Arsenals Poems | Examples

We'll unfold our verses

If everything’s been written
And everything been said
We won’t speak anymore
Won’t write anymore.
But if we are the new prophets
Sent to remind manhood
The world belongs to God
And if the world drowns off
In the mud of inky well
And scribes and Pharisees
Roar in the vanities
Then we’ll still howl our dreams
Writing down all our visions
And against their arsenals
We will unfold our verses.

Since 1948

The fire was burning like inferno 
Blood, burned fleshes of the people
Ashes of lost hopes and believes
Under the rubbles of the ruined city

And the skies beyond the river 
Beyond the seas of human aspirations
Occupied by the invader and the allies
With the lies and hatred and arsenals

Again, those children without limbs
Among the shadows of the dead bodies
Smelling like burned fleshes, rotten
Yet, with memories- burning like hell

The leaders around the round table
Like those cannibals of Neolithic age
Beaming in joy, with wider smiles
Smelling human fleshes burned alive

Yet nothing was objectionable after
Those lies and deceptions of October 7th
As everything was just in accordance
With the Nakba, since 1948. Since long…

©SriSuvro 3rd August’ 2024

THROUGH THIS VESSEL

Remnants remain, of a once vibrant passion
Scars bear witness of the abrasion
The  cracks are  but  an  indication, of the wars fought
For  a  quest  to  find  that  which  was being sought

Ruins still stand of a majestic castle, that which was a haven of loyalty
The echoes from these rusty arsenals, proclaims the souls that fell casualty,
From the silent wars that claimed a pound of flesh.

He Slept for Sixty Years

     

He slept for sixty years
  then woke up with a start
For the life of him
  he couldn’t tell things apart

Ghettos still all filled with blacks
  War everywhere he turned
Young folks rioting in the streets
  Property looted and burned

World ‘leaders’ puffing out their chests
  threatening to detonate
Nuclear arsenals built to the hilt … 
  Make love, but don’t procreate …  

So, the sleeper saw a doctor
  and told him all his troubles
Doctor said, “Your eye exam
  reveals you’re seeing double”

Let the Essence of Times Change

Intolerance weaves threads of hatred 
in the fabric of our scary times,
innocent blood is shed in madness, 
fanaticism spreads like wild fire, 
life is splintered by lancet of chaos
into disposable debris uncared,
in the psychic grip of insolent stress 
the fostered relationships crash.

Before the world order collapses 
I ardently wish the times change, 
war-tanks become pianos, 
guns form harmonic flutes,
deadly arsenals turn harps, 
mercenaries become violins,
and they all perform the symphony 
of peace and universal brotherhood.

Before the hourglass breaks, 
let the essence of times change,
thorns of contempt turn into flowers, 
cactus of hatred into branch of olive,
crooked minds morph into alchemists, 
and make the golden strands
that will create the garlands,
intertwining all of us with love.

_________________

June 8, 2022
Contest : If Only My Wish Would Come Ture
Sponsored by : Anoucheka Gangabissoon

Apocalypse

Stricken souls gasp amid rapt tension
And surreal panic as the world spirals
Under throes of exacerbating fire;
Trapped between numinous brawls. 

A virulent pandemic subsides
As near-nukes its pedestal take;
Stubborn fear every limb guides
Amid unceasing numbing awe.

Shall life outlast such brutal fury:
As invisible realms arsenals dumb
Blandish upon this bleeding plane;
Upon this rage-pillaged stratum?

Not when viral variants surge 
And spikes inoculations defy;
Not when troops against troops vow 
And warheads against warheads vie.

Armageddon

Age's bloodiest showdown looms, 
Or such it seems by its lurid form; 
Spirit's sharpest arrows must fly
Swifter than is their agile-witted norm. 

Now Armageddon's most savage sword 
Cruelest aim of softest landings takes, 
Though target's dexterous fightback 
Its most foolproof arsenals stakes. 

Thus unfolds time's deadliest flare
Under high heaven's beneficences; 
Watching on with an eye dimly fair, 
Umpiring blows with arcane mien.  

And though its yet baffling to tell
What dismal odds in virtue's favor stand, 
Eons of war-waging jurisprudence repel 
Smiling wins for Gaol's tempestuous fates.

Protestations

an octelle 

Inherently feral, protests
have morphed into a foul abscess.
Our formidable nation
spent from false adoration
incites fulminations widespread.
from forged arsenals of hatred.
 Inherently feral, protests
 have morphed into a foul abscess.

Angry bewildered dissidents
teeming ‘mid brutal incidents,
are leery, believing lies.
Meanwhile broadcasters devise
blindness to ominous truth..
Their solution? the voting booth.
  Angry bewildered dissidents
  teaming ‘mid brutal incidents.


July 24, 2020

Let the Times Change

Intolerance weaves hatred in the fabric of our times,
innocent blood is shed in madness, civilizations clash,
tender hearts splinter into disposable debris uncared,
in the psychic grip of insolent stress relationships crash.

Before savage tides surge, let times change the essence, 
war-tanks become pianos, guns form harmonic flutes,
nuclear arsenals turn harps, soldiers become violins,
performing in symphony of peace and brotherhood.

Before the hourglass breaks, let times change the form,
contempt turns to flower, hatred to branch of olive,
minds morph into alchemists, making golden threads
that will create the garlands of love for the despised.

If not, let the stubborn times go back to the stone age,
write a new hieroglyphic story on the erased plaque.

July 9, 2020
Contest : Strand Completely New (7), Any Theme Any Form
Sponsor : Brian Strand

Why Is the Human Race Trying To Extinguish Itself

Why with the
proliferation of nuclear arsenals
of a global scale
it seems as if
it's inevitable.
Someone eventually
has to drop
another nuclear bomb.
It appears that
it's only a
matter of time.
Why else would
there be so many
scattered around the earth?
Not to mention
all of the Wars
that continue on & on.
You would think
that human kind
would smarten up
and put an end
to all these atrocities.

I Dream of Being Wrong

I Dream of Being Wrong!

It's so frustrating, God but it seems that it's true 
What I see in my heart it's Your pleasure to do!
Still, I wish Lord some dreams might get lost in Your will,
Though our lessons suggest, You feel love for us still. 

"I AM" right! With no thinking? Do some share your dreams?
When I see evil coming, hate rise to extremes,
Should I climb in my ark Lord or trust rainbow's pledge
(As Trump's minions with arsenals dance on life's edge.)

When our timetables differ Lord, sometimes I fear
That my prayers (am I selfish?) did not find Your ear,
Must men soil the whole planet till climate suspends
Any hope of survival? Flea's fleas have no friends!

With the heat slowly rising, firebugs in a sweat
An iceberg in hell dies of sunstroke and yet,
All the science deniers toast first! What a joke!
They did exit with flair! "Oh my God! 'Rapture' Smoke!"


Brian Johnston
7th of October 2018

The Power of Words

The power of words can never be overestimated.
They bring us up, pull us down, embrace us, hurt us, cause us to instantly laugh or cry.
Wars have been fought over them, families have been destroyed by words.
Lovers have separated, never to be reunited after the wrong ones were used in anger or haste.
Words have caused heart ache, misunderstandings, and lifelong feuds.
They have more power in the mouths of parents than any other weapon in their arsenal.
Words are often relived and re-felt over and over for a person’s entire lifetime.
People need to stop and think at least a second or two before using them, and certainly
Look them over several times, before they publish them.
Words can uplift people, make them feel glad they know you, but they
Can also devastate and destroy a person, making them feel sad, put down.
Like bullets, words can never be fully taken back, never totally forgotten or forgiven.
Once they are out there, whether in a sound wave, or on paper, they represent you.
Be careful, my friends. A reputation is with you for a long time, 
and some people are not good at giving second chances.
Words, the most powerful of arsenals.

Demise of Humanity

DEMISE OF HUMANITY

Among the lethal weapons,
are callous calculations,
happiness in my land
home of the hospitality,
Image of those arsenals!

They're meant for humans.
civilization has been corrupted;
Long before nuclear weapons,
but with a single strike,
civilization will be wiped off

The land we plough,
the soil we till all day,
Assiduity is our watchword.
Civilization was born by Africa,
In our hand it blossoms.

Satire 104

Abubakar Shekur died yesterday 
So said our militant with kind lips.
He resurrected today and die the next 
day in a shoot out with the military men.
He is a superman who doesn't die at once!
He has more weapons than they have and
They continue to kill him without weapons.


Our Militant group are so powerful 
Killing one person more than four times,
And he is yet to die with his arsenals.
Oh, what a sweet lips we all have in here!
Lips like that of the serpent of  old time,
Like the lips of a politician in Africa!
We decieved ourselves ourselves no one to blame.


(C) John Chizoba Vincent
From_A_Pen_Refusing_Frustration.

Sonic Youth

Arsenals of axes brought by the crate
Pedals increasing experimental
Trashy dissections of raw cityscapes
NYC rockers gone transcendental
 
Static blasts shredding the off-key high pings
Maracas hit toms to keep structured pace
Drum sticks wedged under alternate tunings
Meted by contrasting booms of the bass
 
Dissonance anteed raises the ceiling
Shaping sound by analog disruption
Searching/defining an urban feeling
Stark layers of beautiful corruption
 
Sweet ballads sung without being pretty
Growls and screams about something gritty

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