Long Usher in Poems
Long Usher in Poems. Below are the most popular long Usher in by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Usher in poems by poem length and keyword.
"Bring Me Wine,Myrrh and My Sweetheart Daughter Anabella,
My Little Anabella Loves To Listen To The Voice Of Salome,Her Lyre and Her
Happy Serenade..
Tell My Scribes To Be Fast About Compiling The Exploits Of Their King In His
Last Battle Campaign..What Is a King Without An Updated Chronicle..
Send In My Little Prince For His Voice As He Reads Through His Texts Of
Poetry..Lures The King His Father To a Closer Salient Walk With The gods..
Tell The War Generals To Give Me A detailed Brief of Our Next Campaign.."
At Morn..
"Send In The Finest Of Thy Young Warriors..So I can Test My Stealth In The Very
Face Of Battle and Danger...
What Have Young Men Turned Themselves into..So Lazy,Wanton and Unmanly..
Off My Sight Before I Seek Thy Skulls This Very Instant..
(In Privacy With The Head Warrior)..Oh! Sarskaas Your Young Boys Are one of the
Best in The Region My Training Sessions Are Truelly Refreshing..Tell this not to
them Lest you build the Fruits of Pride and Treachery in their Young Minds..
Do Usher in My Seductive Belles to Show Off Their Waists in Acts of
Poetry,Dance and Linguistic Body Embellishments..."
At Noon..
"You The Dreaded Most Notorious KING Of the Valley..A Demi god,Invincible and
Indestructible..As I Speak Kiss The Sole Of My Feet and eat this dish of Camel
Dung mixed with fine desert sand..
Ax-Man when he finishes his dessert Bring me his Head on My 'Royal Golden
Skull-Dish'..
Usher in the Wise Men of the South..For I want to converse with them in this
same spirit of Saliency..
Stuff the roast Calf portions with a lot of herbs and Spices..You well know its the
Obsession of the Men from The south.."
At Sundown..
"Usher in the different contingents of Musicians to Entertain my Salient Guests...
Wrap My 'Lotus Fumes' Quickly so I can Smoke this Life's Troubles Aways..And
See Through the One Eye of the gods in Solemnity and Blissful Thinkings,
Head Eunuch Do Send A Servant to The Harem..He Should Tell My Queens to
get A-Ready For Their Lord is in Good Shape for Royal Rumbles and More..
Oh! My Faithful Knights your War plans were excellent..Go Now Enjoy and Excite
your souls as much..Retain your honour and have the War at the Back Of your
Minds..
Depart In Peace..Many A-Waists in The Harem are Restless..
I go in to Satisfy My Very Own.."
Welcome Again To The World Of That Certain King..
The Antique store
Antiques she adored, a relic he was.
She had a special place for art.
Unfortunately it wasnt her heart.
I'm clinging on to the older things
the antiques of our time.
Sometimes they break or get lost.
I cannot replace them,
no one can replace them.
But I'd rather have an antique
than nothing at all.
At least I can say I enjoyed it at some point.
Teach me to make beautiful.
No beauty can I find.
Search me whole.
Tell only what thoughts appear to be mine.
First comings need an exit of least disgrace.
No one wants to be kept waiting.
For then their time might never come.
Trimmed antiques in dusty lace.
A whole world
Begging for
Change
Daring to dream
Endless altering realities
Figuring that the end
Generates a new start
Hinging on the application of
'I'
Just in terms of understanding
Knowledge of the self
Learning about the
Magic inside all of us
Nearing that
Ominous future
Persistent in the
Quest for a better tomorrow
Reach for it!
Stand up for it!
Teach the young to
Usher in their new era
Vestiges of ours gone
Without a second thought
Xenoliths of a different time
Yellowed antiques
Zealous youth to push aside our failures
When you don't need me,
you put me on a shelf
with your dusty trophies
you never really earned,
and antiques
you never took care of.
I'm up front, visible,
easy to reach
at your convenience.
But I know you would rather
take what you need from
your precious china cabinet.
Just know that when you fumble,
when you slip up,
and when you stumble,
your precious china will break.
But I will still be here.
I have gathered all time tellers,
grandfather clocks, alarm clocks, phones, watches -
to tell you that : I have all the time in the world for you.
It might not be the most sophisticated way
to say that I have an ear for listening and a heart for consolation,
but don't be too skeptical with my methods.
Forgive me, maybe, perhaps, if I can't be so bold and concise.
At least, now we've got all these antiques to talk about.
he is a lover of brokenness.
he likes antiques,
collecting little fragments of things.
he hates breaking them,
so he finds brokenness,
fixes it up a little,
takes a few pieces and leaves.
he's already taken a bit of me,
and unless I shatter again,
he'll leave forever.
By Aliza Kashmala Kiran
Written: September 9, 2025, for contest sponsored by: Rob Carmack
Quote: "Lovers have heartaches that can't be cured by drugs or sleep, or games, but only by seeing their beloved" By Rumi
**********
In the garland of ailments, we sip nepenthe,
anodyne tinctures in elegant flasks—
murmurous promises, beauteous masks,
each fard a façade, each pill a palimpsest
of pain rewritten in mellifluous ink.
Pneumology sings in stertorous sighs,
dyspnea dances under the aegis of relief.
We stroll through the lanes of this lush haven.
The breathtaking tablets gaze into bliss.
What trendy medicine pills and supplies
Supply human beings with many ways to support?
I share on the matter of preventing slurs.
The breakdown of moiety and the rise of risk.
For even the most ductile clay
may crumble in the quagmire of misuse.
In the seraglio of spurious bliss,
the simple and the iconoclast alike
grasp the absurdity of escape.
Acherontic powders, hexed and hissing,
wafture through the penumbra of parties,
where flapdoodle masquerades as rapture.
fear grips the veins—
a jussive urge, impetuous and egregious.
We extemporize joy, inhale incarnadine dusk,
and resile from reason with pertinacity.
turbulent dawns, wan and woebegone,
usher in ischemia’s kiss,
a paucity of comeliness,
a summary of sorrow.
The lush becomes lurid,
the sumptuous turns stygian.
Even the most miraculous odyssey
may cease in necrotic silence.
Meliorism in time to come
Yet still, amid the desiccation,
a scintilla of optimism coruscates.
The riparian soul, lithe and lit with Love,
may manipulate a raw moiety of meaning.
Through the shield of empathy,
the one who heals
may reclaim the palimpsest of self.
Not all who inhale are lost—
Some merely seek the empyrean
through alternate doors.
Let us not belittle
the addict, the patient, the seeker.
Each belongs to a consanguineous ilk
of yearning, of zoetic ache.
So let us offer not just palliation,
but propinquity,
not just summary judgment,
but the sacred burnished balm
of understanding.
Let Love be the panacea,
let compassion be the coruscation
that flickers in the penumbra
of every pharmacological night.
We are living in the middle, you and I,
between butterfly beginnings - ethereal endings.
Despite Natural Law, I'm persuaded to pause;
if possible, dear, let chrysalis continue ...
Timothy Levi Hicks
Living in the Middle
Rules of life restrict us from infancy.
If instincts are true we thrive, each new lesson,
a cynosural guide to success, an urge to forget
those practices made to thwart happiness.
Spare spending habits, avoiding the seven deadly sins,
passages, and reaching for that metaphoric sky
Until, true love, that mystic carriage to what may be;
the chrysalis that cradles heightened mystery.
The inevitable enduring of drudge before we fly.
We are living in the middle, you and I.
There is much we live, reliant upon chance happenings.
What if we had never met? If our paths had never
intersected or, if they did, we failed to connect.
Missed the perfect moment when the sky was right
to usher in romance, the laws of allurement
that shaped 'Plaisir d'amor' in magical renderings.
The ardent awareness of simpler things;
Brilliant colors, ambrosial kisses and heavenly perfumes.
The harmony of mutual understandings
between butterfly beginnings-ethereal endings.
The eager phase of dreams, of promises made,
getting used to things- some expected, some not.
then the arduous art of forgiving.
Our consent to cherish common objectives.
Was it happenstance our love succeeded - or was it
Because we overlooked each other's flaws-
What we expected in the moment?
Two souls astounded to be of the same accord;
that a chance encounter could be the cause.
Despite Natural Law, I'm persuaded to pause;
Too quickly the paragraphs of time we rèad.
Hand in hand we strolled the pages of our years,
standing fast against misfortunes we emerged,
shaped by caring and forbearing hearts.
Refusing to imagine life devoid of one another,
fighting new adversity with every sinew.
Nothing earthly, or in heaven, can measure
this small eternity we have made ourselves.
No matter how circumstance may try to spin you,
if possible, dear, let chrysalis continue ...
Suzanne Delaney
A Glosa
Number forty six - White House occupant re:
guarding President elect Joe Biden
Within mein hermitage
now dwells one euphoric troglodyte who wept
upon hearing unbelievable news,
(albeit at snail's pace schlepped
finally proclamation emancipation
gave reasonable rhyme yours truly to ejaculate
(not prematurely), subsequently I leapt
into the air, and kept
myself aloft completing
one after another sumersault and except
for minor nuisance of gravity
nevertheless landed feet first and crept
back into mine mancave adept
to survive alone in the wilderness.
Seventy four million popular votes
tallied across country,
gives ample reason to grind hips and bump,
(cuz the most votes
cast for any presidential candidate in history),
which Republican contender finally plopped
hook line and anchored
courtesy Taj Mahal replica sinker
into dustbin of history
good riddance electorate voted out
loutish oaf, which voters chose to dump
best mandated to cavort with zoot suited frump
on any given Wednesday available to hump
rotund barenaked lady merging
into humongous protoplasmic lump.
Caught red handed concerning
more'n where's the beef
stole 2016 election
under nose of Hillary Clinton
abused role, when tasked
as commander in chief
good ole Charlie Brown nemesis
caused nothing but grief,
hence yours truly quite elated
upon occasion when figurative new leaf
turned over and booted out
as more onerous than Baghdad thief.
Hit the ground running
with nary a second to waste
Joe Biden, Kamala Harris and company
proving their steely eyed mettle
after victory lap Democrats did taste
usher in COVID-19 game plan
bolstering pandemic defences
where prior administration sorely misplaced
priorities United States Lady Liberty
wantonly, undeservedly, subsequently
her reputation disgraced.
Hope springs eternal - ah tis amazing grace
yours truly suddenly brimming with optimism
able bodied diverse cabinet to erase
formerly inept sycophants with intentions base
running amok within White House
at long last competent candidate won the race
adieu Donald Trump, who
did disappearing act at Mar-A-Lago without a trace
sore loser teed off absent American
delivering his humiliating defeat coup de grâce.
Soul, slow down your flight
A kindred soul dare to delight
In your tryst when you hold her tight
Savouring every breath, every moment
Shunting aside pain and torment
Shutting out a callous comment
When your priorities say yes
Bless contours on tours that grace
The face so graceful it needs no stress
To pour plenty of luscious love
On affable aphrodites appointed from above
Lots of love given beyond a wondrous wave
That craves for evocative elevation
With or without any standing ovation
Granted without any egregious enervation
Brought about in season of penury
In love, in warmth, in sapphire and topaz jewellery
In deals and seals savoured this century
Bankrolled by synergy straws
Punctuated by gregarious guffaws
Whose music mellows jaws
Silenced and suppressed in studios
Whose walls muffle audios
In preference for videos
Flowing and blowing in a rapid motion
In sections and bisections in a mission
Whose prime impression slays depression
Letting loose emotions in a moose, a goose
Navigating limpid waters near the sluice
So limpid and liquid it lets joy juice
Caress and address the pleasure
Lovers lift from sorrow in the right measure
That promotes votes for the erasure
Of memories of salaries
Posted and costed late in lapidaries
Exploited to a vacuum in aviaries
Where white doves fly
In unison to ply
Their trade that laughs at a lie
Spread at high speed
An innocent self concept to weep
Long and hard when sorrow strikes a deep
Blow at the core of a halo
Separated from Pablo
In a motion so slow
It tethers tweets
Posted alongside sweets
From minds so endowed with wits
They cause a frown to fret
It saves a regret
For an open secret
That the grapevine derides
Stressing illusionist divides
From society get no free rides
As you wake up
Shove away the cup
Deserving no sup
In your college
In your village
In the privilege
You feel extended
Over and above a libation blended
By brewers you'd suspended
To usher in an era filled with amity
Blended with a daily dose of sublimity
To ascertain no more calamity
Rears its ugly face
In full or in a trace
As you withdraw for good from any rat race.
This revolutionary fella followed by
Adams family patriarch,giving rise
twin heir (plain lee gifted "Renaissance
Man") Jeff force'n without hemming
and hawing, subsequently conceding
nexus (nor horse drawn Lexus) of Colonial
power to Madison, thence Monroe
buttoned up as suitable candidate after
which younger Adams elected.
Thirty four followed Jackson's club
trumpeting (some Obama nib bully)
bushwhacking their way predicated
on faulty Algorithm, charming
charismatically with hint of Clint
like glint in eyes, blinding populace,
sans ray gun (Reagan), Car Tour ring
with peanut gallery in tow, affording
(unpopularly pardoning unfashionably),
a Jerry rigged nixed son, followed
by John's son tainted by stain of Vietnam,
but with said Southeast Asian debacle,
one ken heady (sporting thick styled hair)
inherited an internecine conflict, essentially
precipitated, when Eisenhower hardened
political stance against any allies of the
Soviet Union, (sans The Viet Cong), and
pledged his firm support to Diem
and South Vietnam.
Now with preceding administration, one
harried true man unleashed advent of atomic
spectra upon Hiroshima, and Nagasaki, this
purported preemptive measure scary ruse
felt to thwart exaggerated Japanese government
threat (military intelligence) scheming to
wreak untold havoc upon American troops
within the Pacific theater of World War II.
The former horrific decision controversial,
then and to this day Hoover expert historian,
diverge, asper corroborating the necessity
to usher in the Cold War, yet majority foreign
policy wonks might grudgingly attest that
said thirty first commander in chief did maintain
a Cool Edge throughout onset when doomsday
clock began countdown to Armageddon,
an unimaginably blaring, deafening, earsplitting...
cacophony distant rumbles heard, nonetheless,
no Hard dinning ghoulish nightmare (potentially
obliterating all life on planet Earth) haunted
Wilson, nor Taft, only gunboat diplomacy
mere child's play exhorted, less catastrophic
comparison, when Teddy Roosevelt wielded
"big stick schtick" namesake corollary to the
Monroe Doctrine in 1904...ad nauseum.
A little bit before the usual time
My mind dawned in spite of the short time dozed
I didn’t even plan to have it as I have
But least known to my thoughts
Today was the day long destined by fate to be mine
A few minutes passed as current affairs sipped into my mind
Then somehow a pen found its way to my hand and with it I jotted the recipes
That was a few minutes to four a.m.
Least known to me the journey had begun
By the time my mind had emptied the facts on paper
I saw clearly that I couldn’t be a moment late
Yesterday my horoscope warned me against Sagittarius’ cautious ways
Since today seemed to be the day
I decided to let my carelessness spirit me away
Events driven frantically by rampaging heartbeats
Moments devoured hastily by anticipating anxieties
Scenery changed as did the imagery
And as magic would have it, here I now am
In a reality hundreds of miles away from yesterday’s realities
Seated on a bed in a cheap yet comfy boarding room
Planning, plotting, anticipating the beauty and liberties of a new reality
Today I feel free
Today I thank my spirit for driving me to this bliss
Today I seize the opportunity to crystallize my dreams
I am in the wake of my destiny
And for that I indeed do believe divinity endows me
Tomorrow I hope to be led to the nest where my dreams shall be hatched
Today the eagle brood over by a chicken
Has escaped the meagre chicken pen to the beauty of freedom
Today the eagle is soaring free in the sky where it belongs
The sky where the spirits of achievements are high
Today I feel the wind soothe the muscles beneath my wings
Today I feel the strength of my feathers
I have hope! I believe even more in my dreams
Today has washed away all my past sorrows
Today I forever bar away yesterday’s pains
And only usher in the joys of tomorrow
Today and the many today’s that shall follow
I shall live as only I can
Finally, my time to live has come
And to live I shall, only in the greatest way I can
Finally, I am glad to be a part of the heavens I used to see above
Finally, I’m rid of the worries those contented to be on the dust have
Finally, I’ve risen to earn my rights
Finally, I can honestly thank and say I’m glad
Oh Lord please tell me what Isaiah meant
That “the wilderness and the dry land shall be glad;
the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus?”
I look out at the full moon in the morning atop an unfinished Cube Smart
Storage facility, the I-76 highway buzzes in the foreground. The rolling hills of empty tree tops
just barely hiding the myriad of man made shapes beneath
I cant stop looking at the moon, the sunrise at my back out of sight
behind this worthless building
but painting all the clouds around the moon with a gray-pink.
I tear up thinking of a line that I could never quite get to work in a poem
Give back to Caesar this un-beating heart
And unto you oh God my soul depart.
There's something there but its still kind of corny.
Too forced, too rhythmic.
I get a text from my foreman
“Sorry was on the phone coming up now.”
I see you God in the little moments,
But they don't last very long.
“Draw near O nations, to hear
and give attention O peoples!
Let the earth hear, and all that fills it.
For the Lord is enraged against all the nations
And furious against all their host;
He has devoted them to destruction, has given them over to slaughter.
Their slain shall be cast out, and the stench of their corpses shall rise;
The mountains shall flow with their blood.”
A truck passes by using its engine brakes BRAP BRAP BRAP BRAP
“Thorns shall grow over its strongholds, nettles and thistles in its fortresses
It shall be the haunt of jackals an abode for ostriches.”
Ostriches on the highway, I’m into it. I don't really get off on the stench of corpses like Isaiah though.
Why the love of vengeance Lord?
I’d like to think Isaiah an imperfect messenger. But I get the anger over the destruction of nature
Tell me Lord if this world will be destroyed? Will you let our selfishness destroy everything?
It seems like its getting pretty close.
Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done.
Please Lord protect the Earth and let me be an instrument for You, Eternal Love;
And to help usher in The Kingdom
Amen.
END TIMES : TWO
End time dramas continue
to unfold as foretold
tribes of Judah and
Gad united in ether
descending conspiring
to pull Matrix strings
across rooms boom
death Will hidden
documents forged
a trigger activates
illicit action
Centre remains perfection
resurrection
Claim no marriage for
money honeyed
both are paper thin
dust speckled dragonflies
glide into geraniums cry
Truth mourns
hen-chicken ferns
hush murky tears
car ignition fear
burns
Pain has nowhere to
pulse but deep within
stealth sidles sleep
jealousies bleep
forever laced in viral
lanced cellular haste
Antares and Arcturus
watch spiritual warriors
discuss hush actions
gush
Clothed in black head
to toe racing an Audi
making it glow, split
second disappearance
Light sees ass twitch
seeking protection from
words rained in past
reflections
Outgrown forms collapse
to usher in cycles of
initiatory synapse
What is this past anyway ?
Another man’s download
in a desert of dialectic
redemption fast
These end times hold
keys to Uruz strength
so wrenching deep
mouldy ceilings weep
glass teapot aches
growth changes rune
stone answers fake
Passages of Dark part
once again decay
death fertilization
gestation rebirth
this is progression
as mirth
Then Melchedzidek spoke
in cloak to Sham’s Forty
Rules of Love inked across
my marked forehead
mint plant pegged
ancient fern atop torn
garden statue stern
Who will take the
Leap of Faith leaving
to proclaim missions
without a fission
Spiritual warriors know
their inner laws when
writ in cursive upon
open doors
they care not when
orders to leave
fly thick and fast
not cheap
Miners died in vain cold
digging for gold sold to
adorn Draco throats torn
glistening gloat
forms dying disguised
as boss lost tossed
we know no collapse
will not be flossed
our timing spot
on glossed
We live life potent
respected radical
transition
seize a moment
seen the vision !
©GhairoDanielsPoetry
&Song2025