Long Litany Poems
Long Litany Poems. Below are the most popular long Litany by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Litany poems by poem length and keyword.
Protective Lyricism for the Ages Part Two
Martin Luther King creating a path to dessimate discrimination
An angel earning his wings from an epiphany of prophetic elation
Listening to Ella Fitzgerald sing while learning a litany of biblical quotations
Acknowledging what the accomplished man can bring to the depth of your insight and notations
Reflection on the history of mankind and the human race
Detection of the mystery of the refined acquisition of Heavenly Grace
Invention of the symphony that defined its own musical place
Prevention of the epiphany in the name of the legitimate corruption that we all must face
Culture and thought, revolution and resistance
Vultures distraught at the economic powers inability to accept difference
Subcultures contort beneath the robotic clandestine inference
As agriculture evades the poisonous attempts to regain universal prominence
Can you remain content to wipe the tears from a broken child’s eyes?
Will you refrain to vent when confronted with the fears of a vulnerable persons cries?
Will you remain content and resolute when presented with categorical lies?
Can you see through a charlottan selling snake oil and prevent him from orchestrating further demise?
Stand tall among the uncertainty and the acrimony and defeat
Create a call for continuity as the less evolved struggle to compete
Lauren Bacall and her comical purity as her timing is complete
Lucifers fall from heaven that remains spiritually almost now obsolete
As the heightened notions of virtue overcome the notions of hell
And the frightened invocations of servitude become commotions for the brave to tell
While the enlightened devotions of gratitude arise from the men who initially fell
The power rises above the certitude of any humanly epiphany or spell
Embrace the new creations of progressive thought in actions
Face the few negative connotations of suggestive criticism of your exactions
Replace the two imitations of corrective empiricism of your protractions
Disgrace the blue intonations of all defective invitations to celebrate protective lyricism that requires astute observations
The End
Copywright Elizabeth Moroz 2023
Bang the gavel. Bang it again.
It's Judgment Day for my children.
Bang the gavel. Bang it again.
I sit on my Throne, a figure on High
To pronounce Judgment from my seat in the sky.
It's Judgment Day for my children. They tremble before me.
I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.
Three sons and a daughter down on their knees. Begging for mercy.
It's Judgment Day. Bang the gavel. Bang it again.
The first defendant arises. My only daughter.
She kneels before me, head bowed, hands clasped. Begging for mercy.
She recites her litany of offenses against me.
Should I cut off her head or merely sever her knee?
Now my first son, a strongman, comes to his feet
Massive muscles trembling before me
He cut me off hard at age thirty-six
Not a phone call or test, not even a card
I ponder whether I should burn him to death in a tub of pig lard.
Let him beg for mercy.
My last two sons stand up together. They're good boys, respectful,
kind to me and kind to my wife.
There's no doubt in my mind that I'll be sparing their life
It's Judgment Day for my children. They tremble before Me.
I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.
I call my daugher to the bench: "What do you have to say
in your defense, miserable wench?"
She breaks down in tears that melt down her years. Before me stands
a mere lass of nine.
"I'm so sorry, Dad," she whimpers. "I treated you like dirt," she simpers.
"Off with her head," I shout, proclaiming her sentence.
I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.
******************
But I am not God. I have no gavel to bang nor Throne to sit on
Neither am I any figure on High.
My judgment is flawed, as are my decisions
All of them models of judicial imprecision
Only one thing I know and I know that thing only:
God, the True Judge, requires us only
To act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before Him.
So, my just action will be
to love mercy and walk humbly:
"Come back, my daughter.
Return, my son.
I forgive you completely!
~ Can you forgive me?"
June 28, 2018
Christmas! The most loved time of the year!
Holiday magic: decorations and festive cheer,
Returning festivities of this late December day
Is a world-wide celebration of one, whose birthday
Set the Christian world aflame back in history!
This ever since, has been regarded the start of AD.
Millions have followed his teachings since that day,
And despite persecution, true believers seldom sway!
Strong were His teachings: to love our fellow man!
It’s a tenet, in which many believe, and by which we can
Strike down adversity, if we follow the “righteous way”.
Confident in knowing, when comes our final day,
On our being called, to give account for past actions,
Most of us hope our family and friends reactions
In recalling our life’s deeds, will prove a delight,
Not a litany of ill deeds, as our sternest critics might!
Gifts given today, represent the Three Wise Men, who brought.
As Envoys, presents for the new born King they sought.
Not knowing whom they’d discover on their arrival?
Did know He would be essential for man’s survival.
They were made aware, by the arrival of a star,
He was important, so they’d travelled from afar
In search of the place where he’d be born.
Such was their joy on that auspicious morn
In finding he was somewhere in Bethlehem,
Secure in knowing they’d find the Saviour child,
Which was their sole aim and chosen intent.
Herding sheep on the hills, resting in their tent,
Yet aware events were unfolding, lowly shepherds
Were visited by angels, and paid heed to the news they heard!
Everywhere, church bells, rang out loud in joyful jubilation,
Calling all mankind to rejoice in the celebration,
Extolled a birth which would affect every nation!
Lying soundly asleep in a lowly manger, for a bed,
Every inn full: Mary and child sheltered in a cattle shed.
But from such lowly beginnings, his fame and teachings grew:
Remembered with joy at Christmas, as most Christians do:
Although many years have since passed, Believers celebrate
This day as His birthday. Upon this most auspicious date,
Everyone who “believes” will rejoice and participate.
Rhymer. December 20th, 2016.
Like morning light break forth of eastern skies
And astound with beauty the waking eyes
So did my heart before you rose to praise
A seraph in the nectar of flesh, May's
Brightest bloom in the garden of gladness
The purest form of earth's bare loveliness.
To you, O joy, O let me sing
Let me tell of love first coming.
Cho.
Awake the woodland choir for my song
Awake the primal hour of spring's soft throng
Awake the lark not yet on wing
Awake the world, an anthem bring
Of praise, of praise to beauty, praise
To the sweet rainbow of our days
Sweet fragments make the rainbow bloom aloft
Light splintered is yet in beauty so soft
And whole, the healing balm of my parched soul
Each little wonder a stair a bright stair
A garden of glory on heaven's scroll
I climb to suck the breast of worship here
I seek your worth and find God there
Uplifting me from mortal care
Inside the tabernacle of the soul
Wild and dusty, the dry harmattans roll
And every tender tree gasping for rain
Beheld sapphire arid sky and pray in vain
The pearly cumulus would sable turn
Where on the eye pivots the graceful tern
And then so suddenly you came
The phoenix of another name
Too deaf the deft pianist fingers toll
His litany your virtue to extol
You the image's bone transformed, transcend
All that desire loves and love declares right
Eden's broken wings yet make praise ascend
As prayers in the fluid light, a flight
Of rapture, leaving silent stars
And earth's tumult to jealous wars
Nothing but you, and you alone exist
O sacred symphony of heaven's bliss
And all earth shambles fore you fall again
To rise in your glory a better tale
The joy of beggining the end of pain
Lighthouse eternal, love that cannot fail
Sweet still the night aglow parades
Yet star like flowers morning fades
Morning melted into mist, grass perspired
In the cool, leaves transpired droplets of bliss
The rainbow my thoughts like heaven attired
Beauty its providence hasten to kiss
Time had divinity at its leafed door
And seas and rivers in long triumph roar
The rhythm of earth so to begin
To break the carnal rule of sin.
Labyrinth of Sighs
Wondering through a labyrinth of sighs
More platitudes with attitudes that never question why
A litany of afterthoughts about where we go when we die
An emboldened range of rude retorts refuting the reasons why I cry
A canon blazing wartime over a century ago
The night sky spent stargazing, wondering what we really know
A multinational conglomerate just phasing out more duplicitous advertisements that “flow”
A hungry orphan on a street corner, with nowhere else to go
Self-aggrandising promotion everywhere I seem to look
The wealthy uprising causing commotions, celebrities writing books
A typhoon on the island coast, Turkey on the day the earth shook
A morbid day that hurts the most,
An undignified Capatalist crook
The arrogant certainty of western superiority
The way the monotony forms around typecast minorities
The precedence of material goods conspiring to take global priority
The contradictions of individualism that consume the vast majority
The medical anomalies and surgical advancements
The incredible atrocities of cosmetic enhancements
A formidable ferocity of genetics and semantics
An incredible philosophy of frenetic theological pedantics
A sincere gaze of solidarity into another persons eyes
A mere phase of different polarities that use scientific graphs to signify
A Purple Haze of creative improvisational genius that cannot be quantified
A confused daze of inconvenience as another witness is proven to have lied
Returning to the central point of a theoretical discourse
Concerning a fundamental joint possible hypothetical recourse
A burdened soldier after war suffering the agony of remorse
An ancient boulder from the shores of civilisations geographic historical course
A curious mathematician, an inspiring original think
The spurious contradictions of a political candidate on the brink
A furious proposition concerning a scandalously placed eye wink
Human connectivity and the endless search for the missing link
Copywright Elizabeth Moroz
And after all, all these, my love
I adore you and will always love you, my dove
After so much hubbub and confusion
After so much chaos and tribulation
After so many wacky discussions
After so many funny contentions
After so many false accusations
After so many weak oppositions
After so many vain humiliations
After so many terrible deeds
After so many wills
After so many avowals
After so many strange rainbows
After so many real lies
After so many misunderstandings
After so many crazy pleadings
After so many futile quarrels
After so many useless looks
After so many hodgepodge and perils
After so many manias and childish gestures
After so much insults and chimeras
After so much contempt and paramilitary wars
After so many litany roars
After so many laconic reactions
After so many bitter uproars
After so many backward speeches
After so many elegiac poems
After so many demonic emblems
After so many incredible crevasses
After so many days and nights of irksomeness
After so many drunken and diseased sweats
After so many fast and furtive tears
After so many things that I wouldn't dare to detail
And after so many others that I wouldn’t like to list
I love you, I want you and I will continue to love you
Love is a madness swollen with inexplicable lust
Words and lyrics are sometimes incapable tools
To properly define the destiny and the exegeses of the soul
No one is perfect except a woman's imagination
Men are always wrong. Strong men never own
The appropriate reason whatever the season
After all, all these, my pretty rose
The firmament wouldn't turn tenebrous
The spring wind has come to garland Mother Nature
Birds fly and sing. What a joyous adventure
The future will tell the rest. Like a scribe in verve, I can't wait to write
And after all these, I love you and I want to confirm all my chitchats.
P.S. Translation of ‘Après Tout, Tout Cela, Ma Jolie Rose’ by Hébert Logerie
Copyright© February 2022, Hébert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Rags To Threadbare Tatters...
(a true “FAKE” story
how Mein Kampf - chill as hoary
frost – and totaling lacking glory.)
A woeful disgraceful
cautionary tale stitched
from the barest thread
harkens back half life
of yours truly
comprising a few decades
in the pluperfect past,
when this husband newlywed
living hand to mouth,
when thy wife and me
occupied mine boyhood abode
sharing one kid size bed,
though dwelling under
same roof as parents,
this "pariah" did dread,
cuz prior to getting married
most every day
found me loathing mandates,
yet never fled
duet hoo bing
cowardly, yours truly
blithely endured pa
rant till fulminations,
and litany of"hateful"
broadsides at my head
minor misfortune, sans scant
details barely one
measly paragraph
tenuously stretched,
thus (with all manner
of dogspeed, I fetched
kvetched against restricted
poetic licensed finesse)
to complete
at least one
page (OpenOffice)
word document spread
attempting to convey penury,
but nonetheless I
consider meself
if nothing else
blue tiff lee well red
irrelevant to stand in good stead,
and pertaining to
profession of thespian,
never found me professionally
acting out a scene
neither did I glean,
nor memorized
scripts, thy counter
with applying literary mien
super tramp ping cheap tricks
to convince skeptical readers
"Quod Erat Demonstrandum"
just show up on opening night
when mine break
out character lean
on words since being "green"
behind ears of corn lean
refulgent klieg lights
will shine a light
asthma pantomime
dramatics mean
business and take
thumb page from playbook
portray me as
superb drag queen
when "lights", "camera,"
and "action" called
debut appearance
with stellar broadcasts
in every magazine!
This is for Litany of Decay
All hope tonight is just a void
Th cure was lost so long ago
But I still dream you will lie next to me
Though you gave up on me so long ago
I miss the way the pain made me forget
I miss the way the pain made me Lose all misery
All hope tonight is just a void
Th cure was lost so long ago
But I still dream you will lie next to me
Though you gave up on me so long ago
I miss the way the pain made me forget
I miss the way the pain made me Lose all misery
All hope tonight is just a void
Th cure was lost so long ago
But I still dream you will lie next to me
Though you gave up on me so long ago
I miss the way the pain made me forget
I miss the way the pain made me Lose all misery
Your love was never meant for me
Nothing I was when you met me
Nothing I was when you left me
Nothing I am as I destroy myself
I must Live to face another day
To sing this damned litany of decay
My heart beckons for the grave
But there is no escape
So I sing this litany of decay
Don't mind me as I fade
Dance with me under the light of the moon
And sing to about my doom
Serenade me with an epitaph
So I might feel what it's like to truly die
I see your face, it takes all the pain away
But you suddenly fade into the darkest of shade
Your love was never meant for me
Nothing I was when you met me
Nothing I was when you left me
Nothing I am as I destroy myself
I must Live to face another day
To sing this damned litany of decay
My heart beckons for the grave
But there is no escape
So I sing this litany of decay
Don't mind me as I fade
Living is suffering
Homicidal with you
Suicidal without you
I understand if you give up on me
The burden will fall
Today I might, today I may
Set you free, from me
Your love was never meant for me
Nothing I was when you met me
Nothing I was when you left me
Nothing I am as I destroy myself
I must Live to face another day
To sing this damned litany of decay
My heart beckons for the grave
But there is no escape
So I sing this litany of decay
Don't mind me as I fade
You gaudy stars do not get giddy when I grieve
Nor wrest through clouds to melt this darkness
That so befits what logics to your destiny weave
For all dreams, and all theories prove finiteness
Where death draws the line,
And purposes find terminus
And we a quick, withered gust
To its vexing carnal fate resign
While amoeba dares the boundary we cannot pass
And earthworms wallow above our graves in grass.
O Tanya, I would talk to God for you, and ask him
Why you had to be murgered in your youth, I may
But cannot tell which way your feelings, it is a dim
Realm without news, and you may there, rather stay
Where security bars do not fail
For murderers and murdered, keep
Alike the common pillow of sleep
And nothing changes where prevail
Death upon soul. But what rightt even then that you
Should one day keep company with murderers too?
It was the Sabbath, and all the angels that around us
Share the worship of our hearts, how did they Lot alone
Beheld in peril, did they not hear and join your chorus?
Since stars are only burning gas, and not jewelled stone
What other myth of man must fall
What other thing have I now to know
That misplaced faith may bring no woe
When sorrows chain the back to wall
Take them all, Lord, except the truth of your soon coming
No other hope is left when earth about us begins crumbling.
ii
Tonight the light left the stars
Ashrouded in dark veils of sorrow
Neglecting callous clouds, and spars
Yearning against damocles tomorrow,
Agrieved my heart for a young life lost
Lady woman, I conjure her majesty
Orchid unseared by sun or frost
Winnowed and wilted by a tragic end
Earthly fragrance flood heaven again
Farewell, sweet teacher, hush to sleep
Anthems from your voice hold memory
Resplendant while yet bereft we weep
Evincing faith in the cold claws of misery
Well you made your example yesterday
Elusive mortality, how you discomfit us
Levelling us in our glory to common dust
Litany now, ye angels, bring Christ and his day.
Mission of the Yellow Songbird
A long highway road stretched its legs before me,
In a place where tumble weeds were conceived,
December evening chasing daylight back to morning
Dusk robed in faded colors starving out the sunshine
Miles put themselves between me and home
With thickets of brier brambles cradled between north and south
Alive with vesper choruses of tiny songbirds.
A gentle tap on my front fender
Roused me from hypnotic highway stupor like popping thunder
I shuddered deeply as possibilities shook my soul;
Maybe one of those gigantic bugs – maybe? Maybe?
But when I stopped my heart seized to solve the mystery
A tiny yellow songbird plastered to my grill wings still open to flight.
Gentle spirit of eternal compassion touched, caressed, my wailing sorrow
Then guided me to a desert tree with perfect boughs,
That welcomed songs of matin mornings from a tiny bird,
To lay to rest God's tiny messenger beneath his favorite tree
Songbird with perfect pitch would no longer sing praise into Heaven's face.
Called to the road again, tears raced down my cheeks
As numb miles raced by with a litany of why in each drop
Time came to take a mountain road from fertile valley to foggy ocean crest -
Screaming round a sharp curve to a screeching stop
Accident, I thought, of two cars only six cars ahead of me –
No ordinary scene -two burned out fiery shells one atop the other!
Realization, like a candle in the darkness, sent out sharp beams
I would have been in that accident had not a precious songbird
Given me a second chance to sing in ministry and embrace this grief;
In the deepest part of my grieving heart, I know our precious God
Gathered to his heart the mission of this tiniest crushed warrior
Who now sings beneath God’s window in the eternal day.
5-17-22
Contest: Divine Intervention
Sponsor: Chantal Anne Cooke
12/14/22
Contest: Poetry Marathon Mile 23
Sponsor: Mark Toney
30 Lines of a 30 Line Limit