heart surgery.
They buried him facing East—
not so he may greet Christ,
the way, the truth, and the life,
when he returns—
but because his ancestor Deng-Aguet and his gods
rest in the East,
and they were ashamed
to look him in the eye.
The best-selling newspapers said nothing,
and slowly, but as life must,
life moved on.
The lies the morning radio sang
thinned by bits,
yet the whispers never stopped gathering.
Even louder, someone would ask,
“Did you hear about the boy who refused to be silent?”
And someone else would nod,
as if silence itself had begun to tremble.
Time passed,
and his words became ours.
They found refuge in throats
that had long forgotten how to tell the truth.
Teachers quoted him without naming him.
Preachers called his defiance faith.
Even some of the men in blue began to hesitate,
for his life haunted the barrel
they were meant to silence.
His mother, now older,
sits by the Nile sometimes,
watching the water they claimed took his life—
a story she does not believe.
Water loved him;
it was the first to hold him
when hers broke to bring him forth,
and the last to sail him farewell,
in honor,
to places he had never lived.
She does not cry anymore.
She only listens—
to the murmurs of a generation
learning to live right,
not long.
And his tombstone does not read John—
for it is too foreign
to define the life he lived.
Instead, a small sign reads:
Here lies no one.
Because truth,
they say,
never
truly
dies.
I am taking a journey on a train..
Auditory sounds of horns, whistles, and bells..
Sitting there I glance out the window..
Watching the scenery..
Lovely trees..
Lanscapes so beautiful..
So breathtaking
Picture perfect postcard it seems..
I often think about the ghosts from the past..
Whom once roamed the earth...
How was their life?
What have they accomplished in life?
One's reality is so versitile...
One's realitiy is so unique
So sweet..
So bitter..
A reality which is only created by the creator..
The creator of their own personal reality..
A spinning top spins ever so rapidly..
Often at times it slows down..
Other times it continues to spin
Full force..
High speed..
Going east
Going west
Going north
Going south
There are many destinations..
Taking a journey on a train..
I am..
The spinning top continues to spin
Where shall it go?
Whom controls the spinning top...
Controls the destination..
Creator of destination..
Of which is known..
Come with me to the secret spot and show me all that you have got, I want to light a candle to search your heart so meet me at the said spot before it gets dark. I can hear you from a distant and the entire town is getting mad, I see you standing between the frame and you are driving everyone insane. Call it what you may, but nothing is going to ruin my day, the dockets are already signed and everyone is standing in a straight line.
Come with me to secret spot and let us have a serious chat, I will use the light to search your soul and find the termites hole. I heard that it is locked between the spleen and it is disrupting your hearts beat and the treasure that you greatly seek is just one step away from you; it is in the corner next to the shrine cover with decor that looks divine; examine the corners carefully and open the center if the body and there lies the treasure that you are searching for.
How often do we get to speak? How much you make my spirit weep, I have I heard them talk of you but I have never gotten a call or a message from you and nobody has ever told me about, I wait to see if you would come but the years have come and gone and I watch the vision slowly fade but courage keeps me intact and when I go to sleep my spirit wander in deep.
Come with me to the secret spot, we are on the final lap let me tell you what to do to come out on top and push the devil back, he is going back and forth with you and is going to have a confrontation with you, you must search for that tiny spot that will shake the Universe and topple the giant rat. You don’t have much time left so do another round in a different spot in the same town and see what they have got.
The skies are getting dark and the fleet from the East mixed with those from the deep will maneuver the skies before the universe dies. You have pushed the devil back and joy has bought you a new frock, it lights up the whole world and replenish the wounded souls.
. Come with me to the secret spot, and I will show you what I’ve got.