Long Rampart Poems
Long Rampart Poems. Below are the most popular long Rampart by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rampart poems by poem length and keyword.
Opened door and window
My dissected chest on the top floor of the building
I philandered with moonlit just once
The Dim light was over there for a while
Vague all around the sleeping town
I laid in paralyzed body and enthralled-
With my drunkard eyeball,
with your departure to rampart for another
Fatigue all speeches of farewell were bleeder
All mounds of happiness were there
Twin thoughts of love were together
Our neighbors were there and there were-
Our night parking seat, greenly straw
Varieties trees, owls, whistle of night guards
Some drunkards passerby, barking dogs
Lonely night singers song; some jazz music sounds
Some quarrelsome housewives quarrel with householders
And some habituated householders quarrel with housewives
quiet pool and sportive fishes
The lamppost, the dim light- red, green, yellow
The street beggar, the homeless family
All were there on the way of your departure
But with your departure to rampart for another
Fatigue all speeches of farewell were bleeder
- December 2012 Chattogram
With jaundiced eye affected by my heart
I do pray for enlightened vision glow
radiating truth of Scriptures’ rampart
toward perspective against falsehood blow.
Confessing personal biases’ blight
with jaundiced eye affected by my heart
I seek God’s pardon from arrogance-delight
gripped by hypocrisy and conceit’s dart.
Aware of preference right from the start
I do admit own vested interest
with jaundiced eye affected by my heart
thus, trusting the Lord’s guidance is still best.
Respecting others through Christ’s love in view
my spirit reaches out for grace impart
resolved never to wear empathy shoe
with jaundiced eye* affected by my heart.
*Psalm 88:9 Mine eye mourneth by reason of affliction: LORD, I have called daily upon thee, I have stretched out my hands unto thee.
June 22, 2021
Edited on July 11, 2021
1st place, "A Brian Strand July 13" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 7/12/2021.
On that fateful dusky evening about an year ago,
My eyes disbelieved as they watched you fade away at a distance real slow.
My happy world crashed and fell apart,
I could never gauge that I would have to undergo this at the very start.
But somehow I believe that you knew this from the start,
If only, I could have warned my, now bruised heart.
That gloomy evening I watched until I could see no more,
You, your figure your form and body any more.
From its dwelled edifice, my soul,
Began to rip itself glowing like a burning charcoal.
Now aloof from me and its temple, my soul,
Could clearly see in place of my heart is left a dirge hole.
I began to gasp for air and breathe,
The aches and pain my skin it has learnt to sheath,
To release from within me a scream, a screech or a painful yell,
But will that my “loneliness” quench and quell?
My heart, mind, body and a homeless soul seek a place for them to hide,
But cruel fate has my life exposed and opened very wide,
My sulking tears their potent energy bust the rampart of my emotional dam,
To God almighty my plea is some solace that I seek to come upon and loneliness ban.
Love God with heart's best; from Him don't depart
Bestowed on you is protective command
Triumphantly around promised land's rampart
Fulfill with faith, pleased by the Lord's demand.
Love your neighbor as yourself thru God's grace
Heavenly role midst golden rule indeed
Purged from sin's death wages and guilt's disgrace
Fulfill Saviour's statutes in word and deed.
Awed by the Almighty's glorious presence
I stand before Him humbled, yet grateful
Sealed with perpetual spiritual incense
For grand stewardship, joyously faithful.
"Love God and others"* is blessed commission
I strive to do so by His compassion.
*Luke 10:27 ...He (Jesus) answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.
December 29, 2019
6th place, "Movie Magic" Poetry Contest
Chosen film: "The Ten Commandments"
Sponsored by Gregory R. Barden; judged on 3/21/2019.
God-wrought revival* indeed brings blest peace
joyous; by His serene gladness, can’t cease…
Life-transforming for gracious attitude
prevailing with praise-propelled gratitude…
Christ-propped faith toward divine advancement
braces earnest life-building involvement…
Blissful reaching-out servanthood drives heart
guarded by the Holy Spirit’s rampart…
Prayer-anchored pursuits inspire my soul
zealous to fulfill love-committed goal.
Basking in the Lord's ministry delight
I exalt Him through lovely poem's height.**
*Hosea 14:7 They that dwell under his shadow shall return; they shall revive as the corn, and grow as the vine: the scent thereof shall be as the wine of Lebanon.
November 4, 2021
**Edited on March 2, 2022 with last couplet added.
1st place, "A BRIAN STRAND STRUCTURED" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 3/8/2022.
“For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” Luke 12:34 of the King James Bible
Our family’s treasure is mother dear
Sweetly pervading in home’s veins with cheer
Her nurturing scent wafts inspiring zest
As gracious fragrance of radiant blest.
Dad as hero is treasure in our heart
Securing us in safeguarding rampart
Reinforcing Mom’s dos and don’ts essence
Echoing parents’ marvelous presence.
Precious treasures are siblings with great care
Allowing sweet practice of give-and-share
Revealing family’s beauty so well
Midst bliss exuding serenity smell.
Treasures so priceless are eternal gain
Granted with faith's joy of compassion's reign
Gifts from the Lord Who never makes mistake
Family members midst love to partake.
*2Corinthians 4:7 But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.
August 8, 2023
2nd place, "T Words" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 8/10/2023
And therefore, whensoever death shall close my eyes,
I charge you thus to solemnize my doom:
let there be then no long ancestral parade of masks,
nor empty cry of trumpet for my end,
nor spread me a catafalque inlaid with ivory,
nor lay my corpse out on a cloth-of-gold;
no ranks of acolytes with incense heaped on trays:
the plain last rites of a common man be mine.
Grand enough my cortege, if it bears a few slim books,
my ultimate offering to Persephone.
But you, your naked breast all torn, shall follow after,
nor ever weary of calling out my name,
and press your final kisses upon my frigid lips,
while Syrian unguent pours from the onyx jar.
Then last, when the fire kindled beneath has burned me to ash,
consign my relics to a fragile urn,
and plant a laurel spreading over my simple tomb,
to shade the burnt-out cinders of my pyre,
and write: HERE LIES A MOUND OF COARSE, IGNOBLE DUST,
THAT ONCE WAS VASSAL TO A SINGLE LOVE.
My sepulcher shall then achieve no less renown
than has the Phthian hero’s bloodstained tomb.
You also, when your fate draws near, remember me,
and come white-haired to these memorial stones;
meanwhile, have care lest you be faithless to my grave:
this earth will not be wholly dead to truth.
If only in my cradle one of the Sisters Three
had ruled that then I should yield up my soul!
What use to cherish so life’s too precarious breath?
Seek Nestor, who lived three long ages: dust.
Yet if his doom of lingering age had been revoked
on Ilium’s rampart by some Carian’s spear,
he never would have seen Antilochus’s corpse entombed,
nor cried, “O death! Why come to me so late?”
Yet you sometimes shall mourn the lover you have lost:
love lasting is the meed of vanished men;
as, when the savage boar smote delicate Adonis
while hunting once, high on Idalium’s crown,
they say that in those marshes his beauty was laid low,
and that you, Venus, came with loosened hair;
but Cynthia, vainly you will summon back my ghost:
what answer could my crumbled bones return?
— translated from the Latin
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With love from Venezuela to the people of the United States of America.
Once upon a time were one of the most prosperous nations of South America.
Our nation once upon a time was a democracy and a representative government. Elected to represent our beloved homeland. But our hopes and our dreams have been washed away by Socialist tyranny and a dedicator who enslaves.
And improvised its people. We do not have enough food to eat. We long for safe places to be able to sleep. All who fight for freedom, even those brave souls. Who came from the United States, were arrested as agitators against, our government. They were the true freedom fighters, who were not paid and trained professional communists agitators. Which are running rampart on the streets of America today! "If the black people are not careful they could lose their country." Almost just exactly as we have lost ours!
If America does intervene, they will become involved. In a qua mire worse than the Vietnam War. It was a promise engraved in stone by our El Presidenta. Who clocks his misdeeds under the guise of the highest title of a governmental official. When he is nothing more than a paid and highly trained Communist agitator. South America has been plagued by a series of dictators and revolutionists. Who made false mandates and proclamations to the unfortunate South American people. But he stands heads and tails above them all!
In America people are still free to protest and speak out about their governmental leaders. Anyone caught doing that in Venezuela today
would be taken out and shot. I would not be in the least surprised if they
choose the Mexican execution by firing squads! Any one chanting Viva La Freedom! Viva La liberty! Would be taken out and shot! He or she would be imprisoned and tortured!
I am speaking out for the people who have no freedom. I am speaking out
for those who have no voice or no hope of their own. I am beseeching the throne room of God on their behalf as well as the people of Hong Kong!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
July 07, 2020
To drop my chalice filled with passion's pain
From crooked hands clenched in your darkest mind
Its wormwood drought, is less of bile that stains
Let spill and wash this earthen floor of time
Quickly flee from this dung lit realm of shades
And seek your silver empty cup to fill
In pouring fountains of the willing hearts
That always flow beyond the farthest hill
It's where I lost your love for evermore
Drift into dark before the setting sun
Fled my world like shadows the light abhors
Pierced my beating heart until night begun
A monument now crumbles in my heart
Left to lay as false love, a stone rampart
a didactic poem
When eloquence leaves you a’wanting,
if verbal effluence you’re flaunting,
should your audience appear daunting,
kiss the Blarney Stone.
I climbed the circular tower,
reached the hundred ninety-third step,
and waded through unhurried queue.
I trembled with anxiety,
gasped for ev’ry uncertain breath,
and paused to view but then I knew.
Hidden underneath the rampart
this infamous bluestone will rest
I shan’t pursue my lips on blue.
When commonsense says, “No way”,
if plain prudence seeks delay,
should consequence have its say,
pass the Blarney stone.
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