Long Khan Poems
Long Khan Poems. Below are the most popular long Khan by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Khan poems by poem length and keyword.
A beacon of strength, my mother dear,
Always by my side, always near;
A leader and guide, that's what she's been,
In all of life's journey, through thick and thin.
Her adventures have taken her far,
On boats and planes, to distant shores;
A woman of sacrifice, dauntless and strong,
Her love and care, a fire that burns long.
In the coldest of nights, she keeps me warm,
Her love molds mountains, reshapes every form;
She held my tiny fingers with tender care,
Guiding me through life, always there.
From the pain of childbirth, she bore me,
A mountain of strength, none could foresee;
Her shadow follows me, shining bright,
She's the only one I've known, day and night.
She lit my path, when I couldn't walk,
Supported me, through every block;
Fought for me, even when I was wrong,
A mother's love, forever strong.
Once there were two souls,
Who loved each other, their love was a boon,
She was devout, with a heart pure and true,
Establishing her prayers, five times a day, though.
But he, a hypocrite, his love was a lie,
Their love was tested, as time went by,
Misunderstandings arose, and they parted ways,
Leaving her heart broken, in a daze.
But time passed, and his heart changed,
Attracted to Allah, his spirit was rearranged,
She with enthusiasm, tried to reach out to him,
But he refused, for it was not within.
He blessed her with prayers, and gratitude,
For she was the one who changed his attitude,
He thanked her for showing him the way,
To connect with Allah, and to pray.
With a heart full of grace and a soul full of light,
She shone like a beacon in the darkest of night.
Her devotion to Allah, a guiding star,
A shining example of who we should all be, thus far
A POETESS’ MURDERED LIFE
This is for Renee Nicole Macklin Good!
-Poets of the World
The gunshots of ICE (Trump's anti-immigrant serial killers)
Rumble in the air of Minneapolis, Minnesota (USA)
Filling people with panic, terror, and fear.
They have witnessed the death
Of a precious poet, a writer, wife, mother, and aspiring guitarist.
Winner of the prestigious award from
The Academy of American Poets for her poem titled:
"On Learning to Dissect Pig Fetuses"
She died from two precise shots.
Death that the mad evangelical
Criminal and fascist Capitol Hill man
Applauds with the hands of all his henchmen
Who venerate and worship his wealthy cock
With two balls that he wants to resemble, no doubt
Those of the Mongol warrior
And conqueror Genghis Khan
Who unified the nomadic tribes
Of this ethnic group from northern Asia
Founder and first Great Khan of the Mongol Empire
Whose Nicole’s death the republicans applaud and cheer
Swallowing all the lies they tell about her death.
Perhaps because she was a woman and a poetess
A fighter for the dignity and freedom of her community
The madman of the Capitol Hill has raised his neck
To take part, without being present
Dancing his “dance of the disabled”
For the death of an innocent, beautiful woman
A defender of human rights.
The “madman of the Capitol Hill” is afraid
Because he thinks that
She and her people will take away his empire
Leaving him dethroned and a mere pittance.
Perhaps, also, because of her extraordinary poem
Awarded in its day well deserved
That the whole country now recites
And will recite forever
Remembering her
So that the poem and she
Will not fall into oblivion.
Now, this madman in the Capitol
Deafening the ears of the people
With: War! War! Or: Peace! Peace!
Death to immigrants and adversaries!
He won't light a candle
On the makeshift altar dedicated to her
But instead wants to march to Greenland
To screw over the Vikings or whoever
By dropping the atomic bomb on them
Or buying their rare earth elements
With money acquired through slavery
As he himself boasts
Dancing his repeated dance of a disabled person
Which, like a dense fog
Dispels his murderous and criminal eyes.
Alien eyes gaze from a crystal mist of white,
Beckoning, encompassing, consuming your light.
You're now helplessly suspended in wingless flight,
So, don't look for an exit...there's no exit in sight!
They amble and ramble, then they scramble your mind,
The past becomes present, as you'll presently find.
Once you're prodded and poked, then you're poked from behind,
And all of you thought that...Genghis Khan was unkind!
Then you find yourself back, right back where you started,
You've been prodded and poked, then neatly discarded.
Your mind has been snapped cuz, your brain's been bombarded,
White-eyed and caged with the...mentally departed!
They whisk off to D.C., what else could be sweeter,
"We can't "Peter" around, our ship's on the meter!"
"We just heard that your "Boss," 'snot much of a reader,"
"I can't read either Jack!"..."TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER!"
Poetry saved my soul
It was accidentally on purpose
I fell into it, and stayed seated
The teacher highly discouraged me
It was a graduate level course
He assured me I would flunk
And I did.
I loved it though
This course was the only course
I had taken all semester that I loved
In particular I loved Kublai Khan
And Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Both written by Samuel T Coleridge
Who with his best friend founded
The Romantic Movement in England.
Although he died in 1834,
I loved his words for they soothed me.
The sound of the teacher reading Coleridge’s words
Helped me get through my mandatory classes
Which were not soothing or interesting
I received my F, and gladly, for this class
With Coleridge’s word saved my life, and
Made graduation a possibility – making
The other classes palatable.
Mowgli wanted all of the animals to get together and be friends.
He enlisted the help of Bagheera, who said they would have to make amends.
Baloo was ready, for he has the easy, generous heart of a happy bear.
Now how to get all of the animals to agree and get there?
Let’s play some Bob Marley, Bagheera suggested. A terrific idea!
With that kind of music, they could even get the pygmy hog Leah.
Kaa was one of the first to arrive, and began to dance off his pants.
Watch it! a tweedle bug said. You are stepping on African plants!
There was some discussion now about whether Shere Khan could come.
Come on! Mowgli urged! That sour sarcastic striped guy needs some fun!
So they sent out the invite, and out of the forest he came with a roar.
Pretty soon he was dancing his stripes off, without any tasting or gore.
Bob Marley’s reggae chilled the entire jungle out that day and the next.
We all discussed it, tasting Haki juice which made some of us vext.
Was Shere Khan really here? I asked a pygmy hog nearby.
Who cares? He grunted, running off with the last pumpkin pie.
The world is a vast and wondrous place,
Full of sights and sounds to fill the eye.
But no matter where I roam or race,
My heart belongs to you and cannot die.
From mountain tops to ocean depths,
I feel your presence in all I see.
In every flower, every mountain step,
Your love is with me, constant and free.
But should you choose to turn away,
To leave our love behind and wander free,
I'll let you go, though it will slay
My heart to see you leave, just let me be.
For in your absence, I will find
The strength to love again, to start anew.
But know that in this heart of mine,
A special place will always be reserved for you.
BTC (Basic Transaction Cumulation)
A Conceptual Relationship Readiness Theory
Discovered & Conceptualized by:
Er. Haider Khan
(Real Name: Mohammad Shafi Khan)
Author | Thinker | Kashmir
?
Introduction
BTC (Basic Transaction Cumulation) is a newly conceptualized idea that explains emotional readiness before entering a new relationship or marriage, especially after a long-term breakup.
Just as banks review transaction history before approving a new account, BTC studies the emotional transaction record of a person before they begin a new emotional commitment.
This concept was discovered and defined by Er. Haider Khan (Mohammad Shafi Khan) as a way to understand why some relationships succeed quickly while others fail despite strong feelings.
Xanadu, a replica of paradise
A place of opulence and regalia
rivaling god’s wonderments on earth,
The very citadel of pomp and pageantry
Befitting the king of kings
The khan of all khans!
A palace showcasing
his immense power and
extent of his conquest.
A place of pleasure and finesse
a place of magnificence and beauty
a place to indulge in wildest whims
and personal quest to narcissism.
Is Xanadu a mythical place in Mongolia?
Or, a legendary palace built with
a giant dome to indulge
Kublai Khan’s every fantasy?!
~04/30/23
~Contest: Writing Challenge 'X' Words
~Sponsor: Constance La France
Trixie Light Wing, the lovely, lithe,16-year-old light-worker faerie,
was the first one awake in the prairie on this fine Spring morn.
She effortlessly dusted the grasses, the dandelions, the daffodils,
and the pink hydrangeas with pixie dust called Big Pix.
She had come by the Pixie Dust legitimately, because it had
been presented to her as a gift, for being a sixteenth-born.
Named Trixie Light Wing by the Pixies, the light-worker faerie,
lived up to her name, because she was an expert of tricks.
The dragons were still asleep in their cave when she liberally
dusted their front knocker with the Big Pix.
She knew it would be easier to do it now and ask for forgiveness,
than ask permission and be told “no”.
The dragons were known for their inability to see
another side of the story or even flex their own a bit.
Trixie felt jubilant that she had gotten past their door
without waking even the sweet and cute
2-seasons-old baby dragon, Little Joe.
The Flitzwillies were the first magical creatures
to wake up as were the rest of the Light-Workers, Tee and Bee.
Tee was an avid admirer of Trixie; she wanted to be like Trixie,
she wanted to act like Trixie, Big Bad Tee.
Bee was not so much an admirer, a light-worker with
a lone wolf type attitude, one in this prairie we rarely see.
Bee would have liked to stay in the dark cave and play
Video games all day long, rather than be friends to the Mee.
The Mee is what we call our cooperative made up of faeries,
dragons, and flitzwillies. I am one of them too.
My name is Khan, pronounced CAN, and I can do a lot of things
other mythical creatures are not allowed to do.
Probably because I am the princess, and my Mommy,
the queen, helps to make all the rules for the Mee.
Daddy doesn’t dare cross her, or she will add another
rule for him, and he already has thirty-three.
I decided to pull out all the stops today,
and play a trick on Trixie before she
Could play a trick on me.
Disguised as a little baby unicorn, I watched her
feed me an apple, and began to
Talk about how pretty I would be.
When I shape shifted back to myself, we laughed and
Laughed at my trick at her expense.
Then she pointed out that we could ride on
A Tilt-a-Whirl for only a sixpence.
And so we did.