Long Pope Poems
Long Pope Poems. Below are the most popular long Pope by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pope poems by poem length and keyword.
I climb to the top of the Eiffel tower to catch the remnant of hope gliding through the skies in a bolt of lightning as it circles the three hundred- and thirty-meters pinnacle standing bravely on the hill singing songs of redemption.
I have been longing to get there because I have something romantic to share, it was you I saw sitting in a golden chair with a diamond ring on your finger and golden septage in your hand.
You had gifts all around you and long line of people were waiting to see you and the people from Babylon walking by saluting and bowing in front of you.
It seems like yesterday they rolled the curtain away and you came out without a thought or doubt, but the villagers began to shout.
They marched in the village with sticks and stones calling on the woman of Samaria to turn around or they would send the tanker man to blow up the town.
She didn’t take it seriously until she got hit in the face and ended up with broken finger and domestic disgrace, forcing her to pull back into herself as the weapon of death wheeled over her head.
It causes her to lose some precious vote and while she was out everyone start to shout, the river monkey and the Pentecostal valedictory but the Methodist honorary showed compassion and did not voice their opinion. Pope Francois was in on it too. But his persuasion was not strong to take down the giant man.
The live imagery was so profound of everyone you meet in the town. They smile in front of you and tear your garments behind you and when they are done, they hang it on a stick and place it on top of the Eifel tower in the sun.
We live in two separate worlds, one inside of me and the other outside of you, but it feels like you are right here besides me.
I can hear you all the time but you mask your voice underneath the vine and at nights when I take a nap you play tick tack toe underneath my frock but I pretend to sleep on to prevent altercation on the land. The image is always there it comes and disappears.
I am going on the hill to meet with the daffodil; I will minister to its soul and make its body whole. I will heal its painful allergy and when I wave my hands over its face, it will remove all the disgrace and dry up all the allergies.
The daffodils will smile again from the virtue of my healing hands, so come and help me to sing this beautiful song.
Is there really a beautiful heaven?
Is there a red and black hell for sinners?
Basking on this, I told myself that the beautiful heaven is this we see now, argue with the sky and cloud on this.
Father Francis told us that there is no heaven,
Pope Thomas told us that paradise is within our hearts,
and those who fall and fall on the altar of deliverance are miscreants.
We believed him on a platter of Sunday school morning.
He gave us lies and lies of truth about the World Series of lies.
In this pantful world where children wear disgrace,
In this world' voodoo, where sorrow back treasures of preachers,
In this train of earth where girls wear tears,
In this shattered world where our pride are whores,
Nothing is precious under the sun and nothing that the sun has not seen.
Man is home to himself and have choices about himself.
The clergy men that had their skulls littered in the evil graveyard of my village can tell of this.
To this voidness,
To this coldness,
To this yonder of shattered images,
Xylem of mannered eloquence of the devil,
To the world demon's demonstrators,
To the Halloween and the Dejavu,
To the magical cloth verses of the Indian,
To the cries of unholy pages of those holy book tabled before we were born,
I have a way that seems so right to me; and those are the choices I have made.
To the shrine of Illinois of the Illuminati,
To the pyramid of underworld,
To the coldness of death,
We will escape from this drum of world,
This is darkness!
This is darkness!!
This is darkness!!!
Darkness of the black spirits.
Voidness lies in the bag of red colours.
This gory miseries of the world keep us in the fold of grey.
We don't know death but death knows us,
We don't know life but life speaks of us,
We don't know abstract painting of demons,
We don't know the abstract imageries of sins;
The beauty of sin lies in the consequences that lies aftermath.
We are train of shadows,
We are feathers of spiritualities,
We are blood of feelings, emotions. anger. Carcass. Faded colours. Sadness.
Pains. Revenge. Vengeance. Evil.
Emptiness. Vacant. Void.
We are the opposite of day, synonym of good.
Is there really a beautiful heaven?
Is there a black and red hell for sinners?
Search your soul and answer to its voidness.
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent
More free advice to those* who would be King from the THIRUK-KURAL with notes
[*like presidents, prime ministers, dictators of declining (falling or fallen) nations]
K386: kaadchikku eliyan kaduñchollan allanaal
miikkuurum mannan nilam
Where king is easy of access, where no harsh word repels,
That land's high praises every subject swells. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
The whole world will exalt the country of the king who is easy of access, and whose words are without harshness. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Where at royal audience all may attend a king gentle of voice and mien*,
That kingdom's praises all will sing. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[* recourse to threats and reprisals can only undermine the good name of the land]
K429: viyavatka eññaantrum thannai
nayavatka nantri payavaa vinai
Never indulge in self-complaisant mood,
Nor deed desire that yields no gain of good. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
Let not a king praise himself, at any time;
let him not desire to do useless things. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
(The king) should neither blow his own horn
Nor occupy himself with acts* that bring in no corn. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[* like building a porous wall on borrowed cash while tens of millions of the poor sick die in pain, EVEN IF AMERICA will wake up some day to realize that he was after all right about the measures he's wanting to take over IMMIGRATION, unless everybody wants the kind of irreversible situation FRANCE and GERMANY are going through.]
K454: manaththu ulathupOlak kaadti oruvat
inaththula thaakum arivu
Man's wisdom seems the offspring of his mind;
'Tis outcome of companionship we find. (Tranls. G.U. Pope)
The knowledge of a man, while it appears to be from his mind is (really) from his associates. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
[(The king) who makes as if his words (and ideas)* emanate from within himself, (the contrary being the case) will find it difficult to conceal their true source(s). (Transl T. Wignesan)]
[* A king who has difficulty expressing himself in the "King's English" and whose repertoire of epithets is mostly limited to: "terrific", "terrible", "horrible", "horrific", "wonderful", "tremendous" along with threatening phrases like "watch my words" would do well to ask the ghost-writers to step forward and take a bow.]
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Further qualities of the King* the THIRUK-KURAL lauds: IRAMAADTCHI - Canto 39, K381 and K382
[*modern-day "kings": presidents, prime and chief ministers, governors, dictators and the like; K381 & K382 have already been posted.]
K383: thuungkaamai kalvi thunivudaimai immuuntrum
niingkaa nilanaal pavarkku
A sleepless promptitude, knowledge, decision strong:
These three for aye [sic] to rulers of the land belong. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
These three things, viz., vigilance, learning, and bravery, should never be wanting in the ruler of the country. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Not being lulled to sleep, always acquiring knowledge and fearlessly assuming the lead - these three qualities crown the king of a country. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
K384: aranilukkaathu allavai* niikki
maran*ilukkaa maanam* udaiyathu arasu
[* "allavai" = sins, evils, unreal things; "maran" = bravery; "maanam" = honour]
Kingship, in virtue failing not, all vice restrains,
In courage failing not, it honour's grace maintains. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
He is a king who, with manly modesty, swerves not from virtue, and refrains from vice. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Always virtuous, eschewing evil, heroic in deed and honour-bound - of such mettle the sovereign should be.* (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[* Which leader in our world embodies the dictates (and constraints) in this maxim? One often goes to war for seemingly righteous causes, sacrificing foot-soldier lives in order to fill some "cartel's" private coffers; or one might endeavour to boost the growth rate by half a dozen % points only to draw the polar ice-caps down on our children's heads and throats; one might build the finest sky-scrapers of the future megalopolises on the slave-wages of indentured immigrant labour only to deprive them of human rights in the name of the Supreme Creator; one might nonchalantly let city-centres choke in the fumes of carbon monoxide and let human excreta pile up on the roadsides in the name of cultural and spiritual enhancement through the pomp of rallies and manifestations on a grand scale and for what? - to keep the soul purified? - while the "kings" of spiritual development rely still on the divine right to rule the poor bugger down below, conditioned by words from the cradle! ] T. Wignesan, June 29, 2017
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Free advice to those* who would be King from the THIRUK-KURAL with notes
[*like presidents and prime ministers of declining (falling or fallen) nations]
K381: padaikudi kuulamaiccu nadpuaran aarum
yudaiyaan arasarul eeru
An army, people, wealth, a minister, friends, fort:
Who owns them all, a lion lives amid the kings. (Transl. G.U.Pope)
[army= the most formidable air, sea and land forces; wealth= minus the eighteen (?) trillion debt and not counting his own well-earned piddling billions; a minister=read as Prime Minister (V.P. or Sec. of State?); people=less by three million-odd democratic votes; friends=dwindling, save for staunch Israel by marriage; fort=impenetrable nuclear shield. ]
K448: idippaarai illaatha eemaraa mannan
keduppaar ilaanum kedum
The king, who is without the guard of men who can rebuke him, will perish, even though there be no one to destroy him. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
K444: thammit periyaar thamaraa olukuthal
vanmaiyul ellaam thalai
So to act as to make those men, his own, who are greater than himself, is of all power the highest. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
K447: idikkum thunaiyarai aalvaarai yaaree
kedukkum thakaimai yavar
Which king who (encourages and) heeds the criticisms* of his henchmen fears conspirators? (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[*not-heeding the advice of Ivanka and son-in-law on climate change commitment in Paris, even if the polls show a majority in favour of polluting the planet.]
K448: iduppaarai illaatha eemaraa mannan
keduppaar ilaanum kedum
The king who insulates himself from his helpers'* critiques will perish even if his enemies left him alone. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[*the role of the media in keeping the WH incumbents in check, for without the journalists working over-time to whet and wet-blanket the language and blunders, the King would have perished by now.]
K450: pallaar pakaikollin paththaduttha thiimaiththee
nallaar thodarkai vidal
Having to put up with the enmity of legions* is ten times less harmful than forsaking the support of good (impartial) people*.
[*legions= Hillary Clinton and the NDP; *good (impartial) people= like FBI Dir. Comey for one, even if he has an eye (twenty-twenty vision) on the presidency in 2020]
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
DOES CHANGE CHANGE?
For history is wont to repeat itself
Ever reneging, constant turning on the hinges
For the old in nature’s obeisance
Enter oblivious existence
That the present may succeed the past
For things now visible and feasible
Were once formless vision, thoughts and whispered words
Does change change?
Will there be housing unit or tourist centre in the moon?
Will a white smoke produce a black pope
Will monarchy be separated from British democracy
Will Christian and Muslim find a common ground?
For the present order and scheme
Were the embryonic idea in the belly of the past
For just above some 1oo years ago
Popular commerce was the transatlantic slave trade
The equivalent of 21st century crude oil and narcotics
Long before Wilberforce crossed Hull’s bridge
Does change change?
Will terrorism go the way of the dead and forgotten
Will Palestine find Stately peace?
Will Osama ever find the salaam in Islam
Will Hamas and Zionists find a common factor of human race
For barely 15 years ago
Apartheid’s spectre stood stoically in South Africa
The Black now reign where they once toiled like lesser humans
For small-pox once held terror court
Near and far, leaving more casualties than wars
Dreaded like its 21st century incarnation –HIV
Less than 50 years ago
Black lived as slaves in sugarcane plantations across US
Now US first family is full blooded black
Does change change?
Will HIV become a mere word of old English
Will guns and nuclear weapons
Enrich and adorn our museum in 25 years now
Would Iran be rich in Uranium or people?
Will peace find a permanent seat in security council?
For it was Kings and Princes some time before
Reigned over lesser mortals as Lords and Masters
of the known world called empires and kingdoms
Now the emerging relics of our collective past
Wall-posters of where we have been, and regal tourist attractions
Government houses now in place of kingly courts; parliaments for palaces
Does change change?
Will semantics of poverty change to… say… property or plenty?
Will there be equality of the classes
Will woman truly be equal to man
Will there come a time when the day will nor break?
Will science conquer death?
Some time ago
Women were best house-keeping, voteless second class citizens
15th Saturday October 2009.
Niitthaar Perumai: The Fundamental Role of the Ascetic, Kurals 24, 25 & 26, Translations with commentary
K24: niraimoli maanthar perumai nilatthu
maraimoli kaadti vidum.
The might of men whose word is never vain,
The 'secret word' shall to the world proclaim. (Tr. G.U.Pope)*
* In the Pope edition of the Kural, this's number 28.
He who guides his five senses by the book of wisdom,
will be a seed in the world of excellence. (Tr. W.H.Drew & J.Lazarus)
In this world, the ascetic's greatness will reveal itself
through (magically) unfathomable means. (Tr. T.Wignesan)
K25: suvaioli pooroosai naarramen rainthin
vagaitherivaan kaddee ulagu.
Taste, light, touch, sound, and smell: who knows the way
Of all the five, -- the world submissive owns his sway. (Tr. G.U.Pope)*
*In the Pope edition, this kural is numbered: 27.
The world is within the knowledge of him who knows the properties of taste,
sight, touch, hearing, and smell. (Tr. W.H.Drew & J.Lazarus)
Only ascetics who control the five senses: gustatory, visual, tactile, auditory,
and olfactory - can influence (and possess) the world. (Tr. T. Wignesan)
K26: seyatkariya seivaar periyaar ciriyar
seyatkariya seikalaa thaar.
Things hard in the doing will great men do;
Things hard in the doing the mean eschew. (Tr. G.U.Pope)
The great will do those things which it is difficult to do; the mean
cannot do those things which it is difficult to do. (Tr. W.H.Drew & J.Lazarus)
Men who have renounced this world can do what is out of reach of those who
remain attached to this world. (Tr. T. Wignesan)
(Here, it would be tautological if "niitthaar' were to be translated as"great or noble" men in the sense of the "jun tzu" of the Yi Jing. The emphasis is clearly on the element of sacrifice: the wilful suppression of the rewards of the five senses and their concomitant detachment of benefits available for selfish indulgence, so much so that a more literal translation would sound rather platitudinous, such as:
Big things can be done by big people. Small men who attempt to carry out great undertakings will fail.
In other words, the purpose of this couplet is somewhat dubious (it doesn't add to our knowledge); it rather looks like a "filling in" of the decade. T.Wignesan)
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
A nubile young vicar named Jude
Was seen swimming, totally nude
The bishop said WOW
Just look at you now
Your assets - they need to be viewed!
Fiction write!
07-05-17
Invited him home for a drink
A toast as their glasses did clink
Robes down on the floor
Performing a chore...
How far will this story now sink.
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
The vicar bent over to pray
The bishop could not look away
So for his protection
Took up a collection
A robe now conceals his display
WRITTEN BY CHRIS GREEN
I think this story about being nude will sink low
I will tell on those guys, all I know
Those two men are not holy
The bishop's roly-poly
And the vicar used to be in a nude girly show
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
The bishop was feeling romantic
The vicar thought the man pedantic
When the vicar turned around
To give the bishop a frown
The bishop gasped, "Lord, you're gigantic!"
WRITTEN DALE GREGORY COZART
Said Jude, will we both go to hell-
Said bishop, you never can tell
But please will you turn
I've got carpet burn
And my knees are beginning to swell
WRITTEN BY GARY SMITH
As the bishop continued to stare
He thought such a body's not fair
To see the nude vicar
was hard on his ticker
and soon he had to change underwear
WRITTEN BY ROGER ADAMS
Mother Teresa told me so
In the heaven we’ll dance too slow
If you want to come
Bring us some Rum
Otherwise you may stop and go
WRITTEN BY PASHANG SALEHI
btw... What would the Pontiff say?
Would there be hell to pay?
Or would the Pope
just drop the soap
and hope he'd be invited to play
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
When suddenly a knock at the door
they decided they'd rather ignore
in walked the pope,
joined in the group grope
next day they were all saddle sore
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
The pope thought it not at all freakly
when asking the other men meekly
that if they were game
and would do the same
they could set up appointments weekly
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Jude's assets developed so well
As the bishop could obviously tell
But you might be surprised
How it grew to that size
Well, he used it to ring the church bell
WRITTEN BY RAY GRIDLEY
07-06-17
“Do you like yabbies?” Barry asked. I replied “Are you sick!
I’d just like to ask you; now is the Pope a Catholic?” …
So we headed off across the ranges, where Barry’s cousin Ray,
had a dam that’s full of them on a property near Yea.
There’s no sophisticated fishing gear that we needed to get.
Just a stocking, string, piece of meat; plus a wobbly old scoop net.
The dam was quite a big one with tussocks growing ‘round the rim.
Within an hour I had scooped a bucket filled up to the brim.
We knocked off to have some lunch and to have a beer or two.
but in that hour we sat down we knocked down quite a few.
When I resumed my ‘yabbying’, my head’s spinning like a top,
and then I saw a frightening sight that made me quickly stop.
A big brown snake was sunning, between me and the dam.
The beer had made me brave enough to give this bloke a slam.
I picked up an old dry limb and gave it one tremendous whack;
it squirmed and twisted in death thro’s; then lay dead upon its back.
Barry claimed I was a hero when he’d seen what I had done,
not many tackle brown snakes; they slide faster than we run.
“Is that so” I said to him, and was sobering ‘quick smart’,
watching Barry in his stupor pick up the snake and play his part.
He opened up the mouth and then he got out his pocket knife.
Put the blade behind a needle fang, “Here’s what takes your life”.
Then said “I ought to skin him; it’s prob’ly worth a ‘pretty pound”.
Then just for fun he grabbed the tail and swung it ‘round and ‘round.
“Be careful mate!” I turned and ran; making sure, I’m out of the way.
“What’s the matter?” Barry laughed. “This mongrel’s had its day.
I‘ll show you something else” and held the snake behind the neck,
then put its head into his mouth; then he gave it’s nose a ‘peck’.
Barry seen that I was nervous; that he held me in his palm.
He watched me flinch and shiver when he wrapped it ‘round his arm.
“Ah that’s enough” he grinned, but I reckon he’d been rash,
then he swung it high into the air. We watched it fall and splash.
Barry laughed, “That’s ‘gunna’ give the yabbies quite a feed”.
Then something happened in the water that Barry didn’t need.
We turned to walk back to our strings - Barry’s face turned ashen grey.
It took a while reviving him when the brown snake swam away.
Proem
After Sir Thomas recovered the Spear of Destiny and returned it to the Pope at the Vatican in Rome, he remained there for several months serving His Excellency, attending meetings, and recovering from several minor injuries sustained while recapturing the Spear that pierced the side of Jesus the Messiah. Sir Thomas could have stayed as a guest of the pope in one of their lush suites, but he chose the bare walls of a guest bedroom at the local Knights Templar castle. The pope then called upon him for his next assignment: Leave Rome immediately, by boat, again, back to Constantinople. “Head off a Scot by the name of Sir Robert Bruce, whom our intel indicates has a map and is currently on his way in search for the Holy Grail. Sir Robert is a stubborn ally. You will help Sir Robert, but convince him that the chalice of Jesus belongs here in Rome.”
Prior to shoving off the west coast of Italy, a few miles from Rome, Sir Thomas wrote the following message, and placed it in a bottle.
______________________________________________________________
A.D. 1301
My dear sweet wife and babe within her womb
The five long years since I had lost you both
I prayed for inner peace despite my joy
You're both in heaven; worship Thee Most High
Because your love exceeds all life itself
My lips will glorify you ever more
I praise you for the rest; my living days
Your name I lift on high with my bare hands
Was on my bed that I remember you
I think of you the watches of the night
The shadow of your wings I cling my soul
The depths of which my sword shall honor thee
I yearn affections taste where two come one
The seed by faith that yields abundant life
Endures celestial kingdom's perfect place
It brings this missive to its endless oath:
To bless, release my restless heart that bleeds
Commit my swords allegiance to the Lord
To you Dagung the earth is smaller still
For every inch be searched to see your face
You disappeared, not dead but still alive
I feel the transom temper my resolve
For in this ship another search begins
The Holy Grail; Dagung I'll find you both
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Postscript
I toss the bottle through the wind to stormy sea
Inside the missive of a knight in love with thee
__________________________________________