Long Retaliation Poems
Long Retaliation Poems. Below are the most popular long Retaliation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Retaliation poems by poem length and keyword.
I am destruction
The fervor of my fiery temper wreaks havoc upon ignition
Sparked and left ablaze to drift, knowing only to burn
If you ignite me, I will stop you
I forsake the very ground that feeds me,
betraying my kin with pollution
My mother Earth and brother Air, the reasons I sustain
If you trust me, I will disappoint you
I reach the peak of heat to call you from its threshold,
sending signals of longing to be put out
I tease with the ability to purify
If you desire me, I will have you
My flames all but whisper in your ear,
but try to tame and provoke my ruthless retaliation
For I suffocate if confined
If you touch me, I will hurt you
My sincere moments of warmth on bitter cold nights,
imbalanced in the ash that trails behind me
I won't cease to consume all that lies in my path
melting metal and flesh, filling chimneys and lungs, in pursuit of more
If you get too close... I will burn you
Never fully hidden in the shadows of my mind
Are things I do not speak of for they are no longer important
But they used to be things I dwelled on,
situations and people who hurt me.
Slights so tiny, others might not have noticed.
But I was super aware of teachers who were speaking
of me in a mean way. And there were several for
I was never easy with them or on them.
Catching their mistakes.
Making them super angry.
No one can get anyone angry faster than me.
For I do not like injustice or rudeness and I will
call anyone on it. Always have, always will.
And adults are not always fair because they
do not realize they have time for fairness.
Retaliation is hell, and adults are vindictive.
My childlike pains brilliantly fling themselves
into paintings, cartoons and poetry
for I remember meanness and unkindness.
I remember pinched and angry faces.
I remember being taken advantage of because
I was a mere child. How dare I! How dare them!
I do not dwell on it, but I am
easily hurt. Especially young little, child me.
Because I did not hurt others, and
did not expect to be taken advantage of for my
for my naivety and my insane
crazy need for fairness but I was.
Sun rise; it's a new day
A new day,same people
Mentality proceeds to be different;
Ugly. YES! ugly mentalities
Activities normal,streets flocked
Freedom is real, no restrictions and rules followed
Partial difference, probably tribe
Justice...peace...it is what it is
Smoke in the air,instantly
Wails invades the environment
Streets converted to racing fields;
Disorganized race,everyone is a champion
Peace lovers turn to perpetrators
Retaliation given birth to
Democracy! democracy! democracy...
Where are the democrats?
Scramble and partition reborn
Resistance movement rooting again
It was white against black those days
Now it is black against black
Brothers form conspiracies...
Blood against blood
Dreams are always valid,nightmares too
Dry land is now muddy;red mud
Corpses dominates the streets
The living become unpopular
Death is now a celebrity
Gunshots topping music charts
Lawmakers to lawbreakers
Leaders to misleaders
Presidents to dictators
The age of revolution is here
Prisons,
like slavery,
and economic and political prostitution,
are rooted in unfortunate histories
of criminal choices.
Criminal behaviors
are rooted in revenge
and fear
and anger
and insanely aggressive feelings
of entitlement,
bad faiths in superior wants and isolating needs.
Retaliation
is rooted in blame.
Blame
is rooted in guilt.
Guilt
is rooted in shame.
Shame
is rooted in insufficiency,
poverty,
feelings of marginal value,
remedial weaknesses.
Lack of value
for healthy life,
for all lives,
is rooted in circles of perpetual retribution
for lack of cooperative integrity.
Lack of spiraling integrity
is rooted in tolerance for habitual failures
to love sufficiently,
publicly and privately,
socially and personally,
naturally and spiritually.
Failures of love
are rooted in abundance of memorized terror.
Terror
is rooted in histories of trauma.
Trauma
is rooted in lack of restorative therapy.
Lack of effective, necessary, sufficient, optimizing therapies
is rooted in prisons
viewed as fitting resolutions for others' crimes
rather than criminalizing problems,
personal and public sufferings,
loss,
failures of sufficient social integrity.
THOU ART THAT That That I AM-
" Lo grounds mind spirit soul
Nothing will I allow
To separate me from me and my God
Substances praise or worship
Acceptance parade
Whom am I
How am I
Whom am I patterned after
Tit for that
Imagining what
Some wind midst the soil
In return I equivalents
Retaliation in emotional service
I am I that I am
I am of that
That I am
THOU ART THAT That That I AM-
I am one with one
I am
Thou art that
What I wroth
I am set
I am that I am
Set apart atop the grounds
Made of soil
With a heart and soul
That, which I am
I am
Behold I relate
To the all knowing
THOU ART THAT That That I AM-
Ongoing
You to are I am
I am you are
Tat tvam asi
I relate to a almighty
I exist because of I am
One of the same?
Maybe?
Supreme divine
Intertwined
I am set
I am that I am
Set apart atop the grounds
THOU ART THAT That That I AM-
Made of soil
With a heart and soul
That, which I am
I am
Behold I relate
To the all knowing
Ongoing
You to are I am
I am you are
Tat tvam asi
Nothing will I allow
To separate me from me and my God
THOU ART THAT That That I AM-"
7/30/21 2021©
For Tat Tvam Asi Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker |
The old man…who has lived long…who has seen this a hundred times before
was asked, “What he thinks is the saddest part of war?”
“The tragedy of war,” the old man said, “amid the destruction, the death…the screams
is what it does to the children…specifically to their dreams.”
Before the war children’s dreams are pure and innocent…and free…
Before the war children dream of a world they’d like to see.”
“A world of toys and candy…where only rain and sunshine fall from up above.
A peaceful world filled with family, laughter, friendship…a world of tenderness and love.”
After the war…their dreams have changed…their childhood dreams have ceased
Now…as they remember the death and the destruction…
they no longer dream of peace.
They are no longer those same children,
young and innocent and small…
now they dream of revenge…
of retaliation…
of retribution…
if they are still alive or dare to dream at all.
The saddest part of war, the old man said…
is when the children’s dreams no longer harmlessly and naively soar….
it’s when their dreams…once so innocent and free…
now turn to dreams of war.”
For when dreams of family and love and laughter
dreams of toys and candy…and peace…
turn to dreams of war…
then wars will never cease.
Day One
The bomb when it fell sent the planet to hell
With unrestrained retaliation
The damage was done and the end had begun
With no hope of human salvation
I woke with a scream from that God awful dream
And took my wife into my arms
My thoughts were of lust but she crumbled to dust
And she didn’t respond to my charms
_____
Week Two
The landscape is stark for the ash cloud is dark
And the grass doesn’t grow any more
Few creatures can feast since the fire from the east
Made nothing as good as before
Then came acid rain, that again and again
Burned our skin til it was raw
But if there’s an upside, we now can go outside
The rain doesn’t burn anymore
_____
Year Three
The sidewalks I walked, where good neighbours talked
Are tangled with undergrowth, new
Those neighbours are gone but the heat lingers on
In an atmosphere no longer blue
The place that we once called ‘The city’
Is now thick with ferns, shrubs and trees
As I made a sound, a deer stood its ground
For nowadays no beast ever flees
From what I can see, he eats better than me
My nutrition comes out of a can
This jungle now covers this land, sea to sea
And nothing is scared of a man
_____
Year Ten
Surviving the blast gave the old man a laugh
Until the the Big C hit his bones
His loss has cut Earth’s population in half
I buried him with the unknowns
So now I’m the one to relate what was done
And document how man survived
An earnest presumption that soon came unspun
Ash shadows cannot be revived
_____
Year Twenty
Who might have guessed that the jabs in my chest
Would go unattended by drugs
My diet, I guess, would never impress
As I eat mostly baked beans and bugs
_____
Year — who’s counting?
So, this has been me; last man standing
My journey and journal now done
I leave this world to its rebranding
A process that’s long since begun
It seems I’ve been less than observant
For with these last breaths I have seen
That I, the last human, shall bid my farewell
To a new world that’s vibrant and green
Just one dusk at the terminus,
the hourglass will shatter.
No more pain,
no more suffering,
just the silence
of a penance without sentence.
My feelings,
a procession of punishments.
My condolences
to all those victims
who drowned their vigilance
in the bowels of negligence.
No allegiance
to the urgencies of decadence.
The decay of my celestial spark
sanctifies its own downfall.
I am nothing but a coffin
of indelible scars,
bound to vanish into the darkness of the void.
I have known
the insolence of opulence.
I have tasted
the delights of misery.
My impure hands
have strangled innocence,
far from the spotlight
of condescension.
They learned
to cut hard drugs
to beautify the nightmares
of ill-omened birds.
I still have ammonia
in my brain,
baking soda
on my knuckles.
I learned
to handle weapons of war
in pine-covered forests.
I still smile
when I hear a Kalashnikov
sing the sinister symphonies
of retaliation.
I’ve never pleaded guilty
nor howled beneath flashing lights.
I absorbed
all the lessons of omertà
and the laws of the penal code.
My hair turned white
on a body battered
by irreversible damage.
I wish annihilation
upon all my enemies,
declared or disguised.
I adore darkness,
like those condemned
on death row.
I grew up
in the paradise of savagery,
under a bleak sky.
I bicker every day
with the devil,
over the rent
for my place in hellfire.
A few broken hearts.
My offspring
are scattered across the Earth.
I am a Sub-Saharan immigrant,
in love with freedom.
I did not come
to spread the good news
of brotherhood.
My phallus is circumcised
and I don’t eat pork—
just like Christ.
No money,
no equality:
humans
are not all equal,
even if the reaper
resets the counters to zero.
I am eloquent and elegant
like my demons.
I’ve traumatized my ghosts
with the clarity of a psychopath
with sociopathic ambitions.
I love to change time zones
for sunny beaches,
when the accounts are in the green.
I’ve had the chance
to wander across four continents.
I am a chameleon
with skin rich in melanin.
I am not intelligent,
I’ve just travelled a lot.
Ronald Rump reasonably roasted
Remarkable – recourse retaining rickety
rambling reverence regarding “r.”
Ronald Rump
repugnant racist republican reviled -
rickettsia re:itch ruler.
Rapaciously ravaged
revered reverential rubric.
Radical ruthless renegade
rapidly riotously ripped rigged ramparts.
Refrained retaining remnant
redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
Riches rudely ruptured rooted rectified rights.
Ruckus ricocheted revenant reign.
Ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
Rambunctious rapscallions rollicked;
rendered ruinous ramifications.
Rusty razor razing revenge rented reprisal.
Rabid rectal rictus rotten
rebranded re-calibrated redoubt.
Rambunctious revolutionaries rejoiced.
Ruffians rode roughshod
routing reigning royalty.
Reiterated revetting robust recidivist rationality.
Rode Rolls Royce relentlessly
rendering rock ribbing.
Riffraff raconteur raised reactionary response.
Revisited rancorous restrictive
redlined realigned rightward rivets.
Robocop ridiculously
rubber-stamped reorganization.
Recalcitrant reactors released rapture.
Rash Russian roulette
reconnaissance raconteurs racked rubles.
Red room reflected Republican RNA.
Rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats
revoked righteous refulgent repertory.
Rapier robed robbers ransacked
reliquary resounding retaliation.
Retaliatory redcoat regnum
reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiled rapprochement
raison d'être rosily revered
rifled relics raffled.
Rookie raves ripe rackful
rubenesque reliably ranked.
Refulgent rotundity requisite
requirement re: reappointment.
Road-tested, roadworthy
redeem reapportion routed role.
Reprehensible reassignment
rapidly recognizes response.
Rife rampage removed respectability – respect.
Responsible roused restitution refuted.
Risky resultant reconnoitering
runaway railroad reverberated rivalry.
Reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirmed
redoubling ridding revitalization.
Reconfiguration realpolitik reinstated repudiation
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
Requisition required resilient reseeding republic.
Regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing.
Rare recount restoring recondite
renown reprobate Rapunzel.
Republican representatives
rejoice reclaiming reins.
I thought for so long you were my good friend,
trusted you with a faithful mind without any doubt,
but in the difficult times I didn’t find you by my side,
saw instead the mask you wore fall discarded in debris.
Your senses became the fast spreading wild fire of hatred,
uncontrolled, it smoldered the motif of your intrinsic quality,
and as it flared up, it burned my gentle demeanor,
its viciousness blazed the bonhomie of our bonding chords.
The scruple of your sane senses turned into cinder,
erupting out of the fuming abhorrent chamber,
flew in the spreading smoke of stifling spite,
tearing the threads of reason you lost, I didn’t know why.
I didn’t run away utterly dejected from you to self-heal,
or being despondent, sought shelter in the den of disdain,
nor did I ignite within me another flame of revulsion
to treat you the way you did me, and feel good in retaliation.
As one fire can’t ever extinguish or contain another fire,
for they burn together the shrinking space of restrain,
I faced you with self-assured confident calm mind-set,
for the serenity of my soul your hate couldn’t perturb.
The flow of forgiveness stream emanated from within me
as the embracing nectar of divine fountain.
Emerging empathy drenched me with cool shower,
while the tender touch of absolution doused the fire.
In the space of bruised essence that slowly transformed,
I felt the benign breeze of prudent composure blow.
I arose from the ashes of fond feelings burned by your hate
to send from my tolerant heart friendly good wishes to you.