Long Envoys Poems
Long Envoys Poems. Below are the most popular long Envoys by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Envoys poems by poem length and keyword.
Irony, often, enacts comically fatal roles,
Brings dignitaries down from their highest pedestal poles;
Sometimes, in a symbolically pragmatic costume,
Of the protagonist, destruction its role does assume;
Julia Gillard, Australian feminist Prime Minister,
Kitten heels! Fell over public! Earned laughter sinister!
Unprejudiced slip! Humiliated tentatively!
Escorts and envoys, though, waited on her attentively!
Her fall followed her fiery address on male chauvinism,
Fall on grass and fall-from-grace were linked to her feminism;
Did Julia Gillard abet the Western Australian State,
From the crown of the United Kingdom to terminate?
The alleged treason, with her falls, harmed her reputation,
As her opponents wished, these led to her resignation;
Conservatism of foes, I'd conclude, is cause of her fall,
To cry in wilderness, yet, she has felt, has been her call...!
20 April 2022
In suppression of treason what motive or reason Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
The Conference at Mantua
Ah, what a scene of tranquil learnedness!
The scholars nurse their tomes like babes in arms:
white locks: heads cocked to savor the address
of Pius, in his charming Latin: balm
floats in through high-arched, airy colonnades.
The lake is laced with skittish little skiffs:
those rolling lawns of Mantua could be made
to sport a kick-ass golf course. Oh, those cliffs!
But life just ain't that peachy. Belching blame,
the Cardinals did squat, but bleat and *****.
No representatives invited, came.
And Mantua was a cramped, unhealthy pitch.
Scarampo wasn't much inclined to linger.
With imprecations colouring the air,
he gave the Pope the metaphoric finger,
and rode away, at haste -- to God knows where.
The Lake was nothing but a sluggish stream.
It bred mosquitoes in malevolent clouds.
The croaking frogs made sleep a pious dream.
The locals were more oafish than in Stroud.
Bessarion stayed true, and Torquemada.
A basis, then, for troops to rally on:
but Europe's bookends? "Altar y espada"
is not much use among Italians!
At last, some envoys came -- but far from helping,
they asked for help! From Burgundy came Cleves,
but not disposed for listening, more for yelping
about the local petulance and peeves.
And when they paint the frescoes of your life,
they'll airbrush out the unappealing grunge.
They'll strip away the struggle and the strife.
And you'll bequeathe what's pretty (dung expunged).
There was once a king who decided that for him - beauty was silence.
He issued a decree that all sound was banished henceforth and that his land would forever more be as silent as snow. To enforce this impossible law he sent countless envoys to every corner of the land. Every creature was informed. No birds can sing. No dogs must bark. No man, woman or child could speak their needs and must now make them known by signs. Even the very thunder was ordered to be mute.
The penalty of course was death. Few were able to obey.
Flocks of birds were shot from the heavens. Dogs were slain before their master’s eyes. All the trees were stripped of leaves lest the wind should sigh through them. Brooks were frozen so water could not splash or gurgle down the stream beds.
It was like a permanent winter with bare trees and frozen ground.
Children at play were wiped out without mercy. Cows being herded were bombed for lowing. This unmerciful killing went on for many years.
The merest sound so angered the King that he ordered atrocious punishments for offenders that he did not kill.
The talents of artist were in great demand as they painted cards for all occasions for people to flash. in lieu of speaking. The effect on the population was to cause the formation of many covert societies where secret meetings, when betrayed, were raided and countless murders committed by the ‘silence’ enforcers.
The King was greatly feared by everyone and dubbed “Snowman - the Silencer”
Generations of good people were wiped out. Countless noisy species were hunted to extinction. Music was never heard or played.
Silent clocks were invented. Sound-proof rooms were built. Some desperate parents, to protect their children, opted to have their babies larynx-es removed at birth.
The King was surrounded by silent apathetic, joyless subjects.
The King’s obsession had effectively destroyed all the people, the life and the environment around him.
How much easier it would have been, if he, in wanting silence had only thought to destroy his own eardrums.
"No, they are assassins from Akrah!"
"They cannot be my Lord, we have orders to take them in!
"They are assassins, I say. You shall not take them in!"
"Whatever, my orders are to take them in."
"And if I stand before you!"
"I shall carry out my orders Lord!"
"My young friend, I shall not fight you."
"I am glad my Lord."
"My blood boils when I see these assassins."
"I was told they were envoys, Lord."
"May I ask you Turgon, who did give these wonderful orders?"
"The orders came from the golden king himself."
Will you do something for me, my young friend?"
"You only have to ask and you know it shall be, my Dark man."
I wish you to delegate a duty to your strongest men."
"What would this duty be, my Dark man?"
"I want these monstrosities watched, wherever they may be."
"Most assuredly my Dark Man."
"Have someone ready to ring the alarm bell at any time Turgon."
"Francis is already in position my Lord."
"I shall see you in the palace Turgon."
"You shall indeed, well met, my Dark Man."
"Well met Turgon."
The Dark man. on Turvehrhr,
he goes over to Turgon and the king's guard,
the ceremonial guard trot off towards Alahsar,
the envoys in tow.
Now, it was a pleasant evening for the festivities,
A cool breeze did blow across Badicha,
Such a beautiful night for a slow ride,
through the great golden gates,
Slowly, the knights started towards the golden gates,
at a trot.
So it was,
the celebrations would have such strange guests,
Well, the song of Alahsar,
it must now come to an end,
Your Bard must now have a little mead,
after this, the song shall begin again,
May the ancient songs of Alahsar,
ever be sung in their glory.
Chapter..........1..........Part..........2..........3.
Now, we may return to Alahsar,
deep within the heart of our thought,
May my song bring Alahsar.
the golden city,
to the fore of your mind,
once more,
the vision of wonder shall become clear,
may the words paint the most striking pictures,
Now, let us charge our horns,
my Lords and Ladies,
the song, I shall now, in humility,
lay before you once more,
the song of ages,
long since past,
I shall now sing,
Come with me to the city of Alahsar.
To Be Continued..........
I’ve always felt like ‘that boy’,
The scared little kid,
Nervous white fingers,
Clutched on his toys.
All the other kids play together,
I figured they’d invite me,
Every kid deserves as much as joy.
And every time I feel like,
‘Maybe I’ve grown’,
Life likes to remind me of humility and death,
God’s envoys.
My Mum’s love,
The prize treasured most by ‘that boy’.
Could’ve lost my mum,
The gun takes,
Leave me no choice.
Somebody else can choose,
To take my life,
And destroy.
I’m once again reminded,
On my passing days,
My mum might not hear my parting voice.
In the grove of life, where the fields of time were greening with beginnings,
I spotted you, the naked shadow, a birth from the depth of the holy nothingness.
You crossed its silent threshold, coming with empty hands at dawn,
Unveiling yourself of the shroud of non-being, watched over by stars and the moon.
You embraced the universe, armed with only a pure soul,
In the pilgrimage toward the final silence, you will step again disarmed.
And I ask you, sister or brother in fate, whence come these cold chains?
Why plant nettles and thorns in the garden that was gifted to us pure and untainted?
In the ephemeral dance of being, all gold and silver dissolve into the illusion of time,
All palaces and thrones, sandcastles beneath the waves of vast oblivion.
The only currency that weaves across Styx embraces a finer essence,
A shared love, compassion speaking through deeds, a mirror still awaiting a response.
Ah, pride and vanity, dragons that steal the light from your eyes,
They plunge you into the shadow of a self beached on shores of disillusionment.
But the beauty of life woven in humility and kindness,
Rises like a phoenix from the ashes of falsehood, soaring toward true glory.
We will leave behind only echoes of that breath-song,
With a melody sung in acts of love, in the souls of those who remain to hum along.
This will be the mark, vibrating into eternity, a divine resonance,
The legacy that will cross the threshold, between earth and skies, to be followed with reverence.
And in the margins of time, when departure sends its envoys,
You will part, justly, with empty hands and a heart full of blessings.
The naiads of your eyes sealing the unseen tale left behind,
You remain the symphony of forgiveness, the harmony of celestial love, eternal through giving.
Soul Consciousness
Is it the consciousness of the soul we seek?
Or the “conscious” mind in search of its “soul”.
For the soul resides in the eternal unconscious,
is ever present in the eternal – present – moment’s
subtle “animation” of the physical,
stimulation of the mental.
My soul…..the essence of my being
has existed for all of time,
is but a particle of the whole
an aspect of the “deity”,
a facet of creations desire for fulfillment
seeking union with its purpose.
My soul is consciously aware
of creations incompletion,
of the need for men and women
to acknowledge themselves
as the envoys of creation,
unite in bringing the state
of heaven – on earth.
For the extrapolation of the words
“and they were in one place with one accord”
would bring into effect a
vibratory validation of the belief
that “we souls” have a responsibility
to sound a conscious tone
in word, in action, in living
not bound by the strictures of a credo
but of a soul consciousness
vibrantly animating our being.
John G. Lawless
5/22/2016
I’m wandering on the earth
Paths after paths
No end of the paths there are
Stoppage out of the dictionary of earthly paths
Day enters into the night, night discovers day
Kinematograph feels tired for continuity of time
My wandering with the white cloud
Under the sun of the day and the moon of night,
My wandering with flying heron,
My wandering with nightly darks,
Lonely I’m wandering
Through the shapeless winds, times
Sunlight, moonlit gives birth some thoughts into me
Rainy drops, sober breeze gives birth some thoughts into me
I’m wandering alone through the crowded
Paths after paths the swarming thoughts guide me
Oh I find the earth is the biggest bazaar of beliefs
Many biggest companies there are
The sales envoys are erratic to sell daily their beliefs
The marketing diplomats convey only their beliefs are God said
I wander and find the buyers are blind believers
The blind believers buy whatever they find wherever,
The blind believers carry out their bags of beliefs till the end breath,
The blind believers unite them as their own beliefs,
The blind believers worship the sales envoys and marketing diplomats of own beliefs as God sent,
The blind believers sacrifice themselves for own beliefs,
The blind believers create crusade field of hatred forgetting humanity,
On the other hand
the businessman of the beliefs are happy seeing the bloodshed from the safe palace of religions
Oh! The blind believers buyers don’t know what did they buy
Where human for human, human for sympathy, love, humanity…
There The blind believers buyers buy as beliefs the hate, the cruelty…
-September 29, 2019 Chattogram
Once envoys carried messages, betwixt those Royal thrones of Kings.
Scrolls of vellum parchments, all bearing wax insignia, impressed with signet rings.
These symbols of authenticity, made safe passage, through far flung foreign fields.
Where chivalry of gallant knights gave sanctuary, armed with swords and shields.
While Kings and Queens spoke of those deeds, by proclamation, made them law.
Preventing bloodshed needlessly, upon battlefields of war.
Once, candle flames on red wax, and signet rings, were used in days gone by.
Now those documents of state are stamped, by die and counter die.
Where independance from the past, the President holds sway.
This National Symbol of the United States, hangs proudly on display.
Let’s pester Uncle Fester
After dafter Luxon
Pushed the button
Welcomed every glutton
To the isles of mutton
Theme of the meme
Team New Zealand
It does seem
No longer a
Stronger eclectic sceptic
Spanked by the rank
Septic tank stream
Peptic Pyramid scheme
Grand slam.. glam sham scam
Desperate Dan or Tangerine tan plan
God damn..American dream
Our rancour on social media
Danker seedier leaders crimes
Hanker for every greedier
Rhymes with banker
Sleazier golden geezer visas
Accept any offers to
Fill their many coffers
Brokery.. jiggery pokery
Immunity without impunity
To the unity of community
Profanity of their vanity
Insanity of their depravity
Clarity...disparity not charity
Tramples ample wokery
Our amazing landscape
Instead becomes their escape
Coined..after all they’ve purloined
Jolly jape…no red tape
Not being rash
But it is a rash
Debunk the gunk & funk
Forsaking the avarice
Taking the pis*
Bliss abyss monk
Crass..brash..flash git
S***k a chunk of cash
From their balderdash stash
Making..a complete hash of it
Fake elite on the take
As they see fit
Billionaire boys ploys annoys
Replete yet still cheat
Have your cake and eat it
Our government just envoys
For a small fee..sweet
Deploys the swanky..w**ky
Yankee all about me
Time to flee plea
They lit the fire
Liar & denier
Dug the quagmire
Piety for impropriety
Moolah Messiah ruler
High flyer pariah
Crueler society
Who when the s**t
Does hit the fan
No fibs..his nibs gets
First dibs on cribs
Outlier masterplan zen..know
Then where to go
Can always hunker down
In a spick & span den
Their Queenstown bunker
Amen