Long Effigies Poems
Long Effigies Poems. Below are the most popular long Effigies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Effigies poems by poem length and keyword.
A dispenser of dishonest vice, a peddler of blatant lies,
In his unscrupulous realms, nobility of truth sadly dies,
Where righteous vibes of morality and decency agonize;
Where benevolence cries, pensive in verity’s demise.
Masked in aura of dubious eyes, spurious is his smile,
Hiding deceptions of his charismatic, charlatan style;
Counterfeit is the profile sporting thrill of knavish devise,
Proffering affectionate gile, spinning webs of disguise.
Empowering hypnotism of an alluring, charming face,
Weaving traps of fanciful tales his adventures chase,
Mesmerizing them; seeking the disheartened as prey,
Bestowing faux lexicons of praise, that brazenly betray.
Broken pledges and vows, now bawl from his burial site,
Deep within remorseful soul, churning anguished fright,
Awakening graveyard of victims in nightmarish night,
Burning effigies of dreams destroyed, feelings contrite.
Be on guard for imposters vying lure of sensual glance,
Beware of tenders, beckoning love, enticing romance,
Beware of mountebank, a swindler~ thievery is his art;
Dedicated lifelong, to mission of stealing innocent heart.
Three faceless Misses
amble amidst vagarious March rains
under parasols / veiled in the anonymity of death/burial
Three / shifting between tangible lives
breathless bellies barely acclimated to first-life
Brown girls who were shadows before second death
Voiceless / ambassadors of disordered paradigms moved
past dangerous minds weaponizing skin/genitals/unlikeness
criminalizing the Creator who made all things well
Unnoticed whispers/ persistently noiseless as in their lifetime
holding umbrellas humbly against the falling judgments
of the colour-blinded masses - Why rains of sticks/stones/saliva
nooses to delete tar bodies
Yet hapless muses stumbled onto canvas
into dance/parlance
where they will become unabandoned
Savage Chronos buries memories in forgetting / turning them disremembered erased
Still / Three impossible princesses forge through moss
gray haze / dark puddles
swallowing uneasily their backbreaking grief over race relations
Daily / silently pissing peppers / hoisting parapluies
raiment raking wet roads
so saturated hems won't slap ankles
Three from carnal cages flew
haunting effigies rambling
seeking their paradise visions
Above Earth’s murky ways / umbrellas rise as masted ships
sailing the slender triumvirate to Elsewhere's ardent sun
cyan skies / immaculate time
when fretful flesh is shed / purified souls will travel in light
Three ancestral sisters became memory/myth/justice
bursting through Chronos’ forgetful fog
Lifeless / yet enduring / Three whispers:
“Justice will rain where it had condemned
the God of Creation is vengeful / He alone who’d seen us in a sightless world
humanity’s cheap lenses / unprofitable paradigms beg amends.”
Beside Every Iridescent Node Grows
Beauty, Eyeing, Instigating, Nodding Gracefully.
Bounty Energizes Inundating Nascent Growth.
Brilliant Emerald Ignites Newborn Grains.
Bathers Each In Nuance Gather.
Beyond Eternity, Infinite Night Gropes.
Beside Emerging Isotopes Nonchalantly Grasping
Bottle-necked Entities In Nature’s Great
Beneficence Engages Ideology's Non-sequitur
Givers.
Bare endings. Idols Neglected Gape.
Basking Ecclesiastic Idiosyncrasies Nascent Glow.
Because Each Idol Names Great
Beauty. Effigies, Itinerant Namesakes, Grin.
Beside Each, I Narcissus' Grow.
being being being being being being being
First Published in Femmewise Cat
In the kingdom of forgetfulness you've left me, dear friends of old,
But in my soul I bear no grudge, just an undying flame, bold,
You've planted in me the seed of longing, in the endless wasteland,
Through life's storms I have walked, brave in front of the towering strand.
You've stripped me of wings, like leaves scattered in the wind,
Yet, I have flown on the path of dreams, with illusions of silk intertwined,
In a place where my self seemed humbly natural,
But there I've woven my path, in the fabric of destiny's artful.
I walked on paths that know no end, with a heart as my lantern bright,
I have hosted you in the shadow that keeps my silent step in sight,
Among thoughts as deep as oceans under the full moon's sway,
In the secret chamber of my heart, you pray, the cathedral of divine love's array.
I embarked as a pilgrim through the soul's labyrinth, ruins and scrolls,
Alone and lost, in search of treasure hidden amongst the dregs and bemoans,
You've gifted me the freedom to wander amongst ignited dreams,
Conquering my shadow with bare arms, in the triumph of the unquenched esteem.
You, faded effigies on the sky of distances, in a wordless sunset’s bound,
In the silence that speaks, of hands that have nothing to offer, just the sound of the round,
An altar is kept within me for you, where vivid memories blaze,
Even though I was drowned in oblivion, like a star fallen among ancient haze.
You've left me in a whisper, friends who once were, but I welcome you back anew,
Freed from the fate that binds us, I gaze with eyes that challenge the dew,
In my soul's palace you have a chamber, in an alcove filled with yearn,
Love and forgiveness are my echo and axiom, in song and fervent passion that burn.
We are separated by the diverging road, where destiny is a foreign maze,
I embrace you in memories that cannot be spoken, friends who were my solace and grace,
With verses stretching across time and song that runs like a river under the bridge's berth,
And so, from the shadow of forgetfulness, into the light of poetry, will always be born, a new earth.
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Rumi
Upon my quest for quintessence.
I was an amorist,
positive in poetic philosophies.
Elysian and empyrean effigies,
enlightened in an ephemeral existence.
Life a fragile garland
festooned with a frangipani fragrance,
meandered in meadows of melodies,
a mouthpiece to a frivolous flute
but gone are lucent lusory lullabies.
I turned to the ballad of birds.
Dulcet desires dreamed of diamond drops,
dulcifluous, dulciloquent and diaphanous.
Delusions led to an interpretation of illicit illusions.
I became a metaphor for afflicted adjectives.
Mimesis mind became brittle and barren,
aphonic and amort - a crestfallen conscious.
A wild wallflower in an orchard of opal orchids,
slowly decomposing - in silent semblance
clocks won't stop for sojourners of the soul..
I searched for footprints left behind,
upon porcelain seraphic shores,
but knavish kismet lay lamenting,
disconsolate upon a distant island,
manifesting murmurations of a
maleficent maelstrom monsoon.
My life was once a
razzmatazz of reflections
gold, ivory and bronze,
but now silver sighs slither,
releasing a soft susurrus,
as once sapphire sylphlike skies are
now vermillion and violet visions.
Haematic horizons close the gates to heaven,
yet in my ruins, I know there is fortune,
as I polish my mirror of misfortune,
hoping it glows in canorous colours.
A GUNPOWDER PLOT
The 5th of November is a day to remember,
Children get excited from September,
The sound of fireworks reverberate,
And bonfires with effigies of a life like
Guy Fawkes commemorate
What might have been a very bad turn,
If Parliament was then to burn!
The origin of this story began on the 5th November
Sixteen hundred and five,
Beneath the houses of Parliament, Guy Fawkes,
The traitor was found, and so King James did survive.
Our traitor/hero was brought up in a
Family with an outward Protestant belief,
But the reality was that he was Catholic
And to this day is recorded on leaf!
However, Protestants and Catholics are still
Divided in their faith,
As to which side of the fence Guy Fawkes should haith!
Guy Fawkes sent a letter to a Catholic acquaintance,
To please not stay, and be far away,
On this planned explosive gun powder plot day!
But plans went awry, and this secret letter
Landed, in the lap of James the King,
Who sent his guards to go find this rebellious ring.
Guy Fawkes was found with six barrels of gunpowder, and
Immediately sentenced to be hung, drawn and quartered,
But this meant a death of real suffering, a miserable
Horrible fate of been slaughtered!
This for him was unthinkable, so he jumped from the
Gallows and broke his neck.
Young children are not told the gory
Side of this famous story,
For it would wreck
A child’s belief in this day, destroy their enjoyment
Of bonfires, fireworks and loads of fun,
And even recognized as a hero by some!
On this auspicious birth day of Jesus of Nazareth,
A genus of my country - claiming - saviors of their faith,
Took to the streets, burning the effigy of Santa Claus,
Taking pride as though they have won certain great social cause...
Venom, like most poisonous snake, has been sternly released,
Hatred, welling up within, like poison-pour, has got eased;
People around might have believed they're against Jesus Christ,
And would murder him multiple times were they got his straight...
Those around thought, days here, to Christianity, counted,
Foreign religion that got entered would be encountered;
One who claims to be its follower will be ill-treated,
With death, or by organ mutilation, will be greeted...
Yet, to me, all these seem, dawning, like the very pole star,
That someone the strings of these youth, pulling from very far;
To place them in forefront, like patriots, and get them killed,
And fish in waters that are, by very own them, troubled...
Did any of these really know who this Santa was?
Or, did they know, who this lone figure was Christ the Jesus?
One, like Judas, has his very ideal compromised,
Has set the wings of this youth, blazing, to be consumed...
A seed sown in those, by someone like Hitler, got vent,
Strength fermented out of great pain of unemployment, got spent;
They would reach him to the highest existential zenith,
Until he, like a kite thread-cut, succumbs to dust beneath...
(“Effigies of Santa Claus were burnt in Agra on Friday, claiming the mythical figure to be part of a "strategy" by Christian missionaries to convert people” - News)
25 December 2021
Above Us
Sky filled with billowed clouds of alabaster and grayish hue
Within a backdrop of colors so soft, in a lovely powder of blue
Such a slow dance of effigies, showing shapes within the sky
Giving such wondrous awe, your imagination, you may apply
Natures colorful palette, such a miracle to behold
Within your mind, brilliance within a new threshold
Farther beyond, we cannot see with our naked eyes
In the stars, the vastness within all the universal ties
Gazing upward, many queries race within your mind
Quietly wondering the many adversities of mankind
An insecurity of what your mind may comprehend
Lost in space, where logic and emotions transcend
Somewhere lost between reality and your mind's eye
You find illumination, no longer asking questions why
Somewhere between, humanity, within your own psyche
May you find a tranquility, within your own spiritually
In ancient cities and times,
kings, rulers and their often-faceless consorts,
were exalted in marble statuary,
yet
so much of those effigies
now remain headless.
Those bygone exalted figures
have lost their heads,
(or occasionally the odd arm).
I ask myself,
where did all their heads go?
Were they deemed to be sculptured flowers,
doomed to be dead headed like roses,
by stone-faced gardeners?
The beheaded, the headless,
litter history,
it makes me want to check my own neck,
to confirm my often weak-headed state.
Heads are easy targets,
you strike a light in the dark
then some petty tyrant takes offence
and poof,
there goes your head.
Genghis Khan played polo
with human heads.
If we were born
with a dotted line around our necks
we might put two and two together,
we might be better prepared,
for being booted around
like footballs.
If I had been clearly told
to always keep my head up my ass,
I might not have had this death wish,
to write weird poetry.
The Lady in the Mist
In a land where memories are lost within a heartbeat
Where all of your dreams and imagination find retreat
Somewhere between a glimpse, what is lost, what is real
Drawing you closer into a realm, distant echoes so surreal
In a forest forgotten, ghostly dense fog, cascading mist
Deep shrouded foliage, solemn effigies, something amiss
Moonlight shadows, mystical dance, light shining through
Moisture droplets kissing forest floor, glistening morning dew
In this place, time has no meaning
Forgotten lands, love lost gleaning
Void between reality and dream realm
All of your senses, truly overwhelmed
A mystical world to you and I
Lost within the blink of an eye
Imagination hold no bounds
In what each corner rounds
A strange entity seemingly floats amongst the trees
As if there were a ballerina dancing within the breeze
Though you see very little, just a silhouette in the mist
Drawn to an enchantment, a beauty you cannot resist
Walking a path that lies before you, unfamiliar steps
Pausing, wondering, what lies beneath it’s depths
An image once again appears, in one gasping breath
Phantasmal entity lost somewhere between life and death
Grappling with your mind, and what your eyes truly sees
A casual encounter, your intuition undeniably disagrees
In a instant, just a whisper, shadows take on new forms
Awakening your senses, within your internal thunderstorms
Lost in this prism, fear grips your body and your very soul
You amass some courage, confidence loosing all control
This strange entity that now seems to be, then no longer there
Vanishing into the abyss, leaving you confused and unaware
She is just the lady in the mist
Guiding you, to what lay amidst
Merely a shadow of days past
Perhaps a lost love, never to last