Long Huns Poems
Long Huns Poems. Below are the most popular long Huns by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Huns poems by poem length and keyword.
True story, my uncle was a famous safe cracker
Before becoming a soldier in World War I
Known to police in New York City for robbery
The army wanted his skills against the Huns
Employed him to defuse bombs the Germans threw
In the trenches around the front lines
And also to defuse all the mines around them
Till the end of the war was showing signs
Dying in the war he received a medal of honour
Posthumously for his heroic bravery
Made amends for his past so unsavoury
When I came along I was named after him
Quite a hero I always looked up to
Before the war, a criminal known to police
After death got the recognition he was due
© Jack Ellison 2015
Your one hand holds the bowl of golden wine
Your chin and cheek redden in olden desire
In your eyes are shadows of the hillside pine
In your glances exposed dance of fire
Of my wine cup animatedly full to the brim
I am careful not to shed a drop on floor
In our restive eyes sparkles the impatient dream
The Huns and Vandals about to break open the door
In your chest you have stored the frozen ocean
I know I have had the key to the coveted lock
And the charge to set them free in splashing motion
For a while the time pauses in our passion clock
The maddening twirl you send out from the corner of your eye
Is too much for my folded fountain keep its poise
I can see the beautiful breaches in your cloudless sky
And then the awesome surge from both the oceans turquoise
Some miniature tremors of cracked blue time in brain
In consequence gushes of pink flood and the ruinous rain
All boundaries breaking down and nothing and none to help
A fleeting annihilation of the stupendously crushing self
________________________________________________
June 21, 2016
For the contest : That is sexy
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
Where are those green soils
That we used to dig
Waves in every pore
In soft moonlit hours
And plant sapling of choice
Ecstatic earth trembled
Do you remember
How soft earth it was
And that pond in the middle
We would plunge our bucket
And lift it filled with water
The clock yielding
cherry blossoms
Time is a dacoit
The Huns and Vandals
It robs us of our roses
It plunders our jewellery
Destructs our construction
Not just cruelly, ruthlessly
Time itself is ever present
With its indestructible two arrows
Aha, what a dense green it was
And what a tree it yielded
Sonnet under green light
Of the ephemeral glowworms
True story, my uncle was a famous safe cracker
Before becoming a soldier in World War I
Known to police in New York City for robbery
The army wanted his skills against the Huns
Employed to defuse bombs the Germans threw
In the trenches around the front lines
And also to defuse all the mines around them
Till the end of the war was showing signs
Died in the war, received a medal of honour
Posthumously for his heroic bravery
A sad end to his heroic efforts during the war
Making amends for a past unsavoury
When I was born I was named after him
His exploits made him my hero!
Poetic paean to papa's princess
Otherwise titled:
Mien wonderful wedded divine wife
whose piercing deliverance...,
a balm ameliorating tattooed strife
despite being dirt poor,
I cherish her pricelessness, how nice,
a beacon complementing/
supplementing homelife,
who will forever be with me
even during our (mine
atheistic couched) afterlife.
She, the mother
of our deux darling daughters, I adore
though ofttimes, she never knows...
expressing love tis quite an arduous chore
concerning me upon this (we quietly celebrate
wedding anniversary two days hence, whoa...
how quickly time doth pass, cuz we wed
yes already number xxiv, i.e. twenty four)
orbitz around the sun, we reminisce...
So much emotional turbulence
nearly rent asunder,
I accept culpability (yours truly)
strayed against sacred covenant
went wayward intrepid misdeeds
nearly perilously upended marriage,
said vaguely worded insensate blunder
wrought catastrophic upheaval
reigned analogous how millenniums ago
Vandals, Huns, Goths,
et cetera did plunder
and ransack the
outer limits of Roman empire
our pledged troth shattered,
whereby the missus outclassed Zeus,
she emitted deafening thunder,
yet annulment nor divorce,
she would not grant
sigh of great relief
and mystery I wonder...
To this July twenty third -
how hands of father time
speedily lept away
two thousand and twenty,
an (extra) ordinary day
to be alive and appreciate sticktoitiveness
toward her, whose troth I pledged
courtesy thee (sacrilegious infidel)
mine discreet liaisons spouse forgave
NOT telling me hike along highway
and/or boulevard of broken dreams, motorway
avoided, cuz she thee missus
WANTED me to stay
in role of legally wedded husband
(and father to deux special grown lasses)
when they (progeny)...
were just newborn babes yesterday!
Sebastian Was His Name
There a single figured stood
In a land that no man claims
Leafing though an ancient book
And Sebastian was his name
It was the first spring of the war
And with victory nowhere at hand
The only way for keeping score
Was counting words scratched in the sand
And every voice that spoke that day
On either side, gave all they could
Until there wasn’t much to say
Then fell together where they stood
No one can say, the reason why
That young Quotes come to such an end
Or if indeed they really die
Instead by fate they just transcend
Sebastian led the charge that May
As text from scrolls fell ‘round his feet
The Huns where burning books that day
But he could barely feel the heat
It wasn’t ‘till he made their line
He realized, alone he stood
And all the quotes that he possessed
Have done the others little good
With enemies now all around
And the margins closing fast
He set to pen another round
Putting all the Huns to task
After all the ink stained pages
The flowing discourse pooled like blood
Like the knowledge of the ages
Now were trampled down in mud
There a single figured stood
In a land that no man claims
Leafing though an ancient book
And Sebastian was his name
Form:
Romanus country
Romania to us
Iron curtain frontier
Dismantled by fuss
Like us all invaded
But by Goths and the Huns
Typical past history
Populations on the run
The Ottoman Empire, absorbed their souls
A free Romania the ultimate goal
Modern Romania has had its fears
The first world war
In neutrality gear
But by 1916, they released their fear
Allies they joined
As they sung the same song
Austria-Hungary they fought
To get rid of the wrong
In the second world war
Under Stalinist pressure
To remain neutral
Avenues of different measures
The Axis they joined
Once again with the Hun
With Italy and Japan
Their armies over run
Second world war over, but left with a horrific scar
Another country that went to far
Their part in the holókauston
A non defend-able time
The Antonescu regime
Crossed the line
Antonescu's approval for the removal of Jews
To concentration camps, quite horrific news
Eichmann and Richter, confirm the above
Jewish families on their final shove
The most recent chapter, in this ancient place
Nicolae Ceausescu, the people he would face
With the recent demise of the Berlin wall
This dictator so horrid, would also fall
A two hour trial on television
Would see him sentenced to his execution
Taken outside, him and his wife
For treason and genocide, they were shot on sight
Romania to date
A democracy
No longer Iron Curtain
A country now free
" In dedication to the Romanian Poets on Poetry Soup "
True story, my uncle was a famous safe cracker
Before becoming a soldier in World War I
Known to police in New York City for robbery
The army wanted his skills against the Huns
Employed him to defuse bombs the Germans threw
In the trenches around the front lines
And also to defuse all the mines around them
Till the end of the war was showing signs
Dying in the war he received a medal of honour
Posthumously for his heroic bravery
And his great contribution to the war effort
Made amends for his past so unsavoury
When I came along I was named after him
Quite a hero I always looked up to
Before the war, a criminal known to police
After death got the recognition he was due
most instances when i initially seat
myself priming creative literary juices to flow,
an unspecified number hours elapse
before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh
revelation transpires
witnessing, this scruffy, prickly,
and madly scratching itchy hairs
dotting chinny chin chin of this hobo
hook huns hitters hymns elf
tubby a generic home
er run (hitting) mill
(on the floss sing false teeth)
common everyday fluky,
nippy, nap noopy Joe,
whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea
(Egg heads, merely
scrambled random thought fragments
at that stage) scrunching brow
activates laser focus,
a scattershot burst of tangential thread populate
formerly barren tabula rasa,
sans, Lenovo external screen
once again defying (tomb me
akin to some eternal mystery),
trucked since time immemorial
inexplicable, that sudden ignition
asper cerebral automatic
catalytic converter kickstarter
(hmm...perhaps cogs and gears
housed within medulla oblongata)
foster fecund fertilization,
an inexplicable phenomena,
I dune hot know
explanation, but upon advent
whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate
coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life
when there appears just the merest hint
of fledgling wispy notions strive similar
to sperm cells
fervently whipsawing vis a vis,
via flagellation motility misfits
and false starts before this crotchety scribe
mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea
congeals, expresses, and forms
grandiose manifest destiny
mentioned above i.e. Ho
Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis
seems like a versatile
self determining tour de force
whereat fingers of the lefthand
move of their own volition spilling forth poe
whet tree once expended leaves (of grass)
finds me Walt sing whit man nigh hick cull
tickled pink with a soft after glow.
Snow-capped Alps with snow-flowers
have crowned her for millions of years;
foreign armies oppressed her for centuries,
but her children fought them,
with swords and bravery to expel them
and reclaim their right of free citizens!
On this beautiful sea-washed land
rose a powerful city which governed an empire stretching
from England to North Africa
and from Spain to Syria; my forefathers never went to Ireland,
or had intentions go beyond the Rhine into Russia,
where the Huns didn't seem a threat to anyone happily living!
Art flourished in every region: from North to South;
the builder, the sculptor and the painter
gave their passionate souls to embellish her
with churches, cathedrals and monuments
that today the masses admire a lot...
has anyone had these moments?
By now you must have a hint
of which country I'm telling you about:
it is my magnificent Italy...
that boot-shaped country!