Long Encampment Poems
Long Encampment Poems. Below are the most popular long Encampment by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Encampment poems by poem length and keyword.
Darkness clings now to war's bloody field today
Leaving haunting moans crackling from shattered bone
A stench still hangs from the human decay
And cries are heard rumbling, in a field of stone
A Legion fought with an oath they swore
The Gauls with angry painted faces, all the same
As they stepped on the dead of those they deplore
No questions asked, no feeling of shame
Moon light filters through trees burnt apart
Showing bodies down trodden from battle of the day
A clear sky lets rays light the road, the eyes can chart
That winds to an encampment, filled with dismay
These angered men, collaspe to their knees
Sandled feet blood red, as they quickly fled
Some talk loud, as they recall the pleas,
of the captured while losing their head
This Legion,these men who the Gauls now scorn
Have caused a silence, with all its fears
With moments cursing of Romans being born
These Gauls listen in darkness with collective ears
Gauls fought the Legion wild, without harms care
No structure or form, with no formation
With painted blue faces and matted hair
Rome had brought this Legion upon this nation
In wooden covered wagons on the out
Flanks of town is where you will find the
Gypsy encampment.
Do you have an inquisitive mind?
They have all kinds of entertainment
That has to be lucrative for them to stay
Alive you'll find.
Some people say their fugitives which
Keeps them on the out skirts of town
To where their confined
Yet, through their travels they've become
Quite intelligent.
They make honey sweets with no
Preservatives that are just to a dieter
Or diabetic unkind.
In wooden covered wagons on the out
Flanks of town is where you will find the
Gypsy encampment.
People arrive to have their fortunes told.
They see the signs in front of bright
Colored tents where the palm reader
And the targot card dealer gives them
Some enlightenment
To take them away from their daily grind.
The tamborine shakes and a long haired
Gypsy girl with green eyes will mystify
Any passer by steps in to the circle which
Is the cue for the instruments.
Do you have an inquisitive mind?
I guess so. The crowd moves in closer to
See rose colored lips, pearl white teeth,
Provocative hips, that are really defined.
Sway to the beat as waist length black
Hair with just the right amount of curl
Swirls with abandonment.
Her ankle length bright colorful skirt
Shows off tiny dainty bare feet and
Shapely legs as it unfurls unconfined.
See they have all kinds of entertainment.
Watch her spin, the way she tilts her chin
As you take the dance in it gets under
Your skin as a testament
That nothing can compete with the Gypsy
Girl when she has combined
The twirls and whirls to the music in her
World she is definitely in her element.
It has to be lucrative for them to stay
Alive you'll find.
Her dance is designed
As a convenient
Way for all to hurl coins of any kind
To help support their wonderful life of
Merriment.
In wooden covered wagons on the out
Flanks of town is where you will find
The gypsy encampment.
Inside Safe Brings Angelenos Inside From
Encampment in South LA
Posted on 09/12/2025
En Español
???
LOS ANGELES – Mayor Karen Bass today
announced that more Angelenos came inside
from an encampment in South LA. Located
between community spaces like Brotherhood
Crusade, an elementary school and homes, this
encampment was a safety concern to many in
the surrounding community. Through Inside
Safe, these Angelenos will now receive quality
care and services as well as personalized case
management. B-roll available here.
Every elect which detours homekey is defrauding
life saving federal agents from objective
of budget dating back to initial failure to
stay on same document header, heading
and spend replenish order.
Rights to Writing
As of eves grace
The students relieved
Enjoy the fountains waters
Music surrounds
And Liberty attends
The mind sets this way
Oft, hours draw against the setting
From another side of liberty
Very little cloth remains
Her children, remnants of wars
Counting upon the delay
Delay the examination
Very good indoctrination altruism affords
More, more of itself and attendings.
Opinion versus Science allows debate
for free speech
Thus learning is a news of choice and liberty
The vote is removed from human
Human dignity
Used to jab the raggedly tagged faggots b/c sad crabby lads have had their tags grabbed badly yet wagged their drab as stag shabbily as it was dabbed from what came from the tab that came from the lab too reserved to gab at the slab of the drab of the somewhat cab like scrap that gave somewhat of crap before it shat itself after meeting the scapula that became like Dracula before it whacked half a spatula sized radically habitual, mystical ridiculously perpetual medically perpetual cyclically repeating ritual that happens to coincide with the Tik Tok enabled cellular tested, wrestled, meticulously meshed, caressed, messy radical, half-hazardously sexual, wrecked ineffectual, critical, still not quite literal, but mimical, of a cylindrical, syntactically, sporadically, lackadaisically, unanimously, fastened to the meticulously dastardly, massed, blasted, gassed, wrestled, brass, brash, bastardly, bass-like, mass mighty, hat-having, hiss-heaving, bereaving, belief-bound of a be more than beneath the beat up and bleak beak bitten breezy bean and cheese pile of raked leaves style bowl of chips and dips script that the lady with the bloods and crips lip gives as people sit with a ship to New York style trip seem to forget as they lose their because of the tip that hits one when instead of their mitt that would grip somewhat of a catch in a fit that would lick the one who sits with the kit of the fictionally fit mystery that blissfully bit into a tic while it in turn was lit with the mix of the hysterically, rarely, heretically, medically dissed fizz of some **** that would knit a new tit because of an antipsychotic, moronic blip on the screen of some that geographically, sporadically, masterfully admittedly mentioned, could cause retention of some invention, that one would mention if only and if one was sick, with a little grit left abreast a messy Mexican directionally challenged malice but talented callous chalice wielding balanced rally style for a carousel encampment trampled on and possibly tampered with tampon treated, bleached, beaten...
She was a wily cigar chompin' gambler with the moniker of Poker Alice,
Renowned throughout the west for her skill in many a gamblin' palace!
Poker Alice had a good head for countin' and with her very cunnin' guile,
(Plus her beauty), she mesmerized her opponents, amassin' quite a pile!
Poker Alice worked in saloons across the west as a faro and poker dealer.
She worked in Creede, Colorado for Bob Ford, that notorious stealer!
Because of her pious rearin' as a girl, she refused to work on Sundays,
But she was back smokin' a two-dollar stogie and dealin' cards on Mondays!
She drifted to Deadwood, South Dakota, where her notoriety was well known,
And married a house painter named Tubbs who was a deft gambler on his own!
Later she established a brothel near Fort Mead Army Post with her ill-gotten gain.
The place was small and she needed funds to fix the 'house' on Pleasure Lane!
To expand and recruit 'soiled doves' from Kansas City she applied for a loan.
The banker scratched his skull sayin', "I dunno! That's a risk into the unknown!"
She convinced him notin' that The Grand Old Army had an encampment near,
And for the soldiers' bent for visitin' hog ranches, he had nothin' at all to fear!
Things didn't go well since she plumb forgot The Methodist Preachers' Convention,
Convened each and every year and she hadn't figured on that intervention!
Poker Alice's fame and notoriety followed her well beyond her wanin' years.
She died after a gall bladder operation with her 'house' payments in arrears!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Don Johnson's " Your Old Ballad Or Rhyme - Best Of All Time" Contest
July 2011
Existence Deconstructed
Able was I ere I saw Elvis.
He was leading a yoga class:
A room full of competitive posers
Engaged in thoughtful reflection
And abstract introspection.
Feeling no need to intercede
I sought entertainment elsewhere.
On the grounds of a gypsy encampment
I gambled my fortune away.
As a native-born Phoenician,
I was unaccustomed to sweet confections,
Yet I fell for a saber tooth dame.
A woman of aboriginal design.
She was a daydream intellectual,
Full of sacred hearts and holy trinities,
Well-versed in the language of words,
With all her explicits on full display.
I was playing with house money
And pockets full of hope shine.
I ended the midwatch a lucky sailor,
Cashed in my chips with a fish monger,
And decided to take in a show.
On the diamond stage in Audienceville,
I watched Orpheus in his underwear
As he parried insults unforgotten.
His expression spoke less than a smile.
It was more a menacing grimace,
Teeth like tempered glass
With a baked-enamel finish.
He humored all the dirty foot commoners,
Muttered a few heartfelt obscenities
And retired to the tomb of the unknown cynic.
Not one to waste a good exit,
I left my lover in the tall grass
With the chiggers and the ticks,
Our feelings for each other having vanished
Like chalk art in a summer rain.
I hopped a Norfolk Southern freight
And rode it through Black Rock tunnel.
Keeping my head low the entire passage.
My glimpse of the future seemed fertile
As a salt marsh in a tidal plain.
It was time to reconsider my options.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
WHATEVER COMES NEXT
To young lives full of sight promise,
I give glowing, gold dream spheres
And the belief that hope is honest
Because I am their sweet poetry years.
Youthful times of enchantment
bear longings rather than fears
in my stargaze encampment,
settled in my charmed poetry years.
I gift creativity, crafted unique,
to build teenage based frontiers.
I blend wonder with mystique
to bolster my awesome poetry years.
I have many charms to employ
upon young emotional pioneers
in hopes they retain all joy
found inside my selfless poetry years.
All who ever became an adult, full grown,
once handed me their trusting, young tears
to mix with faith’s infinite, soothing tone
while they camped here, in my poetry years.
Here, growth depth lifts a perspective tone
on all life hits that could lay a teenager prone.
I am the time aiding adolescence
and adulthood with coalescence.
We are wanderers
who happened at the intersection of reality and dreams
seeking others to share comfort with
from life's drudgery of encampments and caves
Now everyone lives in a box with a door
surrounded by a box held by posts
contained by concrete pavement shaped like boxes
giving direction to destinations
where we arrive like ants given tasks to complete
receiving payment for so we may own a box in which to sleep
after staring into a lighted box that drains our souls
so we can be sold objects that come in boxes
as we huddle in our masses complaining
about what our desire and anger created
Rather dissolve away at the top of a mountain
scribbling my name on the wall of a cave
near my encampment under a round sky
then to be buried by society in a cemetery filled with boxes
4/17/17
July 16 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Isaiah 46-50
Key Verse – Isaiah 47:4 As for our redeemer, the LORD of hosts is his name, the Holy One of Israel.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY HOLY REDEEMER
Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst sinful burden
Thank You for pulling me out against downfalls of pride so sudden
Away from troubles of transgressions’ warden
To bring me to Your salvation-garden.
Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst corrupt pollution
Thank You for taking me out against yokes of pleasures’ destruction
Away from wickedness’ perversion
To drive me to Your holiness-function.
Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst obstinate stubbornness
Thank You for releasing me out against treacherous deceitfulness
Away from affliction of falsity’s illness
To propel me to Your Word-truthfulness.
Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst infirmity’s fatality
Thank You for plucking me out against crises of no prosperity
Away from false teachings’ uncertainty
To lead me to Your direction-stability.
Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst vain judgment
Thank You for rescuing me out against despicable entanglement
Away from dark prisons’ encampment
To guide me to Your comfort-settlement.
Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst continual wastage
Thank You for preserving me out against secularism’s spoilage
Away from carnality’s hostage
To carry me to Your fellowship-advantage.
Lord God, You are my holy Redeemer midst iniquities’ reign
Thank You for freeing me out against selfishness’ strain
Away from rebelliousness of smiting sprain
To usher me to walk along obedience-terrain.
July 16, 2023
So, what is the best theme for
a poem? No guarded secret, all themes --
Freely to Roam! And what, the prescribed
destination or direction? Wherever the poet,
himself, deems worthy of fond or pertinent
affection –
Poetic Theme (extended metaphor)
So, what is the best theme for
a poem? No guarded secret, all themes –
Freely to Roam! And what the prescribed
destination or direction? Only those fond
and pertinent, giving affectionate-justification as
reason for procrastination – to linger in a moment's
subtle discovery – the courses followed only those
which the poet deems entrancingly divine – he seeks
heartfelt permanent encampment – or just an
amicable pause, in a neighboring field, fertile for
blooming enchantment; with his companion pen, to chronicle
canorous visuals, fervently inspired – or simply folksy,
lyrical rides; for the poet, alone, decides where his poetry lives
or temporarily abides –
(his muse, never far off – nearby, perhaps reflecting in the shade of a flowering
fruit tree: heaped in petals, not trying to hide – more enjoying the velvety feel of an
apple before the outer peel, though colorful, would be far too bitter for his present
aromatic meal) – muse and poet, composing through a single eye. Writing as one:
sharing new sights – sounds with scent – their mind dutifully toward poetry
bent – shades of detail, mellifluously transcending common scheme and rhyme –
incanting verse worthy of a brief performance, or immortal, blessed shrine –
It's all fair, such dulcet affair! All subjects! All seasons! – preferring spring, in which to self-lavish and spiritually entwine. Therefore, his paths are fanciful, never truthful as definitive
would define; often choosing glitter over harsh realty, yet can be a prophet and oracle if a troubling-time -- though never, a ruling class mime; – in this sense, he is a likable charlatan, a chimerical rebel...irreconcilable passion his soulful crime, therefore not ever exhibited, an atoning-word or act of sorrowful contrition – so loved by God, who gags at his counterpart, the lying politician.