"sieges" poems - Hello Poetry

. *She walks the castle walls at night, with a rose held fast in her fingers, the mist rolls away across the land, the memory of her lover still lingers. Cold flagstones beneath her slippered feet hold the histories of the aeons tight. Old battles, wars, and terrifying sieges, ghosts of ancient warriors wail in the night. And still she clutches his parting gift, she wears the bond burden of his ring, his love weighs upon her broken heart, tears flow free with a melancholic sting. They fall upon the stones and disappear, additions to the heavy tomes of history, little gems writing sadness in a story, as she stares into the distance so wistfully.* © Pagan Paul (10/02/18)

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Feb 12, 2018

Feb 12, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC

PaganPaul

Lady Amarylis

. *She walks the castle walls at night, with a rose held fast in her fingers, the mist rolls away across the land, the memory of her lover still lingers. Cold flagstones beneath her slippered feet hold the histories of the aeons tight. Old battles, wars, and terrifying sieges, ghosts of ancient warriors wail in the night. And still she clutches his parting gift, she wears the bond burden of his ring, his love weighs upon her broken heart, tears flow free with a melancholic sting. They fall upon the stones and disappear, additions to the heavy tomes of history, little gems writing sadness in a story, as she stares into the distance so wistfully.* © Pagan Paul (10/02/18)

18

Try as I might To ignore the insufferable Clamorous racking my brain All too audible Are these despicable Sickening shrill Voices wicked, malicious, Insipid kids still Instigating and baiting Me closer to spill My contempt vitriol Seething passion to **** Every little last filth-frothing Mouth to feed dead Bottom-fed in this Stress-induce cesspool are bred In an **** of virulent, Ignorant stench Still entrenching my senses In sieges of tension And drenching my clenching jaws In reprehension Spat out in the face Of this whole human race But mostly just this Poor excuse for its waste

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Nov 23, 2018

Nov 23, 2018 at 6:10 AM UTC

michael-marchese

Garbage Pail Kids

Try as I might To ignore the insufferable Clamorous racking my brain All too audible Are these despicable Sickening shrill Voices wicked, malicious, Insipid kids still Instigating and baiting Me closer to spill My contempt vitriol Seething passion to **** Every little last filth-frothing Mouth to feed dead Bottom-fed in this Stress-induce cesspool are bred In an **** of virulent, Ignorant stench Still entrenching my senses In sieges of tension And drenching my clenching jaws In reprehension Spat out in the face Of this whole human race But mostly just this Poor excuse for its waste

26

Venerable Stone, Impress upon me your memories. Sieges weathered Seasons tasted May you stand strong for a thousand years

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Nov 9, 2014

Nov 9, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC

WDHaven

Great Uncle Jim

Venerable Stone, Impress upon me your memories. Sieges weathered Seasons tasted May you stand strong for a thousand years

5

"Now be witness again, paint the mightiest armies of earth, Of those armies so rapid so wondrous what saw you to tell us? What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics, Of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains? W. Whitman *all you scar freaks, wound dressers par extraordinaire, you won you lost your hard fought distraught engagement, the siege goes on and on so does those curious panics button down those long sleeves, doctor's note, no phys ed needed, the brain workin hard enuf, fuming fking overtime, rich parents say take a vaca, go far away, poor parents say grow up, get a job, wish they read Whitman, wounded dresser, come cover up my, Curious Panics, my scars reopen on their own, especially those deepest remain...

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Jan 11, 2015

Jan 11, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC

dead-rose-one

Of Curious Panics

"Now be witness again, paint the mightiest armies of earth, Of those armies so rapid so wondrous what saw you to tell us? What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics, Of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains? W. Whitman *all you scar freaks, wound dressers par extraordinaire, you won you lost your hard fought distraught engagement, the siege goes on and on so does those curious panics button down those long sleeves, doctor's note, no phys ed needed, the brain workin hard enuf, fuming fking overtime, rich parents say take a vaca, go far away, poor parents say grow up, get a job, wish they read Whitman, wounded dresser, come cover up my, Curious Panics, my scars reopen on their own, especially those deepest remain...

33

1 in the fourth book of the Peloponnesian War Thucydides tells among other things the story of his unsuccessful expedition among long speeches of chiefs battles sieges plague dense net of intrigues of diplomatic endeavours the episode is like a pin in a forest the Greek colony Amphipolis fell into the hands of Brasidos because Thucydides was late with relief for this he paid his native city with lifelong exile exiles of all times know what price that is 2 generals of the most recent wars if a similar affair happens to them whine on their knees before posterity praise their heroism and innocence they accuse their subordinates envious colleagues unfavourable winds Thucydides says only that he had seven ships it was winter and he sailed quickly 3 if art for its subject will have a broken jar a small broken soul with a great self-pity what will remain after us will it be lovers' weeping in a small ***** hotel when wall-paper dawns Zbigniew Herbert

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Sep 15, 2014

Sep 15, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC

ewelina-pochocka

Why The Classics

1 in the fourth book of the Peloponnesian War Thucydides tells among other things the story of his unsuccessful expedition among long speeches of chiefs battles sieges plague dense net of intrigues of diplomatic endeavours the episode is like a pin in a forest the Greek colony Amphipolis fell into the hands of Brasidos because Thucydides was late with relief for this he paid his native city with lifelong exile exiles of all times know what price that is 2 generals of the most recent wars if a similar affair happens to them whine on their knees before posterity praise their heroism and innocence they accuse their subordinates envious colleagues unfavourable winds Thucydides says only that he had seven ships it was winter and he sailed quickly 3 if art for its subject will have a broken jar a small broken soul with a great self-pity what will remain after us will it be lovers' weeping in a small ***** hotel when wall-paper dawns Zbigniew Herbert

38

in the purple-blue, and star-glittering night yellow swirls shot across the sky and the black tip-topping trees, swayed. i learned, standing in the sweeping grass of that bruise-colored gem-bright night of dreams. i dreamed of rain, and of blue wind of soft meadows, and of driving sieges of oceans rolling over yellow sunset-dappled beaches and of birds, wheeling. in the falling sparkling yellow, of that purple-blue night i spread out my arms, tilted up my face and twirled in the whispering waist-high grass twirled until the stars were golden halos over me and the purple-blood sky was reeling and the grass rushed up to meet my back and i laid there, breathing, and i laughed.

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Oct 16, 2011

Oct 16, 2011 at 8:59 PM UTC

maddie-3

purple-blue nights

in the purple-blue, and star-glittering night yellow swirls shot across the sky and the black tip-topping trees, swayed. i learned, standing in the sweeping grass of that bruise-colored gem-bright night of dreams. i dreamed of rain, and of blue wind of soft meadows, and of driving sieges of oceans rolling over yellow sunset-dappled beaches and of birds, wheeling. in the falling sparkling yellow, of that purple-blue night i spread out my arms, tilted up my face and twirled in the whispering waist-high grass twirled until the stars were golden halos over me and the purple-blood sky was reeling and the grass rushed up to meet my back and i laid there, breathing, and i laughed.

20

My armies are in full retreat: the cannons cold, boots worn down, muskets jammed and rusted -- Well fought and ready for rest. My men seek shelter deep, deep enough that hands cannot reach, and they shall stay there for, perhaps, ever. I was always told "no," that money ran the world and a passion for words will not be enough, that I will fail... So my army is in retreat, tired of fighting a constant defense, using our last resources to build a keep to lock away every imaginative flutter of golden butterflies, and hide away any stray flicker of a thoughtful flame. The oak trees of my mind's forest have been cut down, nothing but stumps and leaves and the smell of industrial smoke from the bark of my oaks. This time next year, I hope not to be completely dead inside that, somehow, deep in the keep of my soul, a willow will weep beautiful tears for lost soldiers and fallen oaks. Perhaps the keep will thrive, fighting off the countless sieges and housing pilgrim dreams. Perhaps the conquerers will be kind, offering mercy to the innocent and a quick death to the ones who deny "no." It breaks my heart to call retreat, but a small, crumbling, wounded dream is better than no dream at all.

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Jan 2, 2015

Jan 2, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC

c-e-smith

My armies are in full retreat

My armies are in full retreat: the cannons cold, boots worn down, muskets jammed and rusted -- Well fought and ready for rest. My men seek shelter deep, deep enough that hands cannot reach, and they shall stay there for, perhaps, ever. I was always told "no," that money ran the world and a passion for words will not be enough, that I will fail... So my army is in retreat, tired of fighting a constant defense, using our last resources to build a keep to lock away every imaginative flutter of golden butterflies, and hide away any stray flicker of a thoughtful flame. The oak trees of my mind's forest have been cut down, nothing but stumps and leaves and the smell of industrial smoke from the bark of my oaks. This time next year, I hope not to be completely dead inside that, somehow, deep in the keep of my soul, a willow will weep beautiful tears for lost soldiers and fallen oaks. Perhaps the keep will thrive, fighting off the countless sieges and housing pilgrim dreams. Perhaps the conquerers will be kind, offering mercy to the innocent and a quick death to the ones who deny "no." It breaks my heart to call retreat, but a small, crumbling, wounded dream is better than no dream at all.

35

बूँद-बूँद बर्सू मैं पानी-पानी खेलूँ खेलूँ और बह जाऊं Are clouds allowed to settle into the sun? is rain allowed to curl up against warm rays in the evening sky? will rains be rains if they aren't a messenger anymore? will the earth miss sieges yearned for? In the eye of a yellow storm in an afternoon canvas, is rain allowed to un-spill? To un-pour, un-cascade, un-fall? लब तेरे यूँ खुले जैसे हर्फ थे होंठ पर यूँ घुले जैसे बर्फ थे Is fire allowed to be consumed by soft snow? are flames allowed to find a home in the heart of winters, nestled along heartlines of ice, cosy, never cold, will red still be red if it is painted over by peace, orange still orange if the sun sets on stubborn fears? In the embrace of gentle snow, is fire allowed to un-burn? To settle down in comfortable ashes, to un-spark, un-engulf, un-destroy. मैं आसमान, तू मेरी ज़मीं

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Apr 6, 2018

Apr 6, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC

shivani-lalan

NaPoWriMo #6 - khul kabhi toh

बूँद-बूँद बर्सू मैं पानी-पानी खेलूँ खेलूँ और बह जाऊं Are clouds allowed to settle into the sun? is rain allowed to curl up against warm rays in the evening sky? will rains be rains if they aren't a messenger anymore? will the earth miss sieges yearned for? In the eye of a yellow storm in an afternoon canvas, is rain allowed to un-spill? To un-pour, un-cascade, un-fall? लब तेरे यूँ खुले जैसे हर्फ थे होंठ पर यूँ घुले जैसे बर्फ थे Is fire allowed to be consumed by soft snow? are flames allowed to find a home in the heart of winters, nestled along heartlines of ice, cosy, never cold, will red still be red if it is painted over by peace, orange still orange if the sun sets on stubborn fears? In the embrace of gentle snow, is fire allowed to un-burn? To settle down in comfortable ashes, to un-spark, un-engulf, un-destroy. मैं आसमान, तू मेरी ज़मीं

29

Thou must deny thy power To enlighten hearts, they're pure What thou should behold Is thy help to stay that bold Hath thou ever believed in chastity? Then it hath been too late to be When thou dissed grieves in levity It is better not to forget history Legions, armors, protections, sieges War bugles, tear drops, bloodshed Orphans, widows, maniacs, cages Rapists, religions, trials, are been led Until no white flags are raised Immobile fingers and legs scatter In the dirt by swords ablazed Wish doves with mint leaves matter

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Dec 8, 2016

Dec 8, 2016 at 3:03 AM UTC

maneomsy

Finding Peace

Thou must deny thy power To enlighten hearts, they're pure What thou should behold Is thy help to stay that bold Hath thou ever believed in chastity? Then it hath been too late to be When thou dissed grieves in levity It is better not to forget history Legions, armors, protections, sieges War bugles, tear drops, bloodshed Orphans, widows, maniacs, cages Rapists, religions, trials, are been led Until no white flags are raised Immobile fingers and legs scatter In the dirt by swords ablazed Wish doves with mint leaves matter

16

They dragged him to the gallows He did not kick nor scream They dragged him to the gallows To watch the father hang As with ages sang from sandy storms Historic distortion in the scorn of woe Fate was chosen of a frozen foe Calculated to the sum of that which cannot be known As he roamed the tides of time To find a home to shine Until dim But it found him and blotted out the vices of victory in victimless villainy upon the vanity of his venom, beautifully belittling the betterment of his ******* benevolence in malevolent speechlessness from his grinning sieges of silence, knifing through the violence with the ballistic alignment of a consignment contract to contact the creatures of the black. What once was lost ... Is back

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Dec 23, 2012

Dec 23, 2012 at 4:17 AM UTC

Mikhael

Metamor

They dragged him to the gallows He did not kick nor scream They dragged him to the gallows To watch the father hang As with ages sang from sandy storms Historic distortion in the scorn of woe Fate was chosen of a frozen foe Calculated to the sum of that which cannot be known As he roamed the tides of time To find a home to shine Until dim But it found him and blotted out the vices of victory in victimless villainy upon the vanity of his venom, beautifully belittling the betterment of his ******* benevolence in malevolent speechlessness from his grinning sieges of silence, knifing through the violence with the ballistic alignment of a consignment contract to contact the creatures of the black. What once was lost ... Is back

14

Rich men wage wars Why don't they fight them Politicians,oligarch Soldiers dying for what? Rich men sending away poor men To die for some more money Some more power Some more land Just some more And more And more No side is the saint All of them, narcissistic egomaniacs,f**k them The cost is paid by those who don't know what it is even for By the innocent What did they do? And God never punishes the evil,only the innocent For absolute futility,families lose their children,people lose their nation For what? And you can give me many reasons to justify But how do you justify death Can you give them back what you have taken And you can give many speeches But can you tell me why is the old mother crying Why is that road red Why is the little boy orphaned What did they do? What is there fault? Why bring us into your sick games? And afterwards you celebrate But has any war ever been truly won? Both sides lose something Your soldiers are not my enemy Just humans,thinking he is doing the right thing War is the cost of peace,peace is the cost of war,a cycle of death,destruction and madness Madness,absolute madness Tyrants thinking they own us,and they do One man's ego ruining millions of lives How can someone be so evil It is their war,of the rich,why are we fighting No you can't However much you try you can justify mindless killing Not a single one of them Not a million We are not guns or tanks that can be bought and made We humans who live and laugh,have beating hard We aren't collateral damage And if we don't die we starve You may ask who are we? Many more than you estimate Who are you? This blood,this death,this destruction And you paint the dead as heroes and martyrs because you can't give them their lives back All the money in the world going to **** people who have nothing to do with it Peace is not profitable Peace is not in your interest Gory glory Red rivers You say its for good But don't you shiver When you see the tears In the widows eye The orphan children playing with wasted guns How do you sleep at night? Who is right who is wrong The left or right,I don't know You say,"us or them" There is no them It's only us,this whole world ,this is us,you are the 'them' Just tell me one thing before you call me coward It's blood on whose hand? People dying People crying People writing songs on wars On the sieges and victories And the pointlessness of it all Love will win Peace will win Love will win Peace will win Love will win Peace will win Love will win Peace will .................

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Feb 28, 2022

Feb 28, 2022 at 5:26 PM UTC

daivik

War

Rich men wage wars Why don't they fight them Politicians,oligarch Soldiers dying for what? Rich men sending away poor men To die for some more money Some more power Some more land Just some more And more And more No side is the saint All of them, narcissistic egomaniacs,f**k them The cost is paid by those who don't know what it is even for By the innocent What did they do? And God never punishes the evil,only the innocent For absolute futility,families lose their children,people lose their nation For what? And you can give me many reasons to justify But how do you justify death Can you give them back what you have taken And you can give many speeches But can you tell me why is the old mother crying Why is that road red Why is the little boy orphaned What did they do? What is there fault? Why bring us into your sick games? And afterwards you celebrate But has any war ever been truly won? Both sides lose something Your soldiers are not my enemy Just humans,thinking he is doing the right thing War is the cost of peace,peace is the cost of war,a cycle of death,destruction and madness Madness,absolute madness Tyrants thinking they own us,and they do One man's ego ruining millions of lives How can someone be so evil It is their war,of the rich,why are we fighting No you can't However much you try you can justify mindless killing Not a single one of them Not a million We are not guns or tanks that can be bought and made We humans who live and laugh,have beating hard We aren't collateral damage And if we don't die we starve You may ask who are we? Many more than you estimate Who are you? This blood,this death,this destruction And you paint the dead as heroes and martyrs because you can't give them their lives back All the money in the world going to **** people who have nothing to do with it Peace is not profitable Peace is not in your interest Gory glory Red rivers You say its for good But don't you shiver When you see the tears In the widows eye The orphan children playing with wasted guns How do you sleep at night? Who is right who is wrong The left or right,I don't know You say,"us or them" There is no them It's only us,this whole world ,this is us,you are the 'them' Just tell me one thing before you call me coward It's blood on whose hand? People dying People crying People writing songs on wars On the sieges and victories And the pointlessness of it all Love will win Peace will win Love will win Peace will win Love will win Peace will win Love will win Peace will .................

84

There is a lion living within my soul - and my soul lives within a lion. The courage of this lion outshines - all contenders, all pretenders to love. Love stronger than all devours- - all sieges arrayed in feeble arraignment- All fall to this lion, this- courageous love.

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Jun 19, 2015

Jun 19, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC

nivek

A Poets Love

There is a lion living within my soul - and my soul lives within a lion. The courage of this lion outshines - all contenders, all pretenders to love. Love stronger than all devours- - all sieges arrayed in feeble arraignment- All fall to this lion, this- courageous love.

8

Dies ist ein herrlicher Tag Dies ist ein Tag des Sieges Ein Tag voller Erfolge. Tage sind in die Ewigkeit gekommen Zu irgendeiner Nation Unvergessliche Erinnerungen Zu den Leuten. Dies ist ein Festivaltag Dies ist ein glücklicher Tag Dies ist ein Tag des Fühlens.

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Apr 3, 2021

Apr 3, 2021 at 9:48 PM UTC

hakikur-rahman

Tag des Sieges (German)

Dies ist ein herrlicher Tag Dies ist ein Tag des Sieges Ein Tag voller Erfolge. Tage sind in die Ewigkeit gekommen Zu irgendeiner Nation Unvergessliche Erinnerungen Zu den Leuten. Dies ist ein Festivaltag Dies ist ein glücklicher Tag Dies ist ein Tag des Fühlens.

10