Best Nuclear Poems
We sat in the fallout
of last year’s gift exchange—
smashed angel centerpiece
taped back together
as good as a rogue bomb
if someone mentioned it.
Our voices dragged
like anchors through an ocean—
low, cold, summoning something
older than Kris Kringle.
I strained to recall
a time when it wasn’t like this.
The kitchen table—
a battleship, whipped tension
and potatoes. Dad’s knife slipped
once, then twice. Mammaw clutched
her rosary, counting sins like beads
of gravy on the drop-cloth. The whiskey
isn’t worth your soul, she whispered.
Our air was burned sugar—
a water pie, depression-era relic
left too long in the oven.
As they say, it’s the ingredients you have
that bake the cake.
Mom whispered, Let’s just get through it.
The corners of her mouth disappeared—
I knew better.
When my sister reached for a biscuit,
I grabbed her wrist—too hard.
Mine, I hissed. The room turned
quiet, the kind of silence snow wears
before an avalanche.
By sunset,
half of us were crying—
over the ruined pie,
or the family tree
we couldn’t stop cutting down.
When I reimagine it—
and I always do—
I don’t erase or the snowfall
or the tension.
Instead, I break the bread
without a flinch,
leave my sister’s wrist unmarked.
Dad’s carving hand steadies,
and in my version,
we get grandma drunk—
the old broad needed to lighten up.
The angel still shatters—
but this time we laugh,
our elbows knocking it over
reaching for seconds.
In the end, we huddle closer,
ash still falling, we celebrate
cold on the other side of the door.
Our hands stay sticky, glue healing
the angel’s cracked wings,
sugar crystallizing our fingerprints—
we press lightly, only to test for doneness,
we are patient,
we watch as snow smothers our wreckage—
call it DNA, an elegy.
She wears her soul on her nuclear skin
Brightest chartreuse yellow
morphs into roseate pink,
promising peace
she illumes from within her
There is only one of her,
yet is never alone
her golden rays cascade
warmth in cobalt skies
embracing as she dwells alongside
touching universes both eternal,
balanced with an external expression
in both realms reflection
overlooking the gallant mountain tops
gentle undulating waves,
fullness in emptiness
amongst Spring’s delicacies
a force of nurturing generosity
fostering spirit giving endlessly
championing her cause
She watches from behind
the highest hilltops,
below the erosion formed summits
Setting onto the lowlands
and forbidding foothills
as her changing light
transforms the ether
she gazes at the unfolding
of the stars, faint specs,
she is still, in their presence
as the blue evokes
his calm, she catches glimpses
shades of salmon trail faded ones,
they bring hopeful sonnets
May she let subdued
light shine upon her
blushing rays?
Perhaps one day,
whilst the night’s indigo sky
looks after her
I am the nuclear ,the unwanted power,
i pay you according to you care:
for how long have I served you?
Provided you the energy to carry on;
sometimes you even packaged me
and exchanged me for currency;
how many of your wars have i fought?
And when in my might you triumphed
didn't you simply answer superpower?
I am the power behind your wheel,
i keep many of your industries going,
i make your night bright like sunflower
even in your health i play my role.
But in your luxury you forget,
you just forget our agreement
and begin to neglect my care
asking me to go to hell;
you begin to push me to my enemy
as you exposed my nudity to whirlwind
and asked water to deal with me as it liked
you are like a louse that lives on hound,
that thinks he is killing the hound,
where will it live after the death of the hound?
you neglect my care, you expose yourself!
But you are master of propaganda:
for failing to play your role,
what name have you not called me?
You said I am a murderer,came out with statistics
of how many i had killed, you marked me unwanted
and went on streets to shout me down;
you are quick to talk of Fukushima;
man, man ,man,your deceit is legendary,
fire is good servant...now i understand the say.
Yes i know you art,
you know how to call things names,
when you fail at you duty,
you simply say mechanical error;
and when you don't understand people,
you simply call them primitive;
when you don't understand the misery of God,
you simply conclude he does not exist.
No, i am not afraid of your deceit
i am comfortable with who i am
you are the one looking for me
if you still want me,you are welcome,
if you don't want me again
God knows i will not ask for you.
There was an old chap from Toledo
Who took meds for his bad libido
One pill made him fast!
Two pills helped him last!
With three, he surpassed a torpedo !!
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You should know that I've
reinforced the bunker
I built around my heart
until it can withstand a
direct hit
ground zero
head-on collision
from a YOU-bomb.
I've shielded it to withstand
the worst Emotional Mutilation Potential
you can generate
and to protect me from
the flash burns of passion,
Not to mention that I've lined it with lead
to save me from the fallout
of your so-called love.
So-
hit me with your worst.
My bunker--and I-- are ready.
I see a Neon Lady,
green rain from the clouds.
Yet she is pure evil,
this engraved upon her crown.
Six hundred million people,
into dust on scorched ground.
I see a Neon Lady,
green rain from the clouds.
I see a Neon Man,
bad rain from the clouds.
He's draped in red linen,
his evil death shroud.
He stands with a sickle,
Raving madly out loud.
I see a Neon Man,
bad rain from the cloud's.
I see the Ukraine,
where Patriots are falling.
I see many nations,
are waiting or talking.
The Earth turmoils in flames,
While millions are squalling.
I feel winds of change,
And Hear Freedom Calling.
That was the last call.
Aunt Rosie and the kids have left.
They’re safe
The rest have been accounted for.
It’s just us now.
Is everybody ready?
I never really thought this day could come.
Preparations aside, it was just a compulsive
precaution. Our family, friends, will we
ever see them, talk to them again?
How could we have done this to ourselves?
Funny, the things I think of at a time like this.
I got tickets to a Springsteen concert next month.
Who cares now?
Six months ago, when I bought them, I still had some trust.
Trust in the world, in our leaders. None
of this makes sense.
Do the egos of two men matter?
I remember as a child the grade school,
duck and cover drill.
I remember the black and yellow shelter signs.
That was over fifty years ago.
Have we learned nothing?
Come on, let’s go. It’s a bit of a drive.
WHAT`S NUCLEAR WAR
OUT SOULS OF GODDES
LIKE VENUS AND APHRODITE
AND THE POOR HUMANE LIKE RICH AGAMEMNON
IN BLCK COMEDY
WARS LIKE SATANIC HELL TO HUMANITY ALL
YES BUT I NEED THIS WARS ??????????
WAEL MOREICHEH
our home grown monarch
shall swing open war's hell gate~
h r
s o
u o
m m
c l o u d s
i n
b l
o o m
—————
our great leveler
peace or annihilation
knocks heads together
hot air destroyer of worlds
some truths are not beautiful
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By
David Kavanagh
Kiss me when the sun sleeps
when the blazing sun doth rise,
hold my trepid skin timorous
with a requited reassurance
we’ve not been broken
of soulmate incarnate
ecstasy within our grasp
of this comes beautiful
hold me tight, my love
Nirvana’s desaturated shade, awaits
soft pink and warming gray, above
behind a burning turmeric glow
under an apocalyptic sky
brawn banished, lips silenced
after every word is spoken
sanctioned skeletal forms
melded are two mortalities
fusing into one metaphor
birth of man, woman, death infinite’s
earth, wind, fire, water embossed
no diener for dystopia
only death lives in destruction
crimson deserts recreated
ashen corpse servant
no hand his bones shall fall
sealed is our eternal love
our homeland a morgue
ossified cartilage caresses
immortalization in
pulverized sand dunes
touched by the flurries
of vaporized gold dust clusters
opportune eyes fell upon
excavating earth organs ripped open
evil befell the resilient relentless
by all that glittered gold
golden buried stones
by the arid drones
our existence erased
no genogram depiction,
not relevant to treatment
ashen of undying souls
are there more lives,
…what do you think?
The sillies are popping up thick and fast
Hard to keep up, my archives are vast
My eyes are crossed
From my bum there's exhaust
Really kinda worried bout a nuclear blast
© Jack Ellison 2015
Nuclear Waste
Last night
I woke up from my sleep
From a dream ,
a dream that made me weep
I stood alone
With nowhere to turn
Cause they had burnt it
All to the ground
The land was waste
Houses were down
There was no one
Left in my favourite town
I stood alone
With nowhere to turn
Cause they had burn it
All to the ground
My friends were gone,
My family dust
The cars,the trucks
Were fragmented dust
I stood alone
With nowhere to turn
Cause they had burn it
All to the ground
I then awake
Arrested my fear
When I felt the warmth
of my flowing tear
I was not alone
I had somewhere to turn
My feet were still
On the fathers ground.
Innocuous specks
climb languidly, then streak down;
our world set aflame.
An imaginative world is what your storytelling formed.
I was just three years old when you begin my learning.
Innateness developed and a destiny manifested;
although mom, you stated you were not highly intelligent.
Oh, your whims and your ahs excited a child.
Carrie you put the sparkles in her eyes.
Growing older, we moved from Briesch Street.
You and your six siblings established in New Edition.
You would ask me for my guidance.
You informed me of the world outside.
Ah, you were the best and your children were possessive.
Carrie your caprices and your outcomes guided, thus far, successively.
As a single mother, you were more than that.
You were father, brother, and sister to all of us.
Your oldest son and daughter demised prior to you.
You have went home also.
See, you are eternity and rapture to come.
Ms. Carrie Mae Sexton, may your will be done.
“Be assured that just as an hour is only part of a day so life on Earth is only part of eternity.” C.L. Allen
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