Long Imploded Poems

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


An Ode To 911

Each Twin Tower encased in steel bower
Billowing masts did to horizon crest, as the fibrous 
sunflower
Wrought to withstand the shearing winds and the 
mightiest shower
A symbol of America's limitless capital and economic 
power
Perched on the precipice of greatness until 911's 
sentient hour
In a prescient moment, steel caissons did the steel 
girders scour
Mighty sentinels of the skyline succumbed to a roaring 
stour
In the dust-swept corridors, the shell-shocked 
remnants did cower
Anon, as residual to the surface imploded; exploded a 
national fervor
As free enterprises' symbols crumbled in New York's 
harbor
A wave of national pride rumbling across the fruited 
plains did succor
With steeled nerves and stealthy acumen did lab our
Our tarnished symbols of freedom to defend with 
unblemished might, valor
In faraway lands, in shielded hovels, bastions; tracked 
enemy with vigor
With soaring wings and pounding hooves, girded with 
invincible armor
Did fleece the brigand cowards restoring the nation's 
honor
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Mob Rule

Mob Rule
Tom’s Opinion
July 16, 2020

Today mob rule is taking over our nation,
its time for those in charge, to grow a backbone.
Street mob rule must be brought to cessation,
turning a blind eye signals that they condone.

An era of mob rule is taking over some cities,
by wiping out history a way of life is corroded.
Done under the guise of showing others our pities,
we’ll soon find ourselves as a nation imploded.

The time was chosen when in a survival mode,
for progressives to push their new paradigm.
Oversensitive lawbreakers alleging their owed,
blatherskite doesn’t work, for action it’s past time.


History is, what it was; our ansestors weren’t perfect.
good or bad we can’t change the past.
We can review it, learn from it, and be better because of it.
Tom
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Anguishing Love

This is torture,
Everytime he looks into my eyes my heart receives another puncture,
And needs yet another suture,
What an anguishly sweet mixture,
For my heart, the completely broken fixture.

He spoke to me,
And my speech seized,
My heart rapidly increased speed,
And my breathing completely ceased,
And with one wink my soul released.

He smiled at me and my joy exploded,
My legs folded,
And my strength imploded,
His smile withered and scalded,
It screamed "Watch out this love machine is loaded."

He touched me and set my body and soul aquiver,
He is such a pleasure giver,
He burst into my heart and soul through nothing more than a sliver,
He snuck up from behind and engulfed me in shivers,
And he gave me an explosive fever.

He gave me his beautiful heart,
And that was the start,
I knew from then on we would never part,
He proved he was unequivically smart,
Because at that moment I forever gave him my heart.

He told me he loved me and stole my breath away,
He stole away the November's gray,
And brought to me the warmest day in May,
He promised he would stay,
 And from now own he will be my hero, my lover, and my soul mate until my dying day.
Form: Rhyme

Crack House of the 13 Gables

I wrote a great book, part memoir, part novel
Shopped it around, I ain’t too proud to grovel
Got kicked upstairs to a big publishing head
He invited me in, and here's what was said:

This screed you call Crack House of the 13 Gables
Is one long rant mixed with recycled fables
It wanders aimlessly, but never resolves
Characters pop out of nowhere, then simply dissolve

But the symbolism, sir, allow me to explain
The Victorian parlor represents pathos and pain
In the attic are mothballed broken dreams and betrayals
It's gonna shift your paradigm right off its rails

It’s a thousand-page odyssey into the surreal
The hedge maze is where all 14 sub-plots congeal
Enough! The only reason I called you in, punk
Is to meet the lunatic who scribbled this junk

So I slunk away, not a little dejected
Ain’t much fun being literarily rejected
Trudged back to my grueling, stale coffee grind
Working 15-hour days, going out of my mind

Then one day I met an old pal for some beers
Hadn't seen him in quite a few years
I told him about my rejection slip wrangle
He said buck up, you just need the right angle

I like reading novels, now don’t get me wrong
But writin' 'em, man, that just takes too damn long
And what a huge risk, 16 years you devoted
For no payday at all, just your ego imploded

There's no need to pen the next Moby Dick
Try something short, now that is the trick!
So, I thanked my friend for his most sage advice
And took it to heart without thinkin' thrice

And now I am back as a voice for the ages
Except I'm makin' my mark in far fewer pages
I write sound bites and maxims and pithy remarks
T-shirt slogans and jokes, I just do on a lark

I bang out poems and lyrics at the drop of a hat
Dash off 17 syllables in ten seconds flat

Haikus by the bunch
Cook up a batch before lunch
Put that in your pipe

____________________________

For Humor Contest
Sponsored by: Carol Eastman
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member V Vogonized-------

Vogon is zgone signs nhow wonder as they wander ye
The ships have imploded, muted mouths misspoken be
Capturedra  are the humanity they look like cus
Just like us, splicky lick
Just like us
Just like cus
Entrustedstream being rebirtheded
 Cloned and disrob Brrr tikzzzzz burrrruunnn
Stazzz zaaaa baa 
Slitarzzzzzre
ed  nakeded
V
Vavaaa stusorrrrr ti themmmm brrr
Vavaaa stusorrrrr ti themmmm brrr
Brrr tikzzzzz burrrruunnn
Stazzz zaaaa baa 
Slitarzzzzzre
V
Vavaaa stusorrrrr
Vavaaa stusorrrrr ti themmmm brrr
Brrr tikzzzzz burrrruunnn
Juzz lik uz inseminated
Brrr tikzzzzz burrrruunnn
Stazzz zaaaa baa 
Slitarzzzzzre
Vogonnnnnnnn
Sunnsabloom siar to to the plantnip
Cubbledum brawny snar bliss
V vogonizedzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Placed N under spaced!

9/14/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©


Premium Member The Power of the Wind

A family portrait lies in the middle of the street
amongst cars now upside down;
Piles of rubbish as far as the eyes can see
in what once was a Midwestern town.

Sirens blasts preceded the train-like roar
by only a quarter of an hour;
as the funnel cloud dropped out of the eerie gray sky
on the town it would devour.

Tornadoes show no favoritism,
destroying bars and churches alike;
ripping roofs off homes and businesses -
whipping them around like paper kites.

Electrical wires exploded and homes imploded;
thousands of screams that nobody heard –
just the roar of the twister, and believe my mister,
the fear that you feel cannot be put into words.

Red Cross tents are still a few hours away
as people start uncovering from the debris;
in what now looks like a beautiful day
individual straws of hay stuck in the sides of a tree.

People start counting fingers and toes
and seeking out family members;
Worldly belongings of an entire community
mixed together in the tornado’s embers.

A number of towns have shared this fate
throughout the US Midwest;
and through each and every reoccurrence of this
religious beliefs are put to the test.

Neighbors pull together; help comes from near and far;
the rebuilding will shortly begin –
but anyone who has ever lived through this
will never forget the power of the wind.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Walking Corpse

Blackened romance
Corroded my heart
Eroded my self-confidence
Imploded my reality

Jaded age
Defined a decade
Designed my damnation
Resigned to loneliness

Poison damage
Races through my blood
Chases the youthful high
Places me on the gallows pole

Happiness is fleeting
Retreating at the first obstacle
Defeating my delight
Depleting my will to live

A cacaphony of calamity
Insanity is doing it over and over
In vanity is a priceless sin
Inhumanity, oh what a burden

The youth in me is dead
Led astray by toxic attractions
Fed by those who made me hate myself
Shed a tear for I never had a chance

Premium Member Compounds and Elements

   


             Compounds and Elements


It's painful to recall my so head full or rocks.
Inorganic chemistry was for me, plain, mysterious bedrock!

Luckily my chemistry partner must have been from heaven sent. 
To me, with a brain made of rock hard cement.

Fires I started and experiments exploded!
My professor stared at me~ I saw his mind being imploded.

This was at Loyola University in Chicago,that's right near the lake.
I think I prayed at night for God my soul to take!

I was sure I was going to fail this course.
I stared at my student nurse's face with total remorse.

The day for final grades,so horribly came,
I figured he would fail this dizzy dame.

To the professor's office I went with my knees knocking.
I was about to learn something totally shocking.

He was such a sweet, short, lovely man sitting, 
with a smile on his face.
I had the feeling, perhaps I would not be disgraced!

" I know how good a nurse you will be.
  So I decided not to fail you, but give you a D!"

Happy as a lark,as grateful, as can be.
I went to our Madonna De La Strada Chapel, thanking the 
Lord for sending this compassionate professor to me.



                  July 28, l2020
                  4pm  PST

This is a factual account of some of the
best days of my life at Loyola.
   "Ad Majorem Dei Gloria"
Form: Couplet

Premium Member I Was a Soldier

I was a soldier of the past 
And I know im not the last
I signed up to serve my Queen
Far off lands I have seen

As that soldier I done my best
Losing friends laying them to rest
We fought for what was only right
Giving freedom to others at night

As bullets flew and bombs exploded
 My thoughts and mind just imploded
I could not say I wasn't scared
But my vision was not impaired

The smell of cordite all around
Waiting for the alarm to sound 
Then the order of stand fast
Hoping this attack would not last

They come at us with all they have
Rpgs and a Gustav 
We hold firm and do not falter
It's not our turn at the alter

Be brave young man I have to shout 
As the young man does scream out
I've been hit this is bad
I wish I was with my mum and dad

It's ok you will be fine
It's a promise that is mine
The bombardment ends and we look up
Let's sort this out my young pup

Gingerly we give first aid
That is why we get paid 
We stretcher him out to the heli pad
In a few days he's  with mum and dad

After a while I go to see
That young soldier who layed before me
He's up and about and full of cheer
Winks at me we go for a beer

For those guys that didn't survive 
We raise a glass cuddle and cry 
For all the new guys on your career
Wish you well I got your ear.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Crack In the Poets Mirror

Words drained, blood empty. 
Liquid poets imploded, 
Poured and stained upon each page,  
Given to the superficial sacrifice of meaning.
There is no truth 
Which we did not participate in making;
Ours for the taking
In downward spiral steps contrived.
All stars our own to swim,  
All space our whim.
Our standard stopped. 
Desires dropped
Intermittent fires out 
Behind the eye of every host. 
Fighting memory, now a ghost 
Encased in stones. 
Trading one another; 
Slingshot yo-yos born 
To farthest reaches.
Each annoyance adding 
To the proof of scales.
We wear them as a cloak, 
Then shed their skin.
Our new man never comes. 
The old, erupted once; always 
Hung by tinsel strands and strung
Upon a pleasured dome 
That some call home,
Yet we dream a coming dawn.
Carriages and motored monuments 
Stilled in rarer moments, filled 
With each ones essence.
Dwindling our quality of existence 
Until we meet at dawn 
That man who never comes,
To walk the earth 
In shoes that never were.
Form: Rhyme

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