Long Uprise Poems
Long Uprise Poems. Below are the most popular long Uprise by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Uprise poems by poem length and keyword.
The Standing One
Hidden away
But still at bay
Just as the clouds hide the Sun
He is the one chosen to rise
Fight with no compromise
Set fire to the city of evil
And set free the masses, the people
The Standing One, the king of all
As the messiahs of the earth
Get on their knees and fall
In Prayer
Behind the Leader
For now he is hidden
As his family before him was ridden
By the cruel tyrants
Who usurp the throne as aspirants
A throne that is beginning to reject them as authority
And heavily deceived by the majority
But like the Sun behind clouds
His disappearance is only a shroud
As the Standing One and his effect still remains
Just as the Sun warms the earth freely and not detained
The Standing One warms our conscience
And brings us to conscious
Of the heartless world, so monstrous
And the tyrants words', so pompous
In their cold, oligarchical caucus
Full of self-interest, profit, and darkness
And soon the Standing One will appear
To rise as humanity's last amir
Catching the tyrants and oppressive by surprise
And returning balance and justice through his uprise
He will crash the markets
He will destroy their profits
He will eliminate division
And will free the imprisoned
Race will be eradicated
To make room for unity
And corrupt systems will be annihilated
To set the stage for polity
The Standing One will fight fire with fire
And establish the just utopia we so desire
Uniting the world under one flag
And turning the world into something other than a body bag
So let us all Stand together
For we are all Standing with him
Waiting and watching
Let the world know that we are ready
To rise at his call, from the heavens above
To establish the just world we all dream of
To put an end to this nightmarish ride
And establish the perfect Kingdom worldwide
We will not ride alone on this momentous journey.
We will ride gathering our numbers, from the great mountains.
We will travel to the valley of rivers, towards the great ocean.
For we have a great army.
Those who enslaved us with their power, stand on the top of the hill.
They stare down over the army below.
An army of vengeance we have gathered.
We will ride to the battle field at the great buildings.
Our intent is to wage war.
Fear will not take us.
You are weak supremacy, you will die by the sword.
You will die by the hand of my fellow warriors.
This is war.
Blood will be spilt.
Men will draw their last breaths as they fall back onto mother earth.
Mother Earth will soak up the spilled blood of our brothers and sisters.
We will be fierce and haste not.
We the suppressed will not retreat.
We the people will rise, with swords and fists.
We are ready to die for what is equitably ours.
This is not an illusion.
The fight against the money mongers, the powers that be.
Those that hold the power, will feel our angry wrath.
None will go unscathed.
We will watch the blood spill in and about the great buildings.
Down the concrete stairs it will flow, rich, deep cherry red.
Into the green of the grass, it flows.
Fear will choke your breath.
Reflections of your past, rushing before you.
Thoughts of the dead, invade your mind.
Hollow is the cry of war, as we charge ahead to fight the battle.
To take the final stand, to give it our all.
Justice will reign by the sword and the all mighty hand.
Judgement day has arrived with this great army gathered beside us.
We will ride, steadfast into the fray.
Make no mistake this day will come upon the powers that be.
What is it with the fans and the guy known as
" Big Meanie" Maze? Some may be used to calling
him "The Craze" of Fresno: there were he defeated
Five reigning champions in one night! An off the grid
Superstar who once wrestled(defending against two
top notch contenders:.when his partner defaulted
and refuse to make the date, he was lefted to defend by
himself). "They made a mountain out of a mole hill: my
Partner was a jerk: the promotion wanted me to find a new
partner , I said screws you and took the job and retained!"
"I aint need no stinking partner!For the rest of my title
defenses my manager stood on the apron while I did the work!"
One night I bought a Big maple syrup barrel in the ring
with pillows tied around it: the jerk ref asked where was my partner,
I say's you son of a bytch: can't
you see the barrel of fun I just came in ith"
The barrel had a uprise.at the end of the match, my new partner
crawled from under the ring
and got under the barrel and when I went for the tag, he jumped out!
The place went wild.
We began using the "Big Barrel of Fun" gimmick bring
a barrel ringside and dumping ah fella
in it getting the countout win.
Until them Big nastys came in to the terrotry.
Smuck and Numbskull ruined our reign.
They were nomanated as tagteam of the year six years in a row and won.
I gave up on tagging: then I became Champion of Champion
contender and Champion!
Report Filed by
Toyo Siku
From The Big City Journel
Column Six
the Panflute Report
Rassling Publications Inc
and Mid-day Media LLC
The new thang is this article come up on scene: the panflute signals
the start of the segment! This Guy is a jerk!
The Fight for Freedom
Three or four thousand years ago,
The ancient Greeks fought for Liberty
As now we know.
And before them, the persecuted Jews,
Rebelled against the yoke of tyranny.
Although the ?ght for Freedom
Was long and hard,
In the end they did not lose
And Freedom rose unscarred!
Centuries later the English people did uprise
Or their freedom would have surely died
And King John, the unkind
The Magna Charter had to sign.
For Freedom many men have died
And for it they a King de?ed.
Freedom is such a precious thing
No one can take it away
Not even a King.
And so it goes through all the centuries,
How men have worked and bled and died,
How men have fought for Freedom
With their women by their side.
These things we now recall
In the midst of the greatest Battle of them all.
All over the world men are dying today
That we may live in peace tomorrow.
And in the peace that’s yet to come
We will not hate and none we’ll shun.
“Black, yellow, brown or white”,
We’ll say, “These and all the others
We are proud to call our brothers.”
And when that happy day arrives,
I think that God up in His skies
Will say, with voice so mild,
“Now I am proud to say, Man is my child."
The Fight for Freedom
Three or four thousand years ago,
The ancient Greeks fought for Liberty
As now we know.
And before them, the persecuted Jews,
Rebelled against the yoke of tyranny.
Although the ?ght for Freedom
Was long and hard,
In the end they did not lose
And Freedom rose unscarred!
Centuries later the English people did uprise
Or their freedom would have surely died
And King John, the unkind
The Magna Charter had to sign.
For Freedom many men have died
And for it they a King de?ed.
Freedom is such a precious thing
No one can take it away
Not even a King.
And so it goes through all the centuries,
How men have worked and bled and died,
How men have fought for Freedom
With their women by their side.
These things we now recall
In the midst of the greatest Battle of them all.
All over the world men are dying today
That we may live in peace tomorrow.
And in the peace that’s yet to come
We will not hate and none we’ll shun.
“Black, yellow, brown or white”,
We’ll say, “These and all the others
We are proud to call our brothers.”
And when that happy day arrives,
I think that God up in His skies
Will say, with voice so mild,
“Now I am proud to say, Man is my child."
The gift I'm giving you is already inside your traits
Smile at me only if your grin extends to your gaze.
A genus, warm, and lovely smile brightens your face.
I provide you dreams that rouse hope and grace.
I propose to you hues of joy as the glow of blaze.
The gift I'm giving you is already inside your traits.
I offer you tender and heartfelt views and embrace.
My gift to you is wider than just my inheritance phase.
A genus, warm, and lovely smile brightens your face.
My awe for you is akin though an angel aloft in space.
The ease of life is the fruit of giving in lovely praise.
The gift I'm giving you is already inside your traits.
The prize I'm giving you is wiser than the cosmos ace.
The present I am giving you is a prize from the uprise.
A genus, warm, and lovely smile brightens your face.
You, my kids, are the sunrise that dulls the fiercest case.
My gift to you is pure, total commitment! and love rays
A genus, warm, and lovely smile brightens your face.
The gift I'm giving you is already inside your traits.
Written: June 26, 2021
The Gift That I Give You Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Zikketmen Uprise
Sillpy glopin honey drop slowly dripping in a gooey flop.Fropling trolippy skitterbug bleeringly rupoling the door
Dewy molifropinin weterings kladet in holimeter lines as criggol meets the Zikketmen.
But vasping ants jig molky polky on the derbholkpin as if chinnyzilcobble.
Meanwhile the phettering teeblers sang joop, joop, joop and booby crackle flew over in the feetumleftumground.
The crumbwarblers screamed " hooji folpityquif bollp" but the zikketmen knew it was a lie.
"Who are you ? ", said the phettering teeblers as they oxiety the suggits.
Huge swarms of vasping squiding ants who were oblivious to the drama grigged the blodderpad and swung it violently towards the skitterbugs just as they finished their meal.
" I fooled the zikketmen" said the chief teebler.
But just then booby crackle landed a heavy blow to the chiefs vast head and dripping masses of joolping green blood poured from his brainincasementholderthingy.
As if by magic zeery eyed cooljinmen had appeared in fighting mood.
Yelping ground slippits burrowed deep in to the sludge pockets and closed their eyes in fear.
Form:
Written for the contest "Poe in the style of Plath" sponsored by Tom Woody
I am a weakling against supremely star-studded skies
Where stolen streams of light are not enough for it to uprise
My warrior soul is on knees, as sour scars cut very deep
The vinegary wounds in my veins can cause stones to weep
To cross this apocalyptic abyss, I only have frightened might
Avalanche of agony has hit volcanic edge of my perilous plight
No savior comes to the rescue, as I lay with my frozen fears
Fighting, fighting eversince, I found no way past trail of tears
Am I a cowardly creature just to ask for a breath of peace?
Too many of rainbows before my eyes, I can't tell apart malice
Too numb to flap wings of hope only, so I lied in my poems oftentimes
Not a melody of glazed strings, life sounds a lot like rusty rhymes
I hope I met the requirements of the challenge. I have read a few of Poe's and Plath's poems only, I just hope I was able to do justice to keep the macabre vibes of both of these poets' writing style. Thank you for this wonderful contest Tom!
I am not lost, I am just wandering
through this forest of words and lines
leading me into unknown places
and times long forgotten.
I am a wanderer, a traveler,
a seeker of beauty and truth.
I follow the call of my heart,
the whisper of my soul.
I am not afraid to get lost
within the tangled web of life.
It is then that I find my way
in those moments of wandering.
I allow my feet to take me wherever,
my heart guides me through the night.
At the uprise of the morning sun,
I'll be ready for a new delight.
The world is full of wonderful things,
and I want to see them all.
From towering mountains to endless seas,
No sight's too great or too small.
So let me wander, let me roam
to lands so far away and shores unseen.
In these journeys is my heart free
And my spirit soars high and clean.
And when I am old and grey,
and wanderings no more.
Memories then to comfort me,
my heart once more to soar.
For wanderlust can never be cured,
a constant flame of fire,
a song within, that cries inside,
longing, some impossible desire.
Seeing that deep rooted tree
founded in soils rich and boldly painful
Lay praise to worthy and spite to shameful
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Old souls spiral in his words like scrolls unfurling over cliffs
ancestors hardships ingrained in phrasing
Reminding, remembering, rejoicing...rebuking
That which you might not say
sprays from every line
Never just in saying his piece
but asking yours...provoking that warrior
we forget our place in days of complacency
padding around like finicky kittens
his urge is your roar and uprise
a write is but musings of our mind
unless it encourages yours
I've urged his rain to fall
as I will bring mine to amass
as should we all ...to flood and conquer
the settling of soil into stubborn unthinking sediment
~~~~A Tribute to a poet who inspires my mind and provokes my thoughts...L'Nass Shango
Bring The Rain!!!!!