Long Exhumed Poems
Long Exhumed Poems. Below are the most popular long Exhumed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exhumed poems by poem length and keyword.
1799 c.e.
Invading the privacy of Egypt’s estate,
Napolean and troops on their tippy toes,
Sweetly snatching the Rosetta Stone.
Turning it over cartouche style,
Lusting to surround Josephine, in battle.
Their royal names forevermore, amore…
Jean-Francois Champollion joined the duo in bed.
His hands glided, over three parallel scripts –
Hyroglyphic, demotic, and Greek; translation exotic
1978 c.e.
Princess Leia, a 3-D hero hologram
Parlayed with charming communication
She held a saint and a rogue in her sultry hands
Present Day in the bedroom of his royal highness
Egyptian tomb exhumed, enlightened, laser projected -
No protection from the spirit of matrimonial melee.
Dutifully terrified, damsel in distress; holographic mistake.
After thousands of years
due to global ice melt in the permafrost
my carcass has been unearthed.
Not surprisingly I was hairy and
proto-Slavic.
Some idiot named me ‘Derick Specimen 974.2’,
My spirit watched as they soaked me in warm water
then froze me up again.
How many times must my remains
be poked about like this?
For centuries I have been interned,
exhumed, washed away
and bulldozed into dust,
leaving my genetic footprints all over
their dumb brains
and now some fool
looks upon my preserved remains
and names me ‘Derick’!’
Just wait until I dig one of you up
ten thousand years from now.
I won’t care how bald and scrawny looking you are,
I’ll name you: Aphrodite
even through your flaccid popsicle of a scrotum
is clear for all to see.
Foraging through time's annals
Peering through the faded panels
Catching a glint through corroded channels
Seeking the sallowing bridges to re-enamel
Shuffling along desert lanes beaten down by Assyrian
chariot trains
Walking subsumed Royal Persian road, linking cultural
chains
Striding through exhumed Alexandrian cities'
ethnocentric strains
Strolling pebbled Roman boulevards accentuated by
aqueduct drains
Riding the Mongolian steppes listening to the murderous
refrains
Traipsing through gold-crowned Ottoman mosques
sprouting Christian veins
Lumbering penitently along Via Dolorosa grasping
sacrificial blood stains
We dwell in this body-mind,
which then grips us in its bind,
that bemused by senses five,
in truth we’re scarcely alive.
We wish to heavenward climb
but are hemmed in by space-time,
hypnotised by flow of thought,
trapped in desires and fear fraught.
The joy soul seeks is denied,
so it’s clear we’ve been to lied,
knowing not yet who we are,
from God’s light, drifting afar.
Our head and heart stand apart,
so this is where we then start,
both these instruments linking,
in staid stillness unblinking.
When thoughts recede, ego dies
and in the void, our heart sighs,
for therein we vaporise,
making way for soul’s sunrise.
Lonesome is the path of soul,
as it walks through this black hole,
having left behind life’s shore,
knowing not what lies in store.
For the brave hearts who persist,
poised without a to-do list,
choosing truth, renouncing greed,
lust exhumed, love takes the lead.
Breath by breath, making heart pure,
taunts of fate as we endure,
with God above watching this,
He fills us with boundless bliss.
With bliss rapture now the norm,
we thus begin to transform,
in time becoming the flame,
divine light that has no name.
By benedictions of grace,
we see God too, face to face,
living white light shining bright,
commingled with bliss delight.
The seeker of a rapid rise
By such desire, self-blocks surprise
Thoughts separating soul from source
As each impulse, mind does apprise
Love cannot be secured by force
Certainly not by doership coarse
For it is a magnetic pull
Drawn to pure hearts, cleansed by remorse
Weary souls want to feel blissful
But have lost innocence playful
If only we shed off ego
Our hearts will be instantly full
Days of childhood, not long ago
Brows had on them then, no furrow
Body and soul acted as one
Joyful in the boat, God does row
God awaits return of His son
He welcomes each and everyone
Grace is bestowed, if we receive
For which ego must come undone
Web of desire that we did weave
Hypnosis, designed to deceive
All that’s needed, is to be still
With no cards hidden up our sleeve
Allowing God to do His will
Fears are exhumed, voids within fill
Once we surrender at His feet
No need remains to toil and till
Dancing to the divine love beat
Heart is suffused with bliss replete
We’re transmuted as living light
Divine entwined soul feels complete
04-May-2022
Come to me in April
when the chill of March winds have died
and the flowers that struggle to bloom
now find sun rays that warm and loom;
come to me in April
when all the winter cold slips reluctantly away
and the garden breathes anew swept by spring brooms
with daffodils and tulips from the earth exhumed;
come to me in April
when all my memories float on by
escaping the tears never meant to cry
and what was can never be undone;
come to me in April
when the tide of Easter resurrection lives again
God's promise to the souls of men
that life goes on beyond the here and now;
come to me in April
when all our dreams are reawakened
and the bonds of love are never shaken
freely given, ready for the taking.
~Night In Vein~
Cool and lucid, soul quenching night air,
working it’s magic, but rather too well.
Now, sat in a pub restroom writing,
mist haunted road visions, still swirling.
Then oh...how the blue haze danced in neon light,
a spectral rainbow exhaled, exhumed from deep within.
Behind it, left to sink, the wild dream,
the revelry under Moonlight’s smile.
Wandering without destination, a child in the night,
gone wild within night, feral or simply misunderstood.
Calling to a heaven’s gaze, invoking empyrean flames,
we scream aloud our secret name, to the waiting cobalt sky.
Morning gave us words and Paint, in clear mind no tint to taint,
refined by brush or pen; the mystery and sanctity of creation.
©David Nickle Read 2015
All Rights Reserved By The Author
Just because they shout out
tell you everything you hear is a lie and doubt
it doesn't make it true.
The Hannity's, Dobbs, Coumos. Lemons of the news,
sly as a fox, can not repair with staring loud and fumed
repeat what they hear and believe it to be exhumed
but that's not you, filtering out the rhetoric that brews.
Open your eyes, your ears
dispel your anger, qualms, and fears
see, listen, decipher the truth
and vote for our aged and our youth.
Let them shout, defend the fake news and lies
try to deflect and massage the sound wave cries
the future is in our hands, what will YOU do?
War, I Never Thought It Would Be Like This !!!
I never thought to see man’s bones glistening white.
Nor see disembodied limbs flying left and right.
I never thought to see mud the colour of red
Nor see young men blown to bits or lain dead.
The rain isn't water it's blood mixed with tears
Trenches full of bloated corpses, lice, fleas and fears
No time to bury all, but those that receive an earth overcoat
Are disturbed, exhumed by bombs, blown in stagnant trenches to float.
Blasted from their resting places, scattered far and wide
Dodging not only bombs and shells, but limbs landing by our sides.
Men caught and ripped to shreds with razor wire and tracer shells.
Left to die hanging there, moaning, screaming, no funerals no church bells.
I never thought to see these things, just victory, honour and glory
Not see death destruction waste and sites disgusting and gory.
I only wanted to fight for my King, family and country
I never thought it would be a massacre that mortal eyes should not see.
© 27/07/2012 Lids aka ~GG~
They signed up so young and full of their patriotic duty, yet this is how is ended for most of them.
BURIED PAST EXHUMED
Today is a gift and always called present
Yesterday has passed and referred to as past
Nobody knows tomorrow and it’s always anonymous
My past was dead and long buried in the casket
All memories and remains six feet beneath the soil
I came in the present and lived in the present
I never knew the past, so I lived ignorant of its history
Not that I didn’t care to ask but what will I ask?
Something is wrong in the present that dates back to the past
This wrongful thing is connected to the future.
Today is the present and the present is a bad gift
The problems got too enormous; I capsized in it amidst storms
The wreck was too bad a worst; I got lost in it
Deep down the ocean of confusion; I lay amidst sharks
To the everyday of everyday; I strived to always survive to strive
There is always hope, and I hoped for a better tomorrow
While still hoping deep in the sea; sharks made my heart their abode
Continually attacking me and slowly draining my life away
To every solution I sought; no answer and no help
To the misery of the present; the worst awaits in future.
Death got our life on the edge
Every tight cliff too slippery to hold
Even in death; not all memories are dead
So far there is life, the truth always surfaces
At that unexpected moment, the truth got disvirgned
My dead past was exhumed with all the pains and sorrow
So wretched was the remains it drew blood amidst painful tears
At that moment, the symbols of the present had its meaning
It pains I knew now but it’s good to know how to tackle the present
Exhumed is exhumed; bury the remains again; the memories lives on...........
…Lordvip…