Lording Poems | Examples

THERE IS PROFUNDITY IN TOGETHERNESS

My hands will glow,
rising higher, ebbing
and flowing
with the gold-glass sea.
Herald of angels in our midst
as we kiss the feet of Christ.
For the earth is His hassock. 

My soles will rejoice
as they crush
sweet-scented petals.
Invisible to the naked
eye. Good news spreads fast.
A whirlwind of death to life.

My arms will reach
the pinnacles of
pearly gates. There’s healing
in each touch, a cure

to empathize with hurts,
not lording over, but 
holding on, catching
each tear.

There is profundity
in togetherness,
in what we share.
Strength of mine
delivered to the weak
and the next time
I am the weak.

The World When I Was Young

Why can't the world be like it was when I was young
    No one cleaning up dog-due dung

  Kids dying right and left of polio and measles
    Mumps running rampant like scorpions and beetles

  Fathers employing razor belts
    on recalcitrant sons and leaving welts
 
  Mothers teaching daughters to clean and cook
    poor-mouthing math and science textbooks  

  White folks lording it over illiterate Knee grows
    Butchering Espanol -- and a few unlucky amigos

  It was all so much simpler way back then
    Cowboys shot Indians on the count of ten  

  So, why can't the world be like it was when I was young
    Well, hey, I guess it is ~ English still ain't America's mother tongue...

Poets Pulse

Weepy and willowy
   purple and greening…

Green and purpling vines,
Landowners between the lines.
Beyond the willowing pines,
Spring’s surplusity sublime.

Weepy and willowy
   purple and greening…

Conifers a leap, in front of creek,
reminiscent-flooding was not meek.
Caught in my wide eye that week —
the bubbling serendipitous freak.

Weepy and willowy
   purple and greening…

Wraparound fence a lá wisteria blooms.
Honey and carpenter bees, hornets zoom,
‘round about its heady-cocktail’d perfume.
All aboard the buzz of springtide costume.

      Weepy and willowy
   purple and greening
Spring is a-leaping and lording
raising a poet’s pulse, an unpreventable affording 
of contentment—
  sickness of singing feathers, courting
     unforgettable fetters
        of magical colors, supporting

one’s cause for rhyming
   hypnotic, its timing…

3/31/2021

In a Blink of An Eye

I swear no movement was seen, as in a blink of an eye
You look around, and as kiss your bed, its last goodbye

With not one look of remorse and as no guilt to be seen
There is the cat lording it up, asleep like she is a queen

I would not mind if I caught her in the act with warning
But there on my just left hot spot she is there warming

Then there’s that indigent look I get on moving her out
With her sat on the floor, giving me her lady muck pout

That quote what you own, owns you is so flaming’ true
Darn cat; has got me worked out, through and through

Omoyele Sowore

Oh! ye noble men of courage, another Hero is born. 
Meet the man who demystify the terrors of our oppressors,  
Out on thee oh cowards, Up and braze up for the the imminent freedom.  
Your Fears are foolish, let them dazzle a thousand guns, they are mortals and 
            they fear our rage. 
Enlist in the voyage for liberation, we cannot all be cowered. 
Liberty is the cry of the oppressed, and Freedom is never given, it is taken 
Emancipate yourself from the claws of these terrible corrupt impostors,    




See the light of development sweeping the continents, advancement and 
            technological leap everywhere 
Our lots has been a cynosure of bandits, overtaken by fraud and moral turpitude 
Who will lead this banner to rescue us from the nebulous shame?  
Over us they bellow, Lording it, they Rule. 
Revolution is the Fear of the Oppressor, until the masses wake up from their 
            slumber.
End the reign of the bandits, masquerading as Leaders

Our, Own Heroes

Our Own Heroes

**********







"We,
Birthed by parents;
Without prior planning 
For a proper alignment 
of their kids destiny,
yet, 
Here we are,
Our own very selves, 
Our own heroes!"







We Are, 
Our Own Heroes
We've come this far;
gods in human form. 
We've visited the very eye of the storm of life; 
Waded through the jungle of life's harsh reality... 
Bathed in its gore and ruthlessness. 
We've seen it all; 
Yet still standing, 
lording over our eventful conquest in our own little way...savouring the pleasure of a victory earned through combat...a combat of will. 
Though, without a grand ceremony to honor our presence among mortals; 
Yet, we will lay claim to our divine trumpets, 
We will horn our praise till the rest of the celestials join in our unsavoury dance... 
The dance of the Immortals.
With it, we will build an atmosphere of gaiety and galore... an atmosphere of a distinct piety.
Then, we shall boldly say, facing the mortal world:
We Are Our Own Heroes! 





 Peter Ekhator Godwin Iyendoe (pegi)
ghops


Copyright © Speare Earth Poetry | Year Posted 2019

One More Thing

3/25/19
"One More Thing"

This morning
Clouds forming
Soon to be storming

Most ignoring
The warning
Continually warring

Waters forking
Rapids roaring
Avians soaring
As events continue coursing

Heard enough recordings
That were reporting
About global warming

Whether it's sunny or pouring
Cold or scorching
Dogs and cats arrive for boarding
In a building with tile flooring

Bottles uncorking
This life isn't boring
It's rewarding

This world, we're still exploring
Organisms morphing
Meanwhile plants absorbing
The sunlight, that's supporting
All life, according
To people and other sourcing's

Barely affording
Folks snoring
Out of the loop, close and far from any cording

Drugs and people used for transporting
Still gorging
Battling addictions regarding snorting

Far too many hoarding
And overstoring
Thinking they're scoring

Any bull, I'm thwarting
The honest and hard working, I'm supporting
You better stop lording
Before the public starts swarming

About to leave this world, after one more thing

I Was King

Our realm, our secret world

Gnarled and weather worn,

Mystical, and mighty

Convoluted in its form.

As we played, its oaken trunk

Became our royal tower,

I played King, lording it,

Revelling in my power.
















Entry for
MAY 2019 no 6,ANY FORM,ANY THEME,
UP TO A MAX OF 8(EIGHT )Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
18/5/2019.Placed 5th.

Living Rooms

. for public domain


Where we hung our overcoats I don't remember,
or at what time winter snow fell late December,
I barely recall the living room
with the television or radio on,
snuggled in a chair, wanting weather of September.

The living room, our family's sanctuary,
where we prayed for a quickly passing January,
we held our tongues from bitter comments,
mostly, but one slipped out on occasion,
which made for an unpleasant colder February.

Spring and Summer came with outdoor body odor,
showers and sweat all through the harvest of October.
Comments on sore bones and blisters,
exchanged among my mother and sisters,
kept the conversation lively through November.

Our parents have long passed on, as we have passed on,
alone, or enduring lives we have created,
lording over our own living rooms,
to keep them from becoming tombs
of the silence that awaits us at the end.

Deeply Set Truth

Sunrise does he who formed the eye not see past the dawn 
rising from the place of it's setting weakness of will 
turning the potters clay upside down 
hiding their deep council from the Lord 

Where they whom do works in the dark 
in these secret societies look for praise 
and they had a king over them 
who is the angel of the bottomless pit 

Whose name in the Hebrew tongue is Abaddon 
but in Greek he is called Apollyon
all the earth was in admiration after the beast 
when he announced himself as God lording over us 
where the blind will follow this dragon to hell 
as they the lost sacrifice their children to him

Fallen

For many who tried on a pedestal to live
Acting as if this was they were meant to be
Lording it over those who were to help
Life has a way to remind us its karma
Ensure your pedestal is based on respect
Never expect respect if it is not earned

The Eclipsed Sun

Could you also in shame bow
Like smothered cocoyam leaves
In all your elegance of prided shame?

You hid behind amber's of burning coal
Lording your weakness on cowards of sky
You crown yourself with sparkling rays
A kings regalia over your slumped orphaned shoulders

With a tortoise craftiness you awoke
As others fell fast asleep to occupy
The seat of kings as a king over kings
But your elegance was veiled in blackness
Your wickedness covered with darkness
As you resign in shame of your cunning at last
Sorry comrade, the rich also cry.

Regrets

From a wind-swept window looking out
upon raindrops falling on soggy ground,
alone she stands remembering a life
filled with happy memories.

How did it come to this, she asks herself,
why a love that should have lasted years
could abruptly end in the wink of an eye
like a bad dream.

Harsh words hurled and no one giving in,
pride lording over what remains of a home
that for long they tried so hard building,
sorry the hardest word to say.

Fool, fool, she curses like new-found mantra
to somehow ease the vise tightly gripping
her presently numbed, shell-shocked brain
and deaden the pain.

Now with solitude as her only company
while silence screams with the noise
announcing the finality of her misery,
she laughs yet again.

As the hard rain continues to pour down
so are the tears of regrets and bitterness,
too late wondering what would have been
had she not driven him away.

Disillusion!

What are the measures of success?
What makes one stand on high?
Is it money in excess
With the power that money can buy?

Is it the social standing
Of being known by one and all?
Is it your power of commanding?
Or lording it over one and all?

Is it getting a promotion?
Or having the means to promote?
Or oratorically create a commotion?
Or having time to spirituality to devote?

Is it freedom to indulge in frank-speak
And ne'er be cowed down by others?
Is it the time when you stop to seek
And become a keeper of thy brother?

None of the above is a reality
It’s all a great big sham!
Peace unto oneself speaks of quality,
A realization of I am what I am!

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