Long Pincer Poems
Long Pincer Poems. Below are the most popular long Pincer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pincer poems by poem length and keyword.
Squadron assembled
Trojans and droids
Three sisters their target
Null to void
Atmosphere entered
Red to grey glow
As we near earths terrain
Red rivers flow
Cities on fire
Civilisation of pyres
No daylight sensed
Extinguished, by these darkened pariah's
The droids report back
These sisters three
In New York spotted
Near the Statue of Liberty
The decision is made
To take them out
To salvage the earth
Return to the devout
Kestrel fighters
With missiles primed
Head to the target
Mission define
On contact of hit
The heads explode
Filled with the souls
Of past earths abode
It has to take
The souls of the free
To rid these pariahs
For all eternity
In formation swoop
Waves of three
Triangular pincer
Missiles release
The first to fall
Kristy Krull
Two direct hits
This devout cull
Ale-era the Apocalypse
From the freedom torch falls
All three strike home
Liberty Island calls
Illyanna
The darkened leader
Whom the sisters follow
Pariah feeder
In Central Park
Her power failing
Kestrels strike
The darkened flailing
The last entity
In blackened spew
Illyanna
Downed by the souls so true
It took many many years
For the deathly red to fade
For the earth to return
To it's previous glade
From the Jungles of Jupiter
A cry was heard
Mother earth is dying
Devout is our word
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy4.php
He called your nation a 'fiction'
wishing you chaos and pain.
Like a savage grizzly intent on
your utter destruction.
He thought, so naively, that
you will buckle under his missiles' rain
triggering a new biblical exodus.
with a leader weak and tenuous
playing the NATO blame game,
harboring ambition of Soviet reclaim;
took his cues from Hitler's pincer attack,
backed by his convoy of artillery and tank;
hedging his bets on a Russian blitzkrieg
with little worries of his soldiers' fatigue.
Must watch Chaplin's Great Dictator
begging mercy from the creator.
You've now taught him a new word, Quagmire
familiar with his army's cold campfire.
his generals Know now the price of invading
a heroic nation praised the world over as outstanding;
your valor and sacrifice,
your blood and honor
turning history's dice.
Glory to Ukraine, to your
steadfastness and resolve,
to your triumph in this bloody brawl.
BELOW AND ABOVE THE SEAS SURF FACE
Gone are the fishers pulling Lugs; the Gull its gizzard rusty hooked;
and barbed, limit its shelled Limpet supply as blown sand creeps;
smart gulls dunk and dip, clean away dry sand grit, clear their voices;
some gulls with salted eyes sing in the briny choir, in the sea salted air.
Cackle is not birdsong ! Choked thirst, on this new digital barren beach.
Crabs below do not sleep, scuttle quickly to pincer cuttle fish inside out.
Lurking above swirls a leaden sky, pressing heavy on a mirage horizon line;
Its distantly trapped! Sunk in long lost rigging, discarded twine tangled nets,
buoyant on the flotsam and jetsam of a weeded bed, stalked by big Congers.
The tide rattled brittle bleached bones, of well anchored nameless smugglers;
who had the timeless tide current wrong, unsaved by oilskin clothed priests.
Breathing smugglers, long shipwrecked in the “ale house” of sin staggering;
his mind baptises their lifeless sinning smiles; many bound drowned.
While plying their trade, in a tirade coined and jewelled, greedy and needy;
there are many hemp baskets, nets twisted around boney blooded fingers,
torn sails billow caught in brackets, and pulleys, long ropes snake about.
Chains with stains of rust, crush filleted bones eaten by black cats and rats;
old Teachers wander the shore of wave words, they fall over, their own hands.
Long gone are the fishers families; they are food now, for long stretched lugs,
Bubbling below !
Cadre, thou art quincurion.
Five pointed star says sight, scion.
One in the center, mighty strong.
Four on the sides to greet the throng.
Clamber right o'er that wall, burglar.
Prize in thy eyes, shoot past the par.
Combination lock, face of safe.
O machine gunner, time to strafe.
Quinnat, move thy force in quinnet?
Pincer formation wins the bet.
However, salmon, wedge has wings.
Beware the spinneret. It stings.
Coalacanth, in the glassy lake.
Life is a rogue with thirst to slake?
Turmoil and trial? Fresh ocean blue?
Red rabbit, river, run straight through.
Quoddity, haunt the quadlibet?
Placard, plinth alabaster. Yet:
Relevance, where do you stake claim?
Pertinent, prosper. Fling, O flame.
Entelechy, thy entalpy.
Reason, heat up and sing in me!
Tangle, my thought-spark! Lightning falls!
Blistering broadsides by the balls!
Salve of diviner, vision weird.
Cel animation leered and jeered.
Alien skies and faces strange.
Jagged pulsation, range the change.
Electric shock, fire furious eyes.
Bring back the bolt that fastest flies.
Whirlpool, hum and whir. Broken bow.
Whippoorwill, swallow, undertow.
Woke up jumped off the couch and
put on a mask
Used in order to survive another average day
Sat on the stairs lit up and smoked
enough to blow a mind and descend
into a heady hazy trance
Oh boy John said to Paul
I just watching the news today
Witnessed both a declaration and a
timely reminder to the everyman
To in no uncertain terms know thy station
know thy place
Within the unwritten small print of the law
Opening Gambit Pincer movement
King Trump's pawn
Check mate
The rich will never see the inside of a court
Otherwise what is the point of being powerful
and wealthy
If it can not pervert the rule of law
The judge and jury have long already
been picked and bought
Why call him Andy
Why not Scott
At very least that rhymes with free
And at a mere cost of 12 Million pieces of
slippery mercury worthless currency
Adorned with his sad tragic mother's face
and royal family crest all across
Matter's not of that I am sure to him he
obviously has a lot and won't go or be left
without
It's no more than tangible proof of yet
another breach of public trust
I only rather wish it was not just another
mistaken reported case of fake news
than simply just another example of
A day in the life
Of the opposing lives of what both
the rich and everyman have to deal with
And the glaringly senseless point of counting
potholes whatsoever however small or
insignificant they appear in the
1st place
If there is absolutely never any desire
or intention of ever actually trying to fix
or repairing them at all
Or is that in actual fact indeed the
case and point being mistakenly overlooked
Far more joy and fun is to be garnished
from rubbing people's noses in and seeing
the look upon disheartened faces
When the final edict and not guilty
verdict is read out in astonishment
As the years passed as their darkened grip grew
The white right began their searching pursue
Armies they, to the black attacked
Fearing nothing but good, for freedom they react
Legions of Hades descended on mother earth
Decrying her beauty and saviour so worth
Fortresses they built, their base for campaign
For they revelled to he, forever to remain
But unknown to the dark, white disciples remained strong
For they will fight for their lands, for they belong
In masses they approach this darkened keep
Their intention to deliver plight as their light gently weeps
Hour after hour as the battle rages on
Pincer movements never dent this darkened brawn
Suddenly, in the afternoon sun, clouds so dark, is evils triumph in stride
Ebony wings many miles wide, above this theatre in gentle glide
Circling as they soar, below cobalt steel clouds
Golden Eagles so regal, their glides resonate loud
Natures fury awakens as she joins in the cause
Thunder and lightning crashes on their darkened laws
Flames rage through their keep whilst the ground below shakes
Bringing walls and towers down against an redding orange drape
Cries of death resonate through the acrid black air
Whilst the armies of the right in salute stand and stare
These legions from Hades from our world, now gone
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/dark-3.php
Bipedal Insects
I hate and hate and hate.
I want to stop others from being happy.
How dare they be safe, and well fed?
How dare they be patriotic?
How dare they be American?
A plague upon the land.
Termites gather at the base of the tree.
One to the other they chatter.
“We can do this.”
“We can do this.”
“We can do this.”
The first bite is bitter tasting.
The second is even worse.
It is the full flavor of truth.
A strange and unknown taste to most,
if not all of the ill minded,
Hard-shelled, individuals that have no concept of hope.
“Add sauce…” they yelled as one.
“We can do this.”
The chant became louder.
Passers by that normally would not notice…
now took time to listen.
“We can do this.” (clicking pincer noises, the sounds of lies and deceit made real)
“Do what?” Some might ask, if they could see, but they could not.
Blinded by facts right in front of them.
The long time between school and life, leaves gaps.
These openings, others fill willingly with dark thoughts…
Controlling… all.
Crush the bugs, don’t listen to the words.
They are nothing but pests to the mighty tree.
Be strong be faithful.
God shine his mighty Light, the son…
The lobster smiled at Carlsen on the other side of the table,
never played one before, appropriate his name was Klawvostic,
they say that Carlsen waits for mistakes, there were none,
Carlsen smirked, if I kill him, first I'm supposed to stun.
Once, an insect had fallen from the greasy hair of an opponent,
he had picked up a rook and painstakingly crushed it to death,
Norwegians have no qualms, that's why he was the best,
it would take more than a crustacean and all the rest.
The lobster opted for the crab's gambit, which was refused,
not the first time that he'd created a Zulu pincer he'd been accused;
the game ground along, Carlsen imagined a good shelling,
but who would crack first - there was no way of telling.
Finally, Carlsen reluctantly just had to offer a draw,
the lobster grinned, if that was possible and held out a claw.
Destination
A historical place
But these Gettysburg landings
A place of race
The signals our droids
To the Kestrels they return
For their cargo on board
To them will be, infinitive burn
Over Pennsylvanian lands
These USAF ships fly
To rid these demons
From you and i
Gettysburg in approach
Their radar responds
Three sisters located
For the earth and beyond
Kristy Krull
On McPherson's ridge
Leaving her carnage
Ending life's bridge
Illyanna
The deposed leader
For her past theatre's
No longer evils creator
Apocalypse Ale-era
Their new Queen
Serving in her evil
Earth's hell Halloween
The Kestrels close in
Illyanna is first
As their missile strikes home
In obliteration burst
Pilots cheer
In their intercom
Freedom prevails
United at home
The next attack
Kristy's caught on the ridge
Again we hit
Her body to fridge
But the Queen is our target
As it has to be
To rid her dominance
Free the land of the free
Radar declares
Her might, but distress
For three Kestrels have named
Freedoms Gettysburg address
In pincer movement
Like theatres before
Three missiles strike
Like never before
Their impacts are different
But their outcomes the same
To free our planet
And return to the sane
Miracles will happen
The water from Lourdes
Led to the demise of these three
Our planet to be cured
For many days and months
Around the table they sat
No longer saying
We'll do this, we'll do that
The structure of talks
Began round the world
Everyone listened
None absurd
Their Ritual in the Forest followed by The Three Events >
Angels and Demons - The Finale Act 1.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy4.php
Out Flanking The Phalanx
Roman Soldiers like to drink
So I sent them out to battle Hannibal
A simple mission not for sober men
First to the Cannae Battle, 216 BC with lots of sun and debauchery
Then on to Tribia
It came to pass with sun on every side
More so for Hannibal and his forces who survived the battle
With tactics honored to this day on how to slay your foe
I told my men don’t move too slow
Perhaps I should have said don’t go
If you want to build a proper wedge the echelon wedge is perfect
Add the double envelopment and pincer movements to seal the deal
No postage needed
With those three tactics Hannibal left my men for dead or bleeding
In any event, defeated
When at Tribia, I ordered my men to clean at Lake Trasemine (remembering that they stink) and to wait for war
A consummate debacle by the Roman war machine unfolded
Legions flanked, lined up to die
Utilizing only brute force they marched in phalanx manner
Over 80 thousand strong, with breath and body odor to over power.
(They had no showers)
Annihilation got in the way of their success
Blinded by the sun and intellect designs of Hannibal
The light of day came by the compliments of nature
Utilized by Hannibal at no extra fee to blind his enemy
But charged them to the lake to trap the Roman forces there
In a Carthaginian standpoint
What started as a laundry day and cleaning of the roman forces
Soon became a blood bath on the shore
My legions defeated by a masterpiece of battle tactics
No Romans….. No more….
The locals commented at the sight
Dying is no way to make a living, they’d say
They were happy to see the fighting end
And get back to fishing once again
I would have promised all my men a trip to Disney world
If they had won and if it existed
But they died so didn't miss it
Too bad they ever enlisted
6/18/14 Roman Legion contest