Short Conquests Poems
Short Conquests Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Conquests by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Conquests by length and keyword.
Paul was handsome and charming
Well mannered and disarming
Until his conquests found out
He was a lout
The stories they told were alarming
Life’s a series of ups and downs
some days smiles, others frowns
Men revel in fictitious conquests
women dream of wedding gowns
Backpacking
I search my truth
place unknown—
With abandon
limbs roam free
on brown pampas,
thirsting for newfound conquests.
Contest: Whitney 2
5 Sept 2017
Cinderella for a day
her pavlov dogs barking
Long shanks meant for the shining,
hairline conquests prevail
Antibiotics for a Queen
the white path of riddance
Stupor by Rules
Hysterical outcomes
The all Mighty Sun
is streaming
hoping for the fog
Paralyzed from the start
This is what tears us apart
Poision branches, broken ties
Losing ground on a distant ground
What ever keeps the credit alive
Value and belief
What are you worth
When it comes down to the gun
How many conquests for the future
To remake the apple pie
Never-ending bloodstained boots tossed on top
of the growing mound of vignettes
around so many young men
seeking a name to boast
courageous conquests
facing the best
gunfighters
just to
die
NB: A nod to Robert Hinshaw and his poem ‘A Stroll Through Boot Hill Cemetery’.
Narwhals, Is Chivalry Dead?
Narwhals cycle arctic coasts
amidst the icepack
ancient seasoned routes
swordfights, competition, Spring
female conquests are courted
mystic spiral tusks
alphas chose the heartiest
basking in the sun
coastline guides the species well
Sunshine Williams
Amaryllis boasts,
Declaring her love,
Conquests flaunted,
Prideful and beauty,
Tower above,
Look at me?
Deceivingly she calls,
Toxic and poisonous,
Voluptuous flower,
Her femme-fatale,
Expensive perfumes,
Seducing oils
Relaxing massages,
Into her blossom,
Splendour with elegance,
Her victims
Die!
I receive just pure trust, love and no unbelief,
No abandonment, no fear,
No lies, stealing, nor slander
To defile hearts and hopes
Let all children believe, trust and love.
Care for them and make them secure for their conquests
Tell them The Truth, give them courage
Keep their hopes shining and hearts blessed.
I’ve seen the sphinx and pyramids
Climbed Kilimanjaro and Everest
Crossed the ocean in a raft, I did
So, which thrill was the best…
Lest you think I notch my belt
with each of these conquests
Sabbath meals with my family
are where I’m truly blessed
Minchkins and Munchkins eyes twitter and twitch
Glorifying carnivoric conquests fair
Dining on country found delicacies at which
Some cats stick city slick noses in the air
Nothing juicier than catching meat on the go
My quick tomcats Minchkins and Munchkins know
They nibble on tiny mole and vole head,
Laughing maniacally where creatures dare tread.
The merciless poacher
his larceny quells
Shooting wherever
the desperate dwell
Leaving to rot
what his vengeance can’t steal
Stalking and preying
the weakest revealed
Stirring up warnings
and ghosts from the past
Damning his nature
and future aghast
Hanging his conquests
on walls that defame
That last spot for him
— dark trophy of shame
(The New Room: December, 2025)
conquerors and heroes
singing their way to victory
standing solid and unified
glory days ahead of them
chanting Catholic hymns
guiding ships across the sea
feeling a pride in their accomplishments
feeling validated and uplifted
their conquests honorable and true
incredible journey
ancestral homeland
kissing the earth
chanting their song
reveling in their return
to their wives and women
He's found another heart to devour.
Reciting the perfect words, perfecting gentle mannerisms.
Cleverly burrowing his way in.
Feeding off the shadows of weakness.
Eating the beat of the flesh.
Making its way into the center.
Seducing embers deep within its heart cage.
Then licking it into pieces.
He carries no oxygen,
only the soil of past conquests.
He's your latest heartworm,
your sticky rosary of death.
“This universe is differentiated into spheres, seven Swargas and seven Patalas.”
~ extract from ‘The Holy Science’
Brahman the absolute alone exists,
who by His will all the worlds manifests,
realms of contrast where delusion persists
until exhausted, soul’s ego lust rests,
renouncing forever earth bound conquests.
We need not analyse realms and domains.
Let’s focus instead on cleansing soul’s stains.
Love is young like a delicate rose- petal
So easily flung, devoured by transient blooms
Reckless the endings with salty lips of passion
Only to find it is all about moonlit conquests.
Love is a mirror of anger, perhaps a cry
An obsession to hold when one feels alone;
This clutch grasping unto shadowed vines of fear
Possessing the other for ruthless exploitation.
Frank H: Love Is
by nette onclaud
I can't even begin to explain
All of the places I have been
Crazy, weird and wildest of things
Lets say life is a wall full of mirrors
As even if the time is only a minute away
The are things you just can't play
Everyday, without a single complaint
Things remembered, moments replayed
Conquests deemed for the obcsene
Every seam for the memory feeds
And the list for which it breathes
For when it needs it becomes empty
Form:
Moses the Lawgiver was the most humble of men
Abraham the Patriarch dust and ashes, and when
Other kings lolled in bed nearly half the morning
The Psalmist, King David, rose at midnight's warning
When we think of great heroes, we imagine great might
Battles, war and conquests, daring bravery in fights
The three heroes I've cited were all strong, it is true --
Their greatness cloaked in humility through and through
COPLA 104 RESOLUTION : This Bad Guy World
Ethnicity geography parent
Ferment in spiritual cauldron :
Breed gods violent
Who wants to serve gods heirs apparent
Can believers be made to reason :
God indolent
Gods thus get imposed on others
Through violent spiritual conquests :
Meek must submit
One Way of Life spread over borders
Not by sword nor by royal behests :
There gods must quit
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
If contests reveal great faith-work’s strength
battles show discipline-ventures
conquests expose character
trials test virtues’ might
values’ fortitude
skills’ expertise
talents’ worth
for God...
Win!
When contest rules do stifle your life
not bringing out your very best
but nurturing the beast’s guts
with self-glorying bouts
midst spiritual angst
burdening soul
breaking heart,
Trust God…
Win*!
It is full of mixed terrors,
Musing in past few errors...
To loose today to rumors,
And morrow one of her consumers.
Let yesterday rest,
Of her past quests,
For morrow's best,
Forms today's undying conquests.
It is cool to raise cup,
Cum wins fear wallop,
Before changes lineup...
Real cheers growing lasting backup.
Let yesterday sleep!
Her weary hole deep,
And stop yet to weep,
For morrow's coming glory on its leap...
Any (every) man
can brag about his conquests,
the notches in his belt
little rungs on a ladder
baptized in ********.
Any (every) man
can regale you with stories
of their swordsmanship or cunning
linguistics.
Any (let's just be honest and say all) man
can try to hold a woman down
while pretending to hold her hand.
But it takes a REAL man
to look a beautiful woman
in her emerald moth eyes
and say;
"Will you teach me how to fish? "
Lord, I don't want water...
I want a new beginning a better way for things to be
I am thirsty in soul
I am thirsty spiritually
I can love with my whole heart
body and mind
but will it be recipricated...in this lifetime
I laugh because its not about conquests
that I can do, have done...ain't no thang
for none have I ever really truly sang
though others sing to me...
all I utter from my lips... with all the drinks I have had... I am still
THIRSTY
Emptyness runs wild in a mans passion to
control the hunger for desire lust
freedom......... the only thing that is real
is the knowing of the day when it all comes
crashing down around you...and ur true self
is realised to be a frigle soul.but in the
eyes of the people that loved u they will
banish u to eternal damnation...with out the
understanding of ur curse..... too vanish is
the only way to ease the burden of failed
conquests and heal ur hope.....
Form:
Loftier visions one has uppermost in mind
Thoughts of conquests in the long days ahead
Often may not come as one expected to find
Like a strange, exotic fantasy in one’s head
Evoking stranger deeds where nightfall led
In dead of night when one lies deep asleep
Come fabulous dreams that are loathe to keep
In daylight hours unbridled by relaxing air
When paths are long and roads too steep
When busy-ness transports the mind elsewhere.
recently written (2021)