Long Stewart Poems
Long Stewart Poems. Below are the most popular long Stewart by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stewart poems by poem length and keyword.
March is a time of transition
winter and spring commence their struggle
between moments of ice and mud
a robin appears heralding the inevitable
life stumbling from its slumber
it was in such a period of change in 1905
that the House of Physics
would see its Newtonian axioms
of an ordered universe collapse
into a new frontier
where the divisions of time and space
matter and energy
were to blend as rain and wind
in a storm that broke loose
within the mind of Albert Einstein
where Brownian motion danced
seen and unseen, a random walk
that became his papers marching through science
reshaping the very fabric of the universe
we have come to know
we all share a common ancestor
a star long lost in the eons of memory
and yet in that commonality
nature demands a permutation
a perchance genetic roll of the dice
which births a new vision
lifting us temporarily from the mystery
exposing some of the roots of our existence
only to raise a plethora of more questions
as did the papers of Einstein in 1905
SAN DIEGO 9/05 Philosophy of Science Portal
Tim Ray Poet Colleague
i was working as a "Stringer" for the above blog searching the Internet for articles on physics and philosophy and was asked to write this as part of a celebration of the 100-year mark of Einstein's papers. i do not do requests but i conceded for reasons. my claim to fame herein is a poke at Einstein's statement that God does not play with dice, however, was not he a permutation in the scheme of things? and lest we forget he objected to the Big Bang theory holding onto the Steady State with other scientists because it was too much like Genesis. and lost to Bohr over Quantum Entanglement, settled by John Stewart Bell...but who is counting? and these peccadillos stand in little shadows of those papers in 1905.
Belonging means different things to people
each of us have ideas what is to belong
many throughout their life have roamed
following their own notion staying strong
You choose where you gonna be
that place to call your home
there you would be so peacefully
knowing where you put your comb
Home can be there in that moment
specially enjoying that precise time
it can be in a hostile or good position
no matter what whether to fall or climb
Your feelings will empower you
whatever the situation may be
so go and reap your moment
make sure to climb that tree
You certainly do belong where you are
whether at your Laramie it ain't so far
(QUOTE:
'I belong where I am' - James Stewart in movie the man from Laramie)
The vibrant popinjay has gone.' The harlequin no more really
Spins in song.' The magic's now all in a can.' Younger female backers
Parry times looming advance plan..' The age'd icon takes his glances
Across the acres, of yearning souls in hopefull trances..Parody banners they lie.' beneath sultry skies.' Echo the effigy of the past, See it burned in the mans eyes.'
Actions Describe.' Writ large the irony of life.' Youth has
Flown.' All hail its ghost, Ronnie strums, the speakers hum.'
Geri-acrity...Fumbles combinations and with alacrity..' 0yet theres really not one chance.' No way back.' All I see is false hope.' Rod Stewart is a husk.' Not yet voiceless.' Nor danceless yet
Its the back end, of the romance.!
A beautiful young woman who came from very near,
was off and running with a great acting career.
She starred in a movie with Clark Gable titled "Mogambo".
Later, she was paired with James Stewart in "Rear Window".
A great film by the name of "High Society" would show.
There were a few other movies we would get to know.
This actress soon met the prince from the tiny country of Monaco.
They tied the knot, and off she would go.
For this lucky prince, Grace made a wonderful wife.
Tragically, a fatal car accident took her life.
I thank imdb.com for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
In a short time, you will be my executioner.
Your actions shall be considered a favor.
You say to me “Lady, please forgive me”.
I, Mary Stuart, am grateful for your sympathy.
You are putting me out of my misery.
It was purely by providential chance,
that I should rule both Scotland and France.
My first bout with misfortune was the scene
where my French king husband Francois died at sixteen.
I would return to my native Scotland right away.
I faced subjection by my half-brother Earl of Moray.
James Stewart and John Knox scorned my presence.
Peace between Protestants and Catholics found no permanence.
With this problem, I became heavily involved.
During my reign, practically nothing could be solved.
My cousin Elizabeth has been a thorn in my side.
Her disdain and disfavor she chooses not to hide.
Elizabeth proposed with blatant effrontery,
that I marry the Earl of Leicester, Robert Dudley.
Such a marriage would bring an English-Scottish alliance.
I would have been a fool to submit to compliance.
My marriage to my cousin was out of defiance.
I thought I could love Henry, Lord Darnley.
However, Henry’s actions became a liability.
He helped kill one of the noblest men I would know.
Scottish Lords conspired to murder David Rizzio.
During my reign, troubles compounded all the while.
Soon I found myself a ruler without a nation.
Adversaries forced me to agree to abdication.
I would be placed into imprisonment during exile.
My involvement in the Babington Plot is the reason
why I am being executed for high treason.
Please let your blow be both swift and clean.
It shall release me from this ignominious scene.
I wanted England and Scotland to live in harmony.
May I be remembered this way throughout history.
Mary's son, James VI of Scotland eventually became King James I of a united England and Scotland.
-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet-
Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause
The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance,
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest,
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein
You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal,
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."
I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter,
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer
Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light,
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes,
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.
If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause
by;PD
I do it for fun
In the early Winter morn, in the Seargent's footsteps,
They followed on the burned, barren earth,
A place so strange, but so familiar, he looked around,
A sign lies, on the naked land, "St. George Vill.", it read,
In a frenzy, he wondered at the town that made him,
Now buried in its own grave,
While his Comrades rested their tired legs,
He ran, like a deer from its predator, hither and thither,
"Frederick Stewart" it read on the sign, the house's only identity,
The house looked as if a canvas drenched and stomped,
He looked on, as still as a windless night,
A pat of a small hand, he felt on his thigh, a little boy,
About two, neither a drop fell nor did he smile,
When the world saw two years, the town saw a hundred, he thought,
He embraced the boy, kissed on his cheeks, but,
No cry or laughter was heard, only stillness,
He took the boy inside the gloomy home, if,
It was home anymore, sat at the dining table,
He looked on at the hanging pictures, perhaps,
The only proof of its inhabitants,
In a picture, a boy laughs, on the same table,
A cake infront, as people heard clapping,
He looks at the wide smile of the picture,
And the deafening, loud silence of the boy,
"Are you from around here?", no answers heard,
"What is your name?", silence answered back,
The boy, now descended from his chair, walked,
His eyes towards him, fingers pointing the ground,
A watch fixed with a large button, it seemed,
" A time machine my father made for me",
The watch made him relive those bygone days,
"When you feel afraid, this is your way home"
He remembers his father's words,
A toy it was, now became a window,
Through which whispers could be heard,
Sweet, haunting and lamenting whispers,
But, as if something clicked in him too,
He ran towards the thing, his chair falling in neglect,
He wore the watch and clicked the button frantically,
" WHY DOESN'T IT WORK!?", he cried as two drops rolled down,
The boy as if awoken, now let out a cry,
The silence was finally broken.
A lovely week spent on the Antrim coast
the weather was decent but not wonderful
seeing such lovely scenery so green
spectacular views of the hills, a hidden jewel
Many highlights experienced on a daily basis
Giant's Causeway is loved by many fans
the water smashes against the shore
making spectacular photos to spread and stand
There's a lovely walk on the dark hedges
where it filmed 'the game of thrones'
see the places it all took place
brings it all back known where it shown
One day had a trip around the Bally places
then stopped at Port Stewart for ice cream
decided to walk the four miles to Portrush
our main base but the sun, just a dream
To Belfast and the Titanic museum
what amazing facts here on show
such a tragedy those years ago
lives lost, many families filled with loss
So that was my Irish travels so engaging
but an enjoyable and truly learning time
on the last day saw Londonderry's great wall
shows all the past battles now peace may rhyme
(My wife and I spent a lovely week in Northern Ireland a few weeks ago so I've composed this piece in memory of a lovely time)
BRING THEM IN (AN ANSWER TO USHER HIM OUT)
Holy Father
I am a devout woman
What is wrong today, With our brothers
Those proclaimed in the church
Self righteous
Haughty
In pride
Claiming to be on mine and God's side
Ushered in, ushered out
Holy Father
Turn about
Change those that lie
Seek the face of them that deny
Stop the many women who cry
Bring them in
Give our men the true mind of Christ
Father help them be honest inside and out of church
We need men of integrity
Men of honor Christ like
This makes better man a husband to be for a wife
Let the men in church put the church in them
Ushered in, ushered out
Holy Father
Turn about
Change those that lie
Seek the face of them that deny
Stop the many women who cry
Bring them in
Women let's take a stand
Lets not settle for just anything
Bring them in, Lord bring them in
In the churches in the lands
Change them Father God, We need God fearing men
Bring them in, Bring them in
Ushered in ushered out
Change both those hearts
Let the women be a helpmate
Let the man follow God as we all should follow Christ
In the streets, the homes, in church day and night
Let us worship and praise,
Let the woman be not dismayed
Bring them in
Change their hearts and minds
Bring them in to the life of Christ
7/20/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
~Dedicated dramatic Verse to poetess “Sonya Stewart” as an answer her “Usher Him Out” poem
You began starring as the Brigadier in Doctor Who over forty years ago.
If you're wondering if people will forget you, the answer is Hell no.
When I saw you starring in Doctor Who, it was always great.
Now your fans mourn because your death is something they hate.
You starred with Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee and several other Doctors too.
You were Brigadier LethBridge-Stewart and you were a great asset to Doctor Who.
You starred with William Hartnell in the Daleks' Master Plan.
Besides being a great actor, you were also a nice man.
You starred in 107 Doctor Who episodes during its 26 year run.
Sadly you died of Cancer in 2011 at the age of eighty-one.
(Dedicated to Nicholas Courtney who died February 22, 2011.)