Over the top lads, for old Blighty! Hold the colours high!
Say a little prayer for me, for this summer day we die.
My brothers from the ripened field and blackened mill, shop floor,
Your brother in a killing field to fight a rich man’s war.
In bloodied mud and shattered wood, fight legions of the brave,
Unwitting youth, you’ll do your duty until you’re in the grave.
A sergeant greets a fresh-faced boy, “welcome to the slaughter!”
Here you die from three diseases, bullet, gas or mortar.
In arms we fight together and in leaden hails we pass,
We die amongst the filth and stench that once was verdant grass.
“In the morning we will remember them” we hear the leaders call,
Those fickle words of history, will not remember us all.
Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…
the orange tinged carnations
were a perfect complement
for the skies
and for you…
orange and blue
always remind me of you
the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…
what I am looking at,
that it’s been seven years
of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…
But there are days,
such as today
which make me
confront that reality—
I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love
Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they
make it so real for me?
I look around me
and look for that sign
Nope, not there…
I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared
I kiss the date that you were born
and walk away
my reflection on the car window
One last look around,
and then I see it…
a cat, as we drive away…
Skies now streaked purple and pink
**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…
He glances out the window,
And watches the sunset,
But he doesn’t see the beauty,
Nor the warm rays which,
Pierces through the glass,
Only the anticipation and,
Anxiety of a long night,
Carefully, he watches,
The colors change,
First the bright orange,
"God I pray this never ends…"
Filling with a deep red,
"Just a little while longer…"
Slowly softening to the,
Deceptive pinks and purples,
"Please, one more minute…"
Fading into the crimson black,
Which only night can bring,
Reluctantly, he gets ready for sleep,
Yet, knows it will never come,
He tossed and turns,
Half praying, half waiting,
Knowing what will happen,
In the way only a child can,
A light! It peeks through a crack,
In the door as a shadow floods the opening,
Quickly, the figure slips through the door,
And shuts it softly, but not without the,
Empty creak which has become so familiar,
The shadow climbs in beside him,
Touching his trembling leg, whispering,
“Hush little brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”
He struggles and writhes,
Sadly knowing he will never,
Break the grip and prays to faint,
To loss all consciousness and,
Memory of that horrible night,
Just for one night without the pain,
Just for one night without,
The cold empty feeling,
Several years pass, too many to count,
A single call, one he had never expected,
He rushes to the hospital to find,
His tormentor for so many years,
Lying on a cold, hard bed,
Able to move, but only by pushing a button,
Able to speak, but only with a whisper,
He stays by him for weeks, caring for him,
Reading to him, watching over him,
Still suffering, still unable to move,
He takes his brother home,
The day goes on, moving slow as all,
The evening comes and he,
Watches once more as the sun sets,
Carefully watching, Orange to red,
Red to purple, and as the purple turns to black,
He walks into the room where his brother lies,
Slowly, he sits next to him, holding a pillow,
Stroking his head whispering,
“Hush big brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”
The difference between right and wrong,
Can be hard to find,
But who’s there to see you,
When justice is blind?
On a slope graced with green
White marble stands in proud salute
For beneath these engraved pillars of memory
Lie the resting places of heroes
A solitary green fir looks down
As if sheltering the lost and the taken
So many names, from all walks of life
A father, brother a girlfriend or wife
On a sunny day, they glow radiant like their lives
On a dull day, they stand out against the greys
For the living, life goes on
Tomorrow is another day
Have You Been Hurt By “Religion”?
Are you tired of “religious people”
knocking at your door?
You wish they’d leave... “You can’t take it anymore!”
Have you been hurt by “church people” sometime in the past?
Somehow they hurt you... And the pain continues to last…
Have you been “wounded” by something
somebody has said?
Perhaps you wonder if “they wish you were dead…”
Perhaps there’s someone that you
may have “befriended…”
They have done something that
has hurt you and “offended.”
There’s probably many people that you wish would “go away.”
Because of something they’ve
done to “darken your day.”
I’ve been there many times… Believe me I know.
How someone’s actions or words can hurt your soul.
Even those who go to church are
often not very kind.
And they don’t hesitate to
give you “a piece of their mind.”
Religion is not the answer. Look to Jesus
and the life he gives!
He alone has the power to love
and completely forgive!
It’s only in his shed blood that you can find atonement.
He can change your life now! This very moment!
He can heal your broken heart and wounded spirit.
An everlasting joy and love... He freely gives it!
He can do what no “church” or “religion” could ever do
He can restore your life today.
And make you BRAND NEW!!!
By Jim Pemberton
Moon Walk on Your Grave
A life begun in stardom,
now, ending up in shame.
Relentless media, cruel world,
who then is there to blame.
A sadness inside,
no tears on your face.
The pain all but over,
mass confusion erase.
In wonder we watch,
can a life be explained?
Can't surface your agony,
under facade you remained.
Let's focus on the talent,
musical joy that you gave.
In peace now I pray,
moon walk on your grave.
© Rene' Brady 2009
Around that table, picture the scene
Self appointed leaders if you know what I mean
What were the topics on the Agenda that day
The Jewish race is about to pay
Who gave the right for this decision that's made
Who has the right to cleanse and degrade
To decide who lived, to decide who dies
Another chapter, I still wonder why
They came in the day they came in the night
Women and children pulled out of sight
Herded aboard like cattle and sheep
Many a family awoke from their sleep
Dazed and confused as they are taken away
Where will they be at the end of the day
From their warm houses and their warm beds
What must be going through their heads
As they travel through days and through the night
Up ahead, they see lots of lights
They depart the trucks and board the train
Their faces scared under the strain
Asking questions from family and others
Generations, sisters and brothers
Why are we here, where are we going
Windowless carriages with no way of knowing
We come to a stop, soldiers aplenty
Towers and wire, topped with sentries
What can this place be they have taken us to
As we head to large gates as they shuffle us through
Families separated, herded in file
Women and children, not one did smile
Taken to rooms where our heads were shaved
Is this the way humans behaved
Clothes discarded, as we enter the shower
No signs of water no signs of power
Doors slammed as we are all crammed in
History will recall this evil of sins
As we stand in the dark, chanting Jewish faith
Can hear the voices can't see the face
Noises above, do the showers start
The event has begun that tells us Humans apart
Questions and sighs, as walled vents show daylight
Some thing is falling then their slammed tight
A strange aroma starts to fill the air
As all around are screams of despair
Twenty minutes have passed and the quietness is rife
Two thousand people, two thousand lives
Pellets called HCN, or Hydrogen Cyanide
Contribute to this Genocide
My name is James, born 1961
In Inverness, a small Scots town
To my father Andrew, and my mother Beryl
And Billy my brother, a pair of devils
In 67, we woke one night
Our house was ablaze, full of orange light
Our neighbour next door, for whatever reason
Started a fire, it must be crazy season
We had too move to a caravan park
By this time it,s three, to make a new start
My mother Beryl decide to leave
But the three of us left, never bothered to grieve
In the next few weeks, we ended in court
Two small children, in a marriage abort
We were asked to choose either Dad or Mum
But we ignored the parent, who went on the run
As we left the court, to start a new life
We felt sorry for Dad, as his illness was rife
He never told us that he was unwell
It would upset one of his boys, as the future will tell
Then came the night all parents dread;
Being told one of his boys is nearly dead
We were going to a boys club, on a Monday night
My brother was running so far out of sight
I turned the corner to see him ahead
No!! he's been hit by a van, Boom's Boom's dead
I ran to my father, sreaming and crying
I'm finding my life,at 7 - far too trying
After the funeral, and with my father unwell
We left Inverness, our eyes a swell
To go as two, and not three as before
It's like Mother Nature closed a door
So we headed west, to a place called Fort William
Was it in the stars, cause Billy " is " William
We moved there, as the air was so pure
Hoping my father will find his cure
For whatever reason, we left the above
We found no Angel or peaceful dove
So we headed back to Inverness
Fathers health decreasing, life still a stress
Over the next few years, i was fostered and loaned
In couples houses and children's homes
It was really strange in all those places
Different people, different faces
Then on the 16th of Feb - 76,
James, i was told, your dads very sick.
The cancer had taken your father away
To be with Billy, where you'll join them one day
In 77, i joined the Navy, as i promised my dad you see.
I did'nt enjoy it, i decided to leave
Back up north, where my futures to be
I wanted to have, what my parents had lost
And that was my aim, no matter the cost
see page 2 of 2, ty..
After the quiet we all have to go
Dragged and carted by the Sonderkommando
To be dumped in pits covered by lime
A race to dispose by it's Human slime
Auschwitz, Buchenwald & Dachau slaughtered
Many a son, many a daughter
Experiments on children women and men
Some aged 90, many under 10
In 45, their end was near, how many alive would reappear
As Russians, British and US troops
Chased the Hun to their German roots
Each camp reached showed it's sordid past
Where millions of me, were massively gassed
In Auschwitz, to this present day
Birds don't fly, no animals play
The reminder is all for there to see
Those terrible days what happened to me
It's 1948, our Nation is born
From histories past, populations torn
To all who survived I wish you well
And our new born world, called Israel