Long High priced Poems

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


Future of a Gnostic World

Light shining through stained glass windows 
Rainbows tearing light from worldly shadows 
From the windows of aeons
With Valentinus and Seth as icons  
Banners of the sayings of Christ
From the bright Gospel of Thomas unpriced 
A sun cross tearing day from night 
In the centre of the church bathed in light 

Above there is a mosaic vault
Of Barbelo wearing gold without fault 
Above the vault is a salt pond
Dripping down from Barbelo’s olive wand 
To the words “Michar, Micheaus”
To a river for baptism for us 
Hymns fill the cathedral at night
Hymns of Sophia’s cries for flowing light 

As morning begins, prayers are blown 
To the seed-bearing plants and trees alone 
To untangle the angels trapped
Who cry for their darkness to be unwrapped 
After this, people meditate 
On themselves beyond the black, iron gate
Or reading the poems of Blake
On diamond roads in the shape of a snake

Going to grand theatres for all
Where souls have made two greats lights in the hall
To see souls in costumes high priced
Mirroring the death and life of bright Christ 
The life and death of great Mani 
The fall and redemption of bright Sophie 
The ascent of great Allogenes 
Where workers have made stars for the black screens 

Traveling, looking all around 
The ocean’s depths to see Saklas chained up 
Traveling, singing as they prayed 
Flying to the stars in steel birds they made 
Surpassing great Babel’s tower 
Remembering the power of Norea 
As they see the bird’s flames flowing
That Norea burned Noah’s ark resting 

Dancing in everlasting rings 
Holding one another’s hands without strings 
Dancing around the sun of life  
Singing “Amen” without a care or strife 
Thinking of the bridal chamber
Where mankind is reborn as a mirror 
Of the heavens above heaven
Dancing round as a ring of eleven 

Mankind resting in the sunlight 
Though awake in the garden from the height 
I will not live to see this sight 
And it is a dream I wrote down in plight 
We are bricklayers without spite 
Of a Gnostic church that will stand upright 
If we all dream in mankind’s night
Our dream will see the morning’s shining light
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member California Exodus

                      ~California Exodus~



No, I do not seek your agreement!
After living in California, I find a predicament.
It feels like I have a brain filled with acrid cement!

If you want to live sanely and quite well, 
Super-Sanctuary states, like California, may 
be your baby’s, very death knell.

Now, if you have tons of green cash, 
California may be your state, we are loaded with 
taxes, 
And extremely high priced gas!

In San Francisco, your child can pass a grade now
At twenty one per cent? ( this has changed!)
All that I can mutter aloud, is holy cow,and a mind in a 
state of cement!

We pay you to fly here, and kill an unborn child?
And will even reward you, if you steal up tp six hundred 
dollars, folks here think, that is mild?
Our state’s insane government, has grown so wild!

Even our smaller cities, are filled with tents, people
sleeping on park benches and rambling homeless.
Only the weather is mild and has some common 
sense.

This state is nearly broke 
With incredible taxes, working long hours to support
the philosophy of the “woke”.
Drive through Berkeley, you get a contact high from
all manner of drog laden, smoke.

So many great Californians have left this state,
To live happily(where morality and loving the USA)
is not looked upon with spite and all manner of drug
filled-smoke at high rates.

I first came anxiously West,in ninety-hundred and fifty-
six!
Eloped in a snowstorm from Chicago,it was no easy picks.
It has transformed from heaven to earth here, into one 
state that is mentally sick!

Note!
This is only my opinion, a poem is not factual.
These are my experiences, quite vividly actual!
I have written many poems that are positive 
about California.
Form: Rhyme

A Beautiful Death

A Beautiful Death

High on a hill hidden by shrubs
I am embraced by the branches of trees
I am worshiped by nature
I hide from the exhaustion of humanity’s harassment
I am safe from the horrendous appetite of others
Here comes a high-priced counselor hollering about an inheritance bequeath by my ancestors
He does not pay homage to the harmonic hum of creation
He swats at the harmless honeybees hovering in non-threating swarms
He fails to hear the healing hymns shared by my Father
He has hunted me down to handover hundreds and thousands worth of useless currency
How did he find me?
He is horrified when I asked him to keep his check
Instead…give me what the Spartans called “A beautiful death.”

When moments of melancholy manipulate my mind
I remain in my imagination
Where merry memories as a minor make me remember mere minutes of mirth
Immediately I am reminded of how miserable my millennium has become
My emotions seem meaningless
My time on Mother Earth, a mistake
Remarkably my mood mutates
And I ask My Lord for mercy;
Remove me from this realm
And give me what the Spartans call “A beautiful death.”

Quietly in my coffin—tricked into wearing a tux
A comical smirk marks my mask
I could have collapsed on a corner
Countless wouldn’t have noticed
One more cigarette would have been nice—
Because cancer did not caress my corpse
So-called companions circle my casket
Consoling each other with questions
They are all concerned… “Suicide?” they asked
They sincerely think they could have rescued me
From the epic conclusion of my existence
Their cold-hearts in chaos—they are infected with karma
Could The Creator resurrect me back to collect compensation for their cruelty?
I would decline
Let me relax in peace 
And keep what the Spartans call “A beautiful death.”

Fond Memories

We weren't rich by any means
but our bellies were full and our clothes were clean

They didn't display those high priced names
but they wore fine just the same

We didn't ride around in fancy cars
Grandma saved pennies in a big glass jar

We learned early that money doesn't grow on trees
we also learned to say "thank you" and "please"

I mowed the grass in the summertime
My sister helped hang the clothes on the line

My cousin usually took out the trash
On Friday we'd each get seven dollars cash

At nigh we slept under a big window fan
It made the most comforting sound when it ran

We put a beaten on that old screen door
We must have popped it a million times or more

In the Fall we'd all gather up wood
and invite every kid in the neighborhood 

Grandaddy would build us a pretty good fire
We'd all roast hotdogs on coat hanger wires

Our first roller skates had metal wheels
with rubber stoppers on the backs of the heels

We had a paved alley alongside the house
You could see sparks when we skated around

Every couple of years we'd get a new bike
We'd attach playing cards to all of the spikes

We'd attach them with grandma's wooden clothespins
so it would sound like our bikes had motorcycle engines

As I look back on our childhood
I think we had it pretty good

We didn't need all the fancy stuff
We had each other and that was enough

Grandma's house was our favorite place
We'd never felt more loved and safe

That old house was home to us
It was the best even when we'd fight and fuss

Those memories to me are so crisp and clear
I will always hold them very dear
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Building Tension

 

"One Road leads to tension and worry; one road leads to fear and dread.
My road leads me home to tranquility, to peace, serenity and solitude."

                                                                Quote by _Constance

                        A safe haven,
             a home I call my nest;
created piece by piece by piece,
fabricated with all the items that I love.
                       Each room a place of peace,
like a bird 'building' a nest I have gathered things;
beautiful things that bring serenity and joy,
      this is my safe harbor from life.
              It is a grand mansion to me,
                        tranquility is in each room;
I breathe in the harmony and the solitude.
            no matter what is happening beyond.
  Once the door closes I am safe . . . 
protected within my nest from the strains of life.

                         There is 'tension,'
            in todays restless world;
the constant worry of a war,
dread, fear, and malaise at too high-priced groceries.
                         People are under stress,
it makes them agitated, hostile, lashing out;
there is the threat of global warming- senseless killing.
      How can I save the animals ?
             How can I stem world starvation ?
                         Oh, what if I can save  just one cat or,
dog?  Or help a homeless person in some way?
            Why do I feel like a wilted flower ?
  And seek the security of my nest  . . . 
that place assembled piece by piece for peace.
Form: Verse


Premium Member A Christmas Letter

I'm not overly fond of receiving a family's annual gushing story,
In the form of a Christmas Letter stating that all is hunky-dory.
I received one the other day in which they told the honest truth,
And I'll relay its contents though of me it may be somewhat uncouth!

"My son Jimmy who was in the army gave a sergeant a lot of sass,
And was unceremoniously invited to leave the service by the army brass!
Daughter Sarah became in a 'family way' bringing me much disgrace.
The father of the kid left the state and of him there is not a trace!"

"Son Robert attempted to rob a bank and now languishes in jail.
The judged sentenced him to twenty years sans the benefit of bail.
My husband up and left me for that hussy waitress at Joe's Cafe.
That left me with little money, having to keep bill-collectors at bay!"

"My sister fell on hard times and moved in with her three little brats.
She also brought along three hounds, a nasty parrot and two hissing cats!
My trusty old 85 Chevy blew a rod and left me without wheels;
I can't afford another car because of outrageously high-priced deals!"

She goes on to say, "I hope all has gone well at your house this year.
As you can see, this past year ain't been one for me of great cheer!"
I appreciated her honesty but found her dismal plight quite appalling.
Her letter left me quite bereft and before you know it, I started bawling!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Form: Rhyme

The Greatest Failure

Perhaps the greatest failure of all time
occurred in the last 100 years,
with no fanfare or remorse
and little discussion in high places.

The possibility for the human race
to raise itself with better health
and longer life has been squandered,
by destructive behavior and ignorance.

People have fallen into a state,
where false social media posts
and advertisements
change opinions and behavior.

Stupor prevails on couches and chairs,
during long evenings in front of cell phones and TV’s,
full of senseless dialog and flirtation,
with advertising designed to corrupt.

The next day is different for these electronic novitiates,
who eat and buy what they’re told,
without regard for impact on health
or how it affects longevity.

A desire for processed and fast foods 
reaches a peak following clever advertisements,
and bodies are assaulted with sugar and chemicals 
void of fiber, enzymes and vitamins.

Tobacco, alcohol and other destructive products
fill shopping carts and shorten lives,
while pharmacies pump out high priced counter measures,
in an effort to reverse the tragedy.

Lifespans are shortened by this stupor,
and no one seems to care,
as weight increases and mental health decreases
to the masses sitting in front of screens.

This colossal failure will be recorded
in history books someday.
Children will ask how it happened,
and no one will have an answer.

Frankie Boy

when you get old enough,and are like me,you want to solve mysteries.
my oldman being the case,
very violent
never knew consequences for his actions.

his father protected him,spent thousands of dollars in bailing him out of jail
spent even more in most cases in providing high priced attorney's to aid his son in Federal crimes.

my oldmans mother owned a saloon and died early in his life,this loss sent him into destruction....
drinking
hard drugs
fire arms
murder
domestic violence
infidelity
armed robbery would become Frankie Boy's menu.

what makes this tale complicated is that in his mayhem he was in is own right a Renaissance man.he loved horses taught him self how to ride,he was a lefty in playing golf.
he wanted to be a undertaker because he saw it's money making potential
he wanted to be a Police officer but there was a hiring freeze
he flew small airplanes as a crop duster.

so when telling this story you need to take a breath.
what do you make of a man who loved silence on top of the roof of an apartment building then in that same place take a 12 gage shotgun and from that roof top kill a man in the street.
  
in time a car accident did him in,caused him paralysis from his neck down
he would die in hospital
with assistance of drugs that were injected into his IV by one of his visiting druggie friends.
so before the angels came,he died in bed
shhhhhh.

Ain'T No Different

You’ve been a yes man your whole life,
don’t know any other way to be
Licking the boots and sucking up real close
was the best way to get ahead,
according to your fawning calculation
Self-respect was an acceptable sacrifice
Being a lackey had its perks,
nobody ever looked at you as a threat ...
	to their power
An effete life that’s safely protected
by the powers-that-be
You always followed orders blindly
And influential women loved making you
yield and submit to their every demand
You were their favorite yes man
Giving your nose a deeper color of brown,
you never cared what you smelled like
		           	       getting pissed on
Being a yes man ain’t no different
	than being a whore
Your pimped out loyalty
	is bought and paid for
Having your closeness to power
each day timed on the clock
Then carrying your soiled pride home
each night to get washed
			Licking and sucking,
you’re a bottom feeder for sure
Top-notch yes man,
		a well-paid whore
Didn’t matter to you whatever decision was made,
rubber stamped covered morality 
was how your integrity got laid ...
	         You’re just another modern day slave
Being a yes man ain’t no different
than being a high-priced whore
Your obsequious service as a servile hell boy
is dirty, filthy lucre dirty paid for

Texas Pride, American Born

The men of the Alamo knew there was little to no chance,
As they stood valiant in defiance of Santa Anna’s devastating advance.
Such a paradox these men faced knowing death would be their certain fate,
Their unselfish courage is part of what makes this country so great.

Refusing to live under the hand of a tyrant they chose to stand ready to fight,
Those men never tasted the sweetness of victory as they fought for what was right.
Their sacrifice was not to be in vain for it gave Houston the time he would need,
To finish recruiting and training his men for this one final deed.

Houston caught Santa Anna by surprise that April day in 1836 as the cry of Remember the
Alamo rang loud and clear.
Badly beaten, Santa Anna signed the Treaty of Velasco, granting Texas its independence
which we hold so dear.
Texas has spawned many heroes since, as freedom is not a gift but a very high priced
commodity,
One that has cost countless life’s in this quest to be free.

From the Alamo to Pearl Harbor to the Shores of Tripoli,
Lies a trail of American blood, spilt to keep us safe so we can live free.
And to the young warriors now that have taken on this monumental task,
Give them all strength and courage, but above all keep them safe in Jesus’ name I do ask.
Form: Verse

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