Short Scorched Earth Poems

Lazy crimson sways
Sun scorched earth, dry river bed
Lemonade cools all...

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Days fill
silhouettes
shadow figures
windowless skyscrapers
scorched rust...

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primrose coloured sky
grey clouds chase the setting sun…
rain kisses scorched earth

 © Harry J Horsman 2022...

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Murder Hornets do not linger
When they sting you with their stinger
The GOP claim
They have the best aim
When hoisting their middle finger...

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Since I climbed up this hill
I see past the sea or a steppe:
a great fire! burning the leftovers
of grease and filth
that created this scorched earth;

I can only pray
it spreads over here too.
...

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1.
a tornado's curl
small girl throws sand in the air -
vertical cleavage

2.
combines in a field -
grains of truth escaping hail,
locusts, wind, and fire

3.
hail storm’s calling card
twelve by sixty miles scorched earth –
life's tendrils neutered


Brian Johnston
22nd of August 2018...

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O my Master !
I am breaking rank,
with space and cosmos.

The scorched earth 
wants another moon, 
another sun. 

The blue abyss 
invites for a final plunge.
I may find my stars.

O my pain !
give me more needles
more bites.

On a platter 
you carry the severed title 
of my poem.


Satish Verma...

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billions advance
most for fewest
none at best
arrest the rest
the wretches
naked and poor
scorched earth
superstar stretched
stretch limousine
king's lear jet
platinum chariot
to the office
or the party
not the office party
common still
loud commoners
some at any rate
least for most
trillions recede

30th September 2018...

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octobre slinks forth
        relinquishing heat-scorched earth ~
                salacious summer

enflamed leaves embracing
        dalliance with wilder winds ~
		erotic fall tryst

hoary trees exposed
        brazenly displayed bosom ~
                scandalous winter

new bulbs gamboling
         commoved carefree canoodling ~
		warm sassy spring...

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The Midnight landscape


It's the vast darkness that lies ahead
and scorched earth

The breath of death beneath the wind
stripped the trees bare
 
I, the stranded boat 
in a shallow water

The nightingale
robbed of its song

I call for you

I call for you to seek me
in the vastness

The midnight landscape
without promise of a dawn

It's the world without you
My Beloved...

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thunder and lightning
are weapons of sky gods
the gods of war and tears
guardians of planet earth
regularly on rehearsal visits
with loaded cruise missiles
water gallons and tear gas
to train select nations in war
the ones on front-line defense
on combat, assault Technics
and scorched earth wastage
in preparation for war actions
in event of aliens attack 
at the end of physical times...

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I am not fit
to love or contemplate
the meaning of a
palliative fountainhead
synonymous
with winter longingness
enfolded by
sudden wantonness
of scorched earth
in summer
which stems from
a strength I lack
derivative of vulnerability
exposed to the point of
frigid fragility
being how recently
I supper alone
unable to stomach 
such weakness
your absence has shown
to crave our collective
still perfectly fit...

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No Supper

Round as a planet, dark as the galaxy
the interior looked like the last battle in Verdun
the early spring of 1914.
It had been a healthy preparation of carrots, beans
turnips, potatoes and meat.
Scorched earth tactic nothing was salvageable.
There had been warnings but human insouciance
ignored the smell emitting filling rooms 
with the bitterness of a failed supper.
The last question is, can the frying pan be saved?...

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