Long Last stand Poems
Long Last stand Poems. Below are the most popular long Last stand by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Last stand poems by poem length and keyword.
As the final child of the catacombs fell
your plastic knife driven into their heart
as they evaporated into the wind
you didn’t stop.
you kept searching desperately for a new toy.
someone to slice
someone whose fragments you could scatter in the dying breeze
but nobody came.
As the ruins-keeper fell
laughing maniacally as your eyes hardened and hers faded away
you thought you were finished
but it was only the beginning.
as you continued onward
you wondered if anyone had missed out on your justice
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
but nobody came.
As the guardian of the frozen wasteland reached out to you
mercy flowed from his soul
but it bounced off of yours
and into oblivion.
as your fist hit his neck
there was no going back.
walking through the empty streets of a desolate town
you wondered where everyone was hiding
cowering in fear
all because of you.
you wondered if you could break down their doors and take their lives with it
but nobody came.
As the heroine made her last stand
and melted away into nothingness
the world’s last hope was gone
and the survivors burrowed away.
unreachable.
hidden away in a place of monstrosity
you pondered how to draw them out
so you could slaughter them like the demons they are.
but nobody came.
As the final star burst
leaving behind nothing but burned out embers
you prepared for the end.
Curious as to what would happen
when none were left.
as you walked through the abandoned city
gazing upon your final destination
you contemplated a world
where nobody would remember you
like you never existed at all
but nobody came.
As the fallen prince told his tale
of how he had cried out
for mother
for father
and when nothing happened
he cried out
for anyone to save him.
but nobody came.
As bones crumbled to soot
your soul had become ice.
your violence
your hate
you were scarred
and when they appeared
the demon who comes when people call its name
you took their hand
and the world was gone.
a blank void
just you.
your soul.
and them.
and as you realized your mistake
you called for anyone to pull you away from your wrongdoings
to save you from your crimes.
but nobody came.
This poem was adapted into a youtube video! Check it out at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8JO8TwlmcE or https://bit.ly/3li8roI
THE LAST STAND
Where have all my people gone, the Navaho, Lakota, and the Sue,
Smothered beneath the white man's blanket,
Chocking for a breath of airs life's sustaining oxygen.
The beating heart of native drums, are stilled frozen,
In the middle of it's rhythmic thumping, no pulses echo,
Can be heard on the open plain.
The weeping women kneel on sacred ground, shedding
A river of bloods tears, burning a permanent scare across,
A baron landscape.
Death's black raven shields itself, under it's crimson soaked wing,
Against shames immoral injustice.
Greed's insatiable hunger for land and riches fuels lusts desire,
Behold exterminations holocaust of the native inhabitants,
Nothing remains alive except ignorance blackened shadow.
How much blood can mother earth be forced to drink before,
She drowns herself or spits up everything undigested,
With sheer disdain and hatreds malice intent.
On a black and white chess board the winners takes it all,
Strategies grand masters playing with living pawns.
Treaties written in vanishing ink, promises disappear in thin air,
Revealing a liars sharpened tongue.
The odds have always been stacked against those believing in fairness.
A rogue tidal wave of humanity has wiped out a nation,
And it's culture within the blink of an eye.
Flights appendages are clipped on the dove of peace, leaving it
Unable to soar above it's own habitat.
Wreckage’s refugees stumble in the ruins after math,
Rapes victims of civilizations civilized,
Are left devoid of their heritages lineage and legacy.
Elders chieftains representatives of a great nation,
Smoke peace pipes in the white mans hunting lodge
In Washington.
As human beings are hauled like cattle's cargo,
Taken to reservations burial grounds.
Ancient ancestors lit up the heaven's vast expanse,
By torches flame,
To guide the souls of the dead unto their great spiritual
Plain beyond.
The pale horse gallops forward without a rider,
And the red people become a phantom tribe vanishing
Upon the winds shifting tides.
Giving one last final tribal battle war cry,
Why my father but the great spirit answers not.
Behold America's legacy, a world trampled beneath
It's heavy iron fist, all in the name of progress or for the cause
Of Manifest destiny.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
While I struggle to understand
the battles, the wars
unending shadows weep
for the moments
just before duty called
you to the front lines,
where you would meet
the last encounter
with courage that I could never imagine,
valor, gallantry, boldness
fearless as the weeping shadow
my heart aches from the knowing
you were young and innocent, fallen
now a soldier beneath the ground
where silent memories can’t disturb
the freedom found, the freedom bought
by your last stand
grief whispers, melting
away all the passing dreams
where you once felt reassured
by the promise of years
years you didn’t have, because time
left you alone with the battle,
alone in a war with timeless
shadows, fallen soldiers
lost wars, wars that mean
we can breathe free, be free
in the way we believe
the way we see – our hearts sing
because you gave us wings
as you flew away, an angel now
an angel gone from this lonely silence
leaving the war, the moment
quietly – as we cry
remembering, what you have done
oh my, you have gone
but what you have done
defines my life, offers liberties
I would never have known,
gracefully, you stood, alone
fought that battle
so I might know
freedom is mine,
but oh, my – NO
freedom isn’t free –
but how she calls to me!
Thank you, soldier
for paying the price for me
Thank you, warrior
for fighting the battle for me
without you,
I wouldn’t know the peace
that comes from living a life
freely, free as free can be
free because you paid the highest price
you gave your life so that I might be
FREE
John 15:13-17
King James Version
13 Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
14 Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.
15 Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you.
16 Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you.
17 These things I command you, that ye love one another.
From the cradle, I leaned left before I could even talk,
Tossing my applesauce leftward before I could walk.
I marched in every protest before I turned thirteen,
When I wasn't red, then I was green.
In college, I joined the DSA, they told me beliefs to hide
They said wave the rainbow, I'd lead the nation, with pride
They handed me the program, the social solution
To create eternal justice, a necessary revolution.
First, spend like a sailor who's drunk in a storm
Then crush every energy source that keeps people warm
Legalize weed, hard drugs, till folks confuse day and night
Invite the world's poor, pay their college, its their right
Encourage the young to transition, keep parents in the dark,
If anyone objects, call them haters, what a lark!
We want citizens broke, struggling, and sore,
For resentment fuels the revolution we’re working for.
I ran for Senator, President too
Cheered by crowds, so dumb, who knew?
Then one day I was kidnapped by green men from outer space
They told me they had to save the human race
Their planet already ruined, earth the last stand
For Freedom, and Truth, and everything grand
They replaced the left half of my brain, returned me to earth.
To redeem my radical past I had to prove my worth.
Had to pretend to still be left, my country to save
I was elected president on a progressive wave
I used those green soldiers from Antares, declared martial law,
But couldn't rescue my country from the progressive claw
So I had to escape with the aliens, join their UFO
But all the galaxies were Woke, no place to go.
The Antarans looked grim; they would never sell their soul
So we went on a suicide mission into a black hole
To our great surprise, the black hole turned light
to a mirror universe, where left became right
Sure, my heart was now on the right of my chest
Just a small price to pay, to solve all the rest.
No crime in the cities, no locks needed on doors
Everyone clean and wholesome, Victorian mores
Families strong, with values to hold,
Not perfect, but a future of hope could unfold.
Know (Chain Haiku)
One would think we'd know
Knowing, God, intimately
Gives understanding
Gains Loves true beauty
Life's expectant pregnancy
Carrying duty
Expectant, truly
Across the void's Great Divide
On the Greatest Horse
That Joseph could find
That Mary could whisper to
Ruach, be in thee
Give wings to the beast
This beast of proud countenance
Carries Providence
The Great Lamb of God
Come again as a Lion
Ride champion ride
Archangel Trumpet
Be loudly blown in Zion
Know, Everyone
THE SON OF MAN, HE
He comes to sit on the Throne
Payed the price alone
Soldiering a cross
Piercing the Darkness with light
And whom by His side?
Who will stand and say
I know You My Lord, Yes. Yes
I Do Remember You
You were the ONE, yes
You were the ONE, who carried
The One that Ferried
The ONE Love married
Bridegroom We are your Bride
To BE, at YOUR side
The Holy Spirit
Executing, Your Love call
The Father's Will
Being done, on Earth
As the Family makes last stand
As the Earth stands still
Trans-figured, ultimately
Our hearts can become aflame
With the light of Truth
Hallowed Be Thy Name
O,O,O Hallowed Be Thy Name
A Lion-Poet
The Great Mountain King
Phantom of the Opera
The re-appearing
Time is drawing Nigh
When ALL the World, we shall see
The breaker of chains
The Word, Is His Name
Hallowed, Faithful and True, True
Poetic and Stark
Shine light in the dark
Gather us under your wing
Flint for us the spark
Pure, integrity
Is it not everything
To hold your head high
A lamp heads our path
So see through the nothingness
Through the by and by
Through the pokerface
That curses us with it's eyes
Stains us with it's dye
Stop the Suckerpunch
Ward the Warden's Den of Thieves
Of Hell's junk, Baal, bonds
The heart of the deal
"The Treacherous Dealer Deals"
Monopolies
Elites, apathy
Break the chains of their darkness
Take hold of the flame
This poem was written after I took a tour of the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in Wyoming, the site of Custer's Last Stand.
It was the year eighteen sixty-eight.
The U.S. government signed the Fort Laramie Treaty.
The Black Hills were to be closed to white settlements,
Preserved for the Lakota Indians
Forever, so long as the buffalo roamed.
'Forever' lasted less than eight years.
The eastern railroads needed meat for their track crews,
So professional hunters followed the rails westward.
Men like 'Buffalo Bill' made their living
Killing the buffalo for meat, hides, and sport.
It was the year eighteen seventy-two.
America celebrated its centennial.
Gold was discovered in the Black Hills,
And people in their thousands rushed to the west
Seeking fortunes and living space.
Most of them were immigrants to America
Fleeing depression and prejudice,
And ready to ignore the letter of the treaty law.
Towns quickly sprung up along the immigrant trails.
Towns like Deadwood - an illegal encampment
In the midst of Indian land.
People like Calamity Jane - an illegal immigrant.
Wild Bill Hickok - another illegal.
In the year eighteen seventy-six
The U.S. government sent the army to remove the Indians
From 'their land'.
Almost half of Custer's troops were immigrants themselves
From seventeen different countries
And two marked down as 'unknown'.
You already know the basic story.
The Lakota won the battle
But lost the war and their sacred Black Hills.
General Custer became a legend,
The Indian culture was 'civilized,
And U.S. history moved on.
History is full of ironies.
Custer, a hero for the North side
Winning battles against slavery in the Civil War,
Won greater fame by dying in a war to enslave the Lakota.
What's the lesson we should learn from all this?
Each of us standing here today is an 'illegal immigrant'.
We need to remember.
Did this stranger appear for reasons unknown?
Just like that no good half-crazy other?
Another stranger among those he knows not
But alas he may be the others rugged brother
His mind, yes it wanders ever now and again
While some even call him no good names
But he’s seen life through eyes of horror
But it’s always his kind that gets the blame
Homeless, alone and he really doesn’t know
What brought him this far down?
But the kind neighbors all agree in unison on something
His kind needs to up and leave their town
There’s places for his kind and it’s behind bars
So he won’t pester or harm our precious own
And who knows what kind of disease or viruses
Are still crawling around in his bones
This vagrant needs to just get on down the road
He needs to be somebody else’s problem you know
We’re descent, respectable people in this town
We don’t need someone hanging around, yep he’s got to go
The sheriff beat him until he was bloodied and unconscious
And some others drug his body down an old country lane
They tossed him in the woods in a bloody pile
Maybe he’ll wash away with the coming rain
The local paper had his story on the front page
It said some thugs must have killed this young man
And the sheriff made a comment later on that day
The county was behind him and were making a stand
No matter how it ended in time and in space
And no matter what made them lie as evil came out
The boy they killed and threw in the swamp land
Is not what this writing is all about?
It’s about how people are afraid of the unknown
And will kill if they don’t understand
The boy who died there in the swamp
Fought in Viet Nam and made his last stand
He’d seen horrible things up close and personal
And his mind just went sort of off site
That’s why he traveled the roads of back country
And that’s how he met death on that terrible night
Form:
Government (show) Shut Down December 2018
Messianic Don found tarnished appeal
trumpeted bluster thwarted
with muted (hip hip hooray) Democratic zeal
played (on microscale) like quashed
ill fated braggadocio big deal
bombast, sans General George Armstrong
Custer's last stand,
viz Little Bighorn, achilles heel,
where Native Americans
showed deadly steel
against cocksure doodling
haughtiness didst conceal
Yankee sited in cross hairs,
who got comeuppance,
whence his notorious
reputation did never heal,
thus markedly high light
ting (albeit in deadly fashion) might
whooped, undermined, and
served just desserts,
when forces of the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne,
and Arapaho tribes did unite
defending their turf against
7th Cavalry Regiment of the
United States, mauled as bloody sight,
which justified comeuppance,
and whipped up white
settlers fury like an inferno doth ignite
combustible material showing
no mercy toward "red men"
unleashing brutal, short
and nasty genocidal spite
long a tragic footnote in history
proves tummy at hefty price
that present swaggering presidential chieftain
more'n halfway thru administration thrice
occasions brought third "shut down"
(the first time in more than 40 years)
during his opprobrious term,
now got meted "no dice"
cuz commander in chief usurped, provoked,
and kickstarted retaliatory actions, I.C.E.
suspect, where staunch stonewalling tactics
unexpectedly found paunchy big boy lice
sensed to shame, name and blame Congress
i.e. as he thrust forward power,
and hood did launch
bully tactics doth evince,
how he does not play "nice"
demanding five billion dollars for
pet project wall barring Mexicans
(and other asylum seekers south
of the border) did not entice
unanimous concurrence thus sets device
sieve ness roundly shows
Trump doth need strong cussed hard advice!
In the whispering embrace of twilight's veil,
Where shadows lengthen and echoes of memory swell,
I find myself drifting in a river of consciousness,
Young boys, brave and bold, stepping into eternity,
Like crimson poppies falling on sacred ground,
Innocence forsaken in villages and towns.
The cold hand of death and the longing for peace,
Rifles, bayonets, and thunderous artilleries,
Chasing clouds and dreaming of ethereal dames,
Lives consumed by the relentless flames of war.
Sunrises in their hearts, moonlight in their eyes,
Yet sunsets came too soon, heedless of their cries,
"Mother, father, your beloved son shall return,"
As a thousand splendid stars on each face burn.
Crimson poppies adorning their uniforms,
Tender and warm, a somber adornment,
Crimson poppies beneath their nails,
In their boots; their final exhale.
Tea and meals prepared by mother's hand,
Now only in memories, their presence sketched.
Father’s gruff voice and playful fights with siblings,
Echoes of a distant life, yet empowering.
Home was now a trench, a brotherhood forged,
In the spirit of camaraderie, their hearts engorged.
On muddied ground, their last stand found,
Young boys, brave and bold, forever bound.
In the twilight of thought, where lives entwine with dreams,
A song of melancholy rises, a tale of eternal seams,
For in the silence of eternity, they remain young stars,
Shining in the cosmos, freed from war's scars.
Like crimson poppies scattered across the battlefield,
Their sacrifice an unending testament, forever sealed,
In a world where innocence and courage eternally meld,
Their spirits whisper in the winds, in stories forever held.
Mystic and dramatic, their legacy weaves,
Through the fabric of time, in twilight's eaves,
A tapestry of valor, in crimson and gold,
Young boys, brave and bold, who shall never grow old.
Off to the side downslope my ride I had time to unburden
I don't know why but somehow thought I might could use my lasso
Tied there upon my saddle
On a small steep bluff it was just enough to stay above the current
But it couldn't last I was thinkin' fast 'bout what might be my savin'?
How my hide to be savin'
As they tumbled past the boys I'd last left as my sweet companions
Were screamin' like the demon that unleashed this ghastly end
This fiery ghastly end
As I swung the horn down from my mount my eyes swept up past Bill
He was staring down from the Devil's crown to the witches brew below
The maelstrom down below
He was still astride that deadly tide that somehow he had conjured
And I could see him smilin' there his eyes still fire a'blazin'
His eyes like fire a'blazin'
And he laughed, I swear like a banshee there above the Hell below
A screamin' wail that would even pale a priest upon his altar
Mid prayer from the altar
Fire still shooting from his eyes, lightning in each hand
He was looking down upon the ground where now I made my stand
I thought it my last stand
The cauldron boiled like a Coven's glow 'cept now a torrent ragin'
And the last I saw of the Bar D crew was a wisp and smolderin' ember
A charred and smolderin' ember
The quakie grove on the bluff I strove around me started crumblin'
And I stumbled round on the crumblin' ground my mind a maverick runnin'
A branded maverick runnin'
My faithful mount fell from my sight his scream announcing his sad plight
It rose high above with the Devil's roar and tumbled down to the valley floor
It tumbled down to the valley floor
The white bark trees all lost their leaves as they twisted in confusion
They bent, some broke, but like the spokes of a penny farthing twisted
Together some had twisted