Long Titans Poems
Long Titans Poems. Below are the most popular long Titans by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Titans poems by poem length and keyword.
Beneath the frozen dome of a late December, I learned with melancholy
That those who gave me wings are not the titans I summoned in my childhood dreams,
But two earthlings, stirring my dreams into an aura, breathing whims of ice and smoke into the cauldron of my being.
And in that harsh month of ice, when my soul huddled beneath the timid dawns,
The mug of hot chocolate by my bed becomes a herald, laden with unspoken words,
The warmth of a mother saying without words how much you need to warm yourself at life's bosom,
And I, unknowingly trampling over gifts with ignorance, with a silent longing buried in routine.
Oh, how I wish I had known how to unravel the thread of love, for it is an art crushed by the weight of the earth,
It struggled through dungeons of misunderstandings, attempted, I understand now, to tear down the cold walls between us,
I would like to take back the harsh words, the disputes that scratched the delicate veil of our connection,
But I was only a dandelion in the wind's path, a child who did not understand that this play is most earnest.
And as I step towards the dawn of a new phase, at last aware,
I realize there are no castles without shadows, that each family is a legacy of forgiveness and forgetting,
Love, an ancient coin that we are still learning to pay the right price for, it starves us and sometimes satiates,
And now, I see that it, always trying to mend what we have torn, still extends the thread back to me.
I would have liked to have been more whole, to have answered the call of her heart with honesty, without denial,
But reality knocked me down with fragments of walls, and I remained there, a child with the world on his shoulders,
Stripped of excuses and pretexts, with an open heart to the truth - all that have made us what we are today.
When I retreat into the hearth of the night, I find the blanket spread over me, hiding my fleshly embarrassments,
And when I look up at the sky, maybe I erred, but in the infinite blue I understand that it is never too late,
Life without those pawns who ignited the spark in the archers on the chessboard is inconceivable to me,
And no matter how fate weaves and unravels, everything started with them,
And an overwhelming sense holds me, that it will all end with them too.
A battlefront benefactress,
She has her fortress, a fortified Princess, inside the dungeon of distress,
Tiled with the bone chips of ingratitude colored in pigments of black bright & rugid red,
An arrowhead chandelier illuminated by wicked tears, wet with woe,
Everybody saw her wedding dress, they all knew the warfield wardrobe,
But how many cared to touch her sorrow gown, how it hung on those exhausted shoulders,
The lilac one piece she wore for private pain,
Gain gauged by perseverence of self defense, vengence on Victory's tombstone,
How many visit that ceremony, where love is isolated amidst jealousy's cackle,
Do any of them frown with sympathy for the debt of her crown,
For every jewel in the tierra there exists a bruise upon her beautiful body,
An assault levied by the 'learned', the rape of a writer wrought by the wretchedly wanton,
Honors earned ransomed by pitiful rivalry, kindness taken in the grip of disingenuous delight,
Some say her very name is a curse, an anethema from some God foresaken moon,
Poet Destroyer, 'Too much nerve, too much passion' they exclaim,
Its only natural for her ingrown throne to be a thorn
In the fingertip of the editorial 'elite',
They know we will bleed for her grace like the children of wild sport,
The Poet Destroyer shall not hurt us as educators of deformity do,
She will not impose false limits on our brows,
She will not strike our eyes with rotten ink,
And look now you vultures of vice, we are Legion,
We are Brothers and Sisters of the Quill, raise your sight and behold our Worshipful Queen,
She rests not long in the sanctuary of her inner star, here we are,
Leading the war march towards you with captured & dried quills
Of imposter poets lashed to her sheild of cauterized parchment
Imprinted with the blessings of all literary Titans who have warred before,
We step forward While chanting in crazed concentration,
Oh woe to you,
Victors of vanity, victims of sanity!!!
This composition has been made in honor of the Poet Destroyer, aka. Linda,
A beautiful woman, a guiding Light, a warrior of liberated and Divine Art.
J.A.B.
Where sun-kissed savannahs endlessly sweep,
And acacia crowns the skies, a verdant keep,
A titan walks, with earth-shaking tread,
A monument of grace, with wisdom bred.
Oh, Elephant, colossal and wise,
Your eyes, like embers, gleam beneath the skies.
Your ivory tusks, like sun-bleached spears,
Pierce the heavens, dispelling all our fears.
Through emerald depths, you silently stride,
A living fortress, with nature as your guide.
Your trunk, a trumpet, blasts a rhythmic call,
Echoing through valleys, grand and tall.
With a gentle touch, you pluck a leafy prize,
Nourishing your form, beneath the sunlit skies.
Matriarch wise, with love unbound,
You lead your herd, on sacred, ancient ground.
Oh, Elephant, guardian of the plains,
Your ears, like maps, etched with wisdom's gains.
You listen to the whispers of the earth,
Guiding your steps, is a testament to your worth.
But shadows lurk, a darkness cast afar,
Where greed and folly wage a callous war.
Forests recede, and poachers stalk the night,
Threatening your future, with a consuming blight.
Let us stand tall, and raise a voice so strong,
To shield these giants, where they rightfully belong.
For in their presence, we find our guiding light,
A mirror to our soul, a future ever bright.
So let us cherish them, these titans of the land,
Protecting their haven, with a caring hand.
For in their grandeur, a truth we come to see,
Respect for all creatures, eternally.
Oh, Elephant, may you forever roam,
In lands untamed, your true and sacred home.
A timeless emblem, of strength and majesty,
Forever etched, in Earth's tapestry.
AFCON GRAND FINALE
In the grand Afcon ring so vast and grand,
The Super Eagle of NIGERIA takes a stand,
In feathers of green and with grace so bold,
Ready to conquer and fierce to behold.4
But lo, the Elephant of COTE D'IVOIRE
Stands with strength, a spirit that'll inspire,
In mighty strides and with an unyielding force,
It trumpets its power, ready for the course.8
In this grand finale, the stage is set,
Two noble beasts with glory to be met,
Eagle and Elephant, in battle, they'll soar,
In a timeless dance like never before.¹²
The crowd roars passionly, tension intense,
As these titans clash in a mighty defence,
For in this Afcon spectacle, we'll see,
The beauty of sports is pure and free.¹6
So let's celebrate this clash of might,
In the vibrant colours of the African night.
Whether it's victory or defeat, passion for all,
They'll inspire us all as the Eagle & Elephant brawl.²°
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©? 10th February 2024.
Temporal a passage traipse in units,
Partitioned Earth's axis and Sun's movements.
Temperate seasons buds the cosmos plains,
Text the gods, links the nightshade, spare the chains.
Constellate heaven, possession errs bliss,
Lease the sky morning dew, sunrise--lips kiss.
Evergreen sanctioned untrimmed yields to gold.
Shade, consumed by the sun, glaring, behold.
The complexion, the surface enlightens.
Eternal trolls rest, withdraw the Titans,
Unique tan for the wayward souls loosen,
Fading footed beach traces ought proven.
Temperate gold buds, untrimmed, lease heaven,
The eternal god's shade Sun's complexion.
I still stand
Have a chance
Mike in my hand
Lyrically band
Drums beating
Cymbals clashed
Titans passed
Powers situations
Bolts metaphorically hating
Pacing Blues
Sue pursue
Royalties with no moves
Jacking prices
To get a sail
Back down river bends and boats
Seattle with no coasts
Trailing door knobs without a turn
Skipped
Tripped Sun burn
Comcast
Infinity
Antennas remotely
Coated Symphony
Operatic Anomalies
Fake paced with properties
State faced moralities
Given sentence no warning
Exclamation interrogation
Periodically visitations
Paroled up
Handcuffs taken to another case
What stand
Back at it again
Chance
To whom it may concern; I don't have a memory of being afraid of the dark, from the youngest of age never fearing angels, demons or anything with a spark.
Eight-legged critters seem more like a friend, but anything with a heartbeat and most without, I will always defend.
Some of the worst things people can experience: heights, claustrophobic, loss of a loved one, death, has no concern on me, I’m living life to the fullest of every breath.
There's not a monster in the world that’s scarier than any with-in, spent twenty years in religion to come out more confused, humming a hymn.
More than a fear, more like scares the hell out of me, the acts humans can do to other humans and jus act like let it be...
To whom it may concern fears couldn't grip me with titans power, I have lived my life with no regrets I have seen death it's not bad if your life wasn't sour.
The Past
Our world is beautiful.
It is old, and it is young.
The difference between...
immortality and humanity.
Giants of enormous size, and strength,
titans mentioned, in the great Book.
Unicorns and talking donkeys,
dinosaurs, and a jabberwocky.
Dragons, and even great whales...
used by the hand of the Lord.
Written about, written down...
to be read again and again,
to know the wonders of our yesterday.
Pyramids, massive statues to lesser-thans,
destroyed and disassembled into dust.
Years wearing away what was,
to leave behind only what is,
or what is left,
to tease us,
and appease our sense of adventure,
and our lust for treasure.
Libraries burned to the ground,
or great arts stolen from their rightful places,
taken to hidden rooms,
coveted by shades that can not use them,
or remember why...
they wanted them at all?
We go to school,
and learn what is given to us.
Yet the truth is bleeding out, all around.
It is like water, seeking every level...
from the Arctic Circle,
to the content of Antarctica.
Science and religion attempting to describe...
what can not be explained,
without faith.
When going out it frightens me,
I can feel the tension as it builds
Like clash of the titans, the anxiety,
It now feels like it's war of the worlds
My mouth becomes dry, my lips, I lick
This feeling like I'm going to collapse
I'll health, a situation where I feel sick
Again this now feels like it's a relapse
And when your always stuck in that cue
And all you then want is to get from a - b
It always feels like a rush to get through
That’s when I started to feel so panicky
I can't breathe ,that feeling a loss of air
That’s how it did feel when I was outside
Just wanting to leave get on out of there
But trying to find my self a place to hide
It got even worse, my eye sight went blurry
That’s when everything started to turn black
Should I then see the nurse it was so scary
I thought here again it's another panic attack
When ever I'm in these large open spaces
That is something that get's me so annoyed
When looking at you all these different faces
That is what always makes me so paranoid.
Parts of this were taken from an old poem idea I rewrote and scaped so many times
called misshaps felt this better as descibes tha event but how I do get at times even now
but again like others up dating put into better context OPEN SPACES
WRITTEN BY MY SELF DAVIDSCOTT FEB MARCH 2013 ,,,,,,,,,,inspierd by past present situations
and friends family at those times
PLEASE SOMEONE TELL ME IF THIS TO LONG I FEEL IS BUT ALSO WANTED TO GIVE A LITTLE INSIGHT TO
TME AND SPACE ETC WITHOUT REPEATING MY SELF???
If only I could give this world my best,
harbored in this port of call of restless
desires deep inside a ship in raging foam,
I’d find a way to make my way back home.
Digging deep into my sleep and slumber,
never more would I ignore the wonder
of sunrise colors painted on the sky,
or seeing your perfection through these eyes.
Peering past tomorrow’s whispering Titans calls,
to hear the ring of angels sing for all
lifting you above the dew and dreary,
weightless and devoid of feeling weary.
To pass God’s gift from underserving lips,
to stranger, lover, friend, who may begin
finding solace, meaning, that does prevail,
would fill my cup and lift me up in sails.
If only I could give to you my best,
I’d pray that every day brings happiness
to you and those who love you like a rose,
the scent of all your goodness, I suppose.