Long Like kings Poems

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Scale Moves

Here's a song lyrics that incorporates the themes and ideas you provided:


[Intro]
(Sensual R&B beat starts playing)
In the old world, where grandeur reigns
Luxury and opulence, the elevated trains
Royalty and high-class, a world apart
Where the elite reside, and the wealthy start


[Verse 1]
I'm feeling like a king, got my crown on tight
Maybach music playing, it's a royal night
I'm sipping on the finest, got my feet on the floor
I'm the master of my fate, and I'm asking for more
In the Great Basin, where the Shoshone roam
I'm the Snake Indian, with the rhythm in my bones


[Chorus]
Snake you up, snake you up, take you down with flair
Snake you up, snake you up, got the sensual beat in the air
Snake you up, snake you up, moving to the rhythm and the sound
Snake you up, snake you up, got the luxury all around


[Verse 2]
Northern Paiute people, we're co-located in style
Federally recognized, our tribe's worth your while
We're dancing through the night, with the music in our souls
Our traditional settlements, where our ancestors made us whole
From the mountains to the valleys, our legacy remains
We're the royalty of the land, with the snake's deadly games


[Chorus]
Snake you up, snake you up, take you down with flair
Snake you up, snake you up, got the sensual beat in the air
Snake you up, snake you up, moving to the rhythm and the sound
Snake you up, snake you up, got the luxury all around


[Bridge]
In the old world, where the grandeur reigns
We're the modern-day royalty, with the Maybach music and the gains
We're living life like kings and queens, with the luxury at our feet
We're the masters of our fate, with the sensual beat


[Outro]
(Sensual R&B beat continues to play)
Snake you up, snake you up, one last time
We're the Snake Indians, with the rhythm and the crime
Snake you up, snake you up, it's a royal affair
With the luxury and the opulence, we're leaving you impaired.


Note: The lyrics are written in a way that pays homage to the Shoshone people and their culture, while also incorporating the themes of luxury, opulence, and grandeur. The repetition of "snake you up" is meant to be a sensual and rhythmic element, rather than a literal reference to the snake.
Form: Ballad


My Friends Are Among the Stars

Clearest of crystals, each of them a pearl,
Like drops of dew on the lotus leaf in sunshine:
You came into my life, filled it with joys unique
And just as suddenly left me and went away.
Abandoned me to face the crises of life alone
Unaided by the wisecracks, the day’s mischief, 
The unprintable titles you gave to adversaries!
I look for you in the stars, perhaps you are there
I ask you why, why did you make me
Feel so special and helped me rise above self pity
And indulge dreams when we were all a bunch
Of spoiled brats who couldn’t reach the heights
In an atmosphere unfriendly and hostile to all.
Why, why did you have to go away and drop out
The rat race and leave me struggling with angst?
 
And fighting misfortune.  With you, I felt so secure.
None would tear down the sand castles we built
Nor remind us we were nuts.  You gave us the vision
And the opposition marched past like the king who wore
The precious royal robe that none but the truthful could see;
But, to his peril, a pair of naughty kids were not deceived. 
They shouted , “Our  King  is without  his clothes today!”
And the multitude confirmed, “His Majesty is naked!” 
The chant went round and the monarch ran for cover.
Thus too most often our fancies held our heads high .
We linked our arms and formed  a circle of brave guys
Fighting unseen hordes, our own self doubts and rants
That impeded our advance yet made life worth living.  
We lived like kings defending our patch, our self esteem.
I never thought I’d outlive them; the pain is hard to bear, 
The separation from long loved friends is hard to bear’
I long for the past that is all gone and quietly I tell them.
Maybe you’re lucky, you left early and got the best seats.
 
I’m fated to linger some more and  wait for the Call. 
I still wish You were here and tell me I’m not alone!” 
That before the day is gone a golden chariot will arrive 
And bear me aloft to the heights we so vividly dreamed.
I pray for you; that is all I can do for the hopes and support
You gave me.  Relax and enjoy your peace in heaven, 
You’re the real stars of my life, I’ll never be far from you.
I shall always love you and honor you, my true friends.

The God Reset

The God Reset

All Hail the mega-Temple brokers!
The Heavenly stock sellers
Chomping at the bit
Who parade in their Gucci suits
Escorting you comfortably
(like Kings)
Into “the Kingdom”come.
Beware: 
Its a counterfeit kingdom
Not the real deal.
(Love money, much?
 (Oh, but we won’t really actually tell you if we don't think you'd be a good “asset” in “our" Kingdom--)
They seem like they know something
You don’t know-- their words seem so godly,
Their knowledge of spiritual things so impressive-but then you hear them prognosticate:
“And did you know, 
A ‘powerful message’ can be yours if you only throw
 a few shekels our way today?”
(of course, they don’t exactly say it that way)
Coming straight from GD!
And advocate for a Kingdom that runs on cash.
They’ll happily seat you in
The First row, 
Sell you a religious show,
Put the God mirror out in front 
Of your sorry old face and sell
Repentance.
And then, when you repent, (properly and self-consciously)
they’ll grab you by the shoulders,
Hug you, and then ask you if you
Want to join the church...
“Looks like a Winner”, they silently intone, as you
Reach for your wallet.
Now they’ve sold you a 
False Christ.
And you weren’t even in on the deal!
You thought you were sincere!
You didn’t sign up for a 
Dead-end religion that would steal your
Joy, and maybe even your new-found love for GD-
You signed up for a 
New Life.
Beware of the status-quo christians,
The little”c” christians
The walking dead, 
Frozen Chosen
Lack of real emotion,
Preaching a gospel
Of “Cultural Churchianity”.
It’s not the real
thing-- the Christ-centered gospel that 
Calls for a clean heart, and a
Clear conscience--
A gospel that has nothing to do with 
The brand of your clothes, the number 
Of dollars in your Bank Account,
The car in your garage, or the paid-off mortgage!
Wake up,
Heaven Brokers!
Your “stock” is rapidly falling,
And Christ is getting tired of calling
Cuz you hung up your gD- phone long ago,
When you let greed and fame 
Consume your soul.

Jesus Christ Be Praised

Jesus Christ Be Praised
By Roy Merritt

He went to see the queen of Spain told her the world was round
That he could get to the east going west that’s what he had found
He told her if he sailed the Atlantic kept going that way  
He could find the wondrous Orient could even find Cathay 

Then they wouldn’t have to go east down that long Silk Road 
And worry about the Muhammadans or bandits as they go  
And so after several tries they finally gave in agreed
And gave him the money for three ships whatever else he’d need

And so on August 3 he set sail pushing out to sea
With three ships the Nina, Pinta and the Santa Marie
And so after many tribulations pushing along with the wind
On Oct. 12 they spotted land their journey at its end

They landed in Hispaniola the natives sorely amazed
They’d never seen such a sight in all their many days
They treated the strangers kindly treated them just like kings
Treated them with human kindness amazed by many things

So Columbus returned to Spain told them of many treasures
This land could provide of many great pleasures
But by his third visit there he'd inspired much hate
The natives wanted to kill him they by now irate

He’d turned them to bondage to work as a slave 
Claiming to make them Christian, Christian to be saved 
This be the way the true Christian word
To enslave a man in bondage which certainly be absurd

Oh yes this be the religion Jesus Christ inspired
The one and only true religion soon to spread like fire
And at last it made to Europe continent of the white man
Who declared an intention to spread it to every land

And so off they went conquering Jesus Christ be praised
At the same time enriching himself turning men to slaves 
Turning men to slaves turning them into beasts 
Jesus Christ be praised Jesus Christ GIVE FEAST!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member House Detective

Sitting here watching TV about the Sherlock Homes tales,                              
we are all biting our nails.                                               Who done it we ask~was it the whales,                          waiting for the next scene and details.                             The door bell rings,                                                                              who can it be~we all chimed in like kings.                                               There was no door bell ringing in the TV show,                                                 Mr. Orange got up to see who was at our door,  
a few minutes later he returned with a roar.                      We asked~who was at the door for fun,                            Mr. Orange said~no one.                                                With tomato sauce running down his chin,                                            the evidence was in.                                                     Mr. Orange had eaten the whole pizza with a grin,                                         John must re-order one for us or we will become thin.                                Never leave Garfield alone with a pizza box,                                           he just cannot help himself when it comes with lox.                                  As the writer and house detective there is no doubt,                                     I have just figured this one out.


Date Written: 7/19/2022
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Season's Voice

Like a gentle tear from God
Rain splashes the windows, erasing
Marks of dust, grime and grunge
With sparkling drops, embracing
The wonders of fresh reflections
Enlightening, delighting, replacing
The stains of a troublesome world

Like a yearning from heaven
Sunlight whispers across the meadow
Guiding thoughts to our Creator
Who gave us this light to bestow
A wispy, nimble inspirational warmth
Through our hearts on the rainbow
Coming alive, dancing, dazzling, brilliant

Like a note from the greatest melody
Thunder falls across the sky, snatching
The moments with a firm, loud voice
Meant to remind of the lightening, matching
Clouds and colors, hues of tenderness
Murmuring through the night, catching
All the stars as they twinkle with delight

Like soft feathers floating in the air
Snow caresses the naked breath with wonder
Breaking through the thoughts with a smile
Captured by those who came out to plunder
The miraculous laughter stirred by a blanket
Of white, coloring spirits so they’ll never blunder
Awakening lives to the grace of God’s marvels

Like a dream floating on the heart, fog comes
Blowing sighs of misty visions through the soul
Promising to keep the faith of those who give
Hope filled with prayers of thanks to console
Sprays of blessings reach beyond the vapors
Expressions of songs which will make you whole
Pieces of steamy relief, easing hearts from grief

The weather brings wisdom that radiates
Peace, purity and praise to the One who brings
This phenomenon sent from His kingdom
Where the music from His heart always sings
Bringing fulfillment to the soul who remembers
His grace assures believers they’ll reign like kings
Because God gave us a Son who outlasts all seasons!
Form: Rhyme

Kings Who Beg

Even a stray dog chooses dignity over slavery,
but you — so-called African leaders —
have chosen puppetry.
The Western world laughs at your blindness,
a blindness born of greed and cowardice.

If they call you in Russia, you go.
If they call you in China, you go.
If they call you in America, you go.
Always summoned, never summoning.
Even as you feed the world,
you move like jesters,
with your bowls of shame extended.

They steal from you,
then hand you crumbs from your own harvest,
and you bow in gratitude.
That is why the world does not respect you.
At the United Nations, when you rise to speak,
your funders walk out —
for they know a fool has taken the podium.

You have failed to unite,
waiting for your enemies to gather you together.
Your banks, your schools, your armies,
funded and trained by outsiders.
How can progress grow in a soil watered with chains?

You chase breadcrumbs,
while the whole bread lies in your hands.
Is your mind as dark as your skin —
is that why you cannot think?
What magic lies in Europe,
what secret in China,
that Africa cannot forge herself?

Your own son, Ibrahim Traoré,
rises to fight for unity and dignity —
yet you turn against him,
because your masters whispered so.

Everywhere you go, you are an embarrassment.
Your people weep,
the world mocks you,
and your children will inherit only ashes.

What legacy will you leave?
That you stole from your own,
to gift the thieves of Europe?
That you wore suits and ties like kings,
but your minds were empty —
your thrones hollow?

Tell me,
how can the richest continent on earth
beg from the poor of Europe?
What name shall history give you?
Kings who beg.
And beggars who call themselves kings.

Echo wind

In twilight's hush, where shadows intertwine, And heartbeats echo like a timeless rune, I find myself entranced by thee, mine, Like nothing else has ever been, or soon.

With eyes that dance like stars on a celestial plane, Thou steals breaths and thoughts into thy keeping, My soul entwined with thine in realms unknown, My wishes, dreams, and hopes in thee are weaving.

Yet, in this dance of love, let us take care, For passion's flame, unchecked, can burn and legion, So, let us speak of things some fear to share, To build our fortress on a foundation sturdy;

Let us dive into the blue, where secrets sleep, And from the depths emerge, connected deep. With hearts that beat as one, and souls that weep For joy, we'll face the world, our bond intact.

Tested we shall be, of spirit and of flesh, Our love unbroken, through trial or caress. In trust, we find our strength, in honesty, our quest, Our love a beacon, burning, burning, burning.

Use no barrier, nor guard, in acts of love, But keep our bodies pure, with faithful gloves. rotation, no progression, in acts of love, But keep our bodies pure, with faithful gloves.

Let not the allure of liquid gold or leaf, Nor substances that cloud the mind, dilute our keep. For we, together, stand as sturdy as the chief Of mountains ancient, our resolve, our belief.

Respect must reign, like kings in their domains, Consent vital, like the oxygen we breathe. No "nay" shall pass these lips, no pain "`' repel, Bound by love's sacred promise, we two kneel.

In utter trust, we'll venture, hand in hand, Our bond unbroken, our love understood, grand. Throughout our lives, this vow shall echo, stand. Forevermore, we'll be, till love's end.
Form: Imagism

Someone Lied

Someone lied 
They claim always that they are called by God 
Then They Created an event place for worship
They preach always about their god 
And collect offering for thier God
Some of them in Africa 
Are among the richest in the midsts of the poor
Oh God I must be dreaming if you called this one's 
They are always speaking from a book 
This book was same from the time 
I was born till now it never change 
Yet All this year's of my life 
I saw alot of things change 
I saw new countries growing
I saw new factories in this countries
I saw new development always in this countries
Their youth are so proud to serve their countries
I saw they never run and die in the desert or high sea like the African youth 
I saw their leaders dedicated to serve them 
But in my country 
Instead to work out our ways 
We prefer to spend our times in prayers
And when I compare what the so called 
Chosen ones preach 
compare to their life style
I figured out obviously
Someone lied 



Someone lied
They keep lying on daily bases 
Cos they don't understand what they say 
Despite they know what they need from us 
Does not mean they don't know they are lying
They keep their people in perpetuity
And they love to be in charge in their denominations
They have royalty like  kings 
They are served and worship
They are adored and respected
By their followers
Which are always large in numbers
How can this blind see 
How can you turn a sheep to a lion 
What remedy can be more for a lost mind 
I said it before I must be dreaming if
Truly God choose this one's 
Cos from their actions compared 
To their words is obvious that 
Someone lied
Form: Epic

Cosmic Dog From Goa

My final time with God
Happened a year latter
I was staying down in Goa
With my wife
Enjoying being with her
After our reconciliation

We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa
Living like Kings and Queen
Just for a few days
High up on a hill

Overlooking the beach
Every morning I went down to the beach
And did yoga by the water

While contemplating life
And every morning
I saw the same dog
Not just a dog

But a cosmic dog
Filled with the divine spark of God
And the dog recognized me

And spoke to me and I knew
That God was present once more
In the face of the that cosmic dog

Kindred spirit
perhaps to the cosmic cat
that had save my soul
in Berkeley so long ago

I told the dog everything
And he just looked at me

With those soulful eyes of his
And I knew he knew that I knew
That he was possessed by God

God had sent him to me
To make sure that I was on the right path
That the reconciliation that God had promoted
Was on track that I was back with my wife

And that everything was the way it should be
Again I asked God whether he was Jesus or Allah
Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha

God the cosmic dog just stared at me
I finally asked him directly

Say if you are God the God of Jesus
Bark once

The Dog looked at me and barked
I said well if you are Allah bark twice

The dog barked twice
Well are you buddha then bark three times if yes

The god dog barked three times

Hmm well are you Satan
The dog growled at me

And I knew I had gone too far

Finally I was at peace
And for the next three days

The God Dog was my constant companion
And I knew God for the final time
In my life
© Jake Aller  Create an image from this poem.

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