Short Onslaughts Poems

unspoken

sounds of silence scream
in cacophonous onslaughts
again and again

©deborah burch
2.17.2013...

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Touched by terrorism


T ortured, traumatized touched by terrorism
O utrageous onslaughts obliterate innocence
U nprecedented Ultra-extremist atrocities
C auterized consciences create cataclysm
H emorrhaging  humanity hopelessly held hostage.


John Derek Hamilton
June 27,2017...

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That aspect of us, caged in form,
knows not it’s living light,
so fears fierce onslaughts of life’s storm,
till it imbibes clear sight.

Stretching the pregnant pause,
we get to know the cause
of conceptual flaws.

Track thoughts that nonplus 
That aspect of us...

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eap-TREES

The forester protects trees:

in the onslaughts of disease

and the threatening dangers that he sees 

by the sweet of his knees

in the freeze or in the breeze


© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
    January 12, 2010


Inspired by Poetry Soup member contest:  RHYME TIME 	
Sponsored by: Brian Strand...

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I still remember when the tiny ones would
latch on and suck themselves into comfort 
relieve my swelling, too.

I still remember their faces when
visual stimuli met oral yearning
so completely.

Those nasty nasal onslaughts 
who cared? For my lil sugars
were so dear I'd have drowned in sulfur before
forgoing the blue snot bulb....

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The fantasy: 
of moving in a circle, 
taking a flower bath. A metaphysical 
misquote. You were losing 
your identity.

There was no abstract folly. 
I will protect all the concrete truths.

To find a lover in the woods.

Fighting my demons 
I start a circuitry of unborn vows.

The onslaughts continue. 
Night comes with all its glory 
to torment me, in absence of moon.


Satish Verma...

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in your presence 
where the force of attraction onslaughts
like dewdrops when they fall on roses,
i long to be.

in your eyes
where love beckons 
like a summer night,
i want to behold.

in your arms
where desire besieges 
like a maiden moon,
i can hide.

But deep down inside of you
where passion and ecstacy
are heating up in smoke,
.....i want to burn
...................burn
...................burn...

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The póetique  listening 
to the reason, as foggy
as the past, untelling the
future of midnight onslaughts.

The rain of emptiness, was 
playing havoc with the
fiery cross. No orchestrated
withdrawl, I am?

preparing myself for the
supersonic cruise missiles of
vendetta. Golden heart,
you will carve out and eat.

The bluebirds. They had left
unannounced. This summer
the snowy peaks will melt,
for a lone tree.


Satish Verma...

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She said she wasn't the same,
So what do I have to lose,
Besides being rejected by the dame,
Still bereft of the right to choose,
Still the lawyer's feels to pay,
When will justice have its way,
Over the anarchy of the home,
Fight back against the monopoly,
Even when you stand alone,
Anecdotes do not personify,
The enemy lurking in my arms,
Hold fast the flood's approaching,
For their verbal onslaughts will cause you harm,
Prepare to become revolutionary....

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Likening autumn to beauty in death,
behold mighty trees in full bloom exhale,
as leaves fall to ground, with their dying breath;
dark seems the future, so in fear trees pale,
succumbing to thought onslaughts that assail.
Shifting sands of time makes us realise
that soul lives on even though body dies,
resurrecting soon, in another form,
so needless upon death are our heart's sighs;
God's flame of love is kind, loving and warm.

18-October-2022...

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