Best Blown Up Poems
Mara- Collateral damage
Hi, my name is Mara, I'm six years old, I have brown hair and brown eyes. People say I'm pretty like my mom, but, I don't know how that matters now.
My mom said she named me Mara because it means bitterness, my being born has only caused my family bitterness, as we are 4 children, in a war torn land. I am a girl and no one wants a girl, unless they are useful in some way.
My father escaped the war, and fled to America, he says to find us a better life. I don't understand how leaving us here would give us a better life! It's so dangerous here for woman, and even girls like me.
The only men we see are soldiers, or freedom fighters. My three brothers Ahmed 13, Sammir 12, Nicolo 11, went to get food at the market last week, they were looking for huma...humana....humani..tar i an relief. They were all killed when a bomb went off. I miss them a lot! No relief for me, I haven't eaten for a week.
I would love to go to school but all the schools are closed, most of the buildings are blown up, so I don't think I will go to school anyway.
My Mom left yesterday to play with the soldiers, she told me if you play with the soldiers they will give you food. I'm so hungry!!
Rat atat atat ata atatt knock knock knock open up, open up this door!!! Mom? I'm so glad your back! (opens door)
hey your not my mom!
Rat atat atat.
(Voice from behind) hey there's nobody here!! Let's go, lets go!
My name is Mara, I was 6 years old, now I'm dead. I guess I'm what they call collateral damage!
John Derek Hamilton
July 11,2017
First place premium contest winner
but who cares about a win really in this case.
Categories:
blown up, character, courage, freedom, girl,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
she leans back and points bare toes at clouds
chains creak their rhythmic squeak, hypnotic loud
taken aback, her hair sails slipstream flung
downstream freedom for a moment hung
in mid-air - earth's force gives up its grip
hands sweat, hold tight, they cannot slip...
underneath, grave ground drops and falls away
above, a fraction weightless, she holds sway
swing's song suckle drugs her hungry mind
lids close, sun glows infrared behind
pushed ahead, prow barges coldest breeze -
heady heights drop back to life's sleeze- tease
whistle warns soft shots across neck's nape -
a tug towards untimely no escape
pendulum head, concave waver rocks it
self gives way to backbone's growing grit
back or forth, the dipper croons reprieves unbought
no more a cradle - ladle, once more sought
after - alter course - alter - falter, first
of all, go back, bold, and slake high spirit's thirst
looming dark dips her fears in far off stars'
molten matter - fired white hot globes unbar
eternal flames, external spin as atoms swim
in ether - her thoughts burn bright just for Him
now's the time, now's the place, blown up sky high -
now's the time to kiss the shattered sky.
5th March 2019
Aqua Marine.
"Righteousness and Peace - they have kissed each other. " ( the connection of the two will be as evident to all as is the close association of affectionate friends...) Figuratively, a kiss could represent a demonstration of respect and devotion, and often served as a token of affection.
Categories:
blown up, growth, introspection, life, motivation,
Form:
Rhyme
Connecting with nature
Walking along I find peace…
Autumn leaves surround me
Crunching rhythms at my feet
I Step inside harmony ~
Brown leaves start swirling
A Tiny tornado forming
Admiringly…I stand glowing…
A mighty wind blows off my hat
Quickly…I wonder …what was that?
As I hold onto my head
It blows away end over end
Nature playing games instead
My gracious hat…ahead it blew
I ran after it fast and true~
Blown up against a Willow
Floppy hat blocked indeed
Tiny raindrops starting to fall
Cool drops kiss my cheek
Nature’s spirits forever speak ~
Categories:
blown up, imagination, life, nature, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
Death is but life and life is death, I wonder,
Where does the spirit go when it's released?
Many beliefs have a different thought,
The body is just breathing that has ceased.
We wonder how many years we have left,
We live them like there is no tomorrow,
We dance in sunshine and run from thunder,
Death is but life and life is death, I wonder.
Everyone has their own personal sins,
Hiding in a closet they built of fear,
All have free will to have them unleashed,
Where does this spirit go when it's released?
So many religions do not agree,
The true path to God is forever sought,
I choose to chase spirituality,
Many beliefs have a different thought.
We all have struggles way down deep inside,
With cracks and holes and roads that have now creased,
Believer, atheist, agnostic, all.
The body is just breathing that has ceased.
All you've done is done, no reason to cry,
There is much more as far as I can see,
Did you once try to help humanity?
Is this your blown up personality?
Death is but life.
Categories:
blown up, faithlife, body, life, ,
Form:
Rondeau Redouble
After Legend got blown up along with
all of the city zombies,
I was now the sole survivor and sick and tired of
hiding out at Hobby Lobby,
bored of making necklaces, soaps and candles
and doll houses every single day,
I decided hunting countryside zombies should make
up a good part of my day,
deciding to lure all of them south to the Everglades,
that way the alligators down there could have a feeding frenzy day,
running down there as if I were a female Forrest Gump,
the zombies right behind me slowly catching up,
finally making it the edge of the great swamp,
I lured the zombies close by and heard my first chomp,
taking a risk with my ammonia and urine alligator repellant
sprayed all over me,
the alligators came out snatching and eating all the zombies
except for me,
thank God because it gave me time to flee,
desperately searching for a bathroom around the glades,
from drinking on my run down there way too much Gatorade.
10-30-16
Categories:
blown up, adventure, humor, murder,
Form:
Light Verse
A clear blue day in the mountains to see
The sun shines through the cold air, all around
Hills of white snow blown up against each tree
The air is refreshing, the sun cheery
Each distant mountain top is wearing a crown
A clear blue day in the mountains to see
A shear of white clouds move on by quietly
It’s like the trailing of a satin gown
Hills of white snow blown up against each tree
With the skies wide open, it feels so free
It is all peaceful in this country town
A clear blue day in the mountains to see
It would be nice to have you here with me
Viewing the sights of this snow covered ground
Hills of white snow blown up against each tree
The beauty of winter can bring such glee
The calmness of nature without a sound
A clear blue day in the mountains to see
Hills of white snow blown up against each tree
Heidi Sands
2/1/19
Categories:
blown up, beautiful, day, peace, winter,
Form:
Villanelle
Filled up with quips like a clanking balloon
blown up with coins not with air
Clittering, clatter on golden paved streets
his winsome words, plenty to share
Brilliant performance, he's taking his bow
on a bed of burnt peacock feathers
The skycap he wears filled with holes and with tears
has protected him well from the weather
The crowd gangly gathers with popcorn and fruit
with the wish and the will just to laugh
He juggles emotions with unending devotion
and doubles his jokes up by half
By the end of the night the whole room is alight
with marshmallow bellies still shaking
From the butt of all jokes to a friend of all folks
he's a super star right in the making...
Categories:
blown up, art, happiness, people,
Form:
Quatrain
A Mother's Prayer
I kneel in front of the alter praying the rosary to keep my sons protected while they’re serving their country to keep us safe.
As the Persian Gulf War drew to a close, Saddam Hussein ordered six hundred wells to be blown up and set on fire that burned for seven months so no one would benefit from its riches. In the meantime while the Navy ships were in close fighting providing navel gun support, the men were inhaling the smoke of the Kuwaiti oil fields fires. Livestock and other animals perished from the oily, mist.
down on bended knee
for strength and serenity
suffering heart prays
© By 11/12/2014
Categories:
blown up, mother, prayer, son, war,
Form:
Haibun
There was once an inflatable school
With a blown up boy as a fool
Then one day he came in
With a packet of pins
This ass was more like a mule
Around the playground he simply deflated
His bad antics left him elated
The headmaster had seen
This blown up boy being so mean
His anger was so underrated
To the headmasters room he was called
Knowing well he's in for a fall
You have let everybody down
Balloon boy your a clown
Disgusted, I'm darned well appalled
* This is based on the joke at the end of a programme called the *
~ Vicar of Dibley ~
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-4.php
Categories:
blown up, funny
Form:
Limerick
Poetic License
Pure Frustration
If I could not
Kiss you with my sonnets
Explain you symbolically
Or say “I love you”
In metaphorical ambiguities
Like Braille, I’ve felt tipped over you
With my flair
For words
My paper is kodachrome canvas
And in a split second thought
I’ve blown up a verbose
Enlargement of your essence
Blessed am I
Above all lonely women in love
I can illuminate with alliteration
And say
Marvelous, money hungry, miserly, macho man
You’re missing
I can, at anytime
Anyplace
Make out in meters
And when it comes to it
Write down, whatever
Fast, faster, fastest, forever
And sleep.
2/20/16
This was my first poem on PS. It was written in 1976 and revised prior to submission. I was young, in love and wrote free verse much more then but now I feel the need to rhyme everything in a sense of completeness.
Categories:
blown up, analogy, boyfriend, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
desperate times leads to desperate measures wth whom do you treasure
we mix words in the street still trying to repeat moving ahead to the walking dead
a canopy of dreams inside of me together you will see a whole of of brevity
he ain't heavy he's my brother cruising down the avenue in full bloom
honking horns some may twist to curse the day they were actually born
wait your turn with the mic in my hand got one foot stuck in the frying pan
I'm working on my legacy come and sit next to me in my field of dreams
basketball superstar took his grill down to the mall now he stands ten feet tall
decisions we all make them friend we need all grow to depend got the hoop dreams
my ***** she be working at Dairy Queen to the extreme I rock the mic like a vandal
blowing up chops like Goldie Locks we drop a line or two nothing borrowed nothing blue
folks today don't have a clue they are stuck as glue wash your hands to avoid the flu
got fresh rhymes for 2018 got to keep it real paying all those bills with cheap thrills
Rap ain't like it used to last I check they was frying a rooster but who are they anyways
Depression is a disease will knock you to your knees stop spreading its disease
what are we willing to achieve we neglect all that hate call it fate but something runs deeper
we need folks like Barry White taking the mood higher blown up in fullest desire
some will fade out with a noose around their neck what the heck they neglect
getting stuck in the middle playing a game of second fiddle watch the dunk but neglect the dribble...
Categories:
blown up, analogy, animal, anxiety,
Form:
Free verse
you can't make your heart beat something it won't
it's either heaven or hell now I got a good story to tell
rap your rap well from the heart
this will light the inner spark to what I'm waiting for
someday's it maybe a chore
don't listen to critics cause most will bring you down
I mean they mean well if it's in the positive mode
positive reinforcement is good for the heart
rap as you dream of better days
never getting lost in a purple haze
look to the old school masters of the past
with hearts an opened door beating fast
be who you are on the inside
don't try to hide behind four walls that squeal
others may address this as being no big deal
yet there's only one life will soon be passed
only what's done out of love will last
people need to be more opened minded but their blinded
by Satan the god of this world
they twist your words to fit their fancy
gone are the days when Sid met Nancy
let the heavenly light be your guide instead we hide
shattered glass on the basement floor lest I implore
seek truth with all of your heart
then you will light the inner spark to what your waiting for
get in the zone watch a lot of Home Alone
busy as a bee rapping the rhyme as a blown up mystery
something up your sleeve people bleed
does death hurt you the most or is it fear
I shed a single tear to help numb its inner pain
still no one question anymore
no one has a voice were just the blind leading the blind
soon will fall into a great ditch feverish pitch
I'm only human after all
sin has been evident after the fall
then onto the no it all
rap to your hearts content & have a ball
Categories:
blown up, rap,
Form:
Free verse
Life as we know it makes no sense if we have no choice
So what is the alternative and do we have a voice ?
The world is spinning out of control with violence and death all around
And the Republican presidential candidate is a racist media hogging clown
Everything is off kilter and while I sit and contemplate
What is my alternative and what will be my fate?
How do I sing songs of joy when chaos is on the rise?
How do I survive a Babylonian society and keep my eyes on God's prize?
In the midst of perversity and immoral behavior
My only alternative is to stay connected to Jesus my Savior
When I see a white man kill nine African Americans in a church
And after arrested given a bullet proof vest
Yet when an ex-military black man kills five white cops
He's blown up I feel such unrest
Over the injustice and the inequality that is occurring every day
Over 123 black men killed this year what more is there to say
What is the alternative? What is it that we need to do?
What is the alternative? As a nation we need to seek truth
I don't condone Mr. Johnson's behavior
but I understand where he's coming from
Too many young unarmed black brothers
Killed by white police guns
So what is the alternative?
What as a nation do we realize?
That racism is alive and well and killing blacks is on the rise
What is the alternative?
How do we bring about true change?
It's time for white Americans to stop acting like we're deranged
We are Americans too my people have been here over 400 years
Yes we were once slaves but let me make this clear
We are no longer your property
We are no longer your chattel
Stop killing and slaughtering my people
Like they're mindless cattle
So what is the alternative?
It's time we all develop a true relationship with God
And hopefully be infused with a Christlike love
And true compassion in out hearts
THAT IS THE ALTERNATIVE
Categories:
blown up, america, black african american,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Zone
By Kieran Pavlick
26 October 2012
Stitch me back together,
whether it hurts me or not.
I still don’t know if I was
Blown up or shot.
The brain plays tricks,
maybe a bullet or
shrapnel from bricks.
I ain’t afraid of dyin’
I’m in a macho clique.
We expect the worst to happen.
Part of that is Rappin’ and
Some of it is Shtick.
You doin’ it with super glue?
How modern of you.
From assembling model airplanes,
To jigsaw puzzles, Dude
Technology took away stitches, so
I won’t look Frankenstein crude
Categories:
blown up, war, me,
Form:
Rhyme
I recall it was just the other day
Featured in the daily for which we pay
Your blown-up photo splashed across
The front page for all to gloss
Your background and your virtues extolled
For your wedding bells were soon to toll
With a king-in-waiting as the groom
You would wilt or you would bloom
For marriage makes or marriage breaks
And happiness, it gives or takes.
Demure and with dimpled smile
With an innocent heart, free of guile
The press was exuberant, so were we
You were the most charming in the royal family.
Welcomed all across the globe
The royal couple widely roved
Ambassadors of all things good
Displaying virtues like royalty would
You touched hearts wherever you went
Concern and compassion were your strength.
You were blessed in due course
With two sons that God had chose
Then differences with the prince surfaced
And you lost face, where you once graced
And while your marriage began to flounder
Your man, the prince continued to blunder
On the treacherous rocks of marital infidelity
You were shattered – your happiness was the casualty.
You decided to go your separate ways
Those were also the wishes of the palace
The trauma of separation was sheer hell
The ways of royalty were beginning to tell.
Now, hordes of newsmen invaded your privacy
In your land and beyond, you became a refugee
The air was also rife with rumours
Of liaisons and friendships and misdemeanours
Your saddest day though, was the divorce
Of you, whose touch was like the kiss of a rose.
And alone, sweet Princess, you forged along
Your grace, in adversity, inspired many a song
Of worthy causes, you were still a crusader
And you remained ever, a loving mother.
It is said, you had found love at last
And the leech like lensmen went wild with thirst
For photos which augment tabloid sales
They chased you in cars and astride motorcycles.
For you, a Parisian tunnel was the end of the road
You didn’t reap in life, what you had sowed
And while your life ebbed within the wreck
The paparazzi zoomed in, to make hay off the break
Your blood-spattered close-ups drove them to frenzy
As you lay helpless, unattended and in agony.
And later in the night, mercifully all was darkness
The world woke to a tragedy caused by sheer madness
Categories:
blown up, tribute,
Form:
Narrative