Long Staffs Poems
Long Staffs Poems. Below are the most popular long Staffs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Staffs poems by poem length and keyword.
God, I have a prayer for you today.
It’s just from me, but please hear what I have to say.
Millions are being abandoned, starved and soon alone, where some in Ukraine are still free to roam.
Children are becoming hungry, helpless and alone.
Give them bravery, messengers of God,
imaginary staffs and protective rods.
(Psalm 23)
Our leader’s horrible disdain has caused many to join The Hopeless Train.
Beg your angels to collect their pain.
Smalls tears are turning into puddles of fears.
Guardian angels, Ukraine needs protection, guidance and love,
hope, reassurance and your spiritual hugs,
from all your celestial beings above.
To my Deedoosh and my Babusys hold each other tight.
Hnhely, we pray for you today and tonight.
To Germany, Danke
Great Britain, Much obliged
Sweden, Tack
France, Merci
New York City, Thank you
And The United Kingdom.... our freedom.
Keep Ukraine’s enemies away.
From those on TV and those who are evil, far away.
President Zelensky my hope for you,
End the war for Ukrainian’s families,
Stand strong,
believe the world will right this wrong.
"Keep rising, keep moving, your silence is the loudest response"
Help Ukrainians to be brave in the face of fear.
People are trying to support you far and near.
Unite us together
and please now forever.
God, you listened to my prayer today, thank you for hearing what I had to say.
Leave a man to him and his words
and telescopic terrains will open,
as splendid as the midwinter constellations
sprayed in a barbarous sublimity across the sky,
with the serene orb of Jupiter hanging unflickering over the land.
They tell us language is but a cruel game,
an endless warren of pinball deflectors
fit for Ariadne but not the sensibilities of mortals.
But it is only when we realize that the greatest Catharsis
is that which exists in the fecund abyss of solitude,
the paradise found in the stamp on our souls,
that we can wrestle and mold our words like primal clay,
Craft cosmos from chaos in the folding mirror of our consciences.
All our words are symbols; pregnant indicators of some untouchable abstraction,
ideas too deep for the anchors of voyagers
and too high for the staffs of mountain climbers;
Let us conquer the earth to salvage the truth;
let us try and snatch it from the sight of God.
Even so, that actual essence which we have always sensed,
which we try to reach through the quest
for the thrice-blessed stylus to write indelible code
upon the chalky slate of our hearts,
is unattainable when we act rather than receive.
True aloneness is openness to purification;
to infusion of the symbol with alabaster plate.
The lighthouse is a greater relief to the wave-whipped sailor
when the shore glistens with freshly-fallen showers,
Throwing the glare into wide-open pupils:
So it is when we allow the loftiest and earthiest of truths
To immerse our thoughts and their verbal accidens
In the baptismal font of infinite regeneration.
The Kundalini Is Rising, now I'm Flying High on Wings Of Wisdom
Full Power Up On The Chrism,
Ever-Upward in Fully Blazoned Life
Fear No Evil, Fear The Regal Like....
I AM Spirit, I AM Alive
I AM Soul Divinus, One with the Sacred Fire
Deathless by the Knowledge, Breathless by the Flight
Wielding Staffs and Grails of Light,
One and Beyond I AM Eternal
Boundless by The Force, Boundless, Supernal
Slinging Mights Of Courage, Stone Bold like David
Never Jaded, Wielding Long Bows like Hayk Nahapet
Solar Gleamin like a Scion of the Great Spirit
The Vibes Jive On Exquisite,
Legend Born by the Alchemy
Chasing Diadems for the Masterpiece,
Full Ascent Into the Heart Of Israel
The Land Of Milk and Honey and Citadels,
Ever-Luminous, The Sacred is Rising
Ever-Thriving,
Abode the Heavens, The Stars Align
Seven Doors To Paradise
The cries of those
That lacked leadership
From that time
Till now
That vision of America
That is cried from the
Tears of those who have
Nothing but aspire to
Have
That circle which is centered
From the trust
And believing
Which tomorrow's are promised
From this today
And that eternal trust
Of believing secures the faith
Of those who trust
Backbreaking efforts of workers
Staffs who believe in
The echoes of tomorrow
Stand beside me
When those who have chores
To secure the dignity of
The learners stand with me
Might the efforts of both
Admistrater and staff
Be for that tomorrow
Which includes us all
From the homeless to the lord's
From the administration to the tasker
Those unafraid to seek the need of
All people
Lay down those burdens which hind
That they trouble the way of procession
In the sight of these people who lack the
Understanding of your troubling!
Moss Tauss
2023
THE SCHEME:
The system is bad...!
It's really sad.
Times are obviously hard.
It's not easy to come across money.
Though it sounds really funny.
As many can't afford two square meals.
What of paying their bills?
Only being in their shoes will you know how it feels.
Teachers are serving willfully,
But treated with carnality.
Doctors working awesomely,
Still handled with insincerity.
The system is killing...!
The common people are suffering the most.
There's now corruption in every dealing,
Families can't even accept to host.
Now everyone accept how everything goes,
Though it is breeding woes.
No one knows...
What tomorrow holds.
But it seems everything shows,
That nothing will ever change.
Politicians are happily causing rage,
At every given range.
What a blacked age?
Where you see so many smiling faces.
Yet, having so many unsolved cases,
because of bad treatment from people at high places.
The story comes in diverse phases.
The system is a dead brick...!
Unemployment is at the highest peak.
And who are you to speak?
Without political referees you won't be picked.
Such a deal at stake.
The poor are in pain.
And what does the private staffs gain?
Yet,the government believe both are perfectly sane.
Whilst the national crises makes them go insane.
They say the covid-19 is the main problem,
Where as the Russia-Ukraine war has wrecked the nation's laid emblem.
The system is a disgust...!
When the nation is totally misplaced.
Who should we trust?
Since the leaders are debased.
Now both the young and old are desperate.
For they have longed been on await.
Perhaps, they might soon actuate.
And what would be the nations fate,
if that happens by a conjugate?
Well, Let's say a big "NO" to war,
And strife for the reformation of the nation's core.
At least...That's all!
The shopping centre's open, the car park it is packed
No sign of mother nature unless it’s been vacuum packed
the car park just a lay by no clue’s what lays beyond
just a dirt track and a factory fence to walk along
traffic noise fades into the background
the birds begin to sing
and an ancient woodland stands before me
an oasis in a land of commerce scared by human hand
mother natures been out painting a lovely shade on blue
a woodland dappled with painted dots
Vincent van gogh would be pleased
when the bluebells show.
Parrotts drumble is an ancient woodland in an industrial centre please click the link to understand the poem many thanks
http://www.staffs-wildlife.org.uk/reserves/parrots-drumble
click on the link you can see a massive shopping centre the wood behind it
you walk down the side of a factory to get to it, and for those who do not live in the uk stoke on trent is an heavy industrial area .
From the Baltics
Weighing in at
256 lbs.
"Belgium" Paacard Skyrunner!
He posses the ability to be
World's Champion!
Someone fans adore
and the staffs of many
Companies admire.
Ain't hard to love him,
As easy to respect him.
Men in both locker rooms
Like testing there game
against him.
It's said it's most difficult
To defend against him
And easier to loss.
Preparedness is the
difference between who
Buys the steak!
Ladies and gentlemen he is
to be some companies
World's Champion
Let's see if he can do it here
A promise is written in the cement
Rattle the cage
And annoy the lion!
Seven Miles of Stone
4480 the man they
Call Beast!
As they loomed through the sacred grove,
With staffs of Oak and Mistletoe,
Casting Oghams to the wind,
These men are wise with strength within.
They know the secrets of the trees,
And all the critters that live with these,
Once the kings would sort their counsel,
But they are the Wren, out from the wing.
First Irish chief had three eagle feathers,
Where the Bards were called the Fili,
In three worlds they would venture,
For three is sacred to the order, as is Awen.
The king is the eagle in the Duir (oak)
But the Druid is the wren that flys out from his wing.
/|\
The Native Americans have a similar story it goes something like:
As the Eagle soared and was about to claim his kingdom,
Out popped a little wren from under his wing, and flew a few feet higher,
declaring, yes, gaze upon your king, it is I!
In conclusion: It is ok to ride on the coat tail of others as we all do, but at
some point, we all must go out there and make our own path, or own inputs.
For the wren’s nest is also the Druid’s house.
You see it in the old movies,
when Indians come into play,
somebody calls them,”savages,”
and it seems to fry people’s brains.
They flip out, demand censorship,
know nothing of real history,
can’t empathize with either side,
to see how that all came to be.
It’s obvious that most regret
how things happened in these past times,
and they’re not wrong to regret that,
it isn’t that hard to go find
broken treaties and agreements,
politicians playing their games,
most wish that things had gone better,
but history never can change.
Yet this does not change stubborn fact,
and looking back it is well seen
that some things the Indians did
were barbarous to the extreme.
Ritual torture was practiced
on captives by most of the tribes,
and done long before Columbus
ever had the new world in sight.
Like burning people at the stake,
or things that were much more foul,
like tying intestines to trees,
forcing souls to self-disembowel.
Making people run the gauntlet,
to be beaten by hard-swung staffs,
make it through and you might be safe,
if you didn’t…well, that was that.
Now by any modern standards
this is savage, that much is fact,
but honestly, were they alone
when you take the time to look back?
Europe had its iron maidens,
and the rack in medieval days,
and the Turks once were infamous
for leaving many captives flayed.
The Japanese in World War II
treated captives like they were trash,
Britain used to ‘blow out the guns,’
for your sake, please, don’t look up that.
Islamists rape and mutilate
in ways that would leave you disturbed,
and savage Chinese socialists
do awful things to the Uighurs.
But somehow, in this PC age,
we give the Indians a pass,
try to forget what they once did,
this really does strike me as bad.
No people should be above sin,
we see our mistakes from our scars,
to stay at peace none can forget,
must understand all that we are.
It’s important the we know this,
noble savage myths do no good,
especially since we’d forget
if there was a way that we could.
This evil lurks in all mankind,
and it should leave us all non-plussed,
Were the Indians savages? Yes…
but no more than the rest of us.
Long ago duriong my childhood Hon'ble M.L.A.s attended state assembly riding bicycles.
Officers of the govt departmens and staffs attended their offices
riding bicycles.
Policemen in groups went riding bicycles to arrest roadside gamblers.
If caught they were taken to police station on bicycles.
At school our Headmaster, teachers and staff came on bicycles,
some on foot.
As for the students most parents did not allow them to wear long pants nor use bicycles till they clear H.S.L.C. exam.
So they went to schools on foot most of them for miles.
At the college principal, lecturers, staff and studens came riding bicycles.
There were long bicycle sheds in the campus.
But today a few people use bicycles
and on the roads and market places bicycle users are looked down
as poor and starving people
But I dont shed my old habit of riding bicycle
often bumming miles in the countryside.
During the coronavirus lockdown time and again I came out
of the confinement at my home initially with timidity
pedaling my bicycle wearing a protective mask.
Although on the road police stopped the four wheelers, auto rickshaws
and power driven bikes, detained the drivers
or made them turn back non of them stopped me
as they thought bicycle users harmless.
So during lockdown often I pedaled my bicycle to the foot of lonesome
Nongmaijing hill
enjoying the scenary and gentle breeze there,
looking at the egrets flying in the sky and landing on the barren rice fields,
taking snaps of the countryside with my smartphone.
I returned home everytime regaled
without any fear of getting infection with coronavirus
nor police stopping me on the way.