Long Millennium Poems
Long Millennium Poems. Below are the most popular long Millennium by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Millennium poems by poem length and keyword.
Compiled by human writers over a period of more than one millennium,
The Bible was written by men under the influence of a divine medium,
Having as its theme, Jesus - the author of the plan of salvation,
Its message is relevant to men and women of every tribe and nation.
Skeptics and scoffers have tried to dismiss it as a work of fiction,
And scholars and rulers have conspired to bring about its extinction,
Yet the Bible though ancient remains as relevant as ever,
With an influence on humanity that no power on earth can sever.
From Genesis to Revelation its messages all agree,
This is because it was inspired by the Mysterious Three,
Within its pages no contradiction is to be found,
For its content by a common theme is bound.
Where else can such amazing prophecies be found,
Which grasp the attention and leave readers spellbound,
Making believers of skeptics all the world around,
With its power to transform and to confound.
For years many questioned its accuracy when speaking of history,
But the validity of its content is now being revealed by archaeology,
Time and again the truth of the Bible has been proven,
By scholars and scientists whom to doubt were previously given.
At one time the scholars believed and taught that the earth was flat,
And as far as they were concerned, this was just a matter of fact,
They laughed when the Bible spoke of the earth as being round,
But in the end it is the teaching of the Bible that was accurate and sound.
The Bible has had a profound and pervasive effect on human culture,
Influencing science, art, music, legal systems, language, and sculpture,
Wherever in the world you look, you cannot escape the power of this Book,
But desiring to get rid of the Bible, our sages have its teachings forsook.
My counsel to all the citizens of this world, is to open your mind and take a good look,
And if you are honest, you’ll have to conclude, that the Bible is indeed a unique book.
For in its pages God’s plan of salvation for humanity is found,
To escape the end of earth's history and live with him in eternity safe and sound.
Along the blood road there are thousands of ponds.
Carved out by American bombs.
A futile attempt to blast communism
into the next millennium.
It'll take a hundred years to remove
unexploded ordinances.
Children mistake them for shiny toys.
Every day is black Christmas for children
who play along the blood road.
The metal from war doesn't go to waste.
The skin of bombs is made into skiffs.
That putter around the delta mist.
Some taking in round-eyed tourists...
Who're eager to see how a poor communist lives.
More often than not they'll be invited into a hut
provided a humble, heartfelt meal.
Sometimes by a widowed one-armed matriarch.
Today, the blood road is being devoured by jungle.
Natives still slave over rice paddies.
Just like they have for a thousand years.
And will for a thousand years more.
Some of the bomb ponds hold trapped fish
where villagers toss hopeful nets...
and who said war is good for nothing?
A long, long time ago, when I was young,
on watching skaters move on Poets’ Pond,
(some gliding with great skill, some taking falls).
I donned skates of my own and I began. . .
Around, around I went, and in my mind,
a lilting rhythm came and said to me:
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON.
But I was youthful, restless, uninspired. . .
I left that pond and put my skates away,
to take a path removed from poetry.
Ten years became a decade, then ten more,
and suddenly, a new millennium!
My muse, now heartened, came to me and brought
those skates, which for so long, I had not used.
A bit unsure, I stood beside that pond.
The skates seemed more attractive now. They gleamed!
And something else - new thoughts came to my mind!
The things I’d dreamed and lost; the things I’d gained
came flooding over me; then said my muse -
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON. . .
I noticed all around me other souls
who often showed completely different styles!
Some glided with elaborate smooth moves
while others whirled and danced with arabesques.
The artists leapt and made me catch my breath,
another group did spins to make me laugh.
Some moved, at times, with jolts, and some fell down,
but rarely did a one of them fall out!
For all of them shared passion for one thing -
and so to Poets’ Pond we’d all been drawn.
Go ON and ON and ON and ON and ON,
my sweet muse whispered, and I could not stop.
I tried to model those who skated free,
for some of them made circles all around
me, and I dearly wished that I could be
among that group, glean popularity!
But all I really know and like to do
is move to my own beat. Iambic skates
are those that fit me best. No world-class star
I’ll ever be in poetry’s new world,
but ON I’ll go - and ON and ON and ON. .
Marvellous Monika Madam
Millennium, asylum of powerful persons in school.
One of the inspiring personalities in its tool
Is Monika madam with her luring qualities skillful:
Smile, courage, oratory adroitness beautiful.
Full of compassion, knowledge, craft and rule
For betterment of the institution in whirlpool.
She strives always in her own Millennium yule,
Helps problems disappear quickly like fuel.
With keen observation picks out a dirty fool
Punishes with care, keeping self-esteem tool
At hand. A silent workaholic vice principal
Is never seen in vicinity. A hardworking cool.
She hates any deleterious, putrid person's drool;
She is the third who touched my mind in school,
And turned my negativity into assured babool.
Ever smiling, grinning, joyful lady with wonderful
Charming face like Punam, with a simper cool.
In life's windy winter is like a safeguarding wool
Increases warmth, coziness, comfort after school.
With Seema, Sushil, Jaimin, Hardik, Amit and Kekul
Creating wonders with her experience and example.
She touched me when I cried in knee deep trouble
With myself alone - a afflicting, agonizing pool.
Wishing god to create safest path for such cool,
Confident, cheerful, substantial, decisive wool.
Millennium, asylum of powerful persons in school.
shaking off
the stagnation
of winter’s hold
ivory snow m e l t s
nourishing Gaia’s soul
jump-starting
millennium-old cycles...
birdsong brings
the dawn of a new season
salmon streams
of wispy clouds
streak crystal-clear skies..
whilst early morning
dewdrops glisten
on opening spring buds~
a silken zephyr cascades
across saline waters
mingling with the
scent of freshly
cut grass in warm breezes...
buttery daffodils cluster
creating nature’s bouquets~
rebirth resounding,
hope coursing through
every molecule
of oxygen
I didn’t get on with my neighbour next
Door, he didn’t like me being happy
I’ll turn you into a mouse he said or a rat
Or perhaps a dog, or a skunk or a cat,
Fancy that, he is no magician, just a man.
I looked up at the clouds, rain came down
Landed on my lawn,
Each drop
Went plop!
I obviously drifted, I want to be an ant
I shouted at the neighbour,
And then I awoke
Well my neighbour turned me into an ant,
This is what happened.
Hey, watch out with that shoe whatever
You do, my neighbour walked around
with an ant spray,
Better not get in his way,
Horrible ant, he muttered, you are a pest
Sprays me, puts garden poison
Near my favorite rose
Not minding me,
And continues to water the garden
With his hose
I will drown, I’ll die,
I felt tiny, vulnerable and angry,
Made friends with the ant army general
Hear this he said in an authoritarian voice,
Our revenge will show
Ants will backfire at your evil sprays
And careless human ways,
We will multiply and grow big,
So big, that over man we will tower,
And expose our intelligent ant super-power,
Ants will run this planet,
And we will eat our own weak kind,
Engrave that in your mind.
Our anti human army, is organized,
Intelligent and fearless, and there
Are masses of us, never ending,
Ferocious and unbending.
We will be so huge,
Soldiers and more army ant soldiers.
And delightedly let off our fuse.
I froze.
I crawled to the grumpy old man
I begged him to make me human
Again, and promised him
And that I would refrain
And never deign
To show a happy face, and so
Once more human, I told him
Of the evil intention of
Billions of soldier ants,
Who would eradicate man and plants.
Not at this time, in this millennium,
Said grumpy, I kind of like you now,
Great job, you know their plot
Together we’ll eradicate the lot!
10/7/12
---------------------
There is a multitude around the world preparing for God’s Kingdom
And there is one dark enmity preparing as well
Combatting this powerful being’s influence and persistence
Is like going against a strong ocean current during a blistery storm
Satan the devil has blinded the world
How then can we help others see the light?
God reveals through the Word something unsettling
He reveals that there will be many readily embracing
The very enemy himself
Be aware of the darkness and its devices that destruct
Many will fail to realize who is the hero
Turning to the very one that will tear them apart
There will be baggage in the millennium
The multitude will have the authority to teach
To take away the blinds from the clouded, deceived eyes
Of billions
We continue on now
We take action now
For the sake of all of those now and onwards
*inspired by John Goodwin*
The Emerald City
Tales of long ago, many a tall story told
When the people spoke so vibrantly bold
Whispers of treasures of emeralds and gold
Hidden away, lost, a kings ransom to behold
Far away, somewhere lost in a dense jungle land
Guarded by a lost, ghostly, savage warrior band
Prepared for a millennium to defend, fight and stand
Silent swift death comes from ancient weapons in hand
Pathway to riches, a treacherous one
For all the emeralds and gold to be won
Will be the spoils to some fortune son
Perhaps a kings ransom, share for none
Countless perils awaits for any bold, foolhardy man
Many fallen lost souls of some obscure absent clan
In all the fickle lost schemes of many a forfeited plan
For there will never be a road to riches for any man
Long ago, daring tales of a lost Emerald City, so I’m told
Speaking of the riches to this very day, treasures so bold
To the gullible, still being sold by the alluring lies of lost gold
Somewhere lost forevermore, in the desires for all to behold
“WHY?”
“Why?”
A question I never really got an answer to most of the time,
And each time I’m left questioning if my action was a crime,
Why do we do so much for the people who don’t even give us the bare minimum?
And then we get hurt but still love them for even up to a millennium,
How can a three letter word give so much life and meaning?
Most times rather than always the answer we get is quite deceiving,
Why is it so hard to get over that one person?
We give ourselves time in the hope of healing only for the pain to worsen.
“Why?”
I believe there’s a reason for everything,
But then again, not everything needs to be given a reason,
So I’m trapped again, treating my mind to be like a prison,
Why do all my efforts always seem to go to nothing but waste,
And then people are so quick to say “She was careless and did it in a haste”
If only they knew the wars I fought within me,
Maybe just maybe a voice will hear and answer to my plea,
Then I might have just looked forward to the person that I am supposed to be,
“Why?”
Why do I let my insecurities speak louder than my reality,
Everyone around me is so confident it makes me feel like an abnormality,
It’s one question but with a thousand of reasons,
Enough reasons to save that one overly suicidal friend,
Enough reasons to fix that friendship that didn’t have to come to an end,
So to me it’s not just a silly little question,
To me it’s more like a truth to every man’s intention,
Every time we speak just know “why?” is a question I’m forever going to mention.
My Fair Lady Lidja--disquiet--sigh
Limit thine opinions, my Lord Miltrose,
Thy intent fails midst tardily shadows
Albeit findeth tis aid satisfy
Ahh! My Lord Sir Gilroy, tis nice surprise
Twill thine fair milieu idle pitched moist lips
Delivery thrills with a smile post scripts
Admittedly the id did simplify
A lady said the incident eclipse
Ships neither sink nor swim in tranquil Springs
Flights robins and whipper-o-willow wings'
Claims to an anointing gift rectify
Blessings of an innocent child ... heartstrings
Mildly midst millennium ... a voice sings ...
“My Lord’s-in-waiting, beseech thy favor
an ear and harken of woven words will
of a lifetime breathes I, here and now,
True Lord in Waiting in time and place
for us to be … somewhere, someplace,
… for all time."