Long Bombs Poems
Long Bombs Poems. Below are the most popular long Bombs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bombs poems by poem length and keyword.
Call me a fool;
But there's a frisson of fear
And my nerves get frazzled
When I think of Fat Men and Little Boys
Breeding like flies.
Tiny specks in the sky
Promising balmy sun
Soon free-fall.
A spark of a fulminate -
Fission unfizzled
Nuclear unclear
A thousand suns ablaze, not splendid.
A holocaust unleashed from above.
I hate mushroom soup
Especially if they are in a cloud.
And why does the Buddha smile?
Notes:
Fat Man , Little Boy - Fission Bombs dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima on 9th and 6th Aug 1945 respectively
Smiling Buddha - Name of India's first Atomic Bomb tested on 18 May 1974
"...when power narrows the areas of man’s concern,
poetry reminds him of the richness
and diversity of his existence...”
--John F. Kennedy
~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
Soldiers of our armed forces,
Iraq, Afghan, Lebanon, many shores,
Light the way like liberty blazing torches
They fight heat, bugs, sand, tough faces,
urban warfare, darkness, crashed doors,
Soldiers of our armed forces
Now Send home change of addresses,
stories, photos, emails, strange places,
Light the way like iron cut by torches
Camouflage faces, wet bloody bruises,
brows sweating, under helmet gushes,
Soldiers of our armed forces
Sleep in sandy humid desert trenches,
thunder blast, bombs dropped, fire fights,
Light the way like laser torches
Loved ones wear yellow broaches,
anxiety, praise, tears, vague smiles,
Soldiers of our armed forces,
Light the way like liberty blazing torches.
© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., (Epulaeryu Master) 6/23/2010
All Rights Reserved.
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If Life Gives You Lemons
…you make lemonade or suffer the cliché
Nutella makes your empty stomach sick but
there are no nuts just misery bolting from
the sky cluster bombs hailing ‘America First’
Lemons cannot be amended when there are none
the first amendment secures all sorts of freedom
The right to have no rights
the right to live without dignity or
to die across the frontiers save no
graces within segregated borders
Life is nuts demonic **** bang crazy
she would die for a lemon in the ruins
where her orchard had been on crusty
soil now they all look like hand grenades
The blender of her life does not make juice
it has crushed all almonds in her garden
a lonely olive hangs from a branch and weeps
Tell us of folks with conscience clear on terror; of trusted neo
terrorists that oust teams, terrorizing thousands... near, far, and wide
May it marinate in their minds; peace and equality are as grated rind
with scent of pure zing... unlike vexed souls, bent on terrorism
Just last night, amid day light, before photographer's sky, right in
spring's warmth... such unforgiving moment of sudden fright
Thunderous wondrous sounds of bombs whirred, then cease, and
just like that came sight of flight 8430, blown to fallen pieces of debris
I saw red, white, and blue of American airlines's plane, meshed with chaos
just as those blown to smithereens during 9ll... Still I'll fly. Why shouldn't I?
In this land of plenty, we won't share cowardice with tyrants of immorality;
not on their watch! freedom bell has rung for everyone free of contentions
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." (... they knew not...)
Flight 8430 felt Coup DE main... not of You, Great God of earth, sky, and dew
I shan't forget humongous, booming sounds of invisible bombs that flew and
flung sudden terror so near, i hastened with thoughts of Islam and coercion
Of intimidation, degradation, castration; of trepidation, and mutilation
that moved me to see martyrdom in terrorism as ignoble affiliations
I'm due like you to sit snug and breathe with ease here and now, without
quest; will I survive or will I have time to utter one final goodbye
Night's stream of consciousness was dream, dear God, but Your world need You...
only You; by power of Your might, turn terror to unadulterated thanksgiving; so
As we ponder canvas of sky with eyes beyond clouds; we'll grace life with
courage; for we shall over come with hope, with aims, and with our dreams.
*
I will not forget the day that evil came,
One clear and sunny morning in September.
Terrorists attacked with cruel hatred,
A tragic day that we must all remember.
I will not forget the day the towers fell.
Planes used as bombs, by madmen, took them down.
A sunny day transformed by destruction,
Shell-shocked citizens wept as they came down.
I will not forget the heroes of Flight Ninety-three,
Who, though they lost their lives saved many more.
With resolve and a mighty roar: "Let's Roll!"
They thwarted an attack of D.C.'s core.
I will not forget the first responders,
Who raced to the scene of devastation.
Searching for survivors they were relentless,
Some gave all in stirring dedication.
No, I will not forget September eleventh,
The day that evil came and left its ugly mark,
A day filled with vile death and destruction
A day so indefensible and dark.
Hey Mr Putin let’s have a good war
Show the west it’s worth waiting for
Kill a few million before it ends
Then we’ll shake hands and all be friends
Hey Mr Putin it’s all in your hands
Cross the borders and ruin Christmas plans
Bomb the innocent abolish the poor
Yes Mr Putin let’s have a good war
Hey Mr Putin, take a look outside
Speak to your parents about sons that died
But lucky no harm came to call on you
Hey Mr Putin, you’ll get what’s due
Hey Mr Putin, lower your gun
There’s a big white flash and then there’s none
But you must be pleased with your new land
It’s full of debris, bodies and sand
Hey Mr Putin, it’s not too late
The horse hasn’t bolted so lock the gate
Pull back your killers in every guise
Go back to base show the world your wise
David Cox 7/12/21 17:50
Cry Freedom
Not many Americans know the world is not looking westward they see the fall of the value
they see the poverty of the suffering people who die of curable illnesses because they can’t pay the cost and might sell their house to cover
of capitalistic health service, but let’s put that aside what Trump said about World War 2
It was Russia who won the Nazi war, albeit with
help from the USA; was also Russian soldiers who freed the prisoners in concentration camps
and oversaw the fall of Berlin
For America, it was a profitable war, Europa had
no industry left and got generous loans to start to rebuild a shattered economy
America’s real war was in the Pacific a colonial war against Japan who had taken Indochina which was America’s playground
the US won that war by dropping two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, this caused total surrender and the US was back ruling over Indochina
America as we can see today, was bad rulers
the elevated cruel dictators to rule whose only qualification was obedience to America
Today Indochina is in Bricks and free from the US influence
World today asking for war just only to gain
they are playing trumpet in sky
they are bombing in the housing in the residential crowd
peoples so many has died In the war, thats shy and shame.
Russia's values are declining in the war
are there someone to evaluate this agony
to do justice there to get hire?
There is no human nearer today
the door of love is closed it is war hey!
In the slaughterhouse, the sky is a hundred times more than the slaughter
Hundreds of bombs were carried in the greedy wants are there.
His mind is to poison to show the ugly route of civilization
does the Earth ever want to fight!
wants harmony only to won.
I used to sit on my Nan’s knee; she ran her fingers through my hair
She told me all the stories of when she thought life was still fair
Many a time just sitting there listening to her stories told with mirth
I wouldn’t have swapped it for anything; there was nothing of equal worth.
Stories of my granddad, my mum, aunts and uncles too
Stories of the bombs landing, and all of them quite true.
To this day her old house, the wall tilts at an odd angle
When a bomb landed there, it blasted the streets only mangle*
There was always so many of us and not enough knees to go around
But I always managed to get one whenever we went round.
We were usually on the run, the rent man after money
Dad had got it to a fine art. Just booze no bread and honey
My Nan one did her anger flew, she struck him with a pan
I think it might have done him good; he started to become a man.
Those days now just a memory, but such wonderful though hard times.
No food no home no money but it was really great sometimes
A fondness there is for thing long past, whether good times or the bad
A time to remember the best of it, to get though it we should be glad
I still sit and ponder and feel her fingers through my hair
I’ll never say goodbye to my Nan, even though she isn’t there.
© 23/11/2012
*
Mangle: Rollers to squeeze water form the washing.
In those days the whole street used to share a mangle the owner would be the wealthiest in the road.