Long Tel Poems
Long Tel Poems. Below are the most popular long Tel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tel poems by poem length and keyword.
I
The historical record shows many intimate connections between Arabs, Muslims, Hebrews and Jews, and Babylon. The nation we equate with Israel began as tribes in the deserts of Arabia. Some of them were allies, some opponents, of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). However, we know his Uncle-in-law was Jewish via Khadijah, and helped the Prophet reject the fear he was insane, for hearing Gabriel speak some of the Old Testament scriptures to him.
II
The synagogue system of worship was begun in Ira q (Babylon)
III
Tel Aviv was a famous Jewish city in Iraq, before it was "revived" in present - day Israel.
IV
Strictly-speaking "Jews" refer to Jesus' tribe, as He is the Lion of Judah; the other 11 tribes of ancient Israel (Hebrew tribes) are the ten tribes of old Israel then called Samaria, or Ephraim with Samaria as the capital. The remaining tribe of Benjamin - from which the great missionary Paul (Saul) descended - was located in JUDEA, or the Southern Kingdom (with Jerusalem as capital).
V
As i pointed out previously, the Samaritans have survived for millennia near Mount Gerizim (adjoining Nablus, in the Occupied West Bank - which some Israelis call SAMARIA even today). They were persecuted by Arabs and Jews as neither fish nor fowl, especially during the 1940s, and during intifadas. West_bank Samaritans remained neutral, declaring their connection with Abraham through Jacob (Yakov) son of Isaac, grandson of Abraham. In the parables, Jesus spent much time showing the Samaritans as "good" and worth saving. Samaritans were not allowed to buy land in Israel after 1948; an exception was made in 1950s near Tel Aviv. Recently UKRAINIAN women are recruited as brides for the dwindling Samaritan population (GOOGLE this). Thanks to Israeli scholars who proved the Samaritan story in the 1950s.
shalom, shalom. Yes, we have differences, but we have much in common!
NOTES:
1. Khadijah, the Prophet's first wife, was a business man, and likely a Christian. Her father, Khuwaylid Ibn Asad was also leader in Quresh tribe.
2. Her relative, Warak -al-Naufal (sometimes El-NORFIL) was a Christian and a minister. Of course he used the Bible in Arabic (as ME Christians still do).
She wants to be alone,all by herself, just the wall, her haircut and the tune in her lips
But not others around her,
She was the doll of every eye,
But how does it change when she suddenly turns old?
Old enough to look out for herself,
Old enough for living a life amidst reality,
Out of fantasies, out of imaginations,
And that's when the truth dawns on her,
The illusion..The depth of love, care, cleverness, affection,
Those wide smiles, open arms that welcomed her and the cute hugs,
That familiar warmth in which was wrapped a bag of lies,
Which blinded her big eyes, her big dreamy eyes,
Where's the one who gave her peace in the form of a lifeless bear?
Where's the one who gave her peace in the form of a dangling cockroach?
Where's the one who gave her peace in the form of words written on water?
Where's the one who gave her peace in the form of loads of books?
Where's the one who showed her the ripon building?
Where's the one who gave her peace in the form of red red flowers?
Where's the one who gave her peace in the form of a blue ribbon?
No she forgets. . .The red ribbon, NOOOO ...the green ribbon.
Yes the green ribbon. . .which held her pony tails when she went to school
They were all beautiful to her big dreamy eyes,
Not the ones, but what they gave and what they showed,
Those sights and experiences. .
And so she reaped the benefit of seeking solace from lifeless things,
The benefit of relying on the lifeless things forever,
A life with the lifeless. . .
You can talk, they never talk back,
You can hurl them down, and they still remain yours,
You can cry and they won't show a different face nor spew venom,
You can tel nice things and stare at their constant faces,
Ah! Now that's the word, "Constant"...
That which we humans are not, the lifeless are..
She loves this life.. . with the lifeless. . .
She has a weapon against the bag of lies. . .a deadly weapon that spews not venom, but love!
Form:
One of the advantages of growing old…one of the things I most adore
is how time slows down allowing me to enjoy the wonders around me a little more.
Yes, once I entered this unhurried state…perhaps the biggest prize…
is the time I have to talk to the trees…the birds…the dolphins…
even the dragonflies.
She landed on my hand…this dragonfly…then looked up at me and smiled….
“I’ve been flying for a long time.” She said. “Do you mind if I rest on you a while?”?
“Not at all.” I said as we walked together on the sand…
(actually I did all the walking while she rested in my hand.)
I thought there’s so much I can learn from her…so much to understand…
until she yawned and asked, “Can you tel me a story?” as she snuggled in my hand.
I wasn’t prepared with a story but I said, “I’ll give it a try.
This is story about the stars that twinkle in the sky.
I bet you didn’t know this little dragonfly…it’s probably something you don’t think about
but a star only begins to twinkle when it’s light is about to go out.
That’s a sign for an angel to fly by and set that twinkling star free….
to thank her for all the light she gave…then gently toss her to the sea.
Sometimes we can see that shooting star…sometimes we catch her final flash
as she transforms into a starfish before entering the water with a splash.
The dragonfly must have been quite tired…I’m sure my story was boring…
but when I looked at my hand…she was sleeping…and I think I heard her snoring.
She slept for quite a while as we walked along the beach that day…
and when she woke…she thanked me for the story…smiled…then flew away.
All the questions I had to ask her…well, I guess they’ll have to keep…
I did, however, learn that dragonflies like to listen to a bedtime story
before they go to sleep.
I arrived in Moscow on a morning veiled in silence,
the sky holding its breath over the Kremlin.
Putin’s eyes met Zelenskyy’s—
not as enemies, but men who had buried too many sons.
The vodka was cold, but the room burned with memory.
I said nothing at first—
sometimes, silence is the loudest wisdom.
Then I spoke:
“Peace is not the absence of war, but the end of vengeance.”
And for once, they listened.
We signed no treaties.
We touched no scrolls.
We shared the blood of truth in our throats.
And the wind outside wept like a mother
waiting for her child to come home from history.
Then I flew to Tel Aviv,
where fear walked in human skin.
Netanyahu sat beneath gold and ghosts.
He asked me, “Will they forgive me?”
I replied, “Only the dead forgive without condition.
But the living—they demand justice with breath and bone.”
His hands trembled.
His voice cracked under the weight of Gaza’s rubble.
And still, I saw a man—
not a monster,
just a soul drowning in the empire’s wine.
I called Trump. I called Ursula. I summoned António.
The room was a battlefield of ideologies.
But truth, like a sword, sliced through the noise:
“No one wins in war. Not truly. Not eternally.”
Five hours later—
The two-state solution,
Rebuilding Palestine,
A decade of reparations,
An erased indictment in exchange for a public confession.
Then I boarded a plane for Sudan.
Congo. Libya.
Where peace still bleeds slowly
into the soil of forgotten kingdoms.
I carry no title.
No crown.
Just a pen sharper than any bayonet
and a heart that cannot stop mourning.
Call me what you will—
Diplomat, heretic, dreamer,
But know this:
When the last bomb drops,
When the last child cries,
It will not be generals who write the future—
It will be poets.
Actor's Guild of ritual 'arts'
Secret ritual Oaths exchanged for luxurious material lives
Outward behaviour, manners; betraying what they really are and of course what they hide,
Though if it were not so
hidden in Plain Sight,
We would not have seen
what they always were,
The Fickle mob shall not
know a bloody thing,
Unecessarily kept dumbed down,
With their 'sophisticated' play acting, celebrities, musicians,
supporting actors, playrights,
Are avowed,
And yet belong to elite and hideous Crown
So the righteous masses
now versus,
This heinous satanic fake nobility,
Struggle of ages - Karmic written verses
Now curiously benefits semi enlightened,
Previous numb and wretched
inability
Those ranting sychophant agents
are but greedy Luciferian pawns
With script, face and masks
in one hand
The other hidden, tho reveals;
A Bond to occult subversive band
With radio, film and tel-lie-vision,
You could not otherwise see
What Mind Control agendas have actually been written,
The whole world in numbing trance, to then agree..
We have not been given time,
To realise their inadvertent message,
Tho the apple has been bitten
Masonic rites of passage,
The fruit has long since fallen from the tree,
Remember this the forefathers told us,
People sadly are invariably not always,
what they present themselves to be
The skill therein lies within,
An extremely well funded and
over paid,
ability to deceive us
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
August 28th 2021
During covid 19 lockdowns
The PoetTree
Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared
tacto significativo---french verse
toucher significatif
Ah! un tel sens
toucher significatif
comme la pluie au printemps plongeant sur mon corps
comme le vent frais souffle me touche la peau se lève se sent comme la chair de poule
Ah! une telle touche
quelle ruée
toucher significatif
Le soleil va briller après la pluie
La guérison vient après les douleurs
Ici, je me sens comme si quelque chose
Il t'a mordu à l'oreille
Il est si peu clair, si peu clair que votre corps tremble tremblements dans la peur
Ah! juste, juste un...
Significatif, une telle
Une touche significative
Les poils à l'intérieur de vos oreilles reçoivent les chuchotements
une douce voix douce et je le reçois
Je peux le sentir, je le sens
Oui, je vais t'aimer
Liken la pluie tombe
Aussi comme le vent souffle
Tous les environs vous touchent
Une telle vue érotique impressionnante
Aimez cela et vous tous tellement
tacto significativo
Ah! such a meaningful
;Meaning touch
Ah! such a meaningful
meaningful touch
like the rain in springtime dipping on my body
as the cool wind blows touches me skin rises feels like goose-bumps
Ah! such a touch
what a rush
meaningful touch
The sun is gonna shine after the rain
The healing comes after the pains
Here I feel as though something
Has bitten you on your ear
It's so unclear, so unclear your body quakes embers in fear
Ah! just, just a...
Meaningful, such a
Meaningful touch
toucher significatif
Meaning touch
1/21/19
written by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©
for a little slander
The new president of America has told Europe to look after its own defense which means NATO without the USA’s help becomes a boy’s club for retired politicians pretending, they are a fighting force eager to defend Ukraine which can’t be done without dragging without risking a serious world war, they hands are tied since Ukraine s not in NATO, an easy excuse because we know it is not true, but it has not stopped leaders in Europe to hammer their support of Ukraine to get at the Russians although knowing the war could have been avoided but for idiotic policies
Oh, how Europe’s leaders hugged Ukraine to their hearts delivering money and weapons to what was and is a corrupt regime
How quickly they changed tunes when the USA told the truth, mates you are on your own we will not defend you anymore you are masters in your land and responsible for your own security How sweet it was to my ears spoken by a man we vilify because he wears a tie too long for the snobs in Brussels who has a leader that wears her hair as fashioned like a helmet
After a shocked silence voices were heard but the man was right, we are responsible for our security -silly sods- Suddenly -Ukraine was no longer Europe and must find peace with Russia Spring thawed in February, on Valentine's Day on a day when Macron’s and Obama’s wives exchanged glances
For us, we were humbled and ignored it was a great day too finally the war is not imminent but we must not forget the clever people in Tel Aviv will find a way to upset the Apple chart
MY STRENGTH.
In the middle of it all I conquer,
Not even a giant can defeat me,
Deep down my soul I am strong,
Even with their weapons I prevail,
With every insult I am made stronger,
Every wrong word becomes right,
Utterance of a curse becomes a blessing.
They push me aside am back on track,
They make me a stone the builders refused,
Along the line they make me a corner stone,
Like Samson my strength is enormous,
Like David I refuse their temptations,
When they speak death God speaks life,
For in his wings I live in his warmth.
In their trials I refuse to give in,
Even in hunger I cannot do their wish,
Like Jesus I won’t turn a stone to bread,
I won’t test God my lord in a fall,
But when I am out to help I will bless,
If I can multiply breads and fish I would,
If I would heal the sick I would heal,
Just so they can know there is God.
You look at me you see a failure,
Just because you’re judging my cover,
You don’t open my heart and look inside,
For you don’t even have the key to,
Because god is guarding it from poison,
For in purity I am made stronger,
By he who see me from the inside.
I want to dance till my clothes go off,
Not an impure dance but a dance of purity,
A dance which will glorify and honors the one,
Whose voice roars like thunder,
Sending shills among the nations,
For this is the reason I am stronger,
Prevailing when the storms rise against me.
BERNARD WACHIRA
ORIGINAL POEM
Email:benniekngs72@yahoo.com
Tel:+2540707472370
Near the last few days of moving, my parents came to me. I knew that at this time
with their pleading looks, they were asking for the decision that would change
everything. It took all of my strength to tel them, yes we should move. After they
left, tears rolled stained my pillowcase. The only thing I could think about was
James. Why did it have to be now, that I feel so strongly about a boy. At the time it
seemed so unfair. As a young woman I tended to dramatize everything, and
definetly could not see the full picture.The full picture that fate really interferes
with life. I think its very wierd, how for all those years of my youth that I had never
really developed any form of relationship with any other boys. It almost makes it
seem like he is the one. Because I had finally found him, and then it was time to
pack up and leave. Despite everything he and I have made it through. Its funny
how things work out.
The hardest part, was telling James. We walked to the beach, and I stared at him
and he knew I came baring bad news. I will forever remeber that moment in
time. "James, my family is moving to Toronto. I am so, so sorry." I felt as if I had
just ripped out my own heart and handed it over to him. He looked away into the
lake, and I could see the sorrow in his eyes. I looked the other way as tears
rolled down my cheek, and I remeber hearing him say that everything was going
to be alright. At the time, nothing seemed as it would be ok.
Form:
In truth, this right is the most paramount,
for on it all of the others rely,
when law breaks down, when tyranny reigns,
I think people will quickly realize
that against such a ruthless, honorless foe,
the only way to protect rights that are yours,
is to be ready to stand for yourself,
to counter their aggression with force.
As long as that ability is in your hands
they can never reduce you to slaves,
even if they kill you they will not have won,
they’ll have only bought themselves a grave.
And I think that it also needs to be said,
despite years of feminist clap-trap,
that the weight of driving back the wolves
will forever fall upon us chaps.
Though exceptions will occur here and there,
history’s example tel us no lies,
no country defended by just women
has ever found a way to survive.
It isn’t that their hearts, or their will,
aren’t strong in intent or in class,
it’s that our evolution has sculpted men
for the more violent and brutal tasks.
In the end every man is a soldier, cop,
even if he never took up that flag,
we live every day abiding by rules,
but must, at a moment, get all big and bad.
This thin veneer of civilization,
can at the slightest trouble be ripped off,
if men aren’t ready, can’t shoulder the load,
then our world becomes misery and loss.
This is our strength, one we must live up to,
and though at times it seems a tragic one,
if a man’s not criminal, nor insane,
then it’s his duty to purchase a gun.