Long Smash Poems
Long Smash Poems. Below are the most popular long Smash by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Smash poems by poem length and keyword.
This large human ghetto,
millions and millions enslaved,
within stony walls of beliefs,
man-made political doctrines,
cultures and societal rules,
God breathes in every body,
but machines control breathing,
nature is stamped, marketed,
water is bought and sold!
turn the wheels to earn your bread,
shackled throughout life!
by God’s permission, you may enter,
by God’s will, you may leave,
but have to live by human rules,
in this stony walled ghetto!
body yearns for freedom,
heart screams for love,
dehumanised in this ghetto,
by the ruling demonic few!
will no one smash these stony walls,
liberate us from iron cuffs?
rip and burn those ruling pages,
that indoctrinate fear!
let man be part of nature,
as he is born to be!!
let us create a future new world,
where fear does not rule!
where happiness is free for all,
and laughter, love
are taught in school!
Written: December 12, 2023, For Shadow Hamilton Contest
_______________________________________
People can only thrive on this wealth scale
With undying faith, we admire our flag
Sullen calm and dearth of prowess prevail.
Just few people groove stanch affluence gale
whilst most all strive tough with null in the bag
People can only thrive on this wealth scale.
We are rivaled with a stern choice trial
A person's rank is viewed by his wealth tag
Sullen calm and dearth of prowess prevail.
Trading rule exceeds all neat deals for sale
Where smash checkers are, indeed, rulers slag
People can only thrive on this wealth scale.
There is a fictive guise dubbed classless tale
Though, our right of recourse has little brag
Sullen calm and dearth of prowess prevail.
With their bogus pledge to clear off our lag
A plush caste is riding blindly as swag
People can only thrive on this wealth scale
Sullen calm and dearth of prowess prevail.
Josh’s drinking days were long behind him. The three beers he drank before ordering his meal; the two beers he drank during his meal; and, the two Bailey’s he consumed after his meal had taken their effect on the middle-aged man. He talked incessantly to the bartenders, bothered the two young ladies who sat at the bar a few stools away and staggered back and forth to the men’s room a dozen times.
Finally, reluctantly, after many hours had passed, Josh paid his tab, leaving a generous, alcohol influenced tip and wobbled out the door. Not sure which direction to go to return to his hotel, Josh simply started off down the street, still thinking about his wife.
How much time passed is unclear, but he was many blocks away when he suddenly realized he was not wearing his fedora. Josh did an about-face and tried to retrace his steps to the bar and bar stool where he knew his hit sat waiting for him. Josh walked into and out of a number of bars he mistook for the one he dined in. Although he was fooled by the outside facades, once he stepped in, he knew it was the wrong bar.
When Josh finally stumbled upon the bar that he recognized as the one he had dined in, it was closed and the doors were locked. It was 3:00 am.
Tears came to Josh’s eyes. Josh felt as if losing the hat his wife had given him was a harbinger of the end and he was not ready to reach that point. Josh simply had to retrieve that hat. He had to get his wife back. Somewhere, deep down in his drunken soul, Josh mustered up the strength to lift the city trash can from the corner of the street and smash it through the large glass window in front of the bar – he was oblivious to the alarms that started blaring.
Josh managed to crawl into the bar through the broken window unaware of the glass shards cutting his wrists, stomach and throat. The moister from the blood simply mixed with the moister from his sweat. The numbness and anesthetic nature of the abundance of alcohol he was not used to masked the extent of his injuries.
When the police arrived on the scene, Josh was found in the darkness, clutching his fedora at the foot of the stool where he had eaten his dinner.
Josh’s wife received the phone call later that morning announcing his passing.
He was buried with the fedora.
We are those pretty baubles:
the most delicate ornaments
that folks hang on a big or small Christmas Tree!
Kids pull us down and that's naughty;
they make us roll down the carpet...
until they smash us with their toes!
What have we done to deserve this awful fate?
We hope that this season won't bring us any woes!
Handle us with care, we are too fragile...
a gleeful Christmas we offer with our beauty;
our colors remind of green hammocks, red and white roses;
yellow daffodils waving in spring fields that make poets smile!
We wish not to be taken down: our image is never dreary;
be kind to us, we'll give off gleams that the winter's moon loves!
Pretty baubles never get fluffy snowflakes,
or get blown away by a wind that steadily drifts;
they continue to awe all with their loveliness...
come closer and make your lovely wishes!
Written on 12/17/2016
6/9/22
Apparently far from tacit
Near endless racket
In day light and pitch blackness
For the sane and those in strait jackets
Dammit
Still sporadic
Caught in transit
Can't rely on magic
Nor give up when it all turns tragic
It's just madness
Even though I feel low and nearly at my saddest
I don't care about any bracket
Or what all is on this pamphlet
I've no intentions to read 'Hamlet"
What the happened?
A world obsessed with gadgets like tablets
Most act like they're above you and in their own palace
Becoming cold and callous
No matter, I shall handle this
No need for prayers and candlesticks
You may be an addict
Following the same old habits
But it is something you can kick
And quit
Occasionally worked with a mallet
As well as pallets
Sometimes had dinner with shallots
Just trying to maintain my balance
Mentally it's a challenge
The same can be said for honing talents
It's bat
Still all this bad
Across the planet
It's not all written in stone, aka granite
Looking at it
From the entire gamut
Instead of a single facet
I don't care about party affiliation, like being Democratic
Quit being so dramatic
It's fixable, far from problematic
You'll regret it, if it turns to static
Because you will be turned to ash quick
By a device made of metal and plastic
Won't be much left for a casket
It's hard to make a classic
And smash hit
I'd like to mine for agates
I already buried the hatchet
For now enjoying the view of the Aurora Borealis
While drinking out of a Titanium Chalice
Good intentions not full of malice
Still looking for my Alice
It's a rainy night
So cold and so wet
Under a streetlight
Two black ravens silhouette
What are they up to
Why are they there
As they stare at my window
In precision glare
Have they come for me
Has the reaper spoken
Is my life on this earth
No longer a token
The rain gets heavier
As their plumage deflects
They sit their patiently
Am i their select
As i sit by my window
I drift off to sleep
To a dark world i enter
Full of ravens, and bleak
I find myself
In a room with no view
Not even a door
So what did i come through
On the floor i sit
Surrounded by dark
I shout to the space
Stark
I shudder awake
And at the window i see
Two black ravens
Staring at me
In blind panic
I lash out at the glass
My hands go through
As my wrists cut in the smash
My blood drains from me
As my eyes start to close
In delirium drift
Were they ravens or crows
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss-4.php
Nature watches
Nature waits
Nature wants you to grow.
For you, right now nature relates
The mist rises in the morning
Burning into the blue by the heat from the sun
The beautiful morning light
Nature’s day has begun
See a leaf falling
See a buzzard soar
See a tree preparing for winter
Nature loves us all so much, everyone one and all
The moon harnesses light from the burning sun
The tides bow to the moon
The sun breathes life with its light
Something magical lives outside your room
Close your eyes and just listen to the waves if you’re near to the sea
Listen to the night animals calling, it’s a privilege you see.
Listen to the geese fly over hidden in the dark of the sky.
Hear a barn owl call in the dead of the night.
Look for something special in your garden or today just touch a leaf on a tree
Natures out there waiting for you to find the way to feel free.
Nature plays with beauty and power
Don’t try to make sense of it all
You’ve never been impressed with a wave smash or a storm of thunder call?
Play a tune to the whistling winds
See the majesty of the fading night light
In every breath that you take nature lives in your life.
It matters not she said.
What we do.
No one cares.
I picked a snail off the sidewalk and hid it in the grass
knowing the four-year-old might smash it.
No one listens, she said.
No one cares.
I don’t matter.
I knew she was fishing, but I was tired of playing this game.
It is a cyclical conversation she has with everyone.
I took her daughter’s hand and we began to skip.
Stacy giggled, delighted.
I try to give her as much joy as I can.
Understanding what living with her mother must be like.
We stopped to make dandelion tiaras.
I brushed her hair and she leaned over and kissed me.
Her mother rolled her eyes. Why can’t you be serious? She asked.
Did she not realize that we were actually doing things that matter.
While all she is doing is talking about the opposite things?
“Kill a man, and you are a murderer. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a god.”
- Jean Rostand
Behold, when the old woman woke up
Then all around are filled with ruinous world,
With blood-stained body watching the procession of death scene
Seeing the child crying, it is understood that he has lost everything
Postmodern ravenous robotic vultures are flying on the sky
Gulping voraciously all altruistic groaning as if enjoyable pie
For the hideous sound of hostile war between home land and abroad soldiers
Now all become deaf, dumb and blind in fearing of cold-blooded superpowers
The old in traumatized and impaired speech
With devastated eyes moans – Where, O Peace!
Yes
The world is engaged in demonstrations of the best scientific energy
Who cares about the costly meaningless war of the imperialist’s key!
If the soldier dies become great martyr,
If he survives become godly warrior!
Public - the meaningless fat of a democratic constitutional body;
Increasing-decreasing them, is miracle of superpower leader’s fee!
Valiant hero-just for warrior of homeland but traitor for the conflicting country
War-elite merchant scheme; extreme revolution - just destruction, clash worldly
In these inhumane sense who listens to whom, who understands whose language
The one who has power is also the ruler, is also constitutional creator of all smash!
If the war destruction unveils any new creation; if this constitutes any peace
Why so delay? Kill, kill mass, be a hero; kill all, be God; be a war prayer beast!
© Mahtab Bangalee
March 03, 2022
Chattogram
The blur was green or maybe grey
That past his turgid senses flashed.
The skin would burst soon anyway,
All his tastes and visions smashed.
Grey or green, most perplexing, yes.
The membrane full, his senses stretched.
To smash the wall would cause a mess,
He'll look and search, with nothing fetched.
Green or grey, but could be blue,
Now the cover will surely burst.
An idea, but what to argue?
Must determine the colour first.
Grey or green, did he see a pink?
There's something missed or maybe hopped.
It's now he teeters on the brink.
Be careful now, it could have popped.
"O, joy", he cries, he's found it out,
Not pure and single colours seen.
The pressure's gone, a welcome spout,
He's stemmed again what should've been.