Long Plotted Poems
Long Plotted Poems. Below are the most popular long Plotted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Plotted poems by poem length and keyword.
They have carried me to the slaughter house and butchered me mercilessly. They
have believed what they have done is in the name of righteousness. So therefore,
their hearts feel no remorse for my slain soul. Before my execution, they tried to trap
me with lies, maze of deceptions and plots, but Jehovah rescued me. Jehovah
provided a means of escape for me; nevertheless, my pursuers were relentless.
They had plotted, hunt and irradiated. My assassins prevailed - they have
conquered and killed an innocent me. I had tried to show them that I was never an
enemy, but hatred had consumed their hearts, so they murdered me.
The Christmas Story
A decree was sent throughout the land of Judea
by Caesar Augustus that all must return to their town
of origin for the census and the paying of taxes to Rome.
Besmirched by others, shunned by kin,
Mary and Joseph sojourned to Bethlehem, Judea,
with the angel of the Lord watching over them.
And Mary, being in the throes of childbirth,
had Joseph deliver “Emmanuel” into the world.
In the firmament, a host of angels sang,
and a messenger in the glory of God that shone
appeared to shepherds with the good news,
who then left their flocks to seek out the miracle.
They found the lissome mother in repose,
nursing the baby in the inn’s stable.
Finished, Mary laid the Saviour in a manger,
and the shepherds rejoiced and praised God
for His favour in keeping His “Messiah” promise,
words Mary treasured and pondered in her heart.
And a celestial body shining brighter than most
was seen by wise men in foreign lands
who set off on a journey to worship the Lord
with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
For it was written: “For out of you [Bethlehem, in the land of Judah]
will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.”
Somewhere in the night, a fallen angel lurked
with pinion wings clipped to walk the earth,
and instilled evil in the heart of King Herod,
who then plotted to kill Jesus. But the angel of the Lord
warned Joseph in a dream to flee with Mary and the baby to Egypt!
After Herod’s death, the family returned to Galilee.
***
References:
1 Isaiah 7:14 and Isaiah 9:6.
2 Matthew 1:18-2:23 and Luke 2:1-20.
3 Micah 5:2 (NIV).
I knew I would grow up to do something.
Not sure what it was, but suspected I was a somebody.
Under my freckles and my stand up at attention hair.
I could not say this, for it would have been boastful.
And in my childhood home, boastful was ungodly.
So I kept myself secret, and plotted what I would do.
When I escaped the place where compliments were not issued.
Where you had to put people down, not up.
Where being called idiot and stupid was a regular thing.
I did not think I was an idiot, but I was not totally sure.
Part of me believed I could be a somebody.
All I needed was a chance.
I did not speak of it, for that would have been bragging.
And we did not brag.
We put ourselves down, not up.
But I felt strongly I would escape and believe in me out loud someday.
And I did.
Venice, the daughter of the sea
Winding paths, waterways or cobblestones roads
Rulers of the renaissance, noblemen would be
Her navy full of conquests, her triumphs all would see
From nobility rose, a woman fair
Her life a whirlwind, with her share of despair
Banished from Venice, for daring to speak
Her desires and wit, did many a man seek
The golden rose the pope did give
As she fled to Florence, so young and deceived
Her strength in spirit and a mind so refined
Her friend Marco, the captain, with whom she dined
He parted his wisdom as best he could
He sailed victorious, for Bianca he should
His secret was safe out on the seas
Which is why he and Bianca, could never be
Her royal blood would keep her in stead
As nobility in Florence would turn their heads
Francesco indeed would commission a palazzo
For Bianca his mistress, in waiting, his queen
The Grand Duchy of Florence, all powers bestowed
A seeker of knowledge, of wisdom composed
His Austrian wife, alone, cold and barren
Could not compete, with his love yet to be
They danced, they confided, in each they held
A love of intellect, beauty and lust to be feld
And sadly, one day, the enemies of Venice
Plotted and schemed to bring about a demise
The poison was swift, and an era did end
In a villa in Florence, Francesco was dead
Bianca his love, her beauty unblemished
Fell by his side, and whispered to thee
My dear, my love, it was meant to be
Bianca Cappello (1548 – 17 October 1587)
Note: OK OK I invented 1 new word, that's what poets do
If in my beginnings I saw a photograph I saw that somethings was a mortal fact
A mortal sympathetic pack
My body sympathetic to instrumental tracks
In our relationship in our position within it
Where so relentless on the inside
My heart must beat , I didnt even have a heart
My wasnt cold my heart wasnt there
I brought my heart back to life
On a cold winter night
Sitting there right next to her
Sitting there I could feel the heart stir
And I didnt even have a heart
She didnt have to come to me in the winter night
But she was my girlfriend
Everyday of the week
In the winter bite
We plotted and we scheme to
Rob the bookstore and write all about it
Put it to music and shout it
This is Salem Oregon
From Gra Travieso in the Sae,Gran Travieso said i love you Alabama
Roll Tide
Saying Goodbye to a Web of Deception**
When did it become so effortless for him to weave his lies? Was it after their first anniversary, when the glow of their love began to fade? He meticulously plotted his betrayals, crafted intricate plans, and willingly cheated, transforming himself into a mastermind of deceit. Meanwhile, she wore her mask of a devoted mother and loving wife, concealing her pain as she smiled for their children. In public, she exuded warmth, but behind the closed doors of their home, she was a prisoner of her sorrow, tears streaming down her face in the silence of the night.
Then, that fateful summer night arrived—a turning point. She reached her breaking point and declared, “No more, no more.” When did it become so easy for him to betray the trust they once shared? Now, the scorned wife finds herself on death row, an ironic smile gracing her lips, revealing a chilling absence of remorse.
When did it become so simple to bid farewell to the tangled web of lies that defined her life?
Cramped steps acquaint heavy hatch reluctant
Cushion hush cellar isolate, harsh sun migraines
Catapulted myopic into apocalyptic destruction
Crumple of coastal community permits my gains
Grim resilient, plotted alone, abided by rations
Tidal wave treachery turned streets to swamps
Flotsam tops remnants sea's fury didn't flatten
Successors gorge on corpses misfortunes crop
Erased ocean era, crook posts pitifully campaign
Brashly I churn bathtubs of backstroked arachnids
Inhabit rainforest ripple stream, source I can claim
Traverse canopy like trampoline, scout eyes active
8th March
Out of Mangrove
Satan did all he could to block the birth Divine
Through a cold and shameful ordination, the King emerged in time
Satan pulled Herod’s strings when pride’s a subtle art
A murderous decree from a murderous heart
What was going on in Mary’s mind, her thoughts her own
While Joseph’s trust was nearly overthrown
No palace welcomed Jesus, just a stable’s Dairy air
The fallen sought to harm Him, danger everywhere
Satan reveled in the same ruse that led Eve astray
Repeating, “Did God really say?” to lead hearts away
He slithered in with accusations, a clause of old
But the Nazarene’s arrival was prophecy foretold
That dragon waited ready to devour the Child
Yet Heaven’s warnings left the enemy beguiled
Defeated at the Cross his schemes undone
The Strong Man plunders darkness as victory is won
On that first Christmas night Satan Christ profaned
The serpent’s fate was sealed as God had ordained
Satan schemed in shadows, darkness was his shroud
He fought to halt the Light, arrogant and proud
He whispered things to Mary, stirred Joseph’s deep unrest
No welcome for the Child, no royal place to rest
The manger’s straw became the Newborn’s bed
While Herod’s rage and pride is dancing with the dead
Before the throne of God, the serpent raised decries
With twisted accusations, his purpose was his lies
But even as the dragon plotted, waiting for his chance
Mary’s Son was born, and darkness shivered in its stance
From birth to cross, the serpent’s schemes are undermined
For the Strong Man’s victory left the foe confined
So, Christmas saw the ancient snake, defeated in his cause
He writhed and railed the bitter way, behold, Satan’s clause
my consciousness removed
picking me up from the floor
where my emotions became
a formative liquid gliding down
my limbs i awakened to your
false promises false doctrines
I opened mine eyes to blindness
covenant secrets i opened my
third eye exposing your untimely fate
you plotted for me i never admired
the unseen the invisible i truly needed
to remain naive to your wild uncanny
empty gestures I saw you rattling my
innermost peace I moved over aimlessly
only to discovery I'd awakened to self
eyes wide open my third eye
vibrant aware an yet I chose to
indulge you in false pretense
losing myself again into the
channels of disbeliefs simply
to believe you were real
knowing full well you were
an empty space a glance
on my journey to peace
I saw you there again
The quintessential of nyctophilia, wrapped in bridal attire, slowly and slowly as in somnambulism there goes the heroine of timeless tragedy to supersede her lovers feigned insanity.
Her beloved father is no more, being killed by her suitor's intrigued tyranny;
ignored to be drowned, to burn in the flame of plotted felony.
Jilted, to be startled by the selcouth performance of her handsome wooer's vile strategy;
there goes the most beautiful heroine ever to be the victim of fated irony,
immersed in senseless lunacy, to vanish from the sight of Hamlet's fatalistic eyes to bid adieu to the agony,
slowly and slowly to be disappeared into melancholic darkness from the dazzling maniac opaque sight;
there goes the Danish heroine of evergreen tragedy.