Long Versing Poems
Long Versing Poems. Below are the most popular long Versing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Versing poems by poem length and keyword.
And he said unto them, If ye had not plowed with my heifer, ye had not found out my riddle.Judges 14:18b
They plowed with the heifer,
A stranger of a day,
assigned from the pit,
to bring a Samson down.
She feigned false affiance,
with a mission so deliberate,
trans-versing vast territories,
to cage a man by Lust.
the disguise of a demon,
derailed a man on mission,
suspending the vision.
The bargain was too costly,
her comrade the philistines,
pretentious while purloining,
hides in ambuscades,
dictating schemes to kill.
The captives now entrapped,
They kept their walled territories,
inflamed the loose Cyprian,
for fleshy lust and greed.
Are you the man on a mission?
Oh! be not complacent.
The flappers surrounds you still.
Keep this emblem on your chest,
Delilah is not a friend.
She is a masterpiece of wild contradiction,
fuse blown by a wick, of litmus tongue in your senses-
her moods shifting chameleonic shades everything at once
in candle wax trick or residue residing nowhere.
Heart's firework pinwheel blown
by a wish everywhere
and summoned without lips service-
to neither Hades, Avalon nor Loch Ness, lore.
In her magic lies a silent non disclosure appeasment,
a benediction like a life preserver of electric feel.
Her trinkets are cursed idols, in a pool of profoundness laid- imply at your feet, dewly spilled.
She sheds jade droplets of faceted
watershed moments,
strings them like pearls
to loose your balance on your
precipitated emotion.
She is "in the field"- set of runged abominations-
of a fools notion.
Jade droplets of faceted conglomeration
bathed of precipitale- emotion-
swimming your head like electric eel.
She is a storm brewing inside a jewel,
vagabond bauble non descript versing of
evident residual haunting your soul to steal-
new horizon, taunting virgin territory, with infatuation, lightning.
Underwritten page of felt covertly, subtly everything hunting, seasoned overtly sensory heightened display.
Moraed morals, moreover-sustained
of overlay fonting the atmosphere
cover paged as she wears where she lays.
The sky, a distant dream in the ocean of her gaze,
Wind stripped bare in a pool of borrowed
rhymes swimming your head in amaze
as we scramble for the right words to parlay
in her charms way.
In her voice lies a silent romance
leaving more questions than answers in her wake,
as her moods shift, atelier 'steem-roller,
like runic winds
of intolerant display, mind, screen-controler.
Touchstones in a pool of profoundness,
sun ray sing song at hand after the reigns.
We peep through grated beams in the dark confines,
Kept in chains by the tyranny of audacious jailers,
unending cynosure of profligates and imposters:
ruining the destinies of million wearied sufferers.
criminals fit for the gallows,
morons from the days of the colony.
dictators in military attires.
and simpletons kept in power for temporary ease.
our heirloom forced from us by old monsters.
cabals of criminals, greedy goons, men untutored in reputation.
Felons and rapscallion from the military barracks,
too old for modern ideas.
we are burdened along by colonial tyranny,
in a country where destinies are suspended in the gale,
and youths are forced into their own crimes of stealing.
we could not speak our sentiment freely.
we are fettered and riveted by their guns.
The sword above us, tyranny of archaic mind.
dreamy theorist acting as lords over multitudes of docile lots.
men made to cringe and fawn bowing and stooping to the
threatening of their guns.
They armed assassins and sufferers alike,
paid a trifling sum from the proceeds of corruption,
to keep the masses away from them as old baron loot the treasury,
this open prison of fancied freedom,
where marauders employed by the states with a gun to kill,
trans versing the south with AK47/.
terrorist renamed bandits by religious sympathizers.
from the porous borders of North,
comradely of Fanatics and bigots of the sword sect.
Clandestinely overrunning the land.
Freedom is a crime to fools.
those who dares becomes enemy of states.
assaulted by “operation python” dance.
or raided by Lawless DSS.
This is but a Jihad disguised as government.
The road is a trap of death,
we sleep as watchers waiting for the sword.
we starve amidst multitudinous resources,
they Lend to keep us in Bondage.
The crude in the south.
and all the resources are carted away to the North
to pay terrorist.
A state crimes condoned.
we groan,
we dare not speak as their armed assassin are
ready to silence the Voice of Truth.
one more Truth for the Jailer from the North.
Oh moon, so full, so dearly
bright, You are the light
of lovers; misty glow of night,
Dimmer than sun, his subordinate
reflection, yet remains he jealous
despite; for even death, cannot silence
love’s forever brilliance, vows
trans-versing ages--the grave a
mere cycling phase…each new face
a hopeful countenance—and all
passing through such shadows
are coated, in-spite of the daze,
with a gleaming, rapturous
glaze….
Oh Moon, your insight, unlike
all others—though depressed
in curfews of darkness--appealing
dread silence I call through the
thickness, while treading deep
echoes of night—where does a
heart sail when one beat cruelly
sunk--leaving the other, fond memory,
but little choice than to float
their dreams one alone...?
Till the fog once again lifted, and
awakened by her lips, love’s promise;
is not life so preciously gifted, to
we unworthy yet treasured by God?
Only you, Moon, see clearly our
heartaches; and the matchless pain
when summarily parted--our seasons
so like your own, cold and warmth,
dim halos and beaming glows--as
onto occasions light simmers...to again
lustrously grow. For humans--our
hearts free symphonies a-flutter—soul’s
mortal vehicle the spirit only intimately
knows; let no sadness sow doubt to
drown us, affirming for love
that love eternally flows….
We are never Woke!
Cool, catchy, hip
neat sounding expression
but deceptively misleading!
Best we can do is rest,
shelter at a pillar of Awakening….
-----------------------------------
We choose our possessions --
Choose what possesses us --
The Devil, with his lures
of power and gem-my babbles --
Christ His promise of Soul
Liberation: ever higher expansion,
Awaking consciousness into spheres
of unimaginable cosmic spiritual
wealth – Christ, my heart lightener;
guide through shrouded corridors,
enraptured, trans-versing mystic chambers,
those sky-high mansions for initiate
flight. I become the Light-bearer! No captives in
Christ, only partners, who serve the Father,
totally dedicated to His Children's uplifting.
There are no dogmatic prisoners in
Christ. I follow Christ, who follows
God, joyful in a journey of unfolding
omnipotence. What Father wants
less for His Children than he has
For Himself? The Almighty, ever
present, ever loving, beneficent Great I Am!
Twisted and Expelled
_____________________________
As Edgar spoke of Never More,
and the bird perched apon his door
I sat is aweing, hoping, praying
for a sign it was conveying.
Was, it a tortured soul
brought up from the world below
a shadow,in bird form stancing
to do its bidding, of nightly dancing.
And was the tapping , creatures peering
waiting on a soon death nearing
Was Lenore death herself
beauty placed on memories shelf.
Was his minds eye, future telling
or his twisted soul, demons expelling
Within ones corruption, there exploding
a twisted ending, there unloading.
Whatever fare he might be feeding
serves us readers, there for eating
gobbling verses, as if addiction
starving , needing...our nutrition.
5/22/14- Jessica Thompson (With some versing from
"The Raven" by: Edgar A. Poe.. ( Beloved Poet)
Christ, you are all to me...
from the depths of soulful
yearnings, to height of man's
exalted visions Divinely
awakened – I see in You,
simplistic while complex;
My eyes on You before this
mortal journey, those first breaths,
and then footsteps, out from
the valleys of death, through
life's eternal labyrinths
of transformation and wondrous
manifestation, to the summits
of Universal Consciousness –
in You, there are no shadows of doubt;
with You, only the Light of blessed discovery –
that of myself, and my relationship
to infinite being – limitless expansion
within the Body of Omnipotence.
I yield to You in all matters,
finding not a loss of identity
but a wealth of personal awareness –
I am Yours, not only for what You are,
but what You show me of creation,
and who, the all Powerful Source of my
core, I truly represent; revealing that which
I have forgotten alongside the vastness
I am yet to find anew, trans-versing Father's infinite
sea of rapturous volumes and endless possibilities....
Your Birthday is ours – Your
guaranteed Ticket to Heavenly
Body is our prestamped ride
to everlasting love and sublime spiritual
acclamation. Merry Christmas!
Is art a word that can be defined
Is it the basics of coloring between the lines
Or a concept, only some can find
Typically those with a likemind
Could it be, perhaps, a tingle inside
All the best feels of hard earned pride
approval from one with a shared vibe
Or a persons gift, once they’ve died
Being an artist myself, I need to know
These answers will help my muse to grow
If I quiet my mind, my words will flow
Only then, will I find, my gifts to bestow
Because the here and now is not working
Searching for peace has me constantly hurting
Is there a talent, behind the words I’m versing
This lifestyle of mine is less than assuring
*** In Simple Lines Poeetry Comes ***
(“You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life…” Walt Whit an, “Leaves of Grass”)
My lines —
My life…
Riding moments,
Raising poetry
Like Beauty feels
Glorious
As Mother Nature is — when her winter here ends —
Brought on to her time of re-birth —
Sprouting life on toward the sun
From and within layers of earth
As Springtime’s newest whimsies grow
Dew-tipped on all and dawn vibrant ‘tho ephemeral…
Words of import
In simple combinations
Phrased memories come
To waves of fields of grass —
With their repeated reciting
Of Poetry’s honored lines’ past
And then, in sequenced words,
Time has amassed
The little aspects of me —
Presented and quite apt for pennings of similes,
Or for drawing on some imagery —
In my heart —
My simple lines were found
Stemming from radiant peace
Or ardent hours,
With persistence versing inspirations
Into my simple lines.
With all attention closely given
To reverberating echoes of a quintessential metaphor
From melodies ‘oft playing unnoticed in the air
Always
Some distance from just so close
By the fields of Spring’s fresh grasses —
Lyric-tipped all
Invite…Await
Wandering poets with thirsty pens.
E——————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 1/21/2023
Thanks be to God…
A godless mass afraid of Death,
though unfettered by rebellion against God.
Uneasy calm imposed by modern gadgets,
global alarm from nations once revered,
A surge of pestilence from the east
trans-versing the cope of earth,
undefined yet named,
A demon unleashed beyond proud science,
The Vain research for a cure,
speculations of empty brained Politicians
and the unending hyperbole of the media
increased trepidation for the unseen,
helpless physicians like simpleton
consenting to the foolery of Politician
defining cures by a mask,
promising relief by sanitizers,
Stay home, isolate and increase your depression by loneliness,
Freedom now mockery, liberty a lie.
compelled by their reset to change the order for another.
Billionaire proposing vaccines,
untasted by the speculators.
Yet the surge unrelenting they say',
is their imposed masks not cure?
Is the sanitizer not a relief?
the pestilence is resistant to their vaccines,
another mutation in Boris Britain they say,
A mockery of their solution,
the speculation a mere phantom.
Ignorant men as viceroy for the unseen realm,
global manipulation of a cult,
A stage for the Antichrist.