Long Metrical tale Poems
Long Metrical tale Poems. Below are the most popular long Metrical tale by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Metrical tale poems by poem length and keyword.
Pray, spare this man of a rare calibre,
Fine, let him prove how good he’s as singer.
Soon as Malhar was sung, rain cooled the breeze,
Leaves perked up to listen from nearby trees,
Beats of Mridang on own began to play,
Soon as Jal-Tarang joined musical fray,
Birds of feathers flocked in droves to listen,
The music silenced stray rattling gun.
Rain clouds curtailed their craving to thunder,
The moist soil released its fragrant wonder,
While rain cooled Nature was content to smile,
Silent so far, the birds now sang in style,
King Humayun’s mood turned from red to green,
With a reluctant smile that seemed nigh mean,
He set free seven thousand men he’d caught—
One thousand for octave’s each of the note.
Then ordered: in eighth note sing something new,
None present therein had any a clue,
Till today the music fraternity
Mused, and will till end of eternity….
The Eighth Note, can it be profound silence
Between melodies—music’s soul at once?
The Naad-Brahma, its echo eternal,
Sought by seekers from time immemorial!
____________________________________
Musings |12.06.2023| silence, music
Poet’s note: The background: In 1611 AD a Moghul courtier called Sikander Bin Mohamad wrote a historical account, Mirat-e- Sikanderi. The episode of this poem pertains to emperor Humayun’s battle of Mandu where he defeated Gujarat’s sultan Bahaddur Shah. He butchered many soldiers along with other people of that kingdom. When it came to one called Mia Manzu, the court musician of some repute, many pleaded to spare him, he being a good musician. Humayun asked him to sing and prove his prowess. The poem begins from there.
Let me tell you a story from the old wild-west;
Of a terrible lawman with a star on his vest.
His title was “Ranger”; not bound to a town
He studied the outlaws then hunted them down.
One long hot summer; played like a pawn
He’d failed to take down the man called “Big John”.
He was tired and thirsty, his mood like black jet
As he rode into Dodge his sights were still set
On Big John!
He stabled his horse, and checked out the saloon
‘cause he’d heard the big man liked to drink there at noon.
Through the wide swinging doors, he strolled to the back
His face as long as a wagon-wheel track.
The scowl on his face told me this man was risky,
But I was the bar keep, and he needed whiskey.
So I poured him a double in a clean mason jar
And slid it down deftly to the end of the bar.
He quaffed it and gave me a tip of his hat.
I thought it was over, except for the fact
That his mood was still dark, like rain in a flood,
I knew in my gut there was bound to be blood.
There in the corner; his back to the wall,
He waited with patience; said nothing at all.
Just stared at the space ‘bove the wide swingin’ doors,
His hands at his sides, drooping down toward the floor.
It was quarter past noon when the room darkened some,
Big John in the doorway; blocking the sun.
Two shots rang out from the man in the vest.
Two blood stains emerged on the big fella’s chest.
Big John just stood there; there in the door,
Then the glasses all rattled as John hit the floor.
Dry-gultched, like a fox at a watering hole
Big John was finished; so, likely his soul!
The old wanted poster said “Dead or Alive”.
They just didn’t care how Big John arrived!
The Ranger just smiled and sighed, “One more round!”
Then he gathered his pony and rode out of town.
May 9, 2017
*Image of Forgiveness by Pixabay.
Tale of the Forgiving Betold
Albeit a notable stretch
that stars wouldst a fairer
share of thee and sheath
thy warm expanse.
Sire, alack thy humble
servant beseech thee,
me Lord, for wouldst
thee taketh to mind
thoust faileth thee but
'tis once at the weest hour.
Shouldst thou beg
the goddesses and
gods forthwith 'tis
thy noble quest for
virtue sake that thou
mayest risk a stable
footing verily proved
thy acts of decency.
Pall's errant gift thee
a habilitating ward,
a silhouette soul, its
quaint steps for a
merciful fortitude.
To seize caring eyes
fortuitous event of
a chartreuse field
of wavery rushes
and vibrancy pell
in crystalline spring.
A dutiful life longing
begrudged in the
greens of Evermore,
mayhaps thoust dwelt
in the recesses of thy
bosoms for they hadst
possesseth thee so
willingly, that thoust
act gently.
Nay, nary an army,
soothly a herald of
dreams that unlade
trails ifsoe'er mingle
charmingly, napping
in cases, perchance
to claim and rescue
thyself and possibly
pretenders begone
and ne'er-do-wells
that causeth a toss
and twirl fortuitously
erelong into the tuck
of episodic twilight's
unraveling sepulchral.
Sparkled specks and a
Chaser to settle scores
natheless thou mentored
souls that dwarf a sea of
their gilded hearts.
Less of a challenge when
substance, and grit, amidst
the generous few whose
serendipitously perpetuates
the moment -- forthwith.
Suite melody be the appeal
in the case of forgiveness
for there is proper cause for
the bestowment allocation
gratuitously and without
delay.
Forbearance is the footing
lain the acts of forgiveness.
2022 August 23
So when the webbed-tide snares the lunars nether recesses in its glow casting shadows that arise among the craggs wedged beside some cliffs of common confirmed debris of the unnamed fallen heaps of mucked mired forgottned decay of worthless grime not meriting the struggles of a just reclaim promptly caused to fester including the residue of the reprehensibles whose lacking morals that from some particular decedent, intrusive spirit of Ne'ermere that steer souls to the steppes of the moors, where thou commands those hounds that wish to sever your sensitive skins and drain your spirit waters down that moat where your convictions will spark a lifetime of despair, honors the ambling of the blood moon of its wayward course of trailed afflictions that you wished and begged for death's swift visit for the determined inklings inscribed on petals of the columbine and their guarded secrets, steeped in the devil's brew of stirred concoctions meant for the hags of Ne'ermere and the warlocks of destruction and mayhem who pounces playfully on their prey of the misguided who are filled with disillusioned words that are as hollow as you, e'er stretching the imaginative liquified existence exposing a mirage of iniquities galvanizing its hold of treasured happenstance of certainties lost, fulfills a page of the intrepid who is but a shimmer presenting hope a hand of salvation gathered up in a smotherance and they'll all flicker away, anointing souls spared the vacuum of insignificance for doomsday is here bridging the channeled souls in their mortal state of decay of their tenous grasp of withered mass of fiberous veins where remnants of vigourous life succumbs to their true demise of the incredibly hideous and the indescribable now in the passage way between dying and death of their heinous acts of torturous screams bellowing throughout the chamberous pits of the unwanted dead where the lame, mute, and deaf search the living dead for their body parts, of severed limbs, eyes that hang out of the eyesockets, the unjointed tendons that flay about ever so freely, stenched air that festers while not only choking of whatever remians, seemingly an act of deceny, bestowing on the residue of assemblage from the former occupant, might be afforded an instantaneous journey into the sunrise of the...everlacking.
2019 September 18
What's the difference between a regenerative-revolutionary outcome
and an evolutionary process of gradual development?
It depends
whether you are looking for the baby
or listening to the new mom.
But,
if you listen and empathize with both
communing together,
then probably none.
If 2 times 2 is 4
because each 2 is either or
rather than both and,
then why is 1 times 1 not
not the same 1,
and also 2?
If me and you grow two
because each me and you is either me
or not you
yet also both-and me as appositional to you,
then are we not each 1,
and also both part of 2,
as one appositive (nondual) co-defining pair?
When 1
gives birth to another 1,
then this is a revolutionary event
for the newer 1
and an evolutionary process
for the original 1
of any both/and Non-oppositionally gruesome
appositional 2-sum.
*Image of Lovers Night by Pinterest.
Tale of The Night Movers
Hail, a phantom moon
traversing its cloaked
chambered recesses
of her prevalent crown.
Unspool gently and host
minding eyes immersed
within your ethereal pull
exacting Cupid's pursuit
impresses dependably.
Slay suspicious initiatives
yond hints of their riddled
hearts pausing serenity
and tryst capers a fullness
until dawning climbs to a
whispering.
Anticipatory confidences
secure immature adoration,
gift a sense of a certain fling,
for shared planned proof that
sensorial alliance is immortal.
Abiding hearts, minds, and
souls and that its permanence
lingers in all three entities to
be truly entrusted versus all
hardships that dare.
Any challenge purposeth
distraction swayed to disrupt
sanctioned harmony and
impose their nightly fight and
an easy win over the weak.
Lovers supposed union is but
a temporal existence, and
Cupid's aim slumbered apiece,
held in stasis as hostages host
for thoughts to fester.
A mire of serendipity and wished
upon measures of advice, out
from this unlit pullback of the
unimaginative lost, but hail to
the victorious and glorious.
Righteous grit encountering the
opaque influences of damaging
desires to hoodwink the candid
that wore down night's ethical
battle and fortuitous claim.
Justified inevitableness outlasts
twilight's hold by conquering the
gloaming tripped-upon dawn's
call ends nightmarish corps to
collapse.
Cherubs reward a star's chariot
ascent who condones a handheld
coursing and are hereby blessed
with a kiss of permanence and a
dreamt descent.
2022 July 30
To her kin Catherine was I in flesh married
To my young beloved Mary was my soul wed
Too long that eve at my play we all three tarried
And all of six hours later was my soulmate dead.
In my aching arms where now lifeless she did lay
Catherine calmly the obsequies did prepare
Where I did but reflect in grief upon that play
"Is She My Wife?" which thought I found so hard to bear.
From her rich dark tresses I plucked a precious lock
To be ever after kept, held close to my breast
Her ring on my finger her death struggled to mock
While oft in my sad heart her spirit I addressed.
Without her who was so young,beautiful and good
The magic of family began soon to fade
Her memory my mind nourished better than food
The fine weeds did I cherish of my once fair maid.
My broken heart in my empty life for her will sigh
But Catherine sadly less and less means to me
Whene'er death comes,with my Mary I'll surely lie
And from my earthbound wife will I be ever free.
Within lofty daily trials, life always in check
gaze at self-made walls; stare up at the swinging bulb.
Chastising of milestones, beaten within submission
artful weaving of whispers waking from a deeper sleep.
Questioned emotions on ice; travel within a dark compass
where in the hell am I; queries shuffle on downward.
Dissected voices in a breeze; breathless inhales unshaken
blowing kisses to a blue moon; poison barbs on a comet's tail.
Blown away with red leaves; tinge of orange and yellows
fog clears in a rising sun; shaking off that amnesia haze.
Eyes opening very slowly; hazy gaze focuses on shadows
white sheet covering the cold body; icy shallow breathing now.
Straps bind loosely on wrists; I can't seem to move or speak
getting easier to force a breath; strength rises for the very weak.
Heroin grasped my soul again; pitted freak with rotted flesh,
forgotten on the morgue table; please, just needle me to death.
*Image of Moon's Image by Pixabay.
VIDEO: I Remember You by Kui Lee
AUDIO: Poem read
Tale Of Love's Challenge
Hail the phantom moon that traverses the murky chambered recesses of a remnant domain. Unspool gently for favorite eyes that cast within your magical lure that exacts Cupid's aim be true and that hearts pierced, binding young love a sense of certain amour, for longing lips be given purposeful assurance that receptive union is immortalized within their hearts, minds, and souls and that its permanence lingers in all three entities to be rightfully empowered against all adversities that dares a challenge for their sole reason is but to disrupt sanctioned harmony and impose their nightly fight and win over the weak, feebled young lovers that their supposed union is but of a temporal existence, and being as such, Cupid's aim slumbered apiece and held in stasis for thoughts to fester in a mire of uncertainties and wished upon efforts of guidance away from this dark retreat of the unimaged lost, but yeah to the victors and glory be theirs for their arduous hold facing a righteous fortitude to hold against the dark forces of adverse desires to mislead the truthful who have worn out the night in an ethical battle and claim the hearts, minds, and souls, for their love is a justified certainty that outlast twilight's hold for he tripped upon the dawn and that his kingdom of darkness is no more and ends the nightmare and its legions of doom. Rewards of the vanquishers who favor a hand and are gifted a kiss of permanence and a justifiable reality descent from a dream.
2019 September 12
I was taking out my trash can
When I thought I saw a worm
But I realized it was a caterpillar
When the thing began to squirm
It crawled across the cobblestone
And made its way onto the grass
But when my puppy went to do his thing
It wound up on its a...
My puppy tried to get it off
By rolling in the dirt
He rolled so fast, came off his a...
And it landed on my shirt
It crawled onto my collar
Then, it crawled into my hair
So, I shuck my head and flung it off
And it flew into the air
A bird upon my roof-top
Caught the 'pillar in mid-flight
And fed it to his chickadees
Before they tweeted... a sweet Good Night!
Metrical Tale Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Hilo Poet
1/4/2023