Long Enemies Poems

Long Enemies Poems. Below are the most popular long Enemies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enemies poems by poem length and keyword.


Lamentation 1

What is life without joy and happiness? 

what is life without self honour and pride? 

Upon this mountain hell i lay every day

Battered and frustrated

A man of sorrow, forsaken

My spirit groans for mercy which failed to come

All is taken away from me including the smallest pin

 

 

of what is life without  a mother? 

painted black and  red

I mourn every seconds for that pretty damsel

swifter that the eagle, my heart pounded

Joy whispers sadness in my ears

and tears becomes my friend

In despair i feast and dance sorrowfully

they mock and throw me around like a forbidden coin

 

 

men are evil, my spirit moans

Raising my eyes to see my ears

i could tell of their wickedness 

my goats, cows and jewelries gone

Hear me evil souls, the nature has its judgment

Once in life, it cometh and it hard to escape

It hard to escape the judgment

 

look at father native compound

it been taken away by strangers

those who once dance with us

In good fortune and share our breads and barns together

NOw, they are against us in fury

Dare point us in the face and laugh

Hear me old friends, nature has its judgment

The nature has its judgment, beware

 

In my old age. bitterly i weeps all day

in affliction and harsh labour

my foes had become my masters

 the roads to my hut mourns

my compound groans and grieved

None to comfort me, all my friends had betrayed me

All the splendor has departed in the air

 

 

this is why i weep and, 

my body shivers

My eyes overflow with water

All who pass my way clapped and laughed at me

Enemies open their mouth wide against me

my grieves are many and my heart fainted

i am in torment within, disturbed and  distracted

I remembered my wandering and pains

In the dark forest alone

Covered my self with anger

 

 

perhaps my father had sinned

And i didn't know and, 

we now bore the pains

Getting brad is at my life risk

Because of the sword beneath

look and see our disgrace

Those who pursue us are at our heels

my siblings scattered abroad sorrowfully

No one to caution us and drag us back

Till end i know the earth has it judgments

i shall sing beautifully with joy in other phase of life

when the gate shall open.

 

ALL RIGHT RESERVED (C)  JOHN CHIZOBA VINCENT 2013
Form: Elegy


Judas Christ

Im not sure what i did to you
what i've been blaickmailed for
under the rug we swept the page we tore out
dance around what it told us to do
its your gold to figure out
this time, your pain, of the sin for being the creator
did it to myself
pointing out the abuse of my father
whipped and chained
crucified
no enemies
confusion of salvation
weapon for a messneger
for those who choose to hear it
the tower of babel fell
what if we were all wrong together
back to the basics of how i did this to myself

My father gone crazy
scared of mirrors
his own reflection
another gopher hole to remind him
of what you are
remove the blind fold
and see all my scars
never should have trusted you strangers
fictitious lies
graves of danger
holes to dig
in plots to fall into
wrap myself around the obvious to turn this loose

forgive and forget
i forget all the time
the leash on my neck
i dont forgive
choke at the tears i dont understand
fallen from my throne in the clouds
i didnt deserve
into your nightmare
to live a lie
called your perfect life
and who arwe you mad at
judas or christ for saving you from crucifiction
for the crime of the century
where the finger of your god gone awry
realising his mistake of his image altered
has come with an obvious omen to translate
and photoshop you into restrictions, consequences,
ways you werent supposed to bend

judas christ
the only face left to blame
the truth of the game your playing,
three moves ahead opf the game
me in check mate versus a world not playing fair
creating your god, to be the sin, to live your nightmare
way out of hand...

stuck in this corner
without a hand
opiates for mary jane
and nobody complains
fear farmers and desperation
eyes of the shamed
necisary contradictions
to pull you out of the deepend
swimming towards the sharks we keep at bay

what do you think he did to you?
those who walk around carrying a grudge?
lied? died? never ran away leaving you with the bag in a previous life?
or saved a future generation from a future of nightmares
only he could save us from
unravelling now
never to be forgotten

hail to your mercy
which i dont see exist
hail to your truth of who did it
hail to your emptiness
i am forgiven,
welcomed to the family
treasured as the brother
i am judas 
judas christ

so knock it off with this kane and abel blitz
Form:

Superman

STANZA ONE
He had the heart of a lion
And the strength of a bear
Ripping his enemies apart
He would crush and tear
Man of steel
With charm and grace
No one can dare confront him
Or look at his face
He is all over the world
And all over the place
He stands on the silver clouds
And drift through the winds
The colour of his skin matters less
As long as he is bless
By God
Samson! David or my Mohammed Ali
Roosevelt or Lincoln
Whatever name you may be
Oh! Superman
He has come to rescue us from harm
I love the way he looks
His carriage and charm
You remind of Horatio Nelson
The way you fight with one arm
And he looks above the horizon like a demigod
His composure was calm and undisturbed
Oh! Superman
Messenger of God
He prays hard to the Almighty and serves the Lord
Oh Superman!
The strongest man I have ever seen
A man  a thousand men can not win
He had the strength of Samson 
And the wisdom of Solomon
He is the king of us all
But he will not acknowledge
that title
Firm like Stalin
When it is time to take a decision
Never look back
Takes no permission
The true hero of the revolution
Was Leon Trosky
Washington of our time
Deliver us from the Great Evil
No matter where it may be
Oh Superman! Oh Superman! Oh Superman!
He lives in me
I am determine to sacrifice my life 
For the sake others
So that all men will be free
And stand for the rights of men
Where ever they may be
I will seek them in the lions den
And send evil doers to the past
With one blast
And that will be their last

STANZA TWO
He had the heart of a lion
And the strength of a bear
Ripping his enemies apart
He would crush and tear
Man of steel
With charm and grace
No one can dare confront him
Or look into at his face
Samson! David or my Mohammed Ali
Roosevelt or Lincoln
Whatever name you may be
Oh! Superman
When he was born an old witch 
Saw a prophecy
That a king is coming soon
Because the Moon was still shining even at afternoon
And the sun was still sleeping in his lazy crib
To live a promising life of adventure
Little did his parents know 
That he was a man as a child 
Before he would grow
And his glory would glow
Like the Alpha Centauri
Oh Superman!
From dusk to dawn
He lays awake
And would take 
Any challenge that comes his way
And would live his life like every other day
And he would live his life for the sake of others
Defender of justice and freedom
Thinks like an old sage
Because he has wisdom
Form: Epic

Chaotic Soul

My soul has gone through constant torment as many have come into my life for the mere enjoyment of giving me deceit. It was a long night when I saw the rain falling from the clouds outside. As it hit the ground, I heard a voice in the dark. It was the voice of a small child. I saw her crying in the rain, tears streaming down her pale face. She was shivering and soaking wet from the pouring rain. I could not let her, a small child, suffer through the night or even for another second. I opened the door and ran to bring her into the house. I was alone that night as my family was at an event I decided not to attend. The child had long black hair with highlights of red. Her eyes were red from her crying. Her clothes were soaking wet from the rain. Immediately, I went to grab a throw for her to be warm. After that, I made her some tea as I had no hot chocolate. Kneeling before her, I gave her the mug, and she took it with a weak smile while she drank. I asked her, “Are you ok, angel.” She looked up with a smile and nodded. As I turned away to get her some food, she asked me, “Are you ok?” I could only say that I was. She replied, “You don’t look well.” “A wise girl,” I thought. I told her that I was trying to adjust to being a single man with no children and the prospect of it being always. She asks why I feel this way. I tell her about how I have seen many women deny any relationship with me as they feared I would leave them once I achieved my dreams and how I had been rejected by others who saw no value in me, for they only wanted someone to fulfill their dreams. This little girl looks up at me with tears and states, “Allah has seen your struggle and has sent you a message through me. It is not to worry, as the little girl looking at you is an angel in disguise. I am your guardian angel in disguise as your youngest daughter in the future, her name is Hope. How can it be that you are here in the past then, and how can it be that my youngest would have the named the name that I would want for my first daughter? The angel replies, “Your first daughter is named Bella Maria, your second daughter is named Faith Gianna, your third daughter is named Mindi Rose, and your two sons are named Liam and Logan.
Your dreams will come true; you only have to wait a little longer. Your enemies will be at the table that has been prepared.
In an instant, the angel was gone.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Romantic Love Means Nothing

My soul hates this type of love. It's literally my natural enemy. However, I am happy, truly, because I stay true to myself. At the same time, my anger is an acidic stream of fire more powerful than a billion PSI and roars at speeds greater than sound. I choose selfishness as my path in life. Love is never stronger than selfishness nor is selfishness stronger than love. Emotions don't have power alone, we give them power. Like swords, the wiser and more skillful one is at wielding them, the more rewards there are to reap. Selfishness is stronger than love in any and every way if a hint of fairness and integrity are added to it. Humans are not able to love one another, it's delusion at best. I always ask romantic couples why do they love their partner, they almost never know why. I personally believe that if love was real in humans, it should be a conscious decision, not an instinct because lust is instinct. Lust is selfishness, while love is selflessness. So many people delude themselves into thinking that they're in love with someone, when in reality, they're attracted to something that person has, physical or non-physical material. Logic is also more powerful than romantic love, which shatters the maze that countless get lost in. Though life is no straight path, logic and selfishness make life great if used wisely. Selflessness isn't foolish in and of itself, most use it incorrectly. No matter what, selfishness and logic are some of my strongest powers. These two strengths will get me farther in life than most who have a romantic partner, especially in freedom. There is no freedom in love, going rogue is the only option. I'm proud to be a maverick as I improve my own power and avoid seeking help from humans, face to face, as much as possible. I am stronger than romantic love, because, once again, I stay true to myself. Staying true to myself is the sword I use to cut down delusion and defend myself against other lies. No human on Earth is my ally nor my enemy, I'm someone who lives for fun and not for a purpose like a soldier. Life isn't meaningful nor meaningless, we give it meaning, though I find most of life to be worthless. My life, devoid of romantic love, will keep pressing on the more I dive into freedom and the blissful depths of wise selfishness. As such, I will keep fighting onward against my enemies, romantic love and other frauds like it.


Carmena the American, Part I

Carmena was born in Bolivia
but left that place at seventeen,
after three years of waiting for the chance
to live out an American dream.

When her folks finally got their green cards
they moved up into old Santa Fe,
Carmena finished out her high school years
picking up on all American ways.

She’d known some English before she had come,
but her vocab expanded real quick,
immersed in the tongue every day
her accent softened and became less thick.

This helped a lot in her father’s new shop,
he bought a gas station in a franchise,
Carmena waited on all walks of life,
and the experience opened her eyes.

She’d chat with truckers and travelers
from all over the fifty great states,
lefty Californians, southern good-ol’ boys,
northern Yankees and Texans hauling steaks.

Mid-westerners who were so crazy nice,
New Yorkers who always sounded pissed off,
good-natured rednecks looking for more beer,
even some Yoopers with their funny talk.

Learned more of her new home on that roadside
then she did in any public school,
what would divide and what would unite,
but the one thing that really stuck her as cool

was that Americans, the better ones,
made everything subservient to choice.
Culture and skin, ethnicity and faith,
you had the freedom to ignore and avoid.

These facts struck her as how things should be,
had not every person a claim to these rights?
Here force of law was meant to make free
people to be the driving force in their lives.

And best of all, she heard all sides of things,
good for thought, both the grease and gourmet,
when seven years passed, and she took that oath,
she became American in so many ways.

But then something happened she didn’t expect,
it came about in an election year,
talking with her friend Sue about the vote
she was greeted with anger and fear.

Carmena was confused,"Why the harsh look?
I was just sharing the thoughts on my mind.
I believe in gun rights, and low taxes,
My father’s shop has been having a time—”

Sue interrupted,”Do you hate yourself?!
Don’t you know that you’re a Hispanic?
You’re betraying your own kind, voting this way,
colored people should vote Democratic!”

Carmena was stunned, struggled to reply,
“But I see nothing good in their beliefs.”
Sue just fumed,”You’re a damn race-traitor,
or brain-washed by fascist enemies!”

CONCLUDES IN PART II
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Full version - A True Christmas Miracle

True Christmas Miracle  True Story  Full version written by Wendy Horder. 2020


Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
war
Form: Rhyme

Dancing With the Spirit Part 2

The Spirit of the Lord is not mentioned often in the Holy Scriptures 
But if you read the book of Acts you will get the full gospel picture 
Of the power of the Holy Spirit and what It can do
Of the power that God has and how it can delight in you

When you dance with the Spirit your priorities will be rearranged 
When you dance with the Spirit your whole outlook on life will change 
Understand that God desires to be in relationship with us totally 
God wants to be a part of our triumphs and our tragedies 
God wants us to dance with HIm in true harmony 
Cheek to cheek hand in hand is how God wants it to be 

Now when the Spirit comes its more than an emotional two step move 
When the Spirit comes it comes in a full transformal groove 
To touch our souls, to open our hearts and to strengthen our minds
The Spirit wants to dance with us in a manner most kind
The Spirit wants to move us out of our brokenness and our mess
The Spirit wants to call us out on those things we need to address 
To not be so concerned about what society has to say
To not be overwhelmed by life's circumstances as we journey on our way 
Now dancing with life, full of joy and spiritually purified 
Cleansed of those things that God sees as being  horrified 
Baptized by water and forged by the fire of spiritual transformation 
A new creation in Christ now housed on a new foundation 

Dancing with the Spirit jitterbugging with the Lord Christ 
Doing the spiritual salsa, the holy hustle and the tango for the rest of my life 
No longer will I define myself by my worst experience thus far
I'm now dancing with the Spirit no longer bitter nor faint of heart
Stepping out of the boat with courage and holiness abound
A new adjective before my name as the spirit in me has been found
No longer crackhead Sue but now Life Coach Susan
No longer drunken Joe but now Detective Joseph the man

Now dancing with the Spirit delivered from the adversary 
Full of godly power to fight against my enemies 
I'm dancing the merengue, the cha cha and the samba with the Holy Spirit 
I'm dancing the swing, the bolero and the mambo as I'm now with it
Dancing with the Spirit I'm doing the jive
Dancing with the Spirit and I'm feeling so alive 
Doing the gospel waltz, the holy hip-hop and the heavenly electric slide 
I'm dancing with the Holy Spirit cheek to cheek side by side
Form: Didactic

The Curse

How long will this suffrage last?
Painting the dark picture of a darkened past.
My people are supposed to be blessed,
But we are cursed in this foreign land.
My people are supposed to be royalty,
Yet we are slaves.
The seed is supposed to grow higher and higher,
But yet it withers away like a dry flower.
Just accept it, that the curse is with us,
How long will this suffrage last?

If only God’s commandments were kept,
There would be no ignorance or plague,
No death or lost identities,
No religion or slaves.
There wouldn’t be another Egypt
that would take us far away from the motherland.

How long can we survive the curse?
Will it be forever and ever?
Will our beautiful queens continue to receive pain
While baby daddies are the ones to blame?
How about the separation of our families
causing broken homes?
Is it the curse of our ancestor’s blame?

How long will we rely on this oppressive nation?
The king over us that has no regard of our struggle.
Their nation became unstoppable, 
They rose higher and higher.
But my people plundered lower and lower
since the days of old, from slavery to civil rights,
And all them stories untold.
We are the tail but not the head,
We fought for our rights but we still are not equals.
How long will this curse last?
When will the shouts cry, “Free at last!”


This is the curse,
A curse where God has shamed us,
From generation to generation,
Leaving our enemies blameless,
While they steal everything we own
And make it their possession.
Our people are the creators,
Yet it is unknown.

Almost four hundred years
the plagues has risen like a swarm of locusts
Devouring the blessing because of our scattered nation.
We were like the stars in the sky shining,
Until our numbers dwindled
from the slaughter of the beast’s wrath.

If only the ancestors stayed obedient and humble,
Maybe our lives would be a blessing.
We would be living with silver and gold,
But instead we were uprooted
from the land that was promised.


My brothers and sisters wake up!
We are living in a curse.
From poverty to persecution,
Watching death catch more bodies.

Repent and renew your mind and spirit,
Follow His commandments until you reach further,
Back to the motherland that is soon to be promised.
Get out of your ways and you will be covered.
If not, you will continue living the curse.
© K.T. Brown  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Still Knocking On Heaven Door

Still knocking on the heaven door
I saw a soldier man crying 
At an after victory 
Oh man why you cry
Asked I with a confusion 
He said 
Tell God I asked why it 
Must be me 
Ask God why it has to be 
Like this 
For right now am
Still knocking at the heaven 
Door

Still knocking on the heavens door
Once I saw a brave man cry 
That a lot it tells 
A word is enough for the wise 
So this words so deep he said 
Tells us a lot 
Once he was young 
With an innocent mind like 
An empty glass
Time goes so he got educated
With an identification 
Of some enemies 
The empty mind now corrupt
So with time he became brave with 
This knowledge to war 
Time goes till he was a soldier man
Ready to defend his country 
Off to kill the enemy he goes
Like a scam of war 
He saw a deferent face from 
The enemy he knows 
As he realise the war was false
The real enemy was his gangs
Back home 
Who sent him off to war 
So betrayed he felt as already 
So many innocent he already 
Sent to lay in peace 
On the ground he bleeds 
So brave now he cry 
As first he asked why it must
To be me 
Ask God why it must to be me 
For right now am
Still knocking on the heaven door 

Still knocking on the heaven door
Once I saw the brave grief
Wonder why so I ask
Soldier man why you cry after 
A war victory 
You will never understand
First he said 
The war is not over 
Not until I feel peace inside me 
With this hands I slain
So I worth not to live 
War are not what you perceive 
Is better love than war 
With the gun I murdered 
So I worth not a love 
In me the war is not over till 
I know why it has to be this way 
For right now am 
Still knocking at the heaven door
I know God lies behind this close door

Still knocking on the heaven door
Have you ever seen the brave cry 
Is like to see an eagle without wings
Life is like a zero 
As wars is to vanity 
So on this Quest 
Only on this note 
You see the brave cry as the 
Soldier man now 
Still knocking on the heaven door

Still knocking on heaven door
Hope he found his peace
Hope he finally meet God
Behind the close door
For so wars will never be over
Until we feel love and peace 
Inside of us!
That only can come 
Only when the close door 
Of our ignorance is open
To love (God)
Until then all we can now do 
Is only but 
Still knocking on the heaven door
Form: Epic

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