Long Havoc Poems
Long Havoc Poems. Below are the most popular long Havoc by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Havoc poems by poem length and keyword.
FOB Echo Iraq was a forward operation base near the Babylon site in the city of Diwaniya, in fact the US military put security hesco and fencing around the ruins for protection from all of the goons in the region. This was a hot base and the hajis would lob at least 3 salvos of mortar on us each day. February 06 i was walking from my CHU to the DFAC for lunch and i heard a rocket scream over head at low altitude, sounded like a high performance jet, about the most startling sound I've ever heard.. a hot second later the KBR laundry facility went up in an incredibly loud boom, a huge ball of fire, smoke, dust and debris ...... was the first to the entrance, the place was in flames and lying about 20 feet in the inside the door was the body of this cute girl wearing a blue KBR t shirt, she was folded in half.. i don't believe or at least i tell myself she didn't suffer or felt stress. i still see her face, just a cute girl, kind of mulatto, pretty, just trying to make a living and support her family back in the islands. Shortly after the US brought in Strikers and they raged havoc on the area for several weeks. That was and remained a hot base. Never so glad when i was on Cat Fish Air out of that hole... occasionally like last night, she comes to visit me in my dreams
Matthew Scott Harris deprived himself
relishing, savoring, and tasting
chromosomal biologic metamorphosis
including wreaking havoc, nixing, and
foregoing heterosexual interpersonal experiences,
thus sparking woeful regret
disallowing, disenabling, and not providing
natural encoded healthy growth
of body, mind, and spirit triage
regarding fluke of universe i.e. me
(since origin of aforementioned species)
took center stage tentatively
bivouacking upon globe.
Much ado about nothing
can be done measure for measure
missing out out love's labour's lost
nevertheless, all's well
doth (did) not end well
concerning (by dickens)
my life and hard times,
which cannot square miserable
with great expectations never attained
courtesy wretched soul,
scratching our feeble existence,
who gives the antagonist and/or protagonist
constituting Les Misérables,
a run (for his) la monnaie,
eeking out hand to mouth subsistence
never livingsocial, nor buzzfeeding
avast set of basic hormonal needs and wants
and/ or acquiring, succoring,
and treasuring pittance
akin to dime a dozen
day late and dollar short paupers,
(whose mere pennies on the dollar earnings,
albeit insufficiently funded legal tender)
while accruing mere stale crumbs
comprising daily bread -
our humble father
who art thou in heaven...
bejesus crust...damn near
impossible mission to guarantee
adequate sense and sensibility
pertaining to mine remaining
complete or partial celestial orbitz
without pride nor prejudice
upending, jeopardizing, or compromising
my fragile ego contemplating Cogito, ergo sum.
Dangers plague this shambolic world in which we live
where many seek vengeance and are not apt to forgive.
It's a never-ending cycle of accuse, battle, and defeat
at any cost, walking on a knifes edge with bloody feet.
Perpetual confrontation: nation vs. nation, combative.
Everyone is power hungry to become king of the hill,
stepping on each other as if we're bodies in a landfill.
Humanity teeters for balance before falling from a cliff.
Why doesn't anyone ask the right question..."What If?"
What if arbitrary wars ended without the need to kill?
What if no one felt the need for control and greed
and what if peace prevailed when it has been decreed?
Would the world then become a Gandhian escape,
or would wolves be disguised in a sheepskin serape?
Demented are those who enjoy watching others bleed.
Mankind does not realize the havoc it's been wreaking.
It's their terror and aggression we should be critiquing,
but I fear this selfish world will never be of one accord
until the day when humanity no longer raises a sword.
Disgraceful are immoral leaders who are self-seeking.
Death seeks a ransom, always demanding we pay more.
So, when it comes knocking, stand guard at your door
or risk falling from precipice height, the peril of a ledge.
Wagering on war is a dangerous bet no one should hedge,
for walking on a knife's edge is something we should abhor.
Written: May 30th, 2026, for a contest sponsored by: Silent One
Quote: "My mother was destiny. My father, grace." By Rumi
**************************
He was no eidolon,
but a telluric force
keeping his grounding on,
never veering off course.
Yet restless as cabotage winds across oceans,
carried the world in his motions.
His laugh—obstreperous and wild,
a gale where rafters rattled,
Yet his taciturn silence, deep and mild,
calmed the miasma where doubt battled.
Clumsy of tenderness, devout,
learned late how to cradle.
His heavy hands, like a broad ladle,
became limpid, flowing rivers,
guiding me past venal mirrors,
and maelstroms meant to wither.
A ragamuffin teacher,
pugnacious with life’s features,
fustigated blatherskite shudders,
turning them into golden treasure.
Coins of courage for the dreamer,
minted in the furnace of his gaze.
In the penumbra of his presence,
a shudder rippled at vain sight—
the void held its equanimous essence,
a reverent tremor of sublime light.
Whispering secrets of the sunken stars' vicinity,
veiled within the ideology of his scars' trinity.
He was besotted with love,
austerely self-denying as he drove.
An erudite cartographer—a heart of dove
tracing the ancestral cradle, arched above
By the iron of peace, and velvet glove.
Carving a haven from havoc, and a grove.
Dear Father—
my zeitgeber, my grimoire of guidance,
my incarnadine horizon.
Even now,
your mellowness lingers.
A tenderness—
sardonic,
stretching into the infinite.
The skies whispered
And my summer turned stormy
Winds swirled all around me
Dismantling the shelter surrounding me
No more on safe grounds
I found myself unable to run
As water rapidly filled in
Finding nothing to hold on to
I got swept away
The winds blew me to the center of the storm
Controlled by love, as willed by the skies
In the midst of the chaos
I could only listen to the flute
Being played from love's deep eyes
Recounting to me of the harshness of cold nights
And the bliss of the skies' whispers
The chaos raged on
While I succumbed to love's flow
Enlaced in strong arms
Promising to hold on to me
Even in the next world
As my powerful God
The skies whispered and the storm wreaked
The havoc is of unequalled power
While the bond of love only got stronger
I opened my heart, as a bud in bloom
A fragile flower, gently held in his arms
I welcomed the warmth of his touch
He was my morning dew, slaked my thirst
and sated my hunger for love.
His words were whispered in my ear.
But now, his utterances rip my petals apart
Cruel inflictions play havoc on my soul,
His language hurls daggers at my heart
I'm tortured and tormented with toxic chiding
His voice is venom from the fangs of a snake,
leaving puncture wounds, dripping with blood.
His angry words strip me bare of dignity
With each flay of his tongue, I am whipped
I'm withering like a clipped rose,
exposed to a scourge of abusive speech
What ails my heart leaves no bodily scars
I need benediction to heal my wounds
but I know the answer to my prayers
will never come from his cursed lips
And although it's not easy to forgive him,
I do because I am guilty of self-infliction.
The love I have for him is an addiction,
and for this weakness, I suffer the pain
of allowing his words to pummel my heart
again and again
August 10th, 2020
Inflictions Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
gosh, look at the time!
he's gotta go
immediately!
wherever he's headed
punctuality is a must,
he can't just go yet...
his mind
in utter disarray,
repeatedly screaming...
"where's my damn keys?!"
as he goes on a tear
for his misplaced keys,
he implores time to slow
to a c r a w l
but she gives him the kiss off.
she's laced up her running shoes
as he searches
frantically;
his inner voice...
wailing like a banshee,
ocean of tumult violently churns
in the pit of his gut.
a mouse scurrying
room to room
wreaking royal havoc;
clothes flying here and there,
the couch flipped upside down.
his impatience
giving way to panic.
meanwhile,
time's already on the run...
daring him...
" catch me, if you can!"
yet the borrowing gopher
paces around the house,
driving himself crazy, then...
he swings his front door open;
sad eureka!
there it is...
on the other side of the door
his keys dangle
in the keyhole.
time now mocking him...
he's late as can be.
As days go, this has not been one of the best
But after giving myself a good talking to
I've realized not all days are created equal
It's the lunatic fringe that are wreaking havoc
Ask anyone on the street and I'm certain
99.9% are peace loving folks who just want
To be left alone to live a happy and peaceful life
But these degenerate sub humans
Insist on carrying out these cowardly barbaric acts
Randomly attacking totally innocent people!
However, by reacting irrationally, we run the risk
Of becoming as radical and evil as these lunatics
Calmer heads MUST prevail
Hopefully one day in the not too distant future
These barbaric acts of cowardice will cease
They MUST cease in the name of all that is good!
© Jack Ellison 2015
TV news flash
New trade pact;
Bubbly economics
~~~~~~~~~
Digital movie mania
Hollywood and company;
Visual impact strikes
~~~~~~~~~
Bad weather havoc
Torrential rainy outbursts;
Flood waters invade
~~~~~~~~~
Poise in sure noise
Instant cacophony;
Chamber orchestra
~~~~~~~~~
Music floats
Harmonica melody;
Street corner performance
~~~~~~~~~
Fancy menu here
Foreign language 101;
Mystery order Must-Do
~~~~~~~~~
Wit in sure jazz
Jest in fond fest;
Birthday wishes trend
~~~~~~~~~
School talk to teens
Simple conversations;
Story telling highlights
~~~~~~~~~
Sleepy slumber steals
Conscious lamentations;
Words not included
~~~~~~~~~
Rain and more rain
Wetness everywhere;
Wet is the new dry
~~~~~~~~~
Sadness slips and slides
Rain takes all away;
Empty feelings loiter
~~~~~~~~~
Purge all reason
Ditch common logic;
Seize pure inspiration
~~~~~~~~~
Dark is the night
When light goes out;
Even sleep feels deep
~~~~~~~~~
Look to passion
To defy reason;
Let purpose fashion
~~~~~~~~~
Lone owl hoots
Somnolent gestures;
Story book ending
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
18 November 2014
Singapore
ubermench
When living in a block of flats is noisy
when a hammer and nails on walls to hang
up a painting bought at the supermarket
Hitler and Nazism interest me, it didn't die
in 1945 but grew like nestles in countries
mainly in Israel and Ukraine
After years of democracy that has ended
in a woke culture, Europe is turning right
finding a democracy that has brought
havoc like the import of millions of Muslims
bringing an alien way of life and a religion
that is as demanding as Christianity is vapid
in Ukraine, the Nazis are in power and helped
by NATO and the USA that hates Russia
for being powerful and winning
In Israel, Jewish Nazism is in full bloom
attacking and killing the Palestinians
who deemed savages, also Zionism needs
more elbow room, we have heard that
before and the people hail their leader
who has made them feel powerful shall
we say like Ubermensch.