Mushroom Cloud Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Premium Member Mushroom In Bloom


                                      our home grown monarch
                                shall swing open war's hell gate~

                                                 h     r
                                         s                       o  
                                     u                              o
                                    m                              m
                                     c    l     o     u      d    s
                                                    i n
                                                   b   l 
                                                o   o  m

Premium Member Itchy Fingers

Itchy Fingers?

I don’t mind dying in a nuclear war.
As long as it’s quick, not a lingering bore.
It’ll give the elite a chance to see the cloud.
Kill off the plebs in a crimson shroud.

I know their fingers are itching.
To press the oblivion button.
See what happens, 
from Moscow to Sutton.
and all the places in between,
They’ll watch it from their bunkers.
All the beautiful people I mean.
The psychopaths who own us
And control our pointless lives.
We the workers who feather their hives.

So, press it Musk, Trump, Putin and all else
Hidden in your bunkers focusing on self.

Obliterate the world. 
And the useless kind
You can do it to me.
I really don’t mind.

David Cox 27/02/24

Premium Member Mushroom Cloud

(science)
(has delivered)
(many useful things)
(to the mankind)
(except for the)
(weapons)
(for war and)
(mass destruction)
(the worst and the most)
(deadly amongst these is the)
(atom bomb, the explosion)
 (of which produces)
(mushroom-shaped cloud)
(that billows upward)
(with debris, smoke, water)
(vapor along with the radioactive fission)
(particles that get dispersed menacingly by the wind)
(far away from the rising central column) 
(with the message of death)
(we shouldn’t get)
|||||||||
|||||||||
|||||||||
|||||||||
|||||||||
~~~~~~~~~~~~”””~~~””””~~~””””~~~~”””””~~~~~~~~
~~~“””~~~~”””””~~~~~~~”””””~~~~~~~~~”””””~~~~~~


Premium Member Mushroom Cloud Hotdish

Takeover Taiwan

Sino-Russ aims at Ukraine

Edges      burnt      and crisp

Premium Member Air-Bourn Into the 20th Century

Air-Bourn Into the 20th Century
David J Walker

I was one of  the soldiers who 
Missed the target of the jump
Nine months up in a cloudless sky
Where some were chosen to live
And others to die 

Before their boots hit the ground
Where I found myself in a
Mid -20th Century place that
Didn’t need me to be Prole fodder

Although it didn’t matter to a
Volunteer who chose not to be
Anywhere else 

Though prepared  and yet
Too inexperienced to be scared
Of the dilemmas of the battle of
Those willing to do the killing in
The business of war 

I jumped into the 20th century 
Where I thought there would 
Never be more 
than this

At the end of 
a Mushroom Cloud

Premium Member Duck and Cover Drill

Duck And Cover Drill
David J Walker
 
I still 
Remember the drills 
Holding our heads under 
The third-grade desks
 
“Perfect,” our teacher said
Repeat after me
“Duck and Cover”
“Duck and cover”
 
And us boys on the 
Playground 
With wide-eyed pride
That our town 
Was important enough
For the Russians to bomb
With nuclear weapons
 
Pueblo
Had a weapons depot 
That no one we know
Had ever seen
 
But we had seen the
Graining film of  the
Mushroom cloud above the
Blast that would last only 
Seconds before 
Everyone and
Everything  was gone
 
Everyone but our 
Third-grade class 
Safe under our desks 
Heads beneath our arms
Where we would stay still 
Until the alarms were sounded
All clear from the
Duck and Cover Drill


Premium Member Mushroom Cloud

trench foot ankle deep

fanfares baptize innocence –

bugles sound defeat


30th January 2020

Lucifer, To the Enola Gay

Lucifer, To The Enola Gay
by Michael R. Burch

Go then, 
and give them my meaning
so that their teeming
streets
become my city.

Bring back a pretty
flower—
a chrysanthemum, 
perhaps, to bloom
if but an hour, 
within a certain room
of mine
where
the sun does not rise or fall, 
and the moon, 
although it is content to shine, 
helps nothing at all.

There, 
if I hear the wistful call
of their voices
regretting choices
made
or perhaps not made
in time, 
I can look back upon it and recall, 
in all 
its pale forms sublime, 
still
Death will never be holy again.

Published by Romantics Quarterly, Penny Dreadful and Poetry Life & Times. Keywords/Tags: Hiroshima, Enola Gay, atomic bomb, explosion, mushroom cloud, Lucifer, Satan, Devil, chrysanthemum, sun, moon, voices, choices, World War II, war, death, violence, science, power, conflict

Premium Member A Mushroom Cloud

The aftermath of climate change will last;
global warming will be devastating.
Worldwide, ocean waters are rising fast
while short-sighted lies keep circulating—
as islands sink into the shadowed past.

Coastal cities contemplate building walls,
but I'm afraid it's too little, too late.
Leaders will falter as disaster falls,
locked in committees to bully debate
drastic options while the government stalls.

Once the rain ceases irrigating crops,
millions of people will face starvation.
Famine will strip the shelves in all the shops,
and worldwide trade will slow to stagnation
once the global financial market flops.

Mass immigration will not be allowed;
any shred of decency will be lost.
Armies will be deployed to cull the crowd;
borders will be guarded at any cost,
and our world might end in a mushroom cloud.

Mushroom Soup

Above our heads that cloud

Mushroom shaped death

With a pyroclastic promise

Of incineration leaving

Nothing but our shadows

That we can only hope

Carries upon it no pain

No suffering as we just vanish

Along with most other

Life and species on this planet

And a nuclear winter

Lasting for many long years

But with no one to mourn

No one to shed a tear

I take no joy in spreading fear

But have no faith in those who rule

I will take no pleasure if I am right

As humanity succumbs to eternal midnights

No ringing of church bells

No tombstones

Over which to dwell

A thousand years from now

The planet will heal

And with no human species

This earth will grow very well

In time nobody will even know

Or be able to tell

That the miracles known as human beings

Here used to dwell

As we will be a myth

But written in no books

And told in no stories

For they like us will fail to exist.

The Mushroom Cloud

A whirlpool is stirring in my half empty cup
Until I’m intoxicated on my wavering path
I tumble from dizzying heights halfway up
My life is a nuclear winter in the aftermath  

All I’m gifted are signs of a dead-end ahead
The light in the tunnel is a mushroom cloud
How I love the euphoria as I storm ahead
My lungs implode as I scream out loud!!!

I sip a mood through a road of absolution
But I’m chronically thirsty for peace and truth
My skeleton was not built for this exhibition
But my lies are buried deep within the earth

My memories dance with galvanized ecstasy 
I toast beyond recognition to a life half lived
The mushroom cloud is a perpetual furnace
The fireworks mocking all that I’m bereaved 

09-15-2015
Tbang

Mushroom Cloud of War

~*~
mushroom cloud of war
howling winds with lightning bolts
anger in the clouds
~~**~~
~*~



haiku/senryu blended hybrid

Premium Member Mushroom Cloud

Only a fool would
Pyrocumulus mushroom
Nuclear horror



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war4.php

Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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