Long Napoleon Poems
Long Napoleon Poems. Below are the most popular long Napoleon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Napoleon poems by poem length and keyword.
My mother told me years ago.
That I was a king by right.
I didn't really understand,
So I looked it up that night.
It turns out some famous people,
Napoleon, queen Christina and lord Byron,
Not forgetting Alexander the Great.
They were all born "with a veil"
All caulbearers with the hand of fate.
Sailors would pay lots of money
For a prized veil,for their lucky charm.
It was said,it would stop them from drowning,
Keeping them safe from harm.
My mother said I was born with a caul,
And good luck will give me a hand.
With some of the things that have happened in my life,
Now I understand.
Of warriors many – - - daughters – sons!
Was it not ‘yours’ – a song was sung?
Did you cherish them – spit - or shun?
Did you help - support - or leave them hung?
Too soon forgotten - simply ‘gone’ -
so many fallen - leaving One:
Stalin, Churchill, - - Napoleon,
Hussein, Grant, Harry Truman.
Bush, Hitler, Washington,
Lincoln, Roosevelt, and Genghis Khan.
Please! In your mind continue on!
Forgotten billions dead – but remembering One
Of which controlled the arrows and guns.
Scratching – Wondering – What was won . . .?
I was Born (I think) - - - ‘Confusions’ Son!
Politics is smart on one side
but it's half luck for another
when you win it's hazard
when you lost it's sourish
I think so much Pirulin
I got the first mush
before giving to each other.
Who doesn't cry, doesn't breastfeed
still said the song
and Sir Jorge made a fool
he wanted to face the dragon
the beast was so naughty
took it from a mandolin
and went fishing in Nippon.
All that shines is gold
says the law of my backlands
there the only shines so much
as golden brown
Sivuca who was an alchemist
he added harmonica with pifa
placed Sinata on the ground.
Slowly you go far
it was a communist motto
in Russian and England
and very futuristic lotto
Ze Lezin serious goat
wrote the package insert
and became capitalist.
Better two birds in hand
than two birds flying
best three lucky fart
than gas butane methane
so thought Napoleon
when he fell on all fours
in a serene afternoon...!
Prussia and the other states are moving like a juggernaut.
Each day, our forces are falling to the onslaught.
The German states and cities are united as one.
We have been no match for them since the fighting had begun.
We have all pledged our allegiance to our Emperor Napoleon.
However, in the early battles, our forces became undone.
Here we are in September of 1870.
Uneasiness in Europe has resulted in hostility.
It seems Europe’s biggest bullies had to fight it out.
The attack on Worth has resulted in a rout.
The Prussians are moving south, and we are next to fight.
Strasbourg’s defenses have been bombarded day and night.
Just across the Rhine River, we see their fortifications.
The civilians have been evacuated by Swiss delegations.
We have been ordered to defend to the last man.
However, our Emperor has been captured at Sedan.
This indicates that there is no relief in sight.
General Ulrich has ordered we make our stand and fight.
The Bishop of Strasbourg has pleaded to no avail.
It is only a matter of time before our defenses fail.
Dear guys, is confidence a personality trait?,
No it is a skill that can be acquired or cultivated, It is an inner knowledge that you are capable,
Believe in yourself and your abilities please, Our aim in life is not merely to live,
But we have to thrive success in our life, The success is determined by the confidence, Believe confidence, you are half way to success, With confidence we have won the race of life, If we have no confidence,we are twice defeated, Confidence skill may be learned or practised, Nothing can be done without self- confidence, Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled on St.Elba, It was impossible for him to escape from the island, He believed his hope and self -confidence, Finally he escaped and ruled France for a hundred days, Alexander, the great had overconfidence in his life, He wanted to establish a universal Kingdom, His technique was purely a self -help method, That taught us how to use our mind and body, Be like the Phoenix, an immortal bird, It symbolises life life after the death, We must have the ability to overcome impossibilities, Arise, awoke and not stop till the goal is reached.
I was born into a war
I was born into a war
I Was born into this war
And I couldn’t even talk
I didn’t know how to walk
I hit the ground surviving
Heavy fire, Heavy losses
Broken will broken compass
On death ground
Death behind me
Death ahead of me
Surrounded No space to retreat
No way home
This is no way to live
Its no way to go
The enemy was within
No secrets no strategy
No manoeuvres No being clever
This is not go This is not chess
I am no Hannibal I am no Scipio
I am no Ceaser I no Napoleon
I am no general I am no emperor
I am no conqueror
I don’t make the decisions
Just obedience to violence
Mano a mano
Running low on ammo
Not a moment to breathe
Blood all over the camo
Screams and limbs flying
Bodies piling, blood is flowing
The flies are multiplying
The maggots are feasting
And its only just starting
what is certain
I will die here
I will die at the end
I don’t get to make it out ahead
I will be dead
I have not given up but I know the reaper
He’s a friend
I have seen him hugging my brothers
I have seen him show spite
I have seen him show mercy
he is the angel of destiny
Ordaining us to be saints
Or giving swords to be martyr’s
The pain is mounting
And I am out of cocaine
The medics are out of morphine
And its already too late for me
I am bleeding , badly wounded
Intestines are hanging
One arm is missing
I am being brave
But heart can only take me so far
Fighting to the end feeling woozy
I can’t hear a thing I think I am dying
I can’t just lay down and die
I can’t just lay down to die
I-can’t let them just win
I can’t just stop.
You hate my country but I can’t hate you
they’ll call me racist cus that’s what they do
you fly your flag what a horrible sight
and when you protest probably fight
I post a status caged in overnight
us Brits are welcoming far too polite
as you’re an illegal you have your rights
5 star hotels and a taxi if you’d like
but who are you kidding
you think England’s done
are you Napoleon conquering all
antisemitic starting world wars
cause they wrote us off once
Britannia roared
send an Armada you’ll sink to the floor
fly your Luftwaffe until you’re no more
cause they say we’ve fallen
they’ve said it before!
We haven’t started
are you feeling sure?
DNA of a Viking, a Roman, a Celt,
Britannia’s stirring…… The Finest yet dealt!
I was Indiana, riding with rifle pointing ahead,
then Cassanova, lost count of how many in my bed,
as Sitting Bull, I looked down directing my braves,
I passed under an arch, giving one of Cleopatra's waves.
Tried to change history - it wasn't Custer's last stand,
as Columbus, I called America India, got mixed up with the land,
we couldn't have Captain Cook murdered by a bunch of savages,
Moses didn't take any tablets - just lots of stone pages.
We knew that Nelson was gay when he said: 'Kiss me Hardy,'
and Napoleon was shunted off to St. Helena reluctantly,
I prevented 'The Maid of Orle'ans' from being burnt at the stake,
Fagin asked me to pick pockets - it was more than I could take.
Then back to the beginning - maybe Tutenkamen would do,
which exotic personage could you emulate if it was you?
Written: June 04, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Brian Strand
*****************
Crude oil squats between my ribs
as a codependent nebula
asking if we can “talk around our relationship.”
It purrs, leaks, and files an HR complaint
with the Department of Internal Oceans
for “hostile hydration practices.”
It vibrates in my chest
like a supertanker with performance anxiety
and no access to therapy.
The apple in my hand declares a recession mid-bite,
Its seeds unionize,
the core files for bankruptcy,
and the stem starts a podcast about “resilience.”
I chew once,
And suddenly I’m liable
for three galaxies' worth of debt
and one very crestfallen auditor threat.
While the fridge appears geopolitical,
The milk launches a coup, cynical.
The yogurt is sanctioned for “fermenting unrest.”
and the butter — Napoleon of refrigeration —
amasses troops behind the pickles.
While margarine runs for office — for nickels,
on a platform of “No More Warmth.”
When I walk, the floorboards groan
under global markets
and interest rates that adjust themselves —
Whenever I breathe.
They creak like ancient gods
who regret outsourcing creation
to primates with credit cards.
My shadow unionizes,
demands cosmic hazard pay
and a dental plan,
then takes unauthorized smoke breaks
in a separate galaxy.
Every heartbeat slaps like a tanker hull
wondering why anyone trusted apes
with fire, feelings,
or anything that comes in a bottle.
And still — the Strait wears my skin,
the world wears my worry like a borrowed coat —
And I wear the whole mess
two sizes too small,
like a thrift-store spacesuit
missing its helmet.
So I laugh.
Because if I don’t,
the milk wins —
and the apple
will schedule another meeting —
That should’ve been an email.
She smiles, and you believe.
She whispers, and you disarm.
Her affection is not affection,
but a weapon—
a stratagem dressed in silk.
Napoleon bent kingdoms to his will,
but could not bend Josephine.
Why?
Because he needed her more than she ever needed him.
The Emperor of Europe,
writing letters of desperate longing
while she gave herself to lesser men in Paris.
The conqueror of nations,
reduced to a supplicant,
a beggar at the altar of false love.
And you, men,
you repeat his error.
You kneel,
you beg for crumbs of attention
from women who do not need you,
who do not hunger for you,
but for the danger you cannot give.
A monster does not beg.
The monster does not kneel.
He is hungry, yes,
but not for her.
He hungers for conquest,
for power,
for the pursuit of destiny.
He devours the world,
not illusions spun from lies.
Understand this:
Love is the great deception,
the trick by which the species survives.
It seduces men into weakness,
into surrender.
And in this war,
the civilized man always loses.
For what does woman truly seek?
Not kindness, not predictability, not reason—
but danger,
the edge of chaos,
the taste of unpredictability.
Yet you, civilized men,
you offer her safety,
routine,
obedience—
and then lament when she betrays you.
You call it love.
I call it war.
And in war, only the ruthless endure.