There's no light at the end of this.
There's no glimmering hopes;
No, and they all lived happily ever after;
No Disney princess kissing her prince.

To whom it may concern,
It is 2113 and the sky is still blue;
The oceans are still wet and undiscovered;
The air still toxic.

To whom it may concern,
It is 2113 and the sky is blue with less purple hue;
The oceans are still wet
With no life to be discovered;
The air is still toxic - even more so now -
But showing signs of steadily decreasing.

To whom it may concern,
It is 2113
And I am the last human to have survived,
Or so I know of.
It is 2113 and the days grow hotter;
Breathing grows harder.

To whom it may concern,
I'm sorry
Because, to whom it may concern,
My race is dead
Or dying.

© Shane Leigh
So, I decided to do an apocolyptic theme to this poem. Not sure what motivated this poem really but I did feel like I needed to get it out. (: Enjoy.

2

Twinkle twinkle Stan Leethal story
of the Fuehrer as Uri Geller on roids.
Overlord lovely in a cape chromarinated
in shells of murex, wearing unionsuit exterior pants
(his are a rhapsody in rhodopsin)
over longjohns of magenta spandex.
And brightred buckethead
helmet, which deflects ESPeeping by pilgarlic psychic Prof X,
coz genetic raggy dolls’ rex transcends Brand X!

Tinker , tailor? Tut, I wanna be the Fuehrer as Uri Geller on roids,
supernally surfin’ Sheffield steel shoah of swarming saucepans,
shaving blades and stanleeknives and saws and Saabs
and copcars and ironore meteorites. Also, the surgical
instruments of the street and the shanks of medical science;
sets of stainless steakspears of infomercial provenance;
scraggy skyscrapers got by the girders , horizontally hurled
as if Godzilla’s ghost improvised  9/11esque javelins.

Magneto’s only weakness is that he repels fridge magnets,
and same re pelmatic neodymium of toy taikonauts for spacewalks.
No matter when he can magicnetise
fridges to fly with a flock of killer falling filing cabinets
in an ironfilingsswirling firmament!

Whether noble or base, the metal in everything mangled
into motion at his megalomagnetic fingerclick,
raising a scrapmetal maelstrom thru mere cerebration,
which shines retribeautifully
as it veers quadrivially at some veerlocity,
on fourwayspliting beeline to align with
recycled hails of sharpnel shellcases,
as well as virgins to internal ballistics,
all the bashful bullets never barrelistically trajected,
yet volitating with a vengeance to
Washington and Salem, Berlin and Genosha.
For starters.

talia b Sep 6

all is dark
and the sun set for the last
time, tonight. we watched it sink / you and you and all the versions of me and them.
they'll drown
battered in the tide. it takes them, and me. it takes and eats. we hear it feast, bellowing. i rage at the stars for watching and at me, for wishing / i break my own hands
in pounding on the earth, begging her to open /

did you know that our world
is ending
and i've never seen the ocean?

there are so many things i wanted to do

insta: raggedhearts
wordpress: raggedhearts.wordpress.com
tumblr: softgum
twitter: softgum/corpsehearts
luqz Sep 6

The mountains of glory block the sun's rays
from lighting the aftermath
of a stormy situation
that wreaks the emotions of the weak
Death has taken his toll
and souls of the decapitated roam free
as the earth rumbles and spits fire
while the wind hustles and spins
Engulfing everything in sight,
the nigh apocalypse commenced.

Leaves rustle, trees begin to brittle.
Little by little shall the earth be acquittal.
The end was near,
The end is here.

Let us be thankful, that of 10,000 days, there is only one
when the moon rises to hide the sun.
When the black disc creeps slowly to  cover
our life, our energy—our mother.
Masters of our destiny? We’re not—
we only live as long as the sun is hot.
Sunlight, nitrogen and water
gave birth to life on Earth, and time’s daughter,
our species, perhaps the last,
rules/destroys this planet, though
no eternal shadow has been cast.
The gift we’ve been given, we have spit upon--
turned brown the green lands and
boiled the seas, without remorse.
There is no other mother nurturing a second blue green ball--
no home away from home for which to plot a course.

Used undeveloped x-ray film yesterday to watch the eclipse.

-I've got bored of words.
-You tergiversate... Small world.What this bouquet of flowers is doing in the intermediate?It's a date?
-Ah... such prolixity... More champagne?
-What's the point?
-My aim? Mmm... to try to oscullate you.
-... What?... Such profane elixir do you desire?
-It'll be more than tasty.It's alleged...
-But, don't you distinguish the mayhem's reflection below?
-Your solicitude.. Ah!... What a nice champagne.Hmm... Cake? By the other way or not there's nothing at the ceiling.
-You've perused my protocol... A small slice, please.
-A kiss a skirmish.Palatable as this recipe... Well... apart from an armageddon...
-Stop pushing on boy.
-I already vanquished the inception, you know...
-Catastrophe is your trophy, but I disavow your apocalypse.
-I was expecting something more digestible.How's the alcohol?
-Standstill...
-Hm!... As everything surrounding us.
-Ahhh... No... They just don't move.. don't have gravity...
-Funny waiter... Hovering waiter.Did you emend your canon?
-Champagne and desserts will not litigate your anticipation.You know.How strange is...
-The room? No... Is normal for it to circle upside down.
-A hug?
-In this desert? With all those people?
-They are frozen, and... before I veto, quivering in a hurt heart.
-Blown sand... popped champagne... Oh, I didn't notice the light fixture's embroidery.
-The sun's in the bottom.Look up... Its obumbration is into the typhoon.
-Standstill, nothing's synchronized...
-Is your tranquility dissipated? gone?...
-No.If isn't yours.
-I just still want that hug.
-Hmmm... I forgot you're a cold person...
-And you a hot girl... Irony...
-You'll melt...
-I'm apt to it...

Then an aurora flash
And splashing glass
Accompanied by springing sparks
Shattered bass walls
Begetting noctilucent dark and dusk
A hurricane, breathing the sun
Just dust to dust

Shruti Gauba May 24

Does anyone hear to the prayers that escape their lifeless lips,
from hearts that have stopped beating after the deathly apocalypse?

Or lend an ear to the muted screams of those kids shot down with guns,
or to the roar of all the houses blown up with bombs and cannons?

Or just listen to muffled cries or look at eyes clouded with tears,
or think of the motherless child and the terror his heart bears?

But all the noise is just unheard, and what do they even they cry for?
because we believe that everything is fair; in love and in the war.

Just to spread the message: Terrorism is a big thing to be just ignored.  War is real, and it goes beyond the numerical values of the amount of people that have died or the buildings that have been shattered. The trauma and the terror of it resides in the heart of each innocent person who lost a home, lost a loved one or lost their own life just to a meaningless battle between two clans or countries. Their lives are changed forever, and they try to seek help and talk to us about it. It's time that we hear to them.
jdotingham May 10

"look, the clouds are coming with him" a shriek from a crowd -
mistaken fat boys for men,
the four horsemen turn around, deny everything;
      :one is a snaky man,
      :one has a golden tan,
      :one's land is overflowing,
      :&one's land is overthrowing/

(fire then transforms sand, wind then transforms man).

Breeze-Mist May 7

I wonder what the dinosaurs thought
When the asteroid fell and wrought
Destruction and chaos
For fate may befall us
In a century, we too could be caught

I just saw the second news article this week (first was Washington Post) saying that if humanity doesn't get the planet together or colonize another planet in 100 years, we're extinct.

Oh the horror and the consequence
for mankind disappeared
up came the ants, and roaches
all of our chips, cashiered

The battle for supremacy
stalemate went on for years
the ants building colonies
as roaches build, careers

In the end it was inevitable
ants just not able to compete
the roaches all were lawyers
laws, legislation, to secrete

"We need to build more cities!'
the ants did cry, bemoan
but the roaches held the leans and notes
and every inch of land and ant, they owned

Ya gotta wonder, maybe :D maybe not....
In the end, it's all about economic battles, even if your not human. ;D
Next page