Long Jester Poems
Long Jester Poems. Below are the most popular long Jester by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jester poems by poem length and keyword.
Abu Nuwas
He proclaimed to the caliphate
In the dark hours of the evening
Rejoice! These splendid virgins are a bleeding
Drink our youth, and let not harm come our way
Peace is the brotherhood
Wine and love shall hold sway
Let us rejoice at the gardens and fresh bled flowers
The vineyards and the imams holy ways
Abu, in his boastful poetic fashion
Told the Islamic court,
Let us dance until the stars begin to fade
This is the fashion the universe has made
Embrace the learning’s of our neighbors conquered
The gardens of Babylon
In our drunkenness
Let us de-flower
Rejoice rejoice
For all that we do
We wish no harm on others
To flourish is all that we shall demand
Live with honor as you kiss the maidens hand
Abu held the court as poet and jester
Wine and wisdom invaded his soul
At times prison lay in front, enemies do fester
Freed from his irons
Abu Nuwas wrote poems of love
That lasted forever
Isis is the weed
And not the flower
He moved through the world, a vessel of many lives,
A man whose soul carried centuries inside.
To those who watched, he wore the mask of jester,
A voice that sparked laughter, a comic, a singer.
But in the laughter’s echo, a deeper truth lay,
A mind honed sharp by the dance of the day.
A spirit attuned to the contradictions we bear,
A philosopher’s heart wrapped in humor’s air.
He wore many faces, shifting with ease,
One moment a trickster, the next, a priest.
A master of masks, he wore each with grace,
Understanding that we are not one in this place.
Life, he knew, was a tapestry of disguise,
And wisdom often hides in the most playful guise.
On air, his voice was a force, a friend and a guide,
Speaking to the worker, the dreamer, the tide.
His humor was sharp, a scalpel so light,
Cutting through falsehoods, revealing the night.
He healed with his words, a remedy clear,
For those who laughed to keep sorrow near.
What made him rare was the way he embraced,
Contradictions that time could not erase.
He was playful yet profound, wild yet wise,
Able to mock, yet still see the skies.
His chants carried ancient, forgotten grace,
His jokes held truths we all must face.
A healer of hearts with laughter and song,
His medicine deep, his spirit strong.
When he spoke, or when his voice was near,
One felt the fullness of a life sincere.
His passing left silence, strange and profound,
As though a voice that shaped us was no longer found.
Yet his legacy lives in the words we still share,
In the laughter, the stories, the moments we care.
More than a jest, more than a show,
He was a keeper of memories, a guide to what we know.
A philosopher in disguise, a truth that sings,
A reminder that wisdom wears many wings.
And though he is gone, he remains, still alive,
In the echoes, the lessons, the laughter that survives.
I would like a human jester the tiger king announced.
The rest of the court laughed, and a cousin was pounced.
What would we do with a human? Another cousin said.
“I know!” Yelled his uncle. “We could make him dead!”
The entire court began laughing until the king roared.
“I don’t think it’s funny!” He said as he took out his sword.
The door opened, and a human jester was quietly ushered in.
He trembled as he walked toward them, spittle on his chin.
We will treat you well, the king assured him. Your food will be great.
The other lions were silent, as they pondered the human’s fate.
I don’t know if I can get used to this, the jester promptly said.
“Okay!” Yelled the uncle. “Let’s make this creep dead!”
The tiger king was unhappy, so he chased his cousin away.
I hope you will not hold this against us; I hope you will stay.
The human told some jokes, and he and the king laughed together.
They are usually in the throne room, good friends together.
A child gazed upon a jester, whom appeared to be in distress
"Why do you seem so down, Mr. Clown?" She did request
The clown gasped, for this child could easily see he was depressed
He silently frowned, looking down, and then he scratched at his chest
He took to himself, frantically thinking of a lie to sell
For the clown had a secret that he hid very well
And, he had a vast variety of methods for portrayal
For this clown was exceptionally poetic, though his own books wouldn't sell
Then he realized, that the truth might cause her dismay, somehow
So, he would help this child laugh, until sweat dripped from her brow
So, he told her not of the troublesome day, that had spun his smile around,
And, he simply made up a story called "They are your monkeys now"
And, as he finished the tale, his own expression, you see
Was a look of pure joy! For, he had filled this child with glee!
"Encore! Bravo!" The child cheered and clapped amicably
And, they both continued to laugh together, uncontainably
After a while, they stopped to rest, it seemed the laughing had cleared the air
The clown took a small breath, wiped his brow, and then he declared
"I'm not sad, child. I am fine, smile, and do not stay despaired.
How could I be sad? Seeing your face turn red from my tale, shows that you cared!""
The point of this tale. Try it, and you might be amazed
You can rid yourself of troubles, for just a few days
Your fears, worries, and all your crappy greys
If you ignore the world's negativity, your frown may float away into the haze
Hey good people, here comes the jester
Full of those proverbial beans
Ready to spew out a bunch more silliness
Got a whole lot more in my jeans
I'm sure my dear ole mummy and daddy
Took giggly pills 'fore I was born
It's the reason I became this silly old jester
Right away started tossing out corn
Chuckles became ingrained in yours truly
Even therapy didn't really work
Unfortunately the therapist got afflicted too
By this same old silliness quirk
So come on friends, smile along with me
You'll be amazed at the feeling of joy
The sun will shine brightly every single day
The world will be your brand new toy
© Jack Ellison 2013
COMMON Interests
Kim and I were both taught to be good girls, and we both believe in God and humanity.
We use long poetical rhyming words like insanity, vanity and profanity.
Both of us like the outdoors, and know there are dangerous things like gravel and snakes out there,
Which will jump up and bite our bare feet and bare toesies without a “I’m sorry” or a care.
Our jester-side is actually in charge of the whole family, and maybe the neighbors too.
We are so terrific wearing this hat, that we conduct whole armies, red, gray, orange and blue.
We both enjoy the Beatles – Yellow Submarine, is a favorite of mine, and that’s no fib.
I was a young teenager when they landed in the states, Kim,you heard them in your pink baby crib.
We agree on second, third, and maybe even fifteen chances for people whom we love.
We like imagery that includes billowy clouds, faeries, and a charismatic turtle dove.
We like Dr. Seuss’ Books, especially ‘Horton Hears A Who’ and ‘The Star Belly Sneetches’,
And we would not turn down a free vacation at wonderful South Carolina beaches.
We do our best to comment on other’s poems with genuineness and love, to an entire group.
Our tastes are similar; we love art, music, gardening, animals and especially Poetry Soup.
Key words: good girls, God, rhyming words, jester, Beatles, love, faeries, Dr. Seuss, love, art
Gardening, animals, Poetry Soup
Written: May 1, 2018
You sachet round the aisle
Just to seek an earnest romp
You flash your crooked smile
More of your parasitic pomp
A masher and a cad
You ever prey on their desires
Take everything they had
Then put out their friendly fires
You'll laugh your life away
You're quite the jester, yes it's true
I've just come here today
Saying, the joke my bloke's on you
No one ever calls you friend
Nor will ever recall your name
When you reach the bitter end
You'll know you played a losing game
No mourners will be present
Teary-eyed beside your grave
No tender reminiscent
No fond knick-knacks left to save
Some may find it sad indeed
But, all the same, I find it just
Time to plant another seed
One more idiot in the dust
My heart aches when I look up at the night sky.
I miss my goddess, but she just won't reply.
She knew how I felt inside;
She knew that without her attention, I’d die.
So she took care of me, encouraged me to change
Ready to love the man I’d become.
I failed her.
I could not change, at least not quickly enough for her patience.
Sometimes I wonder if her patience was too timid, too little.
Most times, I blame myself — what if my heart was too brittle,
And her loving, smothering hands unintentionally shattered it to pieces?
What if she cut her long, pale fingers
Trying to piece the shards back together like a jigsaw?
On many a night, the “ifs” torture my mind,
Like maggots that fret constantly on a scabbed wound,
Cruel thoughts that remind me I’ve been a fool.
A goddess cares for her jester.
She cares for those who place her happiness above all else.
She listens to his tales many a time under the lunar sphere,
She tells her court of his japes,
The letters, poems, and songs written for her eyes and hers alone,
Sung for her ears and hers alone,
Transformed into japes:
Instruments of adoration, amusement, and jealousy for her court.
A court of ambitious men, ready to enter through any crevice in her heart.
A court of parasitic women, leeching off her popularity and beauty,
For any association with her is a gift from the gods.
A goddess cares for her jester — but too many japes make her
Apathetic towards him.
Of her inner court, the jester is the first she’d lose.
I was your jester.
I was your fool.
Even now, I’m still a sucker for your remnants.
I refuse to accept my axing from your court.
I eagerly await your visits on my glass screen,
Analyse your statements for subtle clues that you may want me to return.
In doing this, I prove I am a fool.
Have I not matured from the boy I was at school?
Cynthia, Selena, goddess
My heart aches when the lunar sphere illuminates half the world.
Its monochrome rays remind me of my abrupt axing.
I was tossed over your castle walls as I slept,
Forever exiled.
Without warning, cast out.
Perhaps for stirring a storm of feelings in your heart
That you weren’t ready to weather.
If I could hear your thoughts, find closure,
There’s a chance I’d heal better.
THE GREAT PHYSICIAN
the gray sky of a virus, angry
furrowed brows -
scowling,
coughing - not laughing.
what affectation the globe hurling
toward fear.
illness towering, over
the marketplace, toppling
blocks.
Control harangues,
mocks.
who is really pulling the strings?
the jester jingling his fool’s hat,
carrion of a mock scepter -
his feet shuffling us back in time
to the folly of our ways —
“falalalalala,” he sings.
the Great Physician waits for our call
3/2/2020
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as
the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled,
neither let them be afraid. John 14:27 ESV
But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well
have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.
Matthew 9:12 ESV
The spotlight flashes fun on the sagged garb
An animated caricature in comical human figure
With miniature red sun stuck on the porcelain nose
Tramps around the circus pitch making silly jokes.
The nimble body turns in flexed acrobatic moves
Sleight of hands performs the perfect jugglery act
But the labored buffoonery of the fragile jester
Falls flat as peels of stale joke on silent spectators.
Before the neon lights go out in the last show
The slapsticks strip the paint off his sweaty face
Uncovering the trail of tears he has secretly cried
He sings a song on the lyric of his broken heart.
The urn of contained laughter explodes in the gallery
The applause hails Tatters, the grotesque clown of pathos.
_______________
January 6, 2023
Contest : Tatters
Sponsored by : Mystic Rose Rose