Best Unexploded Poems
Children lie dying
Punished for waking up one more day
In unbearable heat, in a dirty war
They have no Generals
To defend them
From the evils of men
They have no advocates for peace
All the gods seem to be sleeping
As so many infants weep, into deathly silence
They exist no more
Good men take no action
As evil men fight for more blood
We must stand up to the horrors
And give breath to those too weak to stand
We must march on in honor and face the faceless
Who wish harm to all with good will
Sadness created by Assad
For many a year
Infants give only love
Can we not promise them?
Shoofakboukra?
Marhaba
Shoofakboukra = We will see you tomorrow
Marhaba = God is Love
Inspired not only by recent events, but by interviews with people who at the time were children playing with unexploded phosphorus bombs dropped by the Syrian regime in Lebanon.
Categories:
unexploded, children, war,
Form:
Light Verse
Make Love Not War
I want to plant sugar-mines,
that blow on footfall’s touch,
they slap you on the calfs and
thighs and splash chocolate
on your crotch
then quickly I’ll plant cleavage
bombs, the things they do with
cream! And unexploded areola
squads, will lick the red parts clean
We’ll have such fun with pumpkin
gun, and quietly shoot the breeze,
while in the trees I’ll gently squeeze
your bum and stroke your knees
and when all our monkeys settle down,
and chickens from behind, without a
war we’ll live our lives …..why can’t we
just be kind?
So make love not war, it’s fun to score
and make the rafters shake, and in the night
between the two, a spicy cake to bake!
Categories:
unexploded, peace, war,
Form:
Rhyme
The day i saw
this con man
was night
and wind
was snow
and rain
he was laughing
kicking for fun
white snow balls
and children skulls
angels like flies
were falling around...
It happened the day
I saw this man
an unexploded grenade
was left on the board
killing instantly
the drunken pilot...
That day I thought
was the end of the world
that was taken over
from the foes of God...
I couldn't think straight
i was just a teen
stuck in the middle
of a sophomoric dream...
Categories:
unexploded, confusion, day, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Excited bustle
What we were missing returns
Unexploded clan
Heart’s origins, simple times
Uncomplicated soul bonds
Cresting apogee
Highest point of our proud arcs
Yet farthest away
From yore’s endless sun-drenched days
When life besotted senses
Half our lives behind
Yet still yearn to reconnect
Fertile fundament
Simplest sense of our place
Roots gulp moisture from first soil
Time’s stern visage clear
Eternal shared history
Now awake within
As if only yesterday
Not ten thousand days ago
5/23/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Categories:
unexploded, anniversary, class, nostalgia, remember,
Form:
Tanka
They just lie low
Waiting to pounce
With deadly results
On innocent people
And causing unfathomable
Mental and physical damage
These are strictly speaking
Not people with heart and soul
They are unexploded ordinance
Best diffused with bulldozers or
Unmanned air combat vehicles
But best of all a change of heart
A feat the troops of God, Allah
And other Deities might as well
Employ, if they are not complicit!
Categories:
unexploded, visionary,
Form:
Blank verse
An endangered species, living on a ledge,
100 seconds to Midnight, then over the edge,
Nearest to Doomsday, humans have ever been,
Vaporised! inside mushrooms of boiling hot steam.
Casually go about our business, without a care,
While the Sword of Damocles, hangs in the air,
So be it, nevertheless, makes no difference to me,
Probably guessed, this poem’s done sardonically.
It’s true! I mean come on, never going to happen,
Like the day, every Dinosaur got flattened,
Poor creatures walking around, totally oblivious,
Could we stop the impact, much less obvious.
Melancholia movie, thought their doomsday, was a flyby,
Built a symbolic shelter of sticks, when aware gonna die,
In that scenario, was definitely better not to know,
A storyline with an inevitability, of no planet tomorrow.
Well back to reality, why should we be exempt,
After redesigning nature, showing utter contempt,
Earths an unexploded time bomb, ready and primed,
Detonated by paranoia, or maniacs out of their mind.
To be honest, rather get finished off, really quick,
Over and done with, not dying radioactively sick,
I’ve done a lot of talking, and when all this is said,
If the missile comes, hope it slams into my head.
I’m sceptical though, about that Doomsday clock,
It’s a postulation, put forward to make us take stock,
Nuclear weapons will continue, for better or worse,
Another asteroid comes, Rejoice if the Bastard’s work!
By
David Kavanagh.
Categories:
unexploded, allegory, conflict, earth day,
Form:
Quatrain
unexploded shell
soldiers trying to defuse
silence now departs
leaving them no time to lose
heaven fights again with hell
Categories:
unexploded, war,
Form:
Tanka
BOMBS AWAY
"Holy crap, that's one fair turd offloaded Hermann, you must be relieved"
Indiana Shaw . . . ; )
"Exeter unearths an unexploded 1.000 kg World War II Hermann bomb" . . .
Categories:
unexploded, humor, metaphor, world war
Form:
Monoku
Along the blood road
there's thousands of ponds
carved out by American bombs.
An attempt to blast communism
into starry oblivion-
It'll take a hundred years to remove
unexploded ordinances(uox's)
Children mistake them for shiny toys
every day is black Christmas for children
who play along the blood road-
The metal from war doesn't go to waste
the skin of bombs are made into skiffs
that hum across the delta mist.
Some bringing blue round-eyed tourists...
Eager to see how poor communists live,
More often than not they'll be invited into a hut
provided a humble meal...
Sometimes by a widowed -one armed matriarch.
Today, the blood road is being devoured by jungle.
Natives still slave over rice paddies.
just like they have for a thousand years.
and will for a thousand years beyond...
Some of the bomb ponds hold trapped fish
where villagers toss hopeful nets...
and who said war is good for nothing?
Categories:
unexploded, war, water,
Form:
Free verse
I am from fast-food,
From paper plates and dinners in front of the t.v.
I am from the stale stubborn silence,
Eating away at smiles
I am from the Lily flowers, resting in the corner
The Willow tree begging to be climbed by the laughter filled children
Whose long limbs I remember
Ripping in the wind, but inviting you in during the calm
I’m from Sunday night dinners, and reading in the dark
from Crystal and Wesley
I’m from the know-it-alls and the class clown
I am from avoiding our problems like the dust under the rug
I’m from be quiet Lillian and where's my dinner?
and reckless love echoing in my bedroom
I’m from Conroe and America
From Whoop- up and crawfish
From the explorations of my dad around the world
Looking for unexploded mines, like it was treasure
From smiles trapped in pictures of the past
Necklaces with fingerprints of those we loved and lost
Recipe books filled with meals of reminiscence
Categories:
unexploded, 10th grade, family, time,
Form:
Free verse
I remember the red heat rising from my neck,
The embarrassment of being accosted by the police,
Because I was never supposed to see you again,
The irrational fear that the cops
Would call my wife
And tell her I was being unfaithful.
Then, to add to my embarrassment,
You showed up, calm,
Your tan arms, your melted chocolate top,
Your shiny black mini skirt, your long black tights, the feminine boots,
Looking better even than my memory
Of you when you shyly asked me to join you
For a picnic by the canal at Ohio State.
I remember your soft green eyes, the green grass of spring time
Coolly you explained my situation to the cops,
Ending my embarrassment and pulling me towards you
With your gentle efficacy
Now that I was in your magnetic field
I realized I had no plan.
We drove to the Holiday Inn
I pulled you to me,
Wanting your electrons to whirl in my orbits,
Wanting to touch the curves of your intelligent face
With my fingertips,
Knowing I only had 30 minutes to persuade you
Of my new found love.
I searched for the words that could let you know
With complete transparency,
How much commitment I felt,
How much passion would grow,
But the words couldn’t be found,
The mini skirt walked away
The night remained unopened for 50 years
An unexploded grenade
Buried beneath the golden wheat fields of Normandy.
Where are you now?
Categories:
unexploded, heartbreak,
Form:
Free verse
The road that has been improved and widened would’ve yielded many unexploded munitions. I’m curious how many were found and wonder how many thousands still hide unfound. Sections of the trees/grass by the road are taped off. This is for safety of any munitions and also due to the steepness of the terrain.
The local people within the valley are being moved away and compensated for thus upheaval. Their valley will be inundated by what is now a small river in coming years. Any remaining homes and unfound munitions or Japanese tunnels will be underwater.
Every time I hike the area from Wawa to Mt Mataba to Timberland to Casili I read about or am told or shown evidence from the war and battles; that old actions from 1945 has outlived the people of that time be it locals or soldiers. History is not old and boring black and white photos. An rusty Arisaka rifle with working bolt or blasted shell fragments tell more than any story or photo ever could. Only fate and God knows the unnamed soldiers names now.
When the dam is built I wonder how many unfound unexploded ordnance and dead Japanese soldiers will be now forever unfound? I suspect many thousand Japanese soldiers are buried on those peaks. Remember, these hills are the first high ground above Manila. This was the start of the high ground battles that went on for hundreds of miles at several huge mountain ranges. It was Tier 1 fighting equal to anywhere involving hundreds of thousands of opposing troops, of which tens of thousands were killed.
Now the 1945 legacy is coming back to bite us. Not just buried shells on a dam construction site but the risk of them still exploding when not even found. This is due to corroding fuses. Buried bombs in Europe have self detonated several times. I’ve been told of two large unexploded warplane dropped bombs, one near Timberland and the other near Mt Parawagan. Both need to be found again and professionally defused. History is never boring; the lethal harvest is a testimony to their dastardly deeds.
***
Categories:
unexploded, adventure, military, nature,
Form:
Verse
An Awful Harvest
I went a hike up to Wawa in Montalban and up the mountain roads. Here I was to go past the peaks of Mt Parawagan, Susong Dalaga and Mt Lagyo plus others. The road had been improved by engineers with trucks and plant equipment. I wanted to hike a big circle right back to the beginning. This was possible a few months ago but not now due to the building of the Pamitinan Dam. It will take four years to do this and flood a complete valley near the peaks. A guard told me no entry by the construction site. I talked to a head engineer and he told me more details. The dam will be eighty metres tall or deep more than the Kaliwa Dam of sixty four metres. These are big structures. Hikers wanted to hike from Wawa to Casili by the newly improved mountain roads but the dam construction stopped this. In time a new road will be built above the dam level replacing the old road. Even if the road is built in a year the dam will still be unfinished so still no entry.
I saw a sign saying beware of UXO Unexploded Ordnance. A local man told me about this, of how the military was looking for it and would defuse any found. His details matched much of what I’ve heard before, like finding shrapnel in the soil. The sign was for the road improvement and dam construction. Sleeping shells waited to knocked awake and kill.
The digger, bulldozer and plant drivers need to be paid danger money. No joke. The area they work on is a small part of a huge World War 2 battlefield. An awful harvest litters the land with unexploded ordnance being buried in the soil having not detonated. Mortars, shells, bombs and other things; these all need locating and safely defusing by the military.
People live in the area and many have found live or exploded shells. The live shells are complete and the spent ones are in varied sized pieces. On my hike up there I was given a piece of one five five millimetre shell from a local. This was in two parts, the biggest weighed many pounds. I estimate between one in four and six fired never exploded. On the stone mountains like Mt Lagyo the shells and bombs will explode on impact if the detonators are triggered. In soil covered peaks the shells can just dig in and don’t go off. The army went up to Mt Lagyo looking for unexploded ordnance. They found nothing.
Categories:
unexploded, adventure, military, nature,
Form:
Verse
Every work of art has a bit of cellulite.
The perspective is off:
a comma misplaced
a disjointed ending to a play
a cracked pirouette
an unexploded ordinance
Every masterpiece has imperfection.
Observe everything from a distance.
Then flaws turn into perfection...
cellulite becomes rippled silk.
Categories:
unexploded, allusion,
Form:
Free verse
Girly Stories
There may be unexploded shells
or rats that squirm among the sordid waste.
But only girly stories each one tells
as they walk home together in their fearful haste.
Keep the children from the things that prey
on their being children day by day.
#4
9/29/19
Make IT Six Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Categories:
unexploded, age, children, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme