Long Encamped Poems
Long Encamped Poems. Below are the most popular long Encamped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Encamped poems by poem length and keyword.
When the long journey on foot is over and
the refugee drops in a tent and has hot meal, is peace;
when he puffed his first smoke in weeks, is peace;
when the sky celebrates his arrival with rain, is peace;
when he has finally ability to take a shower, is peace;
when he fixes the tear in the tent with tape, is peace;
when he smashes a scorpion on his blanket, is peace;
when he hears his wife and children about to join him, is peace;
when the news of cease-fire and end of bloodshed spreads, is peace;
when the camp is upgraded with toilets, is peace;
when he makes love with his wife after a long time, is peace;
when his kids are sound sleep and dreaming, is peace;
when he and others challenge the authorities to disperse, is peace;
when they bulldoze the camp and it's desolated, is peace.
NEANDERTHAL
In times gone by, now recondite,
Neanderthal, erect, upright,
spoke softly, tones so lily-white,
and tried to put the world aright.
He taught us how the flame ignites
that wearing furs will warm the nights,
just why the rolling wheel excites,
and how the beveled flint stone bites.
Before the days of dynamite
he fought his foes with spit and spite,
and swung big sticks with all his might,
and rendered death with stones in flight.
Engaged in never-ending fight
(arenas were a global sight)
he forced his forces to unite
to sate his oily appetite.
To quell rude thoughts that may incite
he ruled the realm with fly-by-nights
and culled the winds of words in flight,
and darkened minds to anthracite.
With fairy tales of evil sprites
and how the fist of freedom smites,
he washed the world with flames alight
to vanquish hoards of parasites.
Each dawn the damage brought delight,
the foe was bent, a bit contrite…
yet battled on with no respite
until the dusk and evening light.
Encamped beside the firelight
Neanderthal, that shiny Knight,
awaited morn while sitting tight
assured the end would be alright.
Yes, conquest seemed his sacred right…
Forevermore?… well, no, not quite…
Neanderthal's extinct tonight
and lies beside the Trilobite…
MORAL
The Oreo is round, not bright:
while rolling near the candlelight
at first the searing seemed so slight,
the molten cream an oversight…
NOTE:
This screed has nothing to do with the noble Neanderthal (whose brain size exceeded our own).
It has nothing to do with 'times gone by' (though who knows what future beings may see and think).
It has nothing to do with anything…
and even less to do with something…
unless of course, you think it does….
Day after week after month, How in Gods Earth Can This Be!
With all these lessons learned throughout our eternity.
Once again men strike with terrifying bloodshed and horror,
because man's personal agenda outweighs any honor.
A strange turn of events is occurring right in front of us all.
The Tribe of people that were dealt horrible deeds in their past causing so many to fall.
Now have taken up vengeance with deeds of their “Rights”.
To bring slaughter to the innocent, as done to their ancestors years ago in their plight.
Such terrible losses from the same TRIBE being received and now Given.
Is there any hope for humanity, where dignity, compassion and mercy is allowed to risen.
Not all are lost in the fray, with some voicing the outrage and pleading for peace by the hour.
We hope one day these voices heard, unfortunately now, men look just for Power!
When the murdered become the murderers, and the encamped become the Camp Master.
Is all Lost? No! Not if people from All Ways, stand together, UNITE, and go after,
these savage imposters who will try to fool all saying everything is Fake.
But We Will not be Fooled! Because we all see the Dead and Starving Children, left in their Wake!
Faraway, across a widening
Expanse of vacant fields,
Dawns slated light is gradually
Awaking;
And too soon new Morn's stilled
Indifference
Determinedly steals
Into the abstractions of my fitful
Dreams,
Where, deeply concealed,
Many forgotten memories from days
Since past -
Ne'er once unto me unworthy...
Although long be they in their
Forsaking.
Those languid days, that, lately,
I quite often see and hear
Crowding throughout my wandering
Slumbers;
Vivid recollections, interns of a
Jumbled mind - for ages absent,
Beginning now to inexplicably reappear;
Insistent murmurings troubling -
Troubling incessantly:-
Unwelcomed guests from
Yesteryear...
Strange impositions, of a sorts,
Burdening upon this weary soul,
Which, encamped within my
Dampened Spirits -
Doth so unwittingly encumber!
Encamped beside a clear blue water lake
We call it, Bullfrog Valley. Here, they thrive.
The labyrinth of streams the water takes
Brings insects, as the meadows come alive.
Blue herons wade, perched hawks take treetop views
Colorful fish seek shelter in the shade
The bullfrogs sing for rain, from grassy pews
Mix sights and sounds of nature, all stress fades
Late evening, we share tales around a fire
First one who tells a lie, don't stand a chance
Each time a story's told, the stakes get higher
Night breezes make sparks rise and shadows dance
As eyes begin to dry, we start to crash
A night time serenade in Bullfrog Valley
The orange glow turns into white hot ash
The moon provides the light in nature's galley.
by Daniel Turner
Encamped in the local IHOP patio
Doing reconnaissance on the butter pecan syrup
I discern its malicious, aggressive intentions:
To march defiantly down Mt. Stack
And wage a ruthless attack on
Defenseless over-easy eggs
Acting quickly, I wield my fork
Digging trenches in my pancakes
I flank the enemy, staving off
This unprovoked act of aggression
Victory!
Only in that moment do I lift my eyes and notice
A brood of young sparrows
heralding their hunger
The chevron of hang-gliding geese silently
sailing to destinations unknown
Majestic Monarchs flitting
stoically southward
And rival suitors:
An iridescent hummingbird and an industrious bee
Romantically pursuing myrtle blossoms
The canopy of cerulean blue
And all the life within its realm
Resolves my thoughts from war to peace
Note to self:
Don’t forget to look up
To some, a Garrison is a strong fort
(Or troops encamped inside, an armed cohort).
Or thoughts might turn to a centurion:
A leader of the many soon to come.
To Gwen and Garrett, he's the first-born son,
A joyous melding of these two in one
Small bundle: Garrett, seen in impish grin
And forehead, twinkling eyes that come from Gwen.
The honor that a first-born does accord:
A brief, sweet time before ensuing hoards
Disrupt the tranquil peace, the solo joys,
Wrest 'way attention, break the favorite toys.
To some, no, make that many uncles, aunts,
A glimpse into their future, if perchance
They choose the wedded way and have a kid,
More niece and nephew Gs, heaven forbid!
Of those who think he's grand, there is no lack:
Big Daddy, Mimi, Gigi, Poppa Jack.
For us, a chance to care for a sweet child,
Return him home all sugared up and wild.
A sweet aside, ’twas kidding, all in jest;
A blessing that we cannot overstress:
To help train up a child which way to go,
To see God's work in him give blossom, grow.
For midst the fun, the presents, and the cake,
We pray, entrust his care unto the Son;
Towards God's begotten, his steps soon will take,
And stride there with endurance, at a run.
----------
On the occasion of Garrison's first birthday - he's soon to be 9 now! Found on an old file on the computer, wanted to get it in my soup collection...
When on the road to Damascus,
Paul heard the voice of our Saviour.
He, who was once Saul of Tarsus,
When on the road to Damascus,
Hearkened to the call of Jesus.
Blinded by heavenly lustre,
When on the road to Damascus,
Paul heard the voice of our Saviour.
I AM that light, foretold of yore,
Manger-born; angels did herald.
I, who seek hearts, knock at the door.
I AM that light, foretold of yore.
My blood-soaked cross heals darkness sore.
Shun your ire, abandon peril.
I AM that light, foretold of yore,
Manger-born; angels did herald.
When Saul sojourned three days in hell,
Stricken with cecity, he prayed.
Waves of angst, orations would quell.
When Saul sojourned three days in hell,
In his dread, Paul's better angels
Had encamped; toward love, he swayed.
When Saul sojourned three days in hell,
Stricken with cecity, he prayed.
"Jesus Born in a lowly stable, a symbol of forsakenness became the redeemer of the whole world. It doesn't count how poor has been our birth. What matters is who we finally are or what we become"- By Poet
On a bleak and frosty night
Vexed and weary two travelers rode
Along the pathways-craggy and ragged
From Nazareth, trudging miles on end
Full pregnant, was she with child
Mary -the Virgin, suffused with Spirit Holy
Divinely ordained to bear the Godly Prince
Conceived before, she had known her spouse.
Abiding in Heaven’s Providence n’ care
They had rode past miles behind
Far too fatigued by the trip
Mary, now badly needed a place to rest.
Heading towards the blinking lights
Not far from the city’s guarded gate
Joseph sighted a tavern-small
Perched high on a tiny hill
A sense of relief beamed past
They have come at last to the journey’s end
Finally found a place to rest!
An interim home away from home
Tethering the donkey outside the gate
Joseph helped Mary alight the brute
In eager search, he hurried inside
With Mary, following with faltering steps.
But the couple, to their dismay found
Within the tavern, room, there was none
For many a man had gathered round
To halt there on that freezing night
Sundry folk from surrounding lands
Had reached Bethlehem for the yearly census
Tradesmen selling clothes and cheese
Nomads of varying clans and clime
Petulant camels, braying donkeys
The place was littered with man and beast.
The tavern small, so packed to full
Had no more space to harbor the crowd
Mary and Joseph, though dejected,
Were encamped within a manger- warm
With tender concern, Joseph joked,
To ease the strain on Mary’s face
“Gaze upon this palace of gold
Where a son shall soon be born to us”!
Mary smiled a gentle smile,
Humored by her husband’s jest
Under the gaze of tethered hosts
In veiled privacy of the midnight gloom
She gave birth to a radiant child,
The great Redeemer to all Mankind
The star studded sky suddenly glowed
With a rare brilliance never beheld
And a celestial voice trailed along
Delivering ‘tidings of joy’ to the globe around
20, December 2021
Nativity New poems Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Eve Roper
Resubmitted for Old Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
acrostic
Regiments of verse march in rhythm.
Eagerly they traipse word by word
Combing the theater of my mind.
Trying this ancient captain’s orders.
Inspired to pass the roll call of muster,
Former battle veterans re-up
Yearning for more difficult assignments.
I choose my warriors cautiously
Strategizing before and after each revision.
Attention! inspection is nearly complete.
Bravely comes the posting of my piece.
Encamped just outside the reader’s battleground,
Testing my troops for the final draft,
Treason is discovered, some soldiers go AWOL.
Enemies within, enemies without,
Renegades are dishonorably discharged.
Weightier words are chosen as replacements
Orderly guarding each post as prescribed,
Resolutions must go past mere wishing
Determining the success of this poet.
written 06 January 2016, revised 03 February 2020
Matt Caliri - Resolutions Poetry