Long Merchants Poems
Long Merchants Poems. Below are the most popular long Merchants by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Merchants poems by poem length and keyword.
This age we live in
with no moral absolute
standards no longer exist
now we bear its fruit
Fewer couples no longer marry
live in is the thing
not thinking of the consequences
such living will bring
So often there's no commitment
after a few months, they split up
feeling the heartbreak that comes
affected by its bitter cup
Do they not know a better way?
a way of purity and joy
set up by God himself
for His word is no toy
God has promised a day
when all he'll call to account
to answer every thought and act
This is surely no doubt
The sexual revolution has brought disaster
torn lives and broken hearts
come to the creator that created sex
His blueprint fits all the missing parts
( ' After this I saw another angel coming down from heaven, having great authority, and the earth was made bright with his glory. And he called out with a mighty voice,
“Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great!
She has become a dwelling place for demons,
a haunt for every unclean spirit,
a haunt for every unclean bird,
a haunt for every unclean and detestable beast.
For all nations have drunk
the wine of the passion of her sexual immorality,
and the kings of the earth have committed immorality with her,
and the merchants of the earth have grown rich from the power of her luxurious living.”
Then I heard another voice from heaven saying,
“Come out of her, my people,
lest you take part in her sins,
lest you share in her plagues;
for her sins are heaped high as heaven,
and God has remembered her iniquities.)
(Revelation 18:1-5 ESV)
AH GREET OH
Ah greet oh, you masters of stealth,
In your cloaks of deception, nightly amassing wealth.
With a handshake & a nod, in shadowy corners you trade,
Your morals as slippery as the last meal you made.4
Ah greet oh, you architects of towering falsehoods,
Building facades beneath the watchful woods.
For every loophole, a trumpet blares,
While honesty quietly fades, lost in its snares.8
Ah greet oh, pageants of the plastic ideal,
Where beauty’s a creation, crafted with zeal.
From cheeks to curves, you sculpt & you shape,
Chasing a form that’s bought, then escapes.¹²
To the saviors of souls, standing in clinics so bright,
With choices so heavy, they tremble in fright.
A nod to your bravery, in the dimmest of light,
Balancing wrongs, asserting what’s right.¹6
Ah greet oh, merchants of our daily fears,
Profiting from the living, exploiting our tears.
Your names carved in shadows & deals in the night,
Leaving behind a mark, indelible & the hood in fright²°
Leaders in agbada, whose truths twist and sway,
Promises fly like kites, on the wind they play.
I applaud your dance, so delicate and fine,
Waltzing on dreams, on that thin silver line.²4
I greet you all, with my two hands raised high,
I see your shadow games, where you all lie.
For in each shadowed act and every part,
Lies a glimmer of hope, perhaps a fresh start.²8
To change, to reshape, to rethink your place,
In this grand decor, in this vast space.
As we dance and weave, in both light and night,
May our actions find a path toward what’s right.³²
May we chuckle at our folly, at this grand charade,
And greet each new dawn, unafraid, unfrayed.
In jest & in truth, through all when we come & go,
To you, to me, to us, ah greet oh! ³6
VICK MANUEL POETRY{VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?4th March 2024.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
O Ursula, crowned not by grace, but by shadows,
You wear the EU like a robe stitched with silence.
You spoke of democracy with polished lips,
Yet your fingers typed millions into secret deals,
Your phone — the vault of truth — wiped clean
Before justice could knock.
Once a daughter of public trust,
Now a ghost in marble halls.
While Europe bleeds beneath inflation’s blade,
You sip diplomacy with warlords in tailored suits,
Feeding fires in foreign lands,
As your own people starve at home.
Tell us, how does one delete a continent’s pain?
How many messages must vanish
Before integrity becomes a myth?
You hoard power like it is your inheritance,
But this Europe was not born for empires
Built on contracts carved in smoke.
You preach democracy,
Then silence the streets with policy.
You speak of peace,
Yet shake hands with bombs behind curtains.
We, the people, see your theatre —
Gilded corruption played on a Brussels stage.
Madam, this is not a throne — it is a scaffold.
Step down, if there is a shred of honour left.
Let not your legacy be famine and flames,
Let it not be another Rome that forgot its people.
We do not ask for perfection —
We ask for truth.
For leadership without masks.
For a Europe led not by merchants of war,
But by those who still feel hunger in their bones.
Your crown is cracked.
The whispers grow louder.
And history — history is watching.
I can still recall the look upon His face
Each thought still makes me go to that enchanting place
The vernal air was floral sweet and honey breezed
We roamed along Venice's zigzagged lanes and cobbled streets
On our secret rendezvous,We hugged affectionately under pastel gothic galleries
Greeted by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed roast coffee beans
Strolling along the pigeon-filled piazza San Marco
We wandered hand in hand,in the serenissima ancient floating land
Street musicians played their flutes.as We sat on a roof-top wooden terrace
We glanced at merchants sell hand-blown murano glass
by the picturesque Doge's palace
We ate a snack , then walked away towards the old opera house
which now has risen from its ashes.
We sauntered forward through little alleys
from where He bought me ,a gold painted venetian mask
To my surprise ,He had another gift,a wrapped up scarlet sheer laced basque
I peered at him through my dark lashes,He raised his left brow and flashed a smile
Expressed his charm in playful ways,in a flirtatious endearing style.
Boarded at last on a black gondola,cruised the lagoon and the canals
A few light kisses,a few soft brushes,waiting the bell's toll whilst in his arms
There we lay in waiting beneath the bridge of sighs
We sealed our kiss and promised lips,to the harmonic sound of chimes
He leaned on me,I welcomed Him,our spirits been entwined
Above,the sky has changed its colour,I watched the sun set in his eyes
All I am,I gave to him,my enduring heart- His sacred shrine
All that He is He gave to me in once upon a time
Not for the contest,but thanks for the 'Lovemaking in an ancient place contest,inspiration'.
This post is inspired by Ancient Venice and the tale of 'The Bridge Of Sighs'
The tale goes-If you kiss your loved one with the bell's toll of St,Mark's Basilica,
at sunset,beneath the bridge of sighs,the couple seals their love forever.
There is another tale to it,a sad one,but preferred to share the happy one : )
The silver king{1} banded with the dark queen{2},
United under the all-powerful one{3}.
Off to war, of armies of four{4},
together with the warrior son{5}.
Battle was fierce, many were slain;
The wounded wound-up in the history books{6}.
The militant{7} family crusaded on,
Striking fear and bringing heavy-hearted looks.
Victory was assured, no doubt to be had.
Until the mighty three{8},
Heads of armies be...
Rose to crush the combative family!
The military may trump the house of royals{9},
the farmhands{10}, and those of trades{11}.
But aces rule high, and the army spread thin{12},
So goes the game of Spades.
1 King of Spades: second highest ranking card in the game of Spades
2 Queen of Spades
3 Ace of Spades: highest trump card
4 The four suits in a deck of cards: Spades=military, Hearts=royals, Diamonds=merchants and traders, Clubs=farmhands and peasants
5 Jack of Spades
6 After each trick in spades, the resulting four cards are collectively known as a book.
7 suit of Spades
8 The aces of Clubs, Diamonds, and Hearts
9suit of Hearts
10 suit of Clubs
11 suit of Diamonds
12 All of the trump cards (the spades) are spread out amongst the four players through the randomness of the shuffle.
They told me,
"Turn around,
see that black cat
stalking you".
It knows your name
It knows your shame
It's come to claim
your black-jack soul
back in black tonight.
She's Queen of darkness
pawing at the borders
until moonlight bleeds,
in the black kingdom
that daylight never sees.
Prophets sold salvation,
Merchants sold me gold.
Love sold me promises
carved ice-cold in stone.
My dreams come in iron collars,
rusted shut with time.
That black cat keeps the keys
so I'm hunting on her trail.
So I turn, around...
Let that black cat stalk me.
Let her eyes unlock me.
Let her claws unchain me.
Let me free...
LET ME FREE!
Follow the shine!
When heavens disappear.
Follow the shine!
There's nothing left to fear.
The lion breaks your sneer.
The tiger wakes desire.
The leopard stalks the darkness.
The panther lights the fire.
The black cat steals black aces
deals another life.
The black cat knows....
She walks between the worlds,
where broken spirits roam.
She never leaves....
the lost all alone.
She never leaves...
the lonely, on their own.
The tiger broke his collar.
The lion smashed his crown.
The panther flew from darkness
instead of backing down.
The leopard swapped white spots—
for dark red glowing eyes.
The black cat watched them all
beneath forgotten skies.
Follow the shine!
When the last star dies.
Follow the shine!
When the daylight lies,
Every black cat shadow...
is a doorway in disguise.
Every ending sheds a skin.
Every death ignites its rise.
The black cat knows...
The black cat knows...
The black cat knows..
Its darkness
.....IS THE DAWN.
When I go outside and see the homeless, I see one thing,
There are no homeless Hispanics and yet,
There is a Hispanic Panic amongst those who are paranoid
From the abuelitas selling taquitos to artists hawking cartoon portraits, street vendors were hustling long before the pandemic. But they are being forced to adjust even more due to the downturn caused by COVID-19.
Mexican merchants are struggling to keep their
Food Truck small businesses, LA Street Vendor’s, are not pan-handlers
For goodness’ sake, buy KEEP-SAKES!
In an era where more of our workforce is in the informal economy with zero protections and safety nets for emergencies
LA Street Vendor Campaign demonstrates how local solutions
can scale up and reach thousands of precarious workers
across Los Angeles and beyond.
The sky appears to be the only ceiling,
As this bazaar stalls fair weather in exchange.
And while sales are all important, a lot of
Begging & bartering seems popular to interchange.
Admittedly, my fascination is endless, as
The diversity & creativity search my soul.
While I roam about to find novel & new treasures,
Makes me think I've been stuck too long in a black hole.
Whether it's the open air or leisurely pace, the
Pleasure of shopping fills me beyond just common sense.
Since one can easily connect with these artisans
And merchants, creating bonds at no ones expense.
The NRA has decided
?That the best solution to global problem?
Of rampant violence and crime everywhere
Is for the rest of the world?
To become like the U.S.
?Where anyone can buy a gun
?As an armed society
is a polite society’
And so the President
is about to announce?
A global campaign
against gun control restrictions?
As these restrictions
are an undue burden?
On the rights
of the US arms manufactures
To sell their guns
everywhere in the world?
As everyone wants
what we have to sell?
The best weapons in the world
Instead of trying to limit the damage?
That unrestricted gun sales
?Have done to the U.S.
Our President,
our great leader?
Wants to sell more guns?
Everywhere in the world
And there are eager buyers
Lining up around the world
?Eager to buy the best guns
?The world has ever seen
We want to export?
The gun madness?
That has infected our society?
Leaving behind
so many dead bodies
The dead were not consulted?
For they remain dead?
They do not vote?
They have no voice
For the guns silenced
them for good
?just as the guns intended
?Just doing
their gun thing after all
it is the buddha nature
of guns to kill people
Humanity has evolved?
From stones to arrows?
to biological chemical weapons,
guns, missiles and nuclear bombs
And the U.S.
?While proclaiming itself?
A champion of Human Rights
Remains nothing but a country
?Of greedy, powerful corporate gun runners?
Merchants of mass death
note: this may be too political and in your face but I don't care. I have had enough of this nonsense. We must stop the carnage in our streets! That’s my two cents worth and I am sticking to my guns pun very much intended.
We are what we eat—
yet the bread on our tables
has turned to ash in the mouth.
Once, the poor were the healthiest of us all,
nourished by fields that knew no poison,
fed by rivers that flowed without a price.
The earth gave freely,
and our bodies sang with light.
But then came the merchants—
Western capitalism draped in silver lies,
turning soil to factory,
turning harvest to chemical,
turning hunger into profit.
Food is no longer grown to heal us—
it is engineered to bind us,
to keep us shivering in low vibrations,
trapped in the invisible chains of fear.
The Catholic priest once whispered to me,
“If the land where you live
cannot feed you,
then it is not worth the breath of staying.”
Yet here we stand—
on land that no longer feeds us,
our gardens stolen,
our seeds patented,
our hands empty.
They tell us to buy what we once grew,
water now comes in plastic,
and freedom comes with a barcode.
Even the saints of greed wear the mask of heroes—
Bill Gates calls himself the savior of the poor,
while feeding the world
with the slow poison of his science.
Hear me—
your days are numbered.
Humanity stirs in its sleep,
and we will reclaim
the right to plant, to drink, to eat, to live.
Food is thought,
food is spirit,
food is the first medicine—
and you have turned it
into a weapon
to rot the mind,
to weaken the heart,
to enslave the soul.
Healthy food now sits on high shelves,
priced like gold,
while the masses break bread with the devil,
unknowingly.
Tell me—
is this the hand of man,
or the breath of the devil himself?