Long Masters Poems
Long Masters Poems. Below are the most popular long Masters by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Masters poems by poem length and keyword.
Southwest of Inverness
A stretch of water called "Loch Ness"
It runs along The Great Glen Fault
Freshwater deep, not a tinge of salt
But this legendary loch
Has a secret to share
In its murky depths
Is their a monsters lair?
St Columbus is believed to have seen
The traits of this monster, in its particular mean
The place where he stayed, the locals in mourn
A swimmer chased by this water born
Dragged to the deep of this peat stained loch
A family now mourn their loss
An aid of the Saint, on his masters so
Enters the loch, as he swims with the flow
Not long in, something chases his wake
His master rises and with a cross he makes
Go no further
Do not touch the man
Go back at once
From that lair you come
The beast recedes like natures tide
This Saintly man had him cast aside
In our modern world 1934
The monster again came to the fore
This time captured on film
Is it a her, or is it a him
All i can say is we leave it alone
Its the lochs monster so let it roam
If it does exist, its for natures bless
This awesome of beasts
Monster of the Ness
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland.php
As I scream out your name I fall
In darkness I have labored scantly clad in sack cloth and ashes
Wait for me I won't be long
My time is nearly up
Crimson moons in rivers by the shore break my silence
I scream out your name alone in empty rooms
Hold me in my dreams
Arenas of wild killers all fell before my might
In your name I breathe
Juniper with my tea
Mint cookies delight me much
Her name is forgotten all this time lost chasing shadows in the dark
Chained to the whispers of the lost skulls now long since dust
Do their whispers still sing out to you?
Wake me when the king has arrived is he nearly here now?
I am sworn to listen for the Lambs horn calling us up
Quake with fear when the trump sounds the end has arrived
Autumn and my Buddy will they meet me there on The Mount Of Olives by the Masters side? Questioning the reason to wait 2,000 years for a wedding feast.
Almost time for the third day to begin and the rising of The Son of Man. Lamb gets ready to break that seal and let our kingdom be revealed.
The human creatures dancing
To the rhythms of blood and flesh
Shrieks and sobs of soft babies
Pain, agony and misery
Years yell the same story
Written in tears and ruins
Hearts turned in to stones
Homes turned in to smoke
Hitting the candid souls
Bitten by chill and hunger
Destined to live in
Desolation and buried hope
The cruel laugh of booming guns
Turning breath in to blaze
The rampage and destruction
Mocking the innocent masses
Falling on deaf ears
Of political lords and masters
Years come and go
Pain, agony and doom continues
Injustice and endless wait
Is the order of the day
But the world reels as usual
Leaving the distressed to destiny
Where is “Happy New Year”?
My heart weeps
The cruel demons and brutes
Celebrating their success of
Shedding the blood for nothing
Turning the years in to tyranny
Determined not to learn
From the buds, bees and breeze
The art of harmony and peace
The hoards of heartless beasts
Thriving on human suffering
But, the Father sleeps
5-7-5
Tragedy striking
all the children are dying-
A master prevailed!
4-5-4
Tragedy strikes
Children are dying-
Masters prevail!
7/6/2017
Kobayashi Issa as a child was cared for by his grandmother. Due to the death of his mother. When his grandmother passed he was left lonely and moody. Not too long after his father sent him on is way to make a life of his own. During this time there was a span of 10 yrs of his life that is unknown. From there he wrote a journal titled "Last Days of Issa's Father". He was also misfortuned with the loss of all his children on top of a fire destroying his home all separate occurrences. Issa wrote over 20,000 haiku's in his life and died November 19, 1827.
My childhood started to end when it’s power began to show.
With a trash bag and shovel, into the forest we go.
My first, father buried under a tree.
Watching and realizing, one day it will be me.
Every dog since then, holding them as others push plungers,
So that my best friends, wouldn’t have to die alone with strangers.
At twenty, in a parlor, lays a friend’s five year old brother,
Seeing God in the eyes of that child’s mother.
I can still see her standing beside his little coffin.
Now with kids of my own, I think of her often.
Understanding faith and how it will get you thru,
And respecting other’s choices on just what is true.
The family’s new patriarchs and matriarchs have buried the old.
After two generations, memories start to grow cold.
As my shadow grips me tighter with pain and in mirror.
With every day’s night, in my bed, it snuggles nearer.
On the units of my profession, souls lay in procession.
Crossing many shadows in a day with acts of compassion.
Peace at the hour of sleep with Ambien,
Theirs to keep until waking up to the truth again.
Wiping the tears that run down their face,
When words can’t give what is in an embrace.
Timed by the critical numbers in lab values,
Giving the Artisan no rest from monuments and statues.
Morphine when breathing becomes a battle,
As their disappearing shadow becomes a rattle.
Soon their eyes are frozen in a blank stare.
Auscultating a heartbeat that is no longer there.
Masters give illusions of sleep in a viewing.
In mediums and dreams they are still living.
Headlights of touched souls, in parades of cars,
Belies among Sartre’s roles, the only one that is truly ours?
=====================================
Contest: Any Sad Poem
Finalized: 11.03.15
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placed: 2nd
Poem Written: 12.10.14
...Finally, another came in,
a tall man who was a dark shade,
and I admit, at first I thought
that we might just see a replay.
But he was dressed in a fine suit,
with a brief-case full of his work,
he had helped build seven bridges,
was skill in moving around earth,
had taken lead on two projects,
both under budget and on time,
Masters degree from a tech school,
truly this man was quite a find.
He’s still working with us today,
is now my senior engineer,
and is making high six figures,
with his projects I need not fear.
They’re solid, strong, and built to last,
bring the public much benefit,
skin color just doesn’t matter
when you build yourself on merit.
No Explanation! (I)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Please don't ask me how deeply it hurt!
Her sun shone so bright, even the shadows were burning!
No Explanation! (II)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Please don't ask me how it happened!
She didn't bind me, nor did I free myself.
Alone
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Why are you sad that she goes on alone, Faraz?
After all, you said yourself that she was unique!
Separation
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Faraz, if it were easy to be apart,
would Angels have to separate body from soul?
Time
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
What if my face has more wrinkles than yours?
I am merely well-worn by Time!
Ahmad Faraz [1931-2008], born Syed Ahmad Shah, was a Pakistani poet generally considered to be one of the greatest modern Urdu poets. Faraz was a poet accessible to ordinary readers due to his “fine but simple style of writing.” Ethnically a Hindkowan, he studied Persian and Urdu at Edwards College, then at Peshawar University, where he became a lecturer after receiving his Masters. During his time in college, Faiz Ahmad Faiz and Ali Sardar Jafri impressed him and became influences on his own work. Faraz was born in Kohat, Pakistan to Syed Muhammad Shah Barq. In an interview he recalled how his father once bought clothes for him and his brother on Eid. He didn't like the clothes meant for him, preferring the ones given to his elder brother. This lead him to write his first couplet:
Laye hain sab ke liye kapre sale se (He brought clothes for everybody from the sale)
Laye hain hamare liye kambal jail se (For me he brought a blanket from jail)
Faraz was an outspoken critic of Pakistan’s military dictatorship, saying, “My conscience will not forgive me if I remain a silent spectator of the sad happenings around us. The least I can do is to let the dictatorship know where it stands in the eyes of the concerned citizens whose fundamental rights have been usurped. I ... refuse to associate myself in any way with the regime ..."
Keywords/Tags: Ahmad Faraz, Pakistani, Urdu, Persian, translation, couplets, love, sun, sad, unique, separation, angels, body, soul, mrburdu
They claimed they freed us
But if chains instead of whips
Was your idea of freedom
We'd rather be dead
At least then we wouldn't have to deal with your racism
All you did was remove the sun
Put is in solitary confinement
Psychologically tortured us
If this is your idea of an apology
We'd hate to see the solution
Was reparations segregation
Or was it martyrdom
You demand our forgiveness
But what have you done
To earn salvation
Especially when that's not what you want
You just want control
You just want to be a hero
That is not propaganda we are falling for
Telling you 'no'
Gives us generational power
Knowing we won't be your puppets no more
You're not our masters anymore
The taste of victory is the taste of no remorse
Our ancestors ran so we could walk
You'll know no peace until you acknowledge your wrongs
So when you demand forgiveness
We will scream hell no
How dare you still try to control
After everything you've done
The way you treated our ancestors
The way you continue to treat us right now
How dare you insult our intelligence
Did you really think we are that gullible
You erase our history
You steal our culture
You eradicate our people
And you expect us to be quiet
And be your soldiers
To do what you want
Then take all the credit
And reap the rewards
We know your system and we can't be bought
So now we'll say it one more time
You dont have our forgiveness But you will pay for your crimes
for the sake of a flag
insanity is obvious
in humans
for we are masters
of own crimes
we created injustice
while we fight for justice
we created poverty
while we fight to eradicate
it
we are the curse of
all our own deformities
we chose the cross
we bear
but sadly we never
chose the tears
from our eyes
we are so perfect
but yet we still
can't change the face
in the mirror
little humans
mini gods
now wants to fight
nature
always raising a flag
above the world
across the globe
to rule to war
to impose
for the sake of
of this flag
a lot of my mates
has gone so quick
the survival
got a new hard life
sow pains
a new story
all just
for the sake of a flag
Masters of Architecture
The air heavy with scent of August blossom
A warm and still day indeed!
Sitting by the lakeside
Watching fishes dance in the water
A twittering in the trees
Then captivated my attention
Above was a party of beautiful birds
Singing in the orange tree
I remember a cool day in January
When I stumbled in the realm of birdlife
About their intricate domed nest
It was in a gorse bush about half a mile down the lake
Both the male and the female
Brought building materials into the nest
This was about four feet from the ground
They are amazing architects!
Imagine the busy birds
Piecing in lichen,
Animal hair and cobwebs
Leaves tightly clutched with beaks
The oval-shaped domed nest is ready
With door at the top
Their elaborate building,
The best thing your eyes could behold