Long Implicated Poems
Long Implicated Poems. Below are the most popular long Implicated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Implicated poems by poem length and keyword.
He told the tales with likes and similes
human character dressed as grass and trees
the fragility of life just like a mist
as touched by divine spark like children kissed
He drew attention to earths everlasting beauty
and loving kindnesses as worthy over duty
painted pictures that a child's mind could see
and of the qualities that would last eternity
Those he drew were woman child and man
in parallels explained Gods everlasting plan
a future government by Gods own plan designed
choosing those who like his Son in mind
The currant rulers here described as beast
devour and make suffer great to least
he implicated leaders intentions as the cause
as having violated all of the natural laws
He pointed out the signs to tell the time
how earth and heaven his plans to realign
where peace on earth in every nation he will gain
with truth and everlasting life they will maintain
Surprise a life in heaven was not the plan for man
but he put us on the earth in a garden understand
he intends this projects finish by his Son
with those he has redeemed to be the ones "to get er done"
I must advise you those in the grave are dead
they will remain there until the Son has said
he who has the keys of death has them in mind
to resurrect upon the earth in a future time
While Christendom adopted the ideology of hell
the Teacher of the Truth in sleep of death did tell
he called his friend who was dead and in a grave
forth the example of what his future rule will pave
How can you not get it the things he plans to do
to eliminate on earth suffering and all life renew
oh Shang gri La and Paradise He plans for thee
where Man will live in Love and joy in harmony
AGAIN this is too long to complete the post here please see this link
to complete the reading......
www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=10150880493247492
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
Via Duboff Law Group LLC
Treks of Tracks of the past, current and future, we make
Treks of Tracks of a noted past:
Made mostly in our childhood days
This upon playing childhood games
and implicated in innocent playground escapades
Treks of Tracks of the past, current and future, we make:
Treks of Tracks of a notable past:
These made mostly in our long ago childhood days
This upon playing childhood games
and implicated in innocent playground escapades
Treks of Tracks left on dusty baseball diamond fields
and behind schoolyard scenes
This like those of our first fresh young puppy love endeavor
Then, a graduation to be a high-school novice, neophyte, newcomer, neutered
Treks of Tracks, present:
These present paths are made by repeated foot-falls
that are made one ahead of the other
These are a dusty foot print shown
A Trek of Tracks, that are of good and bad
These are filled with a composite collection, of people,
friends, lovers, comrades hugged, faced, embraced or chased
Treks of Tracks, made and left walking or driving on long roads
Tracks of Tracks, left and placed on many white sandy beaches
Tracks, made frolicking on wet rainy days
Tracks, made in the snow and racing home
Treks of Tracks, of our achievements put out on
full top trophy display
Treks of Tracks, on pen and paper revealing our soul
Treks of Tracks of imprints of events we are making every day
Treks of Tracks, future:
These are to ponder and contemplate then commence
Yet, Treks of Tracks, of our future are already hidden in place:
These are given paths to choose, as a Yes or a No
That it is to take or not to take, this is our future fate
This all eventually will happen with no prolong debate
"These are the Trek of Tracks we make"
It leans, a solitary hue
upon the austere granite,
Neither sown
nor awaiting favour’s grace,
Yet dares the sun
with steadfast, quiet fortitude,
Its petals murmur softly,
without entreaty or trace.
I crouch;
my fingers graze the stone’s cold skin
And sense a tremour, subtle, scarcely known;
A heartbeat threads the rock’s unyielding din,
Its pulse, clandestine,
wrought in the marrow of living stone.
The air tastes of dust
and nectar, tempered, rare;
A tang of memory, faint
and curiously sweet;
I inhale,
my own hands pressed to the enduring earth,
Aligning with warmth the stone has borne
through centuries of sun and heat.
A bee veers past,
its flight an off-kilter ballet,
Its solemn humour
provoking a quiet grin;
The hum unravels silence,
subtle, precise,
And in that interstice,
the world contracts, expands, and thins.
Sunlight slides across petals,
like a sidelong glance,
Not pleading,
merely acknowledging what is shown;
Roots insinuate themselves
through fissures with languid perseverance,
A covenant of patience,
wrought without audience or applause.
Its scent, neither flower nor mineral,
insists upon endurance, unobserved;
It bends to nothing,
yet its insistence resonates,
Leaving me implicated,
unreserved, unredeemed.
I rise,
hands lingering on the warming stone,
The quiver of petals,
small, intimate, insistent;
Existence, fleeting,
absurd yet incandescent,
A bee forgets its song,
and I hesitate, quietly,
holding the impossibility in my chest.
1.
WHAT?
Are we going to enter the ill-fated whirlpool of
Unintelligible madness, and let calamitous folly,
Anchor its obscure ships of destruction in our
Harmonious hearts?
Or
Are we going to follow the discerning star of
Glowing reason and allow lustrous wisdom
Institute its simmering dominion in our
Tormented minds?
2.
Are we going to constantly give fortified shelter to
Detrimental fears and permit fatal pessimism
Establish its depressing presence,
In our serene lives?
Or
Are we going to evict, detrimental dread, from our
Excruciating consciousness and relinquish vivifying
Optimism to enact its invigorating message,
All over our agonizing planet?
3.
Are we going to stand, apathetically still in front of
Virtue’s constant devastation and grant mean vice,
Permission to grow its abominable fruit of injustice
In our loving society?
Or
Are we going to become vigorously implicated in
Rectitude’s resurrection by putting up a gallant fight for
The condemnation of dreary crime,
In our fearful world?
4.
Are we going to let fading belief steadily degenerate our
Blazing ethics and permit sinister infamy, build its
Damnable empire of anarchy, in our
Mystic souls?
Or
Are we going to work, with ever-expanding zeal to
Revive glittering morality by sanctioning compassion and
Regenerating empathy and bringing harmony in
Our damned society?
5.
Are we going to sacrifice illustrious truth on the
Wicked altar of self-interest and endure venomous lie
Undisturbed to flourish in the midst of our
Community?
Or
Are we going to courageously strive against the
Catastrophic falsehood by allowing rapturous
Veracity thrive and blossom within
Ourselves?
6.
Are we going to remain helpless prey of
Mischievous hatred and grand carnivorous war the
Permit to destroy and devour life on
Eternal earth?
Or
Are we going to transform ourselves to
Charitable giants and give birth to everlasting peace and
To ever-enduring love for every fellow
Living being?
7.
If your choice is not the former but the latter, my
Loving friend,
Then
Do not just whisper but ROAR!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
16 December 2020
I wonder:
Who, on earth, has designated PUTIN as the ruler of the world?
Who has given this BARBARIAN the right to rob, rape, and kill?
Who has appointed this DICTATOR as the overlord of humanity?
Who has allowed this SATAN II** to threaten Mankind with obliteration?
Who has put this DEMON in a position to intimidate us, our children, our
Families, and our countries with nuclear annihilation?
The answer to all these questions is this: NO ONE!
We are free men,
God-fearing men,
Children of the All-Mighty, who are inspired by
His love.
Thus
We must never surrender our GOD-GIVEN rights to this PARANOIC individual
Who represents only a few FANATIC citizens of his nation.
For that reason
We should not stand, apathetically still, before this abominable ATHEIST and
Let him devastate our civilization by imposing chaotic anarchy and tyranny.
Therefore,
We ought to become vigorously implicated in peace's resurrection
By putting up a gallant fight so as to defeat this MONSTER and save
Ourselves,
Our children
Our faith
Our society
Our civilization and
Our beautiful planet!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 May 2022
-
*RUSSIA says its 16,000mph hypersonic ‘Satan-2’ missile can fit 12 nuclear warheads and could wipe out any place in the world!
-
**I name Putin SATAN II, having in mind Hitler as Satan I.
-
OF WE AND THEY/EVEN US AND THEM! *
In the beginning
We were the architects
Of God’s designed world;
Then came them—
The devastating forces
Of its Garden Of Eden
Decline:-
We were the flowers
And fruits of the Garden;
Then they became
The slithering and coiling
Slime of disobedience
And disrespect:-
We were chosen
To teach cross bearing
With the Bearer thereof;
Then they—save Mark—
Tried to leave out
Our Simon Of Cyrene hue:-
As you read, my children,
Listen to these 83+ years
Old screaming words:
We must know that ourstory here,
Did not begin with their slavery!
They’re just lyingly implicated this,
In their fecal canvassing
Of their diuretic history:-
While we remain
The crucified oppressed,
And they, the crucifiers,
Realize our Ancestors
Ensured that we would be
Today’s resurrected ones;
Overcoming and ascending,
Memorial total liberation:-
Thus, it be between them
And us, in waning oppression
And waxing liberation;
We ascending the mountaintop,
Not as children of Sisyphus,
But, the ebony-hued of the Liberator:-
the outside floated inside
white seeds seemed fluff
floating & frolicsome
until their rooted relic
of bitter dandelion wine
wished we hurried
to busy our bones
do something thoughtful.
yes..we’d pluck a stem
or two and gift
but this gift in ever after
would list and wither
so quickly amidst
the coiffer of quarrels
pushing of the dander
of matters we stuffed
our pillows with at night
nightmare of nettled
never-never disappears
snow white impurities
implicated our insides
empty and forlorn
forgetting our vows
our impertinence
of the importance
of marital bliss
which doesn’t begin
with tricks and treats
but with travails
that lead to immemorial
memories and progeny
a long lasting kiss
carry your wife
over
the threshold barrier
don’t let complacency enter
let a garden of delights
bloom within
learn from occasional weeds
pluck…let sun in…water
tender your every day kiss
invite in joy and praise
********************************
(I’ve been married 45 years)
The law, they say,
Is the same for everyone
But justice is the prerogative
Of the privileged ones
When the poor get implicated
For crimes they never knew
They run hither and thither
With a begging bowl for justice
But those who commit heinous crimes
Snuggle up to luxuries of life
Without the slightest worry
About the outcome of the case
Justice is blind, they say,
But often times it is tilted
In favour of the elite
And against miserable souls
While the poor knock at every door
To get themselves absolved
The elite bail out with wads of cash
Or resort to intimidation or corruption
The prolonged proceedings
Cast a long shadow
On the fate and fortune
Of the poor and the downtrodden
They are condemned to spend
The rest of their accursed life
With their body in shackles
And their mind in solitary confinement
But those who make the mistake
Of assuming that they could get away
With their atrocities on the poor
May be in for a surprise
The blindfolded lady
With a balance in her hand
May be confused
By the outcome of the case
But make no mistake
Karma is bound to boomerang
And punish the criminals
By dispensing poetic justice
Why are we - the great creation causing so much devastation,
The intimidated nature of an implicated nation,
See we’re evolving as a planet but together didn’t plan it so rather than unite it’s like we feel compelled to fight.
Our fixes are shortsighted for a world that’s been so blighted,
Is anyone concerned that we never seem to learn.
We call this a democracy which really means hypocrisy of a convoluted prophecy which is actually bureaucracy,
The masses keep on moving always scared of what their losing ,
Thinking that they’re choosing when In fact they’re just abusing.
Have we triggered our demise, can you hear the planet cry,
No point looking to the sky your better covering your eyes.
Should we not try to transition from our terminal condition,
What’s the point of this admission if we’ve lost sight of ambition.
I paused—not choice,
for bodies sometimes still,
Before the mind invents a reasoned cause;
The enclosure breathed, obeying its own will,
Its timbers dark with sleep’s residual laws.
My hand received this fact, unbidden, cold,
Somewhere a weight shifted, not yet heard;
A glance prolonged, a shrug half-shy, half-bold,
The breath misplaced between two failing words.
It seemed exact to count the lives I named,
Not tenderly, but as one counts small change;
A moment held as if the world had framed
A lease, while meaning slithered out of range.
I miscounted—always do, the error keeps
Its quiet economy, its stubborn claim;
The heart retains a glance that lingers, sleeps,
A touch not asked, a warmth without a name.
We speak of belonging when we mean
This has not yet departed, still it clings;
The tongue crowns what dwells, though never seen,
Mistaking presence for the flight of wings.
I came with that old ache, inherited,
Not chosen—bone and breath alike conspire;
To call a hand, a voice, a hearth, my bed,
And heat the interval with own desire.
Family.
Friend.
Love.
Words held their place,
Until the shifting light dissolved their claim;
Not treachery, but nature’s quiet grace,
That alters pattern while the frame stays same.
This life is not a home, but transient fire,
A canvas lit for those who pause awhile;
We share the heat, exchange the glance, the mire,
Then shoulder packs and walk another mile.
I thought the peg might root the earth, remain;
That dawn would pause, if asked, to hold its line;
It does not; yet the folly leaves no stain,
And still the moment presses, sharp, divine.
Change is exact; it finishes its task;
It needs no malice, no apology;
The hands withdraw, the truths themselves unmask,
And leave me here, implicated, free.
And now—between retreat
and memory’s claim,
I want what cannot stay, cannot exist;
Unsure if love erred—or if nearness came
To teach me loss by way of what I missed.