Long Refuges Poems
Long Refuges Poems. Below are the most popular long Refuges by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Refuges poems by poem length and keyword.
You've stumbled off the righteous path, into the hushed
Wilderness of the unknown, beware for salvation's sake,
Go back nomad; travel not these paths of no return.
But nay this is the domain of the shades, little is
The light, allowed to seep through the thickets, heavily
Forested canopy.
You hear the underbrush cracking, braking, and freeze.
It's too late for you nomad, for this is death's sacred land.
A place of shadows and darkness, and you are the pray.
It is the scent of fear, drawing these demon dogs of
Damnation's lost, unto your path
Run nomad, for the devil's hounds lie close behind thee,
Those whom need no rest, the depraved, hungering for
The taste of raw flesh, cravings lustful, with an insatiable thirst,
Nay never to be satisfied, instinctual beasts on a blood hunts
Trail.
A packs brethren of the undead, dwelling along the fringes
Of humanity, ever watching, ever aware, just waiting for
The innocent to be caught off guard, than attacking without
Mercy.
Run no mad, for the bastard's of hell's keep, have sensed
Your presence.
In keeping with thy hearts rhythm blood pumps, in unisons
With thy breath,
As exhaustion's limbs tire of this chase, for your lives own
Survival, run nomad, you must move onwards, at any cost.
For the howl of the white fanged, nip at the back of thy heels,
Flee do not take time to gaze behind thee, run nomad,
Refuges salvation lies not far ahead.
A primeval moon glows above thee, illuminating this spectral
Land of the forbidden, it's just then, that you truly realize, the danger
Zone you've entered, as yellow greenish eyes pierce
Through the thickets wild, nomad your surrounded.
Climb to the highest point of observation, as primitive instincts kick in,
But these creatures have all eternity to wait, patient are the kin
To the dead, slippery is the branch, on which humanity grasps,
And beneath lie the tongues of the hungry beast, drooling with
Anticipation feast to come.
In the forest does anyone hear the falling of a tree?
Or the screaming of a nomad, who has lost his way,
Maybe it was just the wind that you have heard,
I wonder, what the noise really was, as it echoes
Deep within the forest of the unknown.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
(for America’s original true Veterans)
Government of Kings
where shall you bide?
Now that the
Great Horned Serpent
has appeared while
Thunderbirds screech
and lament in
desolate skies?
Oh great people of
Our Grandmother!
Amass your island
conjure the Turtle
retreat upon the seas
of your origination.
Oh Yakwawi!
Hairless Bear Monster
safeguard them
as they retreat from
their once
inviolable ground!
Shield and embrace them
prevent their ruination.
The pelts of the
Exalted Buffalo
could never thwart
the wicked deeds
Execution
Destruction
Subjugation
of your great peoples.
Vomit the rancid taste
of Poisoned Treaties
onto alien mud!
Rise and follow
Great Tecumesh:
Chief Shooting Star
Warrior
as he defends your Tribe.
Oh the earthquake
that ravages you!
Disease and War
vanquishing you.
Kokumthena grieves
weeps over the
loss and dread…
the Wolf ever
undoing Her Eternal
Task.
Fear not, for you
will be swaddled in
Her Skeemotah
She will smite down
evil and wicked ones
you will come home
to her embrace.
Algonquin cries of
the razed and the raped
deafening
carried on the winds
of Sawage falling dead
as your bones
disintegrate and scatter
over once Holy Refuges.
Mishe Moneto saw
Cyclone Person cowered
Misignwa hid
in her forest of hope.
Dress and paint your
rotting decaying
putrid Warriors
whose eyes
vacant
stare coldly
to the West with longing.
Bodies opulent in dress
painted poignant hues.
Prepared tenderly
so to pass the glorious
Thunderbirds whose
lightning eyes illuminate
hallowed lands of Elders.
Oh testify with reverence
and adulation and devotion
of the Turkey and Turtle
Rounded-Feet and Horse
the Raccoon and Rabbit
Oh such imperial clans.
Oh Great Nomads!
Stomp your Great Dance
around Wikkums erected
from tree barks
and sap and brush
and cattails
strive to seek
to protect
to preserve what
Mishaami are left.
(click on the pic to preview my poetry book!)
Opening a new 2019 calendar,
January unveils an Arctic Wildlife Refuge view
of glaciered mountains
behind a frozen river
surrounded by bedrocks
grey and bleak black
and rusty brown.
The Wilderness Society caption
claims this as our "treasured landscape
that the indigenous Gwich'in people" name,
proclaim?
"Sacred Place Where Life Begins."
Rather than
The same old frigid and barren secular place
where any decent life
could only abruptly end
in hopelessly frozen defeat.
This juxtaposition seems to capture essential compassionate v narcissistic
human destinies of choice.
Both Wildlife Refuge views
could be valid,
but the indigenous birthplace choice
to see opportunity
feels more integratively useful,
more communion sustainable,
resilient, rather than bitterly brittle.
The Dalai Lama teaches,
and presumably practices,
as have other messianic/bodhisattva re-creations,
a distinction between empathic pictures
and compassionate stories.
Empathy may associate with RightBrain feelings
of happiness and despair,
ecstasy, but also cynical disenchantment,
with some Other
past,
present,
future,
human,
animal,
plant,
planet...
Compassion is more about LeftBrain planning
what I, we, cooperatively together
walking in newborn, reborn solidarity
will do to heal wounds, minimize risks,
and more resiliently sustain sacred opportunities
for unborn/reborn future life.
Empathy opens windows,
pictures,
landscapes,
refuges,
sanctuaries toward proactive
cooperative co-passion.
Practiced,
informed,
experienced,
trained,
educated,
supported development of co-responsibility,
green integrity,
Synergetic vulnerability,
matriarchally cooperative wombs
open life to empathy,
co-empathy,
eco-empathy with wounded and therapeutic lifelines,
compassionate rebirth conquering narcissistic pre-death
In 2019,
2020 sharper revision,
and so on.
In the desolate temple of the soul, flesh weaves over bone a silent epitaph,
Spirits lock thought within the ark of thought, and sometimes, a divine spark,
And women in furies pour vessels into fragments of petrified walls,
While men submerge self in the deluge of the endless bitter draught,
No one unravels another's enigma—and yet we wander, undeterred in our search,
A feast of pain among the shroud of other silent dreams.
Flesh beside bone, and flesh calling for more than earthly caresses.
There’s not a sliver of luck to emerge,
We are prisoners of the same unanimous fatality.
No one ever rediscovers that lost half.
The refuges of cities gorge on their refuse,
And windows of pain become filled,
Madhouses come alive,
Hospitals spread their beds,
And cemeteries weep for the dead.
And yet nothing else fills the voids.
On this unanointed altar of the body cloaking the skeleton,
Minds wrap their writhings in flesh paper,
And now and then, a wisp of soul persists,
Queens shatter the jugs of pretentious pledged barriers,
Thirsty men sink their being into seas of deceitful wine,
And no heart finds its sunset in another's dawn,
Despite the journey, we lay amongst the pale napkins of other's dreams.
Carnal tissue embracing the bone—and the tissue chasing after more than dusty sensuality.
Not a thread of hope becomes visible in this stupor,
We are captives in one piercing prescription of destiny.
No soul ever uncovers that forever misplaced love.
The city's debris open their nostrils to plenty,
And the material world perfects its imprint,
Asylums echo with a chorus of commotion,
Hospitals interlace sufferings,
And cemeteries crowd their silence.
No other space finds a cure to fill the vast emptiness.
Look at the bible
it was written as a rock thrown to the future
in case history repeated itself
and there was yet another religious war
here it is
in our presence
bullets and bombs
and enemies who have no reason to hate
send someone in there with a plan to slide
some signs
to get the women and children out of the arena of death
known as their village
that is under attack by evil
a satanic massacr of men hypnotised by demons
send someone in there
to lead them out
a stage an act a subtle plan of candle in the window
church bells
and bakeries closing for the food for the road
for even jesus fed his followers a crumb a day
dont fall into that trap
plan and plan
history has repeated itself
jesus saw it
threw a rock into the future and is trying to tell us
we have to work together
get the innocent out
turn the war zone nightmare into a ghost town
and lead the refuges of the nightmare somewhere else
was no one listening to the gospel
the chines
the indian
the jewish the german
all the bibles have prophecies to help mankind in the future
right now its english
put your plans in action instead of watching the innocent suffer
where is the love
atree has a price
think of lumber and paper
a bird cost to catch it and put it in a zoo
a human life is priceless
learn from jesus
lead them
like a thief in the night
out of the nightmare
with a subtle plan when history repeats itself
and turn the nightmare to a ghost town
nothing more to fight over
an dthen the next religion can shine
Starless night, a fire ahead
upon a wind sheltered hill.
Drizzling rain and steamy breath,
I feel the yearning for you.
Lighted by the flickering shine
you seem to be nameless to me.
But your words, your versant vein
recall the charm of the past.
Like a swallow in fall,
untamed and wild,
you’ve vanished silently.
Your cold, weary eyes
have lost their bright glow
of periods elapsed too fast.
Love of life, my friend, come back to me,
spread your wings and carry me home.
To consoling shores, and healing refuges,
till my heaven's starry again.
Wandering through a twisted maze
in search of where I belong.
Deep beneath the outer coat
I’m all confounded and lost.
I may count the stars by night,
but they don't look out on me.
I may walk a million miles,
but life is not coming forth.
Like a swallow in fall,
untamed and wild,
you’ve vanished silently.
Your tedious glance,
your meaningless look
are saddening me deep inside.
Love of life, my friend, come back to me,
spread your wings and lead me along.
To uncharted soils, beyond cumbering bounds,
till my heaven's starry again.
By and by my life
got a dreary taste.
Childlike magic disappeared
and sternness began.
Elusive confidence,
blissful ignorance,
peaceful mindlessness,
defeated and buried in pain.
I couldn’t resist
Love of life, my friend, come back to me,
spread your wings and teach me to fly.
To salvation’s dawn, beyond crumbling walls,
till my heaven's starry again.
Ignorant Madness
I thought initially and first my worst fear is fear of fear
that is too global though and I hold dear the fear quite near
misguided far on global planet humankind removed from sanity
with ignorance and fighting firing greed destruction vanity
This morning I woke up to UK Brexit xenophobia social exclusion
and am afraid of nationalism egotism and infused perfusion
of hatred mongering of warfare propaganda into mindless mind
when harmony and peace togetherness cohesion would be kind
Compassionate and loving sharing compromising stance solutions
on cooperation refuges disaster poverty are better contributions
to equal chances on the planet kindness love and loving kindness
rather than deluded independences of ‘us and othering’ blindness
My anxiety and fears stem from history crusading slaughter
with crosses skeletons marching fascists many poppy fields to water
On every TV screen we cannot fail to notice killing for no reason
bleeding hungry marginalized annihilation genocidal treason
I fear more wars on the horizon bloodshed fused insanity the maiming
of humans peoples nations countries dignity when inhumanity needs taming
First prize to fear of wars destroying Universe my children and what could be
so beautiful if we would feel could reason use some empathy and see…
Writing soldier
I am a writing soldier
My weapon is my pen
Write about the battles
Of a war that never end
I am a writing solder
My voice is my pens
Made a lot of enemies
And I lost some friends
But I’m only writing
Of the things I see
Got to have an open mind
And don’t go blaming me
We see life’s imagery
Right before our eyes
So don’t get upset
If the truth is not a lie
The rich is getting richer
While poor remains poor
If you cant earn a key
How can you open a door?
Making your voice be heard
Some will say you complain
But you are just fighting
To be human being again
So many wars starting
Look at the evils man do
It just a matter of time
Be fore it reaches me and you
I am a writing soldier
My weapon is my pens
Just want to world to know
The truth as it happens
I am a writing soldier
Will you join me to?
If we come together
No telling what we can do
The occupation of Palestine
The world refuses to see
And the inhumane treatment
Of millions of refuges
I am a writing soldier
My bones are getting old.
Please join me young ones
So the story can be told
I am a writing soldier
My words are very strong
Some enemies has join me
And some friends have gone
Now I look around me
Many writing soldier I see
And if we put our pens together
One day the world will be free
Everything was easy and the good guy was me
Chasing bad guys through the cobbled streets of Galilee
The wine was sweet joy, the mad loving intense
Lead bullets were flying, lives lost makes no sense
I’m a man of action with a mission as you will see
I then gather myself in, a two bit actor, an old re-run movie
I help the hungry to eat, each and every day
I teach the lonely and sad, a much better way
I fueled the aircraft that swept poor refuges away
I tell the politicians my vote they will not ever sway
Just when it appears wrongs are righted, everything’s groovy
I see all the desolation, no relief, it’s just an old re-run movie
A Christian once told me the secret for life’s happiness
Was love your brothers and sisters, easy as yourself
Live a life of wholesome goodness and never ever strife
Put others before yourself and give thanks to God for life
For your sole purpose on earth was passing kind unbound love
Giving all the glory and thanks to our forgiving Lord above
Make each day honest with purpose, believe and be free
You’ll not be just another actor, in an old re-run movie
I am too fragile to let people penetrate into my inner world,
Too shy to complain about something, to express my dissatisfaction,
So sensitive that their words become burdens heavy to carry,
Too emotional to handle the turmoil that haunts my heart.
I am chaos, a strange one, always known as being unknown,
Silence and time spent alone are often my refuges,
Thus, my story becomes hidden, an untold and forgotten tale,
Yes, I am often misunderstood, as if I stay in my comfort zone.
But, honestly, it's not a comfort zone, but rather my own universe,
A place where I find myself, where I weigh my thoughts and dreams,
A sanctuary of silence where I can clearly hear my heartbeats,
An esoteric refuge where light and shadow dance in harmony.
Here, where reality and imagination intertwine in silence,
I build my world from dreams and unspoken desires,
A place where time loses its meaning and I can truly be myself,
Living in my own world, a story of unspoken words.