Long Soothsayers Poems
Long Soothsayers Poems. Below are the most popular long Soothsayers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Soothsayers poems by poem length and keyword.
I’m not an ego maniac
you know the type that gives others a heart attack
I get my vital nutrition
From a dietitian
Who only asks for my Submission
And he gives me the ambition
To fight back
On track
Promises me that I will never lack.
There’s a battle every time I wake
There’s a battle in every move I make
I am Jehovah's daughter
That’s why I can walk on water
I don’t need a psychic to read my palm
I have the prophecies, of his words, on my arm
I don’t need soothsayers to give me a premonition
I have fire from heaven that is my ammunition
Everywhere I turn their speaking death
It rains down until I have nothing left
Everyone is believing a lie
How can I sit back and watch as time goes by
The devil has sung many too sleep
Wake up, men of God; you’re being slaughtered like sheep
Resist the temptation
And have a deeper appreciation
For the lives placed in your hand
Or they’ll sink like quicksand
Into the abyss of despair
God’s presence isn’t there
This is a warning in these last days
To surrender your rebellious ways
Judgment is coming whether you believe it or not
Children of Niniva repent on the spot
And the God of "Mercy" will change his mind,
He calls out, “ Is there anyone I can find
That will abandon their ways and come into the light
Put on righteousness and fight this good fight?”
Spiritual anorexia
Emaciated the rest of you
Spiritual abortion
Has led many to extortion
Who will bow? Who will plead?
Save this generation which bleeds
Fathers gone estrange
Birthing violence that’s deranged
Suicide… the anti-Christ
Don’t you know Jesus paid the price?
By: Sabina Nicole
Quantum physics conjured her up, as soothsayers entice visions.
Saliva of the Neptar Universe rolled her around in Marg2’s teeth
Mouth of Surbian3 Galaxy spit her out, landing her in her own pod.
Her babyhood visions were filled with the truth of other lifetimes
Forged from many incarnations, lived in a variety of galaxies
Currently, she was destined to become a warrior of the Verdilion Galaxy.
Constellations bowed as they saw her pod rocking through the centuries. They had heard of MorquaVia5 decades before her arrival in the inner sanction. Dugmongers began thrashing and gritting in their sleep, sensing their demise.
Holograms of MorquaVia5 had begun appearing in the night skies two decades prior. The Neptar Universe had arranged that, to increase the fear level of the Dugmongers. They had been bullies long enough, it was time for a thorough annihilation.
Was she a solar system myth of grandbeings? A subliminal fear tactic of aliens?
No matter. There is only one thing left to do if you are a despicable Dugmonger. Either change your programing and your memories and make amends. Or prepare to die.
Too late.......she is here.......
At Heaven’s gate.
Heaven is rumbling with a commotion;
The news is quickly spreading, prepare for war.
Heaven’s gates are locked to all intruders;
False soothsayers did not say this day would come.
Heaven’s people are in a state of fright,
As the angels take flight, to guard the light.
Hell’s doors have begun to open once more
And from his throne he bellows orders to go and shed some blood.
Laughter, mocking, shouting, sobbing;
Sounds of death are drums of war.
Iron bars defend the gateway to Heaven;
From Satanic soldiers, marching on Heaven’s door.
Guard Heaven’s gates from inside;
With weapons created by smiths, in times of yore.
Generals lead your angels into flight;
For death is once more creeping, once more seeking.
So let no beast become your plight.
Armies march on Heaven’s gates and for God’s sake,
We shall stand as one; whilst their army stands alone.
In fear they shall march to their deaths and in God’s grace,
The darkness shall be repelled and laid to waste.
No fallen angel shall stand face to face with God;
The Devil was banished long ago to the netherworld.
Another attempt to claim Heaven for himself;
But the condemned shall never rise from their pit of Hell.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
write to me in wanderlust waves
of wakeful worship,
weave me a wish
with moon pearls and promises
as I bloom attached
to your aesthetic accent ~
amidst the soul’s pulse,
still questioning ~ quivering,
in need of a colorful
constellation of consolation
to erase the
fickleness of fading flames…
I know, love searches
for your name, breathing
into the warmth of my want,
like verses coursing through
the veins of irreversible ink,
and if, to feel you closer,
I must compose you a cosmos,
let me seize teardrop crystals
of champagne chandeliers
and light up your dusk
with deafening desire ~
recklessly awaiting the surrender
of your sky to my silhouette…
but what would soothsayers
know of the circumference
of a romance immeasurable,
unstudied and unknown
to fortune whisperers
forsaking fortitude and faith ~
yet preaching dissolution
and dissociation,
as if eagle-feathered ego feasts
on the nest that has no place
for the gossamer greed
of maggots,
manifesting mere moments
calculated through concave curves…
watch me waltz away from
the wickedness of bruised bluebirds
thirsting through cheap thrills,
seeking sunlight
beyond the barks of bravery ~
their tiny toes
perched in absolute desperation…
you are mine ~
O herald of hypnotic horizons,
wearing my poetry
perfumed with painless purity…
with you
the handles of heaven are nearer,
as the pilgrimage of you and I
is a visceral vision
of an unapologetic ambience ~
that no twisted tongue can tweak,
nor moulded monologue
can ever distort ~
the truth of tattooed fealty ~
a love letter left in the
arms of timeless flow…
The volcano leveled
then a great wind blew the rest away.
Early humans came late.
They had callused soles and rough hands
they knew how to dig,
run and hide.
When the flood came
they were at ease feasting on stringy meat and bones
in the makeshift camps of their tribes.
The locust eating priests
declared it was everyone's fault
but theirs.
Contrite, and greatly diminished in number
they began to scratch the history of the world
on random stones.
Volcanos grew testy again
smoke and fiery fumes scorched the sky.
They packed up their meager possessions
and trekked. The tribes did not stop walking
until they found a lost scripture in the dust.
Some called the find a bible
written by soothsayers
yet unborn,
but in truth
it was yet another mystical footprint
to follow -
a sign to track
out of this inexplicable land
that kept blowing away
on the shifting sands
of bad times.
Oh those cursed Ides of the 15th
they brought Julius Caesar death
the soothsayers warning unheeded
mamuralia chased beaten out of city
His clothes animal skins and rags
they set about this scapegoat with glee
hitting him with large wooden sticks
once he was driven out feasting began
All the while in natures ways
comes the madness of march hare
watch as they circle the fields
frequently stopping to box
All this to attract a mate
or is it just wind up their tails
be as may the sight one that stirs
and those mad winds bluster and roar
March arrives full of fury roaring displeasure
and soon is time to sacrifice the Ides Sheep
to bring forth Spring on the vernal equinox
and wave goodbye as march leaves like a lamb
This year the vernal equinox is not on my birthday but on the 20th
Vernal Equinox heralds in spring and the poor Mamuralia is an old man dresses in skins
making him a scapegoat traditionally beaten out of the city to kill off evil the 15th of march
is the date of Caesar s death as foretold to him by a soothsayer
From her blind faith,
He discovered a tale;
Which bewitched like ale:
Years back in its eighth.
Unlike Adam fell of Eve,
In Eden, what of God likes-
Bring to wrath of His strikes.
He see what her desires deceive
Just like Joseph knew of her-
Potiphar's wife's lust to bleed...
With him in eros and concede
The race of destiny as prefer.
What delay gave Rebecca to Esau
That delay almost became denial,
Despite trailing in the right axial...
It was a delayed timing cum flaw.
Just like the depth of sleep taken,
On Delilah's tigh; dying head's refuge!
Where Samson turned a cool stooge-
Who can't but help to endure unshaken!
But Hakimi is a calm Eboue of past:
Learnt of other past African players,
Who fell of such prank* no soothsayers,
Need to tell to the head of known cast.
Africans are becoming wiser; dyed fool.
Victory isn't a symbol of peace but joy,
Which should avoid been played a toy-
Prevent reoccurring ones and its rule.
All these eight years, watching the time
To strike out the planned trip she craved,
By love but its practices couldn't enslaved,
To bring change of plans when in his prime.
There wasn't love all along;
Good years and memories....
Lots of great discoveries:
Couldn't stop her of him been wrong.
3/20/16
Damn you haters
And the rude behaviors
Always upset when another is able to do greater
Must just be in your true nature
You wouldn't last against a Tomb Raider
Or any kind of crusader
You'd quickly be soon in danger
And meet your doom later
As a matter of fact,
Speaking of that
If you didn't, you'd probably want to crawl off with all of the loot traitor
But that wouldn't fly, and would get you tossed out into waters filled with more than a few gators
And if that doesn't work, take you out with toxic fumes and vapors
During the dark of the night, while so very far away from anyone of the moon's craters
In the newspapers
And over the horizon always lies a new danger
Some of which were tooth breakers
And youth takers
Others faded away and grew fainter
Over the heads of shoemakers
Shroom takers
Midnight and afternoon bakers
And several soothsayers
By: Dalton Ogletree
A Wordsmith’s pen
Is mightier than the sword
For he can turn a tricky word
Into a verbal weapon
And win the day against the hoard
The words of the Bard
It’s not very hard
The turn of a friendly card
The changing of the old guard
The wicked witch is feathered and tarred
The sky above is dark and starred
It’s feeling out loud
The dancing of spirit abounds
The singing of the soul
The mind and body are whole
Although sometimes it makes no sounds
Manifestations of mental visions
Put to paper by steward, or vassal
On cotton, leather or papyrus passel
Seeing illusions and derisions
Inside the book, the bookmark’s tassel
Of words and dreams, and fantasies
Muses and fancies
Blissful and blithe
Demons and monsters, and zombies alive
Somehow the dead come back to life
Shadows and shades of torment
Ghouls and ghosts, and wraiths
Humans tear at their at the clothes and lament
And prophets forecast and forebode advent
Fortune tellers and soothsayers say
The mind screaming in pain
Devotion and emotion
Evolution and convolution
The sane are temporarily insane
The brain suffers erosion
To purify what has been defiled
Or deride what is pretentious
Celebrate what is momentous
Of the humors; blood and bile
Are both infectious
Soul speak
Affirmation of thought and deed
The lookers seek
All of those who have a need
Reap of the sown seed
Strong encourage the weak
Travels in time and place
Exploring inner and outer space
The Children of the Is
Sing the songs that were once His
Though the Old Man’s dead and gone
His legacy lives on
From dusk ‘till dawn
Memories in tome eternal
Glimpses of Heaven
Thoughts of Hades infernal
Rolling sevens and elevens
Immortal mortals
Of a limited time
Speaking in riddles and rhymes
This poem a babbling run-on thing
Pondering, wandering and wondering
A beautiful mind
It should be dismantled and dismembered
Fuses blown, circuits fried, wires unwind
The Dancing divine
When remembered…
A voice said I had to go to the well in the center of the meadow
It was midnight; there was no way
The voice was persistent, insistent
Would not allow me to go back to sleep
or rest in any way
Do you think this is another prophesy? My husband asked.
He is from a family of soothsayers and healers
He understands the power of this internal voice
I do not know, I admitted, but I have to go
He was going to go with me
but an internal voice yelled “go alone!”
I thanked him, quickly explained and went alone
It was a balmy night, I arrived quickly.
A girl came out of the shadows to tell me her tale
She was frightened, terrified of her husband
I knew mine would have turned her in
I gave her a place to stay away from the house,
brought her food and gave her a bit of money
A distant relative agreed to take her
We saved this woman a life of grief,
when women were chattel, owned by husbands
I am glad this prophesy helped me get her
away from a wicked man, my husband’s cousin.