Long Combat Poems
Long Combat Poems. Below are the most popular long Combat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Combat poems by poem length and keyword.
The world in sudden chaos,
we hear the silent whispers but dare not say a word
Shrouded in uncertainty is our vision now so
blurred?
We go about our business as if it all is fine
But the world is full of messages, so hard for us to define
The way we live has changed all helped along by us
And now it’s becoming difficult we all kick up A fuss.
Hunger, poverty, displacements, genocide,
Atrocities, war, suppression, oppression
To name but a few,
It’s happening all over,
But that’s a fact we knew.
What’s happening in all The world
is now sign of times
The devil will be paying for all his violent crimes.
It’s always been a cesspit, this planet ruled by hate,
By greedy power hungry sods who knows when they be sate!
The hatred is exploding like rockets in the skies
The news and reporters blaming, trying to demonise.
You cannot combat evil
When you are fuelled with hate
The truth is what is written
That is the human fate.
if we all come together and offer peace instead,
We shall turn upon the Devil and turn him
On his head!!!!
He’s been listening to the news,
All up to date about I-raq,
His kit has been laid out
Sorted and ready to pack.
The camel’s on combat rations
So its mood is just a little mean
But it’s a trim and fit and ready
Desert transport machine.
He sleeps out in the garden
In an army surplus tent
It may be second hand but
Its money so well spent.
It’s all in cam colours
Insipid and quite bland
So to fit in with the others
In the hot desert sand.
He’s informed Buck Palace
And Tonee the Vee Pee,
He’s planned for the occasion
And kept some holidays free.
Once the summons comes
That very same day
Lawrence of Neasden
Can be off on his way,
To fight for Queen and Country,
Old Tonee and Georgie Bush,
He knows he’s not heard back yet,
His offer’s been kept very hush,
But come the day
Come the need
Lawrence and his camel
Will carry out the deed,
And lo and behold
It shall come to pass
Lawrence and his Camel
Will help save ol' Tonee's ass.
To be continued
T
No prophesy, epiphany or convoluted scheme
Forecast it’s not. For sure, no joke. And isn’t a pipe dream
But something tells me, instinct chimes, we are so overdue
For global war, as tensions build, for there are many clue
With Pakistan and India, it’s not a soccer match
Red China has a grabby hand, conducts another snatch
U.S. of A. is causing pain, with strain all the way
Against Ukraine – the NK troops, in serious gun play
The good ole Europe has no clue - to sh*t or wind the watch
And Yemen’s Houthis, aiming hate to go up extra notch
Iran and Russia sign pact, strategic, kid you not
We drop assistance to Ukraine, it’s nothing but a rot
In Tehran, they're building bomb, with scary letter “N”
Against Hamas and Hezbollah - combat, no exit plan
Islam, it riles every land, to dominate - and will
Plus Moscow drones attack Ukraine, to have civilians killed
That last world war, forgotten much, is eighty years old
And pressure builds, tectonic plates, are barely on hold
One stupid move or power play – that’s all it’s going to take
Then “Mother War”, an ugly name, uncoils like a snake
I should be wrong, I must stay hushed, I want to live in peace
Yet waves of anguish, they’re spread by White House mouthpiece
What do I know, a little ant, antennas sensing breeze
But if you hear, powers be, don’t start a new war, please!
* NK – North Korea
April 30, 2025
Not so Fast Mister
__________________________________
They were at ringside!
I didn't know it was them!
25 of them, when.
When the intermission
Was announced two of
them jumped the rail and
took the microphone.
They said things, things about
business affairs. They showed
a tape. The dwindling audience
going to venders and the restrooms
Were seen stopped to listen.
We heard them say,"we are tryna
get a working agreement to unify
Twenty regional titles, and three
International titles here in the (@&$?)
Under the big city lights" .
For 30 minutes they talked when intermission was over and the officials came back to
ringside. The guys were asked to take there
seats, they did The match was announced and
the combatants entered the ring, and suddenly
19 men with there regional titles stormed the ring. They sat and refused to leave the ring. The two company's and the referee stood ringside.
While the guys wouldn't leave , the referee started the match ringside, saying it would be an inverted lumberjack match. None of the management teams ringside objected and the match took place. At 5:00 mins. One combat scored a pinfall At the end the "Guy in Charge"
Came through the curtain. He disallowed the match to be entered in the Contention Book. He fined the referee and suspended talks between the company's and called security to escort all
the regional champions to be removed.And cleared the ringside attendants.All backup teams took there place. And he apologized to both the live audience and home audience. And went to break and forced a "non speak clause"
refusing to allow them to speak of the happenings.
I saw in his eyes that a life had been beaten away.
The cigarettes smoked, the shaking hand. A young
man he is but youth had been stripped away. Replaced
by a fierce, trained killer, a calm man he was, well
spoken and polite but kill me he would have if the
order was right.
They train them so hard to defend you and me. But
it's not training I see in his eyes. It's not fear, it's
not lies. A man experienced in what he'd fought
through, we can not comprehend the effect on the
mind that would do. Cold eyes with a smile, with
a shake of the hand. In complete awe I was as he
explained it first hand.
The memory of battle was so evidently raw. I listened,
I listened hard to what he had to say. It moved me to
tears later that day.
With a respect I had not given to any other man, I made
damn sure he knew that he had mine when I said thanks
and shook his hand. On behalf of me and my wife, I said
thanks to a man who had given all that he had, to defend
our way of life.
For this was his belief, he saw it as his calling. To be a
shield between us and terrorists, to be the brave, to
fight for people who can't fight, to be true, to walk into
hell and to fight for me and for you.
A hero he is and will always be. Though humble and
refrained, smoking that cigarette in the rain, carrying
pain as he moved forward with his life. I could see the
battle scars there like they'd just been cut with a knife.
Though so young in age, an elite combat soldier he had
been. Seen things a young mind should never have seen?
It wasn't glory, nor praise wanted by him now. Remembering
his friends dying in such pain, such sacrifice paid for us now.
What made him well-up, what made him speak to me was
hearing the simplest word that all soldiers seek. 'Thanks'.
That's not much for me to say. But him knowing that it was
heartfelt when I said it made him see that their sacrifice
was not in vein.
When I think it's hard living day to day, I will remember
this poem and what is has to say. I will remember the young
man who I met in the cold, with his weary eyes and say
thanks to him again for being so bold. Remember what he
stood for, for what his youth and his friends had died for.
When the embers of their fires finally die, the memories of
a soldier's war will never lie.
Bliss-filled, awesome… yet simply fantastic
Highlights my special son’s show, eclectic
To the phlegmatic, it’s too dramatic
Midst praise-songs, verily operatic
While others comment as realistic…
Heaven-bound, spiritually ecstatic
Journeying zealously, never static
Treading on holy paths though erratic…
There he is, during first scene’s act, frantic
While communing with God in the attic.
He says, he’s no religious fanatic
Proven by his Scripture-driven antic
With what he labels as divine tactic
Against load intellectually hectic
To combat boredom that’s enigmatic.
In counseling grumbling pessimistic
He can become passionately poetic;
Defending his beliefs, he’s dogmatic
Challenging every self-confessed skeptic
With Bible truths to which his soul does stick.
Striving to persuade the apathetic
He trusts the Lord’s mind, indeed majestic
So as to be wisely analytic
Prudent, being lovingly didactic
To share the Gospel*, evangelistic.
In preaching, he’s very enthusiastic
As one who’s practically theistic
With gracious zest, he’s so energetic;
Ministering, indeed altruistic
Bearing Christ’s heart… surely empathetic.
Luke 4:18 The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel.
April 2, 2019
3rd place, "YOUR CHOICE(9),any form,any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 6/15/2019.
Listen for the rustling sound
of the beady-eyed belly crawlers
deceitful serpents slithering on the ground,
flicking a two-forked tongue and hissing.
They should be heeded as a dire warning
when tempting us as if to say,
"Ssssssss..." they whisper, "Come hither."
Through tall meadow grasses
and across lawns and garden soils
they leave a trail of body wriggles
as rippled footprints.
Lying quietly in wait until
we're near to take a bite when startled.
They inflict pain... physical
and if a creature of duplicity, like Satan,
known for his trickery,
being bitten will have a different connotation
They can be found sidewinding
across desert sands seeking shade.
But warm sands hold another who commands...
the scorpion who claims the desolate land
as its home and is not willing to share.
The stinging tail of a crawling eight-legged one
is a weapon the serpent must consider.
Cleverly it lurks in treacherous shadowy places
trying to avoid the wrath of the desert Kahn.
The serpent and the scorpion,
reptile and deathstalker
dancing together until it ends in an embrace
but not one of sweet surrender
They race to combat, a battle to choose a winner,
Venom from a stinging tail and a stabbing bite
One the victor, the other a feast called dinner
But beneath the moon's golden glow,
carefully perched atop a saguaro
Is the sage one who boldly watches,
biding time with its keen eyes.
An owl lets the stinger and hisser fight
until the flap of its widespread wings
indicates his hunger has waited long enough
to be sated... something both should dread.
Take flight great owl, when day gives way to night
Good hunting to you as you choose your prey
Dive with pinioned wings and your fearful screech
Pointed beak at the ready to pluck on the flesh
Will your choice be serpent or scorpion,
the feast you dine upon tonight?
Determine type of instance
Right for the relation
What's signifyer
What's determinant
What's this
Determine context
And the laws within it
To achieve the proper judgement
And that
Miss,
Work produced by you
Is Isn't bad
I am official government
The only the processor
I am guarding
All the real values
Of the world
I's probably that I am not explicitly eternal
Or ideal
But neither am I young
Nor really old
My seal
Insignia
May not be violated
While Army phishing from the ambush
For the frauds
The engineering shall be not existing
For the competition
These are wildfires combat drones
These combat droughts
ETC ETC
The order
Shove up you as*h*le, as*h*le
All your stupid bots
I am of all the misconducts of yours aware
You should have better thought
The stupid human app or human bot
Because
It isn't really you who is the power
And guilty found you on basis of the facts
And not due ugly theater of humans
How shall be executing I
These Acts
The field was strewn with lads clad in Blue and Gray.
Some entwined in death's macabre embrace on that fateful day.
Infantry clashed and cavalry dashed in a struggle to the death.
Boys were heard to gasp, "Mother, I love you!" with their final breath.
The hills echoed with the steady fusillade of the musket's rattle,
As brave men marched forward shoulder to shoulder into battle.
Sun gleamed off polished steel at the front and on the flank;
Yank and Reb in mortal combat, rank assaulting rank!
Cannon belched roaring flame, hurling shot all thro' the lines,
Ravaging men and nature with their destructive mines.
The men in Gray screamed their terrifying "Rebel Yell!"
The men in Blue kept their eyes on "Old Glory" even as they fell!
Barely visible thro' the billowing smoke on that field of little hope,
Grew a solitary rose in a thicket on a nearby grassy slope.
It stood sentry o'er the strife, displaying its brilliant hue,
And seemed to beckon and say, "Peace I offer you!"
A soldier boy broke ranks to fetch the rose in a moment of despair.
He clasped it to his breast and proffered a hurried prayer.
Alas, the gallant lad was soon to meet his fate on that field of gloom.
Buried in a shallow grave, lifeless hands still clutched the bloom.
Nero’s citizens enjoyed games of death
People and beasts for their sadistic fun
Animals and slaves drawing their last breath
Death in the arena, no place to run.
Gladiator fights were the ultimate
Hero worshipped champions of the gore
A sword thrust or spear sealed many ones fate
Crowds roared approval and called out for more.
Was man against man with sword, net and spear
Fight to the death, only one would remain
Experts in combat, none showed any fear
The loser on the ground writhing in pain.
Thumbs down, thumbs up victor looked to Nero
Thumbs up, swings sword crowd have a new hero.