Long Spokesman Poems
Long Spokesman Poems. Below are the most popular long Spokesman by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spokesman poems by poem length and keyword.
To the Circuit of Energy permeating the garden, sustaining the canopy permeate
Washing through with waterfalls, cascading rivers, and upwelling springs the fermement
Was magically darkened when Eve took her classes at Satan’s grove
Where one tree (or gate or pedestal) stood, and the devil appeared like hand in glove
To capture her attention, draw her away from her programmed obligations
Little did she know that the devils deal would lead to abnegation
Of her rightful role as a helpmate, swquaw and poets wife
To rule as co-creators, in innocence, with her husband – Adam – and without strife
Although the invitation to new knowledge might have raised her curiosity peaked
‘Perhaps’, she thought, ‘only to have this new experience’ would raise her from meek
Humility. And give her new insight into helping her man: new insight new skills
How was she to know that the tree of good and evil would not fulfill
Any decent role in sustaining the garden, or giving of strength
Had she known that she would be banned from paradise, and removed a full length
From the easeof leisure, the peac of pleasure, which passes all understanding
What a tragedy then, when she engaged the devil without comprehending
The consequence of taking that fatal action, to partake
In the fruit and lust of the wicked tree: when after she began to fake
The full collapse of her station to assist the 1st Man, her original matrimony
She had, perhaps unwittingly disrupted her union with man, and sundered its harmony
With the role of Adam as a spokesman and poet was now broken
The life from before, when he merelyspoke and observed had become a token
Memory. Speech itself a vestige of what life had been when it was perfect
For Eve had introduced vast new knowledge through her dalliance when the devil depicted
A fuller knowledge of all the trees of the garden once fecund
Now all that once gave life in full, a mere second
To Eves infinite question; to probe the everlasting and to question
From what source, and what deep came the gall of God’s order not to mention
The mercurial things that she had seen in Eden, the sweet lull and whisper
And perhaps her fall, the devils gambit settled the mist-in-her
.
.
I love words in a novel,
a short story and a magazine.
Words are my inspiration,
Communication.
I love words that encourage,
Inspire desire in a positive way.
Words are gentle and precious,
Words are spoken from the heart,
Out of happiness and anger.
Words tell the truth and lie,
Words exaggerate, fascinate
Words can change the world
Make it a wonderful or dreadful place,
Words make or break,
Words are the past future and present,
Our peace and war,
Words hold our future,
It can lead us,
Misguide us.
Words can be paradise or hell.
Words are who we are
You are the spokesman of your own words,
And how you use these words,
May make a difference to this world
But most defiantly yourself,
Use with caution.
David W. Carter
One night, I awoke remembering
the end of a dream like a movie trailer
Between shrouds of murky clouds unfolding
I saw the ancient wooden face carved on a totem
Perhaps an anonymous spokesman at death’s door
Perhaps my projection, just my reflection
or a phantom, a disturbing conundrum, I dare not say
I felt a withering mortality at my core
Yet, it contained all my living tree rings within
my years of stories, husky or thin
This shaman totem mask began to slowly speak
At first its mystical verse was somewhat oblique
Then in rich, tranquil tones, in humane inflexions
the face spoke, redolent and subliminal in my thoughts
Breathing deeply, I intuited what I was taught
Some seek refuge in still flower gardens
in stationary reflective pools of quiescence
in glistening golden altars to numina
But these material places are ever-changing
Illumination is the great revelation rearranging
of the consciousness animating all things
The deep plot of their craft,
the subtle tyranny in flowery cloak
Greek gift from white house “Doctor”
hoped to be a Hero,
and as the Parthian becomes a Nero by a mandate,
so soon t would be a Zero.
sickly old men in power,
compelling all as slaves,
decrees devoid of wisdom,
quacks science as solutions,
the suggestions of moguls,
the media and Presidents,
corona virus their invention
One Fauchi their spokesman,
WHO their propagandist,
preventing clean oxygen with a mask,
Isolation like a monk,
experimental vaccines their cure,
Our choice ignored,
We should ignore the casualties from the experiment,
Compromise our immune system with a Jab,
despite, the “Bell's Palsy”,
The “Myocarditis”,
the “blood clot”, the “guillain-barre Syndrome”
or whatever the effect in the long run,
Just take the Jabs or Loose your Job,
draconian rules like socialists,
intensified folly of Beijing's bio- terrorism.
Kill me Dictator,
I am not your guinea pig
prose
I will tell you of my God, the Father.
. . . He created the world from His word, He just spoke it into being.
. . . He knew all along that Eve would disobey Him (along with Adam).
. . . He planned it from the start that His Son would come to earth as spokesman for Him.
. . . He is a jealous God, not wanting anyone to perish in disobedience.
. . . I see Him at work daily in acts of healing, the beauty of nature, the miracle of birth.
I will tell you of my God, the Son.
. . . He has reigned with the Father from before the beginning of time.
. . . He forgave the sins of the world (mine included) when He died for us all.
. . . He rose from the dead to verify that He was different from all other gods.
. . . He promised to return to earth one day as King of Kings, I look forward to that day.
. . . I know that I’m forgiven, (not perfect); I talk to Him every day (several times) in prayer.
I will tell you of my God, the Spirit.
. . . He’s not sitting on his throne in heaven, He indwells me; He's my source of strength.
. . . He protects and disciplines and challenges followers to trust Him
. . . He reveals God’s message as I read His Word and pray (not as I listen to TV).
. . . He has guided me through difficult times, testing my true colors. Sometime I fail the test.
. . . I listen for His voice leading me in good times and bad to honor and obey Him.
written for Richard's contest, Tell Me
written 28 March 2015
I am the Council spokesman
sat here in my darkened room
I'm only dragged out in those times of
misery and gloom.
Whenever there's a foul-up or
a bitter pill to swallow
my very anonymity means
my words won't sound too hollow.
For concerts, openings, grand events
with VIP's to meet
plus free food and publicity
then you'll see the elite.
They'll embrace all of the kudos
parading for the world to see,
but when it all goes belly up, the
phone call is for me.
Excuses at the ready, say my piece
then cut and run
into my fall-out bunker, no,
it isn't that much fun.
Still when disaster strikes again
I'm here when duty calls
since those in power haven't the
sincerity or the courage.
BREAKING NEWS:
There are unconfirmed reports that, while filming a new advertisement campaign, (on location), on the island of Flores in Indonesia, Martin the Geico Gecko, was eaten by a local komodo dragon named Varanus. Initial info suggests that Martin was taunting the komodo, but that is NOT yet substantiated.
Details are just emerging, but it seems Martin, whose body has not yet been found, (pictured here just moments before the tragedy), was initially bitten at a post-shoot party given by relatives, and was later attacked and eaten on his way to the Bintang Flores Hotel, after succumbing to the effects of the initial bite.
In a surprising twist it has been discovered that, even if they DO find his remains, his immediate family has no means by which to provide a funeral service or decent burial as, (according to a family spokesman), they are "just lizards" and have no regular income, (please contact the family if you'd like to help out).
Even more shockingly, they admitted that Martin was sadly "uninsured" ... so tragic. Let's pray this is just a hoax, and that the "little green bugger", (as he's affectionately called by his agent), has simply wandered off in a state of instinctual bliss. We're told this DOES happen sometimes with his particular species.
There is, as yet, little investigative information or hard evidence for authorities to proceed with, as the only witness was a rare Mascambing Cockatoo, who has since mysteriously vanished without a trace. Before its disappearance, however, the cockatoo was heard by many people as repeating Martin's last known words, ad nauseum, "Eat me, dragon! Eat me!"
They DO have the primary suspect under surveillance. However, due to the slow digestive habits of komodo dragons, it may be some time before any "solid" evidence emerges, and even LONGER before they can find a forensic specialist willing to analyze it, (it's a rather messy business, that). Please watch for further updates.
There's a Cherokee Indian at the door.
What the hell is happening in this neighbourhood, last week it was the seven dwarfs, and who was the bloody spokesman, bloody Dopey.
Remember the good old days when it was just the Jehovah's who annoyed you. Go out there and tell him we don’t want to powwow.
It’s a she, and she looks about nine months pregnant, explanation!
I’m going for one of those dwarfs, and I’m laying bets that, Dopey ain’t as dopey as he makes out.
But Dopey is only three feet tall, and the week before it was the Yao people, three of them.
You think Dopey is three feet tall, but I actually think he’s condensed.
And was it Dopey who got the Yao’s pregnant?
No, I think it was Happy. Let's face it, you get three birds into bed, wouldn’t you be happy?
And before that, the Eskimo woman, Is this a fetish you’ve got going on here?
She was selling double-glazing. I mean, you couldn’t make it up.
The Cherokee Indian, was she selling double glazing
She was selling something, but double glazing wasn’t one of them, and I have my reservations about anything else she was selling
So, you’re the father then.
I told you the fathers, well at least two of them, the other five I’m working on.
So why did she come to our door?
I think the three wise men sent her cos we’re in a stable relationship.
I don’t think my divorce Lawyer will be thinking that.
Darling, I think you're Grumpy cos you’re Sleepy, I’ll get the Doc to give you a sleeping tablet.
Get knotted, you sleazy bastard.
Darling, could you do me a favour and make me a Sneezy bastard? Is that the doorbell ringing?
I’m going to answer the door, and I’m telling you now, if that's an alien woman having a green baby, you’re dead.
I hope to hell it’s the Jehovah's.
There’s a dwarf at the door, he didn’t give his name.
That’s okay, darling, I know who he is.
Even it is painful to see my country
I keep my inner wounds within myself
Because bad people love to put salt
In a wounds place for ointment
Envy hurt people's feeling
They inflect sadness instead of joy
This makes people hate each other
Too much intelligence sometimes makes leaders crazy
They don't want spokesman for themselves
He wants to manage his own political affairs by himself
But when he gets wrong he blame his opponent in doing so
Putting ill mannered-mistakes to make white to black
Or black to white and shared to the people as sentiments
The fabricated lies to others broadcast to sensationalizing
Silent dictatorship choke the people to revolution
Flowing the street with dissatisfaction with anger
People shouting for peace, propaganda and rage
Toppling the current administration to step out
But the Devil is holding power, money and influence
To hell with you people as the crocs said
Wait for the next election no more
Conniving powers from three branches is democracy
This is authoritarianism, silent martial law period
The leftist is silent for they are inception to cohort
Became the attack dog to the good politician
Money really hide what is decency and truth
The oligarch are profiting all the favor
Their business flourish in high degree price hike
The consumers are nowhere to protest the abuses
Where are the justice now, where are we fighting for
Where are our the generals, the defender of the masses
They are silent, money is the facemask to their mouth
I wonder where progress seen, good governance will be
I wonder why, I can cry is silence, gnashing my teeth
I wonder where the patriots will seek patronage
Where would the ordinary people will find solace
Where will my next generation hold its strength
Where will our nation take pride for independence
Where will our politician become our true leader
When will God intervene the affairs of men
Where will my people end its suffering, please tell me when.
Written November 17, 2013
Fields of flowers
Rest around our heads
While photos of blood
Surround our beds
On pedestals we stand
Preaching to the world
Something foretold
By heretics in white
And neighbors in black
Who claim they already knew that
Rain beats down on my roof
To the tune of Duke Ellington
And to the Scat Man we dance
It's all we have left in this world
Penniless pockets
Play the vagabond game
While the vultures in Eden
Circle the insane
Who hear the angels sing
Refrains and quatrains
Who can be a spokesman
For those who cannot speak
A preacher for the downtrodden
A dollar dropped at hand
For the bum on Main and Port
Traveling through strife
No child or wife
To dedicate his life
No hope to beat his drum
No harp for strings he's strung