Long Heroic couplet Poems
Long Heroic couplet Poems. Below are the most popular long Heroic couplet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Heroic couplet poems by poem length and keyword.
Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of Michael R. Burch
To outfox the pox:
kill yourself first, with Clorox!
And since death is the goal,
mainline Lysol!
No vaccine?
Just chug Mr. Clean!
Is a cure out of reach?
Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!
To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!
To immunize your bride,
drown her in Opti-cide!
To end all future gridlocks,
gargle with Vaprox!
Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!
Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
Less Heroic Couplets: Just Desserts
by Michael R. Burch
“The West Antarctic ice sheet
might not need a huge nudge
to budge.”
And if it does budge,
denialist fudge
may force us to trudge
neck-deep in sludge!
NOTE: The first stanza is a quote by paleoclimatologist Jeremy Shakun in Science magazine.
Less Heroic Couplets: Miss Bliss
by Michael R. Burch
Domestic “bliss”?
Best to swing and miss!
Less Heroic Couplets: Then and Now
by Michael R. Burch
BEFORE: Thanks to Brexit, our lives will be plush! ...
AFTER: Crap, we’re going broke! What the hell is the rush?
Less Heroic Couplets: Dear Pleader
by Michael R. Burch
Is our Dear Pleader, as he claims, heroic?
I prefer my presidents a bit more stoic.
Less Heroic Couplets: Less than Impressed
by Michael R. Burch
for T. M., regarding certain dispensers of lukewarm air
Their volume’s impressive, it’s true ...
but somehow it all seems “much ado.”
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry I
by Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the heart’s caged rhythm,
the soul’s frantic tappings at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry II
by Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the trapped soul’s frantic tappings
at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Seesaw
by Michael R. Burch
A poem is the mind teetering between fact and fiction,
momentarily elevated.
Less Heroic Couplets: Passions
by Michael R. Burch
Passions are the heart’s qualms,
the soul’s squalls, the brain’s storms.
Keywords/Tags: Donald Trump, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, couplet, humor, humorous, Clorox, Lysol, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, America, USA, giggle, political, natural disasters
Jawab-e-Shikwa
THE ANSWER TO THE COMPLAINT BY ALLAH ALMIGHTY SIDE TO PIOUS PEOPLE OF THE WHOLE UNIVERSE:
https://youtu.be/EXRl5VKq39M
When passion streaming from the heart turns human lips to lyres,
Some magic wings man’s music then, his song with soul inspires;
Man’s words are sacred then, they soar, The ears of heaven they seek,
From dust those mortal accents rise, Immortals hear them speak;
So wild and wayward was my Love, such tumult raised its sighs,
Before its daring swiftly fell the ramparts of the skies.
The skies exclaimed in wonderment, “Some one is hiding here,”
The wheeling Planets paused to say, “Seek on the highest sphere.”
The silver Moon said, “You are wrong, Some mortal it must be,”
The Milky Way too joined converse, “Here in our midst is he.’’
Rizwan alone, my plaintive voice began to recognise,
He knew me for a human who had lost his Paradise.
And even the Angels could not tell what was that voice so strange,
Whose secret seemed to lie beyond Celestial wisdom’s range.
They said, “Can Man now roving come and reach these regions high?
That tiny speck of mortal clay, has it now learnt to fly?
How little do these beings of earth the laws of conduct know;
How coarse and insolent they are, these men who live below.
So great their insolence indeed, they dare even God upbraid!
Is this the Man to whom their bow the Angels once had made?
Of Quality and Quantity He knows the secrets, true—
The ways of humbleness as well If he a little knew!
That they alone are blest with speech how proud these humans be,
Yet, ignorant, they lack the art to use it gracefully.”
Then spake a Voice Compassionate: “Your tale enkindles pain,
Your cup is brimming full with tears which you could not contain
Even High Heaven itself is moved by these impassioned cries;
How wild the heart which taught your lips such savage melodies!
Its grace yet makes this song of yours a song of eulogy;
A bridge of converse you have formed ‘Twixt mortal man and Me!
Behold, my hands arc full of gifts, but who comes seeking here?
And how shall I the right road shew when there’s no traveller?
My loving care is there for all, If deserved but by few!
Not this the clay from which I can an Adam’s shape renew!
On him who merits well I set the brightest diadem,
And those who truly questing come, a new world waits for them.
Arriving from unknown somewhere
He set up clinic in the market square
Declared he could cure any disease
Using herbal drugs of plants and trees
Townsfolk being credulous
Soon to his shop began to rush
Diabetics, rheumatics, asthmatics flooded
None over his degree brooded
A few weeks later, afloat was this rumor
He cures for he rightly detects the humor
Realizing that every client is a prospective fan
He talked in technical terms even with laymen
He would expose his victims to numerous medical terms
Also trade-names, contents, firms, diseases and germs
Just to exhibit erudition and sound philosophy
Without occasion he embarked on learned topics
Often dwelt on sedatives and epilepsy
Or discoursed at length on tumor and biopsy
Then in a torrent of rodomontade would relate
Histories of cases cured with specific names and date
Discourses full of references to Ayurvedic treatises
Madhav, Charak, Susrut and other varieties
To prove his point he recited aloud original excerpts
As a result ,he soon won the epithet: "expert of experts"
"Discourteous ingrates! They even do not thank
Though I give 'em new life" exclaimed the mountebank.
Always eager to spar against allopathy
At the slightest provocation he would lecture on allopathic hazards
Or would lament on untidy hospitals and unhygienic wards
Boldly averring: "To hide anything from patients is a deadly sin"
Within no time he became a celebrity
His tricks worked and brought him publicity
After a year DHO came to see him in person
And sought his counsel for his sick son
A minister's car at his doorstep halted
Just to enhance libido and weakness treated
He gave the minister powerful mercury dust
Which triggered his vigor and inflamed his lust
Then to CM's ears reached his fragrant fame
Who called him secretly telling him not to declare name
MPs in turn heard of this rare phenomenon
And turned up to consult him one by one
Director drug control came to seek his advice
For chronic dysentery and perennial bronchitis
At length PM had to send him his compliments
For service to nation and" particular "patients
The whole world acknowledged him as master of his craft
But a person knew his truth in his own staff
His compounder knew his master was a fake
But he swallowed the secret for heaven's sake
Each day is a new day for the Police
Looking around protecting and serving the public
With a smile and politeness
They guard us from deadly criminals
Whether the weather is cold or hot, wet or dry
Whether they fear or feel joy
Whether they are sad or mad
Whether they are sick or not
Whether day or night
No matter what their personal lives holds
They took an oath to serve and protect you and me
To maintain peace, order and crime prevention
They have unlimited duties such as VIP security, Border guarding
Tackling smugglers drug traffickers and counter terrorism
And they thrive with such perfectionism
When the whole world is in deep sleep
They walk in streets looking out for any potential crime and criminals
To protect us from thieves and dangerous criminals.
They are injured, stressed, trying to do the right thing
Where we would dare not to be there in their place.
Out of honour, duty, justice and respect
They strive to save the lives they haven't met
To protect this world from the coldness and dark
They sacrifices their family and their loved ones
In order to protect us and our families at the cost of their own lives
The badge they wear is heavy that carries all the burdens
With many responsibilities overburdened
To promise to help those in need
And comforting them indeed
For they would stand guard, to serve and protect.
They never know what the day will bring
For that day could be their last day in their lives
They hardly hear the praise they deserve
They hardly are appreciated for their hard work.
They hardly hear the words of Thanks
They are the ones who do incredible sacrifice
Making the world better by their sacrifice
Every day in everyway
They are the real heroes who risk their lives every day
For they have a dangerous job
Bringing different challenges throughout every day
They are constantly being faced with the unknown and the unpredictable situations
With frustrations and complications, when the things are complex.
With pride integrity they protect our world
And making a better place to live in.
Their commitment is beyond priceless
Always willing to give their life to protect others
May God bless them and keep them safe
Be proud to be the Police officer!
In Life’s old garden nations lived who all its fruits enjoyed,
While others longed in vain, while some the winter blasts destroyed;
Its trees are legion; some decay, While others flush with bloom,
And thousands still their birth await, Hid in the garden’s womb;
A symbol of luxuriance, The Tree of Islam reigns,
Its fruits achieved with centuries of garden-tending pains.
Your robe is free from dust of home, Not yours such narrow ties,
That Yousuf you, who Canaan sweet, In every Egypt lies;
The qafila can never disperse You holdest the starting bells9
Nothing else is needed, if your will Your onward march impels.
You candle-tree! your wick-like root, Its top with flame illumes,
Your thought is fire, its very breath all future care consumes.
And you will suffer no surcease should Iran’s star decline,
It is not the vessel which decides the potency of wine;
It is proved to all the world, from tales of Tartar conquerors,
The Kaaba brave defenders found in temple-worshippers.
In you relies the bark of God, Adrift beyond the bar,
The new-born age is dark as night, And you its dim pole-star.
The Bulgars march! the fiend of war in fearful fury breathes;
The message comes: “Sleepers, awake! The Balkan cauldron seethes.”
You deem this a cause of grief,Your heart is mortified;
But no, your pride, your sacrifice, Thus, once again, are tried.
Beneath your foes if chargers neigh? Why tremble you in fright?
For never, never, shall their breath extinguish Heaven’s light.
Not yet have other nations seen what you are truly worth,
The realm of Being has need of you for perfecting this earth.
If anything yet keeps world alive, ‘It is yours impetuous zeal,
And you will rise its ruling star, And you will shape its weal.
This is no time for idle rest, Much yet remains undone;
The lamp of tawhid needs your touch to make it shame the sun!
You are like fragrance in the bud, Diffuse yourself: be free.
Perfume the garden breeze, and fill the earth with scent of you.
From dusty speck, do you increase to trackless desert-main.
From a faint breeze, a tempest grow, Become a hurricane!
Raise you, through Love, all humble to greatness and to fame;
Enlighten you the groping world with dear Muhammad’s Name.
In a past life I must have killed a priest,
or could it be that on flesh i did feast?
Maybe I brutally raped a God ordained nun.
Because in this life I am being shunned.
My kittens have died, one every other day.
Three total and one other will not get that pardon or stay.
Feline leukemia, so all my cats will surely die.
The only humane thing is to euthanize, and so I cry.
Lois, then Jasper, next Quagmire, now Emmett too,
The mama cat, and their older brother will die, how can we get through?
Hopefully the three orphans weren't exposed enough,
Four weeks until we'll know, why does life have to be so tough?
The mama, Maxine, was named after my grandma who died,
the kids and Illyanna got her for me, because all I did was cry.
A year and a half of joy and love she brought to me.
Why does she and all the kittens have to die, is what I plea.
What have I done to have a life where I struggle every day?
I'm not a bad person, I'm kind and loving, how much more must we pay?
A mother, who didn't want me for a while, many men who used and abused me.
At times like this, it makes me want to give up on life, to turn and flee.
They say God doesn't give you more than you can handle at one time,
I feel like its a lie, I feel unjustly convicted of a horrible crime.
Today I have to choose, let my animals suffer or give them the mercy of death.
To bury six members of my family in seven days, will leave me bereft.
How much torture and pain must one person or family have to go through?
This isn't some fiction story, every word I write is nothing but true.
Every passing minute, more of my heart breaks piece by piece.
I don't smoke, or drink, or do drugs, or have sex, so I have no release.
Let me wake, and it be nothing more than a horrible dream,
I can't take much more of this crappy bad luck, its too extreme.
God, if you're there, why are you doing this to all of us?
I've always been told You are someone we can trust!
Please God, please don't take anything else away.
My heart and soul whither as the ends start to fray.
Tell me what you want me to do and I will gladly obey.
Just please, Dear God, I can't handle the agonizing dismay.
I was up on deck of the USS Arizona doing the morning chores,
When another plane came along, so I just passed it by, gores,
Because they landed at Ford Island all the time, but this time,
It was strafing me, attacking me repeatedly as I was the prime.
So I ran forward to get under cover, and I did not get hurt,
But then another plane came around the same way, girt,
But again, nobody got hit, so I proceeded to go inside,
Back to my battle station, when a bomb hit where I did hide.
It knocked me out, ruptured both lungs, all lights went out,
And I awoke and picked up where I left off, with no pout,
Pearl Harbour was rank with warfare, bullets flew all around,
And I don’t know how long I had laid there, but I was bound.
I was intent on opening the water-tight door, not allowed,
In battle conditions to be entered, but I managed proud,
I made my way to the turret to assist there, and one said,
“Boy, you’re a good boy Carson,” they just needed me red.
There was no panic down there or anything, but much water,
And smoke, and they don’t mix, and then a commander
Told me to come on deck and help, but we were at a loss,
The ship was beat, and we then had to abandon and toss.
But just before I did, I ran into a friend, crying and dying,
Burnt, skin dangling off his body, very openly just hanging,
So I took his arm, but there was nothing that I could do,
So he died later, and its bothered me all my life through.
So they gave the word “abandon ship” and so I stepped off,
Not knowing how badly I was hurt, so passed out, did turnoff,
I went down in the water and it was peaceful and nice,
And then I saw this bright light, but something saved me, ice.
I got back up to the water’s surface, but burning oil,
Surrounded me in a complete circle, but, no more toil,
The next thing I knew was somebody’s arm on mine,
Pulling me out the water, and then I knew I’d be fine.
I made it to Ford Island sick bay but saw another there,
Whose intestines were in his hands, holding them bare,
And who said to me “War sure is hell isn’t it, shipmate,”
So I replied and just got up and walked out, straight.
Died January 14th 2001
When a man chooses to want
Only a smile can get a sparkle in his heart
But the man’s heart in not in his chest
Because you see, the heart is in the mind to think
And the mind is in the heart to feel,
Flawless control in a duet starts to roll.
From a sparkle in his heart becomes a fire in his mind
And a fire in his mind leaves the heart in it needs
For what it wants is a bigger fire for it then you can feel.
It is the heart who had betrayed us in the beginning of this journey,
Of swimming through life with the illusion of control
In need of feel and in feel on need
In need of food and in need of shelter
In need of power and in need of control
All just in the name of the hearts dream,
A crude dream that will conquer us all.
First we must let our-self ignite
Because in our-self's is the mind in his control
Because everything is a reflection of a reflection
Our consciousness is in our thoughts, only for ourselves to know
That's the law of universe in the things that roll
From small to big in a spiral cone,
From the two particles in perfect motion,
That forms the motion of it all
- gravity !
A star is born from its spiral core
So you and I can see
A sun to us and a sun to the galaxy
But a father of this planet and life on it to be
Cause you see our planet in reality is another sun yet to be
In a cause in which we all grow one day to see
Experiencing the journey of the universe in which we see
All things ever created and ever to be
Because at its end end
we are all the same and equal in every way
One movement in a cloud of dreams
One thought, one mind, one body
One final duet for the universe to sing
A mind of itself at everything that is and it can be
At the end we will all see
What the universe really is and what it can be
Only then
A true god will be born that we all take part in feel
Only at the end of the end is all the same
When the fire from the heart is gone
Only then the creation had began
Again from the start of everything and back here
To the planet earth that holds life on its own
In a bigger spiral of the galactic core
It's all a duet of balancing the hole
because the hole is itself the balance of it all
I'm kind of taken by Jeremy Corbyn, the man and his success,
And believe that for the leadership role he may be able to dress;
I think what’s going unsaid is that he’s kind of in a way funny,
Minutely, not gloomy like Brown or Miliband, but kind of somewhat sunny.
He’s a breath of fresh air on the economy and education,
‘Cos he’ll tax the rich more and increase the tax of corporation,
He’ll set up a National Education Service for any and for all,
And restrict free schools so that upon liberality they will call.
Tax evasion will be dealt with, so Amazon and Starbucks can cower,
And housing rents will be controlled, to let the hard-worker flower;
Immigration will not be dismissed, and welfare reform will be opposed,
And Trident will not be renewed, as political solutions will be supposed.
The renationalisation of energy giants will stop high electricity bills,
And Europe will centre in British politics and system safety drills;
The NHS will not be privatised but with social care it will be warm,
And women’s workplace rights will be proffered in a massive, great big swarm.
He'll have a Minister for the Arts, to trophy art, music, literature and poetry,
He opposed the Iraq war, and will work with Russia at diplomacy;
He’ll fight for socialism and its beliefs, but in a modern way, considered,
And he’ll represent normal people, because he comes from Salford.
However, I don't like John MacDonnell, the Shadow Chancellor of the Exchequer,
Who should be more for the centrist view and a conscientious people reader;
His right-hand man should be someone who gives the opinion of the party’s right,
To offset Labour Leader Mr Corbyn and his radical, militant, socialistic fight.
But all the best to you, Jeremy, I hope things go your way,
And you stabilise the country with the left-wing policies of the day;
Although your shadow cabinet should be more representative in its views,
I hope that the economy rewards you for your heartfelt unionist dues.
You can read some of Jeremy Corbyn's poetry at http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/politics/Jeremy_Corbyn/11844716/Published-at-last-the-poems-of-Jeremy-Corbyn.html
Keats’ Nightingale
The romantic poets were too early to postulate total atheism,
And so freshened up the church by aligning god with nature,
And I believe they had a preference for nature over god or theism,
Because they never posit him as social with high, tall stature.
Keats says that the nightingale exemplifies nature as active,
As bestowing upon all human beings meaning, sense and worth,
Since the bird’s song objectifies how nature truly is effective,
Fulfilled by happiness, and aimed at contentment and rebirth.
Nature triggers in us thoughts and words to settle and allure,
Offers us our language to dispel pain and find the cure,
And Keats contends that poetry, the credibility of its form,
Epitomises what nature proffers, a receptacle rather warm.
When you feel awkwardly suicidal with nowhere else to turn,
Nature lullabies you into your own sense, one you can rip and burn;
No controlled access freeways, no road signs for your safety,
Only soft, quiet communication that's never guilty of brevity.
Just as nature is beautiful, so Keats claims people as beautiful too,
As he uses the word beauty right in the middle of his nature exposé;
He referred to flora, the moon, the stars, the forest and what seems true,
Tnat song of the nightingale that's for anyone, as this bird is not choosey.
He suggests that light or positivity in nature means movement,
That the soft breeze dispels the gloom and mossy pavement;
Quantum physics does reduce matter back down to interactive particles,
In which kinetic energy can be mistaken for minuscule, motionless articles.
His mentor is the nightingale as part of nature’s whole,
No minister or clergyman to advise him on his soul,
Stillness and bird song scent his poisoned air surrounding,
And it is all but for the silence of that beauteous music, astounding.
Nature does not irritate him when he surmises and introspects,
But upholds itself in majestic grandeur with unquestionable prospects;
It speaks about life, your life, your daily happenings and exotic dreams,
And forever exists for us when sense is just not within our means.