Long Apocalyptic Poems
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Sunken circles
Drawn faces,
Exhaustion and fever gleam
In the eyes of the badly wounded
"If they cannot stand,
They must be left behind"
None of us protest
As the situation is dire
"If fate is merciful,
They will freeze or bleed out before..."
Aircraft engines roar in distant sky..
"Before Bolsheviks arrive."
"A Soviet finds a litter half-dead defenseless men
They take the first opportunity"
To inflict upon a non combatant
The most barbaric torture and mutilation.
But we simply dispense a bullet
Suitable for a soviet burden.
Such is the war of total annihilation.
Encircled and cut off
Our forces attempt to break out at dawn,
With our final act of symbolic dissent.
We attempt to still survive.
To give credence to the losses and suffering
But apocalyptic ends await
This starving pack of desperate animals
Run faster—looking back will be your downfall.
The screeching of the infected gains intensity.
Drag the razor wire barricade across blistering concrete—
scraping rusted metal, shards splintering into scorched oblivion.
Enter the valley of death, shadows playing tricks on your weary mind.
Searching for answers, your quest has begun.
Cityscapes metamorphose into deserted deserts.
Continue your path forward,
while an unrepentant sandstorm takes root.
Devious mirages tempt you to stray from your destination.
Talons of despair rip into ailing flesh,
causing vermilion blood to spray—
forming abstract patterns in screaming sand.
Tear strips of fabric from your tattered shirt.
Cover those wounds, gather your strength, and push forward.
The answers to why hell cracked open should be within reach.
It has to be—this can't be all for naught.
Infernos blazed the lands, while the Four Horsemen rode, shaking the earth.
Incessant suffering followed, until Death became welcomed with open arms.
Grabbing ahold of fraying senses,
into the unknown, through the archway you go.
Stricken by what you see, panic worms in.
Scribbled on the wall, your past self wrote:
“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”
You've been here before—no answers, just more crippling questions
of will this ever end?
Albeit cold shower with sudden zoo
ming onset of
brisk fallen temperatures
may not be amenable to you
dear reader, but after Matthew
sets to washing
creating substantial lather,
visited with healthy slew
of frothed shampooed hair do
(cuz - jest like
Spongebobsquarepants,
I like abundant suds),
which initial shock
of cold water jolts mine
body inducing "Whew"
to escape soaped over mouth
(here, lemme lean in
so yukon get a whiff)
this self proscribed
quasi (very diluted off the
Peco boo grid) deprivation
of hot H2O tolerance,
qua minimal self
elected survivalist
modus operandi value
bull electric kool aid acid test
undertaken in the
event devastating adversity
(mainly an electricity
power outage) doth render
livingsocial uncomfortably
cold to the bone and sinew,
where mind over matter decides
riches superfluous,
especially if parvenu,
when scads of back up
generators conk out
total unbelievable wreckage,
sans the overnight
natural germane Blitzkrieg
imposes savage apocalyptic
devastating hellacious milieu
(on account of a mega disaster
such as hurricane Michael), who
doth not indiscriminate
toward gentile or Jew
obliterating entire infra
structure super glue
equalizing economic disparity hew
wing fair playing field reducing
whether disposable wealth harkens
from "old" money, and/or nouveau
riche, this sudden
catastrophic event brew
till lee decrees indeterminate
penury, and trappings
of theoretical leisure class
bon voyage every stitch of cloth,
and other material goods
forcibly bade i.e. adieu.
Houses built with love and thought gone in seconds. Poof!
Koalas who have lived in a territory for generations running
to gulp air
to find water
but alas many die any way
Trees gone. Grass blackened. Earth crying. Australia disappearing.
Hopelessness felt around the world, as we watch the inferno
Taking lives
Taking homes
Taking safety and freedom
Kangaroos and koalas falling by the thousands never to get up
Destruction devouring Australia
Destruction of houses
Destruction of millions of animals
Devastating destruction
Everything disappearing in an apocalyptic inferno.
Climate change nightmare
Climate change reality
Pray for Australia
(otherwise titled psalm to
Amelie Beth by Matthew Scott,
his genuine, gluten free and non GMO
poetic non fake appreciative guise.)
Ah, thee availed me reason to craft
a poem with rhyme or reason,
when I beheld unexpected email
exemplifying Christmas season
triptych most handily drawn pictures
by southpaw sister to think
on the other hand (right),
would be synonymous
with brother commiting treason...
Tempting as such crime
to oust Trump doth appeal
worst scenario... an utter
nightmare should commonweal
constituting United States of America...
blatantly, doggedly, ferociously...
crushing democracy fragile ethereal
frenziedly, maniacally, and unceremoniously
grinding into powder art of the deal
compliments those doughy
two hundred forty three pounds
with squishy feel
bearing full force upon
every square inch of each heal
commanding, forcing, and torturing
every American get down
on knees and kneal
until they simultaneously beg
for mercy with ear splitting squeal.
The ruthless "Fake" tyrant
cackles, gurgles, issues glee
as he doth reveal
his starkly totalitarian, ultimately
vindictive, wickedly surreal
punishment to every man,
woman and child for
not winning 2020 election yule
suffer where high crimes
and misdemeanors during
farcical impeachment trial miniscule
compared to reign of terror
he will violently unleash
rip pull sieve tides
substituting himself as top dog
thus, he forcefully usurps
permanent dictatorial rule...
Other than the above dystopian fear
your brother eagerly
awaits the new year
maybe joining activist group
(maximizing) plank - scare
ring up said apocalyptic near
possibility, cuz Trump equals sore loser
(methinks that an understatement)
nonetheless, what I write might
seem far fetched hear
say (grim heresy),
yet... look no further,
he doth plainly appear
as anti-semitic, bombastic, cataleptic,
demonic, egocentric,
graphic, horrific, misogynistic...
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
New World Order
Moving toward totalitarianism.
Dictatorship, absolute power.
World polluted government.
Globalist agenda.
Shut down the protesters.
Slaves to world power.
Our words are meaningless.
Our opinions don’t even matter.
Selfish supreme rulers.
Ideology.
Corrupt politics.
We the people are locked up in a prison.
Apocalyptic, complete destruction.
Economic disaster.
Control with no limitation.
No place to run.
Fight back our freedom.
Raise your fist in the air.
New World Order.
The false leaders of tomorrow.
The beginnings toward the end.
Our leaders have always been the enemies with sin.
Control the world.
Worship only money and themselves.
Dictating the human raise.
End of days.
Inside this cave, my refuge, nave
I bend and stretch and breath,
to find myself among the ruins
of ancient places, faces, and history.
Although I strive to change the tide
of my own motivations,
something akin to a Zephyr wind
has me returning to old foundations.
Cornerstones, above the bones
of ancestors crying out in vain,
“I too once lived, loved, and looked above,
beyond mountains, clouds, and rain.”
Within my walls I read the call
of (by far more) learned minds,
who looked beyond their own demise,
to future points in time.
Beyond hate and war, the kind that tore
humanity apart at the seams,
cataclysmic, apocalyptic,
nightmare scenes.
Socrates knew, as Plato too
but they were only the beginning,
of a line of thinkers, knowledge drinkers,
all of them underpinning.
How we should live, think, act, and dream
From day to day and night by night,
great thinkers lived that they might give
a more beautiful, brighter, shining light.
Their list is longer than King Tut’s curse
and all the books throughout the earth
could never touch
their individual or collective worth.
From Pythagoras to Parmenides
Democritus to Hobbes,
St. Augustine to Aquinas,
Ayn Rand to John Rawls.
From Thales and Anaximander,
Homer to Thomas Kuhn,
AL-Ghazali to Maimonides,
From Budda to Sun Tzu.
From ancient days to modern ways
of beckoning the questions how and why,
Inside this cave, my refuge, nave,
I bask and ask, the Oracle at Delphi.
Honesty is pure and very rare.
But you can still find it within a child's painting.
Filled with maniacally smiling potato people.
Hovering over flat houses.
Giant rabbits hopping atop God-green hills.
Everything bathed in apocalyptic sunrays.
You'll still find a fifth of honesty on city streets.
By those who've fought the good fight but still lost everything.
Tossed to the back alley of society...
Honesty can be found in yellowing verse.
But you've got to be patient enough.
To sift through the glitter and fluff.
Rarer still... you can find honesty in politics.
The one who tosses fists full of fire and slag.
Dresses high society in burlap panties...
but they're rarely victorious.
Because the ostrich people prefer a gentler touch.
Somebody to hide the harsh truths from their high-end butts....
That fancy pink ribbon tongue wrapped around their funny bone... cancer.
CORONALITY (2)
The world speaks in mournful tone,
The times keeps me up on it's own
Leading to crash but thought beckons,
The blueprint to pay for many tomorrows.
I swirl spoon in watery calamitious broth, tasteless,
Sit speechless, government powerless,
Aviation wingless, travel-ban endless,
Many activities motionless,
Our once trusted hands have become prohibition,
Toilet paper, nose mask and sanitation,
Just like liquid bleach sanitizing humanity,
Have become most sort after commodity.
Tupac predicted it when our health was alil better,
That Corona will emanate from China.
Eschanton apocalyptic reign.
Covid-19 pandemic now the world's stain,
Every breath you take may implicate you
But healing waters will benevolently flow through
To relieve the world's pain,
To commemorate the slain
And wipe off CORONALITY from mother Earth.
This, most definitely, I can bet.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2020.
Owning the ability to strikingly be on a rough road.
Need the pride to cross the hazardous paddled rowed.
Caesar energetically settled on a terrible decision.
Cross a no-return line for Rome's dictator to goad.
When they had passed the Rubicon's canyon.
Their battle fizzled into cruel oppression.
Out of the red downpour, passing raised its peak.
Where their bodies swam in an ocean of dejection.
The evil has bestowed on humanity a bleak.
They'll be modified into poisoned minds Greek.
Wanting abundance, they are killing their power.
Projecting havoc on Earth and fueling flames of shriek.
Boomed and dabbed same as a colossal breaker.
Evil masters unleashed devastation ashore and water.
Mores perished, and the Earth was scorched.
God has gotten some distance from man's disaster.
Drink and trust your trick isn't called.
You missed the last outing for no end.
Resting is simple presently; you're patching.
This will happen once all perspectives are tired?
Friends, we're in it for the long stretch being.
There is no way toward the rear for returning.
The briny exit is to move straight forward.
It'll drive us anyplace we crave to be moving.
As his army crossed the Rubicon River, the point of no return, Julius Caesar said the famous lines "Alea lacta est," which means "the dice is cast." This poem discusses apocalyptic prophecies when crossing the Rubicon.
Written: October 11, 2021
Pick-A-Title, Vol 26 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh