Best Bombs Poems


Premium Member The Making of a Genocide

The world was silent as they died
The victims of a genocide
Armenian blood considered cheap
Dehumanized, their wounds cut deep
Starvation in a desert land
A naked, bleeding, hopeless band
The relocation just a ruse
A Death March of rampant abuse

Few decades later, Hitler said,
“Forgotten are Armenian dead.
Perhaps I too can do the same,
for who remembers them by name?
I’ll kill the Jews, yes, every one!
The world can’t stop me till I’m done!”
Another genocide took place
For Jews, no favor, mercy, grace.
These horrors haunt humanity
But who can stop insanity?

Now Jews are on the killing side
They claim it’s not a genocide
Poor Gaza has no wailing wall
the bomb blasts made the strongest fall,
and wailing’s heard on ravaged streets
where children lie in bloodied sheets
From rubble rises stifled cries
a mother dies with open eyes
her arms still clutching baby tight
while blasts light up the Gazan night.
A father faints beside the grave
of children whom he could not save
And those who manage to survive
Must fight for food to stay alive
Though Israel forgot its past,
the truth of what they’ve done will last.

The word they use? Retaliate!
The proper word? Annihilate!
Get rid of every single one
The work of vengeance must be done
A freedom fighter? Terrorist?
The slaughtered ones can’t answer this.
Instead of useless rhetoric
Protect the dying, wounded, sick
Wake up and stop this savagery
Please do it for humanity!

No matter what my choice of word,
I grieve for those who died, unheard
I groan with shame for what I see
The death of human dignity

To you who did not raise you voice,
Who claimed you really had no choice,
one day the genocide will be
of loved ones in your family
Before you go down to the grave
Cry out for someone’s help to save
But silence will reverberate
For lesson learned was learned too late
When your life bleeds out on the ground
The world will watch without a sound.

Eileen Manassian Ghali

One Thousand and One Bombs On Baghdad

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.

War on happiness

Cries of humanity
Cries of war
War that kills
War imposed upon kids 
Kids as pure as a Mother’s love
Kids with million dreams
Dreams that are shattered 
Dreams destroyed by weapons 
Weapons unleashed on living beings 
Weapons that spare not even trees
Trees that make the air clean
Trees look pleasing to the eyes
Eyes which are blinded
Eyes that can’t see the plight 
Plight that is very alarming 
Plight of Earth’s humans
Humans were meant to be kind
Humans should've cultivated love
Love that looks but just a word
Love is leaving this cruel world
World witnessed many massacres
World but kept producing bombs
Bombs snatched kids from moms
Bombs even burnt butterflies' wings 
Wings gained by the little kids’ souls
Wings carrying them to the God
God is there to hear their complaints 
God shall ease their pains
Pains are being Inflicted even on animals 
Pains are what the Earth now feels
Feel the ache of the oppressed 
Feel these problems in your heart
Heart always deep down knows 
Heart always craves peace 
Peace only should rule the Earth
Peace like the words of grand-mothers
Mothers never have to cry
Mothers should always smile
Smile that men deserve too
Smile can only be brought by justice 
Justice is crucial for survival 
Justice can eradicate occupation
Occupation is a barbaric act
Occupation must end
End of the Earth is drawing near
End should not bring happiness 
Happiness is all we need
Happiness brings peace
Peace... 
Need... 



_______________________________________


Paghunda Zahid


Premium Member Hiding Under My 3rd Grade Desk

Hiding Under My 3rd Grade Desk
David J Walker 

Mrs. Pollards smile 
Was enough to reassure every member
Of her third-grade class 

That their world was secure 
As the crass voice in the 
Crackling PA speaker announced 

An End of the World Drill in the
Middle of the day

Usually, a call to quietly line up 
And make an orderly march to 
The hallway where we would 

Stay crouched in a fetal position 
Until the voice returned to sound
The all-clear

But this time was different
This time it was 
Duck & Cover under your desk
	Was the end really that near?

Were the bombs about to fall
On Thatcher Elementary in
Pueblo, Colorado?

Did the commies hate us so much 
They would rain down missiles 
On our playground?

Not today! 
	Not when It was my turn
To pick sides for Kickball
A girl named Diane with blonde curls
Beside me talk about a sack lunch

And tetherball
And a game of Jax if the 
Hopscotch courts were full

Would the bombs blast the whole
Building away 
Leaving us huddled under our desks
Before recess?

Would we walk home among craters
Created by Commie planes coming

Over the artic just to find us while
Reciting the rhythm 
Of the Times table

The Social Studies lesson was
About the Pilgrims and how we 
Should be thankful for freedom 

In science we were learning 
About the moon and how soon
Someday we would get there

If they drop the bomb could we 
Still watch cartoons at 4 in the afternoon

Would there be anything left of the
Playground at Mineral Palace Park

And what about the swans that
Make their home on the park lake

How long are we supposed to 
Stay under these desks I whispered
To Mark 

I don’t know he said
As Mrs. Pollard shushed us 

As we hid and waited for
The all-clear

Premium Member One More Day

One more day I slept serene,
while some where distant bombs
and screams awaken others from their dreams..
One more day I quenched my thirst
while others trapped and feared the worst,
living out war's curse.
One more day I tidied, swept, while elsewhere
children died, mothers wept,
cried in anguish, so bereft..
One more day my skies were blue.
I ventured out with things to do,
while others watched their world unglue.

tear lights

 

for every bomb dropped, a thousand stars cry tear lights ~ for reblooming earth


_______________________
Sponsor : Tania Kitchin : Standard Contest
Contest : Monoku : PLACING: SECOND 
8.1.26


Premium Member ai Bombs

Written and posted by
a real poet, no ai clone -- 
wary of erroneous people,
fake voices on my digital 
phone – fear I may be one of 
the few yet writing poetry alone
without the help of 
some ai, futuristic drone
letting fall synthetic hits
and misses – parrot 
droppings all the same,
really, ai poetry quite morally
lame.

Bombs

Bombs drop
Children die
Why?

Premium Member - Haiku X 13- Boston Bombs -

One lovely ballerina
                                            The bombings slammed
                                                No more dancing






28.04.2013
A-L  Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Bombs Away

Once was robin-bird
Acted quite absurd
Bombed friend once; did it twice
Gall to even mark her thrice!
Don't care to explain what heard!

Premium Member Bombs Away

Though fully dressed for a wedding
I could not resist the buffet,
Fine lipstick wore off for a refill
Of dessert from a laden tray.

Soon, full tummy began to roll
Up, down like the hall’s throbbing light
My rear needed to drop a bomb;
Restraining the urge,’ not tonight!’

As bridesmaid, I pulled the doves’ cage
While they zoomed off, my eyes sensed it
Before rushing to the girl’s loo,
My gown streaked with birds’ deposit!



Everyone Poops Contest of Roy Jerden
7/30/2015

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4) And remember: 
    BOMBS DON'T KILL PEOPLE. PEOPLE KILL PEOPLE. 

- In memory of the La Vegas shooting victims –

Stop the Bombs

Stop the bombs,
The cities are eaten by napalm.
Stop the bombs
Keep calm and carry on

Stop the bombs,
We cant breathe
Stop the bombs
The military made us leave 

Save the homeless man 
Reading the psalms
Stop the bombs
No one to sing his song

Stop the bombs
Strife will be global
Stop the bombs
Fallen out like Chernobyl

Stop the bombs
We wanna see the sun
Lay down your knives and heavy guns
How many more bombs until there's none

Look up to the sky
See the dove fly
Hush the war drums
Maybe it will comfort some

Look up to the sky
Watch the dove fly
Branch in her beak
It is peace we seek.

Bombs

Bombs
Exploding violenty
On my brothers
Blood shed brings tears
Help!

Do You Hear the Bombs Going Off

Do you hear the bombs going off
in the distance, with no remorse of what they blow up?
Can you hear the cries of children
half burnt, sitting on shuttered streets?
the evacuation was a success,
all the rich and politicians gone
with their suitcases in their butler's hands
and maids trail along them with dust brooms,
and the poor sit fighting their wars they started.

Can you hear the German Junkers flying overhead?
They drop whistling bombs crashing upon roofs
of train stations and with an explosion of wind and fire
bring down concrete walls that were built by men with courage.
The heat of the scorching sun burns my skin
as I hold my stomach that was shattered with a bullet
from a soldier's gun.
A knife wound that cuts deep down into my veins
and blood spills out.

Did you see the rebels walking through the streets,
holding their loved ones in one hand and their family in the other?
These men aren't soldiers, they're farmers
who have families, born not to kill, but born to prosper.
I am saddened to see my home burned down.
I am saddened when I see my childhood burned up
with an exploding bomb that drops from a thousand feet
high in the sky.
A tear shed for every soul that fights for freedom
and for life to prosper as one.

Now I walk on a stone bridge that once used to carry people across,
now to carry soldiers and tanks and bombs across the river filled with blood.
My heart it is sad, yet all I see is red and anger boils my blood.
I seen a flood of emotion tare my country apart.
Now I hear a burst of machine guns in the courtyards
of University streets, once filled with young students,
now those students with rifle in hand, fighting for freedom.
I hold my breath and clench my head between my legs,
till I hear an explosion from the bombs going off in the distance.
Over the yellow mountains that cry with sorrow,
I see the soldiers run away in pain and follow
with their tails between their legs.
And I let out a cry of reason and say, "Why!?"

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