Long Fumes Poems
Long Fumes Poems. Below are the most popular long Fumes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fumes poems by poem length and keyword.
"Bring Me Wine,Myrrh and My Sweetheart Daughter Anabella,
My Little Anabella Loves To Listen To The Voice Of Salome,Her Lyre and Her
Happy Serenade..
Tell My Scribes To Be Fast About Compiling The Exploits Of Their King In His
Last Battle Campaign..What Is a King Without An Updated Chronicle..
Send In My Little Prince For His Voice As He Reads Through His Texts Of
Poetry..Lures The King His Father To a Closer Salient Walk With The gods..
Tell The War Generals To Give Me A detailed Brief of Our Next Campaign.."
At Morn..
"Send In The Finest Of Thy Young Warriors..So I can Test My Stealth In The Very
Face Of Battle and Danger...
What Have Young Men Turned Themselves into..So Lazy,Wanton and Unmanly..
Off My Sight Before I Seek Thy Skulls This Very Instant..
(In Privacy With The Head Warrior)..Oh! Sarskaas Your Young Boys Are one of the
Best in The Region My Training Sessions Are Truelly Refreshing..Tell this not to
them Lest you build the Fruits of Pride and Treachery in their Young Minds..
Do Usher in My Seductive Belles to Show Off Their Waists in Acts of
Poetry,Dance and Linguistic Body Embellishments..."
At Noon..
"You The Dreaded Most Notorious KING Of the Valley..A Demi god,Invincible and
Indestructible..As I Speak Kiss The Sole Of My Feet and eat this dish of Camel
Dung mixed with fine desert sand..
Ax-Man when he finishes his dessert Bring me his Head on My 'Royal Golden
Skull-Dish'..
Usher in the Wise Men of the South..For I want to converse with them in this
same spirit of Saliency..
Stuff the roast Calf portions with a lot of herbs and Spices..You well know its the
Obsession of the Men from The south.."
At Sundown..
"Usher in the different contingents of Musicians to Entertain my Salient Guests...
Wrap My 'Lotus Fumes' Quickly so I can Smoke this Life's Troubles Aways..And
See Through the One Eye of the gods in Solemnity and Blissful Thinkings,
Head Eunuch Do Send A Servant to The Harem..He Should Tell My Queens to
get A-Ready For Their Lord is in Good Shape for Royal Rumbles and More..
Oh! My Faithful Knights your War plans were excellent..Go Now Enjoy and Excite
your souls as much..Retain your honour and have the War at the Back Of your
Minds..
Depart In Peace..Many A-Waists in The Harem are Restless..
I go in to Satisfy My Very Own.."
Welcome Again To The World Of That Certain King..
(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)
The Candyman Can’t
Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not. We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.
One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole. Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner. Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.
The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm? Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars? How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm? The problem goes away!
This ruse is known as “equity”. It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason. What to do? Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers. Such affairs
drag on for years. The lawyers? They get theirs!)
Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now. It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices. Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street? He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”
But Bridgman lost. One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough. Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey. The latter
has lots of lowly types. It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.
PROLOGUE
Biographies are for men who have a need to cry
To spell out what we remember is to subtract all
We forget, for knowing then nothing knew, a lie
Conjured by history, there's no a priori here at all
If you will not abuse my love
I will dive for you deeper forgotten things, bring
Up from bottom hate to prove
To be a better god we gladly, boldly took the sting
And could not have merely comprehended joy until
Our serpent made the safe-God to repent of his will
Here is my life strands of sands upon your windy palm
I'm the syllables of every gospel, beginning at the Psalm
Proverbs skinned like rice from the shaft, seeking balm.
History immaculate pristine in no myth ever shall sleep
Introspection vigils struggle between words and memory
Philosophy is a dream, not I, who numbers days urgently,
The sleeping dog will sleep, but my promise let me keep.
i
IDENTITY
I do not even know how it began, night or day
Rain or shine - nor what season they had interplay
I only know that nine must have been too long since
I overstayed my time and made her grimaced, grunt
And groaned to push me out. So of course, I wince
Privy to so much uncertainty. I have a given month
A date, but what is time alone for anyone's beginning
I want to remember the pool I paddled in the flesh
The long rope that called my navel a primal mouth
The red tide of mud from her veins which so much clout
I was hooked on it, around the perimeter where I thresh
So much more can come from a real truth of beginning.
I mean, how comes we have no control over our beginning
And you expect me in the middle to give you meaning
I will not buy the lie, I choose allegiance but know not how
The end shall fufill its promises of me. The air burns still
Like an acrid vapor on the lungs, and not yet I shall spill
The anger from the fumes of air, nor low ever can I bow
Before the hand that slapped my butt and told me scream.
You say indecent, I say unjust, for he proved no love so
Soon nor knew of me any wrong. The conspirators team
Around a common cause: a man must cry so they know
He has life; my kicking legs were not enough. The water
Suddenly left me swaddled in air and just a little laughter.
I do not take kindly to being whipped, nor did I protest then
About my eviction, and the sudden weight of many things.
Further qualities of the King* the THIRUK-KURAL lauds: IRAMAADTCHI - Canto 39, K381 and K382
[*modern-day "kings": presidents, prime and chief ministers, governors, dictators and the like; K381 & K382 have already been posted.]
K383: thuungkaamai kalvi thunivudaimai immuuntrum
niingkaa nilanaal pavarkku
A sleepless promptitude, knowledge, decision strong:
These three for aye [sic] to rulers of the land belong. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
These three things, viz., vigilance, learning, and bravery, should never be wanting in the ruler of the country. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Not being lulled to sleep, always acquiring knowledge and fearlessly assuming the lead - these three qualities crown the king of a country. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
K384: aranilukkaathu allavai* niikki
maran*ilukkaa maanam* udaiyathu arasu
[* "allavai" = sins, evils, unreal things; "maran" = bravery; "maanam" = honour]
Kingship, in virtue failing not, all vice restrains,
In courage failing not, it honour's grace maintains. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
He is a king who, with manly modesty, swerves not from virtue, and refrains from vice. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Always virtuous, eschewing evil, heroic in deed and honour-bound - of such mettle the sovereign should be.* (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[* Which leader in our world embodies the dictates (and constraints) in this maxim? One often goes to war for seemingly righteous causes, sacrificing foot-soldier lives in order to fill some "cartel's" private coffers; or one might endeavour to boost the growth rate by half a dozen % points only to draw the polar ice-caps down on our children's heads and throats; one might build the finest sky-scrapers of the future megalopolises on the slave-wages of indentured immigrant labour only to deprive them of human rights in the name of the Supreme Creator; one might nonchalantly let city-centres choke in the fumes of carbon monoxide and let human excreta pile up on the roadsides in the name of cultural and spiritual enhancement through the pomp of rallies and manifestations on a grand scale and for what? - to keep the soul purified? - while the "kings" of spiritual development rely still on the divine right to rule the poor bugger down below, conditioned by words from the cradle! ] T. Wignesan, June 29, 2017
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Pride goeth before a fall,
It shall be said, long after.
How well the phrase fits this Argive king,
Come far across the wine-dark seas
In his gleaming ships of war
To rape the wealth of other men's homes
All for the sake of a woman;
So it was said.
Here in the smoke of the ruins,
Behind walls breached at the last by treachery,
- 10 years' bloodshed not enough to have battered them down -
Troy's temples lay sacked and belching fumes for incense,
Then here he comes, blazing in bronze, puffed with pride,
To claim you, as his rightful prize alone!
You,
Whom even the gods respect.
Mad you are, blissfully so.
Yours eyes, flashing in your mantic states
See farther and more truly than those
Of any other mortal.
You know the things to be all too well,
For this you were cursed with a great gift of prophecy
Forever doomed to fall upon deaf ears.
But today the curse becomes the gift it should have been,
If to see a proud victor's doom
Riding hard upon his heels, he all unknowing
Be any comfort to the defeated.
He takes you to his death and your own besides,
Mistaking the darkness of your smile
For the resignation of the lost.
He bears home with you the fall of all his house,
Many a proud one shall join you both
In Hades' cold halls ere long has passed.
So bid your mother not despair
To see you taken and treated so lowly;
Bid her rejoice in your ravings,
Tell her raise the torch and call on Hymen
To bless and seal this doom
Which has been set to avenge your righteous dead
Who fell beneath these now so hollow walls.
Exhort her not to weep for her mad daughter,
Who, in being made concubine to this beast
Weds high indeed in final truth,
As through this match she goes to a god,
And he the one most truly feared.
The torchlight flashing
Like starlight in your rolling eyes!
Your beauty as you whirled there,
Absorbed in frenzied grief
Became a sight before which divinity trembled!
Your broken people smiled in pity for you,
Eyes full and dimmed with tears.
Yet it is enough, perhaps, for you alone to know
As you are carried off across the lashing seas
To the enemy land,
The flames of your dead city
Lighting the night's horizon,
Holding in your heart the bittersweet truth none would believe,
You commune with the Eternal,
Bearing gall and misery
To an arrogant fool.
In my fervent heart,
You knew I treasured you
But you didn’t return those tender feelings
Just see the fumes arise from the consuming fire
Because my wicked desires wasted away into embers
I love you…I love you…These feelings are ever so new!
I LOVE YOU…I love you…These feelings are always true!
You knew I honestly adored you…oh yeah; I always did from the start
But you don’t consider those mild feelings—you wrecked those bits by bits
Ah! Now I’m crammed into the ascending fire, splintering me with the strokes of death
Because of my virtuous desires, I’m wasting away into the pit of corruption
I thought you were encompassed with my passionate kisses
But you wanted to chase after your callous blisses, now I’m faced with crises
I detest the thought of adoring you…but I have to admit—I love you!
I love you…I love you with all of my heart! Do you love me too?
I know the desires that I have constructed for you never occurred in your heart
I know in the bottom of my heart that you were only enticed by your sick pleasures
You’re dumping me into the raging fire and you’re a sneaky little liar
Because I ain’t lying like you do deceitfully to me—I’m in love and I can’t draw back my desire
You brought magnificence in my eyes, comforting angel
But I’m subsiding into the cavernous fire
Because I surrender to my legit desire
How could I free from the embrace that yanks on to me?
You brighten up my dreams and set me free from reality’s calamity
I love you…I love you…These feeling relieve me from the blue!
I LOVE YOU…I love you…I adore your every existence—do you get the clue?
You knew I kept this feeling inside for so long
Nevertheless, I feel that I belong
In your heart…In His heart…
In my heart…we’ll never depart!
You are my true endeavor
And I wanna win your heart forever!
You’ll always be loved because you’re above beautiful
But, you don’t believe this love will survive in this stranded palace
But I’ll attempt to win you with all of my might and I’ll defeat the malice
Our boundless love is like two fireflies floating in the midnight sky
But you disturbed our greetings and you didn’t even accept the feelings I felt for you
Why did you blow away our interweaved feelings of passion
And blew them away into the heartless fire?
My precious love, why did you diminish my eternal desire?
You knew I worshiped you
In my sensitive heart
Though the rain pounds outside,
Bidding everyone in my surroundings
To wear a grim frown
On their faces
I choose to open the door of my house
And to run, bare feet, in the open
Letting my skin be soaked
With those drips dripping from the skies,
Drips which ruin my brushed-up hair
And smear my made-up face
Making me look as messy as would
Be a cave woman!
Submerged in my own fluid realm,
I close my eyes
And dance with imaginary friends,
All who like me
Can only care to please themselves,
Without even opening their books to give
Their stories some space to plot out about what those
Who do not enjoy celestial showers
Would deem to think about them merely by glancing
At their clumsy dance moves!
If I choose to let myself be swayed by thundery showers
Or by the flow of the winds enouncing of how grand
Our world is,
So grand that it allows everyone treading upon its soils
Some space to enact for themselves,
Their own roles in a script which has been
Written by some higher power,
Why can’t it be that
We simply feel inborn in us, the surge to be like flowers;
Existing merely for our fragrance and our beauty,
While allowing life to create for itself
More artistry
By giving permission to bees to share our pollen?
Why can’t it be that
We see in others, the same essence
That inhabits us?
And since we shall all leave, someday,
After shedding off our useless and lifeless corpses
Why can’t we make our duty
That of understanding
That only when respect is given
Is it returned!
After all, when I enjoy dancing in the rain
I opinionate not
About those who stay indoors
I, rather,
Am so engrossed in experiencing the mystery
Of existence according to my personality
And the physical attributes that
Have been given to me,
That everything and everyone else
Become mere fumes!
Respect is my oars,
It allows me to keep rowing my boat
Further and further into murky waters
Since, armed with it,
Ancient creatures fear me!
Respect is my drive,
It allows me to set up my car
Into racing mode
So as to reach the finishing line as
As a winner!
Respect is my breath,
It allows me to be virtuous
While I transit in a world
Which shall never be mine!
Respect is my birthright,
I swear allegiance to it,
But
I make sure
To return it only when it is
Given to me!
Five gray, silver, and white haired crones
Navigated slimy green stones
Like tight rope walkers
Having been summoned by the wind talkers
They crossed a shallow creek
Each feeble and weak
They entered consecrated woods
Wearing cloaks and hoods
Upon awareness of being pursued
Their minds were filled with frantic thoughts of how to delude
The shadow of death
With quickened pulse and breath
One step ahead of the reaper
With soothing thoughts of being embraced by the time keeper
Five naked, old women swayed hand in hand around a fire
As the flames got higher and higher
They called the watchtowers of East, South, West, and North
And owl, bat, and snake to guard the circle as they issued forth
All while chanting hail and glory
To the goddess of folklore and story
Hecate-protector of witches
Grantor of youth, abundance, and riches
Torch and key bearing Lady of the crossroads
Divine matriarch of ancient wisdom and hallowed codes
The crones mixed a cauldron brew of aconite, mandrake, and myrrh
Intoxicated by the fumes-their vision began to blur
They drank their potion from a dragon engraved silver chalice
Upon the wings of ecstasy they ascended to Hecate’s palace
With the matron’s touch their third eye was opened to sight
The could see all that was once concealed and interpret at the speed of light
They began passing through life fast forward then reverse
Five old women joined together to avoid life’s inevitable curse
They danced and chanted from midnight to dawn
Wrinkles and sagging-fading-then gone
Eyes locked, stumbling, and entranced
Being transformed and enhanced
Gifted with immortality
Enlightened by the superior mentality
They Rhode the lightening back to the earth realm
To walk forever in the shade of the witches elm
Five blonde, red, and brown haired ladies
Escaped from the brink of Hades
Departing from the Goddess’ embrace
Five youthful women left their Divine Mother’s sacred, secluded place
With her guidance, they strolled out of the woods, and jumped a shallow creek
No longer feeble and weak
They returned to civilization
Disguising themselves and their realization
For they would be persecuted and walk through the flame
For bearing Hecate’s name
But one day upon hearing the Lady’s command
They shall rise up and once again take her hand
Im Saven my freestyle rhymes so I got da proof n soon I'll be raising da mothaen roof, feeling bullet proof..with all my skills shining through..my competitors ain't know what to do.. when I grab da Mike ..they know they through... Spitting dope rhymes til they getting high from da dope fumes rising from my Microphone, now they leaving yo. They know they got no chance 2 win any battle against me. No competition for this oleschool rap musician making them disappear like im a en magician...they b running they b twichen n of course they b en n wishes they didn't motivate this freestyle main-e-ack now they all under attack.
I've been writing a lot lately, poetry. Comedy n freestyle raps, giving mothaers heart attacks. My compatision fallen fast, blasted n smoked. I ain't no joke. Everyone finishing last. Day taken snapshots at my sexy ass. I'm now standing alone at da Top of da class so all my haters can kiss my ass.. . Fast or slow.. it ain't matter yo..I am unstoppable, like an F5 Tornado, blowen my competitors apart ..morning, noon or after dark, sreadding MC's like im a great white shark!!
Tearing the mothaers slowly apart from every possible angle. Die-angle to a en triangle. I got every possible angel covered til them mothaers smothered n I'm so hot they starting to smolder n smoke. Take a nice long toke til u start 2 choke..now they know what dis freestyle rappers all about. Turn u out ..choke u out til you en passen out. While I'm passen out my demo.. that is gonna demolish anyone in my way yo. Either way ya wanna see it I'll be undefeated n I en mean it. Gotta gansta lean a gansta limp with a tight gansta grip on my .45 with an extra 50 shot clip. This is real n legit n I won't en quit with da.45 hangen off my right hip with that extra en clip..
Maken mothafukers limp like they a dope pimp...
Now I'm heading 4 my dope ride..
2 get da away from dis homicide...
The seen was messy, the seen was sick..
Mothaers learning arithmetic..
5 glock 9 rounds will kill ya quick!!!
Or it will kill ya slow..
Either ing way your gonna die Yo!!!
ing with me n keeping yo life..
Don't ing mix, n I'm not gonna tell ya 2wice...
Once is enough n s gonna get rough..
U gonna get roughed up ..stuck up ..n hit up..Your body on da back of da pick-up..
Not anymore able to hick-cup..!!
The spirits come for a late night ethereal visit
the little girl announces her presence
Breath in Breath out
there is nothing to forgive
Your pain is validation you still live
With that... all sense of hearing dissapears
next comes paralysis with its icy grip, breath chocked by irrational fear
Now starts the grainy images of an old terrible black and white news reel
fuzzy subtitles of smiling troops whose words we cannot read or hear
with loud military music assaulting the ears.
Breath in Breath out
there is nothing to forgive
Your pain is validation you still live
Silence returns as the gates of hell swing open right on cue,
the cast of ghostly characters come into view
all take their place until the scene is complete,
the silence is broken by a lone heart beat.
She takes her place in the news reel's flickering images of light
The camera follows her every move, a crescendo of music as her spirit takes flight,
for this maybe the first time she ever experienced a confectionery delight.
Breath in Breath out
there is nothing to forgive
Your pain is validation you still live
Her and many faceless children come laughing, disembodied hands reaching out
to the young soldiers in return receiving tootsie rolls and gummi bears
Pleasant encounters must now end... with a village elder and authoritarian shouts.
We watch her run home laughing with a pocket full of candy to share.
Evil breaths in, Evil breaths out... exhaling caustic hate
The Acrid fumes blinds our eyes
as shadowy figures materialize...
for this little pretty little girl was nothing more than bait
The small moment of humanity will be exchanged for eternal despair
She must return with her pink backpack to complete this morbid affair.
Running calling to us, laughing holding it out for us to see
Boom then she is gone, nothing but a red mist where she used to be.
Breath in, Breath out
there is no need
for you to grieve
Your pain is validation both you and I live
there is nothing to forgive
no need to pay anymore dues
fore I am your guardian now watching over you
Evil knows no bounds as it locks people into such cruel fates.
We both are sorry for meeting that March day
and with that the flickering news reel ends.
we part ways again.