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Best Famous Armageddon Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Armageddon poems. This is a select list of the best famous Armageddon poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Armageddon poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of armageddon poems.

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Written by Kathleen Raine | Create an image from this poem

Millenial Hymn to Lord Shiva

 Earth no longer
hymns the Creator,
the seven days of wonder,
the Garden is over —
all the stories are told,
the seven seals broken
all that begins
must have its ending,
our striving, desiring,
our living and dying,
for Time, the bringer
of abundant days
is Time the destroyer —
In the Iron Age
the Kali Yuga
To whom can we pray
at the end of an era
but the Lord Shiva,
the Liberator, the purifier?

Our forests are felled,
our mountains eroded,
the wild places
where the beautiful animals
found food and sanctuary
we have desolated,
a third of our seas,
a third of our rivers
we have polluted
and the sea-creatures dying.
Our civilization’s blind progress in wrong courses through wrong choices has brought us to nightmare where what seems, is, to the dreamer, the collective mind of the twentieth century — this world of wonders not divine creation but a big bang of blind chance, purposeless accident, mother earth’s children, their living and loving, their delight in being not joy but chemistry, stimulus, reflex, valueless, meaningless, while to our machines we impute intelligence, in computers and robots we store information and call it knowledge, we seek guidance by dialling numbers, pressing buttons, throwing switches, in place of family our companions are shadows, cast on a screen, bodiless voices, fleshless faces, where was the Garden a Disney-land of virtual reality, in place of angels the human imagination is peopled with foot-ballers film-stars, media-men, experts, know-all television personalities, animated puppets with cartoon faces — To whom can we pray for release from illusion, from the world-cave, but Time the destroyer, the liberator, the purifier? The curse of Midas has changed at a touch, a golden handshake earthly paradise to lifeless matter, where once was seed-time, summer and winter, food-chain, factory farming, monocrops for supermarkets, pesticides, weed-killers birdless springs, endangered species, battery-hens, hormone injections, artificial insemination, implants, transplants, sterilization, surrogate births, contraception, cloning, genetic engineering, abortion, and our days shall be short in the land we have sown with the Dragon’s teeth where our armies arise fully armed on our killing-fields with land-mines and missiles, tanks and artillery, gas-masks and body-bags, our air-craft rain down fire and destruction, our space-craft broadcast lies and corruption, our elected parliaments parrot their rhetoric of peace and democracy while the truth we deny returns in our dreams of Armageddon, the death-wish, the arms-trade, hatred and slaughter profitable employment of our thriving cities, the arms-race to the end of the world of our postmodern, post-Christian, post-human nations, progress to the nihil of our spent civilization.
But cause and effect, just and inexorable law of the universe no fix of science, nor amenable god can save from ourselves the selves we have become — At the end of history to whom can we pray but to the destroyer, the liberator, the purifier? In the beginning the stars sang together the cosmic harmony, but Time, imperceptible taker-away of all that has been, all that will be, our heart-beat your drum, our dance of life your dance of death in the crematorium, our high-rise dreams, Valhalla, Utopia, Xanadu, Shangri-la, world revolution Time has taken, and soon will be gone Cambridge, Princeton and M.
I.
T.
, Nalanda, Athens and Alexandria all for the holocaust of civilization — To whom shall we pray when our vision has faded but the world-destroyer, the liberator, the purifier? But great is the realm of the world-creator, the world-sustainer from whom we come, in whom we move and have our being, about us, within us the wonders of wisdom, the trees and the fountains, the stars and the mountains, all the children of joy, the loved and the known, the unknowable mystery to whom we return through the world-destroyer, — Holy, holy at the end of the world the purging fire of the purifier, the liberator!
Written by Rudyard Kipling | Create an image from this poem

The Holy War

 "For here lay the excellent wisdom of him that built Mansoul, thatthe
walls could never be broken down nor hurt by the most mighty adverse
potentate unless the townsmen gave consent thereto.
"--Bunyan's Holy War.
) A tinker out of Bedford, A vagrant oft in quod, A privet under Fairfax, A minister of God-- Two hundred years and thirty Ere Armageddon came His single hand portrayed it, And Bunyan was his name! He mapped for those who follow, The world in which we are-- "This famous town of Mansoul" That takes the Holy War.
Her true and traitor people, The gates along her wall, From Eye Gate unto Feel Gate, John Bunyan showed them all.
All enemy divisions, Recruits of every class, And highly-screened positions For flame or poison-gas; The craft that we call modern, The crimes that we call new, John Bunyan had 'em typed and filed In sixteen Eighty-two.
Likewise the Lords of Looseness That hamper faith and works, The Perseverance-Doubters, And Present-Comfort shirks, With brittle intellectuals Who crack beneath a strain-- John Bunyan met that helpful set In Charles the Second's reign.
Emmanuel's vanguard dying For right and not for rights, My Lord Apollyon lying To the State-kept Stockholmites, The Pope, the swithering Neutrals The Kaiser and his Gott-- Their roles, their goals, their naked souls-- He knew and drew the lot.
Now he hath left his quarters, In Bunhill Fields to lie, The wisdom that he taught us Is proven prophecy-- One watchword through our Armies, One answer from our Lands:-- "No dealings with Diabolus As long as Mansoul stands!" A pedlar from a hovel, The lowest of the low, The Father of the Novel, Salvation's first Defoe, Eight blinded generations Ere Armageddon came, He showed us how to meet it, And Bunyan was his name!
Written by Vachel Lindsay | Create an image from this poem

To the United States Senate

 And must the Senator from Illinois 
Be this squat thing, with blinking, half-closed eyes? 
This brazen gutter idol, reared to power 
Upon a leering pyramid of lies? 

And must the Senator from Illinois 
Be the world's proverb of successful shame, 
Dazzling all State house flies that steal and steal, 
Who, when the sad State spares them, count it fame? 

If once or twice within his new won hall 
His vote had counted for the broken men; 
If in his early days he wrought some good — 
We might a great soul's sins forgive him then.
But must the Senator from Illinois Be vindicated by fat kings of gold? And must he be belauded by the smirched, The sleek, uncanny chiefs in lies grown old? Be warned, O wanton ones, who shielded him — Black wrath awaits.
You all shall eat the dust.
You dare not say: "To-morrow will bring peace; Let us make merry, and go forth in lust.
" What will you trading frogs do on a day When Armageddon thunders thro' the land; When each sad patriot rises, mad with shame, His ballot or his musket in his hand? In the distracted states from which you came The day is big with war hopes fierce and strange; Our iron Chicagos and our grimy mines Rumble with hate and love and solemn change.
Too many weary men shed honest tears, Ground by machines that give the Senate ease.
Too many little babes with bleeding hands Have heaped the fruits of empire on your knees.
And swine within the Senate in this day, When all the smothering by-streets weep and wail; When wisdom breaks the hearts of her best sons; When kingly men, voting for truth, may fail: — These are a portent and a call to arms.
Our protest turns into a battle cry: "Our shame must end, our States be free and clean; And in this war we choose to live and die.
"
Written by Rudyard Kipling | Create an image from this poem

The Song of the Old Guard

 Army Reform-.
After Boer war "The Army of a Dream"-Traffics and Discoveries.
Know this, my brethren, Heaven is clear And all the clouds are gone-- The Proper Sort shall flourish now, Good times are coming on"-- The evil that was threatened late To all of our degree Hath passed in discord and debate, And,Hey then up go we! A common people strove in vain To shame us unto toil, But they are spent and we remain, And we shall share the spoil According to our several needs As Beauty shall decree, As Age ordains or Birth concedes, And, Hey then up go we! And they that with accursed zeal Our Service would amend, Shall own the odds and come to heel Ere worse befall their end: For though no naked word be wrote Yet plainly shall they see What pinneth Orders on their coat, And, Hey then up go we! Our doorways that, in time of fear, We opened overwide Shall softly close from year to year Till all be purified; For though no fluttering fan be heard .
Nor chaff be seen to flee-- The Lord shall winnow the Lord's Preferred-- And, Hey then up go we! Our altars which the heathen brake Shall rankly smoke anew, And anise, mint and cummin take Their dread and sovereign due, Whereby the buttons of our trade Shall soon restored be With curious work in gilt and braid, And, Hey then up go we! Then come, my brethren, and prepare The candlesticks and bells, The scarlet, brass, and badger's hair Wherein our Honour dwells, And straitly fence and strictly keep The Ark's integrity Till Armageddon break our sleep .
.
.
And, Hey then go we!
Written by Allen Ginsberg | Create an image from this poem

Hum Bom!

I
Whom bomb?
We bomb'd them!
Whom bomb?
We bomb'd them!
Whom bomb?
We bomb'd them!
Whom bomb?
We bomb'd them!

Whom bomb?
We bomb you!
Whom bomb?
We bomb you!
Whom bomb?
You bomb you!
Whom bomb?
You bomb you!

What do we do?
Who do we bomb?
What do we do?
Who do we bomb?
What do we do?
Who do we bomb?
What do we do?
Who do we bomb?

What do we do?
You bomb! You bomb them!
What do we do?
You bomb! You bomb them!
What do we do?
We bomb! We bomb you!
What do we do?
You bomb! You bomb you!

Whom bomb?
We bomb you!
Whom bomb?
We bomb you!
Whom bomb? You bomb you!
Whom bomb?
You bomb you!

- May 1971

II
- For Don Cherry


Whydja bomb?
We didn't wanna bomb!
Whydja bomb?
We didn't wanna bomb!
Whydja bomb?
You didn't wanna bomb!
Whydja bomb?
You didn't wanna bomb!
Who said bomb?
Who said we hadda bomb?
Who said bomb?
Who said we hadda bomb?
Who said bomb?
Who said you hadda bomb?
Who said bomb?
Who said you hadda bomb?

Who wantsa bomb?
We don't wanna bomb!
Who wantsa bomb?
We don't wanna bomb!
Who wantsa bomb?
We don't wanna bomb!
We don't wanna


we don't wanna

we don't wanna bomb!

Who wanteda bomb?
Somebody musta wanteda bomb!
Who wanteda bomb?
Somebody musta wanteda bomb!
Who wanteda bomb?
Somebody musta wanteda bomb!
Who wanteda bomb?
Somebody musta wanteda bomb!
They wanteda bomb!
They neededa bomb!
They wanteda bomb!
They neededa bomb!
They wanteda bomb!
They neededa bomb!
They wanteda bomb!
They neededa bomb!

They thought they hadda bomb!
They thought they hadda bomb!
They thought they hadda bomb!
They thought they hadda bomb!

Saddam said he hadda bomb!
Bush said he better bomb!
Saddam said he hadda bomb!
Bush said he better bomb!
Saddam said he hadda bomb!
Bush said he better bomb!
Saddam said he hadda bomb!
Bush said he better bomb!

Whatdid he say he better bomb for?
Whatdid he say he better bomb for?
Whatdid he say he better bomb for?
Whatdid he say he better bomb for?

Hadda get ridda Saddam with a bomb!
Hadda get ridda Saddam with a bomb!
Hadda get ridda Saddam with a bomb!
Hadda get ridda Saddam with a bomb!

Saddam's still there building a bomb!
Saddam's still there building a bomb!
Saddam's still there building a bomb!
Saddam's still there building a bomb! 


III

Armageddon did the job
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Armageddon did the job
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Armageddon does the job
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Armageddon does the job

Armageddon for the mob
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Armageddon for the mob
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog

Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog

Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog

Ginsberg says Gog & Magog
Armageddon did the job.
Written by Rudyard Kipling | Create an image from this poem

Englands Answer

 Truly ye come of The Blood; slower to bless than to ban;
Little used to lie down at the bidding of any man.
Flesh of the flesh that I bred, bone of the bone that I bare; Stark as your sons shall be -- stern as your fathers were.
Deeper than speech our love, stronger than life our tether, But we do not fall on the neck nor kiss when we come together.
My arm is nothing weak, my strength is not gone by; Sons, I have borne many sons, but my dugs are not dry.
Look, I have made ye a place and opened wide the doors, That ye may talk together, your Barons and Councillors -- Wards of the Outer March, Lords of the Lower Seas, Ay, talk to your gray mother that bore you on her knees! -- That ye may talk together, brother to brother's face -- Thus for the good of your peoples -- thus for the Pride of the Race.
Also, we will make promise.
So long as The Blood endures, I shall know that your good is mine: ye shall feel that my strength is yours: In the day of Armageddon, at the last great fight of all, That Our House stand together and the pillars do not fall.
Draw now the threefold knot firm on the ninefold bands, And the Law that ye make shall be law after the rule of your lands.
This for the waxen Heath, and that for the Wattle-bloom, This for the Maple-leaf, and that for the southern Broom.
The Law that ye make shall be law and I do not press my will, Because ye are Sons of The Blood and call me Mother still.
Now must ye speak to your kinsmen and they must speak to you, After the use of the English, in straight-flung words and few.
Go to your work and be strong, halting not in your ways, Balking the end half-won for an instant dole of praise.
Stand to your work and be wise -- certain of sword and pen, Who are neither children nor Gods, but men in a world of men!
Written by Siegfried Sassoon | Create an image from this poem

Enemies

 He stood alone in some ***** sunless place 
Where Armageddon ends.
Perhaps he longed For days he might have lived; but his young face Gazed forth untroubled: and suddenly there thronged Round him the hulking Germans that I shot When for his death my brooding rage was hot.
He stared at them, half-wondering; and then They told him how I’d killed them for his sake— Those patient, stupid, sullen ghosts of men; And still there seemed no answer he could make.
At last he turned and smiled.
One took his hand Because his face could make them understand.
Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Little Brother

 Wars have been and wars will be
Till the human race is run;
Battles red by land and sea,
Never peace beneath the sun.
I am old and little care; I'll be cold, my lips be dumb: Brother mine, beware, beware .
.
.
Evil looms the wrath to come.
Eastern skies are dark with strife, Western lands are stark with fear; Rumours of world-war are rife, Armageddon draweth near.
If your carcase you would save, Hear, oh hear, the dreadful drum! Fly to forest, cower in cave .
.
.
Brother, heed the wrath to come! Brother, you were born too late; Human life is but a breath.
Men delve deep, where darkly wait Sinister the seeds of death, There's no moment to delay; Sorrowing the stars are blind.
Little Brother, how I pray You may sanctuary find.
Peoples of the world succumb .
.
.
Fly, poor fools, the WRATH TO COME!