"vaporised" poems
The barren landscape sends me shivers
Further enhanced by the total obliteration
The presence of ghosts still lingers
So many years after the detonation
All this desolation pictures
Like a scene from the apocalypse scriptures
A pale nuclear shadow projected eternally
The perpetual loss of harmony
A remnant showing us our absurdity
Was vaporised by the obfuscating bright
The ashen picture is the last goodbye
Relic of the tremendous light
My moods darken I want to cry
This is the last trace of a human being
a son of someone
prevented from further ageing
That from fate couldn’t run
Like a permanent echo of the disaster
a visual silent scream
like a photograph of a dreadful dream
a shout that sends a warning to us all
As we wish to forget how the balance is frail
It’s easy to disregard the detail
and be united by the same fate
that destruction at an even greater scale
it’s yet a threat not out of date
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 5:24 AM UTC
Even when all
the ruby shards
and splinters
had vaporised,
I’d pretend
to gather
invisible
broken pieces
outlined in chalk.
May 1, 2021
May 1, 2021 at 2:52 PM UTC
Orange clouds of crystal and
halos of gossamer dust,
regal and iridescent
in all of their shine encrust.
The crown of dominion
a minister of the skies,
surfaces integrity
in winds it's vaporised.
Striking down in lightening
his electric charge berates,
a celestial karma
sacred justice gravitates.
Casting shadows of chaos
with red blemishes of rage.
His sceptre in thunder bolts,
universal he's a sage.
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
It was only the shape of the mushroom cloud
That gave the game away,
It’s not that we weren’t expecting it,
It could happen any day,
But when it came on a Sunday as
We all trooped out of church,
We wondered, where was the Saviour,
Had he left us in the lurch?
By chance, the missile had missed the town
Fell thirty miles away,
Up in the distant ranges
In the vineyards of Cathay,
So much for the vintage of Semillon
I thought, with barely a frown,
Will anyone miss it once we’ve gone
And scorched that fertile ground?
It’s strange, with imminent death you feel
So suddenly detached,
Go in, and shelter from scorching heat
And shards of broken glass,
That’s all there was with the Cathay bomb
It fell so far away,
I looked at Jean and she looked at me
Was this our final day?
The sound came rumbling over the hill,
In a long, unbroken sigh,
I clung to her and she clung to me,
There wasn’t time to cry,
A moment passed and a moment more
And still we stood our ground,
I thought we might get to live some more
While God was looking down.
We’d lost our friends in the vineyards
They’d been vaporised to dust,
Jean said we’d better not think of it,
But I replied we must.
We both were seized with a single urge
As we clawed our way to bed,
And thought we couldn’t be doing this
If both of us were dead.
An eerie glow in the sky that night
Kept all of us awake,
We didn’t know where the bomb was from
Or what more we could take.
A second cloud in a mushroom stew
Rose up, there would be more,
From somewhere else where the evil grew,
The day of the mushroom spore.
David Lewis Paget
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 5:17 AM UTC
And the suns of man
Fell
Upon
The ground
Mushrooms grew from
This birth of suns to ash
These seeds did
Fall,
Blossom,
Burn
Life from the ground below,
The stalks of man
That once grew to the heavens,
Now
Crumble,
Topple,
Fallen,
Achievements of man
Life turned to dust,
The sun blinds for a moment
Then incinerated
Troubles of life vaporised,
In
a
Instant,
These creations of man
Burst to life all across the land,
And ash filled the air
Flesh,
Bone
Soul,
Burnt out of existence,
And still they blossomed
Rains of fire,
Upon the lands of green
Turned to black,
Suns birthed by man
Now extinguish,
Man from the existence of life upon the land.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
In my house there is a huge black hole.
In said hole, hide a million toilet rolls and a few stray socks.
Search as high and low as I may,
the toilet rolls and socks are out to play.
The loo rolls have been eaten by a mega munch machine.
Half of all the household socks, mislaid when they are clean.
Or maybe when still grubby.
Perhaps they're dubstep socks.
With minds of their own and they just want to rock.
Maybe they're good looking socks.
Heading out to mate.
Did you ever hear such things.
Single socks out looking for a date.
They seem to just have vaporised,
before the household eyes.
Expensive business.
Loosing socks.
I need these toilet rolls.
Need to cry.
Must be off out partying together.
I really don't know why!
(c)LIVVI
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
existing only in the memory, in the mirror
sublime image, a dotted line
wanting, crashing, writhing fatally
imaginary conversations, air drawings
no friend to call mine, intimacy denied
crunchy brain turning to foam
classes blurring, ears ringing
banging the floor till wrists are bruised
profanity, cruelty, pretty girls hating
feeling unwanted by boys (and the girls)
invisible or dissolved?
dishonoured, disgruntled, disillusioned, disenchanted
how right I was all alone
my subconscious mind sending tremors
disconnection with my own spirit
"I am" I constantly whisper to myself
in the little gaps of time I'm not dissociated
fully aware of my material,
not a vaporised form
that I assumed from the treatment of others
vapours solidify, vaporise, dissolve and vanish
Mar 30, 2025
Mar 30, 2025 at 2:30 PM UTC
Let us share a life that others only read about in books.
A messy, half-indulged affair - The well laid plans of mice and men -
Of Brobdingnagian proportions, forever lust of Laputa and Arrakis.
Frankly my dear, I don't give a ****
If flies to wanton boys are we.
A sword unrusted is without use,
And it takes two to make an accident.
I don't want to prove anything; I merely want to live,
And suit the action to the word, for those of manner born.
History is a victor's game: vaporised was the usual word.
Let our embrace be the battle, our ****** the victory,
And our present-past shall control our future.
Let us never look into the distance and the old terror
Flame up for even an instant -
Never let our minds be full of scorpions, dear wife -
The world is our oyster, don't panic.
Let Chaucer write his tales,
Let Antoinette eat her cake;
Let us show Emma what, precisely,
It is in life that looks so fine to her in books.
Certainly not an attic facing north, I'll tell you as much.
Live with me a life worth living.
We're going to have a strange life.
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 11:06 PM UTC
Time and the Earth--
The old Father and Mother--
Their teeming accomplished,
Their purpose fulfilled,
Close with a smile
For a moment of kindness,
Ere for the winter
They settle to sleep.
Failing yet gracious,
Slow pacing, soon homing,
A patriarch that strolls
Through the tents of his children,
The Sun, as he journeys
His round on the lower
Ascents of the blue,
Washes the roofs
And the hillsides with clarity;
Charms the dark pools
Till they break into pictures;
Scatters magnificent
Alms to the beggar trees;
Touches the mist-folk,
That crowd to his escort,
Into translucencies
Radiant and ravishing:
As with the visible
Spirit of Summer
Gloriously vaporised,
Visioned in gold!
Love, though the fallen leaf
Mark, and the fleeting light
And the loud, loitering
Footfall of darkness
Sign to the heart
Of the passage of destiny,
Here is the ghost
Of a summer that lived for us,
Here is a promise
Of summers to be.
1.1k
As the world dissolves into the vanity,
the speech is slurred and he can't really pay attention.
His eyes can't cease to get a mention,birds twitter coz his voice sounds better when day ends.
I really can't say when,
but since then he's been trapped..inside his mind he lives in the Garden of Weeden.
Trapped trapped trapped inside the walls of his subconscious mind, the garden of weeden, his nirvana, safe haven. Smoke inhaled, never exhaling, hold on tight, fingers clenched until the burning sensation makes him pay attention, I am saved, the garden of weeden, my nirvana.
Nirvana took my bravado,
I know I got what fuckboys don't.
When vaporised my words make them choke,
loss of their greatest hopes for what's dope.
Freedom stays cloaked in corrogated iron sheets,in a deep sleep induced by so-called "sweet dreams",but he astrals through this dimension.
Dimentia came and so did Fester,
their brains can't seem to process the controversial words.
But he does,
coz he's just on the highest peak of consciousness.
At his highest peak of consciousness, his kundalini risen, chakra's in alignment, he saw it all, the lies, the truth every ******* thing so clear to him, overwhelming to say the least, cathartic, he became catharsis.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
Small holes all around in the underground
built by humans trying to survive the sound
of mounds of earth and rock being blown around
with a deaf'ning shock, the after thought of the
nucular bomb, that one, the one and only
Lonely Atom
Surface dwellers bones blown apart
vaporised and locked in hells cellar
at the center of Hell
unable to escape the firey skies
the invisably cloaked radiated drape
Bombs falling all around
earthquakes rattle and are quick to
dismantle any structure left on the ground
Sound and safe in a hole, a cavity, a cave
my private underground hiding space
Locked and sealed
while millions lay dead in the feilds
Radiated cities and towns
people digging deep down
to be safe in the underground
Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 1:19 PM UTC
The universe spoke and with but
A single word
A hundred thousand suns
Went nova in
Madness,
Derangement,
Insanity
Had gripped these beacons
Of light,
Where there was life abundant
Vaporised,
As this giver took what was given,
From light became frenzied
As it consumed upon its self,
Light,
Darkness,
Nothing ness
Was the awakening from
"This single spoken word"
Where it burned bright
It was a black all consuming
Entity,
Nothing would escape its hunger
For all that was
Was not,
And the universe got darker ,
The universe had spoken
E
T
R
N
I
T
Y
Is over,
What was, is not, and the givers now
Took what was given in rage,
They were the darkness the universe
Kept at bay,
But eternity was dyeing
And the solar systems
Were ripped a sunder,
For the universe had only spoken once
And the big bang came forth,
Its words back then
"Eternity lives"
And life flourished,
But nothing lasts forever
Not even eternity,
So the universe had spoken a truth,
But drove those celestial beings
To madness, for they would
Live,
Die,
Reborn
Was the circle, but now the circle crumbled
Death was awaiting them
In defiance
They
"Extinguished the light"
But this was just the beginning
As the word spread
Darkness,
Blossomed,
Spawning
The truth, this is when eternity dies,
Life was a flame now extinguished,
Now that eternity is dead
And the universe turned cold
All was as it was before once again waiting for a word..
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
#*Lost in the now
Present somewhere
Reading words
Essence vaporised
Lost to time
Moments afore
Happy is my world
Love my people
Yet ,
When Words on the wheel
Redundant
Elusive, they feel
I feel alienated with self
Life’s busy
Too Many chores
Listen to my music
Remembering loved ones
Barely making calls
A Recluse
Have I become one*#
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC
I see the flash,
The sky burns bright,
I stare for a second,
I see clouds vaporised,
In the last seconds of my life.
My eyes dissolve,
Evaporating like water,
the sockets now blackened and empty,
Where I once saw sight.
Flesh burns flaking off the bone,
The flash so bright,
My shadow is burnt on to the ground below.
Flesh turned to ash,
Blown away in the blast,
With such force,
The shock wave knocks my soul,
To the heavens in it fiery blast.
Buildings topple,
blown apart,
Tree,s burn like match sticks,
The dead litter the ground.
Like dead snow,
Ash from the scorched floats around,
This mushroom that has the power of the sun,
If only for a moment,
This killer
That is called a nuclear bomb.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC
Are you keeping it together?
when your wife has given up
all her fuel spent
wanting to join her
dead mother
Are you keeping it together?
when your daughter
has turned into a lovesick,
dumb *****
her dreams, aspirations
vaporised
Are you keeping it together?
when your son
is as withdrawn
as ever
and isolated, sheltering
in his own little control room
Are you keeping it together?
Oh father, dear father
your false positive
is given away by your
little explosions
Are you alarmed that your
little family is falling out?
Oh this nuclear family
so full of potential
but we've been so marred
by our little tragedies
Too much, too much
the pressure
we put on each other
We are about to BURST
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
Carving a polystyrene heart.
Turning the white shape,
In hands held close to my chest.
Slicing with the sharp blade,
Suddenly my hands are stained
Scarlet - can a styrene heart bleed?
Just ink on my sweaty hands.
The carved heart takes its place
In a sand mould - vaporised
By molten metal to become
My cold, cast iron, heart.
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 4:38 AM UTC
On the journey of finding myself,
I found a broken heart.
We went on an adventure together,
No questions asked.
We bonded on shared love for music,
Movies,books and abstract art.
We huddled when the road bumped,
Then....we drifted apart.
With a constant ache for more,
We Kept trying to make it last.
An unspoken rule to let go,
To not think about the future past.
A rocky Mountain,
With smooth silk lane.
A fresh perspective of storm,
Just to keep us sane.
An impossible possibility,
An uncharacteristic faith.
A bond formed with respect,
No caring for mutual gain.
An attachment. ..or attraction...
Didn't know the name.
Just a bug ruptured,
Driving us insane.
One couldn't express,
One couldn't hide.
Push and pull of desire,
Love came in blind.
Few smiles. ...immensely expressive eyes.
One look of naked emotions. ...
The dam broke....and the ice vaporised.
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 7:12 AM UTC
With the last match in my box
I'll set myself alight
So you may feel the warmth
One solemn tear doesn't even last
As it's vaporised by the heat
Of this lonely broken heart
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 3:47 PM UTC
**** love. Its a fool's disease with no cure conpulsively offering up pieces, soon fragments then molicules of a heart to be vaporised at will; resigned to watch yourself dissapearing a little more each day hoping to manifest the value of it in a heart you dont own or truly undrstand all the while choosing this pain over and over again. Only the loved wins. The lover always pays.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 5:10 PM UTC
The mod, my heart
The clouds, my blood
It feels like the coil needs replacing
And I know how to do it
For some reason I can't
Perhaps the gauge of kanthal
Is just not right for my building post
It matters not the cotton I use
If I continue with cheap liquids
For a momentary fix
Inevitably I will poison myself
And those around me
Which in itself is a personal sin
How do I set myself free,
And not only of nicotine?
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 11:17 AM UTC