Long Immolate Poems
Long Immolate Poems. Below are the most popular long Immolate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Immolate poems by poem length and keyword.
We no longer immolate babes on Moloch’s hideous altar.
May Heaven be thanked.
We no longer burn heretics at the stake.
May Heaven be praised
We no longer stone men and women for committing adultery.
Thank Heavens for that!
We no longer subject defendants to trial by ordeal.
We no longer engage in witch hunts.
We no longer hang men for stealing sheep
We no longer make children work in coal mines.
We no longer keep slaves.
For all these things may the Heavens be thanked.
Thus many forms of cruelty and oppression have been abolished, and yet
Today’s evils, the real whoppers, are hermetically concealed behind white walls and bland, sincere faces.
To what strange deity, utility, necessity, security are we prepared to immolate not only ourselves, noble suicides, but our children, our babes, our future.
Whom would we then have to thank?
A fly and ant, upon a sunny bank,
Discuss'd the question of their rank.
'O Jupiter!' the former said,
'Can love of self so turn the head,
That one so mean and crawling,
And of so low a calling,
To boast equality shall dare
With me, the daughter of the air?
In palaces I am a guest,
And even at thy glorious feast.
Whene'er the people that adore thee
May immolate for thee a bullock,
I'm sure to taste the meat before thee.
Meanwhile this starveling, in her hillock,
Is living on some bit of straw
Which she has labour'd home to draw.
But tell me now, my little thing,
Do you camp ever on a king,
An emperor, or lady?
I do, and have full many a play-day
On fairest bosom of the fair,
And sport myself upon her hair.
Come now, my hearty, rack your brain
To make a case about your grain.'
'Well, have you done?' replied the ant.
'You enter palaces, I grant,
And for it get right soundly cursed.
Of sacrifices, rich and fat,
Your taste, quite likely, is the first;--
Are they the better off for that?
You enter with the holy train;
So enters many a wretch profane.
On heads of kings and asses you may squat;
Deny your vaunting I will not;
But well such impudence, I know,
Provokes a sometimes fatal blow.
The name in which your vanity delights
Is own'd as well by parasites,
And spies that die by ropes--as you soon will
By famine or by ague-chill,
When Phoebus goes to cheer
The other hemisphere,--
The very time to me most dear.
Not forced abroad to go
Through wind, and rain, and snow,
My summer's work I then enjoy,
And happily my mind employ,
From care by care exempted.
By which this truth I leave to you,
That by two sorts of glory we are tempted,
The false one and the true.
Work waits, time flies; adieu:--
This gabble does not fill
My granary or till.'
Jean de La Fontaine. Translated From French By Elizur Wright 1882.
Form:
Black Love
Black Love is a very darkest hue,
owing to
The absence of iniquitous
or
The complete absorption of throbbing
Black Love is the core within oneself,
The marrow of the hearts and as much as brawn to parade
All agonies laid and vaunted ebullience abundantly
Black Love is worshiping the pyramids of immolate the triumph of greed
And bestows temperance,
adorned in the walls of life
And balancing bits and pieces of sweet and sugar
Black Love is the mother that hold
prayers for deliverance
Much beloving and nurturing all her cubs
O' she lullabied us, she fed us
And her milk is philtres for lives
Black Love is a spoiled, wilful child
He whimpered in his nightmares and
All his vehemence bloomed in her womb
Shadowed in fortified and loved but
Remained a spoiled, wilful child
Black Love is a Lover
Soul yearn
Feet yonder
A glimpse of him
Maybe a little love...
Veterans helping veterans
That’s how the code goes
For there are certain things
Only a fellow veteran knows.
On the local radio news
The newsreader had said
A man was attacked
And been found dead.
He didn't wear specs yet
A pair perched on his nose.
I said good morning to him
Why are you wearing those.
He took them off muttering
From a bloke I killed last night
And before I could react
He was gone out of sight,
Away through the door.
I thought how absurd
I though that I really
Must have misheard.
Checked with Police
Thought it best
But they’d already
Made a valid arrest.
He came back that night
Getting on for quite late,
Said he couldn’t cope
Was going to self immolate,
Could he borrow money to
Fill his empty petrol can,
Just twenty four and a
Four tour Afghan Veteran.
We called the police who
Spared him the Hell
Of locking him up
In a cold Police cell.
Had him sectioned,
Taken into proper care,
Qualified people to
Look after him there.
He’s fully recovered now
With a child and loving wife
Seems to have settled down
To a stable and normal life.
If I see him these days
He doesn’t greet or speak,
Says I betrayed his trust
That long ago fateful week.
I was hurt at first
But pleased we won
For he’s still alive
So good job done.
Veterans helping veterans
That’s how the code goes
For there are certain things
Only a fellow veteran knows
7/17/23
To all I must send my thanks
Again my very best a waste
Took a right, next left and then straight
After seven takes
Only reached level 8
Nearby a metal gate
I felt the hate
To tell it straight
Had to accelerate and elevate
Not just celebrate
From Heaven's Gates
It was unintentional if I fell from grace
Burning up, soon to self immolate
Meanwhile in the dark the devil waits
In such a hellish place
Rulers still aim to keep others in a repressive state
People playing with lives, giving themselves a helping plate
They mess with the threads of fate
Attempting to seperate
The process perpetuates
At nearly the same percentage rate
This vicious cycle is less than great
Ah what a headache
Like being a deadweight
I can't with you, back to the bread chase
The rest can wait
Until the death date
Any time of day
A struggle to find my way
What can I say
Is this what the world does to you or am I to blame?
Can't treat life like it's any kind of game
Scorned and teased
I live among swarms of bees
Nearby enormous trees
It no longer tortures me
From no one I don't need your mercy
It stormed severely
Previously I had some poor theories
Now I can see it all more clearly
Had poor steering and vision was distorted for nearly
Far too long, focus was scrambled so the outcome went accordingly
"love pyres"
after the war
romance became
compulsory
not desultory
twin flames
lit each other
up
love pyres
ashes
falling
Psyche rising
immaculate
immolate
in the aftermath
falling,
silence
sings
lit within
kissed by Eros
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Like Snow on the Beach”/ Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey
https://youtu.be/069MS0nKpbg
"Mastermind" / Taylor Swift
https://youtu.be/EJCMU_RxQBI
"Labyrinth"/ Taylor Swift
https://youtu.be/wGbGEUC6F4s
"Ours is essentially a tragic age,
so we refuse to take it tragically.
The cataclysm has happened,
we are among the ruins,
we start to build up
new little habitats,
to have new little hopes.
It is rather hard work:
there is now no smooth road into the future:
but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles.
We’ve got to live,
no matter how many skies have fallen."
("Lady Chatterley's Lover", D.H. Lawrence)
rapture.
LYRICS/ "Mastermind", Taylor Swift
https://genius.com/Taylor-swift-mastermind-lyrics
Amber was ambivalent
to invite Aaron to her birthday party
His boisterous laughter, luscious dress,
arcane, and above-average flamboyant behavior
would have everyone ignoring him with immolate stares
“Wow! He's weird!”
Bittersweet tactile memories I grew up with
He’s the quintessence of a friend,
Very quiescent at times,
but always has been my intercessor in times of need
or self- immolation for me
He’s perfect, reliable person in my life, my best friend
11/12/2016
- Poetry Contest:Ten word challenge -2
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
1. AMBIVALENT 2. ARCANE 3. BITTERSWEET 4. LUSCIOUS 5. INTERCESSOR 6. QUIESCENT 7. FLAMBOYANT 8 IMMOLATION 9. TACTILE 10. QUINTESSENCE
Pouncing wind of the North, what's the unexplainable folly
for enacting a surly deed?
Stripping my stately pines
of their verdant leaves,
give back their esteem!
Impetuous is your haste,
immutable and imperative,
impairing these sentinels
that guard the feeble ones,
but you immolate and leave!
Pouncing wind of the North, what's your miscreant animosity?
Diminish your implacable rage and wrath;
this grove which abundantly grew,
shouldn't grieve and not feel more dew;
compassionate them and depart!
Disclose your bitterness
before Nature retaliates your fury,
deduce your foolishness and prevent damage;
submit to its wishes and change course,
tomorrow underneath their shade they'll ravish!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew crisci
I walk in the door,
my dog is there to greet me,
wagging his tail furiously
whilst sniffing around my shopping bags
He has that suspicious, perplexed
look on his face ,
one I’ve seen so many times before
I know what he’s thinking:
how the hell do I regularly come home
with a fully cooked chicken in a bag,
Yet he cannot find so much as a stale roadkill
when I bring him for a walk?
I look back at him, incredulous too…
do you really think chickens
just immolate themselves,
then jump cooked
nice and juicy into a bag
for me to pick up along the street?
He’s still anxious and perplexed
as I dole out his share
Imperceptibly, our curiosity
and suspicion of each other evaporate,
as we polish off this beautiful creature
Soon I’m licking my fingers,
and the real miracle happens
when I say,
“Hey Siri! Put the TV on channel 8,”
and on comes the sports news
The dog too is thoroughly engrossed,
licking his — erm — himself.
# precious little words always say more ~ just never in the way we think #