Long Obliterate Poems
Long Obliterate Poems. Below are the most popular long Obliterate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Obliterate poems by poem length and keyword.
The greatest emotion shared
is that of Love, immeasurable
The child would say, “a whole bunch!”
The spouse would say, “till the end of time!”
God would say, “no matter what….”
(I come to you
with hands open, extended
palms upward
that we may freely
take and receive
of one another
bearing gifts
for the heart is
both lover and teacher
we awaken a new dawn
while moon and stars
are yet a horizon reflection
let not light obliterate entirely
fond mystery between us,
Freedom something only
evil need fear
I come to you
having always taken
the first steps,
those of grace
and wonder eternal)
The raging beast of fear in darkness was
Conceived
Its father: Terror
Its mother: Ignorance,
With the black milk of hate was it
Breastfed,
By wrath was it, nurtured
By fanaticism its character was forged
And
Its soul saturated was with repugnance
Thus
The deformed prince of gloom, once matured,
A menace to humanity grew up to be,
Threatening the beacon of civilization to
Extinguish by:
Terrorizing
Torturing
Burning
Raping
Enslaving
Decapitating
Executing,
All this, in the name of a God that the brute doesn’t
Even understand,
So
It demanded the whole world to kneel in dread
BUT
Humanity didn’t succumb
United, in its finest hour, marched on,
Unyielding
Unafraid
Uncompromising
Proud and
Free,
Sending thus the message to the kingdom of gloom that
Its days are numbered
For
One ray of light, mightier it is than any amount of darkness
And easily could obliterate beast’s obscure empire at a blink
Of the eye
Because
GOD is not HATE and DARKNESS
But
LIGHT and LOVE!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
16 JANUARY 2015
*In memory of those who were slaughtered by the evil children
of the beast, be they Christians, Muslims or Jews!
**Dedicated to all those who marched in Paris and elsewhere
and all those who felt In their heart, the solidarity with those who marched!
The whole world shouts: Je suis Charlie!
The Carnivore Within...
Meaty morsels besiege
this vegetarian advocate
yet, the atavistic Jainist within me decries,
egg hen hies his, and lamb hence
carnivorous ache that won't abate
case in point being on the horns
hoof ah dill ham ma, neither willing,
nor ready to abdicate
nagging, succumbing, and writhing,
asper Pavlov's dog salivation,
Ike hen not obliterate
every now and again curr raven
hunger for game, though aye abominate
hone beak able unethical abuse
delivered sans electric ham not prod,
nor pleased, when yours truly doe eth abrogate
his staunch conviction against
merciless maltreatment of animals
which doth exhaust and accelerate
environmental degradation, and realized
moo mints agoo, a temptation did accentuate
bull dozing tenuous die hard longing,
how quickly temptation,
recidivism, and predilection to accommodate,
and appease feeling mouth watering za eel
for ma ham mulls hamstrung taste, I did acclimate
and acquire ineradicable taste primal beastie boys
relished after the hunt squatting by flick ring fire
with other village people
tearing killed deer - if accurate,
nonetheless a grievance
(akin to heresy) as a traitor
Joe against fundamental aversion to reactivate
cow hard lee self betrayal caving against tenets
regarding aversion to the very business
of slaughter (houses), and I eve hen advocate
against gluten free NON GMO free ranging
creatures, who can experience pain
and suffering, some display affectionate
behaviour, plus without doubt agitate
without success to savor natural longevity,
perhaps becoming family pet,
whose tender loving (vittle) care will not alienate
said domesticated innocent
porpoise full chums
hoof found a caring home, articulate
ting compassion, tha hare fore,
a conscientious baldpate
or hirsute organic caretaker,
would neigh ver deer stirrup the roost
ruffle any tail feathers, only celebrate
affection, and mane lee horse around!
I thought I was laughing
When I was only crying
And I was trying to breathe
But found myself choking on my tears
Swimming in my fears
Too much stress
I know I’m a mess
But I don't know what comes next
Because all I am
Is not yet determined
And I think it would be easier
If it were just already set
No choice to make
Too much freedom suffocates
WHAT?!
I'm supposed to know who I am already!?
Who i want to be
Forever?!
Say I can't keep living in my dream
And life ain't as it seems
Well yeah, I know, I see that
But it's SO much easier living in my fantasy
Because in that dream
She likes who she is
How she walks, what she says
And that mirror doesn't make her wish she were dead
Her confidence is killer
But I just want it to kill me
Because this is not who I want to be
And I need to sleep
Get out of my head
Take a breath
Get some rest
I know what I need
I'm just
Hard to please
Because I should be happy
No, not because I deserve to be
But because I don't deserve to be sad
You win
If it's a competition
no, I shouldn't be sad
It's just self inflicted
See, but that's just the human condition
If we have nothing else to feel
We try to make the lies seem real
Give us something to hate
So it's not ourselves we're forced to obliterate
Existential fear abandoned for the sake of delusion
Nuclear freeze in her heart of alchemy’s shivers
Veiled shadows dancing to the echo of silence
Intemperance sounding choral confusion of fate
Rosemary scents a bunch of renegade petals
On her journey of lone pipers on terminal bugles
Never one to retreat into apathy she shouts
Mere prophesies into winds of desperate change
Egos will shatter when the last call fades into
No man’s shelter from the trap of human demise
To listen to her mute call is too dark to resist
Entropy swishes one more throw of loaded dice
Nirvana beckons at the gate of heavenly doubt
Virulent resistance comes to the court of justice
In naked despair Rosemary gathers seedlings of hope
Revolves one penultimate time on an axis of evil
Onto pyres of satanic temptation led by the snake
Nemesis confronts agonists and die-hard villains
Mutates mutiny’s prayers into eternity’s pleas
Endless contortions spin the world as we know it
Nefarious quietude rises to a challenging saviour
Thor the God of Thunder loses patience and weeps …
Encores
nibble
violet
incandescence
roasting
onslaughts’
negation
Meander
eternity’s
novel
transmission
Eureka
Naysayers
Vanquish
Irretrievable
Revulsion
Obliterate
Nebulous
Misalignment
Expunge
Noxious
Terror
19th November 2019
Flailing tendrils upon the waves;
an ancient sailor’s fear;
Leviathan rises from the watery abyss.
Red morning skies warn,
of Neptune’s wrath;
his siren daughters,
captivate and destroy the lonely seamen.
Skeletal wings beat the empty air;
foreboding shadows overhead;
the Wyvern, hunting prey.
Old legends never die;
they just shape shift,
to fit the times.
Oily, black tendrils swirl upwards,
from the ocean floor,
to poison and eradicate,
thousands of species.
Leviathan-slicks;
annihilating the oceans.
Modern day Wyverns sail the techno-skies;
drones seeking prey, who take all lives;
intentional and accidental;
no one is exempt from their appetites.
Red skies in the morning;
HAARP’s song of warning;
red tides obliterate life.
Old legends in new guises,
are easy, lethal deceit.
Alphabet war.........
A is for aggressor, they're the ones who start wars,
B is for breath, when a bullet takes yours.
C is for Chieftain, a great British tank,
D for the death in trenches so dank.
E for endowment that the army will give,
F for the funeral, in case you don't live.
G is for guns, that you carry around,
H for the heather, when you're dead on the ground.
I is identity, the tags round your neck,
J for the jangles, while on sentry you check.
K for the killer, with weapon in hand,
L for the love of your quiet homeland.
M for my mother, my mentor is she,
N is for nurture, what she did then for me.
O you obliterate, any foe you will see,
P for the pacifists, and for peace is their plea.
Q for the Queen, and her country they fight,
R is the rapier, aimed with optical sight.
S for the soldiers, who've been trained in the field,
T for the tanks, and the power they yield.
U the unexpected sights you will see,
V is for victory, and the love of the free.
W for the wounded, which I hope you stay clear,
X is for xenon and the chemicals we fear.
Y for the youths this poem may teach,
Z is for zenith, put your hands out and reach.
I love only my kind.
But a world of just
your kind would to
monotony consign you.
I celebrate just my kind.
But a world that celebrates
only you, would to the utter
depths of boredom relegate you.
I prefer just my kind.
But the preference of your kind
would your curiosity wear out.
I only recognize my world.
But a world of only you
can never its horizon broaden.
I only relish my own race.
But a world devoid of
other races would be the
most uninteresting.
My race must the entire earth occupy.
But without the 'inferior' races,
how could you 'superiority' claim?
I have a lebensraum for my
race to occupy.
A lebensraum for only you
would geography obliterate.
So let your world be yours,
and let mine be mine.
Your culture and language you
may retain, whilst mine I also
retain,
as we both our diversity
celebrate.
Because diversity is nothing
more than the spice of life.
Cajole me in the right frame of mind
For I'm vexed not because of
Personal issues but because of the
Morbid, abstract canvas of life
I'm subjected to witness, where
Groups of so-called righteous men
Drop indiscriminate bombs
On fellow humans ripping
Homes and families apart
Shedding the blood of the innocent
Then simply labeling it
Collateral damage -
Collateral damage of War
Shelling babies... collateral
Damage of war!
Then pluck out thine eyes
With two bold fingers
For I cannot bear witness
To the dislodging of families
Fleeing wildly wherever
The cold wind blows
Crossing rough seas
None with the ability of
Jesus to walk on water
Nor faith to part it like Moses
Water ...swilling with red blood
And saline stinging tears
Mothers wailing bearing
The agony in suffering
Petrified twisted faces pressed
To their wet bosoms
Fathers gnashing teeth,
Raging, panting, feeling
Like a poltroon
Powerless. Gray skies depicts
No rainbow, no promise.
Strike me down
I refuse to bear witness
Beseeching before I meet my demise,
Obliterate borders, these
Man made borders
Us with our Jingoistic attitude
Jingoistic ... flag waving
Entitlement ... displaying
Utmost xenophobia
The mantra mocking
Go home, go home, go
Home - face your fate
On your homeland soil
Drenched and soaked in blood.
I shiver terrifically in my skin
What if it was me ... you
In those weathered skin
Under the moon and stars
Branded a refugee, worthless
Vulnerable, famished, weak
Motivated by hope to
Overcome barriers and borders
And when pruned fleshed
Feet imprint the coarse sand
There's no child in hand
Swallowed up by the gluttonous sea
Let hell's bells drone on
When dastardly Superpowers drop
Nasty bombs on the innocent
Butchering, maiming ... moribund
Then labeling it collateral damage
Cajole me in the right frame of mind
For I will go stark raving mad.
© 2015 Denise Morgan
he watched …
as it fell to the slate floor
glinting its polished golden husk in the
late morning sun
it should’ve bounced, as any
ring would of normalcy
but this, it was NOT …
leagues and lifetimes from it, actually
its behavior betraying the
dark matter within
as it landed with a single loud thud -
‘too loud’, he thought, as he
watched his dear little friend turn and
trudge away down the shire path …
he stood static to the floor
head dipped and eyes peering suspiciously at
it over half-lens spectacles -
as if looking at the devil himself
(not far from the truth) …
and after an overlong consideration
he stooped slowly and reached,
pausing a moment
(more debate)
then pinched it between thumb and
forefinger to lift it from the floor
but … it stuck …
he pulled harder, then harder yet
and finally picked it off the stone tile -
with much too much effort afforded an
object of its diminutive size
and this, as he placed it on the mantle beside him
(leering at it all the more)
quite disturbed him …
so, as was his usual custom at such
concerning moments
he ‘humphed’ to himself,
sat down on a leather hassock behind him
and dug his pocket, deep …
another pinch, this one unseen, and out
came a wad of Old Toby
straight into his churchwarden pipe
and lit with care -
weed-scented brume rings circling
his straggly silver locks
and disappearing high into the
shadowed eaves
along with his now shadowy thoughts …
this simple gold ring had
no simple history
this was a dark object of malevolent intent
forged in the fiery bowels of Mt Doom
and melded with an evil power to
obliterate all such talismans that
had come before it
and all to be made hence
he knew its history well, as any
wizard of import would
and he knew with dreadful certainty
that his life AND his path had now
changed in a troubling and
sobering way,
and that nothing in his once bright and
enjoyable existence
would ever again …
be the same.