Long Pyramids Poems

Long Pyramids Poems. Below are the most popular long Pyramids by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pyramids poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Sweet Talking Potatoes

Casting my net
love over centuries
storms across
the sands 

Blowing deeply
inside deeper
than the skeleton
i speak 
out from
my soul

In an arid desert
blinding oasis
echoing beauty

Blowing whispers
whistling beats
floating your words 
just keep 
bringing sunshine 
into my life

it amazes me
with your honey 
sweet speaking bees
golden honey coated
laughs out lights 
upon the face 
as my heart 
shines out 

Trying 
to dazzle 
you with good
tasting sweet vibes
your beauty 
in my eyes
sparkling bursts
 
Only a lion 
roaring in 
the jungle 
of his life 
through the eyes 
of centuries
 
I am hot 
on your tail
sparkling stars 
from the pyramids 

I want 
to be your 
Mark Anthony 
as you honey 
go back 
in time 

Grasping out
into the ages
to Helen 
of Troy 
her beauty
was beyond compare
so the legend
has it

Launched one
thousand ships
the might and force
of an empire
so powerful 
a feeling

Great empires 
could fall 
when a man
is head
over heels 
truly loves 
a woman


Premium Member Burial

Neanderthals and
Torajas 
Buried the dead
With no cost...
Within
Cave-like holes
The dead did easily 
Exhaust…
=====
===
Lying posture 
Or standing
To a corpse
Does this matter...?
Does the dead know
Whether their souls fly
In airplane or
Helicopter…?
=====
===
Like Shahjahan 
And Taj Mahal
Egyptian  Monarchs
Built  Pyramids 
Tax of the poor
And their labour 
Were flown like river
Monarchs, yet, are never culprits…!
=====
===
Whether kings die
Or queens
Doesn't the burden go
On common-man...?
History always isn't
Cradle and swing
As we  proclaim 
As romantically as we can...!


03 October 2022

A Walk Under A Ladder

Roll back the tides of time, and tell,
Of ancient books of myths, of hell,
Of temperance, nuns succumbed to gloom,
Entombed within their living tombs,
Of monks, and saints, and gospel song,
Born gently by the breeze, along,
Of deep toned organs' peeling swells,
Of virgins, Mary, and funeral knells,
Of dim-lit cells and penance loaned,
Which can for one's darkest deeds, atone,
Look back and lift the veil of night,
And view the man, the anchorite,
There he sits, so sad, so pale,
Shuddering at superstition's tale,
Crossing his chest with meager hand,
While saints and priests, a motley band,
Array before him to urge their claim,
To heal, in the Redeemer's name,
To climb the heavenly ladder, made,
By every patron, of every grade,
From wealthy abbot, fat and fair,
To starving child, withering there,
All of them eager to usher in,
The soul, ransomed by It's sin,
And tell me hapless bigot, why,
For what, for whom did Jesus die,
If pyramids and statues of saints must rise,
To form the passage to the skies,
Would you think man can wipe away,
With what but penance, day by day,
One single sin, too dark to fade,
Beneath a bleeding Savior's shade.
Form: Rhyme

Bridge of Mystery

Every minute that I
live
Encountering another
bridge
That I'll gladly
walk upon
Leads to
joyfulness-- no harm
Never knowing what
I'll find
When I reach the
other side
Maybe a house upon a
lake
Where it will be fun
to make
A family with the
only guy
Who is the apple of
my eye
Riding a horse would
be a pleasure
On a farm with lots
of treasures
Like a cowboy I can
hold
On country nights
when it is cold
Lying on a beach at
night
Stars dance and
sparkle with a light
That shines down
like magic beams
As I'm drifting off
to dream
A grass skirt and
hula dance
Hawaii's where I'll
take a chance
And do things I've
never tried
That's been hidden
deep inside
Maybe I will find a
shore
Of wonderment not
seen before
Full of fun and
fancy creatures
With strange, unique
and silly features
Pyramids and Eiffel
Towers
And the Louvre have
special powers
Enchanting visitors
with their glory
Reliving memorable
stories
All these things I
can achieve
If my heart only
believes
Once I cross that
winding bridge
Dreams and hopes
will start to live
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Dead planet

Dead planet

Walk, just walk, deserts, mountains, valleys, ravines, and craters give the view
In horrific landscapes, no life exists, oceans, seas, forests, or green flower fields.
Silence the ruler of this planet, the invisible frozen past from thousands of years ago

Destructed civilization, atomic bombs, this is the truth. The Mars is a dead planet
Would you like to look at the satellite images and the photographs of the Mars rovers?
Pyramids are interesting and not natural objects and shapes. A lot more memories

There are pyramids on Earth, all created by the same civilization. Extraterrestrials
This civilization killed itself on Mars, we are the witnesses to their lives of heritage
We must learn from their mistakes. The Earth must always be green. The living Earth.

Home
Our home
In our solar system
Still
Does not exist
One more
Living Earth


Claiming My Egyptian Heritage

I claim my Egyptian heritage of
Love, rivers, healing
Geese fly high above our pyramids 
Those rocks moved with magnetic
music
Light cascading through space
Thoth dances above our crowns

I sway beneath Amun-Ra
She-He caresses my auburn hair
a deepening of irises 
it was my thunder and
my own blistering hands
Nile flows freely watching

Now my goddesses sit in their Merkaba’s
chanting around an eternal flame
carrying melodies of change
violined voices on violet strings

A million workers marched barefoot 
through fields or furnaces
aligning cores below to above
Sirius clapped assent
urging me out into Space
Pyramid ! Triangle of my refuge 
and direction

While above signs 
watched my movement 
up the Squinx
to a northern node
Bronzed arms encircle my hips
as Africa unites with Asia

I did not know that 
in a Southern land I
would disembark to
crack hearts of steel
with spirals of crystalline carbon
a moment at Last Supper
I relived this teaching

Myrrh rained down to
anoint 
My Heart was His-
Hers !

Mummy Vacation

Dear friends,

 Please let me explain
 I am normally gone
 From the break of Spring
 Until now...
 Every year
 I begin with a show
 And in this year
 As some might know
 I began with a Bang!
 Big orders on a scale
 I have never seen...
 And while my gratitude
 Defies imagination
 My solitude
 Might lack an understanding...
 And so a fun fact about me
Is that most might never see
Who I am...
I'm the right handed Jeweler
with a left handed Pen...
And I write
When I'm in sight of things...
So I'll be back
With a light type of 'hac'
To make creating with You...
Whole again.
There is never...
a bad wrap.
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Second Incoming

A probe enters the solar system, lays low behind our moon
It’s mission, monitor mankind’s behaviour, we’re impugned 
A decision needs making, if our planet should be dragooned 
By sending a huge asteroid, type that brought T Rex s ruin

Observing our every movement, then relaying it back to base
Hidden for countless generations, right overhead in space 
Watched the pyramids being built, and our nuclear arms race 
Not to be judged individually, as a species, for mans mistakes

Having run many simulations, from data that was gathered 
Projections proved inconclusive, based on all collated matter
Far too many variables, each outcome trumping the latter 
Intrigued by this incongruity, it’s decided to defer our splatter

A higher council grants another century, see if we can change 
Whilst down here on earth, humanity continues to rearrange
Time’s running out, this rock’s prepped, almost within range
Coordinates are being input, the exact moment prearranged 

I’ve figured out ground zero, impacting spot first to succumb 
And its not rocket science, when this poem is said and done 
Place of endless troubles, built by Jews, Christians, Muslims
Where nobody ever listened, you’ve guessed right; Jerusalem 

By 
David Kavanagh
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Celebrate Teachers

Let's celebrate teachers--give them a big hand!
For they hold the treasure a child's mind needs.
They open doors to discovery's wondrous land;
then urge them along to help them succeed.

Their drive and coaxing we feel throughout life--
whispers of "you know you can do much more."
Life, you told us, is not won without strife,
so, "get busy, let's see what you have in store."

When recalling school days, who comes to mind?
Schoolmates in classes, acquaintances fleet.?
Along with your good friends, who do you find?
I'll bet it's the ones who made learning sweet.

Miss McMillan, who came with us from Jr. High.
Iris and Byron Chew stretched our brains far.
Miss Mershon said let's give pyramids a try.
Mrs. Babcock had us reach for a star.

Thanks, teachers, for giving us distant shores
to visit, and snow-capped mountains to climb.
Thanks for holding our children's hands in yours
guiding their journey through momentous times.

Thanks for helping those who have tutor needs;
for late nights grading papers without end.
You smile as we leave, for you planted seeds.
All this, and you manage to be a friend!

May 31, 2022
© Ann Peck  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Hieroglyph



              Hieroglyph burns a silent secret
Within the ancient walls of time.
A story whispered in a pictured rhyme.
Un-sanded un-sifted entity 
etched upon the stone,
A silent secret, yours alone.

In shadows cast by Pharaoh's reign,
a mystery woven, to ascertain 
attention of the human brain.
Each stroke, a window to the past.
A code unbroken, yet untapped.

Papyrus scrolls, fragile and old,
Hold tales to decipher and unfold.
Pyramids rise against the sky,
guarding treasures, of giants asleep nearby.

Sands of centuries, windswept and wise.
Whispers carried, as the desert sighs.
Lost in the silence, where echoes hide,
a poet's soul, that is forever tied.

Oh, let these symbols unfurl their grace.
Unlock the secrets, time can't erase.
For in their beauty and ancient air,
emotions rise, like a heartfelt prayer.

So poets, dreamers, and seekers alike,
find your preciplace in the hieroglyphs, tithe.
Let the tales they tell,- ignite your soul.
And the power of the past come full circle.

Let minds unravel, hearts take heed.
In the realm where darkness meets the light of need.
For in the strokes of an ancient pen,
lies the magic to stir souls again.
In dusty bleed of pathogen in 
coffin break,in, urn of Djin reads, 

WARNING
art
Form: Rhyme

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