Long Loyalist Poems
Long Loyalist Poems. Below are the most popular long Loyalist by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Loyalist poems by poem length and keyword.
In seventeen seventy-seven,
amidst the deep summer’s August heat,
Barry St. Leger, loyalist milita,
and the Iroquois walked on sore feet.
Their mission was clear: move down the Mohawk,
meet Burgoyne and split the rebel states,
except the Americans in Fort Stanwix
were effectively blocking their way.
To advance the fort had to be reduced,
but St. Leger’s force had few big guns,
so he settled into a siege of the fort,
with a mind to hold strong 'til he’d won.
But the patriots knew of the British plans,
and were not content to just sit and wait,
Tyrion County called up its militia
to save Stanwix from a bloody fate.
Eight hundred of them marched for the fort,
under the command of Nick Herkimer,
a palatine German of the Mohawk vale,
an able and determined fighter.
They stopped to camp not far from Stanwix,
and Herkimer counseled that they should hold,
to await a signal from inside the fort
and launch a two-front attack bold.
But the militia saw this as cowardice,
and said,”What else could we expect?
His own brother fights with St. Leger,
we can’t expect him to take the next step.”
Herkimer darkened at his men’s words,
and would not idly receive their scorn,
he ordered the men to be on the ready,
they would advance the following morn.
But the British knew of their approach,
and prepared to put them to the test,
near five hundred set out to intercept,
mostly Iroquois with some Loyalists.
The next day the Americans, on the move,
found themselves passing through a ravine,
unaware that eyes stared upon them
as they drank from a cool, tiny stream.
The British had planned to wait until
the patriots were all stretched out,
but some Indians opened fire too early,
a roar of muskets and loud piercing shouts.
The first volleys hit hard, stunned the militia,
a good many brave soldiers went down,
Herkimer took a ball in the leg,
and from a dying horse pitched to the ground.
So fierce was that first surprise attack,
so many patriotic souls shot dead,
that all sides involved said the tiny stream
was stained by the blood until red.
Some tried to move wounded Herkimer,
but he was still in no mood for retreat,
he took out a pipe, leaned on a tree trunk,
and said,”I will meet the enemy...”
CONCLUDES IN PART II
Here is the secret monologue of many:
"I am loyal, a servant most true!
That is until...I am not paid in full,
Then I turn to tattle, and to trash
Your trust with treason, high and foul!
As dreaded foes tread freely upon you,
I will make merry in your misery!"
"You may hate me, but faith is not free,
Loyalty demands largesse, and a fee!
For the times are adrift in seas of greed,
Full of subtle hints, hidden in sly smiles:
You there! Heed and hear: Pay me well
Or prepare to be quelled!"
Poem inspired by Mencius' important exhortation:
Mencius had an audience with King Hui of Liang. The king said, "....You must have some ideas about how to benefit my state." Mencius replied, "Why must Your Majesty use the word 'benefit'' All I am concerned with are the benevolent and the right. If Your Majesty says, 'How can I benefit my state?' your officials will say, 'How can I benefit my family,' and officers and common people will say, 'How can I benefit myself.' Once superiors and inferiors are competing for benefit, the state will be in danger. When the head of a state of ten thousand chariots is murdered, the assassin is invariably a noble with a fief of a thousand chariots, When the head of a fief of a thousand chariots is murdered, the assassin is invariably head of a subfief of a hundred chariots. Those with a thousand out of ten thousand, or a hundred out of a thousand, had quite a bit. But when benefit is put before what is right, they are not satisfied without snatching it all. By contrast there has never been a benevolent person who neglected his parents or a righteous person who put his lord last. Your Majesty perhaps will now also say, 'All I am concerned with are the benevolent and the right. Why mention 'benefit?' ''
All rights released into Public Domain
Note to the many enemies of democracy:
No need to force upon us uranium enemas.
Just billow a tiny bug into the neon lungs.
Of our bumbling, deeply divided cities.
Sit back and have a few Molotov cocktail giggles.
Some giant panda bear laughs.
As we brawl over soap and toilet paper.
Cursing God under our sparkly COVID masks.
No need for mall slashings or pressure cooker bombs.
Just plant a few wolves dressed as lipstick lambs.
Have them silence opposing opinions with racism chants.
Watch the media spotlight a mad dog shooter and a rogue cop.
To them, democracy is a demon and only worthy to rot.
No need for new-age Luftwaffe or Stalinist Migs.
To brain spray our safe spacing- I pod junkie kids.
Just fill institutions with naive freebie magicians.
Intolerant-contrarian-purple-headed-anti-Christians.
Watch them brand capitalist pig deep into the skin.
Of the hard-working WOMAN AND MAN...
As elitist Beamers, their way to their fine gated homes.
No need to invade us with a billion red atheists.
Just buy a cheap blowhorn armed with
"Separation of church and state".
Lord only knows how Satan loves a red loyalist hater.
It's so easy to cleave God from our courts and schools.
To hobble our freedom of religion and good faith.
One final note to the enemies of democracy:
Lady Liberty may be battered and cornered.
But in a blink can switch from beckon to blowtorch.
The eagle may be bloodied but still has its teeth.
WE THE PEOPLE have always rallied together.
To serve another, beat down to all of the beasts.
I am no hero or villain. I’m the further away from being a devil nor an angel. I am not the betrayer nor the foolish loyalist. Some people see me as prey, others see me as the wolf out on a stroll, looking for the next I sink my teeth into. I am neither a killer or a victim as well. I am not the escapegoat or the cause of all your faults. Not a prisoner nor a person of true freedom. I am not able or disabled, though I am capable of many things on both sides of the coin. Neither am I trash to be tossed aside, nor am I the thing to be accepted just because. For all the things I’m not, it seems that none on this earth still can’t figure out what to call me. I have told and retold them until I turned blue. But with all the effort I have put into it, it has fallen on deaf ears and blind eyes. After all these years, hundreds, perhaps thousands, haven’t grasped what to call me. Maybe I shall try with you this last time to say what or who I am. Then maybe someone will finally understand what to call me. I am the flawed, the heart beating, soul-filled. I am a human being.
To be a true and pure and faithful evangelically zealous fundamentalist,
whether of good faith religions
or bad faith hatreds of other cultures and races and genders, etc.,
fascism and fundamentalism
are rooted in pre-linguistic literalism,
stories built from feelings of sacred orthodox senses
and secular notnot nonsenses,
But you should not need to be an anti-radical hater
to grow and nurture a rooted in fundamentals progressivist,
activist,
farmer,
colonizer,
missionary,
an over-zealous weed with monoculturing leadership intentions,
a xenophobic polyculture baiter,
or anti-pagan predator,
PostMillennial Crusader
for Christ or Allah
for Divine Totalitarianism or HateMongering Fascism,
for anyone or anything you truly believe
could become omnipotently healthy and sacred.
To become radical
requires going into pre-linguistic roots
of spirituality
as also embodied naturality.
To come from story-tellers and mentors
of the fundamentals for,
speakers and listeners to,
ecological parables
written in divine sunlight
and ultra-violet radiantly cosmic
octaved love-evoluting voice.
To become a patriotic loyalist
of and for,
by and through,
was and saw
We are not sufficiently acceptable,
not restorative agents for true justice and loyal peace,
not self or other optimizing ecopolitical outcome developers,
when we confuse patriotic with remaining prehistorically anti-matriotic,
anti-feminist WinWin Principles
of NonZero Sum Earth
as Fallen Eden
broken promise of Allah's ConJoining Paradise
of and for,
by and through,
saw and was
Polypathically polycultural (0)-Soul
nondualistic sacred through secular
multi-paradigmatically
developing cultures of sacred ecological health
which are also PostMillennial EcoPolitical CoOperatives
of and for
by and through
saw and was
This fundamentally sacred
radically secular
Prime Relational
bicameral as bilateral as binomial
You and Me
from the same co-incidental tragedy/notnot comedy
WinWin DoubleBound Appositional Tree
of (0)-SpaceTime
(0)-Tao RealTime
of and for
by and through
saw and was
Ego/Eco-Infinity.
River flows in desert,
Express roads in wilderness,
Bountiful harvest in exile,
Technological assignments to a master,
Make electrons flow in circuit(s).
Watery jokes in sadness,
Colourful muse in loneliness,
Faded depression inks happiness.
Yet, wisdom never relent its chase.
How circuit breakers save blue heaven!
Trances are loyal,
Than physical nature's monuments.
Logics are reasonable,
Than loyalist in temptation.
That's Lucy in the sky with diamond!
Let no right fight,
For left is at the corner.
If left keep calm real good;
Argument won't win discussion,
When cut-outs are well stationed.
Understanding to the listeners,
Knowledge to the speakers,
Wisdom to the readers,
Muse to the writers,
All works together for the best.
Black hoodie, black gloves and a black balaclava
Allegiances born of belligerent father
A council estate with yards full of tyres
A rucksack that’s laden with tin tacks and wires
Cars outside boozers where loyalist losers
Don’t spot the briefcase with time delay fuses
One man and his neighbour of different persuasions
Soldiers and ministers weighing equations
Each side will tear you apart with their bombs
Some will send ‘letters’ to where you are from
Some cite religion or national pride
Or family honour when taking a side
Orange and green the colours of choice
BBC using an imposter’s voice
Still the news media expresses surprise
When pubs, cars and trucks light up the skies
A town-centre nightclub to which people flock
Across the street came Messrs Browning and Glock
In hands now committed to unleash their guns
They fingered their triggers... and then there were nuns
***
[During ‘The Troubles’ in Northern Ireland, whilst many individuals were targeted due to their religious persuasion, targeted attacks on any particular religious institution were, seemingly, rare. A lengthy chat with Mr Google named two Catholic priests who were deliberately killed, but only one nun who was killed when she happened-on-by a bombing; she remains the only nun killed (albeit inadvertently) because of ‘The Troubles’. ‘And Then There Were Nuns’ simply prompts the question (to which I have no answer) what would a team of gunmen do next if a group of Nuns wandered into their ‘hit’?]
Do you stand for the queen and cheer for your team.
Just show me you will fight by my side.
Are you in my line up an integral part of my squad.
just show me you will fight by my side.
Do you defend right from wrong, cheer your team home.
I know you will fight by my side.
You always offer me an helping hand when I'm down.
I know you will fight by my side.
Do you defend me when others berate me.
You're the loyalist person I know.
When the chips are going down your always around.
You're the loyalist person I know.
Cheers Dad
comp entry wanted to put quatrain but don't rhythm same line not sure if that qualifys 21042016
Slavery is all over the world
The Filipinos are victims of slavery
We have been slaves by Spaniards
We have been slaves by Japanese
We have been slaves by Americans
Our government are fighting slavery
Poor people, we only have government
What if government is the one oppressing
What happen now, the left leaning
The yellow hardliners, the red loyalist
The Lower House, the Senate are united
In oppression, one in corruption, in united team
Oppressing the people, political persecution
Of Political enemies and peoples of faith
Politician have been blinded by money
Which money of the people, tax payers money
Mainstream media is now fostering fake news
The people are smelling silent dictatorship
The people are feeling silent Martial Law
Drugs, crimes and smuggling are proliferating
My country is going to be an anarchy
My country is going to the dogs
My country is going to the crocs
My people is in quandary right now
God, please intervene the affairs of my country, Philippines.
It was after the defeat at Camden,
in the fall of 1780,
British Major Patrick Ferguson
sought to exploit Britain’s victory.
To secure South Carolina’s countryside,
he marched his loyalist forces forward,
threatened the men beyond Appalachia,
said he would lay waste with fire and sword.
He believed that with Gates fast in retreat,
resistance in the south would soon fall,
but he’d not met the Overmountain Men,
and did not understand them at all.
Living on the edge of the wilderness,
they were a hardened and seasoned crew,
who had been fighting Indians for years,
and had defeated more than a few.
Isaac Shelby and John Sevier,
fresh from a small win at Musgrove’s Mill,
were not going to just let this threat pass,
that would have been much too bitter a pill.
A call was sent out for all to muster
at a place known as the Sycamore Shoals,
fourteen hundred militiamen afoot,
they all started off after their goal.
Word was that this Major Ferguson
marched fast to rejoin the British man force,
against such an army they couldn’t stand,
so they hurriedly traced Ferguson’s course.
Even put nine hundred men on horseback
so their enemy would not slip on by,
leaving five hundred patriots behind,
across that fair country did they fly.
Ferguson knew he was being pursued,
and made his camp atop of a low peak,
three hundred feet high with broad wooded slopes,
it seemed a secure place to rest and sleep.
So strong did he feel his position was
that he proclaimed, to calm all his men’s fears,
atop the hill they could hold forever,
no force on Earth would move him form here.
Such confidence had the man in his strength
that his lookouts sadly dropped the ball,
at three o’clock the patriots attacked,
the British men had not seen them at all.
The militiamen surrounded the hill,
following a loose and pre-approved plan,
moving and shooting like the Indians,
never out in the open would they stand.
To make things worse, the British forces had
muskets, best suited for open fields,
patriots carrier Kentucky rifles,
at two hundred yards their danger was real...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.