Long Tnt Poems

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


Letters In Red

A dying woman's suicide note. 

While writing,
I am trying to find a reason to live.
Amidst this chaos of heartbreaks, 
A coward have I become!

I have forgotten how sweet 
The bell of hope rings; 
When the finger of God has already
Inscribed 'DOOM' on the walls of my life.

That garden of life which used to blossom;
The roses changed to thorns and 
The stars we used to gaze at, sky high;
Have turned into stones.

Maybe I became insensitive to pain, 
I do not remember how it feels to bleed; 
But I can feel life bleeding out of me, 
This blood—the only sign that I lived! 

I lived dining on antidepressants because 
My pain could not possibly be remedied
By the contents found in a first aid kit. 
I loved! 

I loved you more than life
Because you were a mother's prayer
For a father's protection being answered; 
I dreamt! 

I dreamt you would be my reason:
My reason to live on
In the face of tragedy; 
I believed! 

I believed pain would come and go,
Like the night turns into day—seasons. 
If only I lasted longer; 
But so would the pain—IF!... 

I became a piece of TNT lit on both ends, 
And blowing up was eventual.
I can feel that flame of life dying 
And the gates of hell calling! 

Calling. Calling. Calling. 
The grim reaper knocks at my door, 
Ready to collect my soul—
I called him. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 
My savior, my salvation?!
The world would be better without me, 
What of you my child? 

Remember. Remember. Remember. 
I gave you life, 
And for you I will lose mine
But not because of you. 

Live on? 
I would say, 
But I still want to be a good mother. Yes! 
Even in death! 

My baby, my joy. 
For you I will live
But the blood on this paper 
Tells me my hour has come. 

Happy to be going, 
But sad to be leaving you behind am I. 
Darkness is blackening my sky, 
A deep sleep imminent—death! 

I can already see a vision of me. 
I am looking down from a place above
For my sorrows are compensated; 
Death loves the troubled!

Death whispers in my ear, 
His words sound like a soft crescendo 
Of a comforting lullaby.
His song is my farewell... 

Written in blood, 
Every letter red.
At the very least, 
I died smiling!...


Slamming Dakarai Cobb Part 4

Ding. Ding. Goes the sound of the bell.
Soupers see a poetic king emerge from his cell...

You called me a "Whorelock" - define that word punk?!
You're in for a shock - I don't entertain poetic junk!
I see you're using "caps" to capitalize certain words.
Tell your "girl" to give back my jockstrap before I tell the soupers what I heard!
That's right dakarai cobb. she said she can't stand your "small size."
Your girlfriend gives one helluva head job, but that's no surprise!

Only the Poetic Warlock can say, "hocus, pocus."
I'll slap "you" so hard, your "grandma's" eyesight will go out of focus!

I laughed silly boy, after I read, "Jimmy's first reality check."
In this prison, you'll be someone's toy, walking around with hickies on your neck!
Come on now you poetic thug, you've never been in a fight in your life!
In this prison you'll be smashed like a bug, or become "big bubba's" wife!
I'm a real life "head-buster," I've just learned to control my anger.
lil' boy, my life could be a blockbuster, for I'm an ex-gangbanger!
You don't believe me silly, just call Maury Correctional Facility!
In case you didn't know, it's public info, so check my credibility!

I wish I could have you all alone in this here cell.
I'd rip your weak heart from your breastbone and send you to hell!
I'm sending you a message telepathically, trying to make your brain explode.
I want to destroy you mentally, and then tie you to a railroad!
I want to inject you with HIV, and watch you choke on your own tongue.
I want to blow you apart with some TNT, and then lay your "pieces" in animal dung!

dakarai be serious, what other poetic forms do you write?
I'm just curious; for "soupers" have said you're just a poetic parasite!
Yes, I stay in the "soups winner circle" religiously.
Don't be upset with me because poets appreciate my poetry!
Yes, the "top 50 best poets" list, when will I see "you" on there?
"Soupers" say you don't exist, but that is true "after" this poetic warfare!

*Now I see why P.D. chose to totally ignore you.
For I've left you an amputee, and now I've injected you with swine flu!
Form: Rhyme

Inside Me

Sweet dreams producing Ice Cream underneath satisfying sheets, seeing you through the eye's of my mind I can pull you inside me.  This Love Matrix, flexible Love Jones, happy faces and vertical joy rides, oh me... oh my! You feel so good inside my mind.  Hands clinched, sweat pouring, uncontrollable multiples, walls squeezing you like a hug, voices ( RINGING OUT LIKE THUNDER!!!).  Beautiful death take me now so I may awaken to the rising of the sun slightly!  Purples Skies... Candles still glowing on our brown skin, I can't tell where yours begin and I can't tell where mines end. New day trickery and he's asleep! My mouthy retreat to be an alarm clock, wetter then Lake Michigan.  Every lick skillfully teasing, now latched on, time for the pleasing. 
  Look at me as I feed! power in my skills, stiffness in his magic stick, I'm going deeper aiming for thirst quenching elixir. Wait... hold your escape, new route I want to taste.  Straddling your anaconda instantly my levy breaks, sweet milk all over the place! You say in dominance who said that you could release now my demand is for you to clean this up, and in submission I am eager to love his lust, as he watches me I am eager to make him BUST! Quickly turning me out, under AND over, but I like it from behind where the claps from the slaps lie, blowing my mind.  I feel like an ovation, clap clap clap, erotic potion stirring, work that that that!  Explosive Like TNT... Squirting hot like lava making you put a hurting on me!
Long back strokes like an Olympic swimmer wanting a gold medal and retire! Unbelievable enough I take you higher wanting every drip drop til it's gone. Yet the sensitivity in you got me feeling like the head beauty in the beast that I am! Inside me... these dreams got me feeling like a freak, must change the sheets.... now back to reality shaken from a dream!

Shattered Dreams

You tried to hide your exploits in the dark.  The wives of those men knew you were 
sleeping around the trailor park.  You spread the disease of adultry around town.   Your 
promiscuity kept you financially above ground.  In a diary you kept every conquest written 
down.  Even that sexually stimulating ride that night on the merry- go-round.
       A limousine pulls up and you walk out in a fabulous red strapless dress.  That politician 
fed you diamonds an dfor the first time you felt like a princess.  You felt loved and secure by 
his wonderful deeds.  In exchange you catered to his sexual barbaric need.  Until eventually 
you found yourself physically abused and on your knees.  It was just a matter of time before 
he blew his top like some T.N.T.
       You crave revenge, but you're afraid to be a blackmailer.  So you're back home alone in 
your trailor.  But now you wear an ugly scar across your face.  The memory of the newly 
elected governor you can't erase.  In your diary you keep pictures of the two of you 
together. The scar will be a constant reminder forever. 
       Over the years life has been so hard on you.  From motel rooms to the avenue.  
Abusive men and steady drug use have left their residue.  At times you still blame the 
Governor for what you've gone through.  With no job skills and mouths to feed, you find 
yourself on your back spreading your knees.  Slowly over time sex for drugs would satisfy 
your needs.  And from appearance no one would have guessed you used to cheerlead.  Your 
health begins to rapidly decline.  You told your mother you were fine, but she did not agree.  
So off to the clinic you went, only to discover you were positive for H.I.V; 
       After she died, her family discovered the pictures and the diary.  Titled "Shattered 
Dreams".  End of story.......

Premium Member Silhouettes On the Stage 1953

Lying still on the class room floor,
brown paper for a bottom sheet.
All the children were gathered round
and my outline was complete.

A cookie cutter girl was I
in bright black paten leather shoes;
with a gathered skirt, puffy blouse
of blue polka dotty hues.

Drawn silhouette, a paper doll,
not ashen as deaths cold harrow,
and I regret, my parents get
left Hiroshima's shadows.

Eight years gone the Rising Sun
was challenged in an earthy sky;
for bombs Little Boy and Fat Man fell
and two-hundred thousand people died

The Man of Steel, old Stalin
passed away in Russia this year;
the hot cold war was in full bloom
and our children hid in fear.

Beneath our desk tops we scrambled
as the shrill sirens shrieked away
the Committee of Five ruled Russia
and Khrushchev was on his way.

Dwight Ike was in the White House
as a veteran, he'd fought hard
the GI bill was now in affect
and bomb shelters filled our yards.

And little girls with ringlet curls
still made dollies on paper sheets;
while the doll shadows left by WWII
bombs blackened in Japan's streets.

*On August 6, 1945, the United States used a massive, atomic weapon against Hiroshima, Japan. This atomic bomb, the equivalent of 20,000 tons of TNT, flattened the city, killing tens of thousands of civilians. While Japan was still trying to comprehend this devastation three days later, the United States struck again, this time, on Nagasaki. Nagasaki was bombed on August 9, 1945 only three days after the bombing of Hiroshima. And we worry that other countries may develope atomic bombs???
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member The Solid Truth

THE SOLID TRUTH

On the day I was born.
Everyone put me on a petal stool.
The Angel's played a trumpet horn. 
While everyone called me a ~precious jewel.
Harps played!
Doves flew!
That's how my birth was displayed.
As I got older ~ As I grew!
My heart of gold started to fade.
Sinking down in to the blues.
I hide my thoughts under the shade.
Wondering how one screw got lose.
I removed the pin from my own grenade. 
Like TNT~ I lit my own fuse.
Blowing myself away from your masquerade.
My life has no buttons to defused..
My heart is twisted with barbwire as a barricade.
I live this rotten life, no reason to hit the snooze.
Sweating and letting the thoughts of revenge cascade.
A level of rage and hate is my only muse.
You camouflaged into a blonde beast with the eyes of jade.
The truth has come out, with an unacceptable excuse.

The solid truth, is like solid waste.
A force of mean, turning a heart cold.
Here's the truth do you want my new sour taste.
Forget when I was sweet, when I was bold.
I enjoy this new feeling of being out of place.
The truth was told..
In your face.
I laughed at the way it was all unfold.
Walking with a smile~ one day you will die,
and pay for what is owed.

While I sleep at night with Glory..
You'll wake up everyday to my untold story.
With the solid truth that lies have no end.
Guilt will have everyone crying at my funeral.
Wondering what happened to their "precious jewel.

by;p.d.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Marco and Laura Coming Together

It could be seen in the rough surf 
Marco and Laura traveling towards French style turf 
Touring the gulf 
Showing the teeth of an angry wolf 
Winds swirling 
Waves curling 
Water hurling 
Like a southern gent 
Dealing with egotistical celebrity resent 
Putting up a TNT hospitality tent 
Programming things on TV 
Watching it with a cable fee 
Keeping certain names alive 
Buzzing in their sacred bee hive 
Presenting giving it more visibility try 
Enjoying ongoing stories emotional ride 
Mindful amusement park fury 
A situation that stated evacuate in a hurry
Or natural forces will bury 
No caring or worry 
These two names never had news worthy mention 
Now got National network’s attention 
Coming together creating tension 
Claiming to be a hurricane 
Category level no longer tame 
Special effects warning checks 
Screaming stating show respect 
An angry tone 
Entertaining spectacle viewed alone 
Hoping there is a working phone 
Drowning in the watery foam 
Death could come by scripted dialogue 
Being read by studio anchor reporting information in a fog 
Did Marco write this page? 
Preparing students living in a pandemic cage 
Or is it Laura having rage 
Loving a craft different from a road house stage 
An unnamable part 
Only miles the two are part 
When Laura and Marco bring back the loving sun 
Knowing the tides are crashing scaring some 
Needing to know ‘Are we having fun?’
Form: Rhyme

Bake Off Off

It’s the Great British Bake Off
And I’ve got to week six
But I think it’s all over since
They’ve  dissed my bread mix.
They said it was rubbish 
When I baked my plum duff
And Mary said my cake
Was sandy, coarse and rough.

There’s a slinky little blonde
Who’s giving Paul the eye
And I think it must be working
Cos she’s more than getting by.
Her bagels were quite dodgy
Her bottom soggy and wet
Yet he said they were delicious
Definitely teacher’s pet

They’re going to push me out 
Deep down this I know
But I’ll take the b’s with me
If and when I go
I’ve planned my revenge
With my Kamikaze pudding dish
With TNT and dynamite 
And petrol, just a splish.

I’ve made my own shrapnel
With glass and tacks and nails
To ensure there’s a back up 
If  my pudding mixture fails,
So, when they tell me that
It’s time that I went
I’ll push the detonator
And blow up the bloody tent.

There’ll be weeping and wailing
And lots and lots of tears
But that’s one Bake off episode
They’ll not forget for years.
I’m  the Kamikaze chef
Divine Wind of the Aga Range
Apres Moi le deluge
After me things will change
Form: Rhyme

Suicide ?

We’ll never meet
You’re not known to me

But I still care

Mathematical man me
Calculations my game
But I’ve had my turn
Of tormenting emotional pain

Intense and so unbearable 
Escape seems impossible
And 
Worse at night

Similar and almost exact the

Unbearable a loud persistent sound
Not like TNT an explosive bang

Over too soon
The impulse would be a mercy gift

Linger your patience on

An escape possible
By science and study 

A sounds intensity and power varies by
The Rule of the Inverse of the Square of the Distance

Listen

Loud the un-bearable sound is softer
Intensity at two miles is a quarter that of one mile
Four miles it’s a sixteenth
Its maths

A little out of fashion in these emotional times

Time grants pain a softer edge
Endure if you can

Maybe a duty to ones self 
But old memories less hurt

We, I don’t want you to go
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

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