Long Lairs Poems
Long Lairs Poems. Below are the most popular long Lairs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lairs poems by poem length and keyword.
My soul is alive in giving!
My heart quenched through sharing!
I often questioned why or
when this all decided and
the prayers that confided?
How did life, through love
me bring. Hear,
outside the gates of paradise,
my talents
my thoughts
my desires
my works
my words
granted this Divine Blessing.
Rejoicing!
I remember continuous tears…
I remember ceaseless asking…
I remember countless prayers…
all for this.
For loving moments.
For grace.
For mercy.
For dreams fulfilled.
For wealth.
To be conduit of Good.
To be washed.
To be cleansed.
To be prepared.
To be shaped in Love’s Image.
And, die in Peace.
the cost?
Not until my soul was naked:
Shameless
Secrets told
Darkest deeds sold
Scared
Fearful
Repentant
Angst Augmented!
(I had to plough forth.
I had to work hard.
I had to shed myself. Off
the garments and out of the lairs of Hades
until I was an unembellished child): before
My Master - Only then did He take my hand and Wrote…
in that moment of treasured tranquillity…
words, thoughts, purpose, meaning, wisdom
shared by grace through mercy for me, this shattered soul.
Yes, my forgiving only I can tell.
My sins, ever before me. Yes, ever
with the knowing of what this means:
To be truly free;
To truly live;
To truly walk in the light of
one’s own choosing.
Leaps of faith and deep confessing.
Generation upon generational wrongs
like those songs,
laced with Surrender
laced with Imploring
laced with Nagging
laced with Sorrow –
Established, lest cries of Angels plead:
“God permit!”
Me,
philanthropist
poet
writer
producer
Touched by you:
I honour your space and your purpose in time.
I tread on petals when it’s your stint to slumber.
I herald your great deeds, for life does seed life.
I will embrace you in light, in laughter and in Love.
When you ask, I will forgive even if it be that
my human heart cries, the cries of babies gone soon.
I will help when you ask, even if just through prayer.
I will show you that I care, the best way I know:
“The Almighty bless you in Jesus Name. Amen.”
Fellow men,
women and children of this earth
All creatures created divinely -
I ask in Jesus Name that you love my work and sharing
in spite of this hand that holds the pen.
There’s something ornately comforting, in a downpour of a day’s healthy rain
So replenishing, cleansing, as renewing, the ultimate giver to feed life’s grain
As standing undercover feeling the smaller flecks of the rain against your skin
With the thrashing of rain against the window panes, creating a deafening din
Each drop, creating rivulets that chase each other down, onto the window sill
There pausing, but, for a second in pools before they take their final overspill
God’s creatures sensing mother’s nature ungodly call find refuge in their lairs
Others finding cover from the torrents of rain that caught them, so unawares
Birds tuck their heads away, wait on the downpour of rain to end, its final fall
In this time just birds of silence, you seldom hear them making their bird call
Within the marble halls of mansions, walls glisten with dancing shades of hue
Gun dogs put out of work lie waiting for their prize, there’s nowt’ they can do
Children sit upon window seats watching as the rivulets fall upon each a wish
Their little fingers pressed upon the window pane giving each rivulet a squish
But; nothing can prevent nature’s raindrops falling, so they just watch in awe
Cats on their hind legs each trying to catch the rivulets drops with their paws
There is more than a sense of security, in this day’s healthy downpour of rain
Mother makes hot cups of juice, just in case, from a cold, we all need to feign
Grandfather sits very staunchly before the fire in his armchair made so grand
A tot of whiskey just for good measure, for medical purposes you understand
While dear Grandma is knitting away, totally in tune to the rhythm of the rain
In the hallway standing there idle rests father’s ebony and ivory walking cane
Who has now took himself into his study, sits to reminisce and to have a cigar
It saved just for such a day resting in its lacquered pigmented box of cinnabar
Cooks busy themselves in the kitchen making all the family their evening meal
Steam rising from the cooking onto the windows panes, does the rain conceal
Until the steam itself creates rivulets of their own, and the outside is revealed
In doing so, makes the clarity of the day’s rain even more so magically surreal
SNIPER
A yell “ man down;” then zing, pock, pock,
pock, pock against the sandbag revetment.
Down on the plain is a man in a spider hole,
he is well hidden and armed well enough,
smokeless powder provides no clues.
Binoculars and spotter scopes range and scan.
The wounded soldier moves arms weakly,
asking for help, hands exploring a bloody chest;
each attempt to get to him more whizzes and
pocks follow the movement of desperate men.
Zings and pock, pock, pock of sand bags hit,
in the distance a light echo of a rifle report,
a light pop reverberating from every where.
81-mm mortars inside the defensive perimeter
fire volleys of patterns mushrooming dust,
some air bursts for downward shrapnel,
these metal fragments might penetrate shelter.
The dust cloud shields medics and helpers
dragging this first victim to relative safety;
the dust-off flight already hurrying inbound.
Soon APCs roar by, their armour impervious,
tracks clanking the treads tearing ground;
carrier troops dismount and walk searching
investigating odd bits of clumps and weeds.
Nothings found he is too well hidden,
how did he ever dig in under watchful eyes,
how did he hide the signs of digging.
Now everyone moves about with this new worry
each movement cautious with little exposure;
careless soldiers leave trails of pocked sand bags,
one fellow gets ripped along his flack jacket,
too close a strike earning an unwanted souvenir.
Mortars continue to pound patterns on open ground,
this all to find a veritable chaffing grain of sand,
a grain that throws an inconvenient hail of bullets.
Our snipers and spotters set their own lairs;
hunting scopes by day starlight scopes at night.
The days are long as this deadly duel continues,
nerves are sensitised, some are shattered;
each move brings a buzz or whiz of near death.
Then there are no more shots, no more shooter,
perhaps the mortars got him or the gun ships,
perhaps he earned the NVA version of R & R.
Still every one walks, heads hunched, hair on end,
one sniper with a few dozen well place bullets
keeps one company sized position neutralised;
a good example showing us the fine art of war.
I do not know how men many we were
or how we went, what we saw on the way
nor do I know for what ungodly purport was ours
or what goaded us on into deeper uncharted territory
despite our tortured souls and aching bodies protesting to refrain .
I vaguely recollect through my befogged mind
some arcane words like Shoggoth and Mi- go and Dagon,
so much gibberish and blubbering babble of deranged minds
gone at once numb and addled with sights and sounds
forbidden to man in his wildest dreams and thoughts.
Through crenellated valleys grey misted in their troughs
and crests and covered with slime or ooze as from some
white-wormed denizens from unnamed and should-not-be-named
lairs in regions in deep damp grottoes of infernal charnel mounds
did I and my ill-fated team wander wild-eyed and unkempt.
Do not ask me what we saw when we reached our goal
for what my skulled orbs beheld or what my brain deciphered
I know nor remember not all semblance of sense and sensibilities
having fled with a volition not my own but driven by transfusions
of thought telepathically imposed from without from the miasma.
I know not whether to thank those who found me in the sorry state
that they did - a blathering caricature of the human form more ape,
nay, an ape has more intellect and dignity, than man- a creature more
fit to dwell in the mire and morass of a cess-pit than tread the same
hallowed soil or breathe the self-same vapors as civilized man.
It was far better still that the group of kindly souls, most rightfully,
had left me to my own contrivances and let me wander in my unknown
quest for unknown and mysterious things best known to myself once
but now lost to me forever.
I find myself in these padded and strait-jacketedand dreary halls of Arkham
standing at the edge of the precipice of an insurmountable mountain with
an abyss at the foot, both of interminable depth and dark as the devil's heart.
I have leaped from this vertiginous height perhaps a dozen times to end my misery
but having felt all the terror and thrill of finding absolution, I find myself here again,
and again.
Once,
About ten minutes ago in the year
2006 or
2549, depending upon which avatar or
Messiah is consulted, I
Tumbled out of my bed to the
Untranslatable
Predawn
Cackle of
Frantic voices
Descending.
So, with urgency
Rarely experienced since the
Evacuation of my spirit
From the Land of
Possession Addiction, I was called to summon previously
Unknown prowess
Chancing traffic choked streets
Of Nakhorn (used to mean “New City” 700 years ago but not sure now)
Chiang Mai.
So there I was
Aboard my mostly pint-sized for a European descendent Kawasaki 112,
Red-blooded American head
Protruding
turret-like out of an
Undersized helmet that,
If nothing else,
Officially pronounced me foreign
Blazing a jutted path around
Decrepit trishaws,
Ubiquitously red baht busses and,
Not the least, a motorcycle with a sidecar bandaged to its
Aching side just in time to witness a
Spit-shined just out of the wrapper BMW
Brusque aside a
Sardine packed dump truck
Loaded,
Not with dirt, but five dollar a day
Laborers.
All this and more
Just moments before
Mounting the silted Ping and
Stampeding city gates, I glimpsed
Censored Snippets of TV reports blurting something unintelligible like
“Bangkok coup”,
“Corruption”,
“A King”
And
Somewhere,
Quite uncensored, of a not so pleased
Laozi,
Lotus splayed in
Meditation
Kneading the Eastern soil one
Daoist grain at a time,
Before ancient city walls
Rose up,
Monolithic in my path.
And then the recall that
Centuries before,
Burmese raiders
Resplendent in warrior garb
Plundered the palace and soul
Of the kingdom Thai before stealthily
Creeping back to their lairs,
Buddha-fat with riches.
That leaves the Siamese of 1935
And me, to wonder
Where is freedom
When we travel so far
Pell mell and
Peril, only to discover
In a fleeting brief moment the road to
Iniquity marked, rather
Erroneously, with the signpost to
Promises?
zealotry yawping within un
pretentious sporty, quirky,
oddly, manly, kooky, impisly, gummy,
edgy, dorky, cocky, belly airs
to disseminate, a quick
literary flourishing brushstroke
no on nest to dog lie 'n, tie gears
(tigers) boot this chap bears,
who copped, dropped,
plopped out of college devoid of any careers,
and wandered the globe after
searching classifieds for reign leaderless deers
this buck rogers wannabe could be doe ting,
and assist sleigh get off the ground
on account of his Dumbo ears,
despite abomination, hesitation, and trepidation
to push comfort zone and exposure therapy skyward
in order to over nervousness about being in high places
plus countless other fears,
and an extreme intervention measure considered,
would be brain transplanat with that of another,
whose mental cogs and gears
and a canine like audibility acute as a hares
means to sprint at light speed if senses
being caught in the cross hairs of a gun barrel,
whose fate doomed demise almost insnares,
yet PETA type person would loathe any jeers
if any animal alluded to characterized
heading toward harm
and in reality, this heir,
who favors knitwears
with pink frilly (“I HATE BOYS”) panties,
would put his measly life on the line,
cuz aye believe every creature own right to live,
whether they dwell in damn trees or underground lairs,
oh..., or kept in stable condition
of ca horse hi mean mares
a barn strewn with hay during the day
to fend off pitch black ominous sounds
Equus ferus caballus (Hardy
as a mountain Laurel),
but quite susceptible to nightmares
thus some veteranarians strongly suggest
cloth eye elastic lined ocular shades,
but please make sure Mister Ed,
or his ilk doth newt overhears.
Form:
Let’s pester Uncle Fester
After dafter Luxon
Pushed the button
Welcomed every glutton
To the isles of mutton
Theme of the meme
Team New Zealand
It does seem
No longer a
Stronger eclectic sceptic
Spanked by the rank
Septic tank stream
Peptic Pyramid scheme
Grand slam.. glam sham scam
Desperate Dan or Tangerine tan plan
God damn..American dream
Our rancour on social media
Danker seedier leaders crimes
Hanker for every greedier
Rhymes with banker
Sleazier golden geezer visas
Accept any offers to
Fill their many coffers
Brokery.. jiggery pokery
Immunity without impunity
To the unity of community
Profanity of their vanity
Insanity of their depravity
Clarity...disparity not charity
Tramples ample wokery
Our amazing landscape
Instead becomes their escape
Coined..after all they’ve purloined
Jolly jape…no red tape
Not being rash
But it is a rash
Debunk the gunk & funk
Forsaking the avarice
Taking the pis*
Bliss abyss monk
Crass..brash..flash git
S***k a chunk of cash
From their balderdash stash
Making..a complete hash of it
Fake elite on the take
As they see fit
Billionaire boys ploys annoys
Replete yet still cheat
Have your cake and eat it
Our government just envoys
For a small fee..sweet
Deploys the swanky..w**ky
Yankee all about me
Time to flee plea
They lit the fire
Liar & denier
Dug the quagmire
Piety for impropriety
Moolah Messiah ruler
High flyer pariah
Crueler society
Who when the s**t
Does hit the fan
No fibs..his nibs gets
First dibs on cribs
Outlier masterplan zen..know
Then where to go
Can always hunker down
In a spick & span den
Their Queenstown bunker
Amen
Ephesians 4:27 admonishes all believers in Jesus Christ, not to give a place to the devil. As a direct result of our anger because when we lose control of our own emotions, the devil has won a victory! The devil is a thief who comes only to rob steal kill and destroy us. If we give the devil even one inch or one meter, he will take a whole mile from us.
The devil comes to steal our joy our peace and our fellowship with Jesus Christ and fellow believers. The devil comes to kill us. He knows full well he cannot destroy our spirit. Because he cannot rob us of our everlasting life! But he can kill our minds and destroy our souls during this life only!
The devil comes to destroy us he can destroy our families, our homes, neighborhoods for example. The human family is what God has based the foundation of human society. Some of his worse assaults has been to destroy the family units. Usually he accomplishes it via absentee fathers and/or mothers.
The devil is the world's greatest lairs of all times. He is murderer from the beginning of time and a liar. He hates God, His Holy Angels, His Heavenly and His Earthly Saints! By destroying God's created beings, he can strike back at His own Creator! He was a usurper who wanted to kick God off of His throne and take His place! He lead one third of his angels against God!
He was the snake in the Garden of Eden who deceived Eve. And who caused Adam to also sin against God! Adam and Eve were forgiven. Why because sin already existed! However, God cannot forgive Satan, because sin originated through him alone. Neither can He forgive his fallen angles or demonic spirits! Resist the devil and he shall flee from you! Bound, the strong man, the devil himself!
In Jesus Christ's Holy Name!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
February 18, 2021
Once upon a time
There was a boy named Gift
The young lad had beautiful things
Gifts beyond his wildest imagination,
so he dreamed about reaching the cosmic
Seeing stars and invading planets,
Conquering beings that dwell in those habitats,
Shipped himself, mind full of goods
Moving from F to A
To be in line with his ambitions,
Born in the month of July, a cancer sign
The boy got emotions,
So he built a machine that will transform
himself into an unstoppable being,
Journeying, in search of the one,
I guess the lad never knew he had it all,
The love given by girl called love
So he stood tall and set sail
from the southern to the northern hemispheres,
Gift wanted to fly so he could deliver presents across the sky,
The boy had fantasies,
Dark and twisted to the fellas that never understood him,
Created by elf's deep in the frosty lairs,
In Santa's system
That's the old lad who gives instructions,
His mission is to satisfy all the children ,
Nobody knows this plan but the sand man,
So he created that Gift,
But the sandman had already sprinkled sand
across the children's eyes so they all went to sleep,
Gift, the only one to envision his dreams,
stuck on ice frozen cold,
To Witnessing light,
Being Saved by seven reindeers
the young lad flying, dressed in red,
Blasting across the heavens
The awakened being, the gifted kid,
Levitating, so he flied
Gliding through the night
Dodging every obstacles set for him,
In search of awakened children but finding known,
Lonely, seeing everything with his naked eyes, asking why?
Wondering if his the only one,
So he came up with a strategy
Drawing up possibilities if anyone could decode it,
that would be greatest
Till this day he hopes of waking up the children.
I used to be like hulk
Rage was my power,
Until i smoked weed
That strong green,
So i sit in peace
Like i could rest in peace,
The black out after the crash
To the lame act i pulled just seem normal
And that's cool, cause its not you
So i shape shifted back,
The difference between me and you
Its all in the eye, how we see
The different sides we in
The angles of this cube,
You know the domain.
So i reprogrammed it just to suit my needs,
Altering the state,
so i could regulate the laws on the mass
so i see and i wear shades,
The world to bright
So that's right?
Chameleon skin,
changing colour to blend with the environment I'm in,
Finders keepers! to the soulless being who found my lost soul
Forgiveness to the monster who stole my ego,
Oh boy!..... i lost everything
But forgetting that it's all my mind
The deep state im in,
The cold room just beneath the ceiling
So i let demons in,
Midnight partying.........
The scene is set with knives and strange devices,
Slow repetition of unknown voices
Intoning with low frequencies
Hearing demons and they whispering ,
"This is gonna be fun"
While the others are stripping me down,
And poking my skin with knives
This was just a tickle to me,
The demons gaze and wonder like what gives,
i replied only Gift!
The house i was in,
turned into a torturing chamber so i couldn't leave,
MUHAHAHA ............
They laugh "you aren't the only one full of surprises"
That's when i came to the point of realization,
That Santa can't be good
Working with elf's and manufacturing gifts deep in the frosty lairs,
The irony behind this scene
To me facing the ceiling,
Frozen cold,
Just imagine the fear I'm feeling!