Long Masses Poems
Long Masses Poems. Below are the most popular long Masses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Masses poems by poem length and keyword.
Is it true,
That which our eyes show us?
Is reality shaped as such
Or,
Have we been framed
To see things as such?
What if reality was something else
Something worse
Something shadowy
Gruesome
As gruesome as dreamless nights are
As gruesome as the silence of Gods
When we have spent hours praying!
What if none of it all is true
What if we are mere grains of sands
Lost in the blink of Existence's eyes?
Pray, I have had enough of this falsity
I wish to be there where the Gods are,
In flesh and blood,
In spirit and in power,
Ruling over their kingdom
With both gentleness and might!
Living is simply following the masses
As they had followed those who did so before them
Simply because they had been guided by some words of faith
Left behind in some books known to be holy!
I simply wish to be there where Truth lies
Where Existence does not veil itself
Where Eternity is not simply a work of art
There,
Where I shall feel like
I belong!
Masses forming classes boarding:
Corral Gates of slaughter, hauling, sorting- human beings-aborting
our innocent(sons and daughters)
Bishops Queens and Cannon Fodder-
their crop of sheep sacrifice to image of the Beast
es cargo for the Elite Machine; of
Underground in plain site, lined
in Streets of Gold of their El Dorado deep-sites.
Our lives for sell, sold.
Titanic-transport of souls clandestine sport of spoil
Moonlight witches pissing on fertile soil
Mid-night
Their platform of unsee able points of light inconceivable blight
A ship of fools run ary
By heretics
making waves rushing blood-*** noise Vampires sucking dry
Kendrick and Cyborg sex ploys
Buoys and curls pinging toys waving
Bye to your rights
While your eyes are sewn tight
As celebrity whores say "come get me boys"
and the message boards are alight
Why are you so dead inside?
River Styx is taking you for a ride?
You'd be at 666 Flags if Apathy was water, water on the brain slide
The Final Frontier
The Motive is clear
You've been contacted by Demons
By the "Art of the Deal"
In the guise of...Behind the sky's
glove...chemical lines drawn by mechanical sky d(r)oves, to obscure the happenings above;writers on the storm exhausting their lies and Political heroic acts of altruistic "Love" the "Dragonborn." The Kingdom of Mourn.
A Game of thrones a game of bones non_chalantly thrown.
Hung in the balance, drawn and quartered by AI Phalanx algorithm.
Clouding the mind.
Not seeing flashing signs-
"*** poison kind ...of malice-flashing in neon."
Hiding behind crown Masons-ring brotherhood blood and chalice.
Unplugged radar, telethon tears.
Honing your sites ip and your fears, cook and rinse till juices run clear.
Till you are stuck in the hole with Alice.
Why are you so dead inside?
River Styx is taking you for a ride?
You'd be at 666 Flags if Apathy was water, water on the brain slide
Hide behind your tools
Crafty handiwork to snoop
On the people for the people
Of who?
Of the Media, spoonfed search-the Wickedpedia
Omit what doesn't fit, the narrative
and feed- -retrofit the needia
Face condoms up when what you
are touching is as unclean, as Cardi D and the itinerary of the beast, riding another beast,
biometrics and vaccine
I cannot get my head around this road;
at first, it brings me nothing but despair:
A swollen stream whose banks have overflowed,
with flotsam strewn in eddies everywhere.
The bodas bob and weave a lethal dance,
their fares seem unaware or unconcerned.
Disaster’s held at bay by a swift glance;
safe passage on this road is skill hard-earned.
The teeming masses meet to sell their wares,
to greet each other and take on the day;
They start with scarcely more than worldly cares,
and yet the Lord sustains the ones who pray.
He comes along beside them on this way;
Emmaus can be found not far ahead.
Their hearts still burn at what he has to say;
His words call forth his children from the dead.
And so I look upon this road with hope;
it truly is the same as where I roam.
Bwerenga leads to nowhere for the lost,
but those who walk with Him find their way home.
----------
After a second trip to Uganda a few years ago. Bwerenga is a small community between Kampala and Lake Victoria, and the road is unbelievably dangerous due
to traffic, bandits, potholes, and the teeming masses who use it.
A boda is a motorcycle used as a taxi, and it is not uncommon to see one with
three people, or two and a goat, or any number of other unusual sights.
Wake up America and hear the call.
We brave the weary winds of war.
Fought in our back yards and streets.
We view our neighbors as perilous adversaries.
Pulled blindly asunder by the typical forces.
The affluent efforts to sway the masses.
We succumb to their obvious divisive tactics.
To bind us with self-serving lies.
Such examples are permanently etched in time.
We decline education from the written past.
Therefore we are destined to replicate same.
Stuck on a carousel of inevitable fate.
Leaving our nation with a dire future.
Heft your ballot and drop your arms.
Save what is left of our Democracy.
United We Stand, Divided We WILL FALL.
One must act with sufficient tact.
The shadow on my heart,
Crept silent.
And with swift recompense,
embraced and debased me.
How long will we accept
needless hate and strife ?
A mother with child lie dead in the street.
With murderous intent,
the bullets spent.
Missed their mark.
Now tomorrow is forever dark.
One less happy grin.
One less day to begin.
Two fewer seats to share.
One more family torn beyond repair.
One less book to buy.
On that lonely street,
I hear the children cry.
One less mountain to climb.
One less stone to grind.
One more hardship to bare.
One more arrow to fly.
There are no reasons why,
Only pain and anger
rise to the surface.
No one here on Earth, is without purpose
And when the riots begin,
the huddled masses speak
TRUTH TO POWER !
In these, the darkest of hours,
we hold a candle up to light.
And remember those who
were lost in the fight.
How long will it be
till everyone can see
the gift we ALL were given ?
THIS LIFE
Its fleeting.
Each one of us has been dreaming
for a day when,
everyone will be seen for the light in their soul,
And NOT the color of their skin.
Prisms faced in circle squares
Forces preeminence geometrics spheres
Watts the matter scientific wares
I see have no measurement
I feel numbers and letters
I see not letters and numbers
Just keep composing, and developing
I see squares circles in square pegs
Shelters for the freed
and prisons for the lead
I feel circles in squares, triangles in rectangles
I see whom am I to judge
I see have no measurement
I see numbers and letters
I feel letters and numbers
I see just keep composing, and developing
Squares circles in square pegs
Sciences masses circumspect -preeminence
Am I a mathematical
What math whiz genius came up with this?
5/8/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
As i look from the shore
An incredible sight
A wave so long
Off tremendous height
Two vessels,
A ship, and a boat
While the ship sinks
The boat floats
Soon to be engulfed
By this awesome wave
With a mass like this
No one will be saved
For in the clouds
Warriors and sailors look down
To share their terror
Witnessing their drown
Time passes
Watery theatre calms
As hours before
Water masses slammed
Our powerful oceans
And formidable seas
Engulf more souls
Ignoring their pleas
To drift and decay
Roaming and beached
The might of our water mass
Will never be preached
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss2.php
Through Chasms of Cliff
None tried to climb on Cliff
of rocky hill too steep.
The peak left abandoned.
Stones are stable unturned.
Coarse rough rigid rock.
All around stubborn block.
Gentle breeze blowed in gay.
Sun greeting with bright ray.
Feral glossy grasses
All wild in green masses.
Monotony knew no bound.
Silence perfect profound.
Solitude all around
Neither noise nor sound.
Melted heart of mountain.
Through Chasms oozed fountain.
Mountain now in pleasure
Got fountain as treasure.
01/25/22
C- Form Couplet
Contest by La Constance France
The afternoon was spent calulating
what would be misfortune to millions
as he calulated the winnings from
the online " Hoss lottree Game"
the odds were in his favor and
nanometers in the visible spectrum
wave lengths and frequencies
inline turbine which flows
he stood at the bbq pit a master with
a spatula in his hand bragging about
his odds and days later we found him right and rich!
He won and won big, from there he created
The Capstone Grill and invested in
Stemcell Meat production. Helping to create
a culture were affordalie meat
would be sold to masses of people
as an alternative to animal meat and protiens.
From the book Music Lover
Songs by Chancey
Beset by bitter guilt, he treads the street.
From cheerless eyes spring teardrops he can’t quell.
His head is lowered should by chance he meet
a glance from one who knows his guise too well.
He can’t escape his ever-present shame.
It’s risen in him, like the moon this night,
and so he pumps his arms and runs. . . aflame
with pain. He loathes himself, and that’s his plight.
The masses fall behind him now. The beach
has summoned him, and in the sky a storm
of oscillating wings appears. . .the screech
of thousands clears his mind. Grey bodies swarm
around him. He is found! His spirit lulls.
His refuge is the city of the gulls.
December 27, 2015
For the Deep and Dark Poetry Contest of Broken Wings