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The Best Armageddon Poems

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as the PROPHETS of profits, WE lead and WE’re fair
while WE’re living the life of the poor BILLIONAIRE
– silver yachts, pearly castles, cash (plenty to spare) –
with the world on OUR backs... ah! the burdens WE bear!

being HAVES (not the have-nots) as nature decrees
means WE’re certainly the better (they’re vermin on sleaze).
if they pray for a lift in their dark fantasies,
WE just kick ’em downstairs, get ’em off of their knees.

yes, WE offer great jobs (much too busy OURSELVES!)
for maintaining the toilets, restacking the shelves,
and WE teach ’em to fear god and play with the elves,
thus dispelling ideas where the dark demon delves.

though they build mighty bridges, twin towers and more,
peddle pizzas and popcorn, sell guns door-to-door,
still they gotta have BOSSES to tell ’em the score
else WE’d never be needed, WE’d thrive nevermore.

when OUR profits are plunging, they do their part too
for they dine on the dole! yes, no hullabaloo!
soon OUR fortunes  redouble, rebound and accrue –
since WE fare well without ’em, WE bid ’em adieu.

’stead of wishing for welfare and standing in queues
or parading with pickets (look! holes in their shoes!),
they’d be better off scabbing to save union dues.
while WE whistle and warble, they’re singing the blues.

whether heroes or hoboes, like spiders and lice
they just crawl all around us in life’s paradise,
but WE’re patient, big hearted and oft sacrifice,
spewing charity, kindness (though each has its price).

if they’re beaten or punctured or suffer assault,
are unhealthy or crippled or walk with a halt,
or retarded or helpless, it’s all their own fault – 
just like US they should worship the DOLLAR exalt’!

protesters and loud mouths, you’ll find ’em aplenty
some older, some younger, the worst not yet twenty.
they’re shameless and brazen (unwashed, soiled and scenty)
impugning the prestige of brave COGNOSCENTI.

if they’ve got clashing colors (or shades in between)
or opposing beliefs in the hidden unseen, 
well, WE’ll always exploit it, deflecting their spleen,
for with god on each side, would WE dare intervene?

WE maintain many methods to keep ’em in chains –
daily rags and the tube spin OUR circus campaigns:
“to pretend you’ve a voice”, an announcement explains,
“you can vote and decide on which ONE of US reigns”.

OUR policemen protect US, they stay on the ball
(they arrest ’em, no questions per law’s protocol,
and then jam ’em in jail with their backs to the wall) –
if you’ve lucre for lawyers there’s justice for all.

down the ROYAL road of justice WE march all alone 
– WE condemn their defiance, set ways to atone –
since WE’re sinless, unsullied, WE cast the first stone
(while WE cloak REGAL fetor with eau de cologne).

politicians, bald bankers, grand idols galore,
attend meetings, fete banquets in which they explore
how to rid US of rodents (the weak and the poor) –
well, just round up the riff-raff, dispatch ’em to war!

ah! OUR wars are, well, just...... just a thing of the past
........... and the present............... and future... WE sure make them last!
if they frown as they gaze (Armageddon!) aghast,
then WE smile back with pleasure, OUR treasures amassed.

useless ranting and raving (in rags, when they’re clad),
leads to losing their teeth (my! their gums are... egad!).
WE’re unselfish, indulgent, WE’d never be mad
if they drowned in the sounds of themselves feeling sad.

as the paupers are princes in midnight’s domain,
they have pipe dreams to lose, certainly nothing to gain
if they’re hoping OUR fortunes will wither and wane –
for “WE’re here by god’s will” as WE often explain.

yes, they wish to be US, with OUR wisdom and grace,
keeping up with ol’ CROESUS, maintaining the pace.   
but perverseness or rancor? they’ll see not a trace –
for WE hold ’em at bay with a fist in the face.

WE’re la CRÈME de la CRÈME, yes! the proud UPPER CRUST,
and OUR clothes are the finest, OUR hair never mussed –
WE imbue ’em with piety, duty and trust 
and they’re fed bread and water (if feed ’em WE must).

but they’re thieving, aggrieved, want a piece of OUR PIE
and request WE endure ’em, see EYE to black eye.
since they live in OUR land where OUR strict rules apply,
they must feast on the crumbs that We cast to the sty.

though OUR largesse and bounty WE don’t mean to flaunt,
yet the pittance WE pay ’em they surely can vaunt –
salty peanuts and pretzels (what more could they want?)
thereby keeping their kiddies so healthily gaunt.

yes, there’s room for the rabble (the back of the bus)
’cause WE treat ’em like equals, so what’s all the fuss?
all can rise to the top (yes! it’s always been thus),
to the suites in OUR penthouse (to sweep up and dust).

while OUR CHILDREN have tutors, the finest of schools
(being bred for the forefront, THEY’re nobody’s fools),
their own school of hard knocks teaches: “follow the rules”,
building brawn ’stead of brains and broad backs strong as mules’.

and to keep ’em in line (to ensure WE prevail)
WE now monitor phone calls and read all their mail
(civil rights? what a notion! at best a detail!)
and if worse comes to worst...... well...... guantanamo jail!

WE’ve OUR quandaries and questions and headaches full blown
(like deciding design and decor of OUR throne...
whether diamonds or rubies... to gemstones WE’re prone) .
when WE deign to appease ’em, WE chuck ’em a bone.

now you know all OUR problems, OUR pains and travails
– like preparing foreclosures, evictions  and sales –
but WE’ve no need for worries or gnawed fingernails,
’cause WE’re sailing OUR yachts through tempestuous gales
(with them bailing OUR banks when OUR stock market fails)
sipping daiquiri sours, champagnes, ginger ales.

Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2013

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Heat Source Hunger

Wonder not
if my thoughts are thrilled and twisted
daily and deeply by the albums of your ways,
I succumb severely to the impulse of imminent interplay
so dumb with joy, grateful for the fusion of our fevers,
I've never let you leave my mind,
you haven't finished eating your portion of my heart,
there is so much more for you, still in my chest, on my eyes,

I am your rare happiness,
that bare beast of a woman's best distress,
trigger your storm sirens with a single drop of Goodbye,
serve you with the most sensational sadness,
replenish your youth with an admiration that won't die,
knowing that I am not a makeshift man, nor a loyalty within a lie,
that I'll punish your pulse with peppered pleasure
because I can, because I must,
pull your hair just to hear those breaths beg for big flares,
treat the smooth and sweet lascerations of love's lament
butterfly cut into the surface of a girl's search for sincerity,
we get intoxicated on performance of personality,
buzzed beautifully from believing in the addiction of adoration's affliction,

We know we can handle one another's hurt
as warriors bleed hard because they sell themselves the sacrafice,
that we can process history with humor by breaking the shame of blame,
synthesize epiphany with sympathy to nourish symphonies of Divinity
we realize that intensity is the regal implement of our tournament, 

I like it when you tell me the tough truths,
that you want to be loved for more than one reason,
that being respected in segments isn't enough,
that he will never be me,
that words can outlast the disappointment of distance,
that the world overwhelms you when you most expect,
that sometimes you'd rather be a heart attack
before being a pretty song or a favorite memory,
I understand your need for absolute affection, absolute attention,
lets allow our love to be confusing, dazzling, on the verge of villainy, 
it isn't steady as a sleeping heart beat
or ready for celebration like a " gee wiz " graduation,
it is our Love, and its undefinably volatile and lovely,

Your cosmos gives a question that feeds one answer,
that love is ours, safe in the arms Armageddon, 
I remember the ember of our future
spazing on the hearth of fresh earth,
don't ever miss me Babe, just keep lovin me -


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014

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Tiptoe, tiptoe, what they say is not what they say it is . . . 

Cameras rolling, take one, action! 
“How stupid can you be? You’re fired!”    
He told a judge quite candidly. 

In take two, from his office on Fifth Avenue,  
He tweeted,  “Nobody has more respect 
For women than I do.” 

On take three 
During a press conference, 
“We’ll blow terrorist Al-Baghdadi 
Out of existence.” 

Then he stood, saluted the flag, and 
Ordered General “Mad Dog” to protect the land. 

Tiptoe, tiptoe, what they say is not what they say it is . . .

They say Doomsday is coming, 
Polar caps are melting,  
An asteroid just missed us today  
Iranians want a bomb 
To explode in Armageddon, 
And North Korea tested 
A long-range missile yesterday. 

Both sides are wrong... 

Beware, or pay dearly, 
To the victor belongs the spoils, 
For in the land of the free and 
Home of the braves, 
A new boss man's in town

Fake news on display...bad men raining down 

Tiptoe, tiptoe, what they say is not what they say it is . . .

The boss is riding, guns ablaze, shooting at the sun, 
Stirring up flames all across America, Russia,  and China— 
The whole world’s wondering, who's this character? 

Wake up and smell the coffee! 

Republicans say, 
“He's the forty-fifth  President today,
Top dog in Washington,
Who can activate the nuclear bomb.” 

With the greatest memory around... A double negative caused the problem

He says America will be great again 
Then placed a ban on Muslims coming in.  
He made it clear to Peña Nieto, 
Bad hombres must go, 
That a wall on the border 
Will stop the illegal immigrant flow 

Where is the server and 50,000 emails~ Russia do you know?

Tiptoe, tiptoe, what they say is not what they say it is…

Copyright © Arturo Michael | Year Posted 2017

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There is no collaboration in War Poison winds and bullets The fallout from a silent bomb that arrives out of nowhere Lives left dead and damaged in the rubble Line's drawn Zip code Zip locked A Child's Tears A Mother's Face A blood running river silent scream An absent State of Grace A pointed loaded gun Homeless nowhere to run The enemy could be close those you know havoc reeking destruction A pointed loaded gun Another's War Damascus (Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Feb) 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

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End of Days

                                                        war between nations
                                                    rivers overflow with blood --
                                                         the earth convulses

                                                         a crimson sky glows
                                                       meteorites fall like rain --
                                                         hearts fill with terror

                                                           stars fall from the sky
                                                   darkness overcomes the earth --
                                                         screams fade to nothing

                                                            end of days has come --
                                                     all life has been extinguished
                                                             the earth is no more

written June 19, 2012 for Gail Doyle's The End of the World/Armageddon contest.

Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2012

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Kill You Today, Love You Tomorrow-Love And War

I lay in my bed day by day,
thinking of what next to say,
I feel I dont love you 
its like I was drowning & now 
I'm ashore
I feel no love & no hate my 
heart is sore.
all is fair in love & war 
Inside my twisted mind i mix,
Two very different links, 
Today you die, 
tomorrow you cry,
today I'm wielding a sword, 
tomorrow I'm defeated by 
your words.
I see you in my dreams, 
but we are on different teams, 
it feels so right & yet its so 
its like I'm in heaven, but not 
for long. 
I will kill you today & love you 
this day is on happiness & the
next sorrow, 
Why am I like this? Are you to 
Why are you always that 
I stand in the midst of 
ready for war, 
with my armour & hammer 
looking like thor, 
I see you on the other side 
are you looking for more?, 
only God knows what it is 
we're fighting for!

Copyright © Bertrand Raven Banda | Year Posted 2013

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When Words Cut Like Blades

safe haven for poets once existed till destructive forces came on board those who seek just to hurt others end up harming themselves several such people have inflicted pain here though no one would call them “writers” juvenile antics and hateful comments are their only legacies through profanity and threats digging holes to poetry’s Armageddon alienating those who won’t strike back or resort to petty, personal attacks they say, "You're the most despised among the soup clan" spew lava-like proclamations hold grudges for years when they don't place in a contest where only quality work won evil doers adopt numerous aliases to favorite each of their own poems but poets can easily identify them as their “attempts” at poems all sound the same if one who can’t write, gives you a contest win what is it you have really won their friendship? No, they don’t have friends do you compare your poetry to theirs who wants to share on such a site where mean-spirited people call the shots other places enforce rules to promote civility let your conscience guide you to these sites
August 18, 2014

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014

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The Breakfast Club

Dr. Zhivago, 12 angry men  Valdez is coming Clear and Present danger Scent of a woman Armageddon Medicine Man

Top Gun the ninth gate Dangerous minds, Milk money wings of the dove
Cider house rules and shangi noon

The shadow  {knows} Bugsy the firm dangerous dogs Jack
Men of honor Quills WATERBOY
the way we were Dead Poets Society bird on a Wire 50 first dates
Never been kissed

gone with the wind Cactus flower Serpico The little mermaid
good will hunting  unstrung heros

The Labarinth Wizard of Oz Miracle on 34 th street

Beguiled the good the bad and the ugly High plains drifter
Love Story, 2001 a space Odyssey  16 candles
Pretty in Pink Star wars   The Robe...    

Copyright © gary dye | Year Posted 2014

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We were accustomed to read one thousand 
And one night in Baghdad...
Tonight the glorious city-sky is sad,
It sounded bang! Bang 
Where is my mummy? Where is my dad?
Are they all alive under the cruise wreckage;
Or are they all dead?
The a ‘Rashid city was weeping,
It rained hatred,
It rained prejudiced,
It rained cactus of different shapes,
They're all aliens, 
Some were homemade,
They're all colourful,
In blue, in yellow and in red.
Do you still remember brother?
Because if you don't I still do
What the big Satan, Lucifer what he said!
The cross versus the crescent, take it or leave it,
An entire racism by the media was also fed.
Some hidden in a banker,
Others crawling of hunger,
Others demonstrating with anger,
Pale, yellowish faces they all looked bad.
Where is my nation..My Arabity..My Islam ?
Oh...Mutasamahh! Where are my brothers?
Are they all dead???
They called it precise bombing and it was right indeed,
In the heart of the baby-heart 
Like the British game of dart,
The arrow hit its target,
It hit it like mad.
Nobody moves a finger,
In the age of Patriot and Stinger,
They all believe in star-wars, economic prosperity, 
They all believe in the Pope, pop-star singer,
They all believe that one-day Allah would side with them to defeat, 
The neo-Thamud and Aad,
They're all waiting for the coming future Mahdi,
And for the Armageddon battle to be led.  

Copyright © Abder Derradji | Year Posted 2015

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Last Call

Songs unsung will disappear,
as breathless as a stone, the fear
of Armageddon fills the air
and gathers strength against a prayer
that withers, fizzles into nought,
despite the lessons we were taught,
to love our neighbours as we would
be loved by them, the greater good.

Or take His name in vain, the strain
of blending with another's pain,
the art of empathy forsaken,
errant paths so quickly taken;
thoughts are squandered, so are souls
who glorify malicious goals
and chase false dreams to sand consigned,
the facts misjudged and misaligned.

Cause and effect, the laws of nature,
whom to kill and whom to nurture,
whom to crucify or kiss?
the measures of our helplessness.
There is no try, there's only do,
and I expect the same of you,
to strip away dishonesty,
the trademark of our misery.

To live in love and purity
and nullify our enmity,
we join together, hand in hand,
no hurtful lies, no contraband.
The answer lies amongst the stars
unnumbered in the universe,
a child's first breath, the blushing rose,
where hatred cannot interpose.

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2013

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Can you feel the raging storm approaching?
 Hear the ferocious winds scream, "It's true"?
 Can you see the coal black clouds descending,
 Concealing the bleeding Blood Moon from view?
 Do you smell the deadly stench of the eerie fog 
 Hovering, smothering,
 The petrified - blanketed in sobbing dew?
 Watch the writhing of the snake as he faces battle, 
 With The Savior of every believer, Gentile and Jew. 
 Do you weep as the blinding lightning strikes,
 And Babylon crumbles in ashes to the ground?
 Do you tremble as Heaven opens and Jesus steps forth.
 Bearing scars and that thorn studded crown? 
 Now comes vengeance in the slamming of the rains,
 As they create craters for Lucifer and his crew.
 No longer on earth to reign again.
 The wolves in sheep's clothes unmasked for all to view.
 From the eye of the Lamb tongues of flames land,
 Consuming the perverted, saving God's faithful and true.
 As fiery Hell breaks out, brutal evil is damned,
 Satan has met his Waterloo.
 The pure in heart redeemed forevermore.
 Trumpets sound, angels sing praises to the King,
 Death to Babylon, the great whore.
 Who desired to wear the bridegrooms ring.
 Lucifer, the serpent. in Hell is forever bound.
 For he proved rotten to the core.
 With a mind of a lunatic,a lascivious Hell Hound.
 Jealous of the robe of righteousness Jesus wore.
 Earth was warned but chose not to obey.
 At Jesus' feet they wait and weep,
 This is their Judgement Day.
 Unbelievers called it conspiracy,
 Assuming the truth was just folklore.
 Lusting after wealth, and power, they reaped
 Damnation and shame,
 They mocked the Lamb, refused His Salvation Plan,
 And have only themselves to blame.
 Engaging in filth unspeakable they scorned the Holy One,
 Frolicking in their abomination,
 Now hear Jesus shout, "It Is Done".
 And it was foretold long ago if one would turn from iniquity.
 They would be saved, avoid the scorching grave.
 Still they pursued what to God was Blasphemy.
 The truth Evangelists told brave and bold,
 It was foolishness to their ear,
 Now they suffer forever awake in the dark lake, 
 Of the fire, condemned for all the wickedness they held dear.
 Jesus, has always been the Alpha and Omega 
 The beginning and the end,
 The Faithful and True, the King of Kings , The Lord of Lords,
 And all were warned time and time again.
 Inspirations by Joan May Donnelly Ellis March 4 2016


Copyright © Joan Donnelly Ellis | Year Posted 2016

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Installed in cargo pockets,
A vivid-glass, a little green bag,
A pod, silverplatted case,
Which Guca-hides, Pallmalls, and a bic.

You're barfoot in tombstones.
You're father, son vulture slumped,
You befor etched letters on rock.

"Him", a glutton of Karma,
Rein ended, your fourteenth year,
Now, belly-heavy, smoking his brand.
On a Drive-by, visit home.

You're showing Gene shooter,
You're an arsenic lane of skin,
You tremble-digits, in belt loops.

A trailer in time,
Secluded woods, with pine scent,
Anger stranded from earshot,
Hand-fead, his hate's red attic.

Father giant, yelling lasting filth,
Son flesh  impersonal,
Dark-spotted, and tie-dyed,
From Basketball champ fists.


You retreated-rightly to martyr mirth,
You still look for his bold heading,
Still Questing for embrace.


Pulling tube and ziplock from Cargo,
Following in bone-bared footsteps,
You spark, away walking,
Keeping his Armageddon.

Copyright © Johnathon Souders | Year Posted 2009

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The throne of babylon is falling
their gold is melting  can you hear them bawling
fire is burning hot as hell
some can neither buy nor sell

the mark in their hand they do not dread
half of them have it in their head
the beast they worship is the evil one
his armies gather at armageddon

its all in the bible and shall come to pass
the world awaits the nuclear blast
the throne of babylon is falling
their skin is melting they keep on bawling

 Will they rue what they've sown, before this last reaping
tears drip from their souls as children lay weeping
His full wrath was poured out, the judgement had come
a new world was birthing, the mystery was done

Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2012

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Don't bide your time

In the blink of an eye the time passes so fast it flies by 
Define time 
Lives a ***** then you die 
Eye of the storm watches over my lifestyles fate
In dire straight bathing as the holy water washes over my tired face 
I sate thirst 
I taste black words emerge that I wanna say 
and they say I'm shot away 
First and second take pressing play checking the record again
Third I gotta change 
Forth, fifth, sixth day Armageddon
Getting too close to the edges better slow down ya fast progression of mad acts of mankind's expansion of minds 
Enhanced heights
Drawing a line's unintelligible in the advancement of time 
At the end of our time do we start again? 
Running the marathon man labyrinth 
Partaking in challenges 
Participant champion triumphs 
No standing on iron shoulders of arrogant giants
I'm the desert rat blazing a trail in my chariot of fire 
Call me Pisces Iscariot sia-mese dream
Twin town hide and seek 
Me, myself and I feature split minds spitefully 
My real self hides inside myself and screams blue murder 
From the tomb where my wounds tumor 
Terminal doom soon turns gloomier 
Duma key frenzied telepath terror streak
reeks havoc and brings sheer panic to every street 
Splashing ink on a blank canvas 
Painting the future with an exact accurate dooms day
In fact grab a seat at the master piece gallery of art of new fate 
As a new day dawns ya fates drawn 
Ya destiny's death till then you'll work just to pay for it 
I'm sleep walking with one foot in my grave scourging in flames and the pains more moreish than this draw that I crave
Mad thoughts on my brain scattered funny
I'm that ex druggy heard talking to my sex life in a language I actually haven't studied
Which way is up cus this ascension gets me spinning out twisting figure eights into eyes of the thickest clouds 
Brainstorm demon outcast from our modern lands 
Phantom of the opera mask 
Shock horror comic graph-ic novel 
Zombie slash monster mash 
Rapid action packed chapters
This mad dog's rabid 
Scattering the ashes and rise a hundred phoenix
Evoke the cross ghosts demons and summon the spirits of lost souls 
I'm like a poltergeist with a cross bow with poisonous bolts
I'll possess any joyous host 
Annoy me I'll destroy every toy ya own 
I enjoy walking through this void alone 

Copyright © Sam Perkins | Year Posted 2018

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Two Resurrections

There will be two resurrections
The first one is holy,
will it include you?
There will be two risings
     in the valley of dry bones
Which one will you awaken to?
The first resurrection
is reserved for only the saints
They are God’s adopted children,
     His elect, chosen family
Rewarded for their obedience in this life,
they served God faithfully
Born again,
possessing eternal breath
They need not fear the second death
Immortality is their true nature indeed
There will be a new heaven and new earth
Time will not exist anymore,
     a thousand years will be like a day
Grace and mercy are the saints’ godly inheritance,
a double blessing that can never be taken away
Thus, they give to God always eternal praise
But woe, woe, woe ...
     curse be unto those
who take part in the second resurrection
God will raise up the wicked again
to prove once and for all 
     this immutable, holy truth:
The wicked will always do wickedly,
they won’t ever change
Put them in the peaceful land of the righteous,
and they will lust to do evil once again
They will want to revive war, death and sin
The first resurrection is a day of celebration,
     all the saints gathered around their God
After the day of the Lord comes to an end,
those thousand years of joyous festivities — 
God removes the gravestones,
     so the wicked can live once again
Recreate paradise ... to see if they 
will listen to the Serpent in the Garden
This second resurrection, it doesn’t end well:
Satan is released from his prison cell
Then he seduces the wicked, 
casting them again under his devilish spell
Mustering an evil army,
     they come to the camp of the saints
They come to take a spoil,
to steal and kill like they did once before
But the wrath of God is unleashed ...
Raining fire and brimstone down,
     forming a fiery lake
A soul devouring pit
All the wicked get tossed in ...
this is their chosen fate
God gave the wicked second breath,
but they chose to die this second death
Such is the mercy and justice of God
Two resurrections:
one above ... one below
The first are given eternal life,
the second receive the brimstone gallows
Terminating the final good versus evil battle
Two resurrections:
one above ... one below
Which one will you be in,
     is something only God will know
So strive to be in the one above
The first one, a pageantry of pure love,
God showing His precious children
what was always the intended eternal way
The second one, a strange morality replay ...
the birth and death of the wicked,
beginning and ending, all on the same day  

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017

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Ur Angel of Sadness

I once was your Armageddon, your mystic legend
Times we argued, realized it was foolish and grinned
Times we laughed, time is a luxury we do not have
Let us old hands old man
The lady beside you, she sang a beautiful tune 
The things we don’t want to lose 
The loved ones we hate, similar to the above sons mate
The people we want to please 
Those we set a perfect yet fragile image
Only to be later ceased
Precious moments we so desperately want to keep 
Shh! You speak as though you’re never coming back
But I will not return, best wishes, Ur angel of sadness
I’m a survivor
I work miracles, I was yours
I was everything and nothing anyone would care for 
I am still your Armageddon, your mystic legend
My objectives to make you laugh, smile, and mourn
Your rapture, warriors of eternity, a child lost and torn
Mission suffered massive failure 
Let us hold hands this final hour
For your misery is ours
You can say you loved him
You can say you placed no other above him
Despite how it sounds
The individual will everyone around him
Is the loneliest person around
In memory of those whom titled him “Angel of Sadness”

Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2007

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Warrior Poets

We warrior poets
calligraphy ride boldly into the foggy fray
Our ancient, iron-will pens
are always getting battle-tested
time and time again     by cloudy blot resistance
We always rolled scroll win ... 
writing off into the sky conquering send

We’ve spilled much scarlet ink
onto fertile, crimson-stained ground
Our scythe labor declare,
that no scribe sheaf need ever bow down
These flame tempered, double-edged sharp words
have made oppression lovers nether sink
Back to the primordial soup,
wherein their reptilian eyes swamp slink

With pure guileless thrusts,
our Valerian steel-tipped ink voices
have cast many free-thought haters down
And the slaves of conformity
are liberated
from their fettered mental fate ... unbound

Us warrior poets
fearlessly ink stride upon the solar wind
Our futuristic, dilithium crystal pens
are ever ready to be Armageddon-tested
in the afterlife ... at farpoint last battle’s end
Upon New Genesis ground,
we will cherubic wing write quickly to defend

As for To-day, 
we warrior poets,
undauntedly, cross word swords
Keeping the slave-speak enemies 
at pyramid bay
Thus on quill wings, we swiftly rise    triumphantly
ever so high
Cosmic muse elevation ...
from Sol  to  Alpha Centauri,
we Icarus fly

Melting the wax in people ears,
their moist, inarticulate fears

A righteous, quantum flight — 
Thoughts beamed 
on a write parchment pioneer path,
moving thru void opinions

Mind-meld, photon wave riders
be we warrior poet FTL fighters
Ruminating Silver Surfers
purple heart traveling star to star
And each diamond-fought message mission,
truthfully, gets less harder

Delivering golden galactic ink seeds,
we peacefully received freely
Transporting those who sagely seek 
safe passage understanding,
thru the soul innervision portal

The continuum wisdom ripples
of our space-time trail contraction
goes much curvature further — 
Spoken ink echoes in silent action

With porcupine stings, we bleed    valiantly
our ire cause in the light
Know no black hole trepidation ... 
from Arcturus  to  Orion  to  Pleiades,
we jawbone Samson fight

Poet warriors forever,
we lift our glittering scimitar pens
to the darkened sky
Knowing that a knight’s cursive death
will bring about a bright dawning epiphany cry

O my kindred spirit warrior poets — 
So unafraid to die
for the right ... 
always the grail write, 
to express love of life

* FTL is an acronym, 
   whose designated meaning is
   Faster Than Light

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018

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Prophecy's Peril

Armageddon approaches as
Charismatic characters'
Enlarges evil's
Grown too
Huge horror of
Jewish and Christian
Menacing multiple
Onto an ancient
Prophecy as
Quieter heads
Seeking solutions are
Upon by
Vituperate voices
Wailing war who wait
Xpectantly for
Zealots to enflame the world.

Copyright © Sue Mason | Year Posted 2007

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These Are The Days


These are the days of turmoil and sorrow
Days that mirror Sodom and Gomorrah
Days where our country is engaged in war
Days that God must certainly abhor

Days where children senselessly kill
Schoolmates and teachers just for a thrill
These are the days where drug lords rule
Where justice is spurned and played the fool

Murder and mayhem are a way of life
Creating fear and causing great strife
These are the days where justice is blind
Days that may soon be the fall of mankind

These are the days that many are dreading
Days that may soon become Armageddon
These are the days that are beginning to look
Like those described in Revelation's book

These are the days of misfortune for man
Days that are difficult to understand
But every knee shall bow and every tongue confess
That Jesus is Lord and He will end all stress

He will separate the goats from the sheep
There will be great sorrow and gnashing of teeth
Christ is the Truth, the Life, and the Way
To escape the torment of 'these are the days'

31 May 2018
For the contest sponsored by Daniel Turner

Copyright © Curtis Moorman | Year Posted 2018

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The Arc of Time

 to disguise,
from stranger eyes
than the ones who see you now
tip your hat and take a bow.
you have fooled the greater masses
with your cape and opera glasses,
I ,
know your name,
and the source of all your fame
Great Magician,
hocus pocus,
try to keep your world in focus,
you have found us through the ages
wielding warlocks and their sages
you desire to see the ending
of the arc of time you're bending,
fades to black
you face the ending of the track,
come now 
your disguise,
can't hide the darkness
in your eyes,
angels tremble in suspense
to watch the last of grand events
the stage is set,
the players rise,
the Dragon faces
his demise
and you must face 
your own disaster
if satan truly is your master.

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2006

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Well, it's nice to finally meet you.
I've been waiting for your call.
I've noticed you've been crying,
And, I've watched you pace the halls.

Whatever has been hurting you,
I can make it disappear.
You know you have nothing to lose, 
Nothing to live for, nothing to fear.

Thank you, for your invitation.
I'll be sure not to leave your side.
We'll become very fast acquainted.
My naive child, there's no use trying to hide.

I should probably introduce myself.
I am your very own addiction.
But, you can not be angry with me.
I am your own self-conviction.

I bet you feel rather stupid,
Falling right into my lap.
I'm a master at manipulation.
You'll never escape my trap.

How does it feel to dance with the Devil?
For he and I are one in the same.
Your God has abandoned you,
So, you might as well stay in the game.

Are you honestly going to try and beat me?
A useless battle if you want to know.
Go ahead and make an attempt.
Besides, I'm in the mood for a good show.

I guess, you think your special.
But, your sobriety is less than a year.
I'm still around every corner,
In the back of your mind
I'm your greatest fear.

I'll always be your dirty little secret.
I won't disappear over time.
Twenty years from now you may falter,
And, I'll be the first thing that comes to mind.

A vicious cycle, that's what your thinking,
But, I'm only speaking the truth.
I'm Satin's weapon of mass destruction.
The silent killer of America's youth.

It's genius when you think of it.
Everyone's looking for some Armageddon war.
But, what the fools don't realize,
Is everyday Armageddon walks through their front door

Copyright © Odette Perez | Year Posted 2018

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Hippocampus saddled in the vast sea, one of God’s superimposed dreams.
In miniature form these seahorses be, an aquatic burst of genius it seems.

Hippocampus in old Flossie form, spotted from the Scottish shores.
A frightful nightmare, not the norm, thus shiver in my corporeal core.

If mermaids had thighs to tighten around their bony scales,
would that they be fight’n where the shipshape sailor fails.

Seducing sirens hiss upon the sea monster’s back with songs that rage
to lead in armageddon attack, to place mankind in a flaming cage.

Julia Ward’s Seahorses

Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2018

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Hearing distant cries, Hope you hear my demise The deceased fight a battle, recognize Armageddon heven began to rise, Evil had no disguise, Man idolize the warning of the wise About the valley of the beast, Where the red moon set east And 360 degrees of brutal murder-ies All in horror, torture, scorcher at least Rebuked and punished for peace Murdered by the beast and the deceased The living were in mad pain, Making labour pain feels like a migraine. Seeing Sadam Hussein, Beating himself with a thorned cane; Limbless Hitler crying: “Putain! Putain!” ‘Cause the pain is insane, More chaos came: The Holocaust Campaign Felt thunder in rain; saw lighting in flame, Murdered the lame brain as a laughter reign Of man three numbers meant his name. Who’s to blame? J.C. didn’t die in vain but man lost his fame For His sins, felt the shame, My mind’s slain, In picturing, I can’t contain but complain That if I were you … I’d start prayin’

Copyright © siza sibiya | Year Posted 2013

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She Cries

She Cries
Cynthia Garcia

Wet Cold tears begin to flood her eyes
Only a blink away from showing her soul
Only a blink away from showing her mine
I don’t know what to do

My chest tightens with overwhelming uncertainty 
This feeling this stranger to my will corrupts my strength
I steer my emotions like driving on ice
I don’t know what to do

Alien emotions synchronized pride
A battle between my heart and my mind 
This thing this wet rip tide 
It spins a web somewhere inside
I don’t know what to do

Yes I love you too
I’m sorry I get stuck
When I see you cry
This isn’t what I do

I killed this vessel a thousand days ago to stay alive 
I had to 
she speaks a language I cannot understand 
A sacred tongue I once knew 
When she starts sweating hearts blood onto her face
I clam I tuck my tail and run 
I don’t know what to do

Some call it demons grip I call it strength
This feeling I cant run from wont stop chasing
She says it makes her stay
She calls it love and cries anyway
Bats her eyes and lets them fall 
Like  Heavens stars in nights’ Armageddon 
She calls it love and cries anyway 
I don’t know what to do
Yes I love you too.

Why do we bleed so much in vein 

Copyright © Cynthia Garcia | Year Posted 2014

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Self Wealth Deficit

Wealth of two masters… `Tis an amazing thing One mysteriously an illusion… Of the mind one is serpent Though by the essence of the dove… And by the power of love That the soul of love In the power of the dove… Sows by the serpent of strife The armageddon in life In a strait betwixt twain Fearful to depart Foolish to remain… Remaining vain begets the twain Illusions that are unstable Pretending to be life Borrowing from Able Giving Cain his knife Living below heaven’s glow Spreading the dog show borrowing from Dove… True wealth of Love… Deficit pretends that China… Is from above Illusions shall wane Reality shall remain Deficit illusions vain `Tis faith of a kind… True wealth of a Master mind… True particles of heavenly Adamantine ================================== “No man can serve two masters” “Mysterious Iniquity works self deficit” (Matt. 6:24) (II Thes. 2:7 KJV) Selah

Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2011