"phalanxes" poems - Hello Poetry

every morning i walk my terrier through a winding half-mile, but i think he’s the one walking me: he’s always in a sprightly haste. i don’t know how many tail wags i miss in between slow, drowsy blinks. elsewhere, the earth is walking her moon, both zipping around their own usual orbit. in the city, the suited adults manoeuvre sidewalks, dispensing brief greetings, sparse on chatter. punctuality is a battle through suitcase-wielding phalanxes. overlooking the bustling crossroads, a greyed man sits, ****** from cigar compounding existing inertia. limbs in inactivity, mind far from monotony, slowly drifting towards a familiar wraith in a different hurry: the one for reunion. i think about us and wish the same.

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Jun 23, 2013

Jun 23, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC

glenn-f

hurry

every morning i walk my terrier through a winding half-mile, but i think he’s the one walking me: he’s always in a sprightly haste. i don’t know how many tail wags i miss in between slow, drowsy blinks. elsewhere, the earth is walking her moon, both zipping around their own usual orbit. in the city, the suited adults manoeuvre sidewalks, dispensing brief greetings, sparse on chatter. punctuality is a battle through suitcase-wielding phalanxes. overlooking the bustling crossroads, a greyed man sits, ****** from cigar compounding existing inertia. limbs in inactivity, mind far from monotony, slowly drifting towards a familiar wraith in a different hurry: the one for reunion. i think about us and wish the same.

17

All furies, pharaohs, phalanxes Will bow before the one Whose fountain flows from phoenixes To bathe him in the sun For what is time if not his throne And what is God but just a word To thine whose kingdom shines against Existence's absurd And most perplexing paradoxes Of dualities of man And its sealed Pandora's boxes Of reality's demand Upon the lonely lucid dreamer Who has seen beyond desire In a world of Disney Movies Where such fairy tales expire To a hungry belly's hatred And the fear of thirsty lips And taking more than your fair share Of poison apple trips

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May 12, 2017

May 12, 2017 at 3:44 AM UTC

michael-marchese

Creative Non-Fiction

All furies, pharaohs, phalanxes Will bow before the one Whose fountain flows from phoenixes To bathe him in the sun For what is time if not his throne And what is God but just a word To thine whose kingdom shines against Existence's absurd And most perplexing paradoxes Of dualities of man And its sealed Pandora's boxes Of reality's demand Upon the lonely lucid dreamer Who has seen beyond desire In a world of Disney Movies Where such fairy tales expire To a hungry belly's hatred And the fear of thirsty lips And taking more than your fair share Of poison apple trips

20

A lithe monarch In the willowy meadow; Ourn phalanxes sutured As seducer's of plush marshmallow pillow's. Avow I shalt, one's high name I'll be burned for her safety; Taking her grazing Drying her in the rain. Anon her hand, to be on mine wrist Apostle's of kinship, succulent wish; None Asp's to swallow in, forgiveness of sin Assenting in espousal, one letting me in. To beget her, to giveth her a simper beggarly I am, as beseeching get's bigger; Since I'm losing all hope, placeth me on the bier Moveth mine carrion, into the flame of tear's.. ©Brandon nagley ©lonesome poet's poetry

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Aug 4, 2015

Aug 4, 2015 at 2:48 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

Fflam deigryn yn ( Flame of tear's) welsh tongue

A lithe monarch In the willowy meadow; Ourn phalanxes sutured As seducer's of plush marshmallow pillow's. Avow I shalt, one's high name I'll be burned for her safety; Taking her grazing Drying her in the rain. Anon her hand, to be on mine wrist Apostle's of kinship, succulent wish; None Asp's to swallow in, forgiveness of sin Assenting in espousal, one letting me in. To beget her, to giveth her a simper beggarly I am, as beseeching get's bigger; Since I'm losing all hope, placeth me on the bier Moveth mine carrion, into the flame of tear's.. ©Brandon nagley ©lonesome poet's poetry

18

It charged us Breaking through the enemy's ranks Scattering men like toothpicks Theirs, then ours It was mad, but all war is mad Some of us stood our ground As it shook from its furious rage Shoulder to shoulder, brothers Hacking the enemy, Sliding swords deep in to their skins Until their ranks parted like the sea And our phalanxes shattered Whether men stayed, frozen Or ran, ******* themselves in fear The enemy now brought brother from fear I watched from the vanguard King's Own, Pride of the Empire Our ranks splintered, trampled Beneath massive, mad feet Thrown by this four tucked beast Solace might be found Maybe in that both sides lost This creature gored and pulped Either with abandon Whipping it's fury forward; blood blind Scant twenty paces from me I stood my ground as soldiers should Memorized by its horrid beauty Sword half drawn; paltry effort To stem the storm, hold an ocean It's massive head, tossed, twisted The smallest figure, it's demonic handler Astride its sinewy thick neck Holding only a mallet Riding it to the ground Skidding, skidding the mass of flesh A trickle of blood running down Slipping down a behometh's head A tear staining its rider's cheek The creature, lungs heaving, just last Finally, this nightmarish charge Ended by its handler's love A chisel driven deep into its brain Berserker's stained rage Stilled for want of war A single moment's pause Before I brought my own beast up Charging up massive flesh Hooves digging deep for purchase Stooping deep, cocking arm Deliver my own stroke Long blade taking that mans head I am off, my horse bellows Lungs like billows, frosted breath In this morning's war torn cold My furs, now soiled red Eyes just as red raged rimmed Across the war machines back Legs dancing to bring me next Closer, nearer; exploit this pause Turn the tide, bring chaos directed I know my brothers are at my side Hacking with strength unthought No glance unnoticed, I simply know Every move around me, everyone My warbeast awakened, alive Perfectly calm in this wake

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Feb 15, 2015

Feb 15, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC

httphellopoetryacid-love

Eliphant

It charged us Breaking through the enemy's ranks Scattering men like toothpicks Theirs, then ours It was mad, but all war is mad Some of us stood our ground As it shook from its furious rage Shoulder to shoulder, brothers Hacking the enemy, Sliding swords deep in to their skins Until their ranks parted like the sea And our phalanxes shattered Whether men stayed, frozen Or ran, ******* themselves in fear The enemy now brought brother from fear I watched from the vanguard King's Own, Pride of the Empire Our ranks splintered, trampled Beneath massive, mad feet Thrown by this four tucked beast Solace might be found Maybe in that both sides lost This creature gored and pulped Either with abandon Whipping it's fury forward; blood blind Scant twenty paces from me I stood my ground as soldiers should Memorized by its horrid beauty Sword half drawn; paltry effort To stem the storm, hold an ocean It's massive head, tossed, twisted The smallest figure, it's demonic handler Astride its sinewy thick neck Holding only a mallet Riding it to the ground Skidding, skidding the mass of flesh A trickle of blood running down Slipping down a behometh's head A tear staining its rider's cheek The creature, lungs heaving, just last Finally, this nightmarish charge Ended by its handler's love A chisel driven deep into its brain Berserker's stained rage Stilled for want of war A single moment's pause Before I brought my own beast up Charging up massive flesh Hooves digging deep for purchase Stooping deep, cocking arm Deliver my own stroke Long blade taking that mans head I am off, my horse bellows Lungs like billows, frosted breath In this morning's war torn cold My furs, now soiled red Eyes just as red raged rimmed Across the war machines back Legs dancing to bring me next Closer, nearer; exploit this pause Turn the tide, bring chaos directed I know my brothers are at my side Hacking with strength unthought No glance unnoticed, I simply know Every move around me, everyone My warbeast awakened, alive Perfectly calm in this wake

67

Arise children of the fatherland The day of glory has arrived Against us tyranny's ****** standard is raised Listen to the sound in the fields The howling of these fearsome soldiers They are coming into our midst To cut the throats of your sons and consorts To arms citizens Form your battalions March, march Let impure blood Water our furrows What do they want this horde of slaves Of traitors and conspiratorial kings? For whom these vile chains These long-prepared irons? Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage What methods must be taken? It is us they dare plan To return to the old slavery! What! These foreign cohorts! They would make laws in our courts! What! These mercenary phalanxes Would cut down our warrior sons Good Lord! By chained hands Our brow would yield under the yoke The vile despots would have themselves be The masters of destiny Tremble, tyrants and traitors The shame of all good men Tremble! Your parricidal schemes Will receive their just reward Against you we are all soldiers If they fall, our young heros France will bear new ones Ready to join the fight against you Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors Bear or hold back your blows Spare these sad victims That they regret taking up arms against us But not these ****** despots These accomplices of Bouillé All these tigers who pitilessly Ripped out their mothers' wombs We too shall enlist When our elders' time has come To add to the list of deeds Inscribed upon their tombs We are much less jealous of surviving them Than of sharing their coffins We shall have the sublime pride Of avenging or joining them Drive on sacred patriotism Support our avenging arms Liberty, cherished liberty Join the struggle with your defenders Under our flags, let victory Hurry to your manly tone So that in death your enemies See your triumph and our glory!

0

Dec 2, 2014

Dec 2, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC

jon-daniel-shierling

La Marseillaise

Arise children of the fatherland The day of glory has arrived Against us tyranny's ****** standard is raised Listen to the sound in the fields The howling of these fearsome soldiers They are coming into our midst To cut the throats of your sons and consorts To arms citizens Form your battalions March, march Let impure blood Water our furrows What do they want this horde of slaves Of traitors and conspiratorial kings? For whom these vile chains These long-prepared irons? Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage What methods must be taken? It is us they dare plan To return to the old slavery! What! These foreign cohorts! They would make laws in our courts! What! These mercenary phalanxes Would cut down our warrior sons Good Lord! By chained hands Our brow would yield under the yoke The vile despots would have themselves be The masters of destiny Tremble, tyrants and traitors The shame of all good men Tremble! Your parricidal schemes Will receive their just reward Against you we are all soldiers If they fall, our young heros France will bear new ones Ready to join the fight against you Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors Bear or hold back your blows Spare these sad victims That they regret taking up arms against us But not these ****** despots These accomplices of Bouillé All these tigers who pitilessly Ripped out their mothers' wombs We too shall enlist When our elders' time has come To add to the list of deeds Inscribed upon their tombs We are much less jealous of surviving them Than of sharing their coffins We shall have the sublime pride Of avenging or joining them Drive on sacred patriotism Support our avenging arms Liberty, cherished liberty Join the struggle with your defenders Under our flags, let victory Hurry to your manly tone So that in death your enemies See your triumph and our glory!

60

Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting piquantly piqued, pimply pimping ******* plucky pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian puppeteer pygmy, peevishly ***** plummy, plumy, pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck, pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing, parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist, polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache, peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial principles, plenty public parking, purposefully promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters, profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling, proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.

0

Jun 7, 2018

Jun 7, 2018 at 7:48 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Pesky Poppycock Payback! Please Prepare!

Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting piquantly piqued, pimply pimping ******* plucky pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian puppeteer pygmy, peevishly ***** plummy, plumy, pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck, pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing, parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist, polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache, peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial principles, plenty public parking, purposefully promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters, profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling, proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.

32

When Friday night comes, it's inevitable. Phalanxes in the many, dancing, drinking and having fun. In bars long lines on one road like a railing. This fever won't be over until the night is done. I'm dismay by all that over excitement, And very melancholy by being alone all day. But when the Friday night interpose in enlightenment. All my long lasting sadness all fades away. Call me an elated person when the fever hits me. To be sagacious and to act judicious of an account. About the people I see, we party the flee. Kind of suspicious and much heats there with us. Maybe I'm assailant and love to **** night's time, Flies fly by to join the extravaganza. In a place sanguinary not really sanitary. Any day of the week, but Friday night's fever is in every month even mine, foreveruary.

0

Feb 21, 2018

Feb 21, 2018 at 3:03 PM UTC

St_Samiel

Friday Night's Fever

When Friday night comes, it's inevitable. Phalanxes in the many, dancing, drinking and having fun. In bars long lines on one road like a railing. This fever won't be over until the night is done. I'm dismay by all that over excitement, And very melancholy by being alone all day. But when the Friday night interpose in enlightenment. All my long lasting sadness all fades away. Call me an elated person when the fever hits me. To be sagacious and to act judicious of an account. About the people I see, we party the flee. Kind of suspicious and much heats there with us. Maybe I'm assailant and love to **** night's time, Flies fly by to join the extravaganza. In a place sanguinary not really sanitary. Any day of the week, but Friday night's fever is in every month even mine, foreveruary.

16