Long Warday Poems

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


War Logic

planned it out all along
to find my place among those doing nothing wrong
they wouldn't know it
but i have people believing we're bigger than we are
planned it all along
to come your way
and leave you holding the bag
probably will do it again
me myself and I standing alone
now you get the blame
of a simple logical equation
to find the perpetrator of such a twisted plot
whose come into your life
and dressed you up in everything but love

premeditated perfect plan
simple as 1 2 3 
walk away looking innocent
so why are my dirty hands the only ones clean
to blackmail you with the fear of being caught doing the wrong thing

simple solution to such soo called chaos
logic dear watson
we knew this day would come
the day we'd have to sing a familiar dance and song
so why among all of you singing along
do you not know the dance routine
of those coming your way to do you wrong

the world doesnt like to admit to its mistakes
but familiar patterns of unhealthy routines
life is pretty simple when you follow your heart
we all know that dance
we all know that song
so why are the misinformed of the act of how to spot
the ones you wouldnt let in

I'm smaller than you realise
and with emotional baggage to hang on you
why do you look so guilty
when i know the truth

simple logical equation
so lets start back at act 1 scene 1
the curtain closes when we have to change the routine
because a few people truly dont belong
executing a plan to blackmail you
and walk away leaving you to pay the consequences
i may not be intelligence
but honestly
its a simple logical equation
anyone can solve
to find out whose the one

follow your heart
the day hate makes more sense your defeated
breaking down what happened in my living room
how i was held hostage
and in the end the cop blamed and beat me
put that into perspective
and see that there must be a simple solution
the world just isn't organised enough to pull this off
someone would have said something
someone would have taken a stand
but if not
its pretty obvious
from this distance

so here i go folding with the winning hand
lightning doesnt strike the same place twice
but ohnestly hiding behind your intelligence
and freedom of speach to blackball me
i did it to myself
i just dont know why so many of you wouldnt do the right thing


Two Hundred and Twenty Stories

Two hundred and twenty stories never written but etched in time

were removed on a day which started fine.  

The silver worms traveled down beneath the floors 

carrying those whose day (lest they know) would be a chore,
 
through the escalators and out the doors passing the facades lined with stores.

Aristocrats and bourgeois run through the halls

for no one would ever believe that these stories could fall.

I myself went to the nineteenth floor of Cortlandt and Church

starting my day seeing on which call I would make first. 

“My future is looking great”, flashed briefly through my mind, 

little did I know that fate was not mine. 

A large boom made the buildings shake and the windows had rippled 

as I ran to the pane and suddenly was crippled. 

I gazed up eighty some ought floors

to see an explosion rocking the world off its doors. 

I exclaimed, “My God, their bombing us” at the top of my lungs

and ran down 19 floors...like I was 19 years young. 

Standing in the corridor on Dey that day, my eyes witnessed things I’d rather not say. 

The second explosion than flashed before my eyes, 

and I ran near a bridge to try and survive. 

I stood there and wondered and waited what to do next 

until one of the stories decided where I should run to avoid the effects.  

Half the stories came down like an angry freight train 

releasing a smoke monster engulfing all with a white powdered grain.

Covering my mouth, coughing like crazy, crossing the bridge, all sites were hazy. 

Standing on the other side of the east I looked to the west

to see the other half of the stories end my friends, to this I attest. 

Hundreds and thousands and millions of lives 

were all torn apart over this year plus nine.  

So I sit here now telling you all first hand 

a day in the life of a fairly young man

whose story had began and ended that day

may your hearts stay free and strong 

and God Bless the USA.
Form: Rhyme

Red Tears, Black Skies

"No",
He exclaimed to the tyrant's vicious throne,
Only to have his body later trampled and thrown.

He was the tzadik of the period,
And the weight of the world rested on his shoulders,
His spirit was vested with authority,
As he was a man of great superiority.

A true Renaissance Man,
His qualities unbound by time,
And his murder will remain an unforgettable crime.

And he worked towards
The land of mourning and tragedies,
A land he looked to seek support,
Where the people had other interests to exhort.

Our majesty was led into a trap.
One by one, his family slaughtered,
Rivers of blood spilled and dozens of men killed,
And a baby murdered, as his arms flapped.
Like a bird, 
back, forth, up, and down.

With his sword drawn, the falling Hero valiantly Stood,
Against an army that no other man could,
Would they kill the heir of the prophets?
Harm the neck kissed by the Prophet with such tender love?
A man who sat on the Prophet's shoulders as a boy,
Thrown down and trampled like a children toy
Whose body was filled with arrows, resembling a porcupine,
Killed by men with absolutely no spine.

And physically, they could not recognize you,
But deep in our hearts our spirits are with you!
Our tears are shed like the blood from your neck,
As you taste the salt and pus we cry for your day of wreck.
Your physical body so shamed in the aftermath of the storm,
Only to be resurrected into a deserving new form.

No day like your day,
And every day is your day.
For we have dedicated our lives,
To not let your sacrifice go in vain.
A Timeless Revolution,
An endless revolt.
We will Stand where you can no longer stand.
And pick up your sword and fight throughout the land,
The tale of your tragic fate will continue to expand,
For it is the anthem of our lives,
And the song in our graves.
© Bilal Hb  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member On That Polished Pebbled Beach

As i look back on that Summers day in August 44
Soon to be transported back to Normandy's bloodied shores
I know i will be leaving, the girl of my dreams
Face to face as we say our goodbye's and tears like loving streams

The day that we first met on that polished pebbled beach
Her flowing blond hair and eyes of blue and complexion of ripened peach
The backdrop of the waves as they echoed within my heart
Rippling undulations, impart

On a tartan blanket she lay whilst her siblings threw skipping stones
Momentary our eyes were captured, two souls on a beach unknown
As we furthered investigation, with glances of blush and stare
This blond and the entranced soldier, now becoming aware

Just as we finished glancing, to the waters edge we look
Her sister of five years old, was caught in wave surge soak
My training instincts show as i react to this little girl
Inhibitions drain from my heart, postponing my previous swirl

On this polished pebbled beach, a young life's barely begun
Nearly taken from a family rich, on a sands where there was no gun
I step back from the tartan and reflect on my tomorrows
Not knowing what i walk into, to visualise hidden sorrows

A changing surrounds us, where two were in captured glance
Turning to this unknown soldier, and smiles with grateful please
She flutters her eyelashes like butterfly wings
With the grace of a Summers breeze

We gather our thoughts as we look back at the stones
Where living can succumb to our future and die all alone
I survived the war, fortunate to return home
As i think of my colleagues, who will out there forever roam
Form: Quatrain

Mental Health

years of abuse add up
someone snaps
the judge gives them a prison sentence
which they serve and then get released
next thing that person knows as they try to rebuild their life
starting from the bottom

They approached you
two months after your sentence
tell you you are court ordered
for a 30 day psychiatric assessment
you dont get out for years

made to believe you are sick
witnessing nurses affairs with patience
man with a broken leg forced to walk
young girls screaming rape

the whole time knowing you are not supposed to be there
everyday another fight you can never win

finally you get away
addicted to their pills
everyday a struggle 
for years keeping appointments
not understanding what is going on

You serve your sentence
then you serve another one
never knowing what judge sentenced you there
every doctor from a different country
telling you life isn't fair

Doctor's lieing to your family
about biting and kicking him
maximum security forensics
in and out of group homes for years

Then one day you quit taking your meds
tired of the side affects
and suddenly you begin waking up early
doing your laundry
eating healthy
cleaning your house

the hindsight remains
I wasn't supposed to be there
no judge sentenced me there
allah almighty answers the phone when you call amnesty international

Unable to become erect
covered in scales
twitching
foggy thinking
when you can't afford not to think clear

Go tell eminem i get it
I walked the ward for you
made to think i was sick my whole life
and then sickened by the things i went through


Premium Member A Day At the Beach

His day began with "Reveille" blaring from within the bowels of the ship.
Sergeants yelled, "Up and at 'em lads!   We're takin' a little trip!"
He wearily arose from his bunk to don the accoutrements of war.
He'd survived Guadalcanal, now he faced Iwo Jima's fearsome shore.

They fed him steak and eggs - rookies joked that it may be their final meal.
But the battle-weary Marine was very grim - to him it seemed so surreal.
The chaplain gathered them around and offered a fervent prayer,
Pleading for God's protection and committing them to His care.

The grizzled old "Gunny" yelled, "First platoon over the side!"
"Down those lovely cargo nets, boys!  Semper Fi!" he cried!
Bobbing Higgins boats waited below to take him to that perilous strand.
The engines roared as the boat wallowed and rolled t'ward that ebon sand!

He hunkered down with the others, his helmet beating upon his nose.
Others used their helmets to receive bits of breakfast as the boat sank and rose!
Adding to the din of battle so familiar to his ears were shells flying overhead.
As his boat with its precious cargo neared the beach it was hit by zinging lead!

The boat struck a coral reef so they had to wade in water up to their hips.
He struggled with his heavy pack and rifle with a prayer upon his lips.
Brave men fell under withering fire that day as they tried to force a breach.
Brave men forever lost their innocence that day on that hallowed beach!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Form: Rhyme

Always For Peace

Come,
remember with me
the day that brother fought brother,
the bodies piled high
behind the false security of the stone divisions
drawn through the heartland.
But when the fighting ceased,
all that remained
was a flag on the grave
of  every brother slaughtered in the name of unity.

Now,
recall with me
the day that we united
in hopes of saving our friends from certain doom.
And though the world was at their aid
70,000,000 fell
to the greatest evil the world has known.
But the tides turned
and the end was reached.
Now all that remains
is a flag on the grave of every friend
slain in the name of world peace.

Come,
recapture with me
the day that we fought for our country
but fought in vain.
Time and time again we tried,
be it foul or fair,
but to no avail.
We prayed for our children
“please come home alive”,
and now
all that remains
is a flag on the grave of every son
murdered,
and why?

Now,
turn your eyes from the horrors of the past,
and rather,
look upon the sweet memories of our brothers,
friends,
and sons.
Memories of the days
long before the magnetic appeal of falsely promised heroism
that tore us apart.
The days in which we knew,
despite whatever hardship that might rear it’s ugly head and stumble upon us
from the farthest reaches of the unknown,
these men died for the betterment of the world,
and now,
let not the flags on the graves remind you of your lost loved ones,
but rather the sacrifices they made
for peace,
always for peace.

Premium Member Just Another Day At the Office

The weary soldier returned from another perilous patrol,
To continue the battle in his cold, damp and muddy hole.
Hopes for a hot meal and a cup of coffee were mighty slim.
'Twas just another day at the office for him!

The bomber crew had flown for hours protecting our skies,
Feeling the stress but ever alert with their eagles' eyes.
In a day or so they would do it all over again.
'Twas just another day at the office for those gallant men!

The Captain of the Coast Guard boat cruised along the coast,
Responsible for her valiant crew - seldom leaving her post.
Ever on the alert for any emergencies that might occur.
'Twas just another day at the office for her!

Twenty-four hours on duty are normal for the brave marines,
And for the fearless sailors aboard confining submarines.
They won't be home tonight but will continue their roles.
'Tis just another day at the office for those courageous souls!

These dedicated patriots place national destiny above their own,
To ensure that our precious liberties will ne'er be overthrown.
They bear loneliness, fear, stress and frightful strife.
'Tis just another day at the office in their precarious life!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Form: Rhyme

Someone Help Us

The Day it happened I will never forget
The thought stills fills me with regret
The fact that man could be so full of hatred
That they are willing to kill 
And be killed 
It makes no sense
It makes me wonder what this world is coming to
Every year marks the anniversary
Of one of the saddest events 
No one cheers
No one dances
This isn’t a fun time
This date is nothing to be proud of
There is nothing to sing about
You might know what I am talking about
Or maybe not
What I am talking about is a bad day
The day we made many enemies
The day that hundreds, thousands of people lost their lives
Now do you know what I am talking about?
Still no?
Here maybe this will help
9-11
No, not the emergency number
The actual date
On this date four planes were hijacked and crashed
One in a Pennsylvania field,
Another in the Pentagon
But worst of all
Two in the Twin Towers
Friends, neighbors, and family
They lost their lives
Now every minute of everyday 
The families of these people
Have to suffer through the pain 
The pain of loss
And the pain of knowing that their loved ones won’t come back
They must feel like there is no hope
Wonder what this world has come to
Sometimes so do I
So do I

Me

Me


Some men bring millions to the Lord's name
by telling them lies like
you go to heaven when you die
and others tell the truth
in the midst of their adversaries angry eyes
they say, judgment day beckons
and no one knows the day or time
David has not ascended into heaven
only our champion
the son of man
Jesus Christ

ashes to ashes
dust to dust
what do you think will happen
when the all mighty remembers us
think he'll be pleased by the way we treat each other
or do you think he'll raise a fuss
and say, "Why do you love to sin ? 
were you not created sisters and brothers?"

ever consider what he did
he's given us all of these things
to do with whatever we please
so we killed and warred, and starved each other
and there are flies, and death and hell and disease
 and more
some people take vacations
and fly all over the world
and some pray to God
there'll be enough to feed their little girl
and we rant and we rave over such stupid little things
and I myself am guilty
beyond belief
so I thank God for another day to live and think and breath
yeah just thank God for another day
to live and to think and breath
and try and teach the man inside
to become a better me
© Mark Beal  Create an image from this poem.
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