Long Slaved Poems
Long Slaved Poems. Below are the most popular long Slaved by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slaved poems by poem length and keyword.
When do you want to rebel?
At dawn when the thoughts are gathering
At broad daylight when the thoughts are hiding
At dusk when they are opening the buttons of their charade
Or at night when they have forgotten their purpose?
When do you want to rebel?
Lips bedeck in crimson, you wonder
Is it in search of blood or passion?
You wonder while they dance,
Allure you with smiles,
Lips, do you mean happiness?
Or have you slaved the smiles?
Oh you conniving puppetmaster!
When I rebel,
Will those strings be enough?
When do you want to rebel?
Hands touch you like you are satin
Wrapped around dirty, naked bodies
Without permission
When I strangle you
Will those hands be enough?
When do you rebel?
You love like a cloud in its deathbed
Caressing the wideness of an oblivious mountain
Soon vanquishing in his unyielding walls
When I turn into thunder and lightning,
Will that strength be enough?
Every breath is a chance to steer a storm
Every blink is a chance to create a memory
Rebellion is Agony's womb,
The place where
The sun and the moon,
Night and day,
You and I,
Our thoughts,
Were born.
TWO STRANGERS IN LOVE AGAIN
Two strangers learned to fall in love again
Amidst long distance tumultuous air
It buds, blooming regardless distant strains
Healing hearts that before been slaved by vain
Standing from despair their constant prayer
Two strangers learned to fall in love again
Wrap tight to gazes, drawing bigger gains
Sweet romance: the crayons to us, new pair
It buds, blooming regardless distant strains
Liberty rouse chemistry dropping sane
Their sparkling eyes mirrors pure love and care
Two strangers learned to fall in love again
To hugs and holds, seduced minds are life-chained
Devoted hearts protect: keeping their stare
It buds, blooming regardless distant strains
When sincerity of love is sustained,
everything in space and time we can share.
Two strangers learned to fall in love again
It buds, blooming regardless distant strains.
________________________________________________________
6:47pm , January 31, 2016
Dedicated to my Huge One... :)
i am the land of legend and dreams
billions of years ive been here its seems
a land of dreaming and ancient ways
i have survived for so many days
now my future is very unsure
a modern corruption is burning my core.
my ancient keepers killed and slaved
by the white masters that dig no grave
my oxygen lungs burnt to the ground
my forests are empty and void of sound
i sit in silence
as the the new owners cause violence.
stripping me of my valuable soul
to make money by drilling a hole
why cant they see
the real wealth is here in me
without me you are dust
so why destroy me ?why you must
modern owners with their chains
enslaving the land for their gains
here my voice
we all have a choice
i am gondwanna land
Once was I kissed by my neighbours wife
Bringing me back from death to life
While slumbered still I sleepily lay
Suspended serene 'twixt the night and the day
A housebreaker moon in a bullshitters night
Where she took and she gave
Memory of how our lips became slaved
Resistance got broken as I lay on that couch
Secret remained in the twist of our mouths
Ever since then I've been courting the myth
For only the want of a neighbours kiss
Eyes in the shadows saw that loving exchange
And never betrayed us and nothings since changed
Wandering around , besotted like this
To see the wife of my neighbour
And boy, can she kiss!
Today the Sunday special brief
iCloud online worship session, I did attend
(via remote support)
found me feeling pampered,
when adept technical support
didst figuratively bend
over backwards, thus aye defend
glorious, righteous,
and zealous Gurus who did expend
their religious fervor, without proselytizing
and sanctified dedication they proffered
as if this secular chap hapt tubby
a long time Facebook friend
diligently persevered amidst
my woeful yelping alarm
where bot sized wetbacks, setbacks,
and drawbacks,
required a secret char
which this netizen vaguely understood
as unfair be-tidings disallowing
thyself to purchase additional farm
ming out iCloud storage
in the deleterious harm
akin to buggy ah mush swarm
comprised documents
(painstakingly slaved over with zest)
plus sundry data necessitating mooch hoe
legal tender (probably every
last red cent of mine) to in vest
concerted efforts of
at least one expert to test
her/his mettle in an attempt
(dim prospect) performing an in quest
to retrieve valuable data lost amidst a nest
of inaccessible "lost" information
(bantering with computer
jargon more so jest
with no intention to "FAKE"
trumpeting minimal knowledge
judiciously impressed
upon thine fifty plus
shades of gray matter, at my be hest
expressing scant cumulative
disc cussing duff frag
minted understanding lest,
a personal goal
to incapsulate in poetic best
not abandoning frustration
with this Macbook Pro
cuz, positive experience
wrought with Apostles eye attest,
so rather then vent
my spleen in vein
hie desisted
to rage against the machine,
and tack toward being urbane
thus, rejoicing with a cherry,
hearty, and mighty byte hooray,
asper driving,
exercising, and foisting
gentle circuitry vis a vis
neurotransmitters and neuromodulators
nudging pull-ups
within cerebral terrain.
I was sleeping one mornin
The Lord awaken en said ta me
Risin said I was awoken to be a rich man
My Lord God said
I am a Richman
Rich in honor
Rich in His glory
Hallelujah
I was raised to be a rich man
I was blessed to be on top of this land
And I was first to see His righteousness
I wasn't cursed to be involved in any demonic mess
I was risen I wasn't slaved not serve
Devil git B hind me
Ain't no place here devil git out of here
Jesus in my heart now
Jesus was raised a rich man
O' how happy I am
10/27/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
This old Pocket Watch
In 1680, made in MaidaVale
If it could talk
What a tale it could tell
The old watchmaker
Slaved away all day
To bring to life his creation
This timepiece, by the end of the day
Sold to a merchant traveling
From Bath to Bristol
When he was held up
By Dick Turpin and his pistol
So the pocket watch found a new owner
For a number of years or so
Until the day that Dick Turpin was hanged
What a way to go
For a couple of centuries
It disappeared from view
But turned up in a auction in London
From whence it came no one knew
Bought by a London banker
As a present for his son
Who was that very morning
Leaving to fight for his country at Verdun
With the watch safely in his uniform pocket
It was carried over the ocean blue
To where our gallant soldier fell in battle
Just outside the town of Acentoo
The watch was found and brought back to England
And became a family heirloom
Passed down from son to son
As wealthy families do
Now the proud possession of the Earl of Wessex
A scholar and a man of note it’s true
And it still keeps perfect time
Considering all that it’s been through
So always remember
When you look at something really old and battered
What history it could contain and recant
If it could talk and say what really mattered
TO A NEVER-ENDING SYMPHONY
OF EMANCIPATION’S RECONSTRUCTION
Stomping cautiously
Along the erratic cadences
Of slaved-based racism
And its quarter-note overtones,
We groove from one oppressive
Barred-beat to another:
The scored freedom sojourn
Filled with negative rest stops,
Designed to decrescendo
Wailing staccato, rhythmic screams
Of jazzy, flowing notes, echoing
With rebellious metered sounds:-
Bypassing silent apathetic rest stops,
With a crescendo of rumbling faith
And sassy melodic hopes,
Renewed booming sounds of liberation,
void of waning half notes,
Loudly burst into vibrant whole notes
Of modulating fixed purpose:
Creating a never-ending
Symphony Of Emancipation,
Conducted by spiritual directing,
Exacting melodic notes
Of an ultrasonic pulse,
Echoing a never-ending concert
And its encore sounds of
Liberty’s total reality:-
Love shows up, each time I close my eyes
Love shows up and asks me the reason why
I choose to keep away from it!
Having never any answer to give it,
It got fed up
And one night
As the winds howled
And the rains pelted
It forcefully grabbed my clenched fists
And placed them over a mirror
In which the glowing full moon was reflected!
Love then said, "You have no choice,
Like the rest of humankind
You shall have to live by my rules
Yes, you shall have to kill the demons
That have made of your heart, their dwelling
You shall have to open the windows thereof
Destroy everything that is moldy
Rusty and foul smelling
And immerse yourself with my essence
Yes, on this night, with this pact
Slaved you are to me
Your salvation shall come only through me!"
Love then left me and I opened my eyes
To my new reality
Pray, a bond I have with love
In a shadowy pact have I been sealed to it
Pray, whispered I to the reflected moon in the mirror
Help me fall in love
Order the mighty winds to blow me across my fated way
Allow the butterflies to fly me there where I'm awaited
Appeal to the sun so that it shines to me the right direction
Ask the birds to sing of joy when I choose the right option
And of gloom when I do not
Pray, such is needed
So that my pact turns out not void
And so that Love turns out to be pleased with me!
For Contest Help me Fall in Love
Written on 10th September 2017
The heart that beats does scream as my chest tightens,
A sound so sharp it bleeds from me, my every will.
Hath only the mind to break my faith and frightens,
My soul under deep now slaved shall ever be still.
The body does succumb to its own writhing,
I beg this moment cease, the play of such filth,
Like fertile field, every second upon me scything,
It reaps from ground the bounty that blood forth spilth.
The eyes spiral through with sight of mind distorted,
While blind despair does spread as thoughts afflict,
My world falls down, both shapeless and contorted,
I cannot break the grasp that chains constrict.
Into my every being it has pervaded,
The man who weeps as his soul degraded.