Obliterated Poems | Examples

Destruction

A broken heart
Can not begin to describe 
The pain I feel
My heart was obliterated 
Pass the point of return
To the point
Where the ashes 
Of which used to contain my soul
Dissolved into the water of my tears

Along the Sea Shore

They walked barefoot on the wet sand.
The hot sun had dipped beyond the horizon.
The brine and fresh air intertwined,
How pleasant to walk hand in hand!

Occasionally she would stoop, 
Her wedding ring glinting in the dying sun.
She would search for lovely decorated shells,
Whilst he tried throwing flat stones
Across the calm stretch of the waveless sea.

Finally, they had to turn back to their inn.
The access to the beach stopped their tracks.
Large rocks hindered further progress.
They did not mind really.  It was dark now.

Their previous footprints were almost obliterated.
Above the dark sky like sequins glittered stars.
They arrived at the inn, finely prepared.
They found champagne and sipping all 
Until they fell into a deep restful sleep.

Edicts of Silent Concession

A wall patched with lies
keeps the cracks from widening
but mementos fall
books, portraits, medals, and gifts—
gravity claims all relics

curtains shroud the crimes
centuries of stifled screams
glass betrays the hush
even the floorboards confess—
house itself is culpable

clothes, ties, hats, combs, wigs—
the trinkets of faded grace
heaped upon the street
flames burn their false finery—
pretense collapses to ash

palaces demolished
cubes enforce obedience
bankers on the run
food scraps sucked from rubbish binds—
can't stop the way of progress

rebellion outlawed
truth is now rule of edict
ugliness is king
screens implode in blinding flash
we gnaw at our own silence

mother will not come
her arms obliterated
father shamed and named
we crawl with pitiful bleats—
orphans of our own making

Love

love has no conditions
no contract
no absolutes
no rules or regulations

love is automatic
she cannot be thwarted or obliterated
you cannot talk her out of herself

love demands freedom
she loves who she loves

she owes no one an explanation
or an apology
love is a soul feeling
she cannot help herself

And Just Like That

Just when things were looking up,
When the sun started to shine once more,
The floor is yanked from underneath my feet,
And I’m shaken to my very core.
I thought I climbed to the top of the hill,
Thought I’d finally finished the race,
But nothing ever goes as planned,
Just like that, life smacked me in the face.
I told myself life would turn out the way I wanted,
But life always seems to have other plans,
I was the one controlling my life,
But just like that, it’s out of my hands.
I thought I finally found my people,
The ones who I could call my friend,
My obliterated heart started to heal,
And just like that, it’s broken again.

The Street

Some of them are living ghosts,
they have buried their roots
under newer foundations,
or they still live anonymously
under a rock of poverty.

If you asked me to name them
I could not, for they all had names
too similar to mine.

The whole street,
all its doors and windows,
its narrow-broken pavements
have been obliterated by the nazis
or the iron booted rent collectors.
Postwar postmen have no addresses
to slot through.

In my mind
is a diorama of a history
that I missed by being born late,
yet the street knew me before I knew it.

Now the ghosts are dying one by one.
Those that left the street
to become pink and abundant
were happy to be alive for a while,
as I was,

until inevitably
the diorama turned into a carousel
of long gray sunsets.

children of Palestine

Children in Palestine
He sat down to write a poem for nature
When he closed his eyes saw, bombed-out buildings
Rain dripping from wrecked concrete onto
The street, a muddy pool, but that
didn`t stop the children from playing captains of the deep sea
Another bomb fell and obliterated this harsh idyll
What was left was mist and fire where it once had been
A muddy puddle.
His pleasant poem about a track and olive roots trying
To trip him up, the shepherd, his dog, and the sheep coming
His way the good small of wool like an obscenity today
did little to stop his fear for the future.

DUTY just my opinion D

DUTY - an oblige - obliterated by id & ignored

Peelings of oranges

Peelings of oranges lying on the floor,
Forging a scent of a time that had passed long ago,
Obliterated shards of memory started to ignite,
Diving to the forest of crimson pale light,
Crushing into nothingness and falling into oblivion in the depths of night,

Your twisted knife lies in my heart,
Two unforgiven frivolous fragments of freedom fall apart,
Your pleading words as tattoos blending with my skin,
Staying forever if not at my will,
Your scream an echo to the dark corridors of my mind,
Dying in a mellifluous melody to my soul affined,

Sudden rain pouring in the shimmering whirlpools of ache,
The flow of grief decays the scent away,
Blurring the line that crashed my fate,
Peelings of oranges lying on the floor,
Drifting to pieces of nothing and everything before

Imperishable Stork

The wounded, intrepid stork
    remains defiant,
    withstanding the ceaseless
     rage.
  An unwavering,
relentless bliss adorns it.
It enfolds a blooming dawn
in its fascinating heart.
A lighted candle resides in its
fiery, boundless soul.
 Unraveling the tapestry of
divine beauty is like
 an undying rejoicing.
The unruffled, phosphorescent
sea is asphyxiated 
by deathless fetters.
They systematically decimate the unfailing,
unrequited dove.
Their unquestioned, unsullied
commitment is to hug it.
The prevailing, widespread
dark like a bloodthirsty
hawk will be obliterated by
the joyous sun of chrysanthemum.
The unbridled, unbowed
  spring like a sunny dream
is bedecked  with unfearing jewelry.
 The enduring, unsurpassed
Sunrise will prevail worldwide.
Its golden light never wanes...

Bluejays

Before the war
bluejays were just bluejays,
then the missiles arrived.
CNN displayed the mounting death count
until it too was obliterated.
Scorched bodies tumbled listlessly,
down deserted streets.
Some took to the sewage systems,
down there in the narrow dark,
rats were frolicking,
paws were pitter-pattering,
and they whirred and cackled
just like Bluejays.

Reality Wow What a Concept a song

Reality, wow what a concept
lifes provable facts
those incontrovertible truths
things that stick out and not fall in the cracks

Its subject to interpretation you see
describing the elephant for the blind
this part the leg,
that a tail, this part a trunk!! Divine!

For reality takes an observer
to set itself in the track
if that tree fell in the woods with no one to hear
did it make a sound of a crack?

Without perception, it's all contention
if it ever existed at all
and we are all running around with vivid imaginations on ground
till incontrovertible evidence is found

See it, touch it, document away
till the item in question is in decay
or maybe even obliterated away
the observation itself causing the obliteration to stay

And so that was how faith was born
for people to believe in others known truths
we didn't have to experience it first hand
we just had to trust like a youth

And from that comes charlatans 
who mangle that truth for cash
and make the world a caricature
and history rewritten despite past

With no firm understanding of what is
or firm understanding of what was
people lose their compass
and look to god above

Wiser

Older does not necessarily 
equate to wiser -- but wiser
can often make one seem a lot
older; in fact, robbed of youth
by poverty and war, I have
sadly met, too many premature
ancients: -- cynicism 
in their eyes; where
should reside bright, hopeful
gleams -- dreams, obliterated,
man's faux surface designs over-inking truer light, 
little more than colorful
tattoos
of ever
deeper
representation
of spirit
terminating
blight --

Obliterated

Obliterated

This is not a word I use often but when I think of how grief and loss feels this word is as close as I can describe it.

Obliterated: destroyed utterly

This is how losing you feels. This is how my soul feels without you here.

There's no way back from this. I will never be whole again. There will always be cracks, fractures and holes marking this time, marking this loss. 

Obliterated is absolute and that is how I know things will never be the same again.

full blown thunderstorm

gray tranquility
cloudy unmoving pensive
endearing silence

moments before rain
loud whip cracks across the sky
wind quickly picks up

full blown thunderstorm
peace is obliterated
nothing tranquil now

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