Best Blasting Poems
"I only wish that ordinary people had an unlimited capacity
for doing harm; then they might have an unlimited power
for doing good."--Socrates
BLASTING OFF
What if human beings
Were not broken sinners
But the resilience of life
Creating long-term winners
Sitting on the launch pad
Engines primed and ready
Blast off is a go!!!
Lifting off and climbing steady
Floating above the blue
A world of imperialism
Masses in a learning curve
Amidst a goal-setting schism
No government ever to blame
For even a single atrocity
But an adolescent species
Shirking its responsibility
Yet growth being inevitable
Stunned by its very speed
Now we're getting so big!
And such amazing dreams
From rolling in the mud
And outgrowing that fun
Until we stop pointing fingers
And we glow like the sun
[I am proposing the idea that no government has ever
been responsible for anything. Perhaps we sentient
human beings hold all power yet are too reluctant to try
to understand exactly who we are. Thus, perhaps we
prefer bad governments and blame over .......... well,
what would it mean to face ourselves without distractions
to mask the pain?]
Note: I hope this write doesn't make anyone angry. I
know that mention of the word government ignites
passions.
I love the wind
Blowing softly against my face,
Fanning it on a hot Summer’s day,
Stirring my hair;
Making the branches and leaves quiver
And the grasses to dance and sway,
And all the while
Whispering a soothing melody
If one but listens intently.
I hate the wind
Roaring violently,
Making the branches and leaves fall,
Bending the grasses till they break,
Whipping the dust around
That stings the eyes,
Finding its way through nooks and crannies,
And whistling an eerie tune
Auguring a storm.
I’m scared of the wind
Blasting at everything in its path,
Causing whole trees to tumble,
And flattening grass, blossoms, and all;
Generating huge waves
That claw their way to shore;
Crumpling poles, posts, and walls,
Howling and shrieking like a banshee,
And snatching the life of the unwary.
April 23, 2023
Among 1st Place
Writing Challenge - ‘W’ Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
“Prairie Storm”
The air turned
Deadly still,
The trees no
Longer swayed,
The horses neighed,
The church bells rang
Rabbits ran
For their caves.
Old men rushed
To close their doors.
Storm on the Rise!
Storm on the Rise!
Twister but a mile!
Be here in a while!
Hurry, grab the kids
To the cellar quick.
We haven’t the time
To worry.
It’s coming with a fury
The clouds grew deadly black
As deadly black can get.
Whipping and churning,
Rumbling and growling,
Twisting and swirling,
A tail was coming
With a vengeance it came:
Bolting and striking,
Snapping and crackling,
Exploding and blasting,
The tail kept churning.
The roof from the
Barn was thrown.
The windows in the
House were blown.
The trees ripped
From their roots.
The horses ran.
The rain
Came pounding.
The hail
Came battering.
The wheat field
Turned to straw.
Up from the cellar
The family rose.
The mother poured tears.
The father fell to his knees.
The little ones clung
To mother’s skirt.
There was little left.
His dreams disappeared.
The neighbors
Came calling.
The storm unkind.
He lost his mind.
The church bells rang.
dipping sparkling light
threatening with blasting voice
throws liquid shrapnel
Ashes afterlife, another elliptical ride behind the climb,
A course of strife, cursed by the past forward in time.
The wanderer of worlds step beside the tracks onto paths laid over tombs,
Malevolent, malformed, misconstrued by literature, words consumed.
Daylight is not bright, it's more like night with out the empty space,
Moon bright is more likely to shroud facial features cast still in their place.
Grounded in roots ashes afterlife, another elliptical ride behind the climb,
A course of strife, cursed by the past forward in time.
The wanderer of worlds step beside the tracks onto paths laid over tombs,
Malevolent, malformed, misconstrued by literature, words consumed.
Daylight is not bright, it's more like night without the empty space,
Moon bright is more likely to shroud facial features cast still in place.
Grounded in roots, symmetry decimates everything in chaos and torment,
Annihilated by thee elder ancient that awaken and no longer dormant.
I still hate your face as well as your ways,
As before and afterwards, eternal and always.
You disgusting being, I daydream you misery. decimates everything in chaos and torment..
A crash of thunder
accompanies the lightning
above the mountain.