Long Terrorism Poems

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


The Time That Is Moving Round Me Now 1 - 3

1
some are going ahead
some are going back 

having my fingers wielded 
on an old type-writer
i’m thinking what should i do 

a pretty long time passed away
since the village alphabet 
had bade me farewell 

in my recent thinking 
there is a severe harikiri 

the song 
that i have sung in a deep forest 
in front of the wild flowers 

now when i am sitting  
under the ceiling-fan 
of the heaven 

i can see that both 
the lyric and the tune of the song 
have vanished


 2
this morning 
i’ve woke up little earlier 
to observe the dawn 

the flags of my behaviour 
are posted in the grass-land 
around me 

no one should take them 
as the handkerchiefs of 
a demon 

a group of people is harvesting 
the paddy of the spring-season 

i too join them to remember 
the water-game of the ducks 

i’m speaking less 
or keeping mum 

but there remains so many topics 
to be discussed 

the battle of the ballots… 
the global recession… 
the climate-change…
the terrorism…
the joint-force…
 

 3
i’ve made a thorough discussion 
with myself 

so many arguments which lead to 
even so much fighting 

i see that there has been not 
much lamentation or brooding  
not much grief or sorrow 
not much tension or anxiety 
of my own 

all the time 
surrounding me only is a grey 
non-attachment 
and a joy sans any emotion 

then i think 
if the rose can forget its sorrow and distress 
why should I remember them 
with so much pain and pancreatic problems


Premium Member Scalding Reality

Every day...in fact, every 15 minutes,
someone, somewhere in America
picks up a gun and kills another person
for reasons unfathomable

It's a harsh, scalding reality...

Every now and then in our society
someone who shouldn't have an assault rifle,
takes it to school, or into a bar, a shopping mall
and starts using people as target practice

It's madness; a new normal!

Cowardly captains of complacency 
in Washington continue to kick the can
down the road and feign interest 
in gun reforms. Their cavalier disregard... 

for domestic terrorism is beyond the pale!

Gridlock in the Senate means more casualties
from mass shootings in the future and GOP
politicians will keep playing armchair psychiatrists, 
tagging the next active shooter as "mentally ill"

Why humanize them all? Some are heartless killers!

Mitch McConnell is as Mitch McConnell does, 
as you and I know. "President"  Trump is too busy
jumping from one scandal to another  
to do something about gun control 

Now he has his impreachment to worry about.... 

Campaign promises he made, still unkept.
Actions to be taken, he leaves to chance 
with a predictable "We'll see what happens"
That seems to be his favorite go-to one-liner....  
    
"We'll see what happens"?                     

I see nothing happening anytime soon   
to curb mass shootings in America, do you?    
It's very hard to make things happen...  
when Washington is broken! 



Date written: 09/30/2019

Yesterday and Today

Yesterday was today
Rain fell night and day
It was shining all times
The land was green
The moon was not visited

Among people, love was genuine
Compassion was a heartily virtue
People spoke to one another friendly
No terrorism we heard
No climate issues we knew

Love was in our hearts
Life was valued
Peace was on the land
No woman was raped
No child was on the street

But today is a different day
Homeless people here and there
Growing more desperate
Rain has gone and people are selfish
For man has become mischievous

Revenge and hatred dwell in our hearts
For dignity has become volatile
The ecosystem is damaged
Bombs and terrorism kill us
WhatsApp, TV and Facebook replaced human dialogue

Yesterday and today make the future
We need peace, neighbors and safe atmosphere
Otherwise, we are homeless
We need to live peacefully
In a conducive environment

Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
Form: ABC

Premium Member 16 Hallowed Acres Memorial

Years have come
Years have also gone
Tears and pains are still on;
Memories fresh and vivid
And families still livid

Pains so real, yet a constant
Scars as reminders  of....
Of the 16 hallowed acres,
On the 11th of September 2001

16 bloodied acres of Manhattan
 estate, a memorial
The symbols of America under 
 siege
The heroics of men and women to
  the death 
World trade centre, never again 

World trade centre the stage
Where terrorism took front page
Announcing it's global age 
16 blood stained acres, hallowed.
Reminders of what has been,
Reminisces of what would have 
 been 
  (Written on 01/04/2015)
Form: Ode

Premium Member Broken Glass

Some recalled Kristallnacht,
the white mob’s facial fever,
once the same fever of a night,
now the fever of a day-mare.

Some recalled Charlottesville,
the white mob’s lust for blood,
once the same blood craved,
now the blood of a purgatory.

Some recalled Greenwood,
the white mob’s rampage,
once the Tulsa rage inflamed,
now the ire of the privileged.

Oh persecuted one,
aspiring despot, so maligned and martyred,
your words hang in the air like the endless
echo of wailing toddlers.

Captain of the siege,
What incendiary drivel have you sown? 
What lie ignited white wrath again?

Broken glass, shards of democracy.
To steal elections, accuse your enemies of it.
To win by fraud, manufacture it.
To decertify black votes, rile white mobs.

Broken glass, shards of democracy
swept from the floors of the capitol,
the bloodied casualties,
the pipe bombs awaiting discharge,
	while white thugs are protected by white justice.

Broken glass, shards of democracy.
White supremacy 
         beds well with fascism and capitalism.
                
Broken glass, shards of democracy.
      When will the next carnage surface?
                                Where will democracy die?


Political Madness

We are down on a sandy beach
And our legs dug deep in the sand of pain
Left stranded in the sea of sadness
The night of destruction falling on us with extreme darkness
Hovering on us the venom of evil
With rain drops of blood on our land
The storm getting heavier by the day
The flame of hope blown away by wind of wickedness
We live in a country where no one is safe
Where death darken the sky like an imminent doom 
Where the majority live in ardent poverty
A land where corruption is at its peak
Our leaders the master chef to all our miseries
With eyes of blind spot to the need of the people
Deaf ears to the cry of the innocent
Blind eyes to the sufferings of the poor
The beat of political madness stirs in the air
With sound wave of pain to all the citizen of the land
Human lives valued only for a couple of coins and a few naira note
Innocent blood shed all in the name of political game
The taste of power and excessive desire for wealth
Sum with their selfish and political greed
Puts our dear nation in a state of unrest 
Children of innocent souls being tortured through burning knife of evil
Leaving the youths to live their lives in fear
Our girls are no longer safe to go to school
Terrorism the bad sweet smell polluting our atmosphere
With it effect on us an horrible scar
People being nurtured to the highest point of hatred
With every of their road leading to violence and terrorism 
Little by little we are losing our national pride
Our economy dropping faster than the speed of sound
Our leaders failing in every good sense of leadership
With the interest of the people far from their mind
From the cry of the rejected and abused children
To the tears of the suffering and confused adult
Same questions comes to the mind of every nigerian
Why do we have to suffer this much?
Are our leaders so blind to see that the nation is on a downhill of destruction?
How long will it take for them to hear our cry?
And what will it take for everything to change for good?
I guess only God has the answers to all this questions
And the golden key to our freedom
All will have to do is to keep praying
And keep hold of our little flame of hope
Cos one day I believe everything will change for good
Form: ABC

Foolish Nigeria

If you cannot mend
your own house,
how will your enemy
build it for you?

You cry terrorism.
You name Boko Haram.
Yet you avert your eyes
from the hands
that arm them.

Who feeds the fire?
Who sells the knife?
Who whispers the route
before the strike?

How can the sponsor
of disorder
be your physician?

Your leaders kneel in corruption,
sleep with devils,
and preach prosperity
to the starving.

They speak of God,
yet bargain with blood.

America arrives
wearing the mask of salvation,
but everywhere he walks
order collapses.

Can a killer of his own people
teach you peace?

He called your continent filth.
Did you think
his heart would defend you?

Nigeria,
do not confuse education
with wisdom.

Do not wait for strangers
to fix wounds
they helped create.

Power never rescues the weak.
It exploits them.

And he who waits for saviors
while refusing truth
is already digging
his grave.

Premium Member Oldyear Burnout

Burnout
is what can come of inspiration,
if you're not careful.
     Gish Jen

Degeneration
is what can follow manic fast-growth regeneration,
if you're not well-seasoned.

War and terror
can come from tribal competitions,
peace and freedom fighting and squabbling
for healthy food and water and fuel,
if you're not co-empathic enough,
double-bound Win-Win equivalently bilateral
secure, 
conservational, 
restorative co-messiahs,
bodhisattvas,
eco-yogis
noticing and stretching
designing and cooperatively networking,
dancing and singing.

Hate and anger and fear
are what can come from love and faith and hope,
if we're not health care receivers enough,
and cooperative givers-forward,
co-investors of and for HealthCare,
filling toward CareFull with Humble Gratitude,
both Ego-Eco Logists
Logos of health systemic trends,
as contrasted against
social and ecopolitical and personal Loser NonElite pathologies.

Zealous fundamentalism
is what can come from counter-cultural radicalism,
if you're not listening to karmic grace
multiculturally enough.

Fascism
is what can come from NonElite exclusionary democracy
if you're not grateful for WinWin creolizing therapies
and humble about past retributive colonizing traumas
enough.

Jihad terrorism
is what can come from too-divinely supremacist inspired 
retributive injustice
if we are not HealthCare ecologically inclusive enough.

Holocaust
is what can come from Paradise Lost
if we are not listening cooperatively enough
to both internal landscapes
and external climates for ecological health.

LeftBrain Burnout
is what can come of SacredElder RightBrain inspired
NewYear EcoLogical Resolutions,
if you're not careful.

Break Time, a 9-11 Poem

Break Time
by Michael R. Burch

for those who lost loved ones on 9-11

Intrude upon my grief; sit; take a spot
of milk to cloud the blackness that you feel;
add artificial sweeteners to conceal
the bitter aftertaste of loss. You’ll heal
if I do not. The coffee’s hot. You speak:
of bundt cakes, polls, the price of eggs. You glance
twice at your watch, cough, look at me askance.
The TV drones oeuvres of high romance
in syncopated lip-synch. Should I feel
the underbelly of Love’s warm Ideal,
its fuzzy-wuzzy tummy, and not reel
toward some dark conclusion? Disappear
to pale, dissolving atoms. Were you here?
I brush you off: like saccharine, like a tear.

Keywords/Tags: 911, 9-11, 9/11, terror, terrorism, terrorist, attack, aftermath, victims, survivors, consolation, consolers, condolences, comfort, comforters, memorial, tribute, sacrifice, sacrifices, grief, loss, heal, healing
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Defamation Politics

Defamation Politics
By Franklin Price
3/23/2016

Defamation politics gets worse and worse each day
Has nothing to do with policies or politics in any way

Election terrorism is what it has come to be
Real terrorism around the world is quite enough for me

There should not be freedom, to tell half truths and lies
This really dirty politics is something I despise

Super packs are organized to take it further in the dump
Money thrown at degradation to defame the likes of Trump

If Republicans did not like him, never should have let him in
Never let him run as an Elephant, what they've done is more than sin

Got attention that they wanted, thought he would not succeed
The tables turned right on them, the people thought he's what we need

Now that he is way ahead, all degradation more than fair
Unless it comes from Mr. Trump not many really care

The power is against him the people have no say
To vote in mass against it is the people's only way

Government not by the people, we're not invited to the ball
Cast the vote, that's in your heart, or have no say at all.
Form: Couplet

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace