"warhead" poems
I am as bitter as pure cocoa
As sour as a warhead
More layered than a jawbreaker,
To protect myself from someones
sweet tooth.
But I hope one day,
Someone sees that I am actually
Sweeter than taffy,
More vulnerable than cotton candy,
And more delightful than Turkish delights.
I hope to fulfill someone's cravings.
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
I was born in grave clothes
Raised in grave clothes
Unaware I even bathed in grave clothes
I didn't know the extent of my decay
Like the bones were expose in my face but I didn't have reflective glass to see my flesh
I was on a rotten path
Death would have been the only prize at the end of my race
Strongholds wrestled my thoughts and subdued my brain
Bone marrow deep I was linked to Adam
Lord knows I wasn't Abel
Dna tied to blood imprinted on the ground I had more in common with Cain
It's true a heart beat of sin causes death to course through vains
I wondered how could I be treated
Something was missing something was needed
To my shock it was Jesus
Clear! He got my heart beat right
With that resurrection power
Made my heart see light
He changed my life
I started to realize that the same power that raised Christ from the dead
Was the same power that lived in me
That does more than allow me to breathe .
It brings life back to limbs riddle with rigor mortis
It's reverses decomposition brings back what death has stolen
It's uncontrollable like a lighting storm.
It's unadulterated
Once it hits
It's changes landscape like when a nuclear warhead is detonated
Hoover dam generated power
Turbine engine spending power
Lift the dead out of sin power
Tectonic plate shifting, erecting mountains from plains power
By one name only can we be saved power
Second coming cracking the sky power
All knees shall bow and all tongues shall comply power
Corruptible turned into incorruptible in a instant power
Rebirth repositioned repurposed repented power
Turn what seems to be a lost into a win power
It is finish the precursor to the release of infinite power
I could never be the same because the spirit lives in me gives me power
My arteries are laced with a burning flame
A roaring wind, a groaning earth, a raging sea crashing waves
The impact of several elements crush the chains of a slave
It's the same power that said come forth Christ friend walks out the grave
The same power that moved the stone a borrowed tomb turned to a cave
It's the power of the Resurrection
In a world full of aborted life
It breeds conception
In a world that attempts to abort Christ
The church still cries out in reverence
Changed death for us now it's portal
Changed lives of stop watches into immortal
Resurrection power a glimpse into the eternal
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC
If *** is a weapon, she shoots to ****
She left a scar, there,
Beneath my chest for the thrill.
The pain refuses to abate. And like the throbbing of a toothache,
She numbs my will.
If looks could **** she’d be a weapon
Of mass destruction.
And the hollow she wrought with ease in me,
Betrays her lack of skill.
Now, like a warhead of doomed love, she strikes,
And blasts my cursed will.
Yet I’d have her sent on me still...
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 11:27 PM UTC
If I was a candy
I'd be a sour
warhead.
Pink.
The longer you
let me sit,
the sweeter I get
and at the very
center
is a gooey bit
that goes down
easy.
Everybody loves
a peppermint,
but I'm not that
plain.
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 2:45 PM UTC
These are the end times.
Judgment is coming
For our iniquities and apathy
For the ****** of the unborn
For worshiping money
For voting Democrat
For buying non-biodegradable products.
Or so they say.
I don't enjoy discussing
Or even hearing
About eschatology
When and how and why the world will end
Which is what seems to pervade the air at home
Every time the conversation suffers an unfortunate lull.
Some cathartic culmination
Of a Deity's wrath
No doubt for all the
*** drugs, and rock & roll
Humanity indulges in
On a daily basis.
Hearing about the end --
Demons born to women
Automatons wearing human skins
Talking animals
Seems so redundant.
The signs had been here all along.
We've been living with them for ages now.
What if
Instead of a violent, sudden cataclysm,
The end comes
As an implosion
Drawn out over billions of years?
What if the second law of thermodynamics
Is the prophesy
Doomsday prophets overlooked?
There are no aliens coming
To **** and subjugate this planet:
We're already here.
This is the end
We've been simmering in it
Fighting and spitting and cursing
In puddles of our filth and hate
The end has been unfolding
For the past few millennia
As humanity continues to multiply
Like rats beneath New York.
And here we are
Making plans
Getting married
Hoarding money
Getting **** drunk
Too busy preventing
The little apocalypses
Of our petty lives.
We're planting gardens
In the shadow of a warhead.
We all saw it coming
We were just too busy to care.
My world's already ending
In bits and pieces anyway
At random intervals
Every time I let someone in
And she inevitably leaves
Taking a piece of me with her
My sun dies in agonizing degrees
Even a quiet infatuation
Eats away at me
Crumb by crumb.
All those theories about the end
Forget them.
I'm living my own apocalypse
And surrounded by human-sized
People-shaped versions
Of the Four Horsemen
So shut up already.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
Said she would love him in winter
And summer, regardless of what the
World might do, even sin and Lucifer.
Though Apollo should forge his warhead
In the fiery furnace of the sun,
Though Diana vacates not the bed
Of succulent roses in the morn;
Yet, with him said she would tarry.
But she left him unannounced;
With another has she been hooked.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
burn down matters
burn down stupidity
burning cry for love in
Newton Town.
********* phones
bombing clones
leave a message in
Newton Town.
warhead or war
washed out mountains
burning rivers and burning hands in
Newton Town.
forever nothingness
all streets are all empty
you know nothing happens in
Newton Town.
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
You are hideous and horrible
Your voice is like nails on a chalk board
As you taunt younger children
You are like a monkey on stilts
The way you try to fit in and know you don’t
Your face is like a cat that just ate the world sourest warhead
When you scowl and glare at your new enemies and old friends
You are like a snake
The way you sneak your good grades into the trash
Then you lie and say you failed
You are like a horrible gossip channel
Making fun of others to bring you higher
You are like an ongoing cycle
Changing all the time
Like time
The way you keep going and never look back
You are dumber than a box of rocks when it comes to life
Why?
Because you gave up on your true friends for fake ones
You stepped over a dull dollar for a shiny dime
You are like a siren
Making people see what you want them to see
But not you what you are
Just another nerd like me.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
Sun Metal Warhead
Back from the New Dead
Through the stars to capture me
Rapture car through galaxies
Who would've guessed, he had a pistol in his pocket
Barrel through the waistband baby
**** it, **** it, **** it
Went off like a nuclear wasteland rocket
Mediterranean
Silver bikini clad
My little Alien
Come sit on your landing pad!
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 3:52 PM UTC
The civilian islanders living on Guam have only 14 minutes to flee North Korean missiles.
What will they do when the enemy birds are fired?
So few minutes to get to the shelter.
Will the shelter be enough to protect them?
Nobody will know what type warhead the missiles carry.
Not till it detonates and unleashes devastation.
Some people don’t care about the threat.
They chill out at the beach surfing or reading.
Or go to a barbeque and drink ice cold beer.
And go to a club with a pretty lady and dance close.
Who cares about a fat madman’s threats?
If he fires a single missile it will either miss or be splashed.
Then his nation will be reduced to ash and rubble.
North Korea failing to exist except only in memory.
Adding to the list of dictators and regimes that were ******* insane.
This latest one targeting Guam due to the American base
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 1:33 AM UTC
Igloo
It was cosy in the igloo
A nice secluded place
Safe from the weather
Nice and quiet
No outside distractions
Just right for me
This is a special place
For the storage of bombs
Very special bombs
Thermonuclear ones
Each with a warhead
1 megatons of explosive
Amongst the biggest made
Held in NATO’s arsenal
Ready to be used
Drop them on Russia
Hit their bases
And ICBM sites
Drop them by F-16
Or the new F-35
So we win the war
World War 3
Defeat Neo Soviet forces
And inherit the earth
A scorched world of ash
Will my special igloo
Be fine after the war?
For it’s my home
Here amongst the bombs
I love the bombs
In 2 days
War starts...
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 12:47 AM UTC
The pious pie squared
With erudite crumbs
By worthy chefs before me;
Topped with faith, theory
And porous facts;
Sliced by a dead president
In a top hat;
Tainted finger wagging
My tail
From school to jail;
Loaded bus painted
Greed, white and blue;
Driven at the speed of life
By an atheist
Who once knew God;
Then traded his peace
For ten pounds of sin
And a nuclear warhead....
~ P
(#TenPoundsofSin)
3/21/14
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
I have special gifts, but I'm misunderstood
(It’s whispered I’m mad as a hatter).
That's because, when I choose, I'm a wisp of smoke;
A thin tendril of tenuous matter.
Sometimes, I'm a two dimensional plane,
Like a steam-rollered cat, only flatter.
I can be a glass sphere, full of poisonous gas,
Contemplating a reason to shatter,
Or a hot detonator on a hydrogen warhead
(Think lit cherry bomb—only fatter).
Today, I'm the link between monkey and man,
I don’t know if I’ll talk or I’ll chatter.
I just know that I’m special, very special, indeed,
Because when I show up—people scatter.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
emotions suprressed
for 5 years or less
i'm not complex
i'm just basically depressed
this weight on my chest
a plate on my breast
shields me from jest
bulletproof vest
bullets of happiness
cardiac arrest
please put me to bed
pass my last test
then let me face death
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 6:59 AM UTC
An unpredictable man has hardware
Flouting its strong resolve for us to see
A missile projecting with awful scare
The world pleads his insane obsession's flee
Diplomacy's will urges a quelling
Our quaking planet seems truly unsafe
Danger's loud note he's lately spelling
We're hearing the meaning of rasping chafe
Containing his ambitions no easy task
A deaf ear chosen by commo warhead
Why is the question we must now ask
The provocation feels like a dire dread
International sanctions ***** him down
May they limit the threat's barbed crown
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 8:07 PM UTC
THE REAGANS KILLED MY BEST FRIEND
THOUSANDS MORE DEAD, THE PLAGUED MASSES PLEADING TO BE MADE CLEAN
THOUSANDS MORE INCARCERATED, THE JUNK SICK DESPERATION VOMITING UP DEMONS IN JAIL CELLS
THOUSANDS MORE HOMELESS, DEEMED WORTHY OF NOTHING MORE THAN SPARE PENNIES AND BARELY CONCEALED DISGUST
I will not let the blood be washed away
I will not let history paint you as Saint
I will not let you be made holy
I will not become another casualty in your war
Not while I still have a voice
I spit on your grave
I see red
I bleed red
I am red
I am a rifle
I am a nuclear warhead
I am a Contra weaponizing loopholes in the law to **** my enemies with
I am Osama bin Laden as the Crucifed Christ
I am the AIDS victim drinking drop by drop of toxic blood while the hawks of war stifle laughter from gay jokes in their capitals
I am the ****** bashing my head into a wall hoping to destroy the itch before it destroys me
I am the beggar who the wealth never trickled down to
I am the mental patient met with closed doors anf nothing but ammunition to soothe the screaming in my head
I am the workers on strike chiming out the death knell of the unions and my own autonomy
I am the Soviet child living one badly timed joke from holocaust
I AM THE DEATH MASK OF YOUR ANNIHILATION
I AM THE DAMAGE DONE
I AM WASHINGTON BURNING DOWN
I AM MOSCOW INSOMNIAC
I AM HINCKLEY IN MY DREAMS I **** YOU EVERY NIGHT
I AM WATCHING YOU RISE AGAIN
I AM TERRIFIED OF YOUR SURVIVAL
I AM READY TO DIE BEFORE I LET YOU RESUME CONTROL
I AM SICK OF LIVING IN YOUR SHADOW
I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC
Its a divine day to think about
The apocalypse, to walk along
The final shores before the
Tsunami take me!
I take a walk in the night wonder,
I look on hopeful stars and think
If the inter- continental ballistic
Nuclear warhead will strike down the skies.
Sometimes in abstract silence,
I see comets the size of a football field,
They pass me by and say hello,
But they never seem to end the world!
And standing upright looking into
The oblivion, I feel the cool breeze
And sense the Ice Age coming on,
Then it all comes to a stop:
I realise I am just a man with
Too much time on his hands
Watching networks news and
Find that the end of the world is
Everyday.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC
Love sits like a rock, ticks like a clock,
drops like a thermonuclear warhead.
Never ending, resists bending, snaps
back like a palm tree after a beach storm.
Unfazed by summer's heat, talks on a beat,
grand standing through each of our eyes.
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 12:45 PM UTC
A pressing matters
Ink
Bleeds through the
Thin
Newspaper pages
We read the times
To see
Things we cannot fully
Under-
Stand.
Bullets, they **** off
The page
And into our homes.
Bombs, assassinations, whispering
Drones.
Are we lucky to be
So distant
Or will this create a
Disadvantage?
The streets they are
Cold today,
Perhaps soon to be filled
With righteous panic.
When the clock strikes war
Who
Do you think will be
More prepared?
The violent survive,
So
What of the fair?
A man of war
Holds
Their gun
Like a nuclear warhead
Like an AK
Like a sabre
Like a rock
Like a stick
Like two hands
To protect
What they think
To be
Theirs.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
Words will love time
Family soul looked dead
Mother night, Brother fear
Best dark, crooked dog
Hears invisible moment
Stay, bear, speak easy space language
Remember hard space days
Language spaces cry
Christmas music power
Beauty seeking kiss turns to Irish evening news
Sun met snow going to watch miles
Die waiting, making clever men strong
Cat lives learn pure poetry
Wide storm a false friend
Morning feels close, feet pain weaving peace
Help poets let eternity cut fruit apart
Blue depression wins, full darkness leaves
Seasons retire watching river
Sea sorrow sold joy
Feeling deep sound things
Abandoned blame returns
Blind hearing grace checks wild mistake
Running, driven-spent moments
Sorrow creating joy
Hold hands, find play
Lost lake born a pale moon
Fresh dance worth breathing
A breathing garden paradise
Cool quicksand reaching a slow wait
Bless living fires' straight rain
Forgive driving, thriving resentments
Listen wisdom, tomorrow care needed
Glory course closer, savor ordinary beach comfort
Search, child, higher purpose tune
Human blood hearts rose, amazed
Alpha lessons support warhead, cruel promises cease
Remind denying Miami
Doppelgänger prophets flash resistance
Mourn cruising, drinking, washing tears
Women aware, believing Today broke
Fly locked room, pulling neglected history
Leaving social standing, familiar village wedding
Revealing cursed leaping boy
Gambling high Democracy
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
Vaporized
Nuclear skies
Dehumanized
Before your eyes
Let shadows stain
Your throne of lies
And downfall reigns
Fill your warhead
With haunting cries
Of burning dread
When no replies
Or tears are shed
For the melted, faceless dead
No peace is spread
No words revised
In treaties forcing all complies
Pledge to disarm
Then supersize
The god complex
Hellbent disguise
Is worn instead
As profits rise
For sycophantic
Suits and ties
The circling vultures' hunger fed
On stuffing pocket carnage prize
Then hollow carcass speech is read
And every empty promise said
Selling us this freedom guise
While purchasing our dark demise
And sharing it
With our allies
Until all cents of life is bled
At the expense of those who've pled
To end the violence
We devise
An age of terror we have led
As hate and fear in flesh embed
A fusion bomb
That greed has bred
The human race
Runs ever-red
Mankind erased
And in its stead
A fallout zone
Is our deathbed
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
After harmlessly crossing your border
you take our friendship hostage
guarding your perimeter with sandbags of arbitrary etiquette
a no man's land of manners separates us
you snipe from your defensive position
so I retreat and start strategizing.
Consulting my generals to discuss your tactics
they advise me to start stockpiling weapons
and to start looking for weaknesses.
There is a counteroffensive to your intentions.
While you were destroying my satcoms
a successful infiltration of your command center was accomplished.
Once your defenses were understood
your flanks appeared vulnerable.
Blind spots were revealed.
You only sign a treaty once your resources start depleting
then you ignore the rules I'm reading to give me a beating.
So I'm building up my arsenal and
enriching my uranium in this centrifuge
where we spin in circles.
My nuclear option is prepared and capable.
Pacifism is more appealing than violence
but when you try to erase who I am I must take a stand.
Armed with an ability to attack
I get a warhead on my shoulders
found from old schematics
you shared with me while I fought your enemies.
They were never thrown away
now they're dusted off and revisited
to make your walls crumble
and incinerate you flag.
Your nation starts hiding from what they were once confiding
after my nukes obliterate your infrastructure.
Rebels and runners fill fallout shelters and basement bunkers
hiding from the radioactivity in the air.
Everyone's death equals success proving I'm best
so I develop a permanent wartime economy
and fire missiles mercilessly.
There's no difference between fighters and civilians
because some insurgents are chameleons
so I **** them by the millions.
The more weapons I get
the more needless death
until the only nations left standing
are those that have stockpiled weapons of their own.
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 6:13 AM UTC
The sound of crimson rain descending from large, black clouds and landing with a vengeance on reinforced steel echoed solemnly throughout the night sky.
This post-demolition city was destroyed beyond recognition after the warhead hit.
Barren streets decorated with scattered rubble and the smell of decay saturated the night air. The radiation caused the rain to turn the color of blood; the blood of the millions of people that the projectile disintegrated.
Just North of the blast radius, a small, barely standing apartment complex stood ***** from the broken ground.
On the second floor of this hotel of hell, two teenagers, a boy and a girl, were quickly becoming men and women; their pleasure loud, but never heard.
Above them on the third floor, a woman hung **** from the ceiling. Her sickly body covered in boils from the radiation.
Two floors below, seven skeletons were spread equidistant from each other. The boy and girl had moved them surreptitiously after doing something with them that even I would not in right mind divulge.
The fourth floor was a horrible sight. A dying baby screaming helplessly; his mother and father lying dead beside him; they both shot themselves. The baby was born with six tiny, black eyes, and no legs to crawl. He’d take his last breath before the sun rose in the morning.
The boy finished his act, and took a large puff of a cigarette. The girl, completely satisfied and lying in blood, chose the needle. The boy followed.
It was their escape. A way to leave the pain of being orphaned by the war. Every single loved one and friend was slaughtered like cattle by the enemy. It was only them now.
This was their first night at the makeshift hotel, and they came willing to die. Together. They knew the radiation would overcome their sickly bodies.
There was nothing left to live for.
No place to call home.
Hölle auf Erden.
O night divine.
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 10:10 PM UTC
Whenever I cut I feel okay at first-
I feel calm and mellowed down-
and then the wave of guilt hits me.
Its almost like eating a Warhead candy
and forgetting how repulsively sour they are.
Or like forgetting to stir your Greek yogurt-
then it leaves a foul taste at the back of your throat.
Instead of a terrible sour flavor,
or a nasty taste at the back of my throat-
I get the urge to ***** after I cut.
I don't know whether its guilt... or what.
But I hate it
-Lynn
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC