Long Devastations Poems

Long Devastations Poems. Below are the most popular long Devastations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Devastations poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Spider Arachnid

Covered in the jungles evergreen thickets, beneath
Stones and mortars refuge lays an old Mayan crypt,
And on it is written an ancient curse, dare not enter 
Mortal men, or forsake thy living soul, as tributes
Offering at the altar, of the Arachnid Queen.
At midnight's twilight hour, under the moon's elliptical
Shroud of illusions, is exposed isolation's
Forbidden tomb of evil.
As torches spontaneously combust, bursting forth
Into flame, slowly the grave stone rolls backwards,
Releasing the cold and damp air from within.
Emerging from her unholy tomb, this spider demon,
Inhales the crisp night air at last.
A creature is she the Arachnid Queen, of devils
Spawning between her father of darkness,
And a fallen angel of spiritual light.
Weep do the cherubs of heaven, at her birthing's ritual, for
One of their own was so sacrificed, shackled and chained,
Treated as if an animal of disdain, the Arachnid Queen, 
Clawed her way forth, from her mother’s maternal womb.
As a gifts prize from the dark lord, unto his child
Born from the darker side, is the deadly touch of death itself.
To kill without mercy, with accuracy's pin point efficiency,
For she bares no heart or souls pity.
A phantom of mist is she, without definitions form, slowly
She crosses under the forest canopy, and one by one the
Veils of webbing descend, upon her from above. As her
Minion guardians do weave, each delicate sheath's covering.
Revealing a skeletal shape beneath, exposing a beast of 
Monstrous proportions, behold her eight legs appendages
Of a spider.
But above is beauty personified, shimmering as a goddess
Of ebony black, with eyes the color of sea foam, and red
Flaming tresses that blow freely in the flowing breeze.
With the voice of an angel, she so sings ever sweetly,
This is the gift of her fallen mother, to entice the lustful 
Hunger within all men, to devastations final end.
Waving her teasing finger at them, come hither
My love sick fellow and I'll mend your broken heart,
And so do they come, unto the Arachnid Queen.
Entering her webbing's layer, she takes her crimson 
Throne of the dammed, laughing with pleasures sheer
Delight, for tonight she shall feast upon the flesh and blood,
Of living men, and revel in their screams of pain.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Christmas Mourning

Dear Lord. I know that every day has 24 hours blessed with sun, moon, and stars. Yet, every day, many people barely survive and others who starve

I know that every Christmas many will buy, buy, and buy; many will give, give, and give. Yet millions will be penniless, familyless, homeless; many will 

beg, hoping only just to live. I know that our world brings joy and grief, cold 
and heat, sowers and reapers, sorrow and pain.  Yet there are those among us 

who are careless, heartless, and live daily only to cheat and to gain. The 
destructive forces of nature do not know the difference between Christmas and 

other days. For lack of heat, hurricanes might cease, but will not halt at the site of our stop signs or even delay.
**************************************************************
Dear Father God, realizing all these things are true and that neither I nor my fellow humans are any match for Mother Nature,  please grant Planet Earth 

this Christmas Season a season free of massive and destructive earthquakes like the one in Haiti a few years ago. Let any small earthquakes that might 

occur not be strong enough to trigger a large tsunami like the one in Indonesia a few years ago.  Let your comfort and peace surround those in California who 

have lost so much.  Many escaped the fire only with the clothes on their backs, not to mention their lost loved ones.  The sister of a friend in our church 

perished in the Paradise fire. By the way Lord, I thank you for the rain that came to my region in Northern California about two hours ago. And Oh Dear 

Lord, as you very well know, time will not allow so great a list of terrorizing
perils.  There have been countless devastations the world over. My Heavenly 

Father,   I will not ask for more at this time; and I ask these things in the Name of your Son Jesus Christ. Amen.

11212018PoSoupContest, Christmas Mourning, P.S. Awtry
Form: Couplet

Americans For Fair Elections

Americans For Fair Elections

Who is it now that pays the way,
Of politicians gone astray,
And who now will pave the way,
For that which they were paid,

We are Americans who stand true and proud,
Witnessing incredible devastations,
So we shout our mantra strong and proud,
We are 'Americans For Fair Elections'!

One contribution from those who vote you in,
Is all a candidate should be able to get.
To fund a political race to represent,
America for the people within their District,

People who no longer have a voice,
People now easily disregarded,
Who now find they have less of a choice,
Than when this democracy started,

No more party or government matching fund,
No special interest groups or big business,
All lobbying our district reps one by one,
And deciding who will lead our districts 

These contributions have stolen our choices,
And all that we Americans hold most sacred,
These powers have now stolen our voices,
And our democracy now sits degraded,

We 'Americans For True Representation',
Now must take action and take back the reins,
We 'Americans For Fair Elections'
Must now rid ourselves of these stains,

And with the help of our fellow Americans,
We shall return the power to the people,
With every one of us taking a stance,
For together we are indeed powerful,

Through calls, letters, and petitions,
Once again we will make our voices heard,
Offering no retreat and no concessions,
We remain staunch and true to our word,

So be warned you who stand in our way,
For we will remember those with questions,
And those who will stand with us this day,
As 'Americans For Fair Elections'

Please visit 'Americans For Fair Elections' dot com,
And help us to pass the word of this movement on,
Or forward this poem penned by My Gull Wheels On,
a.k.a. Michael Wilson, Your fellow American!
Form: Ballad

Quake-Stricken Town In China

I was truly saddened by the massive quake
that shook China’s Sichuan province;
It was a huge disaster, a furious nature
that at times like this is indeed doleful.

I saw images of devastation all over,
I saw human sufferings in this situation;
I couldn’t believe their profound sadness
seeing deaths in legendary proportions.

Described as one of the worst disasters
in terms of lives claimed and destructions,
there’s superstition or tradition they say
that this might foreshadow in any way
a reigning emperor to have met his death.

Like a historical phenomenon years ago,
when the famous Tangshan quake shook.
the entire land where thousands were killed
and this happened just before the death of
the famous Chinese leader Mao Zedong.

That’s history! An unforgettable event;
a tragic episode that never occurred
to some minds with deep attachments
to this country where Communism 
played the role in varied situations.

Quake victims received great attention
especially in the world of communication;
most of them I heard were migrant workers
from the countryside in search of fortune.

With the growing population elsewhere
I saw how Chinese people struggled
in their own way to overcome misfortunes
that life could go on with their convictions.

Right now, our major print, news and TV media
are sources and avenues of global information;
like epidemics and natural devastations
remind me of our shared, nationwide disasters.

Back in the Philippines where I was born
a litany of calamities and all kinds of anger –
they’re natural catastrophes like volcanic eruption,
all these shaped my vision and love for the people.

Oh, China, our neighboring country in Asia,
I could feel the shadows of your pain and mourning,
Your own people are also in my heart and attention
 with God I pray to him that you’ll be all right.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Those Pair of Latent Eyes

She has a pair of subtle eyes to brood in forlorn,
the vile tale of heart rending cacophonic dissolution.
Those eyes were meek, never crude
to yearn the ties of proximity longed! 
Those meek adorable eyes have endured 
the absolute phases of reckless decimation:
have witnessed the brutal armageddon
of its  plunderers desolation,
who have thwarted  her genial expectations! 

She has those mystic musing eyes 
to impulse in pensive disposition,
an amiable abode of assured assertion,
to recreate the invisible affable bonding of elation;
a placid reciprocating ambience of virtuous relation:
has flair for the  protection, the care, the infallible affection, 
despite, those hands' propensity for imprudent desolation! 

Those pair of sober eyes longed to thrive in composure and attention; in delectation,never in aversion! 
Oh! what a horrific sight, with the axes in the hands, 
the slayers and usurpers of its tranquil serenity
 are waiting like sordid savages for her dire extinction!

Her latent moistened eyes are witnessing the march of those executioners:
are sobbing in utter horror and dismay,
cursing and shrieking quietly her non kinetic endeavours, 
to conserve the sacred entity in virgin forests; pristine, 
from the unscrupulous callous ventures of the predators.    

She has those whimpering eyes to foresight;
to remind the dire repercussions
of dereliction of reckless deviations;
Are wailing and mourning in utter seclusion,
the ceaseless thumps of the usurpers' annihilation.  

Those Pair of Latent Eyes are Nature's Eyes, neither vague, nor obscured:
silently screeching and watching, 
the relentless heedless ravagers' devastations,
Not yet any restoration, despite beseeching imploration,
needless to predict, will reveal in various manifestations!


Heavy About Thirst

Heavy Thirst

The clouds are dark
The clouds are heavy
Heavy clouds bring hope
Heavy hope for rain
Rain to refresh the scorched land
Rain scorched land is bereft of water
Water to quench its thirst
Water for thirsty plants and trees
Trees reduced to bones
Trees that look so skeletony
Skeletony enough for us to afear
Skeletony as they have been boned with drought
Drought to wipe away all that was born to flourish
Drought rid land where not a thing lives without rain
Rain I do wish to ask you a question
Rain bewildered question me why wait
Wait not too long to be flooded
Wait not  for my startling answers
Answers I said will resolve my queries
Answers to questions that have been tormenting me
Me the sinner remains petrified
Me wary that you have for us no care 
Care that is wanting in life
Care without which life has become corrupt
Corrupt because the world has become selfish
Corrupt is the very soul of all humans
Humans within and beastly without
Humans sans love and warmth
Warmth amiss to keep the households together
Warmth necessary to keep devastations away
Away from the evil eye
Away  from what the eye can envision
Envision what the eye cannot see
Envision how difficult to keep any danger away
Away from man's heart and soul
Away from soul which is our healer
Healer of sorrows
Healer that can be turned
Turned into fragment
Turned and spurned as worthless 
Worthless because they come in parts
Worthless parts lack any great strength
Strength frightens inert cowards
Strength overtly will continue abode
Abode on this kingdom 
Abode that often remains in thirst
Thirst because there is no rain
Thirst be quenched Man you yourself have answered
Answered
Rain



Balveen Cheema
September 3, 2015
Form: Blitz

Freedoms Voice

( 9/6/12)

They had gathered in the square
And a feeling of unrest was in the air
A message of freedom resounded out loud
you could  hear the talk amongst the crowd.

Their voices started off very softly
And rose to a high pitched frequency
And in their faces the anger you did see.

The world is changing and so must we
We must fight poverty and bigotry.
Families are starving all around this world
Just look at the faces of the boys and girls.

There are children who are skin and bones
And are left without a home.
Mothers have no more milk in their breast
And not a morsel of food for them to eat
As they lay dying at their feet.

When they do have food to cook
They need clean water and a plate
And a spoon , fork , and a knife
So their fingers they would not bite.

A netting for where they sleep
To them is a treat.
Insects flying all around
And the children s crying is the only sound.

People being condoned because of their
Religious beliefs ,color, and sexual gender
And it’s not getting any better.

I live in a world of political corruption and hate
But I always try to keep my faith and
Hopefully one day they will open up their eyes
And take away that disguise.

This is the reason you hear  FREEDOMS VOICE
Through out the lands - because people just can’t
Understand why our politicians turn their backs
And refuse to pick up the slack.

They say that these are third world nations
Who have all these devastations
But don’t they have rights just like we
So lets try to help them stamp out poverty and bigotry.

I know it’s nearly impossible to do what we say
But one by one we can find the way.

ONE BY ONE !

© L.RAMS
© Louis Rams  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

No Luck For The Masses

No Luck For The Masses

Reversed into a corner where there is no way out 
Rehearsed by a performer who likes to scream and shout 
Inverses like a reformer who doesn’t know what he’s talking about 
A curse that comes from former earnings not to go without 

Multinational corporations that occupy the economic terrain 
Unilateral conflagrations that teach you best of all to abstain 
Collateral in the conversations that leave you grimacing in pain 
Bilateral renunciations that leave the desert drenched in rain 

Devastations that demand solutions in order to comply to convention
Remonstrations of absolution that deny the condescension 
Aberrations of convolution that are a bone of mass contention 
Admirations of the communions of the divine Ressurection 

Profoundly seeking absolution from a person bound by grief 
Resounding personal solutions that require the blessing of a chief 
Confounding immolations that imply the working of a thief 
Impounding the convolutions that you want to remain brief 

Stupefaction of the masses staring at their screens 
Abstraction comes in flashes of animations, adverts and memes
Extraction of the molasses as they’re diluting your dreams 
Retraction of the colossus that invokes a high pitched scream

No luck for the poor the broken the tired the vulnerable or maimed 
A truck of sure defiance that protesting will remain 
The stuck realm of more reliance is a place of unhealthy terrain 
While the crux that bore all of this violence leaves you back out in that desert rain.

Copyright The End Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme

A boy away from home

#I_am_boy_away_from_home!
Like a bird, when one day its obligated to leave the nest and learn to fly by itself, learn self-reliance and survival, face the unfamiliar, the horror's of men and predators, stormy winds and thunders, wrath of God and human

but then, I am jst a boy away from home, away from parents, siblings, I mean, loved ones, away from familiarity and commoness. Swallowd and gnawed by schooling, small and robust cities and towns, townships and communities, tribals and multiracials

call it change of scenery, but this is drastic and enormous, never mind chanllenging and demanding. I had to grow fearthers, more thick soles and engrave courage to my conscience, forge muscles and serious face, paint my purity and naiveness dark and strong

walk sideways with beasts, exchange feasts with fear. Call myself man, a young adult, but then how mature is enough, with all strong and wise, nevermind greatest, crumbling at one stage, when life throws grenates and devastations, instead of fruits and harmony

how strong am I required to be, how brave must I be, how long should I keep persuing? Then why are we born in the first place, if we live to strive, I mean, thrive for better and survival, all endurance and devotion, even in the literally impossble, I don't wanna be a boy away from home but then who suppose to be man? But then, this journey weighs heavy on me, my mind and hope in shambles, this tiny body of mine just can't bear more but then I'm boy away from home
#Poetic_Ink

Premium Member Hurricane Sally

HURRICANE SALLY, 9/16/20


With an unprecedented surge
She has taken my name
And is raging her way across the Gulf,
In all manner of alarming the population:
To stir, to retreat, to shelter,
To abandon the known
For all other available possibilities, to go on
Far from what we find ferocious,
Or never anticipated,
Or not in the forecast.
We mumble slight prayers against
Devastations.
In a rush we gather our families and photos,
Our pets and necessary papers; we grab
A change of clothing and medicines.  Who
Thought we could live with the least?
We think second prayers, hoping God will
Know the rest of our entreaties.
We take flight from home bases to higher ground.

The wind is heard coming.
Already weighty drops smack the ground.
Our children’s eyes are bulging out.
The ghastly, ghostly howls of the storming Sally
Have come, as she keeps overhead with
A continuous rumbling, rolling.  Kept rolling,
Barreling, haunting from above: these tones 
Of tempest as the water rises, and demons flank 
The roads and mark the bridges, “No entry!”

Peace resides still, perhaps in some elsewhere,
For now as we continue on to a higher ground
And the hurry has chased us into long hours.
We try to remember we still carry all stillness
Within us, with reaching somewhere deep.
The eyes with no mercy 
Will not rain even here today!

**********.         ************            ************
(C) sally young eslinger 9/1616/20
Sending blessings to storm-affected families!

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