Short Dynasties Poems
Short Dynasties Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Dynasties by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Dynasties by length and keyword.
Idolized by pharaohs, monarchs and kings;
Bird of the wetlands, marshes and swamps.
Interesting forager with long bill and stilted long legs;
Sacred icon of the dynasties of yore.
fuchsia rose was captured in the early sixteenth century
her legend was passed through many dynasties,
then storytellers got bored with her, and forgot her story
she waited for her chance; twinkling and dazzling newbies
enticing one to release her from her Pandora prison
the unlucky instigator of the pandemic
Our rapid breaths
Rise and fall
In dreams, in all our waking hours
Empires and Dynasties
Till the end of the Earth
Let's run till we meet the moon
And dangle our swinging legs from the horizon line
You are my happy, my saving grace
Smiling as the morning sun creeps up over the city
Take my hands, never let me go
central billing equal ceilings tapestry
of environmental surges
kaleidoscope of colors blurred mismatch
on its way it's a rehearsal
for dynasties tragedies
I am eloquent for the disasters,
that lies before me
man who am I to stand
in the way of clemencies-entrapmemt
1/10/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
As I search through the centuries
exploring ancient dynasties
This idea is sown in my head
To see the lives they led, instead
of records, names and dates and times
Imagining their storylines
Dreaming of their loves and sorrows
Picturing long gone tomorrows
8x8 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: PS Awtry
Date: 8th November 2018
4th placement
Contest ALL YOURS (Jan 22)
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
The Land Of Royal Monarchs
from the plains we see
the land of royal monarchs
perched on a hilltop
its architecture
draws us to the heritage
of the blue blooded
secret lives of kings
unveiled flamboyancy with
queens and courtesans
heirs of dynasties
dreamed treacheries and murders
as game for the throne
princely monument
in prime was bereft of love
now gardens tourists
April 20, 2015
For Nayda Ivette Negron
Tartaric acid rain of the lost calligraphy
Peels to melt the running emotions
Drains clog beneath dynasties
Commerce to no one in seas
Pourtant je vois ceasefire
See a spark of defiance
Harlequin of belle dame misery
Catatonic brutality ends within me
Phantom of these nigh-mares
Shriek away stares orbs no retinas
Telltale sen em bras lambent
Am I dying nevermore
Mourning my own demises gavotte masquerade
Is that a shimmer of light on my finale
I've seen anger
and power
morph into hate.
And nations crumble
under siege,
when religious zealots
free the beast within.
And the blood flows red,
as Death demands an
exorbitant toll
for the fallen soul's
passage into heaven.
The very wealthy
build their dynasties
by grinding the bones
of naive idealist
and the pious,
into the mortar
for their monuments
and crypts of stone.
The apocalypse,
a Martyr’s dream,
or reality’s
nightmare?
Burnt-out myths in the old city
are stitching the lips of people.
Pink walls smell like blood.
Priest is dumb, hoisting the headless
deity on throne. Marigolds
are soaked in flowing tears.
Innocent wheels riding against blast,
stand still to measure
the half-life of seizures.
Cult was spreading in place,
fingers and cells Dynasties inheriting
the bleached fathers.
The ages rot under the sculptors.
We walk on water, wordless, sightless
for the thin hope.
SATISH VERMA
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