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Death History Poems | Death Poems About History

These Death History poems are examples of Death poems about History. These are the best examples of Death History poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Epic | |

Black Diamond Night

Black Diamond Night (a coal miner’s cemetery) 

Where the ebony, we call “NIGHT”,
Old black rocks sit under the twilight.
Diamond shape eyes unclear and lonely, 
Sinister through hostile spirits only,

I stumble across these stones without a bone.
A solitary confinement alone,
From a barren zone the light transcend.
Only in time, our minds will mend.

Endless valleys and limitless stones.
These bones- these bones they sit alone.
The abyss, of rotten cavities with no fill,
A system no power can unwell the drill
The blood that passed over without a spill.
Peaks collapse into a spellbinding chill.
They are trapped! They are trapped!
Another diamond in the rough. 
Is what they left.

Obsessed with the dead without a death. 
A death that impatiently awaited their last breath.
Gushing, into the gems of dead chemistry,
Diamonds holding its own intensity,
These lonely graves, on top of sycamore hill.
Coal mining hearts that will never heal.
If only shiny eyes could see?
These lonely bones inside of me!
Moving in every direction possible
Flowing in every direction noticeable.
Sockets without eyes.
Stones hiding under the cobalt skies.
The mad sparkles, the madness dies.
Throughout this mess, we held in the blasphemous.
Intervening lots of gems so miraculous.
  
Into a stone of self-religion,
A black night filled of legions.
Acknowledging the soul's capacity of free.
Near the frail bones that sit alone,
Alone they sit in a morbid home.
Through a path unclear and all alone,
Troubled by the visions of my own stone.
Where the night takes place in the dark. 
The ebony rides under the diamond bark.
Along with the coal miners who never got to see the;
“Diamonds of another day!”

:) my own personal favorite poem


Details | Rhyme | |

Forgotten Heroes of the Somme

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.


Details | Rhyme | |

Lest We Forget

In churned up soil the poppy rose 
On top of death, still steadily grows 
And in our minds we see the crosses 
That lie in rows and count our losses 

Blood that drips from tiniest bloom 
Beloved children, lost from the womb 
Their essence blown upon the earth 
For infinity, will show their worth 

And so they marched by decree 
A war they fought, so we could be free 
The poppy, how we remember them now 
So in silence we do reverently bow 

One single day, just once every year
To remember all the horror and fear 
To give thanks and praise, to those in need 
Who saved us through unselfish deed 

For so young when they said goodbye 
With no idea that so many would die 
In Flanders Fields where poppies grow 
Innocence, now lays buried in each row 

For those that did return safely home 
Their spirit lost and so had flown
To fly away among the peaceful skies 
With friends and larks with carefree eyes

In the thunder hear the roar of guns
Calling to all our native sons
Arise, arise, from sleep once more
For once again, there will be war

In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow 
They cover our loved ones, buried below 
Like a blanket, they protect all within 
From a world that is ravished by sin 

More souls will join them as the years go by 
More wars will be fought, as the lark does cry 
More fields will be filled, with our dead 
And poppies will mark their graves in red

"Lest we forget and more shall die"
"In Flanders Fields our loved ones lie"

 


Details | Narrative | |

How a Blue Rose Came to be

Once upon a time, many years ago,
There was a sweet and lovely -  red, red Irish rose,
That was plucked prematurely, from the garden vine;
A budding beauty, taken in her prime.

She was laid to rest, upon the death, of a lovers dream;
Upon a chest of ebony, where lie, his would-be  Queen; 
Lowered deep into the depths, of the church yard cemetery;
Her scarlet petals, wilting in the summer breeze.

Then the earth begin to fall, like autumn leaves;
Upon  her petals, and the chest of ebony,
From above her tomb, where stood the grieving groom
Weeping , weeping,  like a willow tree.


Then the sky begin  to disappear, amid that mournful cry,
As  tears - from above, fell from that lovers eyes,
And came to rest, like dew drops on that  Irish rose, 
As she disappeared beneath the earth, there in his grief below 
                                          
                            	 ~~~~~
		
In time, he laid a stone of ivory - upon her grave;
Etched deeply  - with the promise he had made:
To love his Irish Rose - forever and a day.

                                  ~~~~~

The years and all their seasons came and went
And a million lonely tears were cried and spent
Upon her grave where everyday he kneeled and prayed
And dreamed of her until his dying day.  


		~~~~

The epigram has long since faded on the ivory stone   
That still stands alone   upon her grave
Where from the million tears of love he gave
A seemingly impossible - blue, blue rose has grown.

 
 Written:  June 18, 2010

Note:  To late for the contest,
but I thought I would post it anyway. 










Details | Epic | |

Echoes of the Stone

ECHOES IN THE STONE

No one can turn back the hands of time
Reliving the war,  TEXAS her independence
The tombs so deep, where real hero's fought and fell
A place so precious, sacred in every hold
A timeless journey, with no stop to heal
To find your eyes upon this treasure's glaze
Hearing stories not found in fairy-tale books
Finding GRACE in this AMAZING place
The legendary ALAMO, over freedom, a ghost town
Walking by the thousands, beyond this land
Outnumbered 
Echoes in the stones
A painful event, UN erased

Defenders of the ALAMO, gathered to unite
With their life's they put up an honorable fight
Heroes who embraced a defeat in March 1836
A battle deeply wounded overnight
Bravery in their hearts
No time to be scared.
Where the wind now blows,
Echoes in our souls.

With one touch, embrace the south wall
Hearing whispers, sad echoes-I call
Chills traveled down my spine
Standing among all heroes who are still buried, 
In their home at the ALAMO
Echo's in the stone
Proud of the ALAMO.

Echoes in the stone 
Where a hero still stands tall
Heros even beyond their last breath, 
Death being their only bail
Heroically fighting with their own will and liberty
In hopes that justice would prevail
The ALAMO rebuilt, standing strong
Full of life, in the center of San Antone'

The voices, the scream, 
Piercing the stone
Fighting till their death
"Remember the Alamo!"
The echoes in the stone, a hero's home
Locked inside each stone of eyes
Heroes who died,
Cried their last words
"VIVA THE ALAMO!"

   SKAT


Details | Verse | |

The Dogs Of Warsaw

They slipped their chains and spread their brains
On walls of bricks and mortar,
Bared their teeth in their belief,
Prepared themselves for slaughter.

Howled aloud in the smoke and cloud
That prowled the streets and alleys,
The sounds they made in their parade
Echoed down the valleys.

They shed their blood in crimson flood,
It stained the roads and gutters,
And people hid and crossed themselves
Behind their doors and shutters.

The gunfire cracked and bodies stacked
As one fell on the other,
When it was done and lived there none,
Each sister mourned each brother.

The sun it rose, diseased and froze
Out on a wracked horizon,
The jackboot bastards drank their fill
And cried out: “What’s our poison!”

Black as soot on a winter night,
Thin with eyes red to the core,
The tourists armed with skulls and guns
Beheld the Dogs of Warsaw.

Torn like rags in a threshing mill,
Shapeless sprawl on a killing floor
Yet history will not forget
The butchered Dogs of Warsaw.


Details | Couplet | |

To All Of You

There are times we are left to cope
With situations that drain our hope

Leaving us full of despair
At how some people just don't care

About the evil that they do
To good people like all of you

We are left to somehow face
That in mankind there is disgrace

And those of us left alive
Must find away to survive

As you pick up the pieces of your life
Without your mother, father, husband or wife

And some of you God forbid
Without the love of your kids

We must band together with a brotherhood
Show that in this world there is some good

Because we are together in this deal
We try to help each other heal

We seek in each other good advice
And offer each other sacrifice

We hold each other in prayer and song
As we continue to re-build the wrong

Because what else in the world can we do
Except let the light of good shine through

The evil darkness and despair
Of a catastrophic lack of care

We want you to know you are not alone
Think of America as a giant cone

And all of us are funneling through
Our prayers and hopes to all of you


Posted for Nathan's 9-11 contest


Details | Narrative | |

The Ghost Dance

A shaman prays, the Spirit hears
While a Seventh Calvary regiment waits
Unarmed, a tribe endures a Union's hate
Their animosities, and their fears
As the blue coats begin to circle...
Their wrath begins to circle.

That shaman saw but a single Spirit
That was split between different beliefs
He could accept the white Spirit Chief
But the white men would not hear it
They would not blend their God
With the red heathen God.

Anger explodes behind powdered shot
Spraying death from muzzled shame
Cruelly winning their ill gotten fame
Painted heroes claim a tainted spot
History claims the Ghost Dance...
As death claims the last dance.

A Dakota creek runs darkly red
Forever silencing the Ghost Dance
A chanting shaman dies in his trance
One hundred fifty Sioux lay dead
Now, only blue coats remain...
Only the blue remain.

A creek ran red with Union shame
When a shaman called the Spirit Great
And that Spirit did not hesitate
He fell on Wounded Knee and came
To take His people home...
His people swiftly home.


                                     Timothy I. Brumley



Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

the day you flew to Heaven


           We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time 
              hearing the news before most of the World did
           He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
           He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected 

           He had loves and passions from many places 
           deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
            Not only did he love music and inspire all 
            He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul

              The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened 
             It was John Denver's plane that went down
             Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial 
             So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
              always in loving memory 
               OH babe ,  do we hate you go ~    
                            
    

         Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
                   "Leaving on a Jet Plane "
             


Details | Ekphrasis (Ecphrasis) | |

Black Sunday {Personification in Couplet form}

I was as high as the eyes could see
A giant dark cloud of pure misery

I seemed to roll as one with the wind
A giant black wall that had no end

I stripped the land and left it bare
Of the lives I destroyed, I didn’t care

Those who stayed I covered in dust
As their children died I broke their trust

From my hell many families did flee
Left to wander homeless in misery

I changed the word these words are true 
Black Sunday brought darkness on you


I didn't see any direct link but just goggle
pictures of the dust bowl and you will see
what i have written for Brian's Contest.
The Dust Bowl - Alexandre Hogue - 1937


Details | Free verse | |

Under the Tall Trees

Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, lost, remarkable.

Of no merit;
forgotten, under the tall trees.

And bury him;
No accurate history serves.

Under cross;
buried in sand,
buried in dirt.

His face will carry forth,
past this miserable state.

To birth,
to die;
forth not.

Behold;
of man, 
of earth.

Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, found, 
frozen in time.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

HOW TO STOP SWIFT AND STEALTHY TIME THAT BRINGS DEATH

How to stop swift and stealthy time that brings death?
Must we think only of victories, not defeats
and deny that all we posses will be lost as wealth?
Disease and age are our enemies...doesn't health control heartbeats?
Spread those tables and enjoy your food and wine,
dance and sing when sadness knocks, indulge in a life simply divine!


Should we live in the moment as the ancient Romans did indeed:
constantly thinking of invincibility and immortality...
shrugging off days and years of dire uncertainty;
wouldn't it be absurd to embody the essence of their creed?
In South Africa Lekker is a portent of good as the word, " Omens " is;
try to include it in your daily speech and write yourself a funny phrase!  


Some may say, " It's madness! " and laugh as a delirious Macbeth; 
others will accept it and suddenly forget that they are going to die
by contemplating this motto," How to stop swift and stealthy time that brings death? "
God's curse on the human race can be undone, if we don't believe Satan's lie!  


How to stop swift and stealthy time that brings death?
Isn't it an impossible wish for all the living who can't escape reality?
Although science offers much hope with their findings on longevity...
we are bound for our graves without a single breath! 

 
 
 


Details | Senryu | |

A Promise dies as petals burn

You do not love me                                                                                  
Love is more than just a word                                                                
Thorns have reached their depth


Details | Rhyme | |

A MEMORIAL TO MARTIN LUTHER KING JR

Words would fail me if I might assay
To articulate the courage of this man.
The numerous facets of his dossier
Are subject for song in a distant land.
Awakened in youth from serene dreams
By the melodious blast of Israel’s horn.
Tall standing received earth’s esteems,
Accepting God’s charge wherefore he was born.

His marble image cleaves the bluest sky,
And his halo is now a crown about his brow.
His peace of mind earth can no longer deny,
For he has now fulfilled his earthly vow.
It can only suppose with the midnight of the mind,
What may be reason’s welcome morning  star.
One day he may return even more divine,
With a holier task from God who reigns from afar.

There’s no thunder heard from Sinai’s height,
And we see no parting waves at Jordan’s bank.
We have followed no truer soldier in our darkest night,
And now are marching on bravely in file and rank.
Rolling on in faith toward the welcome dawn,
The good fight won he’s earned the honor of Moses.
Now trekking  the soul’s desert to the divine throne,
He follows God’s light up the street of yellow roses.


Details | Elegy | |

My Return To Normandy

High on the Normandy cliffs
Looking out over Pointe du Hoc
As cold Atlantic winds whisper out
The names of the brothers I left behind
Now only fine marble monument shadows
Dot the trenches and empty emplacements 
As the final testimony of the fallen
Still ringing frightened with those desperate voices
Proclaiming both their lives and death
That they were ever here…

In the emerald hills of Collville Sur Mur
I can still hear the phantom naval shells screaming
Underneath the crying of men
Pulverized and dying in their comrades arms
All for the belief of the land from which they hail
While the roaring waves wash the still bloody sands
In and endless and rending cycle
That silent cacophony of brother and foe
Call out to me still for comfort and aid
Asking only to be remembered…


Details | Rhyme | |

Plockton - Wester Ross

The greatest holiday gift I ever received  
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears

I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin

For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so

Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading

We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy

We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores

On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through

A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee

My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve

This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for

We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me





Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Dalzel-Job


Details | Free verse | |

SHADOWLANDS

                                “Once very near the end I said, 'If you can -- if it is allowed – 
                                 come to me when I too am on my death bed.”

                                 “Allowed!' she said. “Heaven would have a job to hold me;
                                  and as for Hell, I'd break it into bits.” 



                                  Oh God, God, why did you take such trouble to force 
                                  this creature out of its shell if it is now doomed to crawl back
                                  -- to be sucked back -- into it?

                                                                    ~ C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed ~


                                  __________________________________



The division should be acute, the before her, the with her, the after her,
Yet there is this constant rattling of doors, though they remain locked,

in theory. I think of her as gone until I turn a page and read a passage 
of pompous dialogue and she returns, My Joie de Vivre, entertaining me 

with that puckish wit, unabashed. She smiles in the dusk with crusading 
colours that bend dark horizons, changing clouds unexpectedly. What was I 

before Joy*? Content, pleasant and productive. But was I alive, aware of
Life, its blissful rhythms? Irony defined: the heart which awakened stone 

no longer beats. Finally, I understand. Lessons are sharp things which
infect both fresh and aging amputations. What do I do with this knowledge? 

It is like learning a language that is no longer spoken, a long monologue 
unbearably forlorn, painful. Faith dismisses hauntings, yet she does so 

in daily degrees, oh, the sweet ghosts that peer from those notes, my name 
underscored in margins. Why is there only one glove in the sewing box?  

Agony hunts me in the garden. Perfume almost, but not quite a match.
Some rooms have snares. I dare not open a kitchen drawer. Pain waits there.

The specter of my former self, a staunch gent, so sure of Heaven's role, 
that cold bloke follows me in the shadows, land of man’s rage and despair.

There is no pretty death, no words can comfort the ravaged left behind,
There is no poetry in our departing; I only pray there is Godspeed in mine. 



*Written Nov 4, 2012






Joy Gresham Davidman, American poet, and C.S. Lewis, English writer and Oxford scholar, were good friends and married solely for the purpose to keep Joy in England (contested). But love came, as it has a habit of doing, when least expected, after Joy was diagnosed with terminal cancer. There love was true and deep, and her death shattered Lewis. His book, A Grief Observed explores his anguish and a Christian’s questions which arise during times of suffering. The film, Shawdowlands, is based on the biography, Through the Shadowlands: The Love Story of C. S. Lewis and Joy Davidman. Lewis died 3 years after Joy. The above poem is a conjecture on my part, as no one can truly know what lies in another's heart, alive or otherwise.  


Details | Ballade | |

Imagine

Imagine lakes of dreams 
Blood contained streams
Imagine oceans that behold undiscovered beings
Imagine human life depended off of cheers and games
Man design’s umbrellas
And eventually would play a part in acid rain
Imagine not wanting to smell another rose 
Or touch another soul 
Because of despair and shame
Imagine in the mist of your demise
You have the passion to rejoice and sing
Imagine driving pass shattered glass
The interior  is soaked with blood stains
Your mind can't comprehend the fact 
that it's a dead family in the next lane
Imagine dreaming for freedom
As a result by your neck you hang
Imagine for the sake of progress 
You whip a man on his back and call him a slave.
Rage, Pain, Fortune, and fame
You don't have to imagine this 
Because that's what life brings.


Details | Quatrain | |

The Vietnam War

The pro-Hanoi Vietcong many years ago
In the 1950's Diem's government they'd overthrow
All opposition was crushed killed or jailed
These elected ones to their people they failed

This Buddhist country so religious in belief
Now politically torn apart, impending future grief
In the early 1960's with the CIA in place
Discussing with Vietnam's generals, Diem, assassinated in disgrace

With the Vietcong army, growing from strength to strength
Another communist foothold, going to any lengths
In 1965, with 3500 U.S. Marines in place
By December of that year, 200,000 in many a base

These U.S. Marines, in their defensive mode
Over the coming months, peace would soon erode
With the Tet Offensive upon us, and the "Battle of Hue"
The Americans were now involved, this bloody war now brews

One decision to end this conflict, came in 1969
Nixon sent 18 B-52s, bordering Soviet airspace line
He wanted to show he was capable, to end this bloody war
But as the months and years progressed, the body count would soar

The anti-war movement was gathering strength, also in 1969
But the "Green Beret Affair" started to undermine
A U.S. Army platoon raped and pillaged, the village of My Lai
Where civilians were massacred, and many left to die

In 1970-71, Cambodia incurred wars wrath
Where they and the country Laos, were in the U.S. bombing path
Also in 71, there was the cutting of the Ho Chi Minh trail
But arms and supplies got through, this mission to no avail

Later in the same year, the Anzac's withdrew their soldiers
The U.S. also reduced, many of theirs from Vietnam's borders
In 1973, Nixon declared the suspension of offensive action
The Paris Peace Accords took place, peace with this warring faction

Between the years 73 - 74 under Trà, the Vietcong grew in strength
There was no mass offensive, to lure the Americans to their trench
Gradually they marched to their target, to see their enemies eyes
To their city of Saigon, now over a million humans have died

The average age of the American to die in this bloody war
Was just nineteen years old, never knowing what they were fighting for
So many came home from this horror, leaving themselves behind
Because so many came home different, home with a different mind

Even to this day, many Americans look back and ask
Why their elected Congress, feed them to these tasks
The sad thing about Vietnam, it continues to this present day
Where governments make decisions, asking guns to hear their say




Details | Quatrain | |

Average Age 19

Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for

Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain

Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin

I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail

Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled

Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss

How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run

I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance





James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "



Details | Chant Royal | |

Paying For Lies With Lives

"Sing to me, Muse, of the wrath of Achilles." - Iliad, Line 1

Western dreams were born in wrath,
Overmastering all the noble aims of reason.
The bloom of youth, cut from its proper path,
Fallen wasted in full season
Torn and silent upon fields of fire,
Betrayed by elder men's desire
To force their goals on one another,
Stolen from each grieving Mother
Against the tides of pain each strives
His misery to quench, his hate to smother
As they pay for lies with lives.

Home and hearth abandoned for ambition,
The promise of tomorrow dies on foreign shores
For shadows' sake they are cast to perdition,
To drown in the shifting seas of wars.
The Enemy as confused as they,
Affrighted and divided by the fray,
Consumed by fear in the battle's heat
The dead lie dead, come victory or defeat.
The living, stung by memories' knives,
Against which they in vain entreat,
Go on to pay for lies with lives.

The world turns on as the game is played,
Each dawn finds men so much the same.
The debts accrue, are bourne and paid
Each seeking honor for his name,
And a home secure in peace.
Yet men move other men, and will not cease
To bind them to some formless claim or cause,
To bid them die to right the flaws
Perceived in others of like kind; their wives
Bide in fear and live by tyrants'  laws
As they pay for lies with lives.

Noctambulate, the pawns of powers fight,
For cause of country weakly understood;
They move from day to death's eternal night
Directed by the wills of men of wood.
When all has ended, what has been acheived?
What meaning comforts myriads bereived?
The world will turn, and others rise
To fill the void, the numb surprise
Of lives unlived, of weeping eyes,
Of silence heavy with unanswered sighs
For those who paid for lies with lives.

Must so many lines of history
Be so far writ in blood,
So tainted with tragic mystery
Trammeled by iron stained with mud,
Its pages overrun with acts untamed,
Acts of slaughter by the vast unnamed?
So many deeds set down in red
Give cause to rest uneasy in our beds.
Though the past recedes, the present shall reprise
The accusatory march of the silent dead,
Parading those who paid for lies with lives.

Who dares leave our collective guilt unclaimed?
Were not our many wars for subtle reasons framed
By minds fit for much finer uses,
By hearts that might have scorned such abuses
Leading to this madness - who denies
Those self-delusions that should leave us shamed,
That make us pay for lies with lives?


Details | Quatrain | |

Silhouettes on the Stage 1953




Lying still on the class room floor,
brown paper for a bottom sheet.
All the children were gathered round
and my outline was complete.

A cookie cutter girl was I
in bright black paten leather shoes;
with a gathered skirt, puffy blouse
of blue polka dotty hues.

Drawn silhouette, a paper doll,
not ashen as deaths cold harrow,
and I regret, my parents get
left Hiroshima's shadows.

Eight years gone the Rising Sun
was challenged in an earthy sky;
for bombs Little Boy and Fat Man fell
and two-hundred thousand people died

The Man of Steel, old Stalin
passed away in Russia this year;
the hot cold war was in full bloom
and our children hid in fear.

Beneath our desk tops we scrambled
as the shrill sirens shrieked away
the Committee of Five ruled Russia
and Khrushchev was on his way.

Dwight Ike was in the White House
as a veteran, he'd fought hard
the GI bill was now in affect
and bomb shelters filled our yards.

And little girls with ringlet curls
still made dollies on paper sheets;
while the doll shadows left by WWII
bombs blackened in Japan's streets.

*On August 6, 1945, the United States used a massive, atomic weapon against Hiroshima, Japan. This atomic bomb, the equivalent of 20,000 tons of TNT, flattened the city, killing tens of thousands of civilians. While Japan was still trying to comprehend this devastation three days later, the United States struck again, this time, on Nagasaki. Nagasaki was bombed on August 9, 1945 only three days after the bombing of Hiroshima. And we worry that other countries may develope atomic bombs???


Details | Narrative | |

Remembering The Children of Beslan

It was the first day of the new school year
The children of Beslan had no need to fear
In anticipation they eagerly left home for school
Some walked hand in hand with Mom and Dad
Others skipped along the well known path
Excitement filled the sidewalks and the streets
As fleeting thoughts collided in mid air

Some thought of new friends to be made
Others of old friends with whom to play
A little sister left at home 
Of baby brother asleep in his crib
Much too young to run and play
Some favorite lullabies which Grandmama sang 
As Grandpapa played his violin

The first day of the new school year
Mothers beamed with such pride
How their little ones had grown
Never would they ever want to let go
Others gave in to their children’s cries
‘Mamma, I do not want to go to school.
May I stay with you today?’

On wings of hate evil had already arrived 
With diabolical plans and bombs in hand
To maim and murder the children of Beslan
Who became captives in their little school house
After the dastardly deed was done
Dreams and aspirations lay splattered 'cross the floor 
Childhood innocence forever vanished! 

On the day of internment the sun in his temple hid
Earth wept pouring rain, her bitter tears
As Mothers’ voices cracked and strained 
Cried out loud, their children’s names
While others pleaded in vain for death
Fathers in a state of shock stood stoically in the cold autumn rain
Wearing faces carved in stone

The blood of children cried out to Heaven
Where at the throne of mercy 
Sits a God who is just 
Though their bodies lay broken in tiny white coffins
On angels' wings their souls did ascend  
He will judge all men and their deeds 
All, on one appointed day

A tribute to the children of Beslan, No. Ostetia, Russia 9/1-3/ 2004


Details | Free verse | |

War Mentality

They come from a different era
where patriotism is a just cause
they would fight for the true blue
never mind who was right or wrong

they stood staunch and egos proud
their chest out, backs straight and chins up
they come from an old style of thinking
I fight today as my father and grandfather did too.

fighting for an eye for an eye tooth for a tooth
I will die to serve my country even if its a lie
if you try to invade our land
we will come and conquer you

we are defenders of the truth
but the old timers forget
and the young ones have a narrow point of view
there was a time when the immigrants were Irish, Italians and jews

racism was rampant and that hasn't changed
Christians today still preach
'Jesus is savior they say repent your evil ways
pushing their rhetoric just like the roman empire did

amazingly America seems to be doing the same
history seems to repeat itself time and time again
war, religion, oil and what we perceive  as freedom
we invade again and again and call it defending democracy

yet the intelligence comes from spies and other governments
because they have shared interests in different types of policy
they all carefully choose their words
because one slip of the lip could trigger war as it has happened before

todays war on terrorism is a campaign designed  to instill pain 
and un-trust to drain our resources from us 
And our leader claimed up front this is not a religious war
yet he paraphrases from the bible we'll get those evil doers

you see bush fooled our religious leaders too.
he used their belief in Jesus he tricked 'em all just to get their vote
he claims he's a born again Christian and this Christians embraced him holly
but then one day bush spoke to Jesus and asked what to do with Iraq

Jesus responded Invade that country
Now dont get me wrong Jesus was not about war 
he taught of peace, love and compassion
however his message has been twisted and turned over time 

and history shows the hands of Christian religious leaders are always bloody
because they twist the truth to control dictatorship is always the goal
Bush had been plaining war before a judge handed him the seat
on his first day he signed a bill into law prevent any criminal charges against him



Details | Cinquain | |

INTOLERANCE

Each shoe,
a life He knew,
buds of His olive tree-
next time perhaps,it could be you..
or me !



Inspired by Abe's photos


Details | Verse | |

Altered State

Towers collapsed to foundations,
  The planes exploded in air,
To gratify firebrand preachers
  Destruction and death everywhere.

Bus became coffin on byway,
  Train torn up beneath ground,
Fanatics end innocent life,
  Spin godless chaos around.

Child kneels broken at graveside,
  Tears drip down to the earth,
A consciousness of pure evil
  Deems human life of no worth.

Enemies fester within,
  Harbour a doctrine and creed,
Under the guise of religion,
  And nurtures a virulent seed.

Enemies hidden within,
  Feral smiles, baring of teeth,
Approve of a racist agenda.
  Murder by twisted belief.

Why should we drown beneath?
  Fundamental waves of hate,
Why should we have to live
  In this an altered state?

They can go to other places
  Where their twisted creed is rife,
Where martyrdom and slaughter
  Construe their way of life.

The simple, sorry factor  
  The ironic doctrinaire:
The places of their genesis
  Won’t stand them living there.

Thus decent, honest people
  Are left unto their fate,
A homeland under terror
  Remains an altered state.


Details | Quatrain | |

History Lesson

Crimson mist in the Dallas sky,
a frantic wife's mad dash.
The world watched us as we cried
for hope gone in a flash.

Brilliant poet with timeless verse
and enduring message of peace.
A murderous fan fulfilled his curse.
Does lunacy ever cease?

Perfect day in the city
until the towers fell.
Religious zealots who had no pity.
Their resting place is hell.

So look at history if you can
and learn from such hindsight.
As long as evil has a plan
we must not quit the fight.


Details | Pantoum | |

Red Wedged-Heel Shoe

On  top of the pile___shoes upon shoes
One lone wedged-heel red shoe that gives clue
That she knew what her fate would be soon
Aware her soul__spirit would take flight

One lone wedged-heel red shoe that gives clue
The owner was last one to die the death
Aware her soul__spirit would take flight
Memories filled her every thought

The owner was last one to die the death
Terror, horror with every breath
Memories filled her every thought
Of family, friends, life, love__children

Terror, horror, with every breath
Because she knew what fate would be soon
Same as family, friends, love__children
On top of the pile__shoes upon shoes


Details | Rhyme | |

Pulp

Pretty soon, night will fall upon the city,
And lives of crime animate spasmodically
As Gene Pitney croons “A Town Without Pity”
And the clubs and the gin joints open methodically.

Hepcat jazzmen smoke reefers, shoot junk,
The pimps clean their nails with switchblades laconically,
Fedoras pulled low as they mind-jive to funk,
And the neon lights crackle and buzz electronically,

Breast enhanced blondes catch the eyes of their johns,
Pouting and winking, the sale of depravity,
For a price any vice can be practiced upon
The surface of flesh, any crevice or cavity.

Cops pound the beat twirling nightsticks around,
Turning blind eyes for a bribe taken willingly,
Failure to pay brings the world crashing down,
“It just ain’t your day,” the cops whisper chillingly.

Wiseguys hold court in an old pizzeria,
Smoking and drinking and eating the scenery
Their empire of family governed through fear,
The rule of the gun and Sicilian ancestry.

Corporate needles pierce veins of the damned,
Chalk drawings map lines around death’s ideology
Cigarettes sparked and the siren howls slammed
Through the meanest of streets of pulp fiction mythology.    

In the world of the scribe, this pulp writer hack
May exaggerate slightly for sake of the narrative,
Yet film noir seems grey when reality’s black,
At the end of the day everything is comparative.


Details | Free verse | |

The Beauty Of Austria Shattered

I remember the dream of Austria
As the war for me was finally closing 
High in my turret upon the Sherman
I entered this mountain paradise at last
Until I reached the earthly gates of hell

Within those eyes I found despair
That spark of life long dead
Their hearts filled of solitudes poison
Muted voices no longer calling out
Thousands of souls starving for hope
Existing amongst corpses who had lost it
Now just shadows of the once proud
Crushed by tyranny simply because they “were”

Empty men drifting about lost in a miring haze
Praying for the peace only death grants
So very few seemed to hold onto humanity
They had nothing to fear because all was lost
As I stood at the hells gates called Mauthausen

In that moment I found the truest of evils
Under the threshold of Hades a toxoid of hatred
Not truly comprehending what my eyes spoke
Numbed in fears I never knew subsisted within me
Standing frozen I wanted nothing more than to run
As the shell of that crying man fell in my arms
I am haunted by his words…”godheid bedanken”
My faith transfused giving him a moments hope

Within those high peaks of the songs of paradise
I lost my soul at the gates of a concentration camp
Every night since I hear his voice thanking God
He called us the wrath and thunder of reckoning
But…I was just a boy with rifle searching for a respite


Details | Rhyme | |

Fallen Nation

I stand here all alone
For our justice’s been dethroned
Waiting for my trial
Which is more in truth my exile
I know there's no justice here
For it is that truth I fear
The judges here corrupt
No way to resurrect
What's now a fallen nation
That is now planning my cremation
Or rather a public execution
For this is their solution
To the problems caused by me
And my views of liberty


Details | Rhyme | |

Lakota

I'm very small
I am called Standing Tall
My story to be read as i live through it all.

Our Dakota lands are forest and vast
Where our ancestors have hunted
From long in the past.

Our tribes are, a confederation of seven
With our language of Lakota, Sioux heaven
We stand proud as we remember our past
And look to our gods, to make it all last.

A silhouette on the prairie hill i see
This shape in the distance is new to me
As we sleep in the night, we hear guns and blows
We arise from our camp, to look for the noise
We creep on the prairie to their surprise
Under the moon, where the land would flow
No longer the Buffalo.

We mount our ponies to challenge these men
What gives them this right to kill and maim
Bodies of beasts, furs cut away
Missing heads, a ghastly slay.

On reaching their camp our bows stretched
Arrows screech, hit the wretched
Watch them fall to the prarie floor
Just like the Buffalo did hours before.

Years have passed as we are moved from our lands
These poisonous men, and their poisonous glands
Bringing illness fever and strife
Ending many a Lakota life.

We reach a point in History
Which made the white man sit up and see
Their Golden Child General George Custer
And the Little Big Horn, my what a disaster.

Arapaho, Cheyenne and us Lakota too
Sliced the Blue Jackets, their Scouts too
The US Cavalry would have their glee
At the Battle Of Wounded Knee
Where Siiting Bull would finally rest
Standing Tall's story last's the test
If we Indians had the same resources
Like the silhouette on the hill
These praries we always had. would be ours still.


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/native-americans.php


Details | Rhyme | |

holokauston Page 1 of 2

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


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php


Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part 5 Final)

This new born day I celebrate your souls release from guilt n’ captivity since that day you 
felt a carnal touch of sin within as your hands played poetically upon the curves of your dead 
lover’s silken skin…
I know now  you made your way to the top of the rocks to plant a tree to guard this sacred 
place where I fell from thee n’ you repeated the poetic chant of love’s abandoning to follow 
me into our karmic destiny…

On that fateful day your soul bled away at the top of this crest by a solitary juvenile tree, 
your body of words fell to the rocks at the base of this cliff, embroidered into the blood of 
me…
The one who would hold a feather to her face on this crest by the sea n’ remember finally 
the days gone by of you n’ me, our deaths from love’s abandoning when you my love were 
lost to this world n’ me for ten centuries…

I now await destiny as we will love forever more with immortal hearts…


Details | Rhyme | |

Did We Know?

Near the end of summer on a quiet morning
Terrorists attacked without warning
We watched in horror as the twin towers fell
What once was Mecca, now was Hell

How could it happen? In anger we cried
We watched as they listed the people who died
We clung to our loved ones as the fire raged on
The peace and security we once had was gone

When Japan attacked, we were lied to back then
Could it be we were lied to again?
The first time a foreign enemy attacked on our soil
Could it be we're in Iraq just for the oil?

The enemy attacked from out of the sky
The United States taught them how to fly
Was the response from our president only a show?
Did we allow it to happen? Did we already know?

They love us in Iraq. We're headed in the right direction
I guess they're shooting at us to show their affection
We are told insignificant is the loss of life
Can you tell that to a mother, a child, a wife?

A war on terror is an honorable war, a matter of global defense
A war for oil is an unjust war, it just doesn't make any sense
To justify the war, did we let people die? Did we turn and look away?
Did we already know and do nothing again as we approach judgement day?


Details | Rhyme | |

The Mayan Declared

The year is 2025 I have come back to my past To witness the Mayans Who said Earth would not last 2012 Was the year they declared That the planet we knew Could never be spared An Asteroid shower We could never comprehend Sends this heaven to hell In catastrophic spend The first to hit Was the daddy of them all Our axis twisted The human race in fall Just of Madagascar In the Indian Ocean It's where it all started That set our demise in motion Tsunami waves Like giant tower blocks Swamped Indonesia As Polynesia rocked The force of impact Reverberated west On the Canary Islands A dormant volcano so reft It's massive mountain side Into the Atlantic slipped To the eastern seaboard Of the United States it shipped A second Tsunami Half the world long Would submerge the east Taking the weak and the strong The second to hit Hit a place struck before Tunguska in Russia Receives another sore Daylight turns to night As earth meets our skies Fallout from the reactors In shattered demise Radiated clouds Eventually filter down Leaving bleeding lacerations As we humans death drown Smaller asteroids Some just a few hundred feet Around the world they were marvelled Until they meet their greet The place where I stand now Was Yosemite National Park Now dark ridges of black So bare and stark It's been many many years Since the sun shone through the screen When I close my eyes I remember When the earth was lush and green How many of us survived Will we ever know Was this in our destiny I think all around me, now shows


Details | Couplet | |

The Spirital Womb

The tragedy of a Miracle started today
Our Lord’s brutalized body passed away 

Of all the tragedies in the history of man
This is one I try to grasp, but never can

For some reason I find it impossible to see
We crucified the greatest man in our history

Through all of the gain and all of the loss
It was a predestined coin man had to toss

I wonder how Pilot must have felt that day
He washed cowards hands in a cowardly way

Beaten and tortured, his skin ripped to shreds
As a thorny crown dug holes into Jesus’ head

While nailed to the cross he had one final goal
Through the mercy of love he saved another soul

He saved that soul and then our Lord Jesus died
Can you imagine the countless tears that were cried?

As we all know Jesus' body was placed into a tomb
To my minds eye it was no less than a spiritual womb 

And from inside that womb salvation was born
For the tomb was found empty come Sunday morn

This is not how the story ends it is only how it starts
The Lord now lives up inside each one of our hearts

Even those lost in Prison, the ones like I used to be
Can turn to the Lord and then they will be set free

Freedom is a thing that I think we all strive to find
It is etched in our heart and engraved in our mind

I was locked up in a cell nestled tightly away
Facing several years that I would have to pay

Up inside of that cell I made my own decree
A true miracle was taking place inside of me

I was a very evil man and I was so proud to show it
In the wink of an eye I was transformed into a Poet

I learned there is only one way to truly be free
Ask of the Lord, “ Jesus please come unto me”

And just as the Lord Jesus Christ rose up out of his tomb
We can all live with-in the comfort of his spiritual womb





Details | Rhyme | |

holokauston Page 2 of 2

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 


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php


Details | Verse | |

Injustice

He prepares for a carefree day,
for jovial conversations,
for cheerful smiles and lively faces.
He’s a young boy. Just like me.
My mind swells with ceaseless terror.
 I plead in my prayers
that our lives shall prolong further than this day.
I prepare for the grand attack.

He ambles through the village.
Laughter escapes the vivid frames 
of him and his companions.
Not an ache in his limbs.
Not a burden in his heart.
I move anxiously ahead.
My feet without ease omit swarms of bodies.
Some still emit shallow breaths.
Inadequate sounds escape their mouths
and their eyes writhe.

For him, time passes swiftly 
and a late train is the crisis of the day.
In that day, not a thought does he spare
for his fellow human beings.
For our sacrifice he doesn’t care.

As for me, time stays almost still.
I’m imprisoned in a time warp of pain.
My best friend clings off the un-cut wire
and blazing bullets glide through
the torn flesh of his chest.

He lies in his bed.
Wrapped around him a soft blanket,
under his head a warm pillow.
He’s a young boy. Just like me.

But only the moist earth serves me as a cushion, 
and only the bodies of my lifeless friends
serve me as heat.
I lie in a shell-hole; I lie in my grave. 



Details | Rhyme | |

An Antichrist in Guyana

In San Francisco, he started his crusade to teach the word of God and all good He made. His followers, even though penurious, gave him all they had; they were oblivious. He taught them how to atone for sins and pray. To a much better life, Jones would show the way. To South America, they followed Jim down. In the thick hot jungle, they built their Jonestown. Soon, there was no love, peace, and no sanctity. Instead, there was pain, deceit, and cruelty. A California congressman arrived there to alleviate the relatives’ despair. However, his findings would not be revealed. He and his party met their deaths on the field. Jones tested his children’s loyalty later. By drinking poison, they met their Creator Ubiquitous death with not a single sound; over nine hundred lifeless bodies were found! He was once a shepherd purveying God’s grace, leading most of his flock to death and disgrace.


Details | Verse | |

And You Will Know Me By The Trail Of Dead

And you will know me by the trail of dead,
the whistle of wind in cutthroat pipes,
the jolly japes and spring heeled capers
in the sepia pulp of the Sunday papers
and in all the Jack Tar bilge in your head,
for you will know me by the trail of dead.

And you will know me by the trail of dead
the gory tales of bright crimson stripes.
the intestinal spool of viscera and gutting,
the slashing swipe of steel blades cutting,
and the opening wounds awash with red,
for you will know me by the trail of dead.

And you will know me by the trail of dead,
the love-a-duck and strike-me-blind,
the dear boss letters and cunning stunts,
the hunter or hunted in Whitechapel hunts,
and the feverish sweats in every bed,
for you will know me by the trail of dead.

And you will know me by the trail of dead,
the buckle-my-shoe and daily grind,
the Juwes and gin and pea soup nights,
the whore flesh slaughter and ghastly sights,
and the legends of all I did and said,
for you will know me by the trail of dead.


Details | I do not know? | |

Spring Summer And Fall

From bright colors even the brightest blond turns grey.
Grown men now stand.
Were once young children did play.

 The once new cover.
Is now tattered and torn.
time has all but erased the oaths  once proud men had sworn.

The field now overgrown  still haunts memories of the blue and grey.
Old worn headstones markers of were they'll forever lay.
No bell to ring no voice shall call.
The ghosts of the past erased by spring summer and fall.

The old porch stands hidden by a overgrowth of vines.
Now blank are the boards that once were painted signs.
The blood followed swiftly from the wound of the past.
To forge a path to a time that could never last.

Gone is the tree that once stood so very tall.
Forgotten by time 
So is the legend of spring summer and fall.


Details | Rhyme | |

Wars of Difference and Different Wars

Dream on man
War is constant
It has gone beyond
Catholic or Protestant

Religious wars
From our short lived past
Will never dilute
As long as we last

In this modern world
We fight for different reasons
What ever the excuse
And in any season

We fight over land
Imaginary WMD
Even over soccer
How the hell can that be

We now fight over oil
In a camouflaged war
Taking innocents with us
In public deplore

Guerrilla, assault
Bombing with precision 
We vote them in
As they twist their decisions

Dream on man
War has changed
Greed has taken over
From the pasts deranged




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-3.php


Details | I do not know? | |

A Gunfighters Fate

Some folks feel like Jesse James got a raw deal,
just because he had an affinity and liked to rob and kill.
His ended up a tragic story I reluctantly have to relate;
He trusted one of his gang and suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

Jesse was shot in the back by one of his friends Robert Ford,
giving credence to the saying about living and dying by the sword.
Mr. Ford duly received a fatal shotgun blast up in Colorado State
And likewise he also suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

 Billy The Kid was a killer who lived a life of crime,
he was shot by Pat Garrett who was his friend at one time 
Then Pat himself was gunned down at a later date.
So eventually he too suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

 Outlaws who lived by the gun, reaped just what they sowed.
It was their choice to live and die by the gunfighter’s code.
Most of them had no desire to make any effort to go straight
So sooner or later they all suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

 Even to survive was a curse, because as the killers grew older.
They spent a lot of time nervously looking back over their shoulder.
Some would even move away to escape the life they learned to hate,
But they were usually recognized and suffered a gunfighter’s fate.

So when a person chose to ride down the lawless outlaw trail
They usually ended hanging from a rope or spending their life in jail.
 A lot of them made bad choices and ended up being buzzard bait,
because it was in their destiny to suffer a gunfighter’s fate.
 
 
 
 
 
 


Details | Rhyme | |

The King Of Pop

from his abc's
to that freaky billy jean

came a pop star 
for all to love and see

from the apollo's stage
wondered if you were ready for screaming rage

for you never had a childhood of bliss
only done what was on joseph's list

a studded white glove 
and white socks just because

a star on the hollywood walk of fame
for you sang and danced showing no shame

scandals of twisted truth
did not detour you from your missing youth

neverland was your own safari escape
who would figure your best friend would be a chimp of faith

michael may god cradle you in his arms
and basked in your king of pops worldly charm

will forever miss that porcelain smile
and always think of you on my radio dial

for now your at your heavens trial
may god forgive this lost and lonely child




In Loving Memory Of
Michael Joseph Jackson
Aug 29th 1958 - June 25th 2009

           RIP


Details | Free verse | |

The Evoultion of Learning (Part Two)

As long as various people run various nations
There will forever be war
What the world needs is one leader
A common man who believes in the working class
As well as the Lord
Instead of one Nation under God
Lets make it one World under God
And just let each individual decide what he or she wishes to call that God
So I here by nominate our dear friend Vince Suzadail Jr.
The first candidate of the new world order 
He seems to have the best Political views I’ve heard
And I think he alone could do a much better job
Than all the leaders of all the nations are doing
At least I’m certain he couldn’t do any worse
And that way all the super intelligent people devising ways 
Of destroying our world
Could find something more constructive to spend their time on
Like raising a crop or milking a cow
Saving a child or helping elderly with their needs 
There are plenty of folk who need a hand
Lets all start offering them ours instead of cutting theirs off
I’m just a simple man
My actual world is very small
My family, friends and neighbors
I love you all and hope you know I’ll do anything for you I can
There is no malevolence left in me
I know how to make and use a shank, zip gun or small explosive
But I’ve learned not to
For I’ve learned to think with my heart and soul
They do a much better job than my mind
I just wish the great minds of the world
Were smart enough 
To figure out what I have
And learn to love with all of their hearts


Details | Ode | |

In Memoriam (Che Guevara)

                            I
I woke up this morning with tears in my eyes,
your face was in the morning paper;
they shot you dead like a dog,
hunted you out all day and night.

                            II
They said you'd always been a bad seed
and youths were dying because of you;
they said you're a criminal on the run
with a dirty face and shaggy head.

                    (Refrain)
But I know you better than they do,
you preached love to all the people;
you fought for them, young and old,
you lit up their nights with your heart.

                            III
And now as I see you lying dead,
it seems my dreams have vanished as well;
they can call you names, any names they want,
but I know there's only one like you, 
there's only one like you, 
there's only one Che Guevara.
              (Repeat Refrain)
                
You lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart.



Details | Verse | |

Last Grave On The Left

At peace, of life bereft
in the last grave on the left
where wilting weed and musty bloom
cloud the legend on the tomb.
Words in chiselled grey
bear false witness every day;
acid rain a solemn screen
when every night was Halloween.
Thunderous drums roll near,
lightning jagged, forked and clear;
marching men and daily bread
echo sacrosanct and dead.
In plywood boxes my friends sleep
out of mind and buried deep;
pray for me throughout the fall,
the one who never sleeps at all…


Details | Verse | |

Neon (9/11)

When dulled down shock painfully became
a pickaxe ache behind shimmering eyes,
the bludgeoning screen hammered memory cells
repeatedly, over and over.
Tears exploded, soft rain dampened flame,
the grumbling dust cloud debris disguised
broken hearts bursting in agonised swells
searching for life confirmation.

Crashed vultures, evil in senseless flight,
beating humanity for hours like a drum,
cramping the breath with holocaust claws,
gleefully gloating, gloating.
Yet humanity does not die in the night,
by the warped wicked ways of fanatical scum,
humanity fades not, nor crawls on all fours
the prey of abomination.

Could Hitler pulverise humanity dead,
could Stalin annihilate it's very soul,
could Hussein defile it's essence to dust,
could they, hell.
It arises from rubble and ashes instead,
steel resurrection, reassembled whole,
in the love and pride of people it must
elicit restoration.

Beneath the veil of despair-crippled night
a broken city seethed neon 'till morning,
mortal wounds blazed and shone in rebirth,
defiantly living, living.
And hope prevailed in each bulb burning bright,
in each filament, tube, each spark a new dawning
of all that Heaven allows on Earth,
a prayer-shot inspiration.

The carnage of angels bedazzled with pain,
yet the courage and conscience of saints empowered
a neon-lit love of brother for brother,
a blinding, blinding sight.
From sorrow and sacrilege raining again
humanity's wonder, upon them was showered
the love of the brave and the just for each other
that they become the light.


Details | Free verse | |

Silently Still

Hidden spirits motherland,
    destructions chosen horror.
Decayed barren grounds,
   ravaged territories dilapidation.
Debris leftover magnetic fields,
   crawls nuclear poisons contamination.


Ruins

           graphics

                          stand

           strongly

obscure.


Details | I do not know? | |

Viet-Nam Senceless War

There was a war sometime ago where mem were ordered young and old,
  to fight the battle keep us safe but for them no escape.
The war went on and the battle raged soldiers dieing everyday,
 so many men and boys too side by side fought for me and you.
Viet-Nam what can I say,War of War still killing today.
Agent Orange,Flash Backs too,
 many deceases worst than any flu.
One by one they did go for Uncle Sam made it so,
 fighting a war they knew not why just to stand shoot and die.
Marching,fighting days on end never knowing if it would end,
 or if they would return to the country where they were born.
For the ones who didn't die they were'nt even reconized,
 no not one would they meet or even give them an honorary seat.
As for me I have to say they should not have been treated that way.
A Hero's welcome they deserved and crowds of people on every curb,
  but instead they fought,died and we didn't as much as say Good-Bye!
                                                                     Signed;
                                                                       A Guilty One


Details | I do not know? | |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)



Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:



Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.


He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.


After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.


In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.


Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.


He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.


Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.


On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.


Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.


His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.


In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.


On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:


‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’



Mahlangu died for a cause!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)


Details | Sestina | |

ALL FALL DOWN

				Ring around the rosie,
				A pocket full of posie,
				Ashes, ashes
				They all fall down.

___________________________________________


Petronilla, I be hight, after a saint, long dead;  
Pet, Mother clucks as Father growls, willful child,
for I fail to stifle questiuns at the wizened age              
of seven. Sooth, I miss Dorsetshire and London   
is verray vile. These wretched streets are full of sickness 
and corpses pile like fish on a dock, far from graves. 

My mind hosts the lost and shall e’er be graven
with their bynames, lite ghosts left behind, all dead.
These ears hold confessions wrung from the sickened,  
the curses of goodwives, the wails of stung children-
Ay, there be gruesome hymns sung by all Londoners,
strange lullabies, for e’en  newborns shall not age.

A twitching moon brings dreams o’ the sea, days aged
by tidepools as plovers ran from waves, so gravely. 
A hundred castles I built of sand, ech a London
tower; fey, too, were those woods filled with deadnettle
flowers.  Play and prattle, everich that be childisch
is done for rattles decayed in the fists of the sickly.

I was to be a man’r maid, but that household fell sick,
so we scrounge for crumbs ‘n ole curds, un-aged.
In sleep, Mother quakes as though taken to childbed,
while Father weeps of sons and sin, his thin face, grave,
It is a though the devil his-self reaps a bounty of dead
as pestilence creeps un’er the pocked doors of  London.
 
Ech flaxen brother saved from the muck of London,
tots all, bedridden, while I was unwemmed by sickness.
Aye, they were yet alive when we fled in the dead
o’ night;  six, four, three and one were their tender ages,
Wee mites passing, no kin to tuck ‘em into their graves,
hell stilled their ruckus, stole away ech marked child.

Comes, the massacre, comes, again, Childermas,
this plague is naught but the pied piper of London,
Mother and Father unbar the door, eyes like graves
as they forsake me, nay farewells said as minutes age.
See, though bled, I now wear rings o' red, I art sick,
rath, so rath, I shall join the pale line of the dead.

I shall bear no gravestone, certes, angels shall sicken,
as blessèd children fall all o’er black London,
forbeden to axe what ages the heart, leven it deadened...






* Certain words are (mis)spelled in middle English
**Please read my comments below




Middle English Translation

hight- called/named
Sooth- truly
Verray – true
Byname - nickname
Lite – Little
Ech – Each
Everich – every
Unwemmed –  undefiled 
Childbed- labour
Childermas- Dec 28th, a day to commerate the infants killed by King Herod
Certes - Certainly
Axe – ask
rath - soon


Details | Free verse | |

Agree to Disagree

                                               
                                               Mankind's greatest
                                                 accomplishment...
                                                       
                                                      

                                                      is death.


Details | Elegy | |

Light at the End

When it hits my chest
It would not lay me to rest
It cannot bring about my end
So long I refuse to bend
Death on my chest
Is but a test
On my will to live up
To see if I would give up
The Giver would allow the pain
After seeing my faith on life
He would restore me again.
Death test is but in the while
Of a second
After which we can go on.


Details | Sonnet | |

THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN

      THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN     
        February 13, 1945
Pathfinders lit the night to show the way
for bombardiers too hungry for the word;
as Dresden's dark was made as light as day,
all hearts were stopped before the blasts were heard;

and as the din was heard by all their ears
the sound it made was not reality
but far removed from all the hopes and fears
and what they thought would never come to be.

They loved the Fuhrer--sin enough for all
to die the fiery death of sweet revenge
brought on by those who had enough of gall
to drop their loads in wartimes heated binge!

       And when the fire consumed all that it could
        the winter of their lives was understood.


Details | Epitaph | |

John F Kennedy

John F. Kennedy 1917-1963 The great 35th president of US It wasn't really a success He tried to stop the missile bases There were lot of angry faces When there was about to be a war Peace was what he asked for Texas was the place he was shot Later, the criminal was caught He didn't survive the pain His people cried like the rain


Details | Blank verse | |

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                






Details | Acrostic | |

Love came down at Christmas

L Long ago travelled Kings
O Opened their minds to prophecies
V Visiting from afar they brought gifts of Gold, Fracincense and Myrrh
E Eastern Star guiding them lighting the way

C Company of Heavenly Host
A Allelujah! Angels appeared to Shepherds, telling Savior born
M Manger for bed wrapped in cloths in Town of David
E Evangelically proclaimed Christ the Lord

D December 25th designated day
O On which we recollect
W Why/way Christ entered our world
N Nativity only part of His story

A A new testament
T Tells of new covenant between God and His people

C Christ's coming to Earth
H Hailed as new born King, Holy
R Risen Lord, righteous redeemer, 
I Intercedes for us as
S Spiritual Saviour to save sinners souls
T Time for Truth, Trust, Trinity
M Man's belief in God of Love,  
A As Father Son and Holy Spirit
S Shall be saved


Details | Rhyme | |

Kingdom Lost

In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march  
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die, 
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone 
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is 
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown, 
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
was mistaken,
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…
 
 
Copyright © 2013
 


Details | Shape | |

Remembrance

                                                          I
                                                   REMEMBER, JUST
                                              AS I’VE BEEN ASKED, I STOP
                                           AND TAKE A MINUTE, THINKING
                                          OF A WAR WHICH I WILL NEVER BE A
                                          PART OF, I WILL NEVER SEE FIRST HAND.
                                    A FEW FALLEN HEROES, WHO GAVE UP THEIR
                              LIVES FOR A GENERATION THEY WOULD NEVER SEE,
                           JUST SO THAT WE ALL                  WOULD NEVER HAVE 
                         TO GO THROUGH THE                        TERROR OF A LIFE, A
                         HELL, WITHOUT ANY                          CONCEPT OF PEACE, 
                          AND SO WE TAKE OUR                      QUIET MOMENT TO
                           STOP, AND CONSIDER                 THE SACRIFICE, TO
                             THINK UPON A FOREIGN FIELD, SOAKED IN 
                               THE BLOOD OF MEN, OF BOYS. WE CANNOT 
                                  AFFORD TO LET THEM STRAY FROM OUR
                                    MEMORY OR ELSE WE RISK REPEATING
                                        THE MISTAKES OF THE PAST. AND 
                                              SO I THANK ALL SOLDIERS
                                                    PAST AND PRESENT. 


Details | Free verse | |

Losing pieces

Oh, how I miss the dead…

... the softness in their voices
That I cannot recreate,
the warmth of their silence
Where now only cold remains;

And I know, oh how I know
That they are long gone
And I have been long removed
From those fuller times
But still, when I feel around my heart
I find that it is missing things
Parts long lost and dearly missed,
And I sit here feeling fatally incomplete
And I know-  that I can never be whole again.

But I still miss the dead,
And I miss the times
When I never knew
That I would live on
Missing the days when I was whole…

-So I still miss the dead
And the times when I was not hollowed by loss
Living every day with a lighter heart
So far from the times
 	when I would never be whole again.

And now, so far removed
from fuller times,
These few missing holes
they let in a chill wind
And somehow, these missing holes
they leave my heart heavy
And I know that it will grow heavier yet,
But I dread
That when I am lost
I die not just incomplete
But empty-
	Empty of all I could yet lose.


Details | Free verse | |

If Old Men Fought

An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war

A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying

Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
forever more,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
families mourn

A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
minimal risk,
long life, his number one ambition

As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed

The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late

Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right

Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right

Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight


Details | Verse | |

Home of the Slaves

Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change

People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.

People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names

The list could go on  
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou, 
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew

George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise

Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, 
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle, 
But obviously greatness can be done.

We can rise above this stigma 
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void 
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned 
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine


Details | Free verse | |

Like a thief in the night -Thinking of September 11th

Another morning I got up and my thoughts returned here. Just wanted to put something of
the memory that lingers still today from scenes we saw of September 11th.  Scenes we would
like to but will never and should never forget.  I do not wish to cause further despair to
anyone but if anything bring some hope to those who are suffering safe in the knowledge
that they have the world behind them.  What has happened cannot be undone but with
strength and assistance from those who had the core torn from them as the horrors unfolded
and they watched on in disbelief we can be there for one another.  We can make sure the
memory of this tragic affair lives on, and in doing so help keep our own souls alive and
kicking... in hope all was not in vain, but that we shall learn from it and let the
promise of peace win through.  My heart and thoughts go out to all.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It doesn't matter today
if we build a building of immense height
like North and South towers of World Trade Centre
even if to use as defence system
just as we would have built a castle on a hill
in times gone by - times have changed
New buildings and memorials will now stand
in recognition of who/what was on said land
Their memories will always continue
as will the vision on t.v. all did view
Where minds stood still in disbelief
while strike after strike we all felt grief
Where tears were shed by billions of eyes
War was declared with no defence in skies

It doesn't matter today
we most probably wouldn't even see
as our enemies approached
Like a thief in the night they came
stealing from us that most precious
those whom we loved or cared about

What matters today
is that for all eternity history has been made
Times we cannot change
Broken genealogical lines gone forever
Marks made on the landscape - irreplaceable
Never can anything stand for what was again
Humanity and psychological effect remains
We may not all have lost those known to us
but we stand together shoulder to shoulder
Encircling those that remain
Knowing each one of us had our soul torn
Our eyes darkened by Hells darkest Angels
When none could believe that before their eyes
Planes came crashing through the skies

Out of ashes a phoenix, a nation arises
and with it the world reawakens
We will not sleep but remember
A tragic time when so high a cost was paid
with unknowing souls now recognised
What right to take such brave innocent lives


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Freedom Uprise

We will not ride alone on this momentous journey. 
We will ride gathering our numbers, from the great mountains. 
We will travel to the valley of rivers, towards the great ocean.
For we have a great army.

Those who enslaved us with their power, stand on the top of the hill.
They stare down over the army below.
An army of vengeance we have gathered.
We will ride to the battle field at the great buildings.

Our intent is to wage war.
Fear will not take us.
You are weak supremacy, you will die by the sword. 
You will die by the hand of my fellow warriors.

This is war.
Blood will be spilt. 
Men will draw their last breaths as they fall back onto mother earth.
Mother Earth will soak up the spilled blood of our brothers and sisters.


We will be fierce and haste not.
We the suppressed will not retreat.
We the people will rise, with swords and fists. 
We are ready to die for what is equitably ours.

This is not an illusion. 
The fight against the money mongers, the powers that be.
Those that hold the power, will feel our angry wrath.
None will go unscathed.

We will watch the blood spill in and about the great buildings. 
Down the concrete stairs it will flow, rich, deep cherry red. 
Into the green of the grass, it flows.
Fear will choke your breath.

Reflections of your past, rushing before you. 
Thoughts of the dead, invade your mind.
Hollow is the cry of war, as we charge ahead to fight the battle.
To take the final stand, to give it our all.

Justice will reign by the sword and the all mighty hand.
Judgement day has arrived with this great army gathered beside us.
We will ride, steadfast into the fray.
Make no mistake this day will come upon the powers that be.


Details | Free verse | |

The Old Salt

The Old Salt was a special man who came along in a time
when he was needed most.

A time that is now gone forever.
When men believed and sacrificed, when hero’s walked the earth in mass.

When patriotism was not just a word
but,
by what men lived and judged the worth of each, 
a man who lived a life most of us cannot comprehend. 

An era now gone as this warriors tour of duty ends at this station, 
and begins anew in the heavenly fleet. 

Sail on Sailor into your unaccompanied tour,
we salute you.

What greater honor, that when a man moves forward, 
he leaves behind in each of us the best of what he was. 

A defender, protector, supporter, victor, a warrior, 
the last of the breed from an era when ships were made of wood
and men were made of steel.

The Old Salt has reported for duty that takes him away from us for now. 

Those of us who remain behind,
remember, and will continue to remember, 
because he now resides forever in our hearts.

As I look up at night, I envision The Old Salt,
a beret draped just above the eye, 
as he draws upon his pipe, 
quietly he waits.
The guardian of heaven’s gate.



Details | Rhyme | |

Why all this Destructions

Why all this Destructions? – Zamreen Zarook

God created this whole universe for the mankind,
He gave everything lavishly, thinking that we might be kind,
Even though people are able, they seems to be blind,
Whereas people failed to mind.

The sky which was created for the man started to scream and cry,
Since good morals and ethics were decry,
The fire started to do the mimicry,
As the water lands cannot bear, it came to man with a battle cry.

Land couldn't hold and it started to gorge,
Fresh air merged with chemicals and started to urge,
Whatever created for the man have started to over charged,
Stop evil and let the merits be enlarged.


Details | Elegy | |

Grandfather

My Grandfather High-backed chair facing the corner, Window over books so cherished Loved. Like the greatest of scholars, but still humble He was a trove of stories Air of silence on a place once full Of stories from a time past, A time of honor and courage and duty Of country and spirit; fighting an enemy Made from indescribable evil. Tales of valor, sand, and bullets Lions and machine guns, young men in battle Fighting for their lives. Knowing the enemy was like a jackal Cruel and twisted, an army of evil He witnessed it all First hand, in the heat of the day And cold of night. Tales passed on, spoken In a way that conveyed such knowledge That one was to sit in amazement, and hear it Firsthand from the chair facing the corner. Like a throne of deep thought. The day he left this world, I wept. Seeing him not but a day before, It was harder than I could have imagined. The pain is real, but so were the memories And so the legacy of the veteran lives on. The chair sat vacant, but I felt him there. The books on the shelf, the other treasures Left behind held him here on earth While the memories anchored him in our hearts. The man in the chair shall never be forgotten And the stories shall pass far into the generations.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Pencil Sharpener

I, the sleeper and dreamer
Wish for your end
Is it wrong, blasphemer?
Should I break, should you bend?

I sharpen your demise on a pencil sharpener
Peeling you away….reaching your core of lead
Should I break or should you bend?
Or can’t I just wish for my end?

There’s knives protruding from your eyes
The eyes I know are dead
The blasphemer you are will reveal where your body lies
Beneath your core of lead

I found you among the disposables
Wishing for my end
I blasphemed you and you just gave back
My pencils burning with lead

I screamed as you pierced through me
I felt it in my soul!
But I’m to blame for this masterpiece
I sharpened you with gold!

The shavings fall upon the ground
And still this dream moves on
Pierced, I fall without a sound
Until the break of dawn

I, the sleeper and dreamer 
Am still pierced to this day
So I hand the pencil sharpener to you
And pray you’ll be with me 


Details | Rhyme | |

THE PERFECT MURDER

In his private parlor the king of Moab rests,
Having just retired from his more spacious quarters,
Where King Eglon had received the Israelite guests,
Bearing tribute, not a gift, but by the king’s orders.

Israel’s cries to God, about their being bereft,
Brought about the sending of a rescuer from the Lord.
Ehud, a man ambidexterous and lethal with his left,
Wore on his right thigh a cubit-length sword.

Ehud is sent by God to ease Israel’s suffering, 
And is quickly added with those bearing the treasure.
He conceals his double-edged sword with a covering
And, pretending to have an errand, asks the King’s pleasure.

Eglon, a king who rules with an iron rod,
Believes Ehud’s pretense of a secret task--
A special message he says is from God—
And sees Ehud in his parlor as he asks.

Eglon the king rises from his lounging,
As Ehud announces what his visit is about.
With sword in hand, Ehud is suddenly bounding
And stabbing the king until his entrails fall out.

Ehud dashes out on the porch, locking doors in back.
He dashes by idols and monuments of stone and iron,
And flees toward Mount Ephraim, following the track,
Where timely he lifts and blows the trumpet of  Zion.



Details | Rhyme | |

The Bully Part 1

The Bully

27 Years ago, you showed me the door,
Because I wouldn’t do what you wanted anymore.
That day was the worst of my life,
I wanted to die, to escape the strife.
All I needed was a simple letter,
To give me a chance to get better.
Now when I look back and see, you certainly did
 me a favour that day.
In 1986 Thursday the first of May.
From then on people listened to what I had to say,
Doctors and Nurses went out or their way,
I got the treatment I needed at last,
Bit by bit they went over the past.
One whole year is all it took,
A lot of hard work, a little luck.
To this very day I have never been back,
26 whole years and that’s a fact.
The last few years have been the best of my life,
Truly content being a Mother and Wife.
And Nanny as well,
Must not let my head swell,
A collection of poems all written by me..
My story in 7 magazines for the whole world to see.
A whole new extension to the house designed by me.
Also having to cope with the death of my mother,
Then four months later the death of my mother’s sister,
God not another.
Having my kitchen demolished completely,
did put me in a fix.
But being so well, even that couldn’t knock me for six.
So remember the next time someone begs you for a letter,
At least give THEM, the chance to get better.
For as long as I live I will never for get that terrible day,
Thursday 1986 the first of May,
The day that you showed me the door,
Just because I wouldn’t do what you wanted anymore.
They say that time heals all pain,

I’m lucky I’ve learnt to live again.







Details | Rhyme | |

La Bejarena

La Béjareña

Oh sweet Angel of Jesus, wherefore lies your grave?
Your blood that is of Navarro, that Corsican so brave
She was a proud Tejana, such a beauty once they say
That enchanted Santa Anna, so far back in the day

On fairy feet she floated in Béjar’s promenade
Like radiating moonbeams her beauty was conveyed
Mantilla and peineta in the latest Spanish style
Caballeros peacocked near her, each hoping for a smile

But for noble Béjar maidens, any glancing was taboo
Except for caballeros that her family nodded to
A curtsey and a flourished bow were the courtly ways
Of greeting one another back in those golden days

Such a fine tradition was the Béjar promenade 
To the Veramendi Palace, perhaps a masquerade
Or to dance a light fandango by the river’s perfumed air
All seemed much more beautiful when close to one so fair

Those were the days of wonder, when Béjar was so sweet
Before the revolution, and the Alamo’s defeat
Before some Anglos came to take with gun and Negro slave
The land that brave Tejanos had bled and died to save

Béjar was filled with drunkards, and rogues of every kind
No promenade was possible in streets so unrefined
And over near the Alamo, where freedom’s price was dear
The price was now determined by the slavery auctioneer

And yet one Anglo gentleman, a major in the war
Touched with noble chivalry, and the ways of a señor
The captured despot’s life did save, upon that victory day
From those who would have hanged the knave, down San Jacinto way

The moment that she met him, in the formal Spanish style
And looked into his honest eyes without a trace of guile
And read his soul so brave and pure, it seemed that time stood still
As nature linked their hearts as one, according to its will

A thousand days of happiness, a thousand days of bliss
Were all that God would grant them both before their final kiss
She laid her hero in his grave, and took their son in hand
And thought of how to speak to him and make him understand

Her gentle eyes had lost their shine; her hair was touched with gray
They wed her to the Dunker man, who took her far away
He never knew her sorrow, he never knew her soul
Inside her lonely citadel of iron self-control

He left her for another wife, and cast them all aside
But a mother’s duty to her sons would never be denied
And at the age of fifty-six, the time at last arrived
When she could welcome willingly the deadly reaper’s scythe

Oh sweet Angel of Jesus, wherefore lies your grave?
Your blood that is of Navarro, that Corsican so brave
By the village of Las Moras, down Rio Bravo way?
No one seems to know for sure, unto this very day

Oh, sons of Navarro!  Let not that Béjar rose
Lie with the dust of strangers, where no one ever goes
Join her with her heart's true love, on acres gently blessed
With shady hills below pecans, where heroes go to rest

Notes:
This historical poem is about one of my HS classmate's Tejano (in the original 
sense) ancestors from the time of the Texas Revolution and the story is told 
from that perspective.

The main characters are not named in the poem intentionally, and place names 
are the old Spanish ones, but I will share with you the names of the 
protagonist and her true love, in case you are interested in reading about 
them. Her name was Angela de Jesus Maria Blasa Navarro. She was the niece of 
Juan Antonio Navarro, one of the signers of the Texas Declaration of 
Independence and a member of the important Navarro family of Bejar, present 
day San Antonio. She married William Gordon Cooke, one of the heroes of the 
Texas revolution, who is buried on Republic Hill at the Texas State cemetery 
along with other notables. Angela was buried near Brackettville, originally called 
Las Moras.


The Dunker man was Angela's 2nd husband, Abraham Geiger Martin. He was a 
member of the German Baptist Brethren church, nicknamed Dunkers because 
they practiced full body baptism, but required three full immersions before you 
were properly baptized. Apparently the marriage was a total failure and he 
divorced her, leaving her to raise his son and William Cooke's son alone.


Details | Free verse | |

Chanel No5

Chanel No.5
-------------------


On the borderline of photos and time
We don't want to leave her now

"What do I wear to bed? Why, Chanel No.5, of course!"

Something in curves, a beautiful crime
She doesn't want to leave somehow

"What do I wear to bed? Why, Chanel No.5, of course!"

News-reel prints
and print-press presidents
Diamond boys
and silver screen compliments
A ten-thousand soldier stare,
and sexual laissez-faire
The every-woman's woman
of secret doors to nowhere

"What do I wear to bed? Why, Chanel No.5, of course!"

On the borderline of photos and time
She doesn't want to leave somehow

What did she wear when dead?

Why, Chanel No.5, of course...


Details | Free verse | |

THE LAST STAND

THE LAST STAND

Where have all my people gone, the Navaho, Lakota, and the Sue.
Smothered beneath the white man blanket,
Chocking for a breath of airs life's sustaining oxygen.
The beating heart of native drums, are stilled frozen,
In the middle of it's rhythmic thumping, no pulses echo,
Can be heard on the open plain.
The weeping women kneel on sacred ground, shedding
A river of bloods tears, burning a permanent scare across,
A baron landscape.
Death's black raven shields itself, under it's crimson soaked wing,
Against shames immoral injustice. 
Greed's unsatisfiable hunger for land and riches fuels lusts desire,
Behold exterminations nay holocaust of the native inhabitance,
  Nothing remains alive except ignorance blackened shadow.
How much blood can mother earth be forced to drink before,
She drowns herself or spits up everything undigested,
 With sheer disdain and hatreds malice intent.
On a black and white chess board the winners takes it all,
Strategies grand masters playing with living pawns.
Treaties written in vanishing ink, promises disappear in thin air,
 Revealing a liars sharpened tongue.
The odds have always been stacked against those believing in fairness.
A rogue tidal wave of humanity has wiped out a nation,
And it's culture within the blink of an eye.
Flights appendages are clipped on the dove of peace, leaving it
Unable to soar above it's own habitat.
Wreckage’s refugees stumble in the ruins after math,
Rapes victims of civilizations civilized,
Are left devoid of their heritages lineage and legacy.
Elders chieftains representatives of a great nation,
Smoke peace pipes in the white mans hunting lodge
In Washington.
As human beings are hauled like cattle's cargo,
Taken to reservations burial grounds. 
Ancient ancestors lit up the heaven's vast expanse,
 By torches flame,
To guide the souls of the dead unto their great spiritual
 Plain beyond.
The pale horse gallops forward without a rider,
And the red people become a phantom tribe vanishing
 Upon the winds shifting tides.
Giving one last final trible battle war cry, 
Why my father but the great spirit answers not.
Behold America's legacy, a world trampled beneath
It's heavy iron fist, all in the name of progress or for the cause
Of Manifest destiny.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Details | Narrative | |

My Legacy

My ancestors came here long ago
Tough and strong not weak
But somewhere down along the line
Something went terribly wrong
And now I have to sit here and deal with my legacy
Of not what I thought it would be
Not where I choose to be right now
The legacy that’s me.

I can’t escape the past
The memories seem to last
Of the horrors of what has come before
The graveyard is the place
I can see it on my face 
My family’s legacy of suicide 
is haunting me.

My generational legacy
Is it going to kill me
Or will it just let sleeping dogs lie 
And allow me to exist
Will it allow me to just to see
The me that I am meant to be
To live beyond my years
To grow beyond the tears
To handle all my fears
To defy what could have been
My legacy.

(November 13, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved 


Details | Free verse | |

Houses of Stone - Linn Grove Subdivision

Under the wrought iron arch and gateway
crawling with both wild and deep red creepers
complimented by evergreens.
The fall colors are splendid.

Most of the flowers are giving way 
to the chill, and the swans are graceful and content
with the breeding season now over

Walking slowly along the narrow drive,
spots of color scatter around the green grass.
What beautiful yards,
each house made of stone,
granite - marble - sandstone.
The foundation of the earth

Dark stone black, pink, white, gray, burnt umber, rose
beautiful houses inviting you closer,
please see my name.
I was here many years ago.
Cholera came to me and took my spirit away.
But I was pretty and young and full of joy.
For a little while.

Old stones to the early 1800's.
Stones with angels guarding a lamb
baby tears fall, in time giving the stone soft edges.

One from yesterday.

Come see me in my house. Mausoleum strong and tall. 
Handsome and successful.
Each as individual in death as their homes and places were in life. 

Over here, I fought for my country. Me and all my buddies here, 
laid out under each of these many white crosses.

Hello, don’t forget my free spirit ... riding high over the houses
touring where ever the wind wishes.
Swirling fine invisible ashes through the trees
sparkling in the late closing sun.

A town’s history. Natural, tragic, sickness, murder ... all here 
The history wraps around the casual visitor.
Keening out not to be forgotten.
Calling, we were important pioneers. 

The end of day sun setting on their windows
Aglow with the spirit of yesteryear.


Details | Quintain (English) | |

One Sad Day

.

Fifteen years ago when  my father died
To the hospital I carried him that ill fated day
The staff was caring for him so by his side I could not abide
Then very  swiftly to surgery he was  taken away
As I was eating, God spoke to me in spirit and I felt daddy brush as he went away

Contest: God, Ghost, and Love
Sponsor: Dr. Ram Mehta


Details | Ballad | |

Antigone

I am the face of misery
My life, a dissonance of autumn and spring,
The years are written in the same
Lugubrious, nostalgic grey
How can it be the author to blame?
I cannot scream this all away…
Burn nor Bleed this all away…
To Death I am Ordained

Lacuna ever growing
With Velvet sheets of life flowing
Aeons apart of my "royalty"
Under the mask the cannot see...
Can you dispel this tragedy:
Antigone - Epiphany failing

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

No words of hope
No words of hate
Do I have Lenore to send to me:
The sordid child of Thebes
Caught In the longest nightmare
life - the slowest way to die

I know this is my life 
But I'm not under control
under the mask the will see
Just Another Human

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

Can you dispel my life; this tragedy?
Can you control the storm in my mind?
I'm asking you: can you rid me
Of The Curse of Antigone?


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Celtic Lunar Sacrifice

     CELTIC LUNAR SACRIFICE
That night,  the dead, rose up into the dark of night,
to make their way led by the Druids' burning light;
there's buried many soul they chained and bound
deep in the mother earth, their mournful sound
is wailing through the dark of this, their dreaded night.

The bonfires burned and brightly through the land of Gaul
the dead of plants, and dying life, they burned them all
as sacrifice to help ones through the cold
of coming months of misery untold
but prophesied to be, throughout the land of Gaul.

And there beneath the Celtic moon to lead them on
all madness of the times prevailed from dark to dawn
The mid of ev'nin brought the earthly fear
of death to all who looked--their death was near,
a blessing that would keep the others living on.

And so the lord of death would pass them by that night
they stretched some maiden's arms, and bound them tight,
who might have shown a bit too much desire
and set their souls adrift that night a'fire,
and some say we still hear them screaming out tonight.
© Ron Wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

THE FALL OF BAGHDAD

     THE FALL OF BAGHDAD
What rite of passage, moves one to the light,
and through the healing of all earthly ail,
bestows this breath of life, to make it right,
Oh Babylon, tis time for life to fail.

Harm thee no thing, no spirit in the sky,
nor any beast nor fowl who's meant to flyl

In algebric expression, your unknown,
will show the spirit world we fail to see,
Your recognizing from your flowers grown
In Poppy fields, your highs not meant to be.

We've paid the price, for all to bear your sin
And left you with no peace you have to win.

Each algebric expression drives us mad,
now your unknown is where we have to hide,
it matters not your ending will be sad,
Scheherazade may dance, but she has lied.

The streets of Baghdad--Babylon's decay
Are made to waste, they will not have their day.

No Shamanistic eye can bear your weight,
nor transforms what you've been to other things,
and when you see the truth, it's all in hate
that brings the end, of which all life now sings.

Witch Doctors all have read bones all the same,
It is our end, and Babylon's to blame.
© ron wilson


Details | Rondeau | |

Vengeance is Mine

the sack cloth lay
black as ash upon the mourners  
the sack cloth lay
tears could not soften or defray
rods could not break its rough corners
upon witnesses at vespers
the sack cloth lay


Revelation 11:3
And I will cause my two witnesses to prophesy 
a thousand two hundred and sixty days dressed in sackcloth...
Romans 12:19 Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, 
but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, 
Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.



Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

The darkness at noon


Details | Limerick | |

These Colors Don't Run Limerick

<                                 once were twin towers on horizon
                                   bombarded by Al Qaeda what sin
                                   then came many heros
                                   lost too at ground zero
                                   America's flag still flew in wind




In Loving Memory To Those Lost
On 911 R.I.P. You Are Not Forgotten


Details | Villanelle | |

Morning mocks, evening wars

Morning mocks, evening 
wars make better strive
If must overcome heels 
in this roster
There are much beliefs in 
everlasting live.

Pieces and splits are rigid 
when alive
Devils' wraths chainless for 
many master
Morning mocks, evening 
wars make better strive.

Living worthy life begets 
ever-live
And hasten shadows 
overthrone siesta
We shall become history 
when we die

Many laws and more rules 
muse when alive
And must still to the 
opera monster
Morning mocks, evening 
wars make better strive

Surviving the tunnel 
needs better life
By being grateful to man 
and Master
We shall become history 
when we die

There are much believe 
in everlasting live
Less sojourn and final 
route to Master
Morning mocks, evening 
wars make better strive
We shall become history 
when we die


Details | Free verse | |

An island of Pandemonium

Beyond the leggy palm trees you can hear them calling out 
Through the diffused light and thin curtains called home- 
Are a people in need 
Brought to there knees with infelicitous faces-
Filled with confusion and doubt 

Broken hearts in broken places, loss of life-
In an atmosphere of raw humanity 
Through there dusty desperate lives they plea for substantial means 
Tested beyond their capacity resting in squalid conditions-
Praying into their Christianity 

No mortal man of compassion could stand by
And be witness such devastation 
Sparse medical means in a land crumbling from the inside
Many impoverished brave men waited by the loud white gates 
For a voice a glimmer or hope from their leader guru 

 
To the victims the questions remains why?
Everywhere in every corner tears pooled into hands 
Contentious people begging for water and pointing to their bodies 
I was brought out to the edge of my chair from what I viewed 
An act of God has taken some many lives and left me in a state of stupor 
I said a prayer for the people of Haiti




  
 


Details | Epic | |

With all good well wish for all

With all good well wishes 
Bright young man  
The youngest child in family
Fly its soul to whole world
His peace his laughter his thoughts
God it is fair taking lives of children
We fail yet monsters kill our children
How overcome to genetic disorder
How overcome to weapons kill our children
Hope in science and  families return  their weapons


Details | Free verse | |

A Poem for Bloodshed

How sad is the day
when we celebrate the death of a man?
Good or evil, 
is justice so blind that it lets us know
wrong from right? 
You kill a man
but not an idea.
You celebrate a death,
you create more enemies.
Is there any justice done in killing
regardless of the actions?
Tell me how blood washed away blood?

A.N: this is a rough in the making.


Details | Lyric | |

Come As You Are

At one point in my life i was an artist
I used to paint and draw
Covering a piece of paper
In beautiful colors
And my art told a story
The sort of story you couldn't talk about
I used to go to school every day
Showing up late 
Wasn't something I'd do
But i dropped out
Leaving my education behind
I played the bass guitar
In a band called 
The Nocturnal
My fingers ran against that bass
Pure magic
The sound of the gods
Setting out to destroy the world
Pure Punk straight from Seattle
At one point i was clean
Sober and pure like a new born baby
Falling further into 
What you now call 
"disapointment"
Screwing up my veins
with every shot of herion
Killing my brain cells
With every joint i smoked
Clogging up my nose 
With every pill you could have known
I used to write lyrics
About my life
My childhood
I used to write journals
The ones you read in the book 
that was published of me
I got up on that stage every night
As i was
Nothing fake
Nothing glamourous
Only a few scars
One shot of heroin
Come as you are
The words only speak for 
Themselves


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Distillery I rented from John Stienbachs ghost

                    It was a moment in time 
                  a fate of inspiration gifted 
            I believe I was lifted a destiny in writing 
                I would vibrantly pursue .
             Renting a cottage once in Monterey Bay
           this cottage special in some way
          
            The very minute moving.. I felt a presence 
                      giving me no serenity , no rest 
                            feeling I were a quest ~

                 After desiring this home so                            
                      telling the Realtor ~ I made a mistake     
                     She told me be calm ~
                        many have said this before you 
                               ~ this haunt was not a new 

                  For once lived a Writer ~well respected Gent
               His cottage a distillery during the time of prohibition.

                  Many Gents and Ladies came to this cottage 
                      unlawfully gamble & drink through the night
                    Who would think , Doc Ricketts in Cane & Hat
                               it was a party by moon light  ~
                      
                              In the back a distillery hidden in a old shed
                                    many Alcoholics were fed ~
 
                         The ghost popular quite the Ladies man ~
                                I was honored while feeling displaced  

                                 For those who have not read my poems 
                                    ~   and this may be new. 
                                          This really happened ~
                      The ghost of John Steinbach rented me his home True
                                   
 

                  Yvette & The ghost of John Steinbach's  , Teamwork  9/14/2013 
    


Details | Nonet | |

Hillsborough 1989

April sunlight darkened to terror
death's stadium echoed with screams
the air rank with our vomit
our fingers clawing steel
frantic to escape
suffocating
lungs heaving
to draw
air



*96 people died at Hillsborough

by Charlotte Puddifoot 6/10/2012
for Nette Onclaud's 'Imagination' contest


Details | Choka | |

A Gladiator's Freedom

On sand soaked with blood, two young men are breathing hard. The taller one has armor, a sword and a net. His opponent has only an arm guard and a dagger, but no encumbrance. Thus, moving quicker, this man avoids the constant thrusts of the taller one’s sword. Finding his chance, he lunges and his dagger pierces through unprotected flesh. Crimson red blood gushes forth from the tall man’s thick midriff. The crowd screams delight! Spurred on by their approval, the shorter man strikes again. This time his dagger finds muscle, sinew and bone. Hot pain consumes the tall man, but he can't cry out. His life blood is draining and the net and sword are useless. By oath he is bound to endure a violent death. . . and so he lifts his finger. To his friend - his opponent - he offers his throat. No mercy handkerchiefs wave. The editor gives thumbs down. As his fellow man buries the blade in his throat, a young man embraces death. The death of this slave is the gladiator’s lot. Another slave lives today, but his death also is imminent; then he too will finally know freedom. For Amy Green's Choka for a Chokehold Poetry Contest


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Lucid Dream

Look upon city once known by name,
ruins that I called home, streets swallowed by flame,
in time alive shell not witness less of what should you understand,
reach on to hand of a stranger, scroll remain;
in signs that might be changing welcome,
different of a man.

When dawn awakes and there is no light,
upon dusk of man darkness will be spread by sight,
in time not different change will arise, life we thought you knew,
death would recognize.

Hearts will bound to King without a Crown,
why do mothers shed tears, echo rooted in the ground,
is there reason of a foolish wars, contracts written in blood,
new born babies died breathless, can't even appreciate the Sun,
don't deserve to live, not worth of the land,
existence will be scattered in ashes,
you will be remembered
by name.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Sleeping Giant

<                 the sleeping giant once again has been awoke
                   to the sounds of great thunder and billows of smoke
                   what has happened his imperial's majesty's sleep
                   out from the depts of hell a great wavetrain has creeped


                   tainting soil where once land had been so enriched
                   brandishing homes businesses left them in a ditch
                   twisted metals dancing in swirls of stenching air
                   recovered bodies of beloved this is so unfair


                   across it's great mountain range somber is now heard
                   unity becomes one and not forgotten word
                   rebuild rebuild the sleeping giant request
                   let our people of japan return to their nest


                  for there will always's be another tomorrow
                  where earthquakes and tsunami's will bring such sorrow
                  for an sleeping giant all nestled in his bed
                  and his people dressed in five elements of thread





Tribute To Japan


Details | Ballad | |

PICCANINNY DAWN

The old man and his grandson viewed 
A barren bladeless ground. 
When to his left the young lad's eye 
Saw bleached bones scattered 'round. 
'Twas more than one beast's bones that lay 
There exposed to the sun. 
It seemed more like a battlefield 
Where only death had won. 
 
The old man saw the young lad wince, 
He reined in close behind. 
As memories of what took place 
Came flooding through his mind. 
A century turned, but not his luck, 
For rains had failed again. 
He slowly watched the dams dry up 
While cattle died in pain. 
 
A little water still remained 
Though sought by feral stock. 
Some brumbies which came down at dawn 
Still often used the block. 
In good times no one cared that much, 
But not so any more. 
The young lad's dad and this old man 
Both knew what lay in store. 
 
A high log fence closed off the dam, 
The timber they had sawn. 
Suspended gate it lay in wait 
For piccaninny dawn. 
Then as the last mare ambled through 
Wood gate it dropped like lead. 
A wood rail race seemed their escape, 
But death lurked there instead. Their capital had all dried up, 
No cash for lead and gun. 
To execute the feral stock 
Took knife and old man's son. 
With legs astride the wood rail race 
Son grimaced as he drew 
That blade of death 'cross jug'lar vein, 
Then slapped the victim through. 
 
Each fleet foot spirit faltered there 
A hundred yards away, 
While blazing eyes showed fear of death, 
Mouths gave a weakened neigh. 
Then one by one their weak frames fell 
Onto the dusty ground. 
The racing hearts of those poor beasts 
Then gave their final pound. 
 
The slaughter did not save the stock 
For all the dams went dry. 
It fin'ly broke the old man's son, 
He watched the grown man cry. 
All this the old man told the lad, 
The picture was now drawn. 
On why his dad then took his life 
One piccaninny dawn. 

The young lad then took from his head
his father's sweat stained hat
And as he wiped the tears away
He said, Gramps thanks for that."
I'd always had my doubts you see
About the way Dad died,
But now I know the truth at last
I'll wear this hat with pride.


Details | Free verse | |

May 4th

Frustration
Confusion
Panic
Rage
Violance
Death
May 4th is still alive.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

A Survivor's Story

I wake up to a deserted town
"Where are the people?"
I ask myself aloud.
"Gone." answers a voice.
But no one's here...
but me.

Broken glass litters the street, 
a Kristallnacht in the making.
Houses, half gone and half standing,
specked the dirt road.

I lay, pinned to the ground by a monstrous wall...
I don't know if I'll be able to move...
but I must try. 

"Hello! Anyone there?"
No reply.... just what I thought.
As distress fills my heart,
I use that anger and helpless feeling to my advantage
and somehow
I managed to lift the heavy burden off my chest.
But this was a small victory in what seemed to be WW II.

ALAS! I remember.
This is WW II....
and the US had just dropped something...
something unusual on my town...
I'm surprised I'm still alive.

The explosion was enough to kill all of my native land, 
Japan.
But it only stopped 2 miles from the heart of my country,
Tokyo.
But no time for reminiscing. 
I must find a way out of this...
hell.

A sharp pain in my chest heaves me to the ground,
I've seen this ground so many times, face to face.
Something starts to lunge itself out of my mouth.
When I look down, I notice
that it is my own blood.

I knew I must find a hospital, quick, 
but which way was which?
Was East West? Was West South? 
Was North behind me? Was South ahead?

I sulked in defeat as I trudged along a snake-like road...
a road to nowhere. 

I grew weary, hungry, tired
but I knew I must walk on.
Every few minutes, I'll drop to my knees
and cough up my life support, 
but I couldn't let that stop me.

The sun went down,
but I didn't.
The moon rose,
I kept walking.
The sun started his day-shift, 
but I was at work all night,
counting steps and listening my heart beat.

Finally, I lost the will to live,
I wanted to die, 
I waited to die...
But death didn't come.

I spit up blood every few seconds now.
Life leaving me with every breath.
I close my eyes, and draw in my last breath.

Muffled sounds reach my ears.....
I try to look but my vision's blurred.
Everything blacks out.

"I will not be defeated" 

My vision is back.... I see people...
Everything blacks out.

"I will not be defeated"

I see their faces now, splattered with dirt and dust
Everything blacks out.

"I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED!!!!!"

I CAN SEE!

"Are you with us?!"
A desperate cry reaches my ears.
And I reply, 
"Yes. Yes I am."


Details | Limerick | |

Farm Boy Lost

Farm boy Judd McFadden joined the army and was sent to Afghanistan.
Three months later he was shot and killed by a sorry jihadist from Pakistan.
His buddies crossed the border,
Despite a direct order,
And chased down the lousy dirty stinking rat bastard devil worshipping Taliban.


Details | Than-Bauk | |

Oh My God That's So Sad

<       Hands and feet nailed
         face so pale now
         tears hale down cheeks


Details | Free verse | |

Passchendale: 3rd Battle of Ypres, 1916

Even the dead reject this blasted earth.

The ground, such as it is,
Is freshly Antidiluvean,
And the corpses swim within its tumbled, heaving masses
Blood and mud the mortar
Holding the chaos together.

The sun is weak,
Ashamed to break the haze
And bring to light the obscenities transpiring here.

The whistles blow
And the troglodytes emerge
From their respective holes,
Staggering towards one another
Through watery craters
Over the mincemeat of comrades
To add themselves to the swimming sacrifice
Constantly on offer 
To the insatiable, sole diety of this place,
The Mud-God, Futility.

     They are men no more,
     Those who struggle 'neath
     The leaden skies
     The wan sun
     Of the sodden moonscape
     That is Passchendale.

     They are only raging beasts
     Trading pain for pain,
     All trace of cause or reason
     Lost in the maelstrom of their collective misery -

And the only escape
Is to slay and to be slain;
To join the bitter shades
Ascending with the fog and smoke
Through the wall of cloud above,
To vanish into the icy deeps
Among the far, impassive stars.


Details | Free verse | |

Ides of November

.          
                    A November day, washed bright and clean 
                     light rains had ceased, and skies were blue
                     But a thought, obscene, would dim the sun
                     In a deadly script, which paled Macbeth
                     One plot would darken the light with death

I was about to stretch beyond my teens
and youth was perched upon the brink
As the callow child I was back then
I would immortalize between extremes
But only acknowledged the world in distant hues
Sometimes grief would have a passive view
 
But then, upon the landscape new
I was thrown to wolves in black and white
I couldn't grasp those first words said
A true-life drama, of horrendous dread

Cascading, first with deep unrest
when cold war's threat, or deep unrest
with wars afar, I sat expecting
happy endings, with stories told
unfolding good around the bend,
where naive' dreams had always been
 
This sudden turning of the tide
had come to change my voice inside...
knocking hard upon my door
deeply shocking,...to the core
rocking how I viewed the world

     With an anchored face, yet, strangely rue
     Apparent angst, his stolen breath
     He cleared his throat, and shared the news,
     With Cronkite calm, as if a stone,
     tho' cautious, stunning words to choose

     In his eyes, the sorrow shone
     I looked to him for confidence
     The magnitude, too great to own 
     I needed guidance and a chance
     to lean into his trusted arms
     this mortal moment too immense 


I see it now, still clearly formed 
The day was bright, with amber light
The sun was out, and lingered warm

Football games, a dance that night 
Holidays had been conceived
But death came crashing down with spite

Tragedy came in as thick as thieves,
The devil's plot to interweave



_______________________________________________


Details | Ballad | |

Deadman Wonderland

Now that you're becoming Undone It's time to have some fun In Deadman Wonderland Khoon Tu Kao Khoon Tu Kao Khoon Tu Kao The setting Red Sun of Kali Shows it's time for your life to Pay We are the Kind to be feared -your friends We look like anyone you see Thuggee--Death's Devotees Face our treachery Bhowanee we must please She needs more--we have found our mark, our mark Won't you be the one to save humanity? Can't you see this is Deadman Wonderland Khoon Tu Kao Khoon Tu Kao Khoon Tu Kao Sacrifice! For The Black-Skinned Queen Sacrifice! For Our Mother Kali Sacrifice! It's Not Enough Sacrifice! No Mercy! This is Deadman Wonderland Deadman Wonderland This is Deadman Wonderland Deadman Wonderland


Details | Rhyme | |

Another Unknown Soldier

Green locusts whirl and flap above,
 A long way from Chicago, love.
Out here, the armor piercing dove
will make you scream for mothers' love.
Through layers of mud, I'm still alive
if life just means what I survive.
The mortars thunk, I shove and dive.
I don't think I'm--------------------------.


The World of War: Vietnam.

Gerard F. Keogh Jr.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Halloween Scene: The Morning After

I hope you slept well. I hope you slept tight
I hope the creepy crawlies didn't come in the night
Did you open your eyes? Did you take in the sight
Of a hovering figure, pale and white?

Did you feel the cold breath? Did you feel the sharp bite?
Did the moaning and screaming give you a fright?
Did you show all your fear? Did you hide in the light?
As your wide eyes and shivering make them excite.

Did you hear from outdoors, victims’ helpless calls?
Did you hear your name echo outside in the halls?
Did you feel the cold slime 'drip - drip' on your head?
Did you notice the finger tips crawl round your bed?

Were there hand prints and puddles the colour of red?
Were there blood trails of foot prints from the undead?
If you woke up and saw none of what I just said
I'm sure they'll return to your dreams instead

That night may be over but there'll be many more
The undead do not rest; it's what they live for
They thrive on the hunt with a dribbling jaw
So keep your ears open for that creak of your door

Watch for the long fingers that be unforeseen
That creep round the corner, all scaly and green
I'm just happy I lived to tell the tales I've seen
I just hope you all had a Happy Halloween.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Chicago Haymarket Riot of 1886

It was in eighteen eighty-six in the streets of Chicago, where the greatest miscarriage of justice people would know transpired in an infamous labor-police rendezvous. Albert Parsons led eighty thousand people on revue. The strikers marched down Chicago’s Michigan Avenue. The Knights of Labor were sponsors for the work stoppage venue. Demands for shorter work hours and no child labor were made. This would be regarded as the world’s first May Day parade. Thousands nationwide would join in with the activities In the next few days, the striking workers stopped whole industries. On the third, some strikers and police engaged in melees. These actions resulted in two ill-fated fatalities. The struggles also caused some severe hideous injuries. The fights took place at the McCormick Harvester Company. Many held the police for murderous culpability. Organizers from the Knights of Labor held a mass rally at the Haymarket in Chicago’s West Loop vicinity. They would assemble there in the early part of May. Thousands crowded there peacefully on the month’s fourth day. Leaflets were passed noting the police for murder to the crowd as anarchists urged the mobs to join forces and shout aloud. A bomb thrown at the police catalyzed an altercation. One officer was killed and others hurt in the explosion. Matthias Degan was the officer fallen in duty. Seven other policemen died later from an injury. The police opened fire on the people immediately. At least eleven of the strikers were shot at fatally. Eight men stood trial for the death of police officer Degan. They were Parsons, August Spies, George Engel, Samuel Fielden, Adolf Fischer, Louis Lingg, Michael Schwab, and Oscar Neebe. All eight were tried and found guilty by a judge and jury. Neebe got fifteen years; the others got the death penalty. Schwab and Fielden were commuted to life; then got clemency. Lingg took his own life before his scheduled execution. The remaining four men were hanged in public exhibition. Since then, there have been enacted many labor reform laws The men who died are considered martyrs to a noble cause. I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for the information I obtained to write this poem.


Details | Rhyme | |

HISTORY IN POETRY-

HISTORY IN POETRY

REMEMBER, REMEMBER THE 5TH of NOVEMBER.

The world still remembers Mr Guy Fawkes,
who plotted to blow up the House of Lords.
Tortured, guilty of treason, the story is told
how he cheated The Hangman; he jumped off the scaffold.
A broken neck did not appease the Crown,
who hung and quartered all foes of renown.
In response, a decree that all people remember
the failed plot; a holiday, for the 5th of November! 

Children hunt while mothers groan,
‘Why can’t we be left alone?
All we want is a place to rest, 
But all we hear is, ‘Where’s Grandpa’s vest?
You want those old trousers I threw out,
and those old shoes, with their soles half out?
If I threw them out, then they’re no good,
So please be quiet you know you should.’

‘We won’t be noisy; we will be good.
We’re looking for two long bits of wood.’
‘Hey Mum, we found these sticks, in the bombed out houses.
Can we have Dad’s old coat; and those old trousers?’
Stuffed with paper, gosh, he’s fat!
The bonfire’s ready, but where’s Guy’s hat?
Oh there it is, stuck fast in that briar,
Now Guy Fawkes was ready for our street’s Bon-Fire.

We couldn’t bother Mum, and Dad was at his works,
but, we needed money to buy fireworks.
‘Penny for the Guy, Mister,’ we called outside the shop,
‘we must have some crackers when we put him up top.’
Bangers and Jumping Jacks, were thrown on the ground
to give a fright and a scare as all dodged around.
There were bottles with rockets that fly to the sky.
There were hands in pockets; warm and dry.

The flames rose high, we could see through the fire.
The Guy stood up on his funeral pyre.
He cannot jump off that pile of wood;
he’s tied tight to the chair that used to be good.
On the chair’s legs, we all scratched our names,
And remember the reason as it goes up in flames.
Guy Fawkes, on barrels of gun powder; a patsy
for the treasonable reasons of Robert Catesby.

Remember, remember the 5th of November
not for the gunpowder, the treason or the plot.
Betrayed, found guilty, Fawkes cheated being slaughtered.
By the government who wanted him drawn and quartered,
but Guy Fawkes? He died his way, whether they liked it or not. 


Details | Tanka | |

Guardian Spirits

the chill of  tombstone
resists the fall of jade lawn
cross entrusted perch
eagle guardian spirit  
haunt the field of past mourning


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Breathe

Dear Father, 

There is so much death here
That I dare not breathe
The staggering stench of civility
This scurrilous silence of infamy
Clinging to the remains of children
Now but an empty glare

The sky is a poisonous plume
Drowning the once bellowing sun
As sealed letters of siphoned voices
Trickle beneath the ruddy rubble
Held hostage in dying pockets
Never to be heard by the living
Again

There are bodies in roadways
Tossed like carcasses of meat 
Entire families ravaged
Rotting
In crimson soaked ravines

How did it come to this
This blasphemy of blessings
Where nightmares dream of empty beds
And modest meals serve warm faces
That hold the frigid world at bay
Until the widows of war sail
Again

Forgive me
For my pride has forsaken 
All that I hold dear
The company of my brothers
The prayers of my mother
The wishes of my father
Which still guide my trembling hand
As these words posthumously breathe
Off the page

I am…home


Details | Free verse | |

Pride and Predators

Even predators have mothers
and with the soft mewling eyes of infancy
they search, search for the breast of mother
the beak, the tooth, the talon, the claw…
Children worldwide hunger.
The small weak voices and stone dead eyes calling out
to those who have…
Mothers making stone soup.
Mothers giving of their own body the last
remnants of harsh life as the haves
go on safari’s or to zoos to
feed the animals.


Details | Clerihew | |

Griselda Blanco

Griselda Blanco, “The Black Widow”,
Female Narcotráfico
Killed her husband through suspicion,
And so took out the competition.

Cocaine Godmother, “La Madrina”,
Infamous Queen-pin Latina,
Her means of death her own creation,
Motorcycle assassination


Details | Rhyme | |

Nothing More Or Less

Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
Imagination trims
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Hollywood rounds
Quills deliver
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
Tragedies
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less

My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Dead
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less

I cringed for originality 
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED 
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less

Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark 
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less


Details | Ballad | |

The sunyassin

As far as I know this is a true story about Alexandra the great...Peter



The Sannyasin.

Alexander said to Dandamis
"Old man you come with me
For I need me a sannyasin
To take across the seas.
Hey you be just a beggar man
I'll make you rich indeed
You'll live a life of luxury
With everything you need.

Dandamis standing naked there
With silence in his essence
He had no fear at all did he
In the mighty leaders presence.
He said "I'll give you nothing friend
And there's nothing that I need
So Alexandra drew his sword
Tried to make the beggar plead.

Dandamis laughed and said these words
With power in his voice
"You can put that sword right through my heart
My friend, that be your choice.
But I left this body long ago
I have no use for it
So pierce this heart my fine young friend
It won't harm me a bit.

Alexander he was beaten
By a fearless beggar man
Though he had won most of the world
Dandamis foiled his plans.
The beggar said "You say you're great
But that's not true at all
For any man that thinks he's great
He be merely a fool


Details | Free verse | |

Americas Villain

Low flying plane
Cloudless sky, bright blue
Steel clashing, burning orange
Cloudless no more, smoke fills the sky
Thick, gray, rolls through the city
Much more than a tragedy
3,000 deaths
Millions affected
Billions left with a dark memory seared in their minds
By the hands of one, and
A search begins
War, oil, money
What are we really fighting for?
A man, a coward, a villain 
A decade of suffering mentally, 
The pain lies in the gaping hole of our hearts 
And is filled, with the demise of
America’s villain


Details | Senryu | |

The World's Losses

Flares of fire erupt, Dust in the wind, ~ The World’s losses. Tears from everyone, Pain unimaginable, ~ the world’s losses. Written by Lee Ramage September 10, 2011 For Caroline Devonshire’s “Remembering 9/11” Placement: 7th


Details | Senryu | |

Leather Mountains

Mountains of leather,
Summit holocaust landscapes:
Valley of dead soles.







______________________________
Inspired by the piles of shoes
in the Auschwitz concentration camps


Details | Free verse | |

No Butterflies in the Ghetto

six million stones
a railroad car streaked red
a thousand astrodomes
swollen with dead children
the population of houston
dallas wiped out

ugly striped prison uniforms
signifying captures and escapes
martin luther as a bigot
bonhoeffer as a hero
dying days before the
liberation

faces from rwanda darfur
signaling the continuance
of a tradition of genocide
a danish fishing boat
hiding neighbors in a
fake bottom to escape
a wicked storming

the pictures of happy
proud loving families
bludgeoned in broken glass

a soft cloth golden star
like a slave branding
pulsating with hatred and
judgement harsher than
the ornate letter a for hester

1500000 butterflies
sewn drawn carved
remembering
the children who lost 
their lives in the 
Holocaust

"Butterflies don't live in here, here in the ghetto" Pavel Friedman, April, l942

Written after a visit to The Holocaust Museum of Houston


Details | I do not know? | |

CHALLENGE

Day and night,
I think about the truth,
Behind those hidden curtains,
Trying hard to understand,
How He thinks and do things,
Why is that that our mind so small,
Its hard for us to think beyond? 
Why did He made everything complicated for us?

I sat down my dad called,
To make me face the reality,
My heart started beating fast,
And tears run down my cheeks,
As if there was hail,
I didn't know what to say,
He told me he might not last long,
How am I going to see him?
He is on the other-side of the world?
I am worried about him,
I wish I could die with the people who I love,
I am scared to loose them
And the hard part is I dont know my dad,
I miss him!

I feel like time is close by,
And I didn't live my life as if I wish to,
I can't because things are not the same,
When I see an apple on the tree,
It feels like blood dropping beside my eyes,
I feel strange in this world,
I don't think or see the things I used to,
I stand amongst people who are changed,
In a bad way and yet the worst hasn't begun!

I can't even write my poems the same,
I can't make it rhyme anymore,
I feel like I am all alone in this,
I feel like this is a big challenge,
And I am lost in middle of no where,
I feel like nobody understands,
When the words come out my mouth,
All they hear is bluh! bluh! bluh!
I am disparate to find someone who I can talk to,
Yet I am scared to trust anybody,
I been hurt so many times,

I dont even know how to end this poem if you called it,
I have so much anger that is in me,
That no matter what I say there is still more,
That will never end,
One thing I know is I hate to be here,
And live in a place full of strangers, selfish liars, and untrusted people!


Details | Free verse | |

Holocaust

Unrecognizable breathing carcasses
March to the graceful beat of death
A welcomed sentence to their
Savagely tortured bodies
And extinguished spirits

Unjustly slaughtered by lunatic men
Self-created superiority based on
Flawed, foolish beliefs

Manically smug smiles grotesquely displayed
As they watch the skeletal scum
Forcibly assembled for
Gaseous cleansing

Violently chaotic stampeding unfolds
Blood chilling screams forever echoing
Through the chambers of hellish horrors

Until
Massacred silence

Martyred smoke clouds the sky
Fast fading in sight
But eternally haunting


Details | Free verse | |

Angel Of Death

standing emancipated 
suffering Mengele's obsession

an unsterilized scalpel
peeling away skin 
with religious zeal

cries falling upon deaf ears 
in piles with teeth 
screaming in horror


anesthetizied 


by Nazi madness...



Details | Free verse | |

Yesterday Faces: VE Day 2008

A farewell never passed
Our valediction lost to the winds
A lifetime of rage and anguish
Flowing hotly upon the detriment
And breaching.
Though not without conflict
It is under the shadow of war
Within these shattered burnt ruins 
Remains the anguish
Of sixty three years
A recollection that seeps into the void
Of my spirit
Haunting my sleep…


Details | Lyric | |

The End To A Wild Ride

This is the end of all the rollercoasters we have rode
So dont look back
Because the world is going up in smoke
Just ride along with me
We will find eachother when the light goes out

Lost in a Wilderness
Will we find ourselves again
After we have been blown up into peices
Who will survive?
Who will make it to the end?

The clouds will darken
And the sun will go black
There bombs will drop
And Silence our voices

Would we have found the love 
We were searching for in the 60's
Would we have found the peace
We researched in our childhood

Would we have fixed bullying
and told children about Columbine
Would we have stopped the Depression
And told children about the help they can get

Would we be ready when the world ends
Or will we be left in the past
Would we believe in God in time for our ending
Or will we still be selling books on another religion

One day we will forget how to hope and learn how to fear.


Details | Rhyme | |

''Gangs Of WAR''

When Good Of "EVIL," Run You Down, Remember 
What Doesn't "KILL YOU," Only Makes You, 
STRONGER, *Yes* Faith Can Break, But Our 
Strength Of Heart Together, Shall CARRY, Beyond 
To It's Highest POWER, Let Go Of Your FEARS, You 
Are As Weak As Your Weakest Link, Don't 
Patronize The Ignorance Of Foolishness, Bring 
Back The LOVE, KINDNEsS, And CARING, We All 
Once Knew, The Community...

Make It SAFE AGAIN, Towards Children's PLAY, 
Not, "GANGS OF WAR," Bursting Into Plague, 
Give It A Fighting Chance, Regain Your Balls Son, 
Be Self- ConScience, Put Down That Gun, Don't 
Leave Murder-Scream, Blood On Blood, Color On 
Color, Doesn't Matter, Stop This Hatred, From 
Ringing Out,Once More, A Blistered, Master-Mind,
Of No Peace,Kneel, Pray,To Our LORD almighty, 
Rebuild His Gateway, And Reform The Community,
Back To It's Rightful Place...
 

Re: Richard Palmer Poem 
No PEACE


Details | Free verse | |

Eyam

Tis sore int' thwait
wi mor'n a few folks a gippy

loose tha's snap as M'pessons well
n tek sum brass from t'watter

na its nowt but a mickle midden
but them folks as a good un, narry a one of 'em flit

tek thasen a gander
but the's nowt in Eyam save 'plague







Translation
It is bad in the village
with more than a few people sick

Leave your food at Mompessons Well
and take some money from the water

Now it's nothing but a big mess
But the villagers are good people, not any one of them has left

Take yourself a look
but there is nothing in Eyam except the Plague



History
The village of Eyam in Derbyshire was hit by the plague at the same time as London (1665), 
the villagers self imposed a quarantine to prevent the disease spreading any further, the 
surrounding villages left food at a well near Eyam, in exchange for money which had been 
left in the vinegar filled well to clean it.



For "Sista's Bloody Sista's" contest run by Deborah Guzzi
Honorable Mention


Details | Ballad | |

BESIDE EVERY GREAT WARRIOR OF OLD

Men were given total dominion
over all living things, and when
they subdued their enemy:
they were granted immortality!

Beside every great warrior of old, 
there was a strong woman of humility,
who gave him a victorious  sword;
and helped him change the course of history! 

Emperess Theodora was one of them to show adversity;
when Noka's revolt broke out:  she decided to stay,
while her hushand, Justinian, fled the city;
what an admirable act of feminity!

Beside every great warrior of old,
there seems to be a look of invincibility,
a defying moment to obtain glory;
and the cost for a golden crown is well-known!

Be the warrior of modern times, treatened by fear and fragility, 
seek out the man you were destined to be;
trust that woman who posseses internal beauty,
and beside this warrior, her courage will guide you with dignity!


Details | Free verse | |

The Ancient Maya game of tut of tut

The ancient Maya had a game
They called Tut to Tut
A game like soccer
but the ball but the ball
would be passed by the thigh
and not the foot.

They played with a latex rubber ball
that some claim contained a human skull
But what ever you think about the game
it was never dull.

Two teams would play before a temple
On a strip of green
the object of the game
to pass the ball through a hoop made of stone
the Winners were victorious
but for the losers
it wasn't so nice
because they'd chop their heads of
and make them a sacrifice.


Glad I wasn't a coach
beats soccer any day.

''Any one for a game of Tut to Tut''?


Don't all shout at once.



Peter Dome.copyright.2013.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Valentine's Massacre

Valentine's Day – 1349. Not a tale of Love, but one of a reprobated mind. Nazis were not the first to indulge in Jewish executions - So did the Pharaoh as Strasbourg's Black Death Persecutions!


Details | Clerihew | |

My constant mirror

My constant mirror from heaven, 
On earth and in the sea,
Only you can be;
But can you see yourself in my poetry? 


Details | Haiku | |

Hurricanes

Nature’s wrath supreme
Tearing down humanity
Human grace denied


Details | Senryu | |

Memorial Day

worn headstone place a flag in honor memorial day


Details | Rhyme | |

A Halloween Scene

Close your windows; draw the blinds as day turns into night
Shut your door and wrap up warm with a bedside table light

Close your eyes and try to sleep but also stay aware
As what may happen in the night could seem like a nightmare

You'll start to hear the sounds of souls, moaning cries and screams
You sneak a peek around yourself but nothing is as it seems

From the ceiling drip by drip and down the walls it flows
Pools of blood soaked in the rug to ooze between your toes

Ghastly ghouls and grimacing ghosts trapped within their doom
Creep and crawl under your bed and float around your room

They'll slide over your covers and slither in-between
As they wriggle to whisper in your ear...

Have a happy Hallowe'en!!!


Details | Rhyme | |

A Cry For Help

During the devestation of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, Louisiana. Haunting memories 
of a nightmare that will never be forgotten.



All through this great nation,
screaming voices of isolation,
echoing cries of the weak,
along the crossroads of smothering August heat.
No dignity as death unfolds,
wing whipped city, a sinking bowl.
Just for the record and made to be known,
slow to respond to my drowning soul,
with hope for life in a sinking bowl.
The last breath taken with misery,
and just for the record, history.


Details | Elegy | |

My Kashmir Burns (Part 1)

I picture Kashmir through lightened KL. News of another massacre darkens my eyes
Winds are thirsty there. They continue to taste the young blood.
I groom myself with exquisite things,
Sipping ice tea in ac room, I comfort myself
And Kashmir burns. Kashmir set ablaze

I can smell the warm blood of beaten corpse
Where from winds bought this smell. Somewhere Karbala reborn.
Mosques are being slammed
There windows stoned. And the black boots leave their footprints on Mimber
Even God judges on evidence
There is one Imaam left now; he hides her daughters in his shadow
A blunt knife in his hands; soon he will sacrifice them to keep their innocence
Kashmir is burning. Kashmir is bleeding
And I write.

Army jeep chases the tracks. To find the associated bodies
They are alive now. Soon they will be dead
From Patan to Sopor, And in narrow passages of nostalgic downtown
Ghosts of curfew
Haunt the houses for young souls.

From the Kupwara cantonments, search lights chase emptiness
Nothing is left now. Search lights can’t see inside the graves
A boy there went missing for two days. His father starts digging his grave.
I put my earphones on and I close my eyes. I sleep
While my Kashmir is ablaze
“It’s me poor farmer’s son. Kupwara’s charm, I feel no pain”.
I see him so alive in my dreams.
He chants songs of Mahjoor from his burnt lips. My hands shiver. He has no finger nails.
I see his smoke tanned skin. Same as that of Khayam’s barbeques
He stands at a distance from me. I can still smell kerosene
“Tell my mother to let her heart become cold. Her heart will not bear my state.
Tell my mother to let her eyes become blind. Her eyes will not withstand my sight.”
I follow him towards his tortured body. He tells me to follow the spilled blood.
His blood has made its own Jhelum. I row on it. Until it gets lost in black boots
The story will turn into legend. I find his body no more.

On the streets silence prevails. Nobody has permission to wail.
Sisters are beatifying coffins while brothers look for stones.
For bullets there will be stones
Kashmir is ablaze. She is wailing in grotesque tones.
In Lal Ded hospital a new born cries: Father register me at cantonment then take me out
Death is recruiting in dozens at a time.
Tomorrow is curfew. Death has no curfew pass.
How they want to identity you. Becomes your identity
People burn up all you identity cards.


Details | Haiku | |

Frozen in Time

shipwreck victims whisper from the ocean floor frozen in time
*contemporary haiku (lacks nature subject or season word) is inspired by the 100 year anniversary of the Titanic sinking By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, March 22, 2012 for Haiku from the Heart contest (Sidney LeeAnn)


Details | Haiku | |

Life Of Death

Death is now Alive
Kid Conceived Deceased
A rebel of life


Details | Free verse | |

STONE HEDGE

Hear across my native soil,
The calling, 
Echoes ancient voices,
Raised in prayers ritual.
A forgotten people, leaving,
Their mark upon histories
Legacy.
Mysteries great questioning,
Lain outward for generations,
To wonder why?
Beneath the heavens vastness,
Behold gray monoliths reaching,
Upward.
In the circle of life and death,
As a continuing sphere ever,
Winding within it's self.
A seasonal calendar timed by,
Natures rhythm.
An inner heartbeat, pulsating,
From the earths core.  
Springs awakening warming
Breath,
Or winters chilling hand of death.
To plaint and harvest, or lay at rest,
The tools of trade.
The beasts of burden are released
From heavy yokes harness.
Pagan Gods demand tributes sacrifice,
Lain upon the sacred altars fire.
Druid priests carrying wisdom's staff,
Praying for enlightenment’s spiritual guidance. 
Sung in Gallic tongue, they chant.
Asking for natures bounty,
A good years passing and 
Healings curing power. 
An ancient religion seeking,
Answers to humanities quest to know.
Lost to times relentless pass,
Our ancestral heritage is remembered,
I'm myths and legends,
Mystical circle of stone,
Known as Stone Hedge.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN














Details | Epic | |

King Leonidas 300 And Counting

          King Leonidas 300 and Counting

It was 480 BC
King Leonidas with 300 Spartan warriors held Thermopylae Pass
Fought against the vast immortals horde of Persian forces
Lasted and endured the Xerxes army
3 days with 4,000 allied strong for Greece 
Resisting the first 2 days in mighty battle
With only 1500 strong 
The third and final day belonged to Xerxes
Leonidas lost 299 of his men to battle
His allies also perished 
In the Persian wave of death that day
                  The Gate Awaits
Derivatives of angled forces bent on destiny
Armored warriors spears and shields in hand
In V shape lined to face the demon foe
With swords extended confront a morbid horde
Certain death to follow
They stream upon their vile inhumanity
Through history and to this very mortal day
Nourished ground with noble blood
To spring our civilization forth  
That which flows through time forever in our veins
For freedom…. never sleeps…but pulses toward the light
That final perfect design which defines us
They are the souls of history
300 marched and died there in the sands
Xerxes in his promise to erase all memories of Greece’s fame 
To destroy all poetry and poets (for that alone he should die)
Now sleeps, the demon that he is, forever
In an unknown grave
And even I cannot pronounce or spell his name   




Details | Acrostic | |

Twin Towers

T wo buildings once stood tall
W hen one day they would fall.
I n the sky the planes flew
N ot knowing what they'd do.

T oo many people died
O n that day we all cried.
W hat happened no one knew
E xtreme anger just grew.
R emembering the fear
S o keep your families near.


Details | Free verse | |

Phoenix immortal

Mass of red and gold plumage
blood of supreme incessant immortality flows within
Only I alone can reign stronger
a fortiori
than the army of any man or beast
Symbolic of Christ, ressurection, afterlife
In death redeemed
consumed by fire
only to be born again of ashes
I will rise up again!

Injured from mortals wars 
I simply ameliorate and regenerate
I am fire and divinty
Continually watching the irresolute
ever changing, dynamic world around me
In despair I scrutinize and contemplate 
as all things moral 
are taken from me periodically and adinfinitum
lost ever and again

Armys of mortals have chased my blood for an age
in want of my immortality
Whilst they wrangle with continual want
and I would content for less
I have met no immortal contender
my glorification to you either unobtainable 
or a terrible curse
As a deity I serve this planet in all my supremacy
for I will foresee you all




Authors note

This piece was originally written as a two part collaborative effort with poet Kathleen C. 
Mannon, otherwise known by pen name kkatie55 . The prompt we were given to write to for 
contest was Mortal vs. Immortal in September of 2007, a month after I first started writing I 
believe. To begin with we both took our ideas and wrote individually then bringing our ideas 
together and changing slightly to fit from there… I tried to write so this would stand alone 
too, and have only just decided to bring it out to share for opinion. To see the write with the 
omitted verses written by the other poet, please feel free to go view at this link where each 
poet has initialled over their respective stanzas/verses. 
http://allpoetry.com/poem/3404940
Thankyou for your trouble in reading this explanation, but I do not wish to discredit its 
original intention nor take anything away from the other poet by placing this half here. I 
hope you shall be excited about reading it in full…


Details | Verse | |

Armageddon Pt 1

It's bout to get worse
It was written in the verse
The truth hurts
ARMAGEDDON WILL NOT BE TELEVISED

When the time comes
No one's gonna hold up a sign
saying it's time to "get right"
It's gone come like a thief in the night!
Blowin' up and wreckin ish!
The war you want is the war you gone get
It was written before our time
We keep looking at the signs
manifest before our very eyes
constantly denying our right
to be one of the meek ones of our time
ARMAGEDDEON WILL NOT BE TELEVISED

We're at the end of what used to be existence
Every super power will answer to a higher power 
so pray repentence
The time is closer than any distance
From Washington to Obama
No one will escape the wrath!
Hope you choose the right path!
Narrow is the gate of the righteous tracks
that are imprented on the mind of the omnipotent one
Will you be spared life on earth with the meek ones
and accurately take in knowledge of his son?
OR will you perish in the dust
never to be awakened again?
No consciousness of sin
ARMAGEDDON WILL NOT BE TELEVISED!

It's in the verses
Read it, see it, live it, rehearse it
You see the times changing
You see the minds fading
You see the world and how messed up it is
You see that nigga satan and his curses!
I pray to have a chance to live a beautiful paradise on earth like it say in the verses!
ARMAGEDDON WILL NOT BE TELEVISED

YOU HAVE OFFICIALLY BEEN WARNED


Details | Rhyme | |

The Meadow

I see a meadow,
Simple and plain,
But it speaks to me,
And it speaks of the fallen men, 
And all its seen slain.

Flowers bloom at its edge,
Seems  of a comforting place,
But it spoke to me,
It spoke of the war,
Man to man, race to race,
From its edges to beyond the ever far.

Only green, green grass,
But I can see it now,
Red blood upon the field,
And the courage the men must wield.

I can hear the shouts,
From the broken meadow,
From all it has seen,
It shall never forget,
What it must clean.

Blood soaked meadow,
Bodies beneath the earth,
Where war was once fought,
Is now a place of mirth.

No one knows,
Only the meadow and I,
Of the many horrid things,
That took place that day.

I look below me, 
And grieve,
For the fallen and dead,
As the tears beckon my sleeve.

The meadow,
As lonely as it may seem,
And the beauty it now holds,
We know the truth,
So I sit, and never move,
As the rest of its story unfolds.

I can see it all,
I shall never forget.

One day, 
Another shall pass,
To see a meadow,
Simple and plain,
And I will rise,
To tell them of those who had been slain.


Details | I do not know? | |

I still miss you

Visions stolen,
Heart beat raised
You still touch me,
In the castle in the air

I don’t want to miss you,
Truth is, I still do
The smile, those eyes,
I still miss you..

The path has forked
The world has split
Memories tainted,
I still miss you

I yearn for a rendezvous
To reminisce the cold touch
The twinkle, the chuckle,
I still miss you

Cries of laughter,
Strength of bond,
The waiting seconds,
I still miss you

Time does not reverse
The road unveils beautifully
But, some are unforgettable
And, I, still miss you…


Details | Shape | |

Uncle Sam's Hokey Pokey -- shaped as his top hat

                                  


Uncle Sam's Hokey Pokey
                                 _______________________                                                
                                     l      l      l       l        l 
                                     ya' put your red flag in
                                                  ya'
                                      put your red flag out
                                                  ya'
                                       put your red flag in
                                               and ya'
                                       shake it all around.
                                       *           *          *
                                  ya' stop this hocus pocus
                              and we'll turn this thing around
                                end war's what it's all about!


Details | Epic | |

Introduction

hello my friend, stranger walk by,
borrow a moment, spare me your lie,
through pen of the narrow and mist of an eye,
below absolute zero, someone will die;
sentence to rambler, apple hereby,
flute of the meadow, mandrake will cry,
in front of the riddler second might try,
get out of here mortal,
exit near by-e.

angry as he strike out his pen,
get out of here demon, get out of this den,
in thousands of years how long has it been,
when scriptures wear sandals;
on meadow you land, many bear seasons,
stakes shall bend, lantern still burning,
your letter is send.


Details | Lyric | |

UNFOLD

The pain of change as it unfolds
Is oft a tale that stays untold
What is seen is a whole creature
not deep holes in the feature
nor concrete soles that makes his feet hurt

It all begins with a soft kiss
He is walking with a false bliss
Only following in paw prints
But the nature of mom's lips
Is to rob him of all innocence

Trapped in warm spindles of fear
A wrapped life form kindles in here
Four years bound to shingles of moss
Time to leave this life of sloths
Break free like that of a moth
and Rise again like Christ on the cross


Details | Tyburn | |

The Taunting Tree

Timing
Rhyming
Chiming
Scorning
For whom bell tolls timing rhyming ode
Filthy sport chiming scorning the road


Details | Quatrain | |

Gone But Not Forgotten

I remember it now
Not all, but enough
To understand how
I am afraid to accept love

Because some love hurts
Especially the kind you gave
The kind nobody deserves
The kind that plants the seed of hate

It matters little if you feel remorse
Your guilt could never ease my pain
The damage you did cannot be reversed
I still wear the residue of shame

And you will never have my forgiveness
My hatred will be your only companion
As you lie upon your deathbed
Feeling frightened and abandoned

You still won't even have my pity
Pathetic as you are
All you will ever be is what you did to me
As I will always bear these ugly scars


Details | Terza Rima | |

A teacher above all else

A clear view of the Arabian blue
I don’t ‘inch’ closer, I ‘mile’ ahead 
In a relaxed cockpit, shared by two.

A proud teacher, my knowledge I spread
‘To fly they must have flown before’
Break this infinite loop; I choose instead 

Let them learn, I don’t keep score.
Even if mistakes are made;
To make them like me, I will ignore.

The airstrip is small, a challenging glade.
Mangalore approaches, I flew from Dubai,
My fingers remain crossed, I am little afraid.

The plane crashes, sixty and hundred die.
I teach others rules. But rules - to me they don’t apply.


Based on the theme from the novel Airframe from Michael Crichton superimposed on the ill-
fated plane crash Air India Express Flight 812, on 22 May 2010. 




















Details | Quintain (English) | |

Battle Cry

We stand alone in the blackest night,
Awaiting the battle cry;
Lost and alone in this bloody fight
Never questioning or wondering why;
As I send a silent prayer to the sky...


Details | Lyric | |

For You And Me

It  was  for you and me ,
That Jesus left His throne,
Bore the scourge and agony,
Shivered His flesh and bone,

It was for you and me,
He took the awry tour,
Towards the dreaded Calvary,
Summed His tortured  hours,

It was for you and me,
That Jesus bore the cross,
Paid the greatest penalty,
That death supposed be ours,

It was for you and me,
He wailed the gloomiest cry,
It was for you and me,
Jesus was nailed to die,

Oh, that you and I may see,
Our wickedness beyond measure,
Jesus to set us free,
In our stead bore the torture,

His love mysterious great,
Knocks  the door of all men's heart,
His mighty power recreates,
Renews our lives whole to restart,

It was for you and me,
When on the third day death sufficed,
The savior left His grave,
Victorious he arised,

He rose back to His throne,
Sitting by His Father's side,
Prepare! He's coming soon,
Today is to decide,


Details | Choka | |

Gladiator Wins

Strong, gladiator,
Thine blade is sharp also swift.
Thou fight for honor, glory.
For thine, love of heart.
Back and forth thee thrusts are keen.
Ye stand so bravely with brass.
Await opponents.
Scarcely; they approach, knowing,
Their fate of death from thine sword,
Though they know, quickly,
Thy; shall place your victory.
Among the past forces, well,
Their souls shall raise high,
By next arenas battle,
Another blazes thine sword.

written for
Sponsor Amy Green 
Contest Name Choka for a Chokehold  


Details | Rhyme | |

August,25th,1971 - Part 2

The Flashes, YOUR About to See
Are Memories, of LENORE and Me

When I said :  “ I DO “, I meant “ I DO “
How Well I Know, YOU  Meant it “ TOO “

For , ALWAYS and FOREVER: “ MY WIFE “
For , ALWAYS and FOREVER: “ MY LIFE “

Dedicated, in LOVING Memory; To my Wife
  “ Lenore Ellen (Adams) JOHNSON “


Details | Free verse | |

compeling leather's

At what cost rags to riches splashing blind falling in trenches                                   
Cladding poor country king’s taking the life of the owner                                                   
Will they come for yours Clicking to social dictated schemes                                              
They march no more                                                                                          
They walk no more                                                                                              
They dance no more                                                                                          
Millions of shoes entreated better they where kept out of the weather                          
Maybe to be a S.S. belt, sheath or hat maybe a child will walk                                   
Unknowingly a mile in my shoes the Lord knows their destiny                                            
Like high leathery hills in store kept so many feet out of the weather                            
Carnivorous minds eat up my people for my rags they contemplate                              
They lie in wait if they would have asked I could have given                                        
Two miles to late the atrocity millions of leathers                                                     
They march no more                                                                                            
They walk no more                                                                                                 
They dance no more  
                                                                                                                      


Details | Elegy | |

Little Girl of Mary King's Close

A little girl so coy and sweet Used to wander in the street Her little dress and shawl she’d wear She’d skip and run without a care Her hair about her face would fly As wind blew clouds across the sky The sun would shine above the city Warm upon her face so pretty There with friends she’d sing a song A ring-of-roses all day long Her doll she’d carry everywhere Made by her mam who'd brought her there Where had she gone, where was she now; To give her comfort, to cool her brow? Lying there upon her stretcher Desperate for mam to come and fetch her With pustules oozing, a putrid stink In inky blackness her eyes would blink She waited for the sound of feet Perhaps dry, stale bread for her to eat Shoved below the heavy door On a plate, upon the floor But she’d become too weak to stand To get the food she’d need a hand Fear of illness, fear of death Fear of such a young ones breath Prevented them from coming in Barred her from seeing friend or kin Stuffy and close the room was small No one seemed to care at all Her doll they’d wrenched out of her arms And burned it to avail their qualms No traces of disease would spread Remaining sealed away instead She longed again the world to see, She lay there waiting patiently She thought for her they’d surely come Her father a merry tune would hum Drifting in and out of sleep No more tears of loneliness to weep Nothing but a feeble moan For she was left there all alone Below the new you’ll find a room Timeworn and hidden in the gloom It’s there you’ll feel her presence nigh It’s there she lay abandoned to die When you have to leave and go Quiet footsteps behind you tiptoe She follows you a little way She waits for you to turn and say, “Take my hand and come with me. Into the light… walk, be free.” But solitary and confined she’s made to stay As aeons pass and flit away Forsaken child of the distant past, I pray God frees your soul at last.


Details | Couplet | |

Fury of Fire

The S.E.A.T. planes look like Vultures as they circle over head,
Dropping tanks of slurry over glowing trees of red;

An orange blaze crests the mountain top, then swallows the valley below;
As the smoldering ash floats back to Earth, it almost looks like snow;

The roar of the fire is deafening as it engulfs the forests decay,
And the black smoke is so thick in the air, it takes our breath away;

The heat blisters paint on the dozers, trying to cut a break,
It burns with an unknown fury, til nothing is left in it's wake;

The fire has a mind of it's own, carrying a heart full of wrath,
Taking life after life, incinerating all in its path.


Details | Fibonacci | |

Ruthless Deceptions

Lies
told
to self.
In spite of 
one’s own inner voice
you deceive more than just one’s self.
Creating doubt in Ye making some become lost souls.
Always is the enemy on the hunt destroying life within creates in you sin


Details | Free verse | |

Loss of innocence

Houses lost, friends go away…
Then others I’ve never known…
Some areas worse, some less…
But all have seen the scar…

Empty homes with vacant eyes…
The bank will own the loan…
Won’t let lose their precious prize…
Until they’ve made a score…

A few will pass thru many hands…
Most will wait with time…
In the end we all lose…
With tears in our eyes…

The only winner any where…
Is the bank that still holds on…
There was really no doubt on this…
As the monster gobbles more…

As still so much is lost by all...


Details | Rubaiyat | |

Outside Of The Box

This is a tale for you regarding Pandora and the box.
Here we find an attempt to put back on the lock
A trip back to Alexandria in your mind we must go
Trying to protect but you can’t turn back the clock

What had tried to be sealed is not what one expect
Only wanting to keep others from trying to dissect
The library was vast holding knowledge long passed
Gallant was the attempt though evil did misdirect

Someone had already check out these 365 books
See the flames raised high the city did overcook
Spread them north and east so ordered the beast
Because at the Star he did not want you to look


Details | Narrative | |

NINE ELEVEN

It was another beautiful morning in the city , Workers  looking radiant as always
People  strolling , Cars horning as pedestrians throttled along the Zebra crossing
The subway was crowded with the smell of early morning rush and sweat
Little did they know that there was a shadow lurking behind the bright sun

The announcer’s voice towered over sound of luggage’s being dragged
Flight attendants smartly dressed hurried  towards the boarding gates
Passengers sat patiently at the lounge, awaiting the call of the day
How could they have known that today will change their very lives

Nineteen bearded men dressed in polo shirts scattered amidst the crowd
Each missing the silky feel of their long white robes and heavily woven turban
As they try to fit in with their newly bought Jeans and Sky blue snickers
They knew what was about to happen, their lives was fading as the clock ticked

People going about their work and children being dragged to school
It was the ninth hour of the Mane , The plane heading for a wrong land
Passengers struggled for their lives, calling their loved ones for the last time
They saw the rage lurking in their eyes, the clothing couldn’t hide the evil

A Woman standing in the office, talking to her fiancé on the phone
As she stared out the spotless white glass, she saw it heading her way
She couldn’t mutter a word as her fiancé called out on the other end
Not  a step could she take as the wall crashed on her, it was clearly too late

Buildings tumbling down the great heights, fire flying through the sky
Bodies rolling through the sky like the brutal fall of strong rain in spring
Oh what a sorry sight for a blind man, oh what a poison for the soul
Some watched with great tears, they could do nothing to save a life

Deadly cry of babies filled everywhere, smell of blood saturating  the air
Heads missing the body buried under the crumbs of the fallen bricks
Some puffing out the last breath in them, hanging on for the very last time
Thunders of sadness roared everywhere, Mourning voices everywhere

So many lives were lost along with Nineteen men who thought it as fate
Not a year passes that we do not weep, for the lost souls of this day
The brave hearts that left us , even at the face of death some struggled
They linger forever in our hearts, as their thoughts dwell within us.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Christ Child

In eternity past, the Father asks the Son to go down.
Having equal Love for humans the "Yes" comes fast.
When Creation leads to time, the world waits for 4 BC
Marking the start of the end of Satan's long rule at last.

Did Satan laugh at the poor setting for Jesus' birth here?
A cry in a cave for animals pierces the night, changing all.
Shepherds worship; later wise kings give precious gifts.
Mary and Joseph marvel, yet Herod's rage soon gives a call.

A call to leave quickly to Egypt where they'll live as refugees.
Sparing the Christ child a merciless death of those under three.
When Herod finally dies, Jesus' parents head back to Israel.
Still not fully safe from mad rule, Nazareth is their destiny.

Here the child will grow to be a man, following His parents rule.
Surprising the Pharisees with His wisdom at 12, at 30 riling them.
Preaching with authority, healing the incurable, loving the humble.
Women weep repenting at his feet; one's healed by touching his hem.

Zacchaeus risks going into a tree and finds Jesus' salvation so free.
Nicodemus comes at night to ask and ends amazed he's met God's Son
The Woman at the Well gets far more vital water than the usual kind.
And many healed can't but tell others of the miracle God has done.

The babe in the manger now stills the storm and his disciples believe
Even seeing the dead arise, like Lazarus in the tomb for four days.
Foretelling a greater rising coming but not before immense suffering.
The sword Mary was told would pierce her heart is soon on its way.

For most religious leaders cannot tolerate Jesus' lack of respect for them.
Calling them whitewashed tombs and pointing pride out to Pharisees.
Not endearing Himself with the establishment, but following God's way.
Knowing soon He'd be betrayed, arrested, tried and tortured brutally.

Still, he calmly feeds them body bread and blood wine in a final feast.
Tells them the Spirit comes, and prays they'd be one like Father and Son.
Heads to the Garden, prays to His Father for another way if possible.
Your will be done ends and the soldiers come and with Judas kiss it's done.

The most pure, innocent Man who's ever lived is now in hostile hands.
A trial by dark without witness or any rights – and off to Pontius Pilate.
Then Herod then back to Pilate whose wife dreamed Jesus was innocent.
But the people's cries to crucify win over – Jesus caught in intrigue's net.

The child of Bethlehem now hung on a Cross between two criminals.
The Light of the World by darkness and our sins is being slowly slain.
Feeling forsaken by God, but then "Into Your hands I commit my spirit."
Reunited and soon to show the world that this Child was no ordinary one.

Risen as Jesus predicted, for how can death conquer everlasting, perfect life?
From childhood to adult not one sin, not once yielding to Satan's temptations.
Proving we can have life eternal if we confess and believe in Jesus as our Savior.
Calling His followers in risen form to await the Spirit and share Christ to the nations


Details | Imagism | |

Embrace

They ride the good dragon-cloud towards warm light
While wistful wind was a wrongdoer on the hollow hill
Wrapped woven from the wounds and wrath`s night, 
The wood will wear white woolly witness of the windmill.

Hoarfrost hitch-hikes and hoists with hoarse hood,
Drumming beat of hobble of the army`s fatal feet,
Far away from the glow-worms of their childhood;
Friends fumble the glassware where they might meet.

Falteringly frogs of fancy jump towards the lake’s glass; 
Orphan souls sit on the steps of hope in winter`s time
They scrutinize the frozen sky of hope to find the rhyme 
Of the verse from the other side they want to happily pass.


Details | Limerick | |

Thus, Fate Avengeth

Henry VIII desireth an heir.
Wife after wife, nary son hath wives bourne.
Thusly, he cut off each head.
Findeth a new wife instead.
His sole son hath been born from an affair.


Details | ABC | |

JAMESTOWN 1607=They ate their horses, dogs, cats and rats

JAMESTOWN
1607 



Four hundred years ago high-born Brits sailed to America
Seeking fast fortunes, adventure and fame.
Many would never endure their first year here
Cultivating, foraging, and hunting game.

Arriving in Virginia they came ill-prepared
In search of gold and a route to the South Seas
What they found were hostile Indians,
Insects, starvation, and disease.

“Virginia is Earth’s only Paradise!”
The laureate of England would proclaim!”
However by August of 1607,
Every day there was anguish, and pain.

They ate their horses, dogs, cats and rats
One man ate his wife and hid her bones in the ground.
Despite their hardships, half managed to survive 
Becoming America’s first permanent, English town .




Details | Monorhyme | |

No One Told Me

No One Told Me
A cement block is tied to my heart
Need a running start
At night my voice carries like a lark
Death’s arrow has hit its mark
My life is so dark
The side of the ocean is full of sharks
Some days I feel like such a tart
I used to be such a sweetheart
No one told me life would be so hard.


Details | Free verse | |

Tactics

in a rut
no, a trench.
pulled under like Ypres or Verdun
walls held up by bodies of dearly departed.
we gather here today because we have to.
so chew the dirt from fingernails, 
swim this mud sea.
six feet.
draped flags,
bedsheets, tablecloth rags
set the places.
mines flower on this grave.


Details | Free verse | |

The Day Our World Changed

I lay in bed last night thinking of 
 everything and nothing, as I often do.
  For some reason or maybe for no reason,
    I thought of playing on my slip-and-slide 
     when I was a little girl.
In Florida, summer lasts from April until October.
We were always looking for ways to cool off.
That memory led to another and another. 
I remembered our neighborhood.
It came to life everyday with the sound of children's laughter.
Now, I often sit by my window hearing the silence of children 
indoors playing video games. Safe behind locked doors.
Occasionally, the birds come out to play 
or I hear a bull frog croak.
Squirrels run across our fence line searching for places to hide their treasures.
(The neighbor leaves out peanuts for them. The squirrels appreciate the gesture.)   
When I was a little girl, I caught grasshoppers and lizards, but not frogs. 
I didn't like frogs. 
I thought of my succession of childhood bicycles.
I felt free as I zigzagged through the street
riding with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.
I haven't felt that free in a long time.
In those days, I never felt lonely.
I could always find a friend to share a secret with 
right outside my door.  
Our parents never thought they would send us outside to play
and never see us again. 
The neighborhood was our playground.
Until the day a young boy disappeared from a shopping mall
only ten miles from my childhood home. 
He was kidnapped, killed and decapitated.
I was eleven years old. Our world changed.  
On my playground, shadows lurked and everyone was a stranger. 
I cried when I saw the picture of the little boy 
with the baseball cap and toothless grin. 
My brother was the same age as that little boy. He had nightmares for a while.
I was eleven years old. Our world changed.   


By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
for Debbie Guzzi's Fear contest
Second place finish


Details | Rhyme | |

What Easter Means To Me

~What Easter Means To me~ Passover is here once again Nisan fourteenth, but what do we gain Some have chocolate eggs, that's what they wait for. But what does it mean this date we adore. It is now called Easter, in our modern times But what is the story behind this old crime The death of Jesus although long ago foretold Was not to give eggs and bunnies to hold. The death of Jesus was to wipe out our sins The resurrection was to show a new way begins On the third day when Jesus arose The women were aghast that the tomb was not closed Two men in flashing clothes stood close on by The women were frightened and did not look high Why are you looking for the living amongst the dead? Jesus is not here, he is raised up instead. Jesus died a man, the prophecy now fulfilled But was raised as a King by his father, his heavenly Kingdom to build. He gave his life to fulfill the prophecy and pay the ransom price Right down to his coat being cast lots over with dice. He died to give us all a chance to live So think about this more when chocolate eggs you do give.
By Mandy Tams~GG~


Details | Rhyme | |

From a Heather Laden Hill

From a heather laden hill
A Scots king looks down
The march of his armies
In their blood, his enemy drown

His tartan clad warriors
The joining of the clans
MacDonald's, Fraser's and Stuarts
To every single man

With their claymores at the ready
Across the fields they charge
Five thousand Braveheart clansman
Patriotic hearts so large

They will never take our freedom
They will never take our lands
While a Scotsman breathes
We will fight with our bare hands
 
They charge into their enemy
Bloodied fallen, strewn
As blood rains everywhere
Wars red monsoon

Many hours later
The sounds of dying men
Boys among the still
Thought their time was then

On his heather laden hill
Our Scots king looks down
The march of his armies
Have cut our enemy down

We have driven them from our lands
They will never darken our shores
For if they ever return
They will fear the Bravehearts roar




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland.php


Details | Rhyme | |

Dreams Lost

The promise of a brand new world and freedom at my feet. A chance to breathe the city air and walk its concrete street. My ticket was to turn my dreams into reality. Now my fortunes float inside a dark and icy sea. My dreams of finding happiness and wealth in a new place. Illusions in my waking hours had caused my heart to race. Stories of adventures told by others filled my head. How could I know the impending tragedy and dread? The thrill I felt upon the sight of iron and of steel. Painted and adorned, it was so beautiful and real. Although my third-class ticket for the bottom of the ship. I didn’t care as long as I was there to make the trip. Now my limbs are numb and I can barely see the stars. The sound of music fading from the sadness of guitars. The desperate voices crying out in terror and emotion. Are slowly disappearing in this vast and lonely ocean.
Written for Dreamweaver's contest 'My heart will go on and on'


Details | Haiku | |

Modern Tyrants

Political Games
Played over the dying
Trophy of decay.


Details | I do not know? | |

My Lai Masscre

I, mister, I'm 
Alive, alive.
...Alive.

Cut my limbs off
Let me bleed,
Bleed.. Bleed,
Bleed the pain.
Out.

My... My Lai Masscre,
Cut my limbs off,
Screw me senseless 
screw me dead.

My Lai Masscre.
I'm alive.
My..
Lai Masscre.

March 16th 1968
Vietnam.


Details | Couplet | |

Shadows of Crazy Horse- Tashunka Witco

my horse runs freely wild                                                                                            my curls run like a river's child                                                                                   into mad battle run arror spear gun                                                                               through his shirt blood did not run                                                                             until they came for the Gold hills                                                                                    to run his horse once more freely to fulfill                                                                       as by his own blood his runs betrayed                                                                             a spirit quenched by a greedy stave


Details | Rhyme | |

Assassination!!

Assassinated! Four of our presidents died,
A killer's shot and our people cried,
The killers were caught and paid for their crimes,
Two were shot, the others did their time.

Attempts on the lives of seven more
Made guarding the president a dangerous chore,
The Secret Service took over in 1901,
But to guard the president they had to have guns.

To bad our presidents have to think of dying,
They should be focusing everything on supplying
Our country's people with the best Life they can give,
Instead of wondering, if after their term, they will still live.

To end this very sad but true story,
I don't think our presidents worry,
The g-men do a wonderful service
So the president doesn't have to be nervous.


Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

Just Desserts

With very great pride
Haman stood high
Wants power....
Hatred
Rules


Details | Bio | |

The Man Behind the Mirror

Behind the mirror, the man is seen Where on our streets surrounded, Friends Thousands met cold, untimely death With screamed echoes of souls unrest Bullets flied, guns blasted ceaselessly Children dead in their mothers’ arms Father, for his lost son searched Found him only, with parts cut in shreds. Behind the mirror, was the man there? Our Young children, to soldiers turned Educated only in field of war Guns carried, bigger than they can bear Faught battles, of no cause but fear To read or write, they dared not do But to shoot or kill, well informed they were. The man behind the mirror, how did he rest? Our babies, dead while he sound slept In his glorious, paradise mirror he kept Still offered nothing, but violence more Promised, inflicted upon innocents, murder If anyone dared open their mouths to speak Or, if orders came of his seat to render. Behind that mirror, my freedom he took Our homes Burned; our stores looted Citizens, chased out of a land to love Forced into exile for years so many Adapted to a culture so not ours From scratch, we started to build Until bit by bit, we rose so high above Like an eagle, up up and away. The man behind the mirror, for him I always blame The color so dark, on our backs stained Bruises so deep, forever left to heal Visions of his bloody watch, repeatedly, us plagued Flashbacks of dear ones loved, Snatched, And palmed away by cruel, hateful death With tumbled bodies over bodies All soiled up into one tiny hole. Behind that mirror, the man will always be With blissful look in his red, budging eyes Wishing evil gleefully, with a dark smile His laughter,joy, through my anguish I see My heart beats fast, like a thunder sound And the more my hate for him increase Oh how I wish, that mirror came crashing down Then, a taste of his own medicine, he shall get


Details | Sonnet | |

BLOOD OF GERONIMO

    BLOOD OF GERONIMO
Great Spirit here come I in humble prayer
child of your Bedonkohe blood and line.
I raise my hands to recognize you there
and plea you recognize this heart of mine.

I know you welcome all into your light
And let my way, as through this death I go, 
Be swift and sure, if bad or good or right
As certain as blood of Geronimo.

Look! Is my line not tied to what's his past?
And does this not bring us our only choice
To bide amongst the tribe from out our past?
To gather in your light, and raise one voice

Of this, our song, our voices unified
And handed down through time, where we have cried.
...............© Ron Wilson
Another very special Sonnet that just wrote itself through me...where do they come from? And how?


Details | Chant Royal | |

PI - Inspired by the movie

THREE year olds know about circles. They play
ring around the rosy and here we go round
the mulberry bush. And if one should say 
that in reality nowhere is found
a perfect circle, they either don’t hear
or won’t buy it.  Yet.  Another year
or so they’ll eat the awful truth and then
conventional wisdom will slip right in
to its proper place and babyish why
will give way to unexamined lives. Sin
preached from pulpits at preschool shrouds PI.

POINT to the red stop circle. Here’s the way
to walk safely: keep one foot on the ground
at all times.  Slowly and steadily. Stay
between the lines and never let the sound
of  critical thinking distract your ear
from the sound of my voice. I love you, dear.
Trust me to tell you what you need know when
you need to know it.  I tell you, I’ve been
granted credentials. Listen to me, I
pledge allegiances, comfort and even
wealth.  Conformity’s requirements stifle PI.

ONE damp March morn, buzzards circled the gray
expanse of four-laned wasteland where a hound
dog had foolishly chased a dove away
from any sign of obedience. Mound
after mound of petrified organs.  Clear
chords rang out. But the harsh grind of the gear
of  market driven semis hauling men
and their pimp wares of lies told by vermin
with disposable fantasies rolled by 
and outscreamed the prelude of peace. The end
justifies. Wall Street domesticates PI.

FOUR the fourth time, circle in ink to play
lucky numbers. Fortune cookies abound
with their scratch off oracles of big pay
and tight buns and white cuspids.  Wrap-around
leather skirts lust for more time and sincere
pleas for help get downsized. Year after year,
oblivious to the tipping of win
or lose scales to the right and left to grin
and bear it. Occasional urge to cry
‘til imbalance seems natural. If your skin
crawls take medicine. Addictions cloud PI.

ONE nation under God circles to sway
one lord one faith one baptism?   Joshua downed
Jericho and Truman blessed Enola Gay
to drop her horrid load  Does it astound
anyone anymore?  Or has the fear
of death obscured sacred tidings of cheer 
and replaced them with slick prayers to low men
in high places?   Hallelujahs in thin
screechy voices.  Who will dare to ask why?
Blind patriotism and religion
unsupported by spirit torture PI.

AND SO ON TO INFINITY. Again
and again and again.  There’s never been
an end or even a pattern.  We fly
around in circles, unaware. But when
we wake, we will come face to face with PI.

~~~~~~~~~~

the capitalized first words in each stanza when taken together are pi


Details | Acrostic | |

Admiral Cardula VI

A legend that has been used and abused so much,
Deals with the undead, blood drinkers as such,
Many stories from all over the globe are told.
I have seen every movie, ever made and sold.
Real Vampires exist of this I am so very sure.
An evil form, well maybe, and without a cure.
Legends all begin with some sort of partial truth.

Can anyone definitely be sure there are no such things?
Ages have past and we still find new creatures on earth.
Realistically I cannot believe all the tales that clings.
Dracula the most famous Vampire for all it is worth.
Unites all the lore, that humankind has believed.
Listening and embellishing, has been what perceived.
A soul taken, by another has to be evil, they all sleuthed.

Victims of such a violent death are bound to be evil.
I would expect more from today’s world, less medieval.


written as an anagram for 
Vladimir Dracula


Details | Free verse | |

In the army now

Scents imminent
Sense immense
Of razor slashes self induced
Tying
Trying to turn the tides
Slip knots in ropes become the noose
The nuisance
The new sense of truth
While crying
Drying eyes profuse
As blood and sweat hide underlying
Dying
Flying on wings to roots
Of camps and boots in pastures muddy
Stained
Trained to follow trails
Of paper money
And to pray for each offence
That leaves the plains
Bloody
With revenge
On fallen buddies
As the sentiments
And the means of friends
Slain
Ties the senseless ends
With pain


Details | Rhyme | |

The General's Speech

A young man watched open-mouthed, As he listened to the general's speech. Who spoke of pinnacles of bravery, That only a fearless man could reach. The young man was given a uniform, And a rifle placed into his hand. He proudly stood on the ship's deck, As it sailed to a foreign land. Lying in a trench covered in mud, He waited anxiously for the call. Thinking about going over the top, Where he would see the enemy fall. At last the captain gave the order, ‘Righto chaps do your best.’ The young man ran but 20 yards, Heedless of shells hitting his chest. His memories spilled onto the ground, Where his comrades were not far behind. They trampled his short life underfoot, Lost in the earth never to be found. The young man was laid beneath the grass, Where he used to run and play. On his old school's roll of honour board, Was added another young man’s name. A young man watched open-mouthed, As he listened to the general's speech.


Details | Couplet | |

Evolution of the Ankh

In the ancient Egyptian culture
The Ankh represented life’s adventure

Crux ansata - Latin translation
Cross with a handle, strong foundation

When Roman Emperor Constantine
Envisioned his death in a dream scene

He adapted the symbol’s meaning
To reflect violence intervening

With a warrior’s death -- sword and spear 
Evoking in non-Christians supreme fear

Today the Ankh remains a symbol
Sacredly identifiable

With the power of Christian belief
All handed down from Sanskrit relief

I see the cross and eternal circle
As faith's evolution -- God's miracle


Details | Couplet | |

Hieroglyphs unknown by Champollion

Kids are playing with strange blue graffiti
So, they wrote several times: ”Neffertiti” …

And drew the most beautiful queen`s head.
The whole history of Egypt written in red, 

With sacred hieroglyphs unknown by Champollion:
The Pharaons` destiny dandles a dewy dandelion…


Details | Narrative | |

The Indian Ocean Tsunami

My heart cries for thousands and thousands of people
those who perished in the earthquake-spawned waves;
known as tsunami, the worst natural disaster
that caused tons and tons of deaths across Asian countries.

It’s a great tragedy, a giant blow to humanity,
with its repercussions to all spheres of life –
a wake-up call, an immediate response
that needs to be attended to and done forthwith.

Global mourning takes its course in every nation,
particularly in these countries of Asia where –
Indonesia, Thailand, Sri Lanka are faced with difficulties;
in coping with destructions, tragedies, and other commotions
indeed, an urgent call that needs an international attention.

In four decades this catastrophe has ceased its wrath,
but after that starts another episode, so terrifying
that people who are caught up in that mere situation
can solemnly declare and profess their fears.

Oh, Mother Nature! at times we don’t know
your reactions that cause pandemonium,
tragedy, destruction, sorrow, and pain to all
like this one, a very strong and powerful disaster.

However, across the world, people show their compassion
with their unwavering generosity that floods in all levels
it’s an illustration that we’re humans with caring behaviors
to all those who’re afflicted and severely hit by this phenomenon.

I can’t imagine how the world mobilizes and responds
showing their love and concern to these people in pain
loss of lives, heart brokenness, and other misfortunes;
these generate an answer to be mindful of them in many ways.

I see the unprecedented generosity that rolls in every land,
institutions and other organizations make a collaboration
in what is conceived and put into action: fund raising,
charity, and pledges of thousands of donors.

Horrific media images shown in television channels,
are remarkable pointers for reflection and yet an invitation;
for someone who needs conversion and a return to church call,
that life can be as quick as those giant waves that killed many people.

It’s a theological reflection which embraces human sufferings,
Like a pathway to profound invocation, faith and trust in Him;
Oh God, our source of strength and goal to fulfill this portion
Where we unite ourselves to all those who’re in afflictions.


Details | Free verse | |

Widow's Peak

Her name is now a legend 
Before her name was feared
The lady Henrietta 
Lean close and lend an ear

They say her status started
One night long time ago
She found her husband cheating
With the girl she knew next door

Her mind did snap
Her heart grew cold
With a knife she stole their souls
Cut the beating heart away 
Ate flesh when cold

Within her veins flowed the blood
Of the one who done her wrong
Gave her everlasting life
Her age in death was old

But one small thing that should be said
About the spell she cast
That beauty would always be her guide
In death she looked her best

Word spread quickly through the town
Where Henrietta lived
About the spell she cast the night
Her husband committed sin

Women came to ask for help 
To change their husband’s ways
For they had also messed around
Now love for them had strayed

With each one she gave the spell
Steps to end their grief
Now in the town such beauty found
In women who’s husbands cheat

With new found beauty each started life
Fresh and young again
And if the man they loved did cheat
Revenge was sweet again


Many many years went by
And soon the town was gone
Towards the end all that was left
Were women who were scorned

But in woods outside the town
In a placed called Widow’s Peak
You find plots of all the ones
Whose death came from a cheat

So this story lives today 
If you doubt then ask around
For the one you love and share a life
Could be a widow from that town

All men beware all women ask
Before you start your cheating
In every city and every town
A Widow’s Peak is forming

Believe me if you will or not
In the end you’ll heed the warning
Just let the one you love find out
To Widow’s Peak you’re going


Details | Free verse | |

one man army of the appocalypse

2 million suicidal babies
the munchonsen of psychiatry
just pushed me over the edge
what do we say when we cross the border?
we're going to disneyland
what are we going to do when we get there
inform as many innocents what is about to happen

going to the only country
who has its digs in every war around the world
going to the only place that lies to earth
through a video box sitting in the corner to every family on earth
going to the place of plajerists and hacks
scouring the internet for good ideas
and we are going to destroy the lies of their doctors

poisoned adults
suicidal babies
with all the no brainers in existance
why is it you are the only country singing and dancing?
why are you soo proud of your happiness
but use hate speach you call comedy on every minority
no one on earth is allowed to be happy but you?

why would this many people be upset with your legacy
how nothing has changed
the internet investigation already underway
your internet fraud to destroy life after life
and become wealthy doing it
here's a vikaden to cover the stress that your a bad person
now lets laugth and dance
have group sex to make us feel better for the things we did

party on wayne, party on garth
the bottle picking homeless with nothing left to lose
the rag man who smells like gas
a cart full of glass
we dont need bombs to take you down
as your city burns from the ground
where you realise all the flat tires
something on the road 
the explosions of your vehicles
unable to provide aid
the investigation now under way

2 million guinea pig babies
we will come to enforce your right to your person
those doctors and lawyers
lieing cheating and stealing
im not going to lie
you will be murdered
and for this shiny new penny
the maffia and biker gangs have just been hired
have a good day

im not sorry to inform you
these people will get what they deserve
you have all the power
then blacklist me
and stop playing the victom
like you do at the karaoke bar

first i'll describe heaven
and there will be no victoms of that war
then we will describe our own hell
and you can die a martyr of earth's happy ending

your joke dressed in suicide
laughing, at the consequence of you not being a punchline
you know who you are and what youve been doing
the best suggestion of considering suicide
its a good idea, especially for you, trust me


Details | I do not know? | |

Good Morning, Apocalypse Now : A Tribute to a Vietnam Veteran

Untitled 5
(My Uncle: Good Morning, Apocalypse Now)

My uncle doesn't speak much
about Vietnam or the stuff
he witnessed when he 
was just a boy. See,
he likes to drive the back roads fast 
and honk at random cars that pass.
His friendly gestures always lead to how
he grew up compared to kids now. 

Jumping and racing trains on the tracks
became dodging bullets and carrying his buddy on his back.
The marshes and dirt valleys here
became the forests and trenches of the military frontier. 

Last year, my sister donned his jacket
a fatigued fatigue that hung in his closet. 
In color and memory darkened,
kept out of sight for fear it would harken
the PTSD he's stuggled to avoid. 

He saw his brothers, young like him
to Vietnam succumb
while on American soil
and he promised he would never speak,
for fear his stomach would coil, 
when remembering rice - a dish he no longer enjoys.
And there's no orange on his clothes to remind him of the agent that destroyed.

When he speaks a calm 
"Good morning", I wonder if he's thinking of Vietnam
or if he knows
that I admire his strength and 
bravery and how 
he continually fights against 
the "Apocalypse Now".


Details | Imagism | |

The sealed mountain

The grass like words in a poem, grew up on the hill,
With the pulsing season birds` bitter and honey thrill;
So green and yellow written in the sad memory:
Words on painted crosses of wood and ivory;
Blessed words on lips and clouds passing far away;
Grass grew around the shinning words of yesterday;
Grass and fluorescent flowers of our good night ,
And long echo of Narcissus calling the first light
From whose tender drops the world caught life,
And temptation of good got dim shadowy strife.
Words like moon reflected on the time`s waters
Brought the stratified Yorick`s smiles of our brothers;
It seems a wet moon with  broken troubled waters.
We sag and summon back the past Job`s heirs`hearth
To find the sealed mountain whose true faith is enough . 
 


Details | I do not know? | |

BOSOM BUDDIES--cont.

The drovers' hearts were beating fast
When our grueling drive was done.
They'd had their fill of dust and beans,
And the only thing they wanted now,
Was a long, hot bath, and some cow town fun.
                                       
They loaded up the holding pens
With bawling, longhorn beef,
Then spurred their horses into town,
To seek out recreation--
And give their lonely hearts relief.
                                      
Dark moods and headaches followed
A long and lusty night.
The cattle town was lifeless--
Billy Barnes was taut and mean,
And the Kansas sun was blazing bright.
                                      
The boys ducked into the general store
Out of the noon-day sun.
There, Billy saw his heart's desire--
Beneath the glass of the counter,
Lay a blued steel, Colt, handgun.
                                      
Against young Tom's wise counsel,
Billy laid his money down.
With the heavy Colt tucked beneath his belt,
And feeling nearly ten feet tall,
He stepped out on the streets of town.
                                       
That evening found the bosom friends
In a dimly lit saloon,
Where the cost of rot-gut whisky,
And painted good-time gals
Left them busted much too soon.
                                      
Out in the steaming, summer night,
On the cattle town's boardwalk,
Billy's mood was dark and somber--
While Tom McQueen, as usual,
Was full of fun and nonsense talk.
											
                  --continued...                                                


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heroshima

Heroshima
Can ewe balance out those two final hits against the lives saved those that would have 
continued WAR on Asian Soil those days of hell of hurting men caught by bullits and the 
bayonets? Can just two bombs blasting death be counted as salvation won for all those 
young boys girls old men women who died instantly in two Atomic Blasts over those two 
cities of Japan. Nagasaki Heroshima eye have seen the END of time the BOOKS of GOD are 
open when the Dead Arrive. Arise all sleepers in those Graves can GOD usher in those 
SOULS into new places now to stay is there a place for JAPAN in Jesus Heaven? For those of 
us who sinned and suffered radiation burns lost our skins and mortal coils gone some died 
just screaming out in pain all normal living gone perhaps no time to say your HOLY NAMME 
of Jesus. Can they live there inside your heaven is it still possible that you forgive them for 
once upon the time it came to me today that a Just and Perfect GOD adjudges perfectly 
those in suffering words can not describe no time to utter words of salve; but deeds looked 
at made right by YOU salvation won given now to all. Eventide has come today to those 
whom tomb decay whom die threw no fault of there own. Just hit twice dumped down on 
Killed with anguish very slow. A special place in heaven for all those special people of Japan. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Fear no more



                              
                                        When I see the eyes ...tear
                                    Of somebody I could never ...bear
                                        To forget about it and move on
                                      While others happy and ...cheered
                                           That principle in me is ...rare
                                     I have looked into the eyes of ...fear
                                      And made them tears...Who dare!!!
                                                 A good way to say:


                                                "An eye for an eye"


Details | Rictameter | |

DROWN'D in BLOOD

Cash! Boom!
planes maneuver'd
by cruel terrorists
dove-crash'd into the twin towers,
and made them crumble with people inside--
thus thousands of gallons of blood
was pour'd upon all those
sanguinary
Vampires!


Details | Blank verse | |

Situations

It's a complicated situation that I'm facing.
Between broken dreams and death planning conversations.
Constantly asking myself why I feel out of Gods hands into the arms of satin.
Praying for life after death but deep down questioning continuation.
I weary from all the back stabbing and sins and it mostly generates from my
family and friends.
Please lord tell me will this pain every end.
Can I ever walk with you and make Amen’s?
Cause only you can ever know where my soul really been.
The devils getting closer and he is coming in the forms of many men.
I hate to say it but I opened up the doors and let them in.
They pass me the weed and beer to through off my concentration.
Go to job interviews the next day say words but don't know the pronunciation.
By DNA have a father but mentally there is no relation.
It's sad to say it's darker by the day.
It took two buildings to fall before the nation united and prayed.
After the fact Mr. Bush send eighteen year old to Iraq to be living in their last days.
These are my situations





Details | Free verse | |

JACK THE RIPPER

The London fogs camouflage,
Conceals the gentlemen assassin,
Blending him in it's gray clock
Seamlessly, he walks along unnoticed
Unchecked.
Carefully choosing a mark, it dangles itself
Before him as raw meat in a butcher window.
Misfortune’s lost damsel presents 
A disgraceful example in her
Shabby clothes and broken English
Giving gentility manners no credit
To her own sex.
Hey love come here, I've got the cure,
For what ales ya.
The shadow man answers not?
In black gloves palm a silver
Coin lies, as pleasures payment.
Under dim lights dingy ambiance,
It falls unto the murky gutters street,
And is quickly snatched back.
Two figures move in sequences motion,
Into a darkened archway.
In the blackness of night let the dirty
Deed be done.
Metal's sharpened edge shimmers,
Crimson red it's a cheap price.
For a shy token for a misbegotten life.
As he relives his latest kill in his mind,
The devil's fiddle plays in eerie tune, 
A sweet lullaby of cautions awareness.
He lies waiting amongst you, desperation’s
Ladies of the evening.
Playful fellow is jack,  toying with
Human dolls. 
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, 
With silvers flash out comes
His knife so slick.
Rip, rip goes Jack the Ripper
Tick tock goes his pocket watch.
Beware to those whom dwell in
Histories bowels,
Searching for answers hidden
Deep within archival walls.
You may not like what you find their,
The beast known as
JACK THE RIPPER.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Details | Free verse | |

Bullets rain tears

Young and innocent they went to school
 Expecting to learn and play
 Never in anyones wildest of dreams
 Did we expect that day
 For a rain of tears to shell them
 From one lost deep to sin
 But heavenly hosts came down for them
 Releasing them from him
 The devil he did have his day
 But God in end dost win
 For noubt will be lost but these young lives
 Will not be gone in vain
 The laws of the land will change in ways
 For it must not happen again
 
Those who reign must stand on this
 Take stance and make a difference
 No one should be able to take a life
 With intent nor mindless innocence
 For even when with madmans mind
 You cannot be left to mingle
 How can you be able to walk in shop
 Purchase guns and not be liable
 Actions speak far louder than words
 And if we let just one slip through
 Without accounting for their sin
 It might well be me or you
 
For on anyone these bullets
 Might be named to fall upon
 So make a difference – make a change
 Add your name – petition
 The whole wide world mourns in shame
 An Amnesty is long past needed
 Write your letters – use your vote
 Act now while it is fresh
 And pray for the souls of all those lost
 That each by the Lord be blessed
 Also for those who’ve lived through this
 That they might find a way
 To find the strength and courage
 To step out further each day


Details | Free verse | |

lost love

If only you could see I still have feelings for you No matter if I show it Or not I will always care I can't stand not being with you You act as though I'm not to Be seen as a person to be Trusted with everything I may have screwed up But life is full of screw ups I know I shouldn't have acted out of anger I shouldn't have but My life, my love, and My heart Belong to you. I might never get it back But it belongs to You. I love you


Details | I do not know? | |

Angel in Hell

An Angel in Hell
is a light in the dark
who mourns for those who fell
those still with a mark

An Angel in Hell
is the sun in the rain
who releases us from this spell
who frees us from this pain

An Angel in Hell
is love amidst hate
who comes to where we dwell
and saves us from this fate

*Dedicated to those who fell in the Holocaust and those who survived*


Details | Sonnet | |

Soonn Deux

On the sands of time

How will his feet print on the sands of time?
The query he is so bothered to ask
Emirates, ere hit and run dashes his rhyme
And creates deep holes of vast pending task.

Will those little lights yet glow when he’s gone?
Or will they die off when he’s in that hole?
This, he meditates in his deepest lone,
Scribbles verse, should unexpected grips whole.

Placer orb was where he conceived this tongue;
Whence his momentary opt to torch the ground
Ere it will be too late to dong a gong-
Then the planet will guest still air of sound.

For the world abrupt visitors, he scribes
This anon writ, ere God sends His un-bribes.

©A.O, 4/3/2014.


Details | Rhyme | |

footle-ROMEO AND JULIET

Young hearts

found peace


Details | Free verse | |

Protect and Serve?

Unprovoked attacks
Death screams from the hearts of the innocent
A child's last breath
Lies in your arms
Raise your weapon
For the sickness f****ing your mind
Protect and serve?
F*** that, let's massacre them all
Let's burn and pillage 
This family's home and make them watch
Piss in this man's hands
And spit at his feet
Let bullets rain on his chest
So his children see
Protect and serve?
Intimidate and rape
They fear your "help"
And comply with tears in their eyes
And a gun to their temple
Dirt on their knees, in a pool of their father's blood
Protect and serve?
I think not.


*About a news report I recently saw, about U.S. soldiers killing innocent civilians for
sport. (This has been going on since there has ever been wars, it's not a new issue.) They
blamed it on being in a drug-induced state of mind, and on seeing disturbing images of
warfare. We debated in my class whether or not this type of murder can be justified. I
argued strongly and loudly that NO traumatization or drugged mind is a just reason to
murder and torture innocent people. The U.S. military is here to PROTECT and SERVE all
people. Does this sound like protection to you?


Details | Lyric | |

Junkie

you know its wrong 
but you do it to overpower the pain
not strong enough to stay away from it
you would die without it
in its presence your heart knows no shame
even if you try to win the fight
your heart will overrule your mind
Theres nothing you can do
its chained to you
you cant get free
look what this drug did to you


Details | Free verse | |

The Same Reservation Road

I walk through the reservation valley of alcoholic death/ 
I fear no darkness among my own for the light breathes life on its own through my every breath/ I can no longer fit in for I need to stand out above the rest/
 I can no longer follow, I got to be the host of my own because Im tired of being the guest/
 
I want to be the writer I dont want to be the reader/ 
I want to be the artist with the brush, I want to create I want to finally be my own leader/
 I want to be able to follow society's rules because I am tired of being a cheater/
 I want to be the supplier because Im tired of being the seeker/ 

I guess life is what I make it/ Forgive less as much as I still continue to forsake it/
 My life is just a jolt but at times I feel death shake it/ Grab my emotions by the reins and straight earthquake it/ I try and fix my problems until someone comes by and breaks it/
 but this is my time because Im still young so this young opportunity in life I must Take it.
 
I got to hold my head held high from being low/ 
I got to stay lost until I find my own being my purpose of another young lost soul/
 I cannot stop because Im too tired of staying stuck I must stay on go/ 
This my life now I know it my story waiting to be patiently told/ 
This my life now I got to let it un fold/ Let it slowly but surely grow/ 
Im just a hidden bomb waiting for my poetry to blow/ 
EVERYTHING I DID OR DO IN LIFE NOW IS SOMETHING I CHOSE? 
I GOTTA CHANGE BECAUSE I JUST CANT KEEP WALKING THE SAME RESERVATION ROAD.


Details | Couplet | |

GOOSE BUMPS

GOOSE BUMPS

http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j231/the...ean/dtgeese.jpg

I'd thought I found eternal rest
cold hands folded, still, on my chest
but I hear echoes from the past
the trumpet's sound, fierce bugle blast

Coming alert, I look around
burst out laughing, see the sound
source - back to sleep with merry wave
at geese, goose-stepping on my grave ....

Alan McAlpine Douglas


Details | Narrative | |

The Known Soldier

Last night awakened with thoughts of him
How long has it has been, only
Yesterday … 

First one I ever saw laid out
I sixteen, he nineteen, Viet Nam 
Airborne …

Purple complexion seeping through under glass 
I gaze on doll-like hair
Broomcorn …

His uniform perfect, tie straight
Blouse olive, at attention
Airborne … 

No one else at the funeral home
Me and a girl friend too early for death
Careworn …

Dead before he hit the ground
Cut down by ground-fire first jump no longer
airborne ...

So many years now, forty-two,
awakened with thoughts of him,
Wind-borne …

Still see his body rigid attention
rumor wire for arm, died before his time
Soilborne …

Didn’t know him well, would he
still be here if not
Airborne …

Would we have smoked and talked about 
women if he would be
reborn …

And what of Thua Thien, what now 
monument, blood of airborne boys?
Golf course …


Details | I do not know? | |

The Death Marches

Death March, The Death March,
One Two, One Two
Forgotten in feilds, 
We are the Jews

Death March, The Death March,
It's what we do
'Till we drops to the ground,
Our bodies thrown askew

Death March, The Death March,
One Two, One Two
The way our feet hit the ground
Our minds run through

Death March, The Death March,
It's what we do
When the whistle blows,
It is our cue

Death March, The Death March,
One Two, One two
The rythmic song
Drilled into our heads by the Nazi crew

Death March, The Death March,
It's what we do
It's why we get up every morning,
And die of the flu

Deth March, The Death March,
One Two, One Two
Forgotten in feilds
We are the Jews


Details | Epitaph | |

Auschwitz

No more the wretched screams of pain are heard within this place
We walk here with the ghosts of they who ever haunt this space
This godforsaken abattoir, this slaughter house of shame
Remembered in far distant land with one eternal  flame.

No birds sing here nor pass in flight, Life pauses at the gate 
The silence of the grave abides within this fence of hate
And even from the hardest heart it screams the question why
The ovens yawn their dreadful truth that bleeds tears from the eye.

A cold and dreadful ambiance is trapped within this wire
Imagined sounds of shuffling feet of those consigned to fire
The chambers shame in silence bears, the horror that befell
What evil, Godless, twisted mind, designed this ordered Hell

What awful thought, what sick warped mind, imagined such as this
Where hid the souls, who sold their friends, betrayed with Judas kiss
Repentant tears can never cleanse, this stain that mars this land
Nor Pilate’s basin, wash the blame, from bigots bloody hands

The earnest prayer of all who stand in silent witness here, 
Cries Justice for six million lives, destroyed by Facist fear
This manufactured hell hole, this mark of Cain defined
This everlasting edifice, of disgrace and shame enshrined


Details | Couplet | |

A Poet At Sea

                                                     Just a Poet at sea...
                                   A voyage across waters where I can be free...

                                      I sit with my feet up writing of the views...
                               Always knowing that my poetry will make small news...

                                The pages turn as I watch parents and children play...
                           I scribe tales of lovers and dreamers who set sail that day...

                            As the darkness filled the night only a quiet sky set a tone...
                                The moon is my light to scribble as I watch all alone...

                              The shaking of my pen as my paper is dusted in snow...
                Then screams of horror as water pours at my feet with no where to go...

                             I clench my book of tales and run to a point where I can be...
                                    And there I float as this world is eaten by the sea...

                                              As silence and cries drift fast asleep...
                               I close my eyes and die with only my poetry to keep...


written for DreamWeavers
Titanic contest...
by Michael J Falotico


Details | Rhyme | |

His Last Praise

To the tranquil heavens he raised
his last words, the soldiers he praised
for their bravery in killing little innocent children
and their strength in abusing the weak brethren

To the vast blue skies he raised
his last poetic voice, the dictators he praised
for their hearts of stone that killed many living flesh
and their eyes that rejected the hungry while they eat fresh

To the smooth sailing clouds he raised
his last voice, the heroes he praised
for their courage to risk their spirit to save
their race and their lives are the gifts they gave

To the warm embrace of the wind he raised
his last gratified song, the mothers he praised
for their small voice in begging compassion
their ardent love for their family is raging with passion

To the spirit from the gas chamber he raised
his last breath, the future survivors he praised
for their silence and tough faith
he wished for their triumph over uncertain fate

To the darkness of his sight he raised
his last prayer, his God he praised
for giving devils that let him hold a candle to light
and for teaching him to make worth of his life


Details | Quatrain | |

The St Bartholomew's Day Massacre

Oh bloody and evil Catherine de Medici. The queen has acted impetuously. Thousands have died because of her demands. Witness her red bloodstained hands. A wedding is a time of joy and jubilation. Instead, there is death and devastation. She thought the Huguenots would seek retaliation. It started with an attempted assassination. An attempt was made on Admiral Gaspard de Coligny. He led the Huguenot protestant party. Catherine took some Machiavellian action. She wanted to eradicate this rebellious faction. There had been widespread death throughout the land before. Peace brought an end to civil war. Margaret de Valois had married Henry of Navarre. Once again, hostility permeated the air. Killing spread from Paris to the countryside. In just a few months, thousands had died. No bloodier episode had ever been seen. The culpable party was the evil queen. I thank Wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.


Details | Rhyme | |

Tribute To Corporal Buckles

A hundred-ten year old soldier was interred in Arlington Cemetery today.
Corporal Frank Woodruff Buckles now sleeps nigh his comrades in sacred clay,
Awaiting that glorious morn when Gabriel's bugle will sound that final call,
To fall in for the last calling of the roll!   Corporal Buckles will be standing tall!

"Taps" was played echoing far beyond the hills of Arlington into the misty past,
Reminding all of brave men who were destined to die or were horribly gassed!
Courageous men who willingly placed national destiny above their very own,
To ensure that our precious and hard-won freedoms would ne'er be overthrown!

Only sixteen, he lied about his age trying to join the navy and marines with no luck,
And was told, "Go home before your Mom knows you're gone, you young buck!"
He told a bigger whopper telling the army recruiter he was all of twenty-one!
The sergeant, looking for warm bodies signed him up, thence the deal was done!

He was promoted to corporal and served with distinction as an ambulance driver.
After serving in France, he was honorably discharged, returning a heroic survivor!
As a civilian he was a prisoner of the Japanese in the Philippines but was kept alive,
And was rescued after three years in Los Banos prison camp in nineteen forty-five.

He proudly represented the 'doughboys' of The Great War as last man standing.
So much, so very much to him we owe for his service was most outstanding!
That venerable symbol of America, the majestic Golden Eagle, cried,
On the day that the old veteran, Corporal Frank Woodruff Buckles died!

(Corporal Buckles, the last American survivor of World War 1, died 27 February 2011, at the age of 110)

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved




Details | Elegy | |

My Kashmir Burns (Part 2)

Another son is dead, until five he lived.
For his long life at Shah-Hamdan he had threads tied
“Shehij ninder yee nai. Gahas Kormakh Khudayas Hawale”, his mother cries.
No news can penetrate across the mountains. Satellites work here no more
My Kashmir burns. And no one knows.
An old woman with torn scarf sits besides fire. While feeding her neighbor’s child
She sighs. Is my son dead or alive? She silently cries.
In Madrasa I hear children reciting Quran. A girl’s come out dragging her feet.
I remember her from somewhere. I remember her seeing naked. 
Oh! God she is the one who was raped.

Nights have turned pitch black. My eyes are losing the habit of sight
Midnight soldier’s set another house ablaze. At least there is some sort of light.
Many letters have been written to God. Postcards posted of those raped girl’s 
But its curfew again. No post office deliver’s the message again.
Death comes from everywhere. Close your windows mother
For bullet respects no womb. It turned Gulistans into tombs.
From the plains the visitors come to visit their God’s
They are our only witnesses but hypocrites at heart.
They say paradise is kaasmir. While my Kashmir is ablaze
They testify against us. Is anybody witnessing this? No one at all
Be witness to at least this. Open up your eyes my Lord!

When paradise is painted with colors of hell, certainly divinity loses its grace
In the news the reporter is beaten. Bamboo sticks are hungry for human blood.
Let Kashmir go to hell. A new promise in their portfolio.
Threads have given up at Dastegeer’s place. Even they are horrified at our fate.
In Maisuma boys are dragged by police. They close their dreams, end their screams
In a police gypsy.
Men shape into monsters when they are given right to anarchy.
The gypsy drives them into the dark cantonments. They will remember this day
Interrogation officer comes. After celebrating his son’s birthday.
The winds from the cantonments bring their news
Burned tires around their necks. Burning stoves near their heads.
The knife tearing up their flesh.
And the boys cry, “We haven’t batted yet. Cricket. We know nothing”.

Death wants children to be headlines
Hunger has affected the heavens as well.
Graves are full. No more space left.
We need land of the plains. For our graves.
In the ac car the bureaucrat goes. The mother’s with search full eyes
Ask about their sons they lost. They drink their tears
And he sips champagne.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Hollow Victory

The battle rages on
As the bullets fly
In the quest for victory
Our young soldiers die

They laid like stone
Tears of red
Hearts pierced by bayonets
A hundred men dead

Fighting for freedom
That’s what they were told
As the days progress
The truth would unfold

Not freedom or liberty
But a piece of land
Greed and power
Go hand in hand

With dawn’s light
The sounds of battle now still
One soldier stands alone
No more he has to kill

Wading in a sea of blood
Fallen comrades at his feet
Was this truly victory
A war based on deceit

What freedom lies in survival
When so many heartbeats cease
It is only those that died
That truly know the meaning of peace
__________________


Details | Rhyme | |

The western days

The gambler is at the table,playin with a deck of cards,
The gun slingers drinkin sour whiskey,standin at the bar.
The mayor is goin up the steps with a lady leadin his way,
The hard workin farmer comes in to spend a little of his pay.
The drunk is in the corner,tryin to bum a drink,
The traveler is shavin upstairs in the dry sink.
The guns are worn on their sides as they stand in the street,
The sweat is puring from their hands in this noon day heat.
The bullets spit from the guns worn upon their hips,
The slower one will surely fall,put dirt upon his lips.
The normal day in a small western town with no law,
The last one dissapeared,somethin no one saw.


Details | I do not know? | |

NEVER FORGET

"Never Forget"

A brutal blow
From a foe.
Awoke a gentle giant.

With hatred fused.
Our planes were used
Like daggers while they chanted.

Hundreds of lives
They stole that day.
Of every religion and color.

Awakened to war.
On land ,sea, and shore.
Defending Americas honor.

Transforming the ruins into a ship.
That will hunt them down and we'll
"Never Forget"

Maflongfellow








USS New York


It was built with 24 tons of scrap steel from the 

World Trade Center.

It is the fifth in a new class of warship - designed for missions that include special 
operations against terrorists. It will carry a crew of 360 sailors and 700 combat-ready 
Marines to be delivered ashore by helicopters and assault craft.

Steel from the World Trade Center was melted down in a foundry in Amite, LA to cast 
the ship's bow section. When it was poured into the molds on Sept 9, 2003, 'those 
big 
rough steelworkers treated it with total reverence,' recalled Navy Capt. Kevin 
Wensing, 
who was there. 'It was a spiritual moment for everybody there.'

Junior Chavers, foundry operations manager, said that when the trade center steel 
first 
arrived, he touched it with his hand and the 'hair on my neck stood up.' 'It had a big 
meaning to it for all of us,' he said 'They knocked us down. They can't keep us 
down.We're going to be back.'

The ship's motto? 'Never Forget'
NEVER FORGET...!!! 

She will be arriving in NY harbor on Nov 1, 2009 and commissioned in the US Navy 
Nov. 
7. 
If you are planning a trip to NY, you will be able to tour the ship during that week.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Leafraker response

Leafraker, was deep and insightful
Though through his woe, one can be spiteful
To drag his body from the depths
And succeed beyond that of the flesh
So, too he joins in mans defeat and the dawn of anew
Grasping hold of the light as darkness acts in que

The autumn leaves are a sign of a coming winter
But hark in the coming joy! For with earths fire is tinder
A conclusion, climax, end, and final adieu
Speaks of the history of a separate story starting like you
Birth!
From the great mother, her bosom springing 
A new species adjusted like Darwin’s singing!

The dead leaves shrivel and crumple underfoot!
But so to fire creates ash to pock grainy soot
As prelude does not one enjoy the coming of?
The brining about that comes from action and love?
The love of the here and now as Joseph Campbell spoke
Eternity exists with every now provoked

The fields of leaves abound ever acre in scores
but all creatures must attend to this for more
Whether hiding from beast or building an empire with decay
Others growing underneath battling the colds parley

A party exists for what gain? Only to happen again and again
Composer’s notes yield a pause only and refrain
The leafraker is a symbol of change my friend
A semblance of the spring of that’s is rapture like the wind

I say to you under starry sky tonight
Focus on what you can attain with every flicker of the light
But do not sadden when your book is at an end
Look to the new world that exists in your mind to begin
Spark! The light does reign in but wobble under a black hole
So too does the leafraker as new seasons take hold

Speak to me? For when it is spoken it came into being!

--10/18/08 in response to stimuli


Details | Tanka | |

We Will Never Forget


9/11  - We Will Never Forget!  

Unbelievably
The mighty towers crumbled
Grieving loved ones prayed
That God had spared their loved ones
While victims jumped from windows!

Beatrice Boyle
Tanka for Carolyn's Remembering 9/11 contest


Details | Narrative | |

LOATHSOME AGE OF GREED

If I had lived yesterday
in that chaotic world echoing
of Gatling guns shots and canon blasts,
I would have made a difference:
hate and prejudice would have not prevailed,
and power wouldn't have been abused;
from History's records, we know that even 
when Jesus lived it wasn't that peaceful!
During the American Civil war,
Northerners fought Southerners...
did they hear Scarlet's desperation,
or the moaning of her loss as war went on?
And for sometime, it had become
a modus vivendi she couldn't change.
Let's return to the stark reality of the present:
have we noted some drastic changes
in Government and social behavior?
Yes, it has given us more liberty,
but another war has shattered many hopes
of ever seeing peace as blood continues to be shed...
while nations arm themselves to their teeth!
How can we welcome those winds of change and feel safe,
if we tell our children that danger still exists?
And has society been kinder and more caring?
Obscenity, teen sex, violence, greed, vulgarity
and exploited sexuality are being condoned by many;
we wouldn't be that cool if we didn't use obscene words,
and worst of all, we are called hermits or asexual
if we abstain from sex to prevent those sexual diseases!
Is this rebellion, or a trend of the new generation?
Having unprotected sex, making babies, 
laying the burden on their Government that's fighting
a terrorist war? Do we seen any future
for these lost kids who imitate the habits of their parents?
Blame them? Ah! Lots of things would be changed,
if they turned to God and ask for His guidance!
And to end my visceral narrative, I shamefully confess, 
" I hate to live in this loathsome age of greed!"


Details | Free verse | |

The soldier, the war, and I

The soldier, the war, and I


Today I am home and thinking to my self..
What would I be doing if I had a soldier coming home to me and my family?
What would I be doing if I was the soldier looking to going home to my family?
And then, I look back at all the years passed since this last war..

Many children have grown to become men, Others have grown to become soldiers
Where would I be if I had gone to the war and fought for my country?
Where would I be if I had gone and came back safely?
Where would I be if I had not gone at all because I was not qualified to go?
Would I be with my family or in a hospital injured?
Would I be standing proud, and laughing with my friends and family?
Or would I be dead, as I never got to come back?

Today I am home and thinking to myself..
Thinking of all of those brave soldiers, children still
Who are out there, suffering.. And some ill

Today I am home and thinking to myself..
How many woman are crying because of their gone loved ones
How many men are crying for their loved and missed ones
How many children are fatherless or motherless, or both!

And at the end I stop. I think no more..
I am grateful for the things I have, 
I am grateful for the people who surround me...
And I am sure grateful to never have gone to a war; yet, 
I sure appreciate the thoughts, courage, life, and suffering
Of all of those who have been touched by it.


Details | Free verse | |

The Lynchings on Fox News


I’ve seen black sheep set in Pongola grass

Within pallid seas, differed, 

Like black buttons on a white cotton suit;

Sheep are color blind.

A bee is fine-looking,

But there’s fire in its ass.

Can the wild goat trust

The adder with inviting pelt?

Did Emmitt Till paint changes

With his blood in cotton picking towns;

The blood that called from Mississippi, 

Like Abel’s blood calling from the ground.

Death had a voice, a voice in the wind,

The wind that walked north-west

And brought a microscope

For John Public to see

How inferior to dogs we are.

As a child, I played

Ring-around-the-roses

Until I saw “Rosewood”

And heard the drums

Beaten like Rodney King, 

And the heartbeat of Cojoe

And Nanny racing

Towards the mountain of the devil,

To escape the cotton fields.

The drums are always talking.

The old south is alive and kicking high.

This is no Elvis tale. Exhume the body,

See with your own eyeballs.

No DNA can confirm

That Jim Crow is dead.

Jim Crow has a roost on Fox News.

He’s always crowing,

Whipped up by the “boy”

In the WHITE house.

How much can you see

If you look from the outside?

I’ve seen it even in REM sleep,

Even when I dream of roasted breadfruit,

Jockato in coconut milk, and Chinese geisha;

Willie Lynch is a man breathing

The smog-filled air in Washington.

In 1955, Money was the root of the evil,

And ’68 Memphis was the cross 

Of the sacrificial lamb,

But these days men are lynched

In broad day light.

String up, dangling

Like papa's khakis  floating

In breeze walking the orange glen.

All eyes should see our opinion of them.

Today we’re civilize, 

And Catholicism is not voodoo.

We no longer use rope,

Our tongues do a fine job.

Like Mutabaruka,

I have no color problem;

Everything is black to me,

As black as Sarah’s view of the motherland

(It’s not too vital for her to learn).

If blue skies

Cried acid,

And wash the dark color

From this portrait,

I would still be black,

As black as tar.

It’s in my blood. 



 


Details | Free verse | |

The Drone

 You use it every day.
 It is a basic part of life now.
 Maybe it’s the flicker of the radio
 Or the buzz of a computer.
 It is used every day to make our lives simpler and less stressful. 
 Is it really helping us though?
 It does make our life simpler
 But is this a downward spiral into emotionless and effortless life?
 A life where instead of real soldiers with real emotions
 are sent to fight,
 A drone controlled by someone at a computer is used to kill innocent civilians. 
 The drone is emotionless.
 No compassion for other beings and no feeling of guilt or regret.
 This is the future,
 an emotionless drone controlled by someone at a computer. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Haiku #7 - Ray Charles

He sang me a song
blindy motivated me
and just died last year.


Details | Ballad | |

THE GARDEN

Thus the world was ruined, By the sin of a single man. A tiny twist in the story, Brought about a change in God’s plan. For out of the garden they were thrown With nothing but rags to cover themselves; But with wisdom so dangerous yet powerful That opened the gateway to hell.


Details | Free verse | |

The London Dead End

Tis a hallowed place...
This cobbled maze of alleyways
Which bond these rat infested streets
Yet, gas lamps lit, stand betwixt the corners
And lone Bobbies patrol beneath their feet

London,
A littering city of homeless ashes
Falls shameful underneath the moon’s pathetic light
The darkness is the seductress... soon to be accomplice
As the hooligans, once again reanimate in mist of twilight

Scruff tooth kings of domains, self proclaimed
The dagger and a pocket flask, two most closely guarded friends
And in the dank corner pitch kingdom, we anticipate 
From a realm dubbed “The London Dead End”

Lush stumblers...
Streetwalkers or simply naïve
Entry here, our law says you must pay the toll 
Or pay the piper before you leave

I partake of liquid courage
And then I set my blade
To foot falls around corners this way come…
Among this lonely blackened place...

This maze…
Of streets and alleyways…
Paved over each eve with lost shadows
Never again... to witness a morning sun


Details | Acrostic | |

INTRO BY OBIT

Born January 31, 1953  – Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson – Died January 30, 2048
 

                                                                   	      
 
HeRe, tell the truth,
   liEs The Right Reverend Hudson
 reBorn almost a century ago –
 thE time was winter,
suCh long, long hours
baCk in cold, cold days
 clAndestine rape

SaFety was unim-
poRtant for women
whO were married –
noNe spoke of
suCh 
  thIngs back 
 thEn
 
  By God! This woman
   refUsed to let that
  get In the way of
 her Living –
she Excelled at life

   AlcHemist,
she Understood her birth
    diD not define or restrict
her Self, her choices, her
      lOve, her presence, or her death –  she
    kNew, with certainty:  only truth is true!


Nota Bene – January 30, 2048 is the 100th anniversary of Gandhi’s assassination
 

We Thank All That Is Good She Was Here!


Details | Rhyme | |

Life on a sword, death from a lance.

My gut begins to tremble with an angry growing storm,
the sun is blotted out by this,
like a demon taking form.
The rain descends on this my end when crowds begin to chant,
they see two mortals trapped in time,
simply fight they cant.

The blade in hand is struck by his and sends out chills so cold.
He knows his fate is just like mine,
We cling to life and hold,
The mud is thick and rain is too, the waters running deep.
Like lightning quick I land a blow that puts my foe to sleep.

So now the test has run its course, its time to mount my steed,
my legs find peace and rest with him,
alas my hands they bleed.
The wind takes hold of the crowds old song, it leaves me stunned and lone.
This metal case surrounding me 
is a tomb I feel alone.

If Hades were a simple man his life would surely end,
but now this man he wants me dead,
it's Hades son, it's not a friend.
I see his mask as he breaths out smoke, his armor is no tomb,
He wants this done as much as I,
but sends me back my doom.

So here I lay, no tears for me but that of earth and sky
the champion now dismounts his beast
and makes to where I lie.
Bravely fought he says to me, but now your life is mine.
It is a service I've done for you,
your pain and fear is gone from time.


Details | Blank verse | |

corruption

The $ is corrupt, that's why a lot of niggas are fucced up , tryna get a Dolla like the government. Found out they did work with Hitler, now I know Osama wasn't no different they know everything, even where the nigga shitted and slept how stupid you think we are? No sir and no ma'am all that you say just sounds like spam, I want to Jam but what I bump gets crushed because its the truth and they don't want the truth because they some phony muthafukcas talkin jive and lies put crakc in the hood because they know, that our people are broken and weak stripped of culture and lost so they took hold of that poison. Fucc AmeriKKKa land of the free ain't *****free, freedom of speech ain't useful get put in jail for raisin hell about how you livin is hell ..


Details | Rhyme | |

Nation of death





The death nation
Made  for the fear a new sensation
No words, no talks , no negotiation
Well seeing is believing
Heaven  is our motivation
Yesterday it was asleep
Today nothing is gonna keep
The death nation
Rising above every situation
A nation who loves death , it's not any more a myth


Details | Lyric | |

All Along the Watchtower Re-Visited for 9-11

"There must be some kinda way to find out here"
Said the seeker to the stealer
"There's too much confusion
I'm struggling to be the reveal"

"Conglomerate men, they drink my wine
Politicians dig my earth
None will level on the line
Because none of them are worth it" hey

"There is reason to get excited"
The seeker, he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us
Who feel our governments a joke"

"Now you and I, we've lived through this
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now
The hour is getting late", hey

Hey

All along the watchtower
Liars kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants too

Outside in the cold distance
The C.I.A. did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl, hey

All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower

All along the watchtower on that tragic September day
We need some investigation, for someones has to pay
Now you and I, we've lived through this, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, before this generations to late

We will always remember, and remember who we lost that day
We need some investigation, for someone has to pay
All along the watchtower, a nation in mournful cries
We are not so blind, it's amazing what you can see when you close your eyes

All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower




James, we lost you in Kensington, England. The Star Spangled Banner will
live long in your past. I can't say the same for some of your American so
called country people. Thank you for allowing me to gracefully use . . . .
'All Along the Watchtower' it's blatantly obvious someone was not.

To all the lost in the 9/11 tragedy, my thoughts will always be with you.


 All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix, with some lyrics changed 




Details | I do not know? | |

Gulf Oil Spill !

Man to blame,
Once again to his shame,
His record continues to destroy !
 
The beauty he did not create, nor can he save…
He will never learn how to properly behave…

Nature screams pointlessly once again ?
Fearing where next we’ll drill ?
Gulf oil spill.


Details | Haiku | |

Bonnie

Together Bonnie
We set out on a love spree
For eternity

Blinded by no tear
We will always remain near
Never showing fear

You have not left me
We survive in infamy
Bloody destiny


Details | Ottava rima | |

Final Solution

A couple of generations ago, people were the victims of genocide. Into concentration camps they would go. By the hundreds of thousands, they all died. The most atrocious events we would know. With evidence, they could not be denied. I was not around when such evil took place. I’m glad I did not live in this time and space.


Details | Elegy | |

Voices From The Sky

So sad So very, very sad Those voices from the sky So little time So much to say, In those Moments before they die So few So very, very few The words that said goodbye So far away So very, very far away… Yet heard…every whisper…every sigh So many… I love you’s so many stifled cries So many pauses…so many tear-filled eyes So lovely So very, very lovely Those precious words from on high So silent So very, profoundly silent After that last goodbye Those last “I love you’s, Tell the kids I love them too We’ll meet again… me and you” Phones gently So, so gently Laid down and moved aside So hard So very, very hard to leave Those voices from the sky Let's Roll!!


Details | Didactic | |

Before

I want to return to the nothingness
Before creation breathed fire
And stars burned lies
Before gods were invisible
And prophets had eyes

I want to return to the nothingness
Before compassion was heroic
And suffering worth seeing
Before humans were civil
And sentient a being

I want to return to the nothingness
Before armies tilled the earth 
And flags touched the sky
Before glory was a virtue
And prejudice rained pride

I want to return to the nothingness
Before hate held hands
And equality was a seat
Before tyranny was religious
And history can repeat

I want to return to the nothingness
Before children knew pain
And hunger swallowed lives
Before families were aborted
And love beat wives

I want to return to the nothingness
Before profit needed money
And charity a name 
Before rape had a victim
And justice no shame

I want to return to the nothingness
Before I look in my heart
And try to understand
Before I believe in miracles
And that death has a plan
 


Details | Blank verse | |

As The Other Me Takes Over

Society is a reason that has just ran cold,
Like the tempature I'm feeling never seems to get ahold,
The sadness lingers over and the beauty starts to fade,
When I saw all the negative on the news today,
The darkness that is surrounding me has found a new home,
Deep inside my brain it swells trying to kill the bold,
The new found confidence I had seems to have been old,
Like the old man with the cancer that has just got told,
I know he's still with me in my heart and in my soul,
but I just can't stand what this new year has to hold,
Will it be good for me, will I see, 
All the positive, when will the demons stop to breathe?
There like vultures in my body, I can feel them feed,
All this happiness that I held, were they just a dream?
I've found a medicene that will kill the pain, of the hurt I share,
Your pain it scars me like a knife cutting threw the care,
The worry of this generation is not what it should be,
But I was left with a gift, I'm lucky too be me.
Can I be the light, In the darkness?
Can I bare the stake running threw your lungs,
Can I be the air that you breathe when the whole worlds died,
Can I be the tears in the midst of happiness you cried?
 
Please love me now and in return I'll make your life worth while,
and you won't know what is hurt, I'll heal your wounds and take you from your life,
Give you a new start and I'll set things right,
I see the innocense in a noose every single night,
I wish I could pick them off the rope so high,
What would drive them too that point,
I regret the days I spent,
Being so unhappy in the life I live,
I'm trying to be proud in a world where it's scarase,
Where children have no parents,
Where the government is only but single Tyrants,
So make my job easy and give me the knife,
That will kill these lunatics that crave the night,
That don't do whats right,
I will train in the darkness where I'm the only light,
I will rid the world of there parrell and strife.
Please god just save me tonight.


Details | Verse | |

Future Earth

Completely at ease
Calm, tranquil, serene
Bronze skin sunbathing 
Cool breeze

Enveloped in earth's beauty
witnessing creation;
Becoming embodied with the thoughts of perfection,
original earth
original plan of action
Ultimate fulfillment and satisfaction

The old world is no more
We've come fully human
heart and mind restored
No longer noting the difference between
the old world and the new
Completely erased
Renewed

But in the meantime, 
I moan for freedom from strong holds like
sickness and death and oppression
I moan for freedom for the disabled 
the mentally challenged,
the persecuted and their transgressions

Freedom from racism, injustice
ignorance, violence and depressions
I moan to end war, rape, incest
exploitation, thievery and anxiety

That was not the original plan
But the earth will be restored
and be as beautiful as it began


Details | Narrative | |

In Vietnam

I had just turned eighteen, when the order came.
For long as I live, I’ll never be the same;
I was told that day I was going away,
To Vietnam.
 
I remembered that day, as my feet hit the ground,
As all around me came the sound,
Of the guns and screams,
In Vietnam.

Our leader ordered us to the trees,
Where everyone got on his knees,
To try and destroy the enemy,
In Vietnam.

We tried to stand, but the odds were too great,
And so we retreated before it was too late.
The fight continued another day,
In Vietnam.

We marched through forest, swamp and marsh,
Through weather fair, and weather harsh.
We endured a living hell, 
In Vietnam.

Friends were made and friends were lost,
The freedom we have came at their cost.
The price of war is often high, but not like that
Of Vietnam.

A hero’s welcome, I thought, for sure;
But nothing was farther from what I endured
When I got back
From Vietnam.

The price we paid was soon forgot,
For peace and ignorance is what was sought.
The truth died there,
In Vietnam.


Details | Rhyme | |

Lizard tale


   Lizard with sneaky eyes
   four legs , one tail , negligible size
   Seemed peaceful at first , very afraid
   ,but so the devil in disguise 
   How a lizard from far away
   Came close to us , as one mile?
   How a lizard from far away
   As it is approaching, looked like a crocodile
   At the right moment ,I will grab my sphere
   I will stab it , with nothing to fear
   I won't fall for the crocodile tears.


Details | Rhyme | |

Forgotten Soldiers

We are the long forgotten
Just ordinary men
We fought for gain and glory
And met our gory end

We marched in fields of honor
Cause we were in the right
And ended up with nothing
Torn open from the fight

We are Alexander's army
Or Pharaoh's lowly slaves
The Romans ran us over
Now we're rotting in our graves

So long the woe-begotten
We soldiers of the past
Just pay us fond remembrance
And give us peace at last


Details | Free verse | |

End of Times

                                 
                    The End of Times is coming.
                   You can feel it in your bones.
              Floods, earthquakes, and tsunamis…
                      Are only the first to show.
                         Where will you hide? 
                 When the plagues come around?
                    Salvation will be hard to find,
                          For those earthbound.

                               2012 is coming
                          Is it fact or is it myth?
           The Earth’s weather patterns are changing.
                         Fossils are everywhere
                            Will we be stronger?
                            Or in the rocks grip?




Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Love Not Allowed

He had fallen in love when he had first seen her, her dark black hair and green eyes had 
been what had attracted him.

Yes he knew the danger but he had smuggled her out, taken her to his home and he had not 
told a soul what he had done.

She was nineteen and he was fourtythree, he did not see the age difference and only saw 
her beauty, if anyone found out he was hiding her then he knew they would be both killed.

She had lived with him for eight days, in that time he had never tried to seduce her or make 
any advance towards her, he clothed her and provided food and any comfort that she 
required.

On the eigth night she came to his room, she was naked when she slipped into his bed and 
they made love all the way until the dawn, it would be their last night together.

They came the next morning, he knew he had to shoot her, the Luger given to him by his 
father two years ago was the weapon he had to use.

She wept silent tears for she knew what must be done, he put the gun to her head and 
pulled the trigger.

He put the gun to his own head as he heard them break down the door, he knew they would 
have both been punished to death and this was the only way.

They were too late to stop him and he pulled the trigger with the gun at his head and his 
body fell to lay with the dead body of the woman he had loved.

It was not supposed to had happened, a German guard falling in love with a Jewish girl 
condemned to have been gassed to death at the camp.


Details | Free verse | |

Sacred Passage

God of light conquer my fear from within

An eclipse of the sun has tainted my inner vision
Who are we to have believed yet achieved
Some are even caught in its pickle;
Stranded as two love birds caught in a fickle

Sacred Passage
The uniting of two hearts so far away we will pray
God of heaven take delight on my poetry
Look highly favorable amidst the summoned truth

Like a lost carriage we take our flight away

Far from the lost brevity in exchange of honesty
The silence has etched its memory in our brains
Shattered by the moment of upheaval and then,
Sacred Passage;

We look humbly then often deeper then ever before


In exchange of honesty its just Studio 54?


Details | I do not know? | |

American Heart

America resides within the heart of all Who believe in freedom, choice, voice and opportunity Deny, not, the display of pride within yourself Or else you’d deny pride in this land of the free America, more than land, it’s home to you and me Some dare tread, take arms against and try to squash All that America ever stood for, which is evident to all They fear the freedom, strength and all that’s offered As they know, against us, they would never stand tall And for all their attempts, America makes them fall This 9-11, let us not focus on terrorist actions But, on those Americans lost, that still live in our hearts Remember and honor them by living the American dream Exhibiting the ideals and always doing our part Showing all, America has muscle but lives through its heart


Details | I do not know? | |

death camp

looking at the shoes,
laying on the floor,
makes me wonder,
what really happened to the poor,
these poor poor people what did they do so wrong,
being the wrong nationality,and now they are all gone,

some were jews and some were not,
some got gassed and some got shot,
some were children and some were mothers,
how can we do this to each other,
and  try to keep it all under cover,

this was auschwitz a silly little camp,
run by monsters who thought they were the champs,
what can we learn from these awfull crimes,
what can we do to never return to these times,

think of the millions and think of their cries,
think of their relatives with tears in their eyes,



Details | Free verse | |

Straight From The Heart

That burning passion within
The unexplainable feelings you sense when they walk towards you
The loss of breath and the strangulation you feel gripping around your throat
Choking off every last bit of air you have left to your name
You feel like collapsing to your knees and crying
Wishing you had them back in your arms and running your fingures through their soft hair
You wish you could go back in time to re-live those treasuring moments of bitter sweetness
You can hear their voice echoing inside your head at night when your trying to relax
Your dreamless nights filled with tears and pain
You outstretch your hand beckoning, begging for them to come back
Memories sharp as daggers, peircing your flesh
As they look away from you eachtime
The warmth they gave you before is now gone
You feel like your body has become a corpse to rot forever
When you see then with another
You feel so betrayed and furious
Wanting them back more then anything
You would give up everything you had left just to let them know you cared and still hurt
You want so badly for them to just take the loneliness away
Nothing else can be done
Nothing else will work
Your lost
Your alone
Your scared
You cry for help but no one listens
You feel like dying
Even though they know that deep in your heart they still have that special mark
But they'll never know what they meant to you so you write these words Straight from the 
Heart.


Details | Rhyme | |

Approaching


It's coming close, it's coming close
As the feeling inside of me
Grows and grows
He is here, I can see
An army of hundred thousand rows 
In the near future, may it be
It's coming close, it's coming close
No peace, not for  now
Only war shows
him winning as his army goes
To free Philistine
It's coming close, it's coming close


Details | Haiku | |

2-8-2012 Prompt: hat -Written for NaHaiWriMo

exotic plumage
adorning expensive hats—
chicks

© February 8, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

http://www.endangeredspecieshandbook.org/legislation_lacey.php


Details | Monorhyme | |

Undated

Aggravation waited.
Health always debated.
Material things created.
Mental capacity unstated.
History always elated.
Final breath is fated.
Future is overrated.
Partners never sated.
Love cannot be slated.
Compassion will be desecrated.
Desire falsely translated.
Life is overly stated.
From the day we are created.
While we are all interrelated,
We continually face each other abated
Awaiting our dignity to be dictated,
We fail each other blindly sedated.
If we are lucky we go through life conjugated.


Details | Bio | |

Go-Go Soul

With his go-go soul and sultry sound, he kicked out many lyrics and spat out many rhythmatic rhymes…they in the main stream at first rejected and disrespected his sound. They said it would corrupted the youth! Don’t mean a thing, he might say to them, if it ain’t got that go-go swing! With his trade mark glasses he sported with his guitar in tote as he strutted across the stage sporting that familiar treasure cat smile…as the black young youths on the dance floor…grinded out and sweated to his almost hypnotic beats and lyrical remixed of a restructured hit song …in a blacked out hole in some night club in the back streets of DC the former murder capital of the world! As he hollered out individuals names of people that seem to always follow him to just about ever one of his sold out shows…he even called out segments of each DC barrows as a show of appreciation for their loyalties and support. It took the main stream awhile to catch onto his different take on music…but he was not just the father of go-go music, he was an ambassador of all who truly love music and the lyrics of a song…he just remixed with his own flavor and called it the Chuck Brown and The Soul Searchers sound! Rock on Chuck, cause we know you got Gods Angeles grinding out to one of his sultry Go-Go songs! Even though we will all miss him, I know he got God even shaking his head to his Bustin Loose song!


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Stupid

The world is filled
With those who kill
With God's name on their lips
Oh how morally ill,
Be he Buddah, Christ, Mohammed,
Krishna, no matter what the name,
What you have done, is totally insane

You wanker, you fool,
You kIll for 72 virgins,
Or spreading your gospel,
With unholy excursions,

The sex of a dead man
More than you deserve,
Your insult to God,
Beyond any word

You Nazi, you fool,
You brainless devil's tool,
Just wait till you die,
You dweller of cesspool

For each life taken,
Is counted off before you
As you beg mercy,
For what you did do

Scum of the Earth,
Subhuman of heart
When you do succumb,
It's only the start

Of enjoying your afterlife,
Sorry, no women for you,
You'll be the devil's plaything,
For all the evil you did do.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Forever Trail

They roam miles over hillsides
stride aimlessly cross open plains
and grassy fields
unseen and silent to all cept' those
who see with more
then their eyes,
hear with more 
then their ears,
and believe with more
then their hearts and minds.
Twilight,a gray blue haze,settles in
quiet, no sound(s) heard
but those of time almost forgotten
souls lost, blanketed by death
foot-steps hushed by time
travel now in ghostly silence
their destiny, to travel the forever trail.
Physical lives long shed in defense
of the very ground they are now one with
their cries must be heard! always honored
never to be forgotten
lest their lives were sacrificed for naught.

Melody A. Coster


Details | Lyric | |

The Death of You

Wrote this back in middle school, sitting at the piano. 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Save me I’m drowning,
Six feet below
Helplessly falling,
 Into the darkness we know

All the life begins to drain,
Wrists are painted red with shame
Die from what I’m dreaming of,
From the death of my love

Standing by your stone, 
Whispers bleed through
Standing here alone,
Thinking of you

All the life begins to drain,
Wrists are painted red with shame
Die from what I’m dreaming of,
From the death of my love

Take my life and take my hand!
Please! Just try and understand
All that I am going through,
From the death of you…



Details | I do not know? | |

Existence

Once upon a time in the history of the past was born  into existence an evilness 
that would last, through generations to the end of time brought forth to man every 
imaginable crime. from the earth without form or void ,came the demons a sickness
 the paranoid.
  First came the demon temptation it grew fast across the unborn nations
then came death and hate ,nothing left for negotiation then lust and fornication 
raping the planet before life began ,the ultimate sinner was born a man.
Who created man, and what the hell is lust out from the heavens blew the wind and 
dust and there things are and what should be ,he who gave us the air was hung on 
a tree.
 they say he's the savior ,the savior of what ? and why would you save us from the 
things that we got, man is the demon created for sin, and when this life is over our 
death will began,
And then we will see what's good is not ,the life we have chosen, and we all have a 
lot of things that aren't true it all was a lie, we've all tried to live but for sin we will 
die
It does not matter what happened in the garden of Eden,we were created for sin 
hate and bleedin.
It now does not matter who beggat who ,were all goin to hell this much is true ,
  so hate who you want and love what you will, your as good as puppet just 
needing a thrill,  the past is history the future a bler life is for living 
              but death is for sure ..................................
                                                        James............................................................


Details | Terzanelle | |

Absence

December’s Time of mourning and joy in Europe
Crossing the red gates, bridges, towers and walls, 
It slips on the slippery velvet revolutions` slope.

Candles burned, rolled, stopped extinguished by wind 
The crying of lambs and cynical lights shot, shouted, and cried;
Wolves changed the hair with season, fortress and bind.                                                             

Then, it snowed a lot, and there was a white flood 
At the other side of the crying of Lot: orange, green or blue 
Covered the slaughter house and the hot blood;

Miners, archeologists of inner conscience sleep in the old library;
A bell tolls with sounds, tones and other colors a new history;
Festive lights, martyrs and candles lie around sanctuary…

Temptation of good everywhere in the world 
In hiding place, absence of good may grow:  
Collect infinite goods sharpen new swords.
    
In Plato`s cave, the fire still burns spreading strange shapes:
Angels and keepers of flame, finding harmony in agony
Freed handcuffs of tyranny, liberty`s monsters like grapes…
Absence of empathy, mercy and shame sums history`s irony.


Surat Al-`Asr ( 103)
The Declining Day…
Know 1Corinth13:4-13;1John4:8-16 ?


Details | Blank verse | |

Storm Warning

The gathering storm rattled snakelike over distant hills,
Heads of dust and debris thrown as charcoal relief
To the vast expanse of the sky;
In the drought of reason, heat radiated a stillness,
Diseased and brooding, motionless as fissured statues
Or corpses in their time of desiccation.
The old grudges quickly stirred, their animation jostling with fever,
Until they burst tall and armoured, bloody hands
Raised up to the heavens;
Ceaselessly goading, provoking war dogs, effected
Reprisals in a rain of missiles, for attrition ruled
The stalemate kingdoms with seething deities.
The storm is coming, a travel of increasing ferociousness,
Laying waste to desert blooms and flesh,
And sat upon the pale horse the name is always death.
Towers of toasted glass and white steel,
Market places, schools and homes…and people…
All fair game carrion before such implicit dominion…


Details | I do not know? | |

Tomb of the unknown soldier

There's flowers on the grave where this man lies,
The flowers on this grave will never wilt or die,
Thoughts of this person resting in this tomb,
Lay across this nation in every living room,
He died beneath the colors of the red,white and blue,
To keep people safe like me and you,
Nobody knows his name or his race,
All they ask is for on him will God shed his grace,
God please watch over this soldier that nobody knows,
And keep the others safe no matter where they go.


Details | Rhyme | |

Bloody Omaha

Midnight June the 5th 1944 me and my buddies departed Weymouth and put out to 
sea

To smash through Hitlers eastern wall to liberate Europe and make her once again 
free

We knew some,most of us wouldnt be coming back

As we neared Omaha beach at 4am we started to take German flak

From high above us we could hear the bombers delevering there deadly cargo to 
the enemy on the ground

The french coast was pummeled as night turned to day followed by the cargos 
deathly sound

It looked like the 4th of July and i wondered if id ever see another one

Then our landing craft doors opened my buddies in front didnt stand a chance 
bullets tore them to shreds and they were gone

All around me carnage reigned we were in a killing zone the bluffs seemed so 
distant they shouldnt be that far away

I looked around me at my buddies dying or dead before me some motionless where 
they lay

Something had gone terribly wrong we wernt even on the right stretch of beach

I needed to get to cover quickly i saw a sand dune took my chance and managed 
just to reach

The day was breaking now i gazed around me as the dawn broke through the night

I felt sickened and appauled at what i saw ive never forgot that sight

And still the carnage continued as one by one the Rangers fell

Ive never been a religous man but that morning i saw hell

The Germans shouldnt be this strong here thats what we were told

But we had to get off this beach i didnt want to be one of the fallen lying 
motionless,cold

There were 36 men left in my unit we now numbered just 5

The other guys around me were dead or dying i was fighting to survive

But i was one of the lucky ones i managed to get through that day

Looking back to that time and such a terrible price my buddies had to pay

5 beaches were taken that day Gold Juno Sword Omaha and Utah

I was a young sargeant in the 2nd Rangers my beach was Bloody Omaha

And in my minds eye i still see the beach that day and the sea running red

I still see the tide washing up my buddies the dying and the dead

Historians looking back now see where the mistakes were made

Omaha bloody Omaha its referred to is where such a high price was paid

Nearly 5,000 young Americans and Canadians on that beach on that day

We must never forget them they and what they did and the price they had to pay

Omaha was the bloodiest but lest we not forget the other four

For they shall allways be in my prayers for today and for ever more


Details | Verse | |

Judgement Day

Judgement Day

The misconception about this day
Is that it’s just one day
Well today
You’re gonna hear the truth 
Now you can take it or leave it
But this is what I was sent here to do

Following the war of Armageddon
The earth will morn
It will begin the thousand year process
Of being restorn
For those who survive Armageddon
Hope will be your first born

Now let’s not confuse this moment in time
A day is a thousand years in God’s eyes
And if the wages of sin is death
Then that means
He won’t judge you on what you did before you died

So when the scrolls open, 
It doesn’t read your past 
It’s a new requirement that you must obey
So the earth you can reap at last

So no, you won’t be standing in a line
He will judge you on what you choose to do
During that time
It’s like a chance at redemption
A chance to be a part of a perfect condition
You’ll see your dead loved one and 
The past!
You won’t even mention

The earth will be restoring from the years
Of evil and pain
Cleaning out it’s core
Regenerating – becoming exactly like before
And even when witnessing and seeing all this proof
People will still deny divine force
Yes. And the 144,000 will rule as kings
Don’t believe me its in the verses at Revelation 14.


He has delegated this work in progess
Organized in a way you’ve never seen
And if you don’t heed the word
You will be destroyed
And you wont inherit the earth like the meek

So I say this
Get your mind right and you can
Experience bliss
Cause once the blaze is kindled
And he asks you to keep your head bowed low
You better conform
And if not you gon’ miss the boat

Now this day will come
It’s a time you cant prevent
But I can guarantee that no one 
Will suffer eternal torment
Except the Devil, the one He throws in the abyss

There is hope to fill the silence
And there is another chance
That’s why he died for our sins in advance
You’ve been warned now
So make sure you got a solid plan


Details | I do not know? | |

Perhaps

Perhaps the sailor was a saint,
the woman was a tart.
Perhaps the images we paint
are tainted by our heart.

Perhaps the young man held a gun
or did he hold a toy?
Perhaps he died his mother's son,
her only pride and joy.

Perhaps the children playing there
were casualties of war.
Perhaps it's true we're well aware
of what the mines are for.

Perhaps the soldiers on the wall
were only children too.
Perhaps you've never cried at all
because it wasn't you.

Perhaps there was an Angel sent
our mortal souls to save
and He, like other soldiers, went...
a young man to his grave.


Details | Monorhyme | |

' NEW PHILIPPINES '

=============================================== ~*~ crystallized rime of frozen ire - craving to thaw as morning dew dense compact icicle of wrath's revenge emanating - now in subdue when plummeted - no escape death's end grave in BLUE scene of God's hands masterpiece where love and miracle in glue men sculpted and molded the new milieu mourning tears line of truth - skew now, Philippines - tropical country now in woo woe, fear - nestling hearts of unknown innocence ensue? this is just the start of a great "FELL", what must we do? hailstone of hailstorm occupying, subjugating us in crew red ruby blood stained "FLOODED " the nation's land in "debut" new state of grave - thousands died begging for prayers ...IN OURS, PUT YOUR SHOE ~*~ ============================================================== *-* jun-jun villanueva *-* "TELL ME A SECRET" Contest entry


Details | Rhyme | |

Homai Vyarawalla

Where art thou now, woman with flashing light,
like fingers of God freezing time and men,
in black and white. Thou art not here,
but thou art here forever like death could not
pinch thee away from my eyes
nor hide thee beyond the chronicle of Mumbai.
Many will rest but thou will not, thou weary soul.
I saw thy work hanging like the lynched Messiah,
and saw the truth; life has no voice to speak thy praise,
but death … thy worship raised, like Lazarus from the grave.


Details | Rhyme | |

Sacco and Vanzetti

Two men were murdered in the Massachusetts town of Braintree. They were Frederick Parmenter and Alessandro Berardelli. Both were employees of the Slater-Morrill Shoe Factory. The culpable individuals absconded with payroll money. Two followers of the infamous anarchist Luigi Galleani were immigrants Nicola Sacco and Bartolommeo Vanzetti. Neither had police records, but espoused militant anarchy. Both were connected to the Braintree murders circumstantially. The two arrested men became world centers of controversy. The first trial was filled with questionable testimony. There were numerous requests from all over for clemency. After two trials, the defendants were found guilty. The twenty-second of August in 1927 was their last day. Controversy about their involvements persists up to today. I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.


Details | Free verse | |

Death and Dying

The night Hunter S. Thompson,
blew his head off,
Toy Box Tomato Girl,
went Gonzo Geisha on me.
Abandoning the old man’s love,
for pure unadulterated orgy,
intoxicating arms and legs,
intertwining lyrical sighs,
with bi young black,
and blond hard bodies,
tango tongues sharing saliva.
I assume the blue black hue, 
of late night television,
as segregate candles,
was less exciting.					

The night Hunter S. Thompson,
shot a hole in his skull,		
Hemingway’s history, 
lay on his boney lap.
The running of the bulls,				
the crash in Castro’s Cuba,
the locking-up of papers,
the string of worldly wives,
aimless running away.
Toy Box Tomato Girl,
knew little of the artist  face.
Being just twenty two,
she had yet to embrace,
life’s joys and tragedies. 
Not quite able to end it all,
and not quite schooled, 
in T.V. light literature,
spontaneously she fled.


Details | Rhyme | |

Death Of A Queen


She died in 1694

Loved and hated for the crown she wore

Hoping for a male heir to the thrown

but a female is what they had grown

Still the mourners gathered round

to bid farewell to her lovely crown 

Six horses lined up two by two

Her chariot glistening with morning dew

Mary Stuart she was named

The Queen of England she had reigned

No celebration upon her birth

but tears fell as she was layed in the earth

A disapointed father 

Three babies born dead

but Mary carried on

with the crown upon her head

Born in the spring of 1662 

She died at the age of thirty two

Smallpox took their Queen away

on that dark December day


Details | I do not know? | |

Beneath this glittering face

i've already bruised my head with ample thinking;
i waded through enough stress,
beneath me i died a silent death.

i've seen beyond where eyes could see!
i placed my foot where no other man would,
i cried from the depths of struggles and sufferings
i reached maximum limits of living but camemback naked.

beneath this glittering face lies emmerse pain,
the pain of unfulfilled dreams
strikes of generational curses
broken heart internally bleeding

beneath this glittering face a heart is full of scars;
suicidal thoughts pseudocodes written,
logical steps will indeed be taken...............for me to die or perish
for the dead seem more fortunate than us the living


Details | Narrative | |

A PIRATE'S STORY

We used to rent a very old house
for our summer vacations, it was built
in the early fifteen hundred by criminals
who roamed the Atlantic Ocean for gold and diamonds:
roof, windows and doors reminded us
of a dark house that pirates frequented
in the Caribbeans...one could imagine 
how many treasure chests were there with one 
of them watching over them most of the day;
and had he gotten drunk, they'd have dumped him
into the Ocean! Those pirates were merciless:
life meant nothing to them as they pillaged and killed.
There was no air conditioner,
and we left the windows open,
so we could sleep comfortingly, but here and there
weird sounds were heard turning into a human voice,
" Child, wake up and come with me...
I'll tell you a pirate's story you haven't read yet,
the one that actually happened when I was your age."
His red face had marks that only swords could have carved;
his pointy nose as dirty as a kid playing with mud,
his teeth rotten and yellow with a horrible stench.
" No! " I screamed, but my scream no one could hear
as he pulled me off my bed and dragged me outside.
" Why are you afraid of me, child? I mean no harm!"
And as he said those words, I looked back and worried
about my family inside that unlit, haunted house...
with a subdued sob, I agreed to go with him and hear
the story he couldn't tell anyone, thinking he was mad.




Written by Andrew Crisci
for Gail Doyle's contest,
" Stranded Or A Ghost Story Of Your Choice
Any Horror Movie "


Details | Acrostic | |

Love's Reverence, a cover of ''A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky''

Chivalrist of pure intent
Honoured by the ears that lent
A tale recounted to content

Resplendant wonders brought to ear
Laments that draw an unseen tear
Evasion of the heart's deep fear

Soft young mind and placid eyes
Lucid to the tale's disguise
Unseeing the truth behind the lies

There upon the golden water
Wimsically listening to the lauder
Inclines the middle Liddell daughter

Days have come and years have passed
Golden evenings couldn't last
Erosionary time has swept too fast

Dreary dawns and bitter nights
Overcame the muse's might
Dead and gone, that fragile light

Greiving when his heart was tore
Secreted to land of lore
On through Wonderland he'll soar

Now to dream forevermore


Details | Verse | |

Waiting For The Bloodbath (1917)

There, at the parapet, part-built with corpses,
Where we dug out the two year old bones of the French,
Stands on the second rung of the ladder,
The corporal keeping watch from the lip of the trench.

His periscope scans the fields of the wasteland,
Where bodies hang rag-like on coils of barbed wire,
And he watches for movement in no man’s land
By the thump of distant batteries, and the glow of distant fires.

We wait, sipping whiskey with water and sugar,
Smoking Woodbines in hands cupped to guard from the rain,
Supping from tin cans as cold gnaws the marrow,
And the wind from the south howls across the terrain. 

Something may happen, or something may not,
In the ominous silence that floats like black clouds,
The gas gangrene stink of the damp rotting flesh,
Floats the dreadful reeking of old funeral shrouds.

Should they come, we will rush out to greet them,
At least then the waiting will be at an end,
We will rush out to greet them, with whistle and screaming,
With rifle and bayonet, attack and defend.

In waiting we think of life and of home, of all that is holy,
Yet death and abandonment and Satan’s thrall,
Bids there in the future a writer will write
Of innocence wasted, of we who would fall.

Waiting for the signal flare, as comrades have before us,
To be cut to bloody ribbons in the charge into the fray,
Staccato hail of lead mowing men like wheat,
To gain an inch or so of mud and never see another day.

For now, waiting for the bloodbath that itself waits to unfold,
To unleash the will of generals which decree our dreadful fate,
The fears and silent tears, the seconds damned expire,
In the absence of humanity, for all the world we wait. 


Details | Clerihew | |

Antoine Lavoisier

Antoine Lavoisier A pioneer in chemistry in his day. A royal tax collector he was made. He lost his head with a guillotine’s blade.


Details | Sonnet | |

DOOMSDAY ROCK

      Doomsday Rock
In these, our final days before the end,
come in a moment, faster than the eye,
'tis easy to believe, and comprehend
what lies beyond the end, is not to die;

We'll go as one, together to the last,
a world snuffed out, by something closing in,
that's been ten billion years, and coming fast
but we won't see it coming until then;

the speed it flies is something out of dreams,
much faster than a thought, it will be there,
and what we see won't be just what it seems
until the last, we'll see it everywhere.

In this, the end, out of necessity
we'll all believe, then we'll be history.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Lyric | |

Amazing Grace Wash Over Me

A prayer for those who are in dispair along the Gulf Coast due to the BP Deepwater Horizon 
oil rig explosion. A prayer for those who waited and their loved ones did not return, Amazing 
Grace Wash Over Thee.



Amazing grace wash over me.
My tears are a river to the sea.
Lord above, we know you know,
the oil that is washing upon our coast.
Amazing grace wash over me,
and lift my soul up to Thee.
Lord above, hear my prayer,
for those who are in dispair.
Amazing grace wash over me.
I lift my hands to God you see.
My prayer for those who were hurt,
and those who will never return to earth.
Amazing grace wash over thee,
families were left in disbelief.
Empty hands, their loved ones gone,
Lord Jesus, guide them safely Home.
Amazing grace wash over me, 
the oil is filling up the sea, 
from Louisiana to Mississippi.
Animals are dying,
and people are crying.
Amazing grace wash over me.





Details | Rhyme | |

Ideological War of the Worlds

 The coming times can unfold,
far accross to all lands,
the casting shadow has fallen,
with it's far reaching hands,
accross our four cornered world,,
 Humanity progressed to progressive sufferage,
that comes with many names,
the ideology won without a shot,
convinced populations into guilted shame,
lost are voices of courage,,
 The warring world will arise,
between makers and takers,
parasitic ideology's green eyed mind,
re-writing regulations by progressive thinkers,
big brother's utopian great enterprise,,
 Dependent we all become, parasitically,
even forced fed into submission,
by governmental state so enlarged,
numbered you are by institution,
nothing owned, only redistributed cynically,,
 Paupers suffer under progressive fortitude,
soulless programs of living propaganda,
your worth, what you produce,
socialized into this living agenda,
living taxed products of servitude,
           , and then...
 The rise will come independent,
carrying courage and freedom proudly,
with wisdoms weapon in hand,
knowledge in the other soundly,
honor reclaimed by the sentient,,
 Independent declarations germinating from seed,
feared by any progressive regime,
warriors in freedom stand tall,
threatened is the progressive dream,
renewing freedoms that will breed,,
 The liberty that spawned revolution, 
alive from all moral conceptions,
viewed as evil that's progressive,
feared are soulless seeking redemption,
the light of liberty's salvation,,
 Beating freedoms of sentient heart,
the salvation of fighting worth,
a force greater than any darkness,
warriors of liberty step forth,
champions of honor that impart,,
     , next, the final chapter of...
 Ideological war of the worlds,
eye to eye never seen,
the hatred between clearly drawn,
problems with peace to intervene,
the conflict as it unfolds,,
 Coming as thieves of night,
armys on both sides  comes,
fortifying and building societial walls,
truth and lies propaganda welcomes,
armored suited masses to fight,,
 Emerges the lights of honor,
the independent class called defenders,
private elites of character gold,
the shadows behind all pretenders,
opperatives that's far more superior,,
 Defenders are warriors of light,
core beliefs that's solely independent,
religiously organized they never follow,
thorns in a crowned tyrant,
independent wills of great might,,
 They are why freedom thrives,
true leaders leading into tomorrow,
that govern by liberty's will
that invites everyone to follow,
founding fathers of our lives..  


Details | I do not know? | |

AFGHANASTAN WINTER

         AFGHANASTAN  WINTER
The freeze has brought them to a winters' night
they've made themselves, forgetting what is right,
and they can see their children cry
but not a one will reason why,
nor think upon enough to see the light.

There's no repent for killing as it's done
and no resistance to it going on,
just hate on hate that only grows,
the hint of peace that never shows,
with lots of blame, enough for everyone.

And to this chaos, we have paved the way
for men of opportunity to play
and build their fortunes from it all
while winter makes its frigid call,
and brings another dark and longest day.

The heros are not known, til dies are cast
til all has slipped away into the past,
and truth is what a baby hears
but laid to rest in later years,
and right is not defined until the last.
© ron wilson the Doylestown Poet


Details | Blank verse | |

Clouds Follow Stars

Clouds follow stars In filmy coverings of flesh Hope bringing his own content To harbours steeped in everlasting peace. Whither fly the sparrow From your altars buried deep Conflagrations of incense expand there Following before to keep your faltering flight Where will I find The sum of a sparrow lost Floating on strings that through God’s dust will change in pulling her along Hushed the brave sleep And there fulfill their frail song Then will they come to him and fall Helped in each descending stair to rest in peace


Details | Free verse | |

The Sunset Watchers

There was an old sort of people that once took to the beach
These old sort lived the beach and waited for the sunset
They were old as time itself for they never aged
They were of the beach and the beach was of them
They watched every sunset from time began
It was there eyes that made the sunset come and it was there sleep that brought about the night
They forever watched and always kept everyday holy
One day it was late and they were waiting for the sunset
It did not come and they wept
They disappeared into the night and were never seen again


Details | Limerick | |

'Mort Ghlinne Comhann'

A number of centuries ago
In 1692, in a place called Glencoe
      Where a massacre took place
      And the Clan Campbell lost face
When neighbours were sometimes your foe







http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-4.php


Details | Epic | |

A New Collection to the Eye Forest

Crackling blood lies in these forest grounds
Grass growing by its lively effect…
Growing a grimace to the environment    
As the predators hung her on the branches,
carving her left eye on the oak tree
and carving her right eye on the olive tree

They grow livelier…
sucking up the carrions from off the ground
Drowning the vines that try to 
suffocate and remove them for life
left to be in history…unceasingly forgotten 

Now the forest has industrialized into an Eye Forest
Eyes protruding…extorting on the tree trunks
Liquefied by anguish…they had wished to escape
Their pupils punctured by arrows of death 
They grow more affectionate towards the lively soul… 
watching people suffer in indignity and disproof
Here’s that living evidence! Hidden proof!
 
Hunted by the worst predator out there
in the deepest of the forest

The eyes seem to stare into your own
Locked with your frightening vibes 
Feeling your dangling fears and pain 
Weeping them insane…
there is no one out there to be blamed,
even in the deepest of the forest

Oh you carrion heart, soul and body
you are accepted to the collection
and grow insanely and look into a world of reflection

You are one of those who lie in the midst of obscurity 
JUST wait till the day of Resurrection... 

Oh you carrion soul and body 
Surviving through the shadows of the forest, 
roaming along the compacted forest, 
moping about in displeasure 
because without a doubt 
you are a magnificent collection 
to the eye generation 
to look upon a cheerless, remorseful life,
Given away by the predator

They soon diminish the evidence…
Here’s that living evidence! Hidden proof!
You’re left for dead after all

Allow them to spread one of your eyes
on this tantalizing tree
Let them do their job as a hunter
Your awareness is diminished

Allow yourself to not be startled 
Lose yourself,
and later on, you’ll break free of pain and fear


Details | Free verse | |

THE VOICES OF SALEM

Through the whispering pines,
Down the rolling hills,
Beneath the moons illumination,
Hear them calling, the voices of Salem.
From the cold ground, vengeance’s spirits,
Seek justices revenge.
Innocent blood, beseeching the truths,
Knowledge to be told.
Whom are their judges, honest man,
Nay corruptions greedy thieves.
Land mongers, mongrels seeking
To feast upon the down trontan, and poor.
Witches are they, marked by the devils
Own imprint of evil.
Yet in reality simple farming  folk, toiling for
A better life, caught in a webbing of deceits lies.
Be accursed generations whom with hold,
What was done unto them.
For God's wrath shall be swift and without
Mercy.
In the winters solstice, as the season of death
Takes center stage.
Unmarked tomb stones lie disturbed, by
Ghostly images, cryin out for their atonement's
Liberation.
Ancestral names held on bondage’s list,
Without resolutions resolve.
The innocent retain the stains
Of legacy’s branding mark.
The shackles of history, hold these
 Spirits hostage,
Release these souls, dearest lord, most high,
Let the honest know freedoms cleansing air.
Write the wrongs done unto them, 
Let the voices of Salem be silent at last.
To rest in peace forever, along side their
Beloved kindred.
In the sacred earth of their mother church,
With blessings words spoken ever so softly,
Over them.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN



 

 


 


Details | Verse | |

TRIMDON GRANGE EXPLOSION

TRIMDON GRANGE EXPLOSION   *  
( 16 FEB  1882,  DURHAM,  ENGLAND )

Noo March is heor and the wind she’s cowld  *
But the sixty nine sowls divvent feel it   -  strange
Theor noo  wheor they  feel nee  cowld and nivver get owld
Since they gave theor sowls at Trimdon Grange.

Last month on that bad  sixteenth day
Owld   Widow  Burnett went to church to pray
For the  three  fine  sons she once cherished
Noo,  aal  too soon,   they hev  aal  perished

In  thet dusty  pit the  rolleyways worn’t  proper  wattored  *
And in the Harvey Seam -  a thoosand foot doon
And three miles lang   -   that’s   aal  thet  mattored.
The goaves  *   wor filled wi’ gas and the dust wes  aal  around.

They  winnet  be  gannin yem  nee maor  *
Nor scrannin theor supper  o’  pan hagglety *
Nor hengin theor coats yon under the staor
Nor scoffin  theor  bait and sugary  tea

Wor  footbaal  tyem’s  gannin  tiv  miss the  lads
Joseph, Geordie, and James and the fower Broons
We’ll  nivver  forgit what gyems we had
And when we skelped  Hartlepool Toon *

At Durham Big Meetin  as the bands  made a start
And the teams showed  theor  best to the  crood
We were cowpin  wor creels in the clart  *
and  shootin   the odds  o’  Hartlepool  oot  lood.

Oh  weel, they left hame that morning to eorn theor daily bread;
Noo  theor  scrannin  in a place where danger is nee maor.
Sixty nine men and boys wor numbered wi  the dead.
Aye, death will pay us  aal  a visit : they hev  ownly  gone befaor.

…………………………………………………………………………

*       One of the worst coal mining disasters in England

*       The dialect is known as “Geordie” and is still widely known today  in the UK.  It
is the   dialect of my own childhood, sadly now heavily overlain with standard English.

*       Watering kept the explosive dust under control

*        A  goaf was a working gallery in the mine

*        Pan hagglety  -  a  fried mutton dish

*        The  Trimdon Grange soccer team beat Hartlepool’s team the previous year.

*        They won’t be going home any more

*        Doing somersaults on the muddy ground





Details | Rhyme | |

Hang The Witch

She loved big hats
A red bodice she wore
Plumes, bobbles and ribbons galore
This was enough to call her a whore
Many a fight she engaged publicly
But she was no different than you and me
She enjoyed the drink
Entertained late into night
In Puritan society this just wasn't right
She had three husbands
Two had died
Twas wichcraft her accusers cried
Thou be a witch her neighbors declared
At first she was angered
Later quite scared
Her trial commenced without hesitation
I am innocent she claimed
With great indignation
I know not of a witch
Suddenly the girls began to writhe and twitch
They cried and screamed 
Great acting I must say
With this they took poor Bridget away
Upon deaf ears her pleads they fell
Bridget Bishop must go back to hell!
Her naughty behavior and costumes so bold
Helped the Magistrate believe the tales told 
Twas To Satan her soul she had sold
So she would hang by the neck until dead
No one believing a word she said
Soon 18 more would suffer her fate
Once accused was already too late
The Salem Witch trials came to an end
When no one could tell a foe from a friend


Details | Rubaiyat | |

Sinful Are These Ways

If one where to read all human dossiers 
This be the cause of all our sinful ways
If we do not stop all our transgressions
Soon then will be an end to our days


Details | Italian Sonnet | |

VOYAGES OF AN EXTRAORDINARY MAN

He was born in Genoa,
and his mother was Susanna;
and he set sail at the age of fourteen,
to begin a new exploration age!
His father Domenico
gave him inspiration and courage...
while his three brothers:  Giacomo,
Bartolomeo and Giovanni ventured with him
on his long and dangerous voyages,
and accused of many atrocities...
they were sent back to Spain in chains!
A visionary with an extraordinary man's ego, 
followed in the footsteps of Marco Polo...
and in his final days, he died a disappointed man! 


 
 
 


Details | ABC | |

firing squad

i feel the darkness surround me, 
i know what fate lies ahead,
i sense the fear take over me,
i know i will soon be dead,

i hear the ground beneath me,
i know i must face my end,
i sense the guns select me,
their bullets my only friend,

the darkness is drawn from me,
and the light forced in my face,
i see the rifles before me,
my body now frozen in space,

i see my life spread out before me,
i see my oncoming end,
i hear the triggers pulled for me,
a bullet, the message they send,

i felt the darkness surround me,
their sights locked to my head,
i no longer have fear inside me,
my body now lies dead.


Details | Lyric | |

FAITH KEEPS US APART

It seems the path Iam on  is changing everyday
the road uncertain just an endless shapeless gray
some would say it would all be clearer if I took up there religion
even with the doubt Iam not scared enough for that decision

I see the faith you placed in one of the many saviors
I lame excuse for the centuries of mad behavior
Iam sure your prophets where the very best of man
but your church and bibles where never in the plan

so every race has a version of there own
stories stolen from the gods of the past spoken out like it was always known
not one of these faiths is open and understanding
they keep others down and your soul churches are demanding

then you history holds no science no enlightenment
dogmatic foolishness written before free government
and every soul that is afraid to die or to ashamed to live
if you stop thinking then heaven is what they give

even now the human mind is found wanting
but reality is intelligence is hard work and life is daunting
if only the concept of good will and love
we understood without some sign from above

if you need the ancient fiction to ease your pain
I respect you and to all other men you should do the same
your saviors were righteous there’s know doubt
in there time they worship but no church was there twist whets its about

there have been many Christ’s since the beginning of man 
the Mayans and Muslim have had tales since they ruled by the roman
dry king ghandi and many more sacrifice there life so others could be free
in my mind that’s what Jesus is what he is supposed to be

even know there some man of great worth he has no money no powerful church
he’s  giving of himself and and loving the lost I dare you to search 
and see the truth were in this together and this is paradise
we are the only keepers of our fate we must realize

I can no longer people pay to pray and talk down to others who dont believe what you say
but Christ himself did not hang with the saved he knew the hopeless so he could see them ok
but times have changed were not ruled by religious empires mad with slavery
we fought for those rights not with one mans good with collective human bravery

a new age is upon us and the true test is coming not one of prophecy
the makers of worlds the stars the cycle of suns chaos of the galaxy
I hope soon we see are only time is now there is no second chance
are race needs to come together  and make a united stance
if faith keeps us apart do we even have the heart



Details | I do not know? | |

"Tastes Like band-aids"2/18/09

breathing. it hurts, what do, i do  
what (wait) till death, and i wonder 
why the air taste like band-aids 
open the window, but it make me cough even harder
stand in a straight line soldier!
I tell myself, don't you dare cry~ 
and it still tastes like band-aids 
potions made of poison, filling my home 

i can feel the tighten around my head 
and my heart is moving with fear~ 
I jump too everything i hear
and it still tastes like band-aids...


aka:lyricvixen


Details | ABC | |

the wall is high

i jump to meet my mark,
it is met with arms out wide,
nothing, yet i expect a spark
so in little black book i confide.

what i ask of the masses, alot
admittedly ashamed i am not
to think, rejoice, connect the dots
to remember what we once forgot.

all i ask i that we don't assume,
they rely on ignorance to consume,
open your eyes and take full bloom,
never take an uninformed flume,

i see too much trouble ahead to ignore,
when i opened my eyes we had ten years,
i am still coming round and now we have four,
i see too much blood that will mix with my tears.

everything will mingle and change
it will all make sense once done
its just right now, its beyond our perceptive range
and to elaborate on the story no fun.

for certain synchronocities will take form
the knowledge unwraping in the implicate
it may not always be blatent, but hidden in the norm
some could term it karma, i make my own fate.


Details | Blank verse | |

Fallen Heroes

You remember fallen heroes who died in
 the first and second world wars
Fighters were united and fought above
 political, tribal and racial grounds
Brought forth peace and freedom 
 which we enjoy
Hence, do not water down their efforts
 and encourage unneccessary wars
Preserve peace and pray against 
 rumours of wars
Caananites were conquered 
 due to their undesirable mentality
To the Almighty and surrounding
  nations
Israelites were engaged into battlefieLd
 to get rid of enemies
Israelites acted well in repelling enemies
 and did not sit with hands crossed when faced
 by attacks 
and enemies that came within range
  were slain
Actually ISRAEL of old defended civilians and their
 property from harm and danger
Nowadays appetite for new disputes have
 sparked latest surge in violence
Mostly the essence of war is over 
 trivial matters
Escalation in tensions among nations is  
 an going phenomena

DAILY:In military labs creating various kinds
 of fixed, mobile,  tactical
 long-range radars and roadside bombs,
automatic rifles and airborne electronic surveillance
 systems,unmanned aircraft, missiles 
and artillery systems, mortars and rockets;
FOR MASS DESTRUCTION-KILLING INNOCENT PEOPLE:
 killing civilians in aerial and ground bombardments__
  and luck ones fleeing the most appalling persecutions 
    and bloodshed!


chipepo lwele
*Dedicated to fallen heroes


Details | Free verse | |

King Of The Hill

<                                               Vietnam War
                                              Capture of Saigon


                                               What The Hell For


                                                   Guerrilla war

                                                 Conventional war


                                                 What The Hell For

                                                       
                                                       Laotians
                                                    Cambodians
                               
                                                     Vietnamese
                                                    U.S.  Soldiers 
                  

                                                     Casualties


                                                 What The Hell For


My Thoughts On 
The Vietnam War


May All R.I.P.




                                                         

                                                       


Details | Blank verse | |

Mass Graves

There isn't a mass grave in my neighborhood
a creek has never flooded
(there is no creek, after all)
and bones have not surfaced.

A bulldozer never grinds to a halt
stayed by a smiling white skull.
The driver doesn’t jump down
doesn’t sift through the remains
kneeling there on the plot.

I once found a grey limb
jutting out from a hill.
I hoped it was a bone
maybe a femur from yore,
the last limb of a virulent Ute
protecting his home—
built by him
with his arms and legs
with the tools of the plains.

His scalp no more,
his skin long gone
but the bone remaining
still staking claim
for the living and free.

But it wasn’t a bone—
it was a tree limb
because there aren’t graves in my neighborhood.
There aren’t even real trees
or game trails;
there aren’t survivors
or failures
let alone corpses and fleas
And the only war left to fight
is against omnipresent me.


Details | Clerihew | |

Bloody Mary

King Henry VIII ‘s daughter, Bloody Mary This evil queen’s mission, England’s Protestants to bury Never at night did she wake After a day yelling, “Burn him at the stake!”
* I wanted to use "off with his head" but could find no historical evidence she ever used this phrase. Only in Alice in Wonderland!


Details | Narrative | |

Knighted

I kneel on the dusty battlefield,
my eye catches a glint of the tarnished sword.
The glint blinds me, my mind 
fills itself with memories from long before.

I, a young boy, am riding on a youthful pony.
My body trembles with this new wonder,
as the pony’s smooth gait prompts me 
to kick its sides, increasing speed…

Next, I, the adolescent esquire, follow my mentor loyally 
into this new, brutal land 
where bloodshed is common,
beyond the shelter of the castle…the battlefield.  
The sight of men at other’s mercy chills me. 

Arrows pierce the ill willed,
as they fall like salty tears onto
the blood-stained earth. 

Yet I know my duty is to serve another,
older and wiser than I.
This harsh land haunts me as I refill
my mentor’s quiver of arrows
and adjust the gleaming helmet upon his head.  

My visions of the past clear like a herd of untamed horses, 
my eyes beseech my mentor. 
His worn gaze tells of the many battles he has fought, 
but wisdom shines in his eyes.

The sword taps my shoulder, 
like the touch of a seraph of heaven.
He claps my shoulder, 
as if to remind me of the dark times ahead.

“You, young man, are my equal,”
said he, “upon this field your courage 
has proved your worthiness-a noble 
knight you shall be.” 

The coward in my heart screams for redemption,
yet this new being-the knight-in my spirit
raises me to my feet 
and takes me back to the castle, where
good times-along with brutal-await.  


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghost of Bayou Cannot

Some folks believe it. Others do not. The legend told in the Bayou Cannot. The only witness who can swear that it's true, are the creatures who live in the bayou. The owl told the gator, the gator told the frog, about the horror filled night that changed their home in the bog. Far off on the mainland, miles from the marsh, in a large city, where living is harsh. A man's world invention sprang into life. A breath of fresh air to man's world of strife. A new deisel engine, queen of the line, would make it run for the very first time. The sunset limited it was aptly named. Gleamed in the station waiting its moment of fame. Boarded by folks going south, some headed out west, none mindful of anything, but each's own quest. New York to L.A. via the southern run. So it was, the trip had begun. Back in the bog, things were happening too. A barge made its way north with its captain and crew. The day had been hot. The night had turned cool. The fog roiled in, with its blanket of dew. The captain steered his tug, painfully slow, caution was key to safely deliver the tow. All of a sudden there was a scrape and a jolt the barge floated free, not held by a bolt. Panic seized the crew! "We've lost the tow!" "MAYDAY!" screamed the captain over the radio. Amid the chaos and moans of disdain, another great jar, "We've got it again!". Back on land not far down the track the Limited sped with a clickety-clack. Approaching the tressel no one noticed the shake. Who could blame the poor folks; the hour was late. Midway over the bayou came the tressels demise. A great shiver another great quake, tons of speeding steel, folks met their sad fate. Days went by weary and sad. Rescuers agreed none worked a wreck this bad. Twisted and bent the engine was pulled from the muck and the slime. "102" came the final count, the coroner spoke and noted the time. A weary voice shouted "Wait!" "Sir, I disagree!" Tired eyes turned, what did they see? A weary man held in his arms a child about three. Today believers say "an angel wanders." "A tiny spirit" Others agree. On foggy nights when no moon can be. A tiny light flickers so you will see. "It's a firefly!" Say the skeptics of haunt. The creatures disagree and murmur their taunt. They know the spirit of the child now lives in their swamp.

Written by my grandmother Sandra Burch


Details | Choka | |

Thumbs Up second version

My name is Gundar
Bey School of Gladiators
Trained me for the arena
I chose my weapon
I picked the net and triton
Best, as I’m agile and fast
Tomorrow I fight
I live without any friends
Never know who I must kill
They serve me a feast
The women will come tonight
They try to make me happy
No desire to fight
Either I fight or I die
Can I out last the others?
It makes no matter
If I’m the last one standing
The lions will still be waiting
A thumb’s down and I die
As they unleash the Lions
Thumbs up, fight another day


Details | Ballad | |

Hannibal

Good listener, please lend your ear
To share my history
Before I take the poison drink,
I’ll tell you my story.

They’re coming even now to take
The city that we love
And hope is often lost and so
My tale i’ll tell you of.
	
	When Carthage took upon itself
To find by light of day
A general? Well your in luck!
Great Hannibal did say.

He planned to cross the mountains great
Twas thought the only way,
But first to cross the river Rhone,
Great Hannibal did pray

The river Rhone rose up and warned
	Don’t cross my waters grey!
	No way to cross? Then all was lost
	Great Hannibal did say

	Then at once stood Hannibal
	We’ll cross by th’end of day!? 	Take down those trees to make a raft
	Great Hannibal did say 

	Over the water blue they went
	Lined up in an array
	And now to Rome and battle great!
	Good Hannibal did say.
	
Due north he found an obstacle
	That willed him to give way,
	The northern tribes with battle cries
	Great Hannibal did slay.

	The biggest problem now was here
	Across the mountains stray
	“Great danger now we face, my men,”
	Great Hannibal did say.

	Across the mountains none did think
	That they would last a day
	Just one more hill or mountain top,
	Great Hannibal would say

	The crew were weary lost and torn
	That made them curse the day
	“But we are almost there, you see?”
	Great Hannibal did say.	

	And soon enough the walls of Rome
	Rose up as if to say
	Who ventures here with war in mind?
	Come greet us at our gates!

	But in the Roman city there
	Scipio here to stay
	“No one can beat us, no one can,”
	Great Hannibal did say.

	At Rome’s great gates for 15 years
	He waited patiently
	We can’t stay here, for food is dear,
	Great Hannibal did say.

	So he turned back to Carthage’s gates
	But met along the way
	Scipio and his army great
	Hannibal could not slay

	When all was done his quest was lost,
	And Rome would live too great,
	A treaty signed so punishing
	That Carthage lost its gate.

	And Hannibal the general
	That lost the city too
	Was forced to go to lands beyond
	And help as best he could.


Details | Epic | |

The Beast

This is an epic tale I shall unwind
Of a beast born to keep us blind
He lives in a time not to far away
This is a present yarn I spin today
All the worlds countries united as one
Lost in the plight of one mothers son
The Anti-Christ risen to the mark of the beast
As the entire world blindly sits down for the feast
Crime is defeated there is peace in the land
Just take the bar code to the back of your hand
Long before this day the story was told
Who is the King he who holds all the Gold
I often contemplate if he knows what he does
For all that is written shall be as it was
Solve all the worlds problems well know this as true
If you seek an answer your computer gives it to you
The entire world is at the tip of your fingers
No need to go out just stay here and linger
Banking from here flashes up on the screen
You'll have more time to ponder and dream
So you wish to shop let me offer some sites
Pay with a number it'll be shipped overnight
Stop to consider the old word Foundation
Join with the rich to feed every nation
No need to worry there is nothing to chance
Just sit at your computer lost in my trance
The old ways diminished the world is new
If you're seeking love the computer finds it for you
If your not seeking love it offers you lust
For pleasing everyone is truly a must
It's entered our factories as well as our stores
Hell it's even taken over our wars
Crime will be defeated by the watchful eye
As another satellite takes to the sky
Without the Honor of war there is no need to fight
War machines controlled by the beast of the night
I treasure the stories, the stories of old
Where brave men fought with hearts of gold
When the keeper of dreams was our Lord
And to kill a man you made the sword
When marriage was Till death do us part
Parents nourished and protected their children's hearts
When family's were like the limbs of a tree
Spreading no further than they needed to be
With those days gone and all but forgot
The Souls of man has started to rot
Before long as men sit down to feast
They will offer thanks unto the beast
Science is driven know this is true
To reason all the faith out of you
They teach our children we evolved from a cell
Can you see how far our country has fell
As the Beast sits back with his evil grin
Having faith in the Lord has become a sin
As God is removed from the allegiance we say
Well exactly who do our leaders follow today
Oh thats right we are all seeking gold
As the story of the beast starts to unfold




© 2007 Michael Jordan


Details | Free verse | |

Shores of Malta

Rhythmic swaying of peaceful waves
Tides align with the influential moon,
Lapping gently on wave-beaten shores
Of frothy seaweed and golden limestone.
Dazzling, too-blue-to-believe waters
Mirrored in the bright afternoon,
Eroded shores ancient with history
Keeping its secrets of thousands of mysteries.
Within honeyed walls that echo through time
Are whispers of old that try to be heard by modern age man,
Who is so out of tune and his instincts low,
Not keyed to the earth.
Age-worn battles of power abide
Never realising that they’re against the tide,
For the Earth surely in its finest hour, will win its opponent in war,
And seal them in through Earth’s activity.
A very good and fitting cemetery.


Details | Senryu | |

Afterwards

The button now pressed ¬~ In modern melted mould, we ~¬~ now die, a spent race ¬~ http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-7.php


Details | I do not know? | |

MLK - 1929 - 1968

MLK...
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)


they shot you down
all those years ago

but

your dream lives on
and always will

for though much has been
gained since you dreamed
your dream

there is much to fight for
and much more to struggle for

and much, much more
to fight for still

so
your dream resounds in
our hearts and we pledge 
this to you today
for though they shot you down
all those years ago on a memphis day
we shall overcome
this we do believe
deep in our hearts
that
we shall overcome
someday...


(for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)


Details | Rispetto | |

My Icy Grave

My name is Paul, a boy of sixteen years when the Titanic became my icy grave. To the ocean floor, I drowned with dreams and fears, like my dad, a fisherman, lost in the waves. When we boarded the ship, my mother heard cries. A premonition dismissed with hopes and sighs. In a half-empty lifeboat, denied a seat, my destiny to die but not in defeat. Mother begged for my life then returned to die with me. Half empty lifeboats floated as the band played a hymm. Angels descended on mother and son in the cold sea and carried us to my father in Heaven's bosom. By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, April 10, 2012 for My Heart Will Go On and On contest ( Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver) Fourth Place *A Rispetto and a Quatrain


Details | Couplet | |

The Nightmares

Nightmares that come are so bad I'm  afraid to sleep
Exhaustion enters making sleep needs reach their peak

A little light sleep to settle down falling falling deeply sound
The horror no no go away nightmares please dissipate

Same dreams every night since my darling baby cried
She nursed, very well fed in the morning she died

Nightmares night afer night awaking my baby I dread
Being rocked, rocked, rocked, looking down my baby's dead



(My adoptive mother lost a child, a little girl at age nine months old.  Back then people used 
home remedies very seldom saw a doctor.  The child had been sick with a cold, mother fed 
her and the next morning she was dead.  The  doctor who examined  the corpse said that 
she had had pneumonia and choked to dead on the mucous.)


Details | Free verse | |

Camille

Wake up to find its not just a dream, 
the morning rips a new wound of reality. 
Forever gone, Forever missing, 
All the regrets building up inside of me. 
I could have been better, 
cause you were the best, 
I love you with everything 
now you took your last breath. 
You went, happily 
and chased the birds over that rainbow bridge, 
I hope your watching from above c
ause when you left you took a part of my heart

...RIP My Beautiful Puppy. I Love You Camille Baby?


Details | Verse | |

The Twisted Fate Of Mankind.

The world will stand united on a day we’ll all remember,
The destruction and devastation on the 11th of September.
Nations torn apart, by the tragic loss of lives,
Tormented, tortured people sent to their graves up in the skies.

Madness caused by people, who believe that they are right,
But if they serve their God, surely he doesn’t want them to fight.
The oldest story left to man, the one by God we’ve written,
Gives us hope and courage, and something to believe in.

Surely these fanatics can see they don’t make sense,
They’ve twisted their beliefs form what they originally meant.
Which leads us back again, to ask the question why?
If we follow our chosen religions, then why must people die?

©.L.Kelly


Details | Sonnet | |

Robert Michum 7-1-97 Jimmy Stewart 7-2-97 Charles Kuralt 7-4-97

         ROBERT MITCHUM-----7/1/97
          JIMMY STEWART-----7/2/97
           CHARLES KURALT------7/4/97
On lifes long road, who knows where are the ends
and when the ones we love leave us alone
what words express the loss of dearest friends
held oh! so dear, whom all the world has known?

Was this their highway junction to all time?
Our grief would be too great for only one,
and three together taken, shouldn't rhyme
but brings reality now that they're gone.

Out on the road, with Charlie, Bob and Jim,
we see ourselves in all they've ever done,
as memories, some bright and others grim,
from reel to reel, and love them every one.

They told our stories, every one was real,
as if they knew exactly how we feel.
               God Speed, My Friends
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Free verse | |

Hangman

Each day another timber
Was set in place.
Letters were spoken,
Read in streets, understood-
Against Jacob's children
Until the gallows were finished.
The builder's own neck
Was fitted with the rope.


Details | Lanterne | |

Worshiping Vanities

             Death
         All whom
         Do not glow
    Their light within
              Dies


Details | Blank verse | |

Don't Panic

Here we rest on the
Dream. Hoping for a safe
Voyage to our new home. The 
Room itself has more of us in it
Then I care to count.

We won it, so we're here
On our way to the promised
Land. Once there, I know my
Family will finally be
Safe.

She's deemed unsinkable,
It's all we hope for as we 
Hide from the rich in the belly
Of the beauty. But if we did
Sink, would we survive?

Uimh-- No. Mustn't think
Of the dark. She will keep 
My family safe. But, one could 
Only hope to see the ocean we
Glide upon. 

She trembles when I hear 
The noise that no one
Wanted to hear. She's 
Going to fall, but we're told
"Don't Panic".

"Don't Panic!" She's still
Moving. I breathe deeply 
Hoping that it will be okay.
That my family will reach 
America.

Minutes pass, seconds fly,
The floor that was dry before
Is now wet with the Ocean's tears. 
He cries for his love that
He's hurt.

I take a hold of my children
And we slowly walk up the stairs,
Keeping calm, 
Only to be stopped by a 
Gate.

They were only going 
To save the rich. We were 
Forgotten. No longer is she a 
Promise, but she's my family's 
Death.

I lean into the gate,
Trying to see if I can
Break something loose as 
The water moves up around
Us.

Finally, I look at
My children's terrified 
Faces. Taking my hands,
We sit at the stairs, singing
Until we die.


Details | Senryu | |

Lost Forever

Casey Anthony--
found not guilty, yet her child
is lost forever


Details | Free verse | |

Wanderer

A dusty old town-so quiet
a man, a traveler
takes off his pack-so heavy
and reclines for a rest.

they dont know his name, they never do
they wont even bother to ask
he troubles them-his mysterious past
leads them to prejudiced views

but were one to ask, for if naught but a name
what would this traveler say- would he speak?
a word, no. a name, he would give them and pass
"Im Wanderer, the world is my street."

Wanderer-what a name
does it signify much of his life
or is it a code- a cypher?
an enigma to his past.



Details | Bio | |

The Death of Saddam Hussein

It's been a long time since Saddam Hussein was executed by the Arab authorities and the U.S. Armed Forces (the U.S. Army, the U.S. Navy, the U.S. Coast Guard, and the U.S. Air Force). This guy had been terrorizing the entire Arabian nation since the Cold War and Operation: Desert Storm. Saddam had been torturing people for no reason and chopping up his victims limb by limb. The Arabians and the Americans are glad that Saddam Hussein's dead, especially for what he did to these people, even his wife.  It seems that he had pure hatred toward other people, including us Americans. Saddam was responsible for the deaths of all innocent Iraqi's citizens. the loser was also responsible for starting the war games in Iraq and stuff. Mr. Hussein was the President of Iraq until he was captured by the U.S. Armed Forces and the then-President of the United States of America George W. Bush. Saddam Hussein was just like Osama Bin Laden, even when that guy killed all of the U.S. citizens in New York City on Tuesday, September 11, 2001. And because of Hussein and Bin Laden, the United States of America had lost its innocence, even since 9/11. Not only was Saddam Hussein a gutless coward, but on top of all that, he was also a womanizing cheater and a heartless assassin, too, as well. But now that this human-killing, soulless, heartless Neanderthal has been executed for starting war games, terrorizing unexpected citizens of Iraq, and killing the men because they couldn't get jobs, go to school, or whatever (good riddance), the Iraqis back in 2004 had moved on with their lives. and not only is Saddam Hussein dead, but Osama Bin Laden is also dead. And as far as the Iraqis, the U.S. Armed Forces, and the U.S. citizens are concerned, the giant Pit of Inferno is exactly where they belong. We all wish Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden, and other terrorists had never been born.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Eternal Sigh

The Eternal Sigh I feel like my life is an exercise in futility I'm just going to die anyway Whoever will remember me After my children's children pass away? Perhaps it is better off That time erase the stains it makes Not that it even matters The kids won't learn from your mistakes No one cares if you grow old Life is learning of your defeat Continuing, while containing the cold The past is doomed to repeat


Details | Quatrain | |

Imagine You're There

Close your eyes and imagine you're there
You're naked and shaved as they stand and stare
Watching your loved ones herded away
As you await your fate, it's their lies that say

Earlier that day we disembarked from the train
We're in a place called Auschwitz in the pouring rain
An unfamiliar smell hangs in the air
This feeling I get, is of total despair

We enter a building where clothes and shoes lie in mounds
On the periphery of me I hear screaming sounds
Families, fathers mothers daughters and sons
In our Hebrew tongue, why are we the chosen ones

We exit this building and enter another
Where we are told to remain calm and await our shower
No water is felt as the quietness delivers
Motionless some lie, as I await my deathly shiver


Details | Rhyme | |

A Soldiers Salute

Bombs keep on falling
Bullets keep flying
No matter how brave
Our soldiers are dying

Held in their trenches
Under the rain
With photos of families
Mixed memories and pain

Marching through fields
Thinking of home
And if there'll ever be peace
On our troublesome dome

Beyond the horizon
They hope for the door
To enter their home
And behind leave the war

Wives all indoors
Thinking the worst
Individually hoping
Not to be cursed

Hoping for peace
Through the flight of a dove
Praying to God
The safe return of their love

One minute of silence
Is what they may say
Though it seems not enough
For the price they do pay

Love, Thanks and Respect
Seems the only way
To salute our brave soldiers
On their remembrance day.


Details | I do not know? | |

Rage war

These lines we draw,
our shadows we cast,
War is declared.
Death is born


Details | Blank verse | |

It'll Be Okay

Hold my hand, don't ever let go
close your eyes, it'll save you from
the war we're in. Innocence doesn't matter.
Can you smell the burning embers?

Cling to me, I'll protect you.
The horrors surrounding us won't
Taint you no matter how hard they
try i promise.

I scream and you cry. It's just another day on the train,
Cold and starving, surrounded
by others dressed in filth.

Death's perfume rest in
The air. Filling our lungs
Making it so hard to breathe.
"It'll be okay"

My hands cover your ears
in hope that the others' tears
wont haunt your dreams too.
Can you smell the burning embers??

In the distance, I hear
Their orders. Slowly,
The crowd moves
Taking you from me.

Our fingers cling to each other
As dirty tears slip down our faces.
They come and rip you away.
There's nothing I can do.


a number is put on my arm.
Have they branded you the way they
Did me?? All of us are
Treated like we're parasites

My dignity is destroyed
when they force me to take
off my clothes. I cry again
When cold water splashes Me

Herded with the others,
I try to find you but
to no avail. My head hangs
When i realize that I'm alone

Days and weeks pass.
Night is the worst, the
cold cuts into me like
a knife through butter.

a light shone into my eyes
forces me awake. They grab me
from the ground and
push me into a room.

Again, they take away my
rags. Naked, I'm forced into
A small room with
Showerheads.

Fingers touch my shoulder,
I turn to see you and shout
with happiness as we embrace.
The showers turn on.

Your eyes water and
I cough. It's suddenly
hard to breathe. we
cling togetger and cough.

around us, others
are falling. together,
we collapse. I smile.
"It'll be okay."


Details | Rhyme | |

Vietnam Wall

The black wall reflected my white-washed skin 
and disheveled jacket, above the chattering din...
Loosly lopsided glasses hang limply on my face,
Cold, dark, black, they somehow seemed to fit this place. 
The smooth memorial seemed to stretch on,
Longer than death itself;a banner, a chord, an unsung hero's song.

                               ...

Memories race through my unsettled mind, 
The dense rainforest reverberates right behind...
Exploding artillery, I see several comrades fall down.
They lay moaning or silently still on the densely foliaged ground.
Like tin soldiers, “Playing dead,” I force myself to believe 
Trying to dam the tide of fear, for death is all I see.
“Will, help!" a young and bloodied soldier calls to me.

Hands gruffly grabbed my shoulder; I meet my commander’s steely eyes,
Torn, bruised, and bloody... I could see he wasn't surprised.
“We won’t survive with extra baggage. Retreat to the copter, now!” 
He hollered hollowly, his featured in a ragged, downcast bow.

Pondering quickly: Die a hero? Or forever regret today? 
Without a hesitation, I hoisted that young man up right away.
He seemed light, until I picked up another, fallen on the beaten path.
The odds were all against me; flying bullets unfurled their wrath.
Lifting yet another, I wrapped him silently around my tired arm.
The day I died, two comarades were saved and taken away from harm.

                               ...

And for a single breathless moment, I thought that I had seen myself,
In the teary-eyed man reading these lost names all by himself.
Now and forever, my name will be a simple written sprawl. 
An etching in a stone, a memoir to this black unyielding wall.


Beth Watkins
3/7/11
~Dedicated to those heroes who have died to defend our freedom.~


Details | Rhyme | |

Salem

The roar of voices became muted,
consumed by the beating of her heart. 
Her eyes are wide in fright,
her life has hardly begun to start.

Yet here she is, 
small bruised body tied to the stake.
Nobody will believe her,
that this punishment is a mistake. 

Her parents won't even look her way,
as tears well in her eyes.
Even they think she's a monster,
her own parents fell for the lies.

'Mommy, Daddy!' she cried
'you can't let them burn me!'
But they stared at the ground,
just wishing they could flee.

The fire was lit,
her dress hem caught flame.
Her parents ignored her screams, 
they stood exactly the same.

The crowed chanted 'witch!',
as the six year old burned.
Again, they killed an innocent,
and again, showed no concern.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

THE URGES OF WEEPING

by Andrew Crisci  
 

Bitter tears drip from my red pupils like incandescent, hot lava
erupting from a volcano to appease the urges of weeping; 
and do I mourn for myself, or for the poor, innocent, persecuted,
misunderstood and unloved? Will this cry of injustice change anything?
Will the oppressor be softened by them or remain vile?
It's very rare that pretentiousness turns into consciousness,
revealing all the faults that make one a persona ingrata;
why is human pride such a tempting desire to own everything,
to destroy what was built with stamina leaving no footprints? 
What will be said about an era which did not prosper and shine?
Who will write the testimony books, if not those inspired?
Take the written word away, and the darkness will definetely return!
Dante and Shakespeare did their part in divulging it: you do yours! 
Yesterday's world was a menacing shadow oblitering all knowledge;
the masses were ignorant, but some fervently sought education 
through the favor of Kings and Queens, not ignoring the urges of weeping
that came from poverty and unvoiced thoughts that couldn't be expressed;
yes, the above-mentioned Rainassance poets did succeed in their quest!
What disturbs me is the absence of fairness and equality in our times,
even  murderers can be acquitted for reason of insanity..they take a life
so sacred and useful in scopes beyond comphrension and imagination;
how wratful God must be over the decision of a lenient, or corrupt judge!
And what outrages me is the heartlessness of mothers that want obortion,
or leave the new-borns in trash bins, or on sidewalks...not even 
on a church's steps to be spotted by passerbys who will come to their rescue;
and sadly they will die without knowing the urges of weeping as we do. 
How cruel and lawless is Man ruling the earth without the concept of humaness!
And what does He care if they live in squallor and are denied happiness?
All He desires is riches, admiration and comfort over the urges of weeping! 


Entered in Michael J. Falotico's contest, 
" Sounds Of A Cry "


Details | Verse | |

YOU CALLED ME COLOURED

I born, I blak.
I grow up, I become blak.
I see, I blak.
In the sun, I blak.

I scared, I blak.
I sick, I blak.
If I die, I will become blak.

Rotten I blak.
And You white fellow,
you born, you pink.
You grow up, you become white.

You go in the sun, you red.
You cold, you blue.
You scared, you yellow.
You sick, you green.

When you die, you gray.
And you called me coloured!
Black is ebony not attificial.
And you called me black.

whites and Blacks  come together,
the voice of apathied is crying 
In the grave,calling on
unity in diversity.


Details | I do not know? | |

Black Oil and Green Money

how could there ever be justification for murder in war...
rational function of hatred, so unsacred
my patience exist no more...
a theory that contradicts the so called sanctity of life. 
explosions from soldiers as they mascarade through the night. 
left without a trace, no name on an absent face..simply collateral, a victim to the 
concept of an aryan race. 
extremist zealots leaving religion disgraced.
Dispite a thousand miles traveled we are still moving in place.
a motionless pace...
the notion replaced by emotionless hate...the focus is so irrate...
still we're choosing political fakes, 
hacks that choose corporations over the citizens taste. 
it is such a disgrace...we just sit back with a conformist smirk on our face? 
which only serves to disguise the lies, which allows us to close our eyes.. make 
donations which serves to expose our pride...
sunday morning repentants, moans, cries....my child you are forgiven, cleansed 
and baptized. 
and rest in slumber. 
forget the land with the restless summer, forget the others... we aint got ish 
invested in them numbers.
if you a child of the sun, much respect cause you are my brother
120,000 dead...god bless their mothers
yet, still i salute, young minds victimized as troops, 
he internalize american pride as truth. pride that serves to hide the hell that he 
once went through...
no job no dignity, just an option or two, hit the block slang drugs, or a political 
prostitute.
the ladder provides benefits so its so hard to resist...he sold his soul for the 
bargain...for he understood that the block was no place for his child to 
exist..........................
-------------------------------------------
promised land filled with milk and honey, borders explode for black oil and green 
money


Details | Free verse | |

Ol' Sea Snake's Carriage Ride

Ol' Sea Snake's Carriage Ride

Cobblestones wobble and rock the carriage, 
as I circle these streets with Blue Bits and 
Derby Boy on this vibrant morning.
 
With the sun on my back and  a salty gale brushing 
by, my spirits soar as I imagine what the day will bring.
 
People come from all over to tour this city, 
and soak up it's history and scenic views.
 
Why not climb aboard my carriage and take 
a brisk ride with me on this beautiful day?
 
As we trot through the historic district, I'll 
tell you some of our most scandalous folklores
and show you their shocking locations, 
like Copper Moon Ridge, where pirates once 
dressed as dames to steal their first good swig 
of America's finest moonshine.
It's still pretty darn good!
 
You'll see the towering cliff views of our granite 
lighthouse, whose menacing design has weathered 
decades of the ocean's pounding tides. 
 
We'll squeeze in time to feed the beached seals basking 
in the sun or catch a rare glimpse of  the orca whales 
playing in our bay.
 
 
If romance is your desire, I'll tool you around  in the moonlight,
to our brightest vistas that magnify the star's diamond twinkles.
 ...Perfect for capturing your lover's passion-heart.
I'll even take a long stroll, just to assure you of your privacy. 
 ...Gentleman's honor, I won't take a peek!
 
If it's fish and chips you seek, we'll head over to 
Smacky-Bud's Mackerel Shack for the tastiest fish around.
But I'll be up front with you, don't feed any to Derby n' Bits 
or it'll be a long ride back.
 
So jump aboard and take a ride with this Ol' Sea Snake,
while there's still time.
I'm not getting any younger!
 
You day-trippers spend too much of your weekly grind 
in your lackluster cars.
 
Come, sit back and unwind for a short time.
I'll sweep you back to the golden age of enchantment, 
when hearts would mysteriously merge on a slow-trotting 
carriage ride.  Memories like these could last you a lifetime!


Details | I do not know? | |

Hamba Kahle, Comandante Chavez

Hamba Kahle*, Comandante Chavez!

The light may have gone out from your eyes, Comandante,
but the torch you lit,
remains ablaze.

You may have passed away from this mortal life, Comandante,
but you have passed on,
your immortal ideals.

Today our hearts are heavy with sorrow, Comandante,
yet you left our hearts so much heavier,
with hopes of a more just tomorrow.

The light may have gone out from your eyes, Comandante,

but you live!

You live!


Hasta la Victoria Siempre, 

Comandante!


Hugo Rafael Chavez Frias (1955 - 2013)


* - "Hamba Kahle" means "go well" in Zulu


Details | Tanka | |

Buried Cries

heard beneath rubble cries from a buried woman so many were lost when the Twin Towers tumbled foggy haze fell on New York rescuers, heroes many joined in the effort indestructible -- the feeling that we once knew -- vulnerable now in grief


Details | Ballad | |

A Question of Honor

Dedicated to Noor Al-Maleki You Try, You Try so hard To put Your will Over Me But I will Remain Free I am So Dirty and So Very Unclean So Please Condemn me Sentence Me The Crescent Is A Lie The One I shall Try To Defy Is it Just To Dispose What Has Dishonored You and Your Radical Views You Have set me Free, Can't You See I Won't have to face a Tyrant anymore Your gaze used to Stun But Now It Just Burns Under the Sun Never Enough to Be Myself Never Enough to Be Free I will not Bow to You I will not Kneel Before You Smothering Liberty Condoning Freedom This way is unjust This way only brings out our worse Hatred and Mistrust War and malice no know law You Try, You Try so hard to put Your will Over Me But I will Remain Free I am So Dirty and So Very Unclean So Please Condemn me Sentence Me The Crescent Is A Lie The One I shall Try To Defy Is Just To Dispose What Has Dishonored You and Your Radical Views I am The Flame you Greatly Hate I am The Flame you greatly fear Some cannot handle the truth It shows they are the Criminals You are one of them You're the problem This misdeed will not live on without the hate of your name Honor Is not real It's just an emotion that only you feel You're another bulwark Against the truth No one Will Bow No one Will Kneel You Try, You Try so hard to put Your will Over Me But I will Remain Free I am So Dirty and So Very Unclean So Please Condemn me Sentence Me The Crescent Is A Lie The One I shall Try To Defy Is it Just To Dispose What Has Dishonored You and Your Radical Views You Fear The Truth You Fear the reality you are the criminal against all humanity We must end these lies Before Honor Will Strike again You Try, You Try so hard to put Your will Over Me But I will Remain Free I am So Dirty and So Very Unclean So Please Condemn me Sentence Me The Crescent Is A Lie The One I shall Try To Defy Is it Just To Dispose What Has Dishonored You and Your Radical Views


Details | Free verse | |

Shadows in Candlelight

Feeble and hunched over
his movement stumbles
as shuffling feet echo
in the shadows
of a candle-lit
forgotten church
as the old priest
performs his sacred rituals
to a few faithful followers


A commitment to the cloth
harbourer of hidden secrets
an unclaimed inheritance
no longer passed on
the last remaining elders
keepers of unwanted wisdom
take their secrets
to the grave


Details | Ode | |

THE TRUEST ODES OF WAR

Such heavy artillery,
To whom shall we run,
To God have we come,
In pain and sad form,
To state our hearts' deform,
To stake our rights and reforms,
You know that where two Elephants fight the grass suffers,Do be well informed,
My youngmen you have been, deeply misinformed,
My insane Leaders and their wanting to negotiate a arms surrender,
Mines! Please do deactivate those heating "Death crumbs",
See the most hit at war having mucored loafs in luxury and style,
Locale Warlords feasting on roasted swine,Marijuana's wisdom and four gallons 
of rum,
Only the rich and mighty are are afforded the luxury of flying their families abroad,
We see vivid pictures of crime and business working in consortium,
Drugs and Arms circulation,
Or shooting the innocents,Genocide!
The world powers sidewatching as if they lack 'Parties' to side,
or on which peace steps to decide,
Please my Brothers-in-arm let's put hate aside,
Or on what "PEACE" plans to carryout from the inside,
Histories that co-incide.
Come,
Come! Peace and at this market-square shame war,
Peace do come and defy war,
The gory memory of steaming blood on his matchete,
Or my deafened eardrums beaten soft by these insultive BOMBS.
 
War,
Torture,
Rum,
Drugs,
Arms,
Rape,
Youths,
Tapes,
In war man's dearest friends are Sickness,Starvation and Illiteracy,
Learning the precious ways of The Ants,Bugs,Monkeys and electric fish,
Ladies and how they learnt their lesson in prostitution,
Beer bottles or bullets sealing the evidences,
My ink,My quail, and this page,
Cant tell, If in your age this will be read off Golden scrolls on diamond podiums,
Writing not for this time but for generations yet unborn,
Read the annals of history and learn that all who started a war or abetted 
one,Worship and Kiss the devil in the anus,
Or they are Madmen-in-coats-and-Briefcases, Smoking piped marijuana in the 
Natinal Asylum,

Do you think I loved to kiss the red lips of rage,
Or suck the succulent bossom of 'Hate the Mother-adder',
War sets the bait,
Guerillas set the pace,
Government gorillas hold the day,
Youths and guns,
Maids and nails,
Only the dead can see the end of war,
Not only deep breath can still the tremors of bombs,
Or greed the might of crumbs,
May God's almighty blessings be bestowed on Relief,Aid,Donor and Charity 
Agencies that stand the risks of war and its deaths.
Wars are a confirmation of a Civilization in Rust.


Details | Free verse | |

Invisible Chains


When you think your alone I’m actually there. . taking away your freedom and your not even aware.

Its better this way with you not knowing, as if our true face was to show, well that would be the end of the plan as we know.

So do us a favour and keep working your 9-5 watching our T.V thinking you’re alive.

The truth of it all is we run this show and even if we told you no better people would know! 

As most aren’t wise they do as there told, makes them feel secure. . Its psychology of old, an as we both know sheep do not lead  . . but follow!


Details | Verse | |

Cold Brittle Truth

As a race
We chase the tail of approval
As a race
Cowardice abides
Dissonant souls
And dreary eyes
Measly lies
And tensions rise

As a whole 
We march to the melancholy drum
And bathe in the scum
Of what we've become

Oh sadness, my old companion
You, who tore me from childhood fantasy
You, who made my joy a fallacy
You

Seldom is the heart
In a place willing to give
In a place worthy of peace
You're living, at least
Though you may not want to live

As a tribe
We cannot deny
As a tribe
We can no longer lie
Or divided, and lost
We all will die


Details | Free verse | |

Forgotten

Forgotten

So many have died
Slaves executed by the rich
Warriors placed in battle with each other
Blood spilt in the name of entertainment
Forced to fight
Forced to kill
Forced to die
They lived in total hell
Wounds left open
Bleeding into the sand
Food barely enough to stay alive
How would they be remembered?
Their names will not be passed down
They will be scratched into rock
Hidden by the passage of time
Found a thousand years later
Worn and eroded
Their names are in museums
Viewed by thousands
Remembered by none
Their stories are never retold
They lived
They fought
They died
And now they are forgotten


Details | Rhyme | |

617 Squadron " The Flight Home "

Brave men brought together
To fly the bombers
To hamper the power
 
Enlistment their will 
To serve the free
All humble men 
As history will see
 
Hearts shaking
On this white knuckle ride
Hero's them all
Side by side
 
Outbound flights
Planes lost
Their families and friends
Count the cost
 
Target reached
Heavy flak
How many of them
Will make it back
 
They turn for home
Chased by the Hun
Machine guns ripping
Flesh so young
 
Wounded they slump
Bullet ridden
Bloodied bodies
Sodden
 
The coast of England up ahead
Welcomes the live
And will remember the dead
 
Distant engines
The airfield hears
Crippled planes
Grow near and near
 
Families gather as they fly over
Did their loved ones
Pass the cliffs of Dover
 
Ambulance, tenders
Race to the scene
Pieces of man
Their life no longer a dream
 
Carried in care 
Blanketed shroud
Dads and sons
Did their country proud
 
The airmen who walked out
Turned and looked to the sky
This mission by men
As they wonder why
 
Pain and suffering 
For the right to be free
As the future has thanked
As we look back and see.
 
 
Dedicated to all who served, to allow us to write and read.
We can fire our words, but they will never make us bleed.


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php


Details | Lyric | |

Esther Arbuthnott 1847 Her Ancient Photograph

          ESTHER ARBUTHNOT--1847 From Her Ancient Photograph
While the rain is falling gently on the roof it makes the sound,
of a time that's long forgotten, though it seems to hang around,
I can hear you breathing lightly from an Irish dream I've known,
it has come to Pennsylvania where you've found me here alone.

All the way from County Down, you were a dream I had to find,
though so long you were forgotten, you were always on my mind.
In your photograph your eyes are reaching out, perhaps for me,
I can feel you when I see you, but I never really see.

In your Book of Shadows, reading, is another person's sin,
but you open it to anyone who's wanting to come in.
There's a candle always burning in my window late at night,
and I'd love you in a moment, but that wouldn't make it right.

Can you hear the raindrops falling? County Down's so far away,
or perhaps it's just forgotten, like a dreary Irish day,
I can feel it when you're smiling, in the Heaven of your eyes,
love is gone and you've been dying, and it's then I realize,

you have found it all in Heaven, and it's such a part of you,
all the sad you had been living in this life will have to do.
it's an Irish kind of feeling, to be dying when you're dead,
and a lot of Irish whiskey only lightens up your head.
       © ron  wilson


Details | Ballad | |

Night before battle

Optio's! Centurions! Lend me your ears
But finish your rations and down your beers

For tommorow awaits the adventure of a life time
We battle our enemies for many bloody crimes

So tonight go home and bed your wives
Because some of you will lose your lives

Fill your bellies and admire your friends
For they will follow you to all your ends


Details | Rhyme | |

Enter

Quick whispers in quiet night,
This stretch of time that has no end.

Too fast this whimsy flight.
Shifty shadows down halls descend.

Only candle flutters dim.
Drafty disturbances of cold.

Something whispers of stories grim,
And tales yet untold.

www.insiderealhauntings.com


Details | Haiku | |

September Mourn

shriveling towers
serpent cheering- mobs rejoice
fisher woman cries
 


Details | Rhyme | |

Capital Carnage

Remember, Remember, the 7th of July,
When seven explosions decided who’d die .
As underground stations were bombed into hell,
To fulfil the sick plans of a terrorist cell.

Remember the slaughter, destruction and pain,
And the people who'll not see their families again.
Remember the ones who are injured for life,
Who’ll carry their scars through a lifetime of strife.

Remember that people can be so pervert,
As to follow a cause and care not who they hurt.
Is this what's become of the whole human race?
The way some behave is a tragic disgrace.

We'll stand up for Country, for God, and for Queen,
And glorify all that is bloody obscene.
We don't give a damn for the carnage we cause,
As long as we think that we've backed the right horse.

Remember, remember, when London was bombed,
By terrorist bastards who sung their own song.
But it's not only them who are in evil's spell,
It's half of mankind who reside there as well.

Ivor G Davies

(This poem was written on the day during the aftermath of this carnage)


Details | Lyric | |

Freak Show

Hello? Hello? Is anyone here? I am here for the “Freak Show”. Fine don't come out. If you can't see yourself in a mirror, Come here Come here. If you don't fit in, Come here Come here. If you're full of terror, Come here Come here. If your made of tin, Come here Come here. Cause it's time, it's time, for the Freak Show, To unleash their wild pack, To come out of a shack, To show your wild side, To show you won't bite. Cause it's time for the Freak Show, To come out from the dark, To do your freaky march, To come unrap, To lay down flat. It's time for the Freak Show. Down here we don't judge, We don't care if your fudge, If you have flames, Or even fangs, If your made of fur, or if you purr, Come down for the Freak Show. 30 seconds on the clock, Those hands go tik tok, It's almost time for halloween night, Get ready for a real fright! Cause it's time, it's time, for the Freak Show, To unleash their wild pack, To come out of a shack, To show your wild side, To show you won't bite. Cause it's time for the Freak Show, To come out from the dark, To do your freaky march, To come unrap, To lay down flat. It's time for the Freak Show. Just scare those kids, Into little bits, I'm sure they won't mind, It isn't a crime, Invite them inside, For a little surprise, You are supernatural, Or even bichemical. Cause it's time, it's time, for the Freak Show, To unleash their wild pack, To come out of a shack, To show your wild side, To show you won't bite. Cause it's time for the Freak Show, To come out from the dark, To do your freaky march, To come unrap, To lay down flat. It's time for the Freak Show. WELCOME HOME.


Details | Free verse | |

WAR


                                                      BLACK
                                                      FLAME
                                                       SHOT
                                                       BANG
                                                      GROAN
                                                     SILENCE
                                                       COLD
                                                      TEARS
                                                        PAIN 
                                                     MEMORY


Details | Free verse | |

All Because I Am Jewish


I saw you brother with your eyes deadened to life 
As the bullet passed through your chest 
I shall never forget that piece of lead that laid your soul to rest 
Lodged into the door beside me 
Our plan had failed 
Every detail played to perfection 
Your hand was on the rail of the train when the shouts came 
Stop! Stop! 
To stop meant death anyway, so why would we 
Yet their bullet pierced you 
And I stood there, frozen in a world that hated us 
If things were reversed I wonder, would I have pulled that trigger? 
I think back when they sent momma and poppa to that gas tank 
The cloths had hidden the fear in their eyes 
As they walked silently to death 
I know this, I could never have been that cruel 
How could they follow this leader of deranged thought 
But now I am alone in this freedom land called America 
I shall never forget what those Nazi's did to my family 
The tortures unbearable for thought 
All the friends I have known have perished by gas 
Some shot for refusing to die 
All because I am Jewish 
Nothing could be so atrocious as to kill a man for being himself. 

BY: DARREN J McMURRAY 
June 14, 2008 


Details | Free verse | |

The art Of Spring

Bright blue skies on a spring day
Fulfills my horizon
Blue birds and robins pass me by

Mountain, trees, and animals
Priase God Abroad
The frsh air bring forth calmness
A quiet serene a waits my soul

Red orange and violets
Represents God's glory
Flowers slowly rise with the sun
And water crickets sings songs of glory

Fresh water arises with the scent 
Of of sweet savory of God's spices
Beach rolls in the lazy tide
I sit back and enjoy it all

The art of spring is glorification
Of all tings God created
He's the world famous artist

He


Details | Free verse | |

WE, THE DEAD




My memory rippled, shifted shamefully, like the waves below the gangplank.
Mother clung, but her hand was shaking so badly that for a crippling moment 
I feared she would knock me into rank depths that seemed to mouth my name.

The well, that well, and its hold have returned and I am once again down, down,
under dark waters which pull all the will from me, a sinful thought for a girl
of thirteen, but the mad, mad, sadness laps at my thoughts, endlessly eroding

at courage and the belief that we will ever reach other shores and start life anew. 
Unsinkable they say, mocking God and hell, daring to claim, this Titan is tame.
Liars all, painting inky seas blue and tagging our holding barge the ship of dreams.

Third class, we are kept like kippers, tightly packed, and I long for Peterborough,
Where skies do not tilt and I can escape to the fields and their wildflower seams,
Oh, I hear the mourning of propellers, turning, turning like Mother’s pale torment.

She will not sleep, her terror is patronized by my older siblings, but I see, too,
her premonitions and far, far, below, I hear the icy echo of drowning calling,
My old friend who once let me go, but soon, soon will use that familiar undertow.

Finally, comes the grinding grinding to a stop and from our bunks we are falling,
And sweet Will sucks his thumb without being told no, no, no, little Connie’s bawling,
But its father who shocks me the most, for he is oddly quiet and his eyes are hazed.

We get to the deck, but there is no lifeboat for eleven, so I gazed upwards instead, 
Count the distant and indifferent stars, remember how I’d almost seen Heaven,
Listen to the band playing, playing and mother praying, praying for we, the dead.






About this poem

I am writing a fictionalized account of Miss Dorothy “Dolly” Florence Sage, 13, Titanic passenger. However these are the facts: Dolly fell down a well as a little girl, nearly drowned, and as a result her mother was terrified of water. Annie Sage, 44, did not want to cross the Atlantic, but supported her husband, John, also 44, and his dream to begin a new life in America. They had nine children. No one in the family survived. The youngest was only four. Stella, the oldest girl, managed to get to a lifeboat, but refused to get on without her family. The picture is not that of Dolly, but of a girl from that era.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

YOU SAID IT WAS FOR MY PROTECTION

Our very first goodbye
How hard I tried not to cry
That day I saw a tear glisten in your eye
You said it was for my protection
But I lost your love, your affection

Left with an open wound inside
It was based on one big lie
I remember dancing on your feet
I wish I could hug you, hear your heartbeat

Our first goodbye, was also our last
How I treasure the memories of the past
Nine years and still in war
No peace, no gain, just blood and pain
So I ask you;
What did my daddy die for? 


Details | Senryu | |

Pulled the Trigger

Bullet wounds
The criminal shoots down his
First targets

How dare you
Shoot them uncontrollably
CHAOS grows .  .  .

Don’t shoot it!
The victims are running mad
And you pulled

The trigger
I’m terrified of your strength
DROP IT, man ! ! !


Details | Epitaph | |

An Epitaph For Arlington

Beneath this green and grassy field
Whence ghosts of heroes past doth shield;
Lie noble relics of flesh and bone,
To each bequeathed a marble stone.
And as you walk amongst  the rows
May you learn what each one here knows;
O that freedom should not be lost,
All who lie here have paid the cost.


Details | Acrostic | |

September Eleven

(Acrostic) 


N*ever forget this day 
I*n our hearts forever lives 
N*ever forget this day 
E*nemy took many lives 

E*motions running still deep 
L*et's remember nine-eleven 
E*mbraced our brave heroes 
V*iewed it all on tv screen 
E*ntired world was in shock 
N*ever forget nine-eleven 



Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 
copyright@2009 


September 2, 2009 


Details | Quatrain | |

Another Kind of Man

To be intrusive to another's mind to taste what the hells going on
To be different from other men as they sing a different song
For this, this blind man seeks to be the seeker to see and scan
To go inside the mind of another, another kind of man

History has shown and reminded of the monsters that have been
This trait of human man, as each generations scene
What makes us be so different, to hurt whom we care and love
Is it some form of weakness we allure, against family loving doves

As I enter their minds even deeper, the appalling rise to view
Standing proud in their deathly mask, their hurting of others true
Rapists, serial killers and dictators, or even the family man
What possesses their power to indulge, that this blind man can't even scan

My thoughts go out to you all, who have suffered at the hands of man
Evolution is not the answer, to really be who they can
This blind man he said to me, if I look into you what will I find
My reply to him was simple, I'm just a different kind 









http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss-6.php


Details | Haiku | |

Kristallnacht

Extermination,
There are so many terrors,
Die and die without.


Details | Couplet | |

Putrefying Overthrow

I plan my murderous ways deep within my mind.
She is ruthless and demeaning and so unkind.
Telling no-one of my prearranged scheme today,
No-one that can discuss this deed in anyway,
She is uncanny, mysteriously, skulking in house.
I despise her fortitude making me her mortal louse.
She deserves this death a thousand times more.
She has traveled from this place and that store.
Shopping and traveling with a hunger unknown.
She is destroying my castle and taking my throne.
A widow stumbling upon me, not once but twice,
Her planned arrangement, slightly at any price,
Our merger won by nature’s fortitude and design.
Coupled in society we had lived in life so fine.
She was about to meet the end, my perfect crime.
Our unity really forbidden, calibrated in time.
This murder will never be traced back to me.
No-one knew she existed, a complete mystery.
Poison my choice for destruction for my lady.
An agonizing painful death for Mrs. O’Grady,
She was a female that held a gratified divider.
My prey and murdered victim was a spider

written by
Cecil Hickman

written for
Sponsor Susan Burch 
Contest Name Getting Away with Murder/Murderous Thoughts 


Details | Rhyme | |

Vampires Of Bulgaria

In the southern mountains of Bulgaria  
A gruesome discovery had been made                                                     
They uncovered hundreds of skeletons
Of vampires that were slayed
They had religious charms beside them 
To stop the dead from rising again
And iron stakes still protruding
From their chests of their remains
In the Slavic villages everywhere
Plagues had broken out
And anti-Vampire rituals
Were common scenes throughout
This plague had started to ravage
Populations of medieval times
Hysteria had gripped the people
From the walking dead at night
So the people created an image
In the form of two graves
To resemble the Virgin Mary
With child to keep evil away 
In the ancient city of Thracian
Stands a hilltop citadel
In the ruins of Perperikon
A truly living hell




Based On A True Story 

© Copyright KC.Leake
4th December 2014
All Rights Reserved





Details | Free verse | |

Babylon

Words hold the meaning that we assign them
Ever since the fall of the tower .....


Babylon
Ancient land of mysteries solved
and shared
Where collective mind 
cast away the shadow of doubt.

Creative thought 
held siege by the Jealous Gods of war
and retribution
Zeus
Appolo
Yeshua


A hundred times, babylon fell
to the Kassites, the Assyrians, 
She fell 
and was re-built by Nebuchadnezzar   
The hanging gardens, of Eden
her fruit of art and music
flowed through deserts
with the sweet wine of Bacchus
intoxicating all in her pleasure. 

In the aftermath of the great feast
they awoke to find
The Persian army stationed amidst them
having walked through the river
and under the walls.  
Order reform, separation. 
corruption deterioration
Dust to dust.
till
Alexander the Great
wooed her alive again.. 
Babylon
dancing through gardens, libraries, 
markets, travel and trade
musicians, poets and playwrights 
came again to sing praises of her beauty.
With his death 
she fell
pawed apart by the feuding decay of his bureaucrats.
Babylon, death and rebirth..

Now she lies beneath the sands, 
beneath the waters of the Euphrates 
A camel ride south of Bagdad
where the tanks and shells of many lands
shake the ancient tower down.

Hammurabi’s code still stands
shattered into a million languages.

Right is right
and Law is Law.


Details | Narrative | |

Washed Away My experience with Katrina

Innocent victims cry in the dark
Forced to take refuge in that park
Such wrath began to fall
For I shall never forget the day I got that call
Silence and sorrow heavy in the air
It was like nothing I could ever compare
Days turned to weeks
Thousands take dwelling beseeching for any relief
Thousands left waiting in utter disbelief 

I was supposed to be deployed
Yet an injury kept me here
My fellow workers attacked at the dome
Traumatized and in complete fear some had to return home
I feel so guilty
So guilty I should have been there
Innocent victims crying
Innocent victims now dying

An event so devastating
The stench of death filled the air 
We could not fathom something so unfair 
I counseled innocent victims
Still sticking strong to their convictions 
I still recall every haunting voice
Confused, frustrated and displaced
Innocent victims left without a choice

Families torn apart on that day
The day the levees broke
Families losing all hope
My job was to help them cope
Innocent victims left to cry in a park
Fear increases when light turns to dark
Like declaring Martial Law
Lives washed away, all humanity started to fall

On the dawn of a new day
So joyous… even an atheist bowed her head to pray
The media coverage was what really brought aid
Oh no!
Politicians began to look bad so of course something had to be done
Late in action but at least more help had come
There is still work to be had
Many left permanently sad
Entering in hundreds of names to locate the missing or those declared dead
Debriefed each night just to clear my head
I still remember so clearly the desperation and panic
When Katrina came in August 
Life turned frantic
Overwhelming emotions; I felt completely manic 
I will never forget the victims I helped in such grief
I hope when the bodies were identified; I wish just some…
Some could give a sigh of relief

It is important we do not forget those still suffering
The child who didn’t get the last kiss
The parents who will be dearly missed
We all have the ability to help
1,836 people dead!
Work together and ease the sorrow… 
Another disaster could just happen tomorrow
Make time to reach out 
So many innocent victims still in need
We all are capable of doing a good deed


Details | Epyllion | |

Wild Vanilla

Cerberus bleeds through copper  tablets.
The red skinned angel spews the truth
Of ages.  Of wood: we sing hollow
Hosannas:  too many fragments 
Of light – flutter past the eyelids.

I wait.  Impatiently – push stones
Through needle eyes.  Honey 
Combed monsters breath deep. Mimic
Lies told by cloaked creatures living
On shadow time.

The flesh forever green.  Pillars of fire
Illuminate infinity.  Here comes the 
(dis)believer of the free word. Those
that stain us – rule.  Hypocrisy of the 
one that deigned himself God.

Later, the fly awakens.  Time to leave,
The dream has finally run out.


Details | Haiku | |

Death at Kent State

Four students were killed
On May fourth nineteen seventy
Antiwar protest


Details | Pantoum | |

The Orphans

Weeds grow around, under the fence that leans
Wagon sits in barn yard needing mending
Hay rake left in the field to use between
Summer showers, rake hay for winter feeding

Wagon sits in barn yard needing mending
Since father died none takes charge of farm
Summer showers, rake hay for winter feeding
Five children left orphaned no one sends alarm

Since father died none takes charge of farm
Hay rake left in the field to use between
Five children left orphaned no one sends alarm
Weeds grow around, under the fence that leans



(My mother's mother was left a widow with five children ages 12 years to 6 months.  Mother's 
father 
was bitten by a rabid dog.  The doctor sent for medicine to treat the illness and gave him the 
meds.  The doctor told him that he needed to rest stay out of the heat but he felt that he had 
to 
move the saw mill to another location so that they could start work and this was a fatal 
mistake.)


Details | Narrative | |

Hurt and You Could Have it All

upstairs in my room
i put my ear to the floor
only to hear my parents screaming
the argument is about me
my mom yells "look at what your son has become!"
Heartless, unintelligent, fake...
my father replies back
"hes your son, hes your own pile of dirt!"
whenever my family is out together
we act happy like these fights never happen
but every night they do and i cant tell anyone
i have to act like someone else in order not to get introuble
What have i become?...hurt..dishonest..will this feeling dissapear?
I will drag you down and i will make you hurt..
I lift my head from the floor
still hearing the angry voices of my parents
i found an old needle, and i dug it into my skin
the next morning i go downstairs
with a cut off shirt on, and baseball shorts
My father grabs my arm
"what is this boy?"
i yank my hand away from him and i sit down on a chair
"its nothing sir"
my father repeats "are you cutting yourself?, why?"
i grab my bookbag and i disapear out the door
My father runs outside pulling me to the ground
"are you cutting yourself boy?!" he screams
i say "no sir i just scrapped my arm on my dresser"
My father grabs my face
"you better not cut yourself again" he replies
He hits my face, as i lay on the ground.
I didnt wake up until i felt something wet drip on my face
it was raining and dark outside
i run into the house and into the bathroom
looking into the mirror i see the bruise that was left on my face
My father wasnt home and my mother went to bed
"everything goes away in the end right, if i let him have it all, my moms pile of dirt?"
I sit upon my liars chair full of broken memories i cannot repair 
I become someone else, but the old me is still right there
if i could start again a million miles away i would keep myself
i will find my way



Details | Senryu | |

That September Day in 2001

Two thousand seven Hundred and fifty victims Murdered, Rest in Peace My entry into Nathan's 9-11 contest http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/america.php


Details | Ballad | |

Immortal View of Time

Immortal I stand at the dawn of time watching as history unfolds what will become of 
mankind. War and evil is said to be man made, but it was created by the Ancient of Days; 
long before the snake will entice the mortals to slay.

The land is green with promise of that which is unseen, seize the day while it is young is the 
battle cry of the old, carpe diem is dead and cold. Potential is something that is most not fully 
realized, and never surpassed. History is the story of man never learning from the mistakes 
they have made before; there is no new problem under the sun.

Little spiders in my brain running at the speed of light, each carries a little thought some of: 
joy, hope, fear, and delight. Another fly dies food for thought is consumed fueling my mind 
through out the night.

The war within is the one not without belief, that these ants, spiders, and flies live and die for 
something larger than what they are in this life. “Veni Vedi Veci” Caesar cried but what was it 
for that this ant died? Shakespeare wrote, he spun and weaved but with his web of beautiful 
words is he really anything more than a spider to me?

The Brink of the dawn until this point in time: you’re born, you live and die. Is there a point to 
try? The pages of history are all the same, but do your best to live it different in each day. We 
will put it on your grave that you dared to live for the new day, which never came for you 
anyways.

Immortal I stand at the setting of the sun it seems like yesterday time has just begun; but 
now it’s done and these mortals had a good run. They have managed to find grace in the 
eyes of the Ancient of Days.


Details | I do not know? | |

If I Could Turn Back TIme

 
 
      The years have passed yet the emptiness lingers on
       All taken from us on that day forever now gone
       We still remember and we will always care
       Names so familiar to us yet spoken like a prayer
       All we have are images and memories of our loved ones
        Mother's, father's, sisters, brothers, daughters, and sons
        Six years have passed and we go on
        Six years have passed yet the war goes on
        When will we find closure to what happened that day
         When will we say their lives were not taken in vain
         We can't and will not forget that September day
         That bright sunny morning when in a flash life was changed for always
         So many hopes and dreams lost forever
         But in our hearts you will leave us never
         You belong to the country and the world since that day
          But how I wish I could turn back time and have you back with us here today.
        
           
         
          
          
         


Details | Imagism | |

Omlet - or - The Taming of the Screwball

         "OMLET"
            or
      "The Taming Of A Screwball"
      cast of characters:
      Julius Caesar
      A Roman Teenaged Kid
      A Roman Guard
      Brutus
      A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
      A bunch of Roman Senators
   
   Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
   "Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
   "Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
   Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
   Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
   "Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
   Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
   "Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
                     curtain
                      (applause)
© Ron Wilson


Details | Lyric | |

America

Maybe your the land of the free
land of liberty and slavery
do what we want you to and dont throw a fit
suck it boy get over it

Land of liberty but can be arranged
still the land we call a cage
if you can make it away from the norm
just dont forget of the form

we want you!! x6

no one can heal our scars
better pray to the stripes and stars
put the rest in the past
say hello to the new low class

our soil is not complete
this land is guillotine
let out filth build up for all this time
fill yourself with american pride

we want you!! x6


Details | Diamante | |

Jacket Rabbits Laughing

JACK RABBITS LAUGHING
 WE ARE FOOLS IN TIME
 THIS WILL TURN
 U INSIDE OUT
 IF U DIE TONITE WHAT WOULD
U SAY TO THE JACK RABBIT
 IF HE SEE U DIYING
 TELL ME 
YOUR NO DIFFRENT
 THEN  THE   KING 
HE MIGHT BE RICH 
BUT THE POOR RABBIT
 STANDS UP ON HIS FEET
 KISS U 
BECAUSE 
HE DIED TOO 
WHO LAND IS THIS  
THE KING ASK 
HE ANSWER U 
ALL BACK IT 
THE UNVERIAL LAW
 IT ALL LIVING BEINGS
 TREES SPEAK UP
 NOW WHO THE FOOL


Details | Blank verse | |

God's Opinion

A baby is born Under a Jewish star His mother weeps All around her is marching That torturous sound haunting her day and night Here in a basement they hide Hiding for days, for weeks, for months Her faith is failing the propaganda is overwhelming But she waits in that basement Hiding in that dark nothingness She hears glass breaking All around her are screams That torturous sound haunting her day and night She wakes one day from the sound of boots Walking down the stairs A man in black unstraps his helmet Showing his clean cut hair As he discards his cigarette He pulls out his Luger She weeps The man in black puts away his pistol Leaving behind two dead bodies And some who are starving, sick, and weak Huddled in quarters worse then barns Look up to the heavens And wonder why the world should go on And a baby is born


Details | Rhyme | |

For in a Doorway Lies

On an Iraqi street
Its all quiet and calm
The way it should be
Without the tyrants palm

Kids are playing
American marines patrol
They don't want to be there
But peace is their goal

A sudden silence
Greets the street
Then all hell breaks loose
Every one falls to their feet

An explosion so powerful
In neighbourhood shake
An all mighty blast
Delivered by mans earthquake

Shrapnel zips
And pings through the air
Voices in scream
Faces in blood run stare

The dust and debris
Drifts all around
As the marines rise
One hears, a crying sound

He follows the cries
For in a doorway lies
A boy of two
In bloodied apply

His small frame
Sodden of red
Lacerations aplenty
On the road to dead

The blanket he clutched
In crimson soak
This soldier, marine
In tear filled choke

He gently lifts
This fragile child
Another innocent casualty
As another war smiles

Sadly, there will be others
Through the months and years
When war will still smile
And ignore all the tears




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-4.php


Details | Sestina | |

Autumn Breeze

   A whisper of beauty sets to the night
In ancient time of Autumn breeze
A flightless feather to soar the sky
Records the silent echos of sorrow
Carries through on seasonal change
Keeping time with history's eye.
   A feather passes a tear filled eye
The sacrifice before the night
The day of blood held in the breeze
As a gentle wind through summer sky
Pierced by the blade of sorrow
The Holy man of change.
   New land wandered for man to change
A wishful time to England's eye 
The eagle spies the foot step night
The pilgrims beyond the breeze
As children cry to burn the sky
A massacred Indian sorrow.
   A black man echoes sorrow	
The pain of life to change
Freedom from the blood stained eye
His cry seeks out the night
Caressed by Autumn breeze
As another feather floats the sky.
   Blood stench streams in horrid sky
The bodies of broken sorrow	
The feather sights upon the change
As delusions form in hatred eye
Secrets under night
Their souls become the breeze.
   Reaching upon the new day breeze
A scrape of cloud and sky
A world united in mornings sorrow
The view of landscaped change
Laments cry the tearful eye
Through restless lonely night.
   Unto the land of darkened night
The feather of recorded sorrow
A moments break awaits, the next Autumn breeze.

     BY: DARREN J McMURRAY
     September 25, 2008


Details | Rhyme | |

we will never forget

                                                 (09/11/11)

Ten years later and we still feel the pain 
So many innocent lives was taken that day.
The memories of  our brave forces running to
Save a life, not thinking of themselves
Or the sacrifice.
 
And the twin towers Falling to the ground
 And hearing Peoples screams and every type of sound,
The sounds of the buildings collapsing 
and the sounds of metal starting to bend.
Will it ever stop? Will it ever end?

These are just a few of the memories 
that stay in our minds, and they will
Last till the ends of time.

Over three thousand lives were taken 
And they say that 343 of them were firemen and women
And police officers who gave their lives that day
And we honor them, in all that we do and say.

Seeing the white dust that covered every street.
And the clouds of smoke that billowed to the skies
These are the memories that will stay with you and I.

For each American there is a different memory


Details | Narrative | |

Pharoh's Fate

Thou oh man, who caused the kingdoms of this world to tremble and shake!
With wrath continual stroke against the nations raged.
Beneath the rose now entombed, ‘neath starry skies you shall await thy doom.
Blade and flame shall guard thy gates.
Silently shalt thou await thy resurrected fate.
Thou oh man, who caused the kingdoms of this world to tremble and shake!
With thy rod wonderfully thou smote throughout the land treading underfoot thy fellow man.
Thy pomp now brought down and thy scepter broke.
Thou besom of destruction yet no rest shalt thou find!
The kings of this earth shall gloriously in state lie, but thou oh man shall not join thyself to 
them in eternal state.
Thy renown once amongst the nations proclaimed now shall to the dust of time remain.
Prepare oh man, the earth hath opened itself for thee!



Details | Free verse | |

The Showers

No air, no space, no light
water gone, food gone, people gone
He can’t take it much longer – 
might go crazy.

He thinks it’s a dream,
a hallucination
the train has stopped.

Reality sets in as quickly
as it seemed to have faded.
The doors are ushered open
by bullets and shouting.

Left!  Right!  Stop!  Leave it!
His dignity is stripped away with
every piece of clothing he takes off.
At least water is coming soon.

Do you think the guards would
notice if he drank some?  They 
would probably laugh at him.

No air, no space, no light

He holds on to the reassurance
of a shower when he should
be preparing for death.

His water never came,
the showerheads never
sputtered to life -- 


This was written in response to the horrors of the Holocaust: Jews transported in 
cattle cars, told they were going to get showers, but then killed by way of gas.


Details | Quatern | |

MORE THAN WHITE SKIN

I am more than white skin,
my sight never rejects any other color 
darker or lighter than mine...
I hate prejudice, but kindness I share. 


I am more than white skin,
my forefathers came from distant lands,
I was often told, to settle in those places...
where a great civilization began.


People stare and compare with much apparent hostility,
I didn't wish to be more than white skin,
to be smeared with guilt for the unfairness and cruelty
of my kindred, who treated others with scorn.


Those bigots, who acted like pirates, had a mind so ungodly and primitive:
to kill, separate families who didn't have white skin,
and is all too relevant that greed was their objective....
if racism didn't exist, harmony among peoples would bring unification.  

 


Details | Free verse | |

The Inner Struggle

Some our very eager perplexed swept within

Underneathe the belly of the beast
A needed flower to grow amidst the rise of yeast
Within sullen fragmented dreams & truth
One may even negate that inner truth for a lie?

That inner struggle within/

To remain attached to the vine sublime

We are more then qualified for its great design
To calm the nerves from within
We look to man yet find no hold
We look toward self thus grafted in again onto the rights are sold

We then read books based on logic & get trapped within
~

For some, 
It's inner struggle is what we all must seek to face
Within loose debris in decayed formation
Yet some its inner struggle is a way of escape?

Proned toward evident inhillation embraced with its surfaced Peyton Place;

The inner struggle from within
Fought back the heavy tears with a smile
Still to know all the great while
A hand to hold a loving kiss embraced

For this is the thought provoking struggle we enivatably all must face?

The inner struggle.


Details | Rhyme | |

That Night in Caen " June 1944 "

In the centre of Caen
On this war torn night
Spandau's strafing
All the Canadian soldiers in sight
 
Sergeant Baker
Is hit in the thigh
A flesh wound its not
He's in bleeding die
 
As he cries out in pain
The bullets rain down
Zipping and pinging
In this beautiful French town
 
His head down
As he awaits his fate
His collar is grabbed
Now in dragging state
 
His colleague and friend
Has risked his life
To save another
From mans war torn strife
 
As they scramble away
Upon them comes
A Tiger tank
Over the wall she runs
 
To a shell hole they dive
As a rocket strikes
Through it's armoured steel
In precision bite
 
Internal explosion
Screams of death
Tank crew gone
In battle reft
 
The town now liberated
In population applause
As we sit in the square
Wondering of wars just cause
 
 
" Dedicated to all the Canadian and British soldiers
    who liberated Caen from June to August 1944 " 




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php


Details | Free verse | |

Warning Sign

Surly you have put   
                your word to pen
the winds have carried them
have dispersed them               upon the globe
the game pieces          are in place
and the populace   lives    under
               dense clouds of darkness
though not awake                   aware of determinations
                        a war machine
funded with flesh              and gold
                        as oxen under yoke
who have no say           in what their masters plow
 
They HAVE been             forewarned
surly your WORD       has come         full circle
you have called out                 the future
and given knowledge       of fortresses
                        battlements and shields
 
The 1st WAR             your minds
The 2nd WAR            your hearts
The 3rd WAR             your flesh
 
             the full destruction of corruptions
 
Surly your intentions have 
                          been fully shown for any knowing
the instructions of the King
but they have been led astray
                           and loved to have it that way
 
You keep sending           your servants
the watchmen who view            into distances
to tell what was far off                  has come close
 
 
The Temple and the Bride
               are nearly completed
the invitations to all            the guests 
not one single soul       is exempt
                of participation
freewill will have a whole              new meaning
you can choose the          royal law           of Life
 
or be driven        off the cliffs
by unruly                          angels
because the            ideology            of WAR
            and fear        driven        by rulers
whose behavior is                   so corrupt 
         that we liken      them   to being    demonic
 
Come now where is your              reason
that you           should choose            WAR
             over the avenues of peace
everywhere        you turn          is a sign
            and it says         beware
wake up           wake up             wake up
                before you sleepwalk 
                    into death
 
 
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Rhyme | |

Silent Train

In the middle of nowhere
Barren terrain
Silent scatter of suitcases
Surround an empty train
 
Passengers gone
Quietness aplenty
Signs of life none
No visible sentries
 
Carriage after carriage
As far as the eye can see
For the thousands of occupants
Where can they be
 
As we approach the engine
Buildings appear
Smoking chimneys
Figures become clear
 
Stripe suited and shaved
Emaciated to thin
What world have we walked into
Walking skeletal skin
 
The sweet smell
Of the acrid smoke
Stinging our eyes
Catching our throats
 
As we enter the buildings
That are emitting this smoke
The stench and the sight
We're in sickly choke
 
Bodies charred and broken
Naked unjust
In this war that we have lived
Inhuman disgust
 
Night turns to day
As we witness it clear
To do this to humans
What did the Germans fear
 
Later that day
As we hear on the news
We have not witnessed the first
For there has been further abuse
 
We reach Berlin
My platoon and I
Five years of fighting
We still wonder why



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php


Details | Rhyme | |

Stalag Luft III ( Stammlager Luft )

Let me take you back
To 1942
In Sagan ( Zagan ) Poland
In World War II
 
Their was built a camp
For prisoners of war
Primarily Air Force
Heroes galore
 
The site was selected
To escape them tunnelling
Deterring their efforts
In freedom funnelling
 
Forward we move
To March 1944
A tunnel called " Harry "
These servicemen bore
 
On a moonless night
March 24th
The crawled through the tunnel
To escape to go forth
 
To assist their escape
Air raid sirens wailed
The camps lights went dim
To the steps they scaled
 
Ten in the first hour
Escaped to the trees
Seventy six in total
From Stalag Luft free
 
The seventy seventh
Was seen emerging from the ground
The guards in alert
As the tunnel was found
 
The escaped seventy six
To the railway station they went
But confusion arose
For the paths they were meant
 
Not knowing where to go
They all missed their train
Some stayed for the next
While others walked the terrain
 
What befell the escaped
My words will speak
The search by the Germans
In prisoner seek
 
Two Norwegians 
Made it to Sweden
A Dutch man through France
To Spain was his freedom
 
When news of this broke
Hitler was incensed
Orders were issued
For Artur Nebe to dispense
 
Fifty were herded
Onto trucks for their return
But they stopped at a clearing
For their fate to be learned
 
As they disembarked the trucks
To stretch their legs
Spandau's and Schmeisser's
Sprayed them with lead
 
The news of these deaths
Left our Parliament in shock
For these tragic moments
The Nuremberg trials would unlock
 
After the war
Gestapo officers were tried
They were responsible
For the fifty who died
 
This write is my tribute
For they were near freedoms gate
To all who were behind
The Great Escape



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war.php


Details | Ballad | |

September 11th

Today’s the day
When it all went down.
The pain and sorrow,
And the worlds big frown.
It shouldn’t have happened,
All those innocent people,
Who had to be there,
Now have God as their keeper.
It wasn’t their time to go.
I feel horrible for their families.
I just want to ask you,
 To pray for them please.
The terrorists that did this
Will get what they deserve.
They’ll get Satan’s kiss!
They must be heartless
To even think of this!
There are people to thank
Like the firemen and cops,
And a lot of people gave blood.
Even if it was just drops.
When the towers got hit,
The world thought it was an accident.
No one would’ve guessed
That it was really terrorists.
So don’t forget this day.
Its part of our painful history.
It’ll be in the books.
But why it happened,
Will always be a mystery.


Details | Rhyme | |

Sally Carter's Grave

Many years ago when I was a daring youth,
I lived in a town where old legend held great truth. 
Halloween night friends would gather at west graveyard,
it made no difference that the entrance stayed barred.

We would scale the wall in search for her grave,
to prove to others how foolish and brave.
Rumors transcended she was a monstrous ghost,
only revealing to ones she disliked the most.

Relics were chipped from Sally’s aged headstone,
attesting we were in her shrouded burial zone.
During the night she would come to our room,
retrieve the chip and return to her tomb.

Legend had stated, Sally died a fierce demise,
from a deadly disease that stifled agonizing cries.
Her lover saw her fall from atop steep staircase,
she just turned sixteen; frail body draped in white lace.

When the moon was full and close to midnight,
she would float above her grave and then fade from sight.
We ran for our lives through a headstone maze,
to satisfy the oddity of a teenager’s craze.

Now her grave and aged tombstone have been moved,
since family did not want visitors they had not approved.
Sally now lies somewhere in a grave undisclosed,
with her legend and memory fully decomposed.

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey


Details | I do not know? | |

power

Outside in the distance
Thunders roll
Not storming
The light is an unexplainable show
When there is death
Some how the clouds
Darken the sky
The sound is so loud
It deafens the ear
A mushroom of smoke
Seems to appear
Blinding was the light
One can only wonder
Reasons for this titanic fight
Making the conscience ponder
Is this right?
Such brightness
In the dimness of night
Undefined by any word
Is this sight
The soul is mournful
And chest feeling so tight
One must ask
Is this a reason to fight?
Thoughts run
Questioning what is right
And what is wrong
All life present
Wiped away, forever gone
Power is a curse
Bringing no good
Not even by those rulers
Praised, or the misunderstood


Details | Free verse | |

Change of speed.

He was seized with an obsession,
it wasn't like balsam to his hurt feelings,
and his body has been waisted by the long illness.
The streets were bedecked with flags,
and the soldier declared himself innocent.
It was only then that they realized the gravity of the situation.
The people.
A constitutional government,it's bad policy to beat him.
There was a munition shortage and wet weather gets me down.
That gloomy old house is dying as the dove of peace patronize,
the soldier.
The piney slopes were covered with snow and red spots,
as the light fell on her face,before wolves torn it to pieces.
The hope.
The soldier  showed signs of distress,i was astonished at the news.
By midday he had sold out and left for his village.
Bury the hatchet,soldier !! The place is Godforsaken.
I had a sudden pain in the stomach.
Change of speed.






Details | I do not know? | |

The Badlands

You can see them comin over the ridge,
The sun at their back.
The outline of their steeds they ride,
The dust they are kicking up as they blaze their trail.
The cowboys ride into town without fear in their eyes.
Years of trails wear on their skin,
Making their hands look like the leather of their gun belts.
They dismount and you can hear the leather of their saddles crackle.
The walk they have is of a gunslinger on the run,
The look of a cowboy that has no trust.
The squint in their eyes from the noon sun,
So many days of sitting in the saddle wearing on the pants they wear,
The horses drinking as though it's their last taste of water.
Trouble brewing in the air,
You can almost smell the gun powder.
Other horse men ride in with a thunderous ride,
Gun shots are heard,
They ring out like echoes of balls of a canon.
All is quiet once more,
Three lay dead.
The badlands make no sound,
Until the next possy rides to town.


Details | Rhyme | |

When Robert Emmet Arrived

Hallowed The Halls of Antiquity
Frail The Parchment of History
When a Host of Quills Touched Destiny
And Rose a Peoples of Democracy

Hail sayeth to MAN not King?
Immortal Freedom When it Rings!
Freshly minted or neatly Forged!
No Queen or Earl or English Lord!

Across an Empire -England Stamped
With Sword and Powder and Steel Lance
And Spies and Traitors and the Gifted Lie
Soon Fear Peoples that may Do or Die

On an Island Nation Deep Dark Depths
Proclaiming freedom or cold stone death
Was Green their color yet red they Wept
As Tides of oceans the English Swept

Upon her shores and into her Land
Crushing Centuries English Black Hand
Rape and Plunder encouraged the day
Starvation Misery established the way

Intrigue with Promise and Commitment too
When they Lifted the North  for only a few!
Son against Father and Father against Friend
The Wiley Weapon YOUR English Best Friend

To an Island Nation with an Emerald Sea
Of Warriors Poets Braving To Be Free
No Pestilence or Famine generations deep
Or Hangman, Lordship or Company they keep

No Black Hand Hovering -or Forcefully arrived
Dare Diminish the Centuries of Irish Celtic Pride
Never Taken Never Borrowed Never Given as a Gift
From hilly top to turf down flat to misty sea adrift

Thus was the day that born
When Robert Emmet Arrived
Thus was the day that born
When an Irishman had Died


Details | Free verse | |

Another Day in Quicksand

Looking left
Looking right
You see these faces
Such a grim sight.
Mortars howl
A tanks low growl
The hi-pitch ringing sounds.
Running forward
Through mud and grime
You take battle stance
On the front line.
Save all your prayers
For you have lost today
The world ends for you
On the count of three.
One,
Take heed and breath.
Two,
Squeeze softly 
Three...
Let this bullet grow your wings.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Idol

Look at me,above you all
Glorybound until I fall
With all your hearts to me you call
Worshipping this idol on a pedestal
Through ignorance you bow to me
Blind to truth,I am all you see
Your belief is my will to be
Though just a piece of rock,empty
Now a god born to your pleas
A sacrilege and blasphemy
You have spent your lives and energy
to make a chunk of stone become part of History
In the end you see me fall
Crumbling from my pedestal
It is too late for apostasy
For all of your souls you have lost
          to me!!!


Details | Verse | |

When Anger Takes Over

There will be a time when anger takes over.
And all other emotions fade.
Where madness turns to power,
To which diesies are made.

Where the people who think that they own the world,
Who have hatread swelling around them in curls,
Allow the poor to cry out in hunger,
And the rich to eat till they hurl.

Then the monsters that don't like others,
And think that they all should die,
Lock them up in lice ridden cells, 
While they laugh, and say it gives them a good high.

How life above, up in the sky,
Will even fall to its torcher.
They'll start wars, create plagues,
Until one cannot even trust they're mother.

But for those who were lost somewhere in the middle,
Were given a gental gift.
The man who came upon the day,
And hoped to kill anger will a holy riddle.

The children had come upon the streets,
And sat on the man's soft knee.
They learned of love and caring,
Which filled the streets with glee.

Then one day, while the new year raged on, 
The people came with harsh accusations.
He had told of love
He had defied the nations.

The man had tried to end anger,
But failed.
Anger had won, it finished its deed.
They made fun of him as his life was taken through hatread that was nailed.

Into the earth.
Life.
Everything.
With a horrid, angry force of sheer strife.

No more emotions on the rise.
Only broken hearts,
And starless skies,
And people throw angry darts.

There will come a time when anger will take over.
And all other emotions fade.
Where Hitlers, and Satans run the world.
And the earth's death bed is made.






Details | Free verse | |

Border area (Grenzgebiet)

"This bilingual poem is for people who live between two borders and who have two decide
everyday how to manage their day between bombs and hatred, even if they want to live in
peace."


>Grenzen<
erscheinen grenzenlos,
wenn grenzenlose Wut
gebieterisch Hass schürt
und sich dennoch
ehemals begrenzte Gemüter
dem Grenzfreien öffnen,
um so die Grenzwälle
zwischen Grenzen zu sprengen,
um endlich grenzfrei zu sein.

>Borders<
seem to be boundless
if boundless rage
stirs up immeasurably hatred
and nevertheless
erstwhile limited people
open their minds for borderfree thinking
for blowing up the border walls
between frontiers
to be finitely boundless.


Details | I do not know? | |

Fragments Of Life

Fragments and crumbs of life, all the little pieces.
Distant yet echoed through the listless years.
Grinding all emotion together in pain and love
and the melting begins to twist all the 
emotions into a spiral of hopelessness.
The fragment awakes.
and i find i missed the years of hope.
Hissing like snakes
tied around my neck like a rope!
Desolate and drenched in despair.
but a new hope enters with a different air.
Fragments entwined 
to form what's inside.


Details | I do not know? | |

War of Red

Underneath blood red sky there was an unforgettable fire,
burning away hopes and dreams into a blaze of smouldering ash.

Unheard screams with surprised attacks stabbed in the back
by enemy hands drawing guns and blowing up homes taking land,
with prisoners of war stuck in cells of hellish confinement.

Black clouds loom overhead with many soldiers dead,
many families severed  with broken limbs and aching hearts
crying over the loss of their loved ones.

Weeping in sorrow not thinking about tomorrow with memories
lingering beneath  the blood red sky.


Details | Quatrain | |

A Deep Rooted Doubt

December 21, 2012!  ‘The day our world comes to an end’, is how the rumor flies
A deep-rooted doubt exists, as past predictions have all been so wrong.
Those last days of centuries past have  come and gone, like whistles in the wind
While Father Time just keeps on ticking oblivious to the song!

I imagine how broad is his smile when rumors hit the media scene 
Many worry, and plan for that “final” day, needless to say, hearts weep
Amongst scientists, and well known historians, this time, possibility may exist
But what can I do?  I’m no Amazon, barefoot, at five-feet three 

If by chance, it’s the end, could I possibly save myself?  My “plate’s already full”!
All it’d take to end my world is a strong current and a, three-foot wave
Maybe an unexpected lighting bolt if caught up in a storm. For these, caution will suffice
Out of my control; will not waste time as my life I can not save


Details | Rhyme | |

Futurology

Hapless hopes of a civilized world
Have been prophesized and repeatedly told
But what’s the point of such a tale?
When all we do is miserably fail

When wars are fought and blood is spilt
No one cares coz there’s no guilt
When children die of strife and pain
No one cares, there’s no disdain.

That’s the world we live in now
Murky plains with a desolate row
Warm to the touch, but frozen within
Static in a planet of corruptive sin

If smart men know from A to Zed
Why can’t they realize the mistakes of the dead?
Yet we live out normal lives
Replenishing our souls, where evil thrives

Corrupted we stand
Holding in our hands
The blood and dirt from far away lands

That’s what we are
Drifting afar
Our souls are black as road-bound tar

But time goes on
And walks forth life
Piercing through reality
Like a murderous knife

Darkness falls
With end of days
Black and White
At which we gaze

Brings out sorrow
Brings out pain
Pulling at our conscience
Driving us insane

Deceptive dreams of truthfulness
Haunt our waking sleep
Yet we lie without a reason
Because we’re in too deep

In truth we’re nomads
Lost in a desert of lies
The darkness seems to shield us
From all the shame and sighs  

But if we’re lost and waiting to be found
Why do we sit still without making a sound?
Maybe darkness is what we need
For Satan to arrive and take the lead

As we wonder, as we lurk
Sitting in the murk
Satan smirks
Awaiting the arrival of us - the hell-bound berks!


Details | Free verse | |

The Night of Unleavened Bread

Matzos slip into their mouths
Voices project merrily...tonight is
The night of Unleavened Bread

Lamb and other delicious
Meats and veggies... satisfies our taste buds 
What a splendid night it is!

Wine's brewin' in our wine cups
The dinner table - creates pleasant talk 
During this meaningful night

There's moments of quietude 
When it comes to de-leavening our lives
But, there's moments of gladness

On this night of peacefulness
Cheesecake - a delightful treat to savor 
During this night of pure bliss


Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part 4)

You regret your foolish disclosure, as you confessed to be a cold hearted lover for she was 
lost of hope n’ sacrificed herself from this crest for her love for you consumed her totally, 
though her broken heart, in the care of the angels choir, now sings reforged in the fires of  
immortality…
You lived your life in the garments of a scar around your heart, covered in bark, thrombosed 
to the love of another, it now cries in virtue n’ chastity from the sentient tree that consumed 
your ashes n’ dust in the grave at the top of the crest by the sea…

I give to you Poet my blessing, so you can relinquish your guilt n’ pain of love’s abandoning 
from the bed of blame you made of your grave, for your quill is at peace till your 
homecoming into this world, my sweet poet come back to me…
For time was your crest from this day you have leapt, you are forgiven my love so rise, let 
go your purgatory n’ perhaps one day we will meet once again as your soul escapes the 
gravity of captivity, now owlish n’ wise let it fly to our destiny…

Though not a word is spoken in these moments of conjuration from a lover long gone in an 
age of castles n’ quests by the sea, it stormed all night n’ I remained by your grave side till 
sunrise n’ the flame in your eyes became the Immortal’s fire to reforge a tarnished heart, 
for your tortured soul now understands n’ through the flames your mind will follow…
Now I see the picture you have painted in the illusion of the rainbow n’ I sense the birth of 
humility n’ grace as the sun breaks through the storm clouds, for your poem of remorse 
finally rests n’ you my love are reborn with angel wings to ride mother earth’s breath…


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Buried Treasure

All that I counted gain was but loss 
(In the spots whereto Latency teems). 
On cut, polished stones in fields of dreams, 
Each pirate's loot was marked with a cross,  
Where dreamers and their dreams were serried; 
The tollbooth had lulled them all to sleep 
Within the interment parcels, deep, 
Hidden in earthen vessels buried  
In plain view on these treasure islands; 
Panegyrics soon voiced his pleasures 
Of unknown descendants' veiled measures 
Of wisdoms covered on these highlands,  
Boxed with talents, volumes, inventions, 
Signed with this epitaph on each tomb- 
"Potential sealed up after the womb 
Will pave this road with good intentions.  
Thus, rob your own grave, enlarged since birth, 
Of pains, knowledge, and the fear to fail; 
True Natures make known your visions well; 
Empty your treasure-troves upon earth."


Details | Free verse | |

Dreams Interpretation

When all of lifes moments come undone promise
In chasing after such a pipe dream
She then waited for me at ocean's side to hide
Inside alone wanting for warm words

To hide the pain to fan its flame yet still in the game
The interpretation of a dream
She waited inside for a kiss;
So very sorry that I had missed,

From a great distance the ocean waves sometimes
Draw back the curtains with a warm smile
The interpretation of a dream to walk the mile
The family was soon drawn together

She let me know how she felt inside,
On Summer's glade of twilight night
With lines drawn in the sand
Keep your slate clean when to understand

We each possess a certain quality.


Details | Narrative | |

Battle of Manila

My great, great, Uncle who fought in the
 Spanish-American War, although this was 
long before my time I was proud, my hero…

As told to me, he was in the Battle
 of Manila, he lost his life on March 30, 1899
 in this Battle…

Sending all the bodies of the heroes who 
fell on the Manila battlefield were brought
 to their respective homes…

The boy who gave his life for his 
country in the Spanish and Philippine
 Wars, arrived in Osceola Monday 
at 10:45 a.m. for burial near his
 family home…

War is a terrible thing, but freedom
 Is not free and it is a must!

By Sandra Lea Hoban
©2012


Details | I do not know? | |

Villiage Witch

Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Husband died, left her side.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Beauty lost, feelings frost.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Jealous looks, stolen chooks.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Illness lurks, Devil’s work.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Unexplained, someone blamed.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
House of clay, easy prey.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
See her frown, hunt her down.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Pitchfork, fire, bring the squire.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Find his mark, all things dark.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Greatest sin, duck her in.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
No more breathes, Devil leaves.
Old,
Alone,
Crippled,
Breathing still, we shall kill.
Old…
Alone…
And crippled…


Details | Light Poetry | |

Gone But Not Forgotten { Footle}

Laid Wreath
      Good Greif







In Loving Memory
Of Our Fallen


Details | Triolet | |

The Dream

~A tribute to “The Slave's Dream” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~ 


One night the slave had a nice dream.
And in the dream he was just free. 
He heard sounds of freedom's bold scream.
One night the slave had a nice dream. 
And saw the light of liberty's gleam.
No more felt flesh by whips just bleed. 
One night the slave had a nice dream. 
And in the dream he was just free. 



Details | Blank verse | |

War Scars

War…
Pools of blood surround me
Comrades lay by my feet with every step I take
What is it that’s worth fighting for?

Supposed enemies…
Their filmy eyes unblinking lay open
The vision of the family they were to see still dances in their eyes
They had dreams too!

Their daughters…
Their sons…
Their wives…
Their parents…
Their duties lie within their eyes like an open book

This is pointless…
Their visions are my visions and I still see both
War is always in vain…


Details | Rhyme | |

A Shameful Few

Chip away at the surroundings,
To get to the spoils inside.
Mindless of devastation,
Or the pain as a nation cries.

Off in a new direction,
The agenda must be upheld.
Global unification?
A very grim fairy tale!

Greed on their back as they pillage,
Warmongers with hue and cry!
Fodder sent home in a wooden box,
As more and more people still die!

Freedom and liberty long gone,
As we are snared in the tellers net.
Peasants and squires of near future.
In the worst game of risk ever yet!

Stolen and lost are our rights
As the parasites hold their heads high!
Choking on lies as they spew their untruths
As to why the next country must die!

Nothing it seems will stop them,
Hell bent on their mission it seems.
The ruination of the world...
As they crush its inhabitants dreams!

Turning on their own people
People they should try and protect.
When that trust is gone it’s all over,
Because what do the people have left?

Civilized nations turned monster
By the leaders consumed with greed
No happily ever after....
Just the planting of evil’s seed!

Chip away at the surroundings,
To get to the spoils inside.
Mindless of devastation,
Or the pain as a nation cries!


Details | Blank verse | |

In The Wake Of Tragedy (London: 07/07/05)

The event of tragedy blossomed,
That carnivorous wave of terror,
Caromed through the capital,
Down subways and thoroughfares,
Horrified the gaping senses
And surged through the echoing chasms,
The divides of the unholy,
And the gulfs of the unjust.

In a bleak ricocheted wake,
Left no blank resignation,
Or mere shrugging of shoulders
As if cold blooded and detached;
Evolved a unified populace
Grieving resolute and defiant,
As they arched down in reverence
In that two minute silence.

Swelled the dream iconography
Of human souls in mortal battle,
And the blood-stirring prose
Of the old past master speeches;
Fell a faint dust of resonance
Blown from reminisced prophecies,
Foretelling times when the streets
Run with rivers of blood.

Therein the wake of tragedy stung
In the mourning lungs of the living,
Feeling thorny and vibrant,
Tasting earthy and tart;
Instead of cancer and wasteland
The first blackberry roses bloomed,
In the gardens of futures
Landscaped by the past.


Details | Rhyme | |

HOLD UP THAT SWORD

Hold up that sword
when truth is violated...
don't destroy everything and everyone:
only evil must end for peace to survive!
Fight better than a warrior with a bloody urge
who seeks victory and revenge;
what satisfaction is there in being alive...
after all enemies are wounded and gone?
They would never learn love, but die tormented
as marthyrs, slaves and peacemakers have!


Hold up that sword,
by speaking your command
when peace is broken
and havoc spreads quicker than fire...
to bring all another dire:
remember Attila when he ransacked Rome?
Chalithra, have more compassion
towards mortified people who have been exploited:
you must explain to them that's wrong to be enslaved...
without having the vision of a place called, " Home. "


Barbarians were those who trashed everything
and killed, but they lived in different times:
violence against order and civility;
today there's another evil arising:
greed for power against truth and humility...
Chalithra, carefully choose your allies!


Character: Chalinthra


Details | I do not know? | |

Sacred Battlefields

Sacred battlefields, ages old
land now silent as death itself
bodies that lie where strewn in battle
become one with the earth for all eternity.
Mighty lands once cloaked in beauty
now lie covered in the life's blood
of brave men, who with their last breath
fight to defend that which they have known
and believed since birth
that to die for ones belief(s) is true and just.
This, a warriors creed, his one constant
held within his very soul through the ages.
Deaths blackened sting knows no boundaries
all soon fall prey to its deadly siren call
his life's travels have all led to this same end.
With  battle sword raised to the heavens
a warriors fierce battle cry, forged out of anger
echoes across the land for all to heed.
The battle raged on through days end
few left standing ...  brave men all
with fighting strength expended
freely given to protect, for the future
the same ancient lands, borne of his ancestors
upon which he stands today.


Details | Monorhyme | |

Rufus Dufas

once came a man of civil tongue
spoke of another poet for what he has not done
tattered his name across the morning daily sun
depicted depraved drunk even a drug-addled madman he was none
since 1842 grudges just for some weird kind of fun
Rufus Wilmot Griswold  Mr editor got his gun
posted Edgar Allen Poe Was Dead died in Baltimore the day before yesterday I just shunned
If this is what memoir of the author is I may be as well as be done
But believing in and still reading Poe's work I have forever keepsakes of suspense and fun


Tribute To Poe



Memoir Of The Author
Rufus Wilmot Griswold
Editor

Also Entry For Brian Strand's
Adaption Contest


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Cadeyrm - Battle King

The battle hardened warrior
stood solemnly upon the war torn land
the battlefield before him covered
with the life's blood of his warriors
battle armour, sword and shield
lay strewn across the land.
Flags fluttered in the breeze
as grim testimony to the fierce
and bloody battle which before
his very eyes had been bravely fought
with his fellow countrymen giving their lives
for that which they had sworn to defend
the very land upon which death now ruled.
His warrior Queen by his side
her allegiance to him the same
as those who had come before her
she swore to give her life, if called upon
for her Lord! her King! her Husband!
The ground, soaked with the blood
of warriors young and old
lay open before them
like that of a bloody wound
received victouriously in battle.
The once pristine beauty of the land
upon which they now stood
lay clenched in deaths mighty grip
a stark reminder of the ravages of battle.
With a warriors cry long born of anger
his sword raised to the heavens
he vowed his life's blood
that those who lay before him would be avenged.
As he turned to walk away
he heard the shrill call of an eagle overhead
this was to him a sign
felt throughout his very soul
that his cry had been heard
and he knew he would be victorious in his quest.


Details | Rhyme | |

TRAGEDY IS A SPINNING WHEEL

Tragedy is a spinning wheel
which stops at its own will,
and when it does an earthquake, flood or tsunami strikes
poisoning the pristine environment, wiping out endless lives....
such was the fate of unlucky Japan,
the island off the Asian mainland.


When destruction was everywhere and fear was deep,
people miserably wept searching for survivors through the debris and mud...
feeble voices were occasionally heard from underneath;
how helpless, and frustrated and sad they felt not to be able to pull them out!
Fakushima resembled a graveyard with sprawled corpses,
unfolding the horror of a massive catastrophe before their saddened eyes.  


Let's show our heartfelt sympathy
with a kindness which surpasses all credibility,  
remembering that tragedy is a spinning wheel
never telling where it will stop to make a kill...
and as Japan asks for our help, we should gladly offer it
with open hearts and arms and they will thank us for it.


Details | Free verse | |

This Dream To You! MLK Honored







I could have run, And tried to hide.
When God said, "Go against the tide."
Preach Unity, And never fight.
All races on earth, Have equal rights.
In Peace and Love, "I Have A Dream."
No prejudice, or hatred, Life Serene!
I could have tried, To run and hide.
But either way, I would have died.
So I chose, To carry on.
To show in peace, We can be strong.
"I Have A Dream." It must come true!
And now God gives, This Dream To You..

------- Author's Notes -------

In Honor of Martin Luther King Jr . On his birthday January 21st


Details | Light Poetry | |

Optimism's Gift

Let the past empower not devour you, 
blink that third eye dry and let the cowards prove, 
that fear effects domination, 
as power hungry demons were starving for confirmation, 
I'm hardly a conversation, I'm starting the conservation of energy through my being for seeing a brighter nation.
I can no longer ponder another's fixation with digression, 
my ears remain ready for confusing confessions, 
but they attempt selling the words from concession, 
I won’t drop or lessen my positive light, I ask, is a spiritual battle still a cognitive fight? 
Yes the most vital, let this bible unfold and be told with no title, 
don't mistake envy of state of being for actions suicidal, 
I just wish to prove yolo wrong, come back as a spirit so you may hear it in a song or another form of expressed emotion, so we can progress once the earth hits lost commotion, 
take some love and meditation and conjure up the potion 
as the earth's still in motion, if the leaders here would tell the truth I'd identify promotion. But what do I know I'm twenty with no college, undermined for not conforming to mainstream knowledge. Spirit, Love and Peace will grow soon, once we've vacated the station and choose to change tune


Details | I do not know? | |

CLOCK

In the vast beauty and diversity
                 of the reaches of the cosmos
           impresses upon us all
the shear minute dust we are
                 in any comparison
The simplicity of laws
            that govern it's most basic
     and complex movements
Birth , Life , Death
                 some would distain this as "circular"
as the patterns in creation are
for all things existing within its confines
the birth , life , death of stars   , galaxies
entropy and the recirculation of those elements
into new structures encased
                 in the womb for new material
apply equally to the diversity of structures
                 cycling on the little blue marble
seed  sprout   bush    tree     seed 
seed  sprout   plant    flower     seed
seed   baby    child     adult       seed
same  down    onthe   cellular    level
same  down    tothe    atomic     level 
                 and its clock
in a state of perfectly circular self propagation
For those who foolishly accuse us of being
 
                   CIRCULAR
 
Let me explain              a simple something
     how we measure time in the cosmos
 
is based on a circular orbital movement of planets
                      and stars
and as for thinking
are questions seeking answers which just
                     lead to more questions
 
          and that's the beauty of it
 
       simplicity defines even the most
        complex systems that function
 
right down to the circuit boards for computers
        and technology
 
Mama      seals     it      with     Kiss
        Keep it simple stupid
 
anyone who doesn't know
a clock embedded in the universe
has not recognized his own 

Ecc 8:17
9:5-10
 
COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Lyric | |

never forget 9-11

On that day we were all the same, we didn't know there faces, we didn't know 
there names.
There voices we heard crying all around the world, someones loving father, 
someones little girl.
On that day we were called to lead a better life, for that someones father, for that 
someones wife.
The list of souls read from above before it came below why it was and why it is the 
answer no one knows.
Through the pain we have learned lessons great and small, life, love, and happiness 
are precious cherish them all.
With grace we all go on, but never will we forget that all of these beautiful things 
can fade so very quick.
On that day we wondered, on that day we cryed, on that day we asked ourselves 
what kind of man am I?
Mothers held there children for so long and oh so tight, why did these people have 
to go this was not there fight.
We hope and pray for all those names, and the ones they left behind they gave 
their life for a question the answer we must find.

William J. Harty


Details | Free verse | |

funeral pyre

funeral pyre

from the virgin flat plains
soared a modern funeral pyre 
that stood so high
it could be seen miles away
with the naked eye

whose dense black smoke 
released into the pure blue sky that day
the last drawn breath of many
waddling padded foot babies

like the silver blade from a heavy ancient sword
slaying the life of an innocent
white fleece lamb
too many died that day
in the heartland



Details | I do not know? | |

The Clock At Zero Hour

The clock at zero hour
freezes in the ivory tower,
with a face fixed to extol
a chime of midnight for the soul.

When the hands will sweep no more
the whistle-blower snares the corps,
studied with alarmist eyes
this life expectancy of flies.

Is the waiting so severe,
with the outcome yet unclear,
that the mind may not conceive
when death is gnawing at the sleeve?

Never once the dogs of war
retracted savage tooth or claw,
so what organic could withstand
this butcher’s yard in no man’s land?

Roll out a circus ruled by freaks,
where hangs an atmosphere that reeks
of desperation and dismay
and generations blown away.

The clock at zero hour
bates the breath and tramps the flower
in the grist of flesh and mud,
petals drowned in death and blood.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Lonely March

In a far distant galaxy
Many, many miles from earth
There is a planet called Fortrex
It lies barren and hurt
 
The race are called Zodians
With their animal type murex
And a hideous beast
Of which they call a vodex
 
An intergalactical war
That we could never imagine
Ripped a race apart
Survivors left to begin
 
In beaten retreat
Their battered souls
March in scatter
Victims of wars goal
 
To their mountains they head
As they look to regroup
This proud ancient race
In battle scarred stoop

This scene all reminds us
Of histories past
Dunkirk in Europe
Through the waters they marched

A Germany beaten
As their troops march home
Many never made it
Like us, many will roam

If we moved to the next Galaxy
Made a quadrant our home
Would we be safe forever
Or forever comb

Until that time
We will live in our hills
For how long we will be safe
Before more blood spills




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-4.php



Details | Free verse | |

Diamonds, Diamonds

Leave me in the Garden of Eden,
To witness life form and rivers begin 
to roll,
Naked but clothed in innocence,
Immortality has been placed within 
my grasp,
Animals, colossal beasts fall under 
my authority,
Every fruit and flower is offered to 
sustain me, save one,
Why do I want for what is 
forbidden, what will do me harm?
Every inch of this utopia is
entrusted to my care,
I will not fall into folly,
She is so radiant, shimmering 
diamonds are like as dust,
Born of my flesh and bone, the 
apple of my eye,
Her voice is my only weakness, the 
only chink in my armor,
As of now I know nothing of death 
but I would sacrifice myself for her,
The serpent struck while she 
wandered alone,
He enticed her to trade paradise for 
a bite,
Her mind freed, she introduces me 
to sin,
I must endure the face of beautiful 
temptation,
I feel the shift as the fruit touches 
my lips,
As as we hear God traversing the 
garden, we hide,
Clothed in fig leaves we face the 
Maker,
With trembling knees we accept the 
consequences,
With backs turned, cast out and 
disgraced,
The sword of the captain of angels 
bars the gate,
Sentenced to a life of hardship and 
anguish,
We will forever lament choosing 
death over life


Details | Free verse | |

Divided in two

Two parallel Worlds divide my body and mind in two.

One World holds my heart, while the other holds my limp body.

One World shows the life i'v held in my heart, where there is good and there is bad, but everything in that World always ends in good.

The other World shows the life i'v feared for years, where there is nothing but bad, but everything ends in death.

I'v lived in both Worlds.
I'v hurt in both Worlds.

Both seem neither good nor bad at times.

But the funny thing is... 
OUR world today is what those two Worlds have become.

( If you may PLEASE comment of Mail me. Sorry i havn't been on in a long time... ALOT has happened this year to me)



Details | Rhyme | |

Holocaust Day of Remembrance

Note:  Every year the government sets aside a Day of Remembrance for the 
Holocaust.  This year it is the first week of May.  Please share this with everyone so 
that none of us or our children ever forget.


They rounded us up one day in the rain
Herded us into a cattle-car train
We were just Jews, it was simple and plain
The pain – we must always remember

When the train stopped there were so many dead
Ushered into two groups, tears were all shed
Weak ones culled out and away they were led
That said – we must always remember

None of this ever has made any sense
Staying alive in good health our defense
We'd spend every day praying out by the fence
Consequence – we must always remember

At night we would gather and in silence we pray
Pray that we make it through one more day
What tomorrow would bring – no one could say
Today – we must always remember

Each morning we’d line up; they’d walk down the rows
Deciding who lives; deciding who goes
Each morning we’d pray that we weren’t one of those
God knows – we must always remember

And the stench in the camp from the ovens by noon
Reminded us all of our impending doom
Relief from this hell-hole could not come too soon
Repugn – we must always remember

There were thousands of us left back in the damp
In our bunks, in the ovens, or the cattle-car ramps
And surviving this ordeal left its own stamps
The camps – we must always remember

So each year we gather on Remembrance Day
To honor the loved ones who have passed away
And the horrible price that they had to pay
We pray – we will always remember


Details | Free verse | |

For 15 minutes.

I will put my half blood in a huge metal can.
Take it for chemical analysis.
So as to see my beliefs and my perception,
my vision and my aspirations.
Those i loved and others i hated.
With my other half i will paint in brick walls.
At the top,maby above all,
i will write these two words.
NO MORE
NO MORE
And then i will go to the store with aquariums.


Details | Free verse | |

good cop

Good Cop                                                                                                                       You're a cop.                                                                                                                          In Hitler's Fatherland, Nazi Germany, 1964.                                                                                                 Little more than a rookie.                                                                                              Normally catching petty criminals and hookers in dark alleys.                                                        A call came through, a body in the woods.                                                                               You the cop, first on scene.                                                                                                   Little did you know that you, the cop, would bring everything crashing down like a house of cards.                                                                                                                      By investigating this crime, you the cop, sent fissures right to the top of the Nazi regime.                                                                                                                                     Secrets spread forth like acid; burning everybody.                                                                              The death of a race, the Jews.                                                                                      Extinct.                                                                                                                                    Retired top Nazi murderer told you, 'Not a brick remains. The Jews are in the East.'                                                      You knew you had to see with your own eyes, you the cop.                                                             Where it happened.                                                                                                                        So you went to Poland and saw.                                                                                          There were bricks there; moss covered, dirty and half buried.                                                                 What untold story did they tell?                                                                                                 Millions of ghosts hovered around you.                                                                               Crying for justice, permanent release.                                                                                                    As the SS came for you, you knew the cost - your life.                                                       With Kennedy visiting, you got the secret out.                                                                                     By forsaking your life, you collapsed the most evil regime in human history.                                                                            Ended Hitler's reign of terror, allowing peace to ignite.
edits look fine here. on final post after edit some text is out of line. not as bad as epub system i use tho which screws up word 2007 onwards. oddly word 03 is fine. hit enter key, text on next line. not like carppy 07 onwards. progress huh? yea right...



Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part 1)

On a windswept hill crest by the sea there is a lonely ancient sentient tree that seems so 
figuratively familiar to me, I wonder why this can be n’ who my heart longs for when
I’m here n’ why love gives no guarantee…
Though I visit here frequently, today I was summoned, beckoned by the branches of this 
solitary tree swaying in the breeze, to this charming yet purgatorial space...

I knelt down upon this strange magical place n' was carried away as my fingers traced an 
owl’s feather to my face n’ wondered why I loved n’ despised this fateful place…
My body shivered, internally tingling n’ with grace, some kind of enlightened knowing I could 
not erase n' like the sentient tree that cradles you within, I sensed your ethereal embrace…

Silence ends where you begin, I heard the likes of Aeolian sing “Oh my Immortal”  n’ your 
poetic voice disturbed the chaos in the winds of my mind n’ there within returned the 
memory of your handsome androgynous face…
I said… “Come let my hands play upon your skin” n with my thoughts gathering to replay a 
scene across time of broken hearts n’ love’s abandoning reflected in the fire of your eyes n’ 
a touch of a feather upon my face…

I’ll never know your name or how many tears were cried in the oceanic depths of your 
pleasure n’ pain, though the salt I can taste in the tempest of this darkening day as the wind 
heralds your scent n’ presence unto me…
I’ll never know all who walked hand in hand here before me or where each discarded shell 
has been as the seasons flew away, yet I now know why a thousand Halloweens were  your 
destiny n’ you summoned me to transcend my mortality n’ the meaning of silent words at 
play this day…

Our ancient bodies lay together here beyond mortal touch, though in my present existence I 
no longer recall our names, they are lost in my many lifetimes yet kept in the Goddess’s 
providence…
Though no longer you feel my touch or pleasure n’ pain I'll plant a flower as a blessing on 
top of our grave, above the waves, where your soul is a slave to this sentient tree cradling 
your ashes n’ bones returned to dust…


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Diary Of An SS Man

They tell us to be fanatical at all cost even if it means all of German life will be 
lost, i look back on the early days when the talk of war was still a haze believe 
they said always believe in the fuhrer he commands we follow now it seems 
those words were hollow.

Now I sit here facing death with great sorrow I guess it's my fault I signed my life 
over to the SS with out a thought but we were the master race the very best 
Hitler's SS with his will we were blessed. What went wrong national socialism was 
so very strong Himmler would say to us only in nazism and the Nazi SS would 
fortune give us freedom or should I not blame my self or the nazis but the 
common enemy international Jewry, which I guess is now were I make my death 
bed the Reich is in ruin the fuhrer is dead the symbol of the SS our figure head 
chose to abandon us instead.

I guess there is nothing left but I'll be damned if I fight till the death no longer will I 
blame another now I'll try and return home and find my mother and little brother
god willing they survived  this holocaust of lies. Speaking of holocaust yes it true
the nightmare the Jews encountered was because of us the SS it was the fuhrers 
will and some consider it a thrill the rest of us found it extremely ill to kill innocent 
folk but they were Jews.

I guess I don't have to explain it to you I felt compelled to write this poem in 
hopes that one day the world will see we weren't all sadist just brainwashed by 
the promise of paradise to any one would sound nice. It's over any way nazism is 
gone washed away I stand here before you a simple man who got caught up in a 
awful murderous plan man's darkest hour that gave him so much power.

Cole Hodson
copyright (C) 2006


Details | Verse | |

widow clarkes cabin

surrounded by untouched Forrest way out back in the carriboo, o a place where i grew up nestled deep in the woods , our cabin, Dreams became a reality hard work we built our cabin , deeded by the crown, peace, and paradise .Our home to last lifetimes great grandchildren's children, beside the deepest clearest fresh water lake the loons , shimmering moon light, feeling the waves like the heart beat of Mother earth as the winds gently carried our voices in prayer no is only heart aches and despair taken away mining and logging selling our dreams like death that keeps endlessly haunting Clarke's cabin out at cougar bay, native women widow today's damages so much like the past


Details | Rhyme | |

The Day America Stood Still

It just took one day
To grab our attention
There’s not much to say
But lots of reflection.

The airplanes they flew
Wreaking havoc on all
No one had a clue
That the towers would fall.

Such cowards with hate
They claimed so many lives
On that terrible date
Left husbands without wives.

So many were lost
Our sisters and brothers
Their lives were the cost
Plus fathers and mothers.

Many stood with awe
They were asking why
For what they just saw
Coming out of the sky.

Such terror and fear
And so quickly they hit
The end may be here
Should I run, stand or sit?

The heroes did save
As many as they could
For their lives they gave
Not knowing that they would.

People hung their flags
Keeping their families near
Many body bags
This horror wasn’t clear.

Honoring that morn
Our eyes begin to fill
The world was torn
America stood still.


Details | Senryu | |

in the dark of night

in the dark of night
they found the  most wanted man
and his life's details


Details | Rhyme | |

Pearl Harbor

Bury me not
In an old church plot
Back in my hometown
No, bury me
Beneath the sea
Where my Navy mates went down
Please take me back
To that day of attack
Pearl Harbor in 41
I’d like my remains
With all of those names
When my time is finally done
I fought beside
So many who died
There on that fateful day
Just grant me this
As my dying wish
That I rest where my shipmates still lay

Mdailey	12/7/11

There was an article in the local newspaper about Pearl Harbor survivors having their ashes buried there in the harbor.  I just had to write this poem.



Details | Free verse | |

9:11 PM on 9-11

9:11 PM on 9/11

(1st line: 9 syllables
2nd line: 11 syll.'s

1st line: 9 syllables
2nd line: 11 syll.'s
etc.)

I give honor to those heroic 
Individuals who have sacrificed their lives 

Thanks, everyone, who viewed this day with
Reverence, consideration and meekness 

For all who passed away on this day – 
I’m sorry to hear of the destruction you

Saw with terror and grief…soon, there will 
Be peace on Earth…Rest in Peace and rise in Mirth 

Ev’ry year, when this day comes, sorrow
Sweeps over me…at nine eleven PM

Chaos will keep on brewing…grab the
Rope of hope…We need the Divine Savior soon…

For all who are grieving on this day,
I’d like to hand you a handkerchief…don’t weep!

Take heart, you cold-blooded Terrorists
Who p-planned on taking down the Twin Towers

Rest in peace…when you all awaken, 
Be in High Spirits, you splendid sunrises

Written by me ~  
This poem is dedicated wholeheartedly to the 9/11 event ~


Details | Free verse | |

Torn

A bridge in maze through shift it gaze

Torn

From pillars being built in monuments to the sun;
A mouth to live yet viable led scorn,
In truth will learn as chivalry turn to worst;
Born under a bad sign in rudimentary fragmented parts...

Sheer brilliance led to essential eloquence,
Supernatural...
Torn,
I see a gate negate to climb

In distant fervor swept from behind
One in twain yet marked on its blotted page fully intact;
The deception lies in you amidst a shade of thorns,
Branded by ivy delusional thought provoking pitch,

A mind blinded lying headlong in a ditch...

In sunlight we gasp for air through pillars in illustrative thought
Torn between the world I know
Then to escape into the one I wish to go
A soul harvest to its plain;

The ghastly pitch lest I refrain again,

The light on the charitable offering still shines;
A tongue in cheek sublime rhyme,
Fought back its silence to numb its pain escape
A slide to cope in a favorable episode explode;
With no shelter to cry the outset of the fall
In silence its refusal of the slight of hand
To once again greet the average no it all
Fought back its silence to numb its pain once again
To shine in episodes of discipline within
Higher elements of discomfort & scorn
Torn

A bridge of light once again  to push away its pain within
A slope to cope a guard to wear;
Briars and silence amidst harlots with pain
The toll of lost lovers let lose in my brain
Torn
In episodes of anger
In the creative reply to things;
In destination of negate vile authority
Blinded by things that don't even please
Torn

~
Socialized wandering wizards in a heavy garb of compromise

Devastation in mass anhiliation the saga of paradise lost
Torn
With heads of state in vile treatment of hate
No sense to delegate or leave it up to fate!
~
Torn


Details | I do not know? | |

Blacks

It’s like we’re doing them people a favor
Showing them, that we own up to what they say;
Stereo types isn’t the way,
But we as blacks are proving them right..
They believe that we’ll kill eachother before the 
Last night,
& all our women
 gone fall a victim to the streets,
Weak minded;
Not even having our children anything to eat..
The only good thing we got going for ourself
Is education,
& that aint gone support the whole nation..

Come on nie,
We gotta take stand!
Teach our children how to believe in
Themselves,
Show our mothers that they
Can make it without a man!
Prove to our fathers,
That they’ll regret they 
Neglected us!
Tell our brothers the
“Freak” that noise,
& Stop that fuss!
Its like we all against 
Eachother, 
But it shouldn’t be this way,
We gotta get it together some day;
Them people know what they doing…
Pretending to solve these crimes,
But knowing their using the same line,
Only place they wanna see us is the cemetery,
Hmm..
Or maybe jail?
But if we don’t make there,
Best to believe:
They hoping we on the
High way to hell,
But we gotta prove em’ 
Wrong,
Its been too long,
Take a stand,
Cause black women don’t need any man,
Children needa believe in themselves,
Fathers should regret the neglect,
& our brothers need to stop the fuss,
I’m trying not to cuss,
But all this frustration just built up
Inside,
Its  kinda hard to hide!
Think about it:
Rosa
Parks,
Martin
Luther King,
Malcom X..
& More, fault
For our freedom;
Now we got it, 
& we abusing it,
Kinda like our fathers try our mothers,
But that’s a whole other subject,
We gotta get it together
& that’s a bet(:

Inspired by 2Pac Words of Wisdom(:


Details | Rhyme | |

Joan Of Arc

There’s a light in the sky, we know what it means,
It means the death of the Maid of Orleans,
The crowd is shouting, listen, hark,
They're saying “Death to Joan of Arc!”
The wood’s piled high, the fire’s lit,
Burn the evil heretic!
And in the centre of their cries,
There stands a young girl bound and tied,
She loved her God and fought for France,
But they killed her when they got the chance,
Throughout her life her glory shone,
And even in death her name lives on.


Details | Lyric | |

And the toil of the gods was great part 2

And the toil of the gods was great paert 2                                                                           
Soon the inescapable truth will come hurdling home once again
We may face the end of life and dreams or we may finally ascend and be reborn
Together we must forge the path forward so as one we can understand where we have been
Once again they will set out in search of sustenance for a home that’s bloody and torn
In their code they will take with then the infinite knowledge of the ancients
Another planet a different sun, light-years away more of our people toil on
Now as we face the summit and re nearer the apex we do with their absence
Too much time has passed since the first fathers came and since they had gone
This immortal spirit remains trapped within this fragile shell
Our souls and blood hold the key to a powerful wisdom but the lock evades us all
Still the war is raging no gods or demons and not for tales of heaven and hell
A boundless eternal soul is the prize, defeat will be fatal the ultimate downfall
So many questions we ponder so often oddly frequent
What evolves to feel dread or fear where’s the need to dread ones own death
A celestial being is meant to be whole and completely transient
The coming test we must not fail or we will all share our last dieing breath
The veil can be lifted and the secrets in the palms of our hands
Moving thru time hurdling in space as the universe expands
The true forms we were denied but with salvation we may return to the creation
No longer bound no longer chained and never again forsaken
They forced on us the mind now the peace and liberty must be taken
Soon will see we all die or become one aware feeling boundless wise immortal and free

				AND GOD SAID LET {US} MAKE THEM IN {OUR} 
IMAGE IN {OUR
] LIKELINESS.
HEBREW BIBLE /
  


Details | Sonnet | |

LEAVE THEM BONES ALONE

   LEAVE THEM BONES ALONE
The day we die is peace to what's the soul
to fly into and through the dark of space
We join the love of God-- death is our goal,
into the light of Him and His embrace;

But as we go, one part we leave behind
'tis physical, and what we think's the end;
and buried in the heap, if we've the mind,
or burned and scatterred to the blowing wind!

Them bones that dry won't stand the test of time;
and if there's thought to be a bit of gold;
the search is on, through earthly grist and grime
to dig us up, so that our tale is told!

The curse of time is on the diggers head;
With little thought they make love to the dead.
© ron wilson ©


Details | Rhyme | |

Harpies

With their Talons they Rip And from your Blood they sip With their poison Lip In Pain you must Dip They already know your Life's length Rate invoking every Hate This is what lies beyond the Glimmering Gate This is your Sanguinary Fate


Details | Narrative | |

IF CHRISTMAS DIDN'T EXIST

Imagine how sad December would seem
if Christmas didn't exist; only the chill
and wind would be felt through the frozen bones,
nobody would live in these northern, frigid zones. 


What was the true purpose of Jesus's birth?
Some even would say that it never occurred,
and why would the Magi travel long days
and nights to pay homage to the humblest of Kings?


It was prophesied by Isaiah in the Old testament and the Wise Men believed him,
following with awe the biggest and brightest star that they had ever seen;
and didn't it seem strange that God would choose those simple shepherds
to be the first to hear that message sung by a thousands of angels?


Wouldn't you be happy when a child cries out and enters life?
Wouldn't you celebrate that event with overwhelming joy and grace?
The same way Jesus entered this world to suffer and die,
and if Christmas didn't exist, who would remember who He was?


Wouldn't that envious angel, whom God expelled from Heaven with haste,
laugh loudly, knowing that we don't worship Him in spirit and faith? 
Fallen Angels are the eternal enemies of this Child, who atoned our sins
by paying with His precious blood...to vindicate the Devil's astute lies!


If Christmas didn't exist, some unbelievers would shout and rejoice,
happy to erase Christ's redemptive message from the earth's surface...
contradicting the Scriptures themselves and the Divinity behind it!
Didn't Herod the Great hate Jesus, fearing He would have become the new King?


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Pantoum | |

Three People Touched By Tradegy

Jimmy Waters was quite a precocious young man
School marm a mentor who understands
Parents who love him to them he is grand
In the inner city not totally safe

School marm a mentor who understands
Jimmy gunned down by those who are mean
In the inner city not totally safe
He goes threw the ghetto to get to her place

Jimmy gunned down by those who are mean
Parents who love him to them he is grand 
He goes threw the ghetto to get to her place
Jimmy Waters was quite a precocious young man


(Story loosely interpertative from It's Supernatural about a family who had one son born late 
in life and this young man would visit an elderly school teacher eveyday and help her with 
things she needed done and she encouraged him to read poetry and fine writers.  He was 
gunned down one day and he  appeared to her one day when she needed someone.)


Details | Villanelle | |

When History Cries

Men come forth
Black clouds hover, answer the call
When history cries

Upon the field, once green
Flowing red, wars bitter friend
Men come forth

Sweethearts love lost forever
Patriotism wounded, refuses to die
When history cries

Who knows the heart of warriors
Uniforms identify living and dead, ranks define
Men come forth

When next the call to arms
Forget not valor upon whose fields hero’s are born
Men come forth
When history cries


Details | Rhyme | |

Where botterflies go

where butterflies go
when summer is no more
spider webs when the clouds roll out
and the rain begins to pour
highway lights where tears dry
pavement holds the heat
sidewalk beside graffiti walls
echos from the street


Details | Haiku | |

Promiscuity's Obscurity

Promiscuity
self-indulgence, did you wreak
you, did judgement seek


Details | Rhyme | |

One Last Check

Running down the street, away from the mob.
My bloodied and torn feet, cause me to sob.
What did I do, who are these men?
Is all this true, did I commit a sin?
The night scorched, by my burning lord.
Though my loved ones torched, should I take up my sword?
These ghosts continue their hunt, shouting for my death.
Another glorious stunt, leaves me short of breath.
Shall I leave, and walk in the shadows?
Shall I believe, and hang from the gallows?
None ever escape, how could I flee?
Women subjected to rape, all because of me?
The decision so hard, what would my hero do?
My thoughts so scarred, on this day I rue.
I'll run to the seas, away from this all.
They'll not hear my pleas, for I shall not fall.
Yet as I realize they shouldn't win, I turn myself in.
Iwalk among the carnage, trying not to cry.
Bottle up my rage, with head held high.
What have I done wrong, to deserve this?
I'll sing my last song, though something is amiss.
Sitting in this hell, awaiting my Lord to take.
I cry in this cell, though I tried not to break.
Please don't worry, I'll tke this to my grave.
No one will help me, no one shall save.
I walk towards Death, yet I'm no longer afraid.
In my last breath, I spoke though these tears I've made.
The rope rest upon my neck, I'm part of this show.
With one last check, the executioner lets go.
I stare out one last time, at the crowd.
I've commited no crime, yet they're so damn proud.
I let Death take me, away from this world of hate.
They at last see, my innocence asphyxiate.


Details | Narrative | |

THE WORLD I SEE

ALL THE PLACES- ALL THE FACES
EACH ITS OWN UNIQUE BEAUTY
CREATED FROM ABOVE
DIFFERENCES UNABLE TO UNITE
WHY IS IT THAT ONLY NEGATIVITY HAS TAKEN FLIGHT?
 
ALL THE DIFFERENT PLACES
ALL THE DIFFERENT FACES
GAMES BEING PLAYED WITH HUMAN LIVES USED AS BARGAINING CHIPS 
 
THE OUTCOME DOESN’T REALLY MATTER
WITH EVERY TRIUMPH AND WITH EVERY DEFEAT
OUR HUMANITY SEEMS TO FADE FURTHER AND FURTHER AWAY
 
 ALL THESE DIFFERENT FACES 
AND ALL THESE DIFFERENT PLACES
SOULS ARE FOR SALE AND INNOCENCE IS A VIRTUE LOST
AND THERE IS NO RESPONSIBILITY TO BE HAD
 
EACH UNIQUE BEAUTY 
CREATED FROM ABOVE
DIFFERENCES UNABLE TO UNITE
I ASK MYSELF WHY IS IT THAT ONLY NEGATIVITY HAS TAKEN FLIGHT
 
SO MUCH HATRED AND SORROW TO BE SEEN IN THEIR EYES
NO TIME TO RUN AND NO PLACE TO HIDE
ESCAPE IS NO LONGER AN OPTION
 
THE TIME HAS COME FOR THE GREED AND CORRUPTION TO END
CHANGE IS THE ONLY HOPE
 
IT IS NOW TIME FOR ALL THESE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DIFFERENT FACES TO BLIND THEMSELVES FROM
THE SUPERFICIAL
THE DIFFERENCES THAT DIVIDED US IN THE PAST SHOULD BE FORGOTTEN FOR NOW WE MUST STAND TALL
AS ONE 


Details | Rhyme | |

Lost Hope

I’m riding along on this massive ship.
Titanic is the most fitting name for it.
Bold in grandeur and timeless beauty,
Downstairs neighbor to the rich and snooty.
Treated like cargo and feeling unimportant
By those who feel they are most important.
I escape my tiny quarters to go upon deck
As I feel the cold piercing the nape of my neck.
My breath creates steam as hot meets the cold.
I look into the night air, to the mysteries untold,
This journey to a place where life promises better.
I love her already and I never even met her.
Oh, America, the land of opportunities!
So excited to prosper within her communities.
Daydreams of hope are quickly interrupted
As the ship’s journey is violently disrupted.
I lean overboard to see what’s the confusion
And I hope what my eyes see is all an illusion.
Large and white, cold-hearted in the night,
An iceberg passes by invading my sight.
Shock has stopped my brain from reacting…
An unusual sound of water becomes distracting…
The water quickly covers the floor I stand on…
And all my hopes and dreams are soon to be gone.
The important don’t care about us at the bottom,
“Don’t try saving them; the water’s already got ‘em.”
I stare at the night and I don’t fight for my life.
The important has slashed my hopes with a knife.
Got us down here, alone, with no way out,
Stealing our hope only to replace it with doubt.
The water is to my stomach; I can’t feel my toes,
I find absolutely no comfort within my wet clothes.
The screams are haunting and so full of fear.
We at the bottom know our time is near.
The important at least have some kind of a chance
While we at the bottom catch a watery slow dance.
The water is to my chin and I’m frozen stiff.
My nose is too cold for me to take a sniff.
The water is to my nose and now I can’t breathe.
I can’t even stop to think how this is happening.
It all ends here in this dark, freezing ocean.
I’m too numb to feel any real emotion.
The water engulfs me as I float inside my grave,
Wishing I was somewhat important enough to save.
I’ve never met you but America, I say good-bye.
The middle of the ocean is where I am fated to die. 


Details | Light Poetry | |

Stick It To Him { Footle } Light Poetry

Vampires
           Desires

                       Holy
                               Moley

                                              Beware
                                                         Out there

                                                                       Used stake 
                                                                                He's baked





Tribute To Halloween   
 [BOOOOOOOOO} LOL

Also Entry For 
Donna Golden's   Footle Fright


Details | Light Poetry | |

Do The Wah Wah

Wah Wah
       Ha   Ha

Jimmy
      Was  He

Overdrives
       Amplifies


High Gain
     Ear  Pain

Thumb Fret
    You  Bet

B . B. King
   Idol's Zing

Hall Of Fame
  Bears His Name

  Jimmy Hendrix
      But Buster Sticks


Details | Quintain (English) | |

WW2 poem

Look back on the war
All that corruption
Caused by a world,
A world of destruction
 

All the men
Who gave their lives
And left their home
Their families, their wives
 

Hear the guns
Trilling out death
And through their helmets
All smell is their breath.
 

Into the muddy trenches again
Their retreat, their haven
With rats running over the dead
And flying over head is a lone raven
 

At the crack of dawn
The brave soldier awake
To the cry of guns
Enemies collecting every life they can take
 

They are everywhere
All their spies
Your friends, your neighbours
With evil in their eyes
 

Watch your mouth
Watch your back
If you do
You’ll remain intact
 

No real funeral
Only a shallow grave
On the battlefield
For one so brave
 

And what of the families 
They left behind
To do good
For all mankind
 

Eventually we won the war 
But at what cost?
For now we wear a poppy
To signify the ones we lost.


Details | Ballad | |

Confessions of love

         Confessions of  Love


As a nation in mourning,prepares for the war,
A way of life is changing,it can't be like before.
People feel sorrow,for all that has died,
Thousands of people dead,thousands of tears cried.
I listen to stories,as the visions are still fresh in my head.
Confessions of love,were the last words said..........
One brief second,to say goodbye,
Then the next moment,the people just died.
The dying words of many,was to say I love you.
To comfort their loved ones,when they could see it was through.
I think of those phone calls,the final goodbyes,
As a nation vows vengence,for all that has died.
Monuments of progress,lie in ruins on the ground,
As they sift through the wreakage,the bodies are found.
I think what was,and what's up ahead,
I try to understand,just too many dead.
As the leaders plan,their coarse of attack,
A sorrow starts to grow,there's no turning back.
I think of those last words,a phone call back home,
Then the spirits were extinquished,the loved one's left alone.
People light candles,hope for the best?
What happens next,is anyone's guess........
The mighty fortress of civilization,is now rubble on the ground,
More people dead,more bodies found........
The bell starts to toll,as the death toll grows higher,
Yet their dying words,were those of desire.
To try to comfort the upcoming loss,
Confessions of love,by the souls that were lost.
I think of what happened,it's just stuck in my mind,
I wonder of the future and cry for mankind.
When will all of this destruction just end?
I see it become perpetual,with intentions we send.
The acts must be punished,but when will it stop?
Then confessions of love,just rise to the top.................


Details | Free verse | |

Wealth flagship

Lift up from the rotar weeds
 Summer bleeds the last still born
 As autumn greed fights decay
 To save the date from phallic fortunes
 Gather brand new gallop horse distortions
 
Where poles putrify at stockholm
 Is this the way the world ends?
 On battery pulse with no remorse
 Sucking hospital cupid with no hope groan syndrome
 
To make alive the image
 Of fly's circling round chopper wheels
 My primal ordeal is to shake it thin
 As carcass evaporates mermaids into wave maids
 
Concrete headaches will remember the bloodline spilled
 Out the skin fold mouths of gyrating myth
 From belly up suckers that just gotta bust the date
 Wealth of the flagship sailing straight into paper fates


Details | I do not know? | |

Deprived of Love

Tears as they fall, my life has come to it's end
My soul has grown worn and tattered of hatred and strangulation
Missunderstanding has shown through your eyes
My heart can't take anymore hurt and beatings
I let out a blood curdling scream as I fall to my knees in despiration
Holding my head in my hands, trembling 
As chills go up and down my spine
I cleanch my fists and peer up at the sky
Rain drops pitter, patter on my head
Drenched in sadness
I suddenly become dizzy and my vision blurs
Feeling like I'm going to be sick
I just want you back in my arms
Back to me please may you return..
I drop from my knees to my death


-For the one who I cannot bear to live without
?


Details | Rhyme | |

There Shall Come A Great Tribulation

There Shall Come A Great Tribulation!

You’ll find In the Bible... 
In the book of Revelation.
One day... There shall come
 a great tribulation.

There shall be famine and war 
this world has never seen.
"Satan's fury" being poured 
out upon everything.

The Antichrist will appear 
as "the world leader."
"The man with all of the answers."  
"A great world healer."

People won't be able to buy or sell
 without a mark on their hand.
While corruption and wickedness 
prevails throughout the land.

Our only hope and answer during 
much chaos and anxiety.
Is Jesus.  In HIM we can 
have life abundantly!

This world shall one day 
perish and pass away.
 God's truth and his word are here to stay!

Come to Jesus now... 
He invites you to come.
Accept the gift of eternal life 
from God's precious son!

He's our only hope in this
 world which we live.
He is so patient and kind... 
willing to forgive.

Will your name be in God's 
book of life someday?
Are you ready to meet him on judgment day.

This world... or Jesus... the choice
 by you must be made.
The price for your soul... 
on Calvary... has been paid!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | I do not know? | |

A Knights Tale

Tension rises
Feel the heat beneath the visor
A swing, a duck, a roll to safety
The is not the place to be hasty

Can not faulter
For death awaits who is not wiser
A hit, a plunge, a source of pain
Who is the one that will remain


Details | Free verse | |

Poverty grows

Poverty.
Hardship and suffering
all behind society's eyes
raised by the ghetto
slums cracked lights out
scavenges for life
its gone. 
The same face in all places
no father figures
can't support, gone
moms fiend for crack
the silent killer
hard to take, reality hurts
the youngest
nothing lives within him
unloved, felt like a colorless weed
wants to develop
a beautiful rose
society wont let
its a cruel world
only the streets
resist the temptations.
Death laid outside his doorstep
waiting to grab the innocent beneath 
Gang life sleeps in his thoughts
trying to fight the opposition
a deadly current war.
Getting older
need to make ends meat  
but how, never given a chance
selling drugs only option 
need to feed his children
and in his mind
nobody cares
people just stare.
Treated as the fungus of earth
and all this money
soldiers dying, the devils agreement
army of weeds, never stop regrowing
power making more poverty
not spent on the poor
only used for wars
its sad.
A war on drugs
to fight them off
but they made them
dirty tricks, crooked 
and deceived
and still we don't change this
mankind has the say
not the rich.
Children screaming, not heard
tears not felt
like a raindrop with no splat
it always keeps raining
in his eyes.
People so caught up in the power
like a wolf fighting for its food
wraps around the minds 
changing ambition to greed
Just share 
then i think things would be fair
for all the bad acts
its countless.
Going through his mind 
all the times he cried
number of life's he lost
early deceased
in the penitentiary
trapped left to die
a fly under a glass.
Certain peoples cause
an act with no redemption 
soon to burn in hell
tried to deceive us
saying they were against us
causing pains and misery.
A secret war
an epidemic
propaganda in its finest form 
defying the innocent
minds controlled 
eyes turned, no notice
no justice.
It goes on and keeps on growing.


Details | Rhyme | |

Murder in the Skies

It was on this day
December the 21st, 1988
Pan Am Flight 103
Would learn of it's fate
 
Blown out of the sky
For all the world to see
Two hundred and fifty nine people
Rained down on me
 
My country Scotland
Lockerbie town
The falling of life
In deathly down
 
This 747
Model 121
Laid-en with fuel
The horror's begun
 
Argentinian, Belgium
Bolivia too
Canada, France
Sat beside you
 
Germany, Hungary
India as well
Hey, Herr 
The flights going well
 
Ireland, Israel
Italy flew
To go to the States
All feeling brand new
 
Jamaica, Japan
Philippines seated
Family toil
Families depleted
 
South Africa, Spain
Sweden in flight
JFK
Will not be tonight
 
Switzerland, Trinidad and Tobago
The United Kingdom, United States
All of the above
On this December date
 
We also remember
Eleven on the ground
Who obliterated to nothing
Not hearing a sound
 
The town of Lockerbie
Will never be the same
Yet one of the gang goes free
Because the poor guys in pain
 
Where's the compassion
Of the 270 lost
Their memory now tarnished
To the Scottish Governments cost
 
We set him free
To his home he goes
Treated like a hero
All compassion has froze
 
My thoughts and my tears
Are for the truly lost ones
Who will never enjoy
The return to their hometown


In dedication to the 270 who lost their lives on December 21st 1988.



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss.php




 


Details | Lyric | |

And the toil of the gods was great part1

AND THE TOIL OF THE GODS WAS GREAT part1
{I close my eyes and see you there, looking at me. I watch myself watch you. As I look at us 
in mind I wonder to myself if I’m seeing myself watching you then who am I.}
Ten thousand years the time that’s past and during the years all our knowledge was lost
Stolen and hidden often misused, twisted distorted or simply fake.
Now in the end at this precipice we start to grasp the weight of the cost
For too long now we have been blinded to what is real and what’s at stake
Our cosmos a chaotic symphony blanketed in an ocean of time
An entire race of beings without eyes to see and the minds of children
Left here clueless alone stumbling clumsily in the dark waiting for a sign
So much disconnection has transpired since we freed ourselves from Eden
Much too obvious are planet is not like us, who or what we are
A circus of gloom bent on destruction to ignorant and riddled with fear
Out in space there where many thriving worlds all rotating around its motherly star
We have been exiled here we deserve the freedom no longer should we toil here
Our failure to see life for what it is, its unique and a space-time miracle
Any life, anywhere, in the vastness of time a single blade of grass is precious and rare
As we consume and devour our forsaken garden for material that is tangible
A young and dieing world full of slaves and orphaned souls, a heavy cross to bear


Details | Rhyme | |

Ireland's Journalist Jewel

The dedication of this journalist gem
Whose writing, brought down
Drug dealing men
 
Eire's Sunday Tribune
And Sunday's Business Post
Newspapers of note, for in them she wrote
 
But it was the criminal world
And her writings so splendent
That craved her to write for the Sunday Independent
 
This brave reporter put her life on the line
To reveal to her country
Their drug filled slime
 
To avoid libel
Pseudonyms she chose
To protect the paper, from legal blows
 
Drug dealers uncovered
Showing their ill gotten gains
Irrespective of lives and families pains
 
Threats turned to visits, firing shots at her home
To deter her uncovering
In her investigative roam
 
Three months later she was shot in the leg
But the dedication of her
Thousands of newspapers were read
 
Near Newlands Cross
On the outskirts of Dublin
On a motorbike, two men with a gun
 
At a traffic light junction
With a Magnum .357
Ireland's Journalist Jewel, was taken to heaven
The name of this gem
Veronica Guerin
 
 
" In memory of a brave woman, wife and mother who took on the 
                      criminal underworld in Dublin, Eire "
 


Details | I do not know? | |

BOSOM BUDDIES--cont.

Billy never could remember,
At least that's what he said,
Just what it was that set him off-- 
That made him pull the pistol,
And shoot his lifelong buddy, dead.
                                              
Billy cried just like a baby,
As we let Tom's body down.
He even helped to fill the grave
With that rich, black soil of Kansas.
Then the marshal took him back to town.
                                      
 The trial was fair and speedy;
There wasn't much to say.
The jury found Bill guilty,
And the judge, with cold expression,
Set forth his hanging day.
                                                  
We laid young Bill to rest that day,
In a grave beside his friend.
Side by side they'd lived their lives--
Now side by side, beneath the sod,
Somehow seemed a fitting end.


Details | Free verse | |

SEPTEMBER 1922

September 1922

A woman is standing in front of a ship.
Into her bloody hands she holds her daughter and her son.
Their faces have lost the youth, terror has formed creases round their eyes.
Eyes lost.Behind them flames are spreading like dragons' tangues
leaving ashes on the wind on the waves of the sea,
on the hands of those who died.Soldiers running barefooted
passing the crossline a path they did not choose.
Heroes who carried dust and fired blood
and fired pain.The two little children are looking at their house.
What is left now is flaming wood fading lights dying away.
On the garden there is still the girl's doll with her cloth hands
her eyes filled with gloom as if she still waits for an answer.
The woman's hands are trembling.This is the last ship.
Screams, cries, pushes people in the water,
people on the ground trying to find a small bend to fit their carved souls.
Guns are firing a soldier gets killed in front of the boys legs.
Waves get rough, cover the port cover all eyes with salt
uncover the truth of not forgetting.A hand is pulling the woman
and the children on the ship.A last move , a passing to unknown 
with a coin on her mouth to pay the price of her transfer.
Smyrna is burning like a star is falling on the ground.
Million lights in the sky light up a drama of lost souls.
Broken terrors of a life never to be restored passing to the other side 
with hands empty eyes closed.

To those who lost their country in September 1922.


Details | Free verse | |

Black Day Report

We were there before pacing history placed in memory 
Black Tuesday 1929 my grand father committed suicide 
Black Monday 1987 my father diagnosed Alzheimer’s 
Black day in 2008 in October every day is a hope to survive


Details | Free verse | |

A MURDERER KILLED

The fortitude of a mighty people
has witnessed the awaited moment
of a murderer killed in his mansion;
was justice done...was revenge
and vengeance appeased to bring rejoice 
to the thousands who suffered for years?


This brings back that terrifying morning
of civilians dying from the explosion
of two American Airlines planes flown
with excessive speed into the Twin Towers!
The young terrorists thought of the slaughter
as a reward or an act of demoniac revenge? 
They vainly died for a non-existent glory,
believing they they would be called martyrs!


No their god wouldn't have allowed them in his heaven,
if their only intention would have been to shed blood... 
spreading death and havoc in New York City,
a beautiful city which still dazzles me and I love immensely;
didn't they know that the American infallible spirit
is that eagle whose courage and pride are invincible?


Shouldn't I revel in the death of this heartless man?
I would have wished to see him being tortured by the same folks 
who have lost their dear ones....then he would have asked for their forgiveness!
You must think I am very cruel to get even for his killings,
but who guides the quick hand of the man whose heart is full of hatred?
Envy, dislike, wickedness, intolerance of freedom and love!  


The Bible teaches to love one another regardless of race and religion,
but did this murderer love his own people and not live by the sword?
No, he did not...he incited his followers to commit murder
and bring everyone to his knees as Hitler wanted to do! 
Should these two murderers' names ever be remembered? 
Then again, you will say vengeance is God's not ours...
but didn't God command the Israelite to fight their enemies
and wipe them off the Earth with His blessing? War is necessary
when a nation is threatened by outsiders who make evil plans! 
Don't be afraid to ask me if the death of a long-sought murderer makes me rejoice!


Details | Etheree | |

Blessed Golden Life

Green 
Hulk rise
From Ocean's
Deepest depth bring
The Big Apple hope
Like an ancient Phoenix
Brought life to which died by flames
As Father Time _ Poseidon watch
To see if this resurrection starts 
A whole new era__ blessed golden life


Details | Ottava rima | |

WAR SEEN THROUGH A YOUNGSTER'S EYES

Born in that historical and eventful year
when changes were sweeping this country,
peace songs were heard in the scary, tumultuous air...
not realizing the dear cost for the quest of liberty
when soldiers would have gone to a foreign land so far,
to defend what others thought was sheer folly!
And their blood was shed in jungles and on dusty roads,
never feeling selfish pride by carrying the heaviest loads.


And from those sad and tragic memories,
my lyrics were written and sung to myself
with the hope of revealing them with teary eyes...
remembering what took for them to face pain without relief
and whenever letters were delayed in the mail mothers
began to fear the worst, if not a horrible death...
many went to churches and synagogues to ask God for mercy,
and yes He heard their pleas, but war had no clemency.


Many of those soldiers were given Purple Hearts
for their remarkable courage to have confronted danger without surrendering to the enemy,
others were forgotten in wheelchairs without legs and arms,
and they wept with no one offering comfort, warmth and sympathy...
but on those heart so proud of their Motherland they wore American flags,
unable to forget their commitment when they were asked to fight for their beloved country.
O brave soldiers, if no medals or honors were given you...let me reward you for your fright:
by erasing all the atrocity of bloody scenes that still are troubling your longest, coldest night. 
    


Details | I do not know? | |

Till the end of time

I forgot when it stopped being about me, but these people living in misery.
I'm a man to myself and this is everyone's victory.
Id give this breathe, for your breathe to be understood even if its misunderstood.
Can you see that under this bronx fog and are u feeling relived and good?

Its nothing, compared to the 3rd thought in this movie.
Whats money or everyday,
when I'm sad my sister is living that way?

Ill be praised by taking these thoughts a way.
Ill feel something more than peace. Its nothing that's there to stay.
Neither will you, since i wont be here to explain.I need more of you and not the old blue.

Ill give my breathe for you to never feel hate again, but love till its no longer a breathe but a man or women. Just smile at me because i Aint mad at cha.


Details | Free verse | |

Moments

History, today’s memories
Highlights, of a former life
Deteriorate
Into an oblivion

Nothing sees forever
The heart’s joy severed
From loss
Which brings forth exhaustion

The burden
Of thriving in ignorance
Disbelieving
That all must come to conclusion

The moment is so strong
It builds,
it binds
Only to be released


Details | Cinquain | |

Fighter (Insurgent Man)

                                                            Fighter 

                                                      Insurgent man 

                                                   Detonator in hand 

                                  Stone eyes watch the troops approaching 

                                                            Killer 

                                        Awaits the optimum moment 

                                          Shouts "Death to Infidels" 

                                                Soldiers survive 

                                                         Coward


Details | Rhyme | |

Prose Not

Time for change
Cant look back
Must move forward
Keep on track
Search for Happiness
In every step
Behind each corner
Silently wept
Skeletons hide
Turning to ash
Memories no more
Drowned in the past
Life renewed
Death forgets
Hindered actions
Untimely regret
True to one
Bearing all
Listen intently
Waiting the call


Details | Rhyme | |

A PICTURE OF HINDRIX PRACTICING ON STAGE

Here's a picture of Hindrix practicing on stage;
how tender is the revealing image...
as he strokes the guitar's strings,
exaggerating the pitches of his melodies! 


Rock was Hindrix's joy...he loved
to play it while crowds were dancing;
he laughed between breaks, knowing 
that it'd have been globally shared!


Details | I do not know? | |

Kindness

Kindness
	Sister of Love suffocation in are harts of stone
A fish tossed from the sea to rot alone on the beach
Don’t you see it; panicking on shore?
NO.
No I don’t suppose you see much past the vale of hate
So consumed of War this sea swells and rages
Tossing emotions, like loves sister to the shores of death
The key to killing the human race

War Spreads
	With War comes great sacrifice
Yet they sacrifices all the wrong things
The last strands of our humanity
Leaving us to quarrel like beast

Shared Bread
	Their all starving; bickering and killing for food
The War has cleaned them out; filled them with only hate
Child sits alone, eating bread
He is not too young to know anything other than war
A hungry stomach is next to him
He does not fight, but tares off a piece and shares

I think kindness is a dyeing emotion; it’s the last strand of our humanity
 Without it we just have war. 


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Babies of Beslan

Babies of Beslan............



The darkest day in history, 
Brought tears to my eyes. 
Many Russians murdered, 
In a mass of horrid cries. 

Hundreds of innocent people, 
Seen fleeing through the streets. 
Bodies thrown onto the verge, 
In a sea of blood-stained sheets. 

So many kept within a school, 
Being held against their will. 
Suicide bombers with booby traps, 
That care not who they kill. 

An act by Chechen rebels, 
Seeking freedom for their kin. 
With scenes of utter carnage, 
From those terrorists within. 

Semi-naked children, 
Seen running through the street. 
The Chechen rebels in the school, 
Shooting at their feet. 

Bombs and bullets filled the air, 
As the smoke engulfed the skies. 
People running from the school, 
With terror stricken eyes. 

Such barbaric bloody actions, 
Brought death and undue pain. 
The heart of the Beslan community, 
Won't see their like again. 

May the Lord our God watch over you, 
May he guide you by his light. 
May he hold you in his arms again, 
And keep you safe tonight........... 


In memory of the children and teachers of the Beslan school massacre.


Details | ABC | |

Heroes Next Door

 "There are some different heroes.
They do not exist in the books of history
and very few people speak about them.
There are some heroes that they fight with death every day.
They know very well the value of life, living, death.
There are some heroes that they get the medal of honor of life.
They are the neighbors of the next country, the next city, the next house...
The heroes next door."

Copyright Constantinos Grigoriadis © All rights reserved


Details | I do not know? | |

Battle Lines

Battle lines are drawn with no word uttered to act,
just a couple of simple emotions pain and loss fuel  this fact.
Bloodshed on the people we thought we could trust,
but now we know this is not true, as we lay our kin in the earth’s crust.

Vengeance is the fuel that fans the emotions of loss into hate,
for now it is not them but us that will decide their fate.
Call to arms the ones that have laid your brother to rest,
and in our embrace of steel find out who is the best.

When blood stains the ground and the hate sets fire to this land,
lets see past the smoke to who will finally stand.
In heated conflict our dance of steel and flesh will warship Aries the god of war,
and we will tear one another apart until we are no more.

Through the years our generation will hate the others without cause or reason,
For as the crimson moon passes it start another killing season.
Hate will boil and bodies will come under the knife,
and we shall take liberties on each other’s lands and wife.

All this pain will usher in a mindt Earth is a living hell,
and we will become prisoners within our own hated cell.
So before you step over line and fuel what you know is to pass,
lets buried our love ones together in the same mass.

After that, talk to me and so this could never happen while we our alive,
for if we don’t, in the future it could be us that will not survive.


Details | Rhyme | |

Broken Promise

As i waved you goodbye the day that i left

A loving embrace and the tears that were wept

To the poppyfields of france we answered the call

So many young lives lost and its here that i fall

My mind wanders back to when i last saw you

My promise to you that this we would get through

The crossing of my heart to our young son and daughter

That daddy would be back home come hell or high water

Remember me.......

Forgive me my loved ones for a promise spoken

Im sorry i wont be coming home i lie here bleeding and broken

Forgive me.........

To the left and the right of me my comrades lie still

But never to see my family again though is the bitterest pill

I see in my minds eye the life i am leaving

I see the pain of my loved ones there crying there grieving

But be still my love for you have no more tears to weep

My pain will soon be over then eternal sleep

So think of me warmly and this price i have paid

And when your time comes my love do not be afraid

For i shall be waiting here to take you by the hand

To kiss you embrace you and lead you to gods golden land

Together again in eternity.......Forever


Details | Senryu | |

war

the wind doesn't know
it carries bloody secrets
whispered by bullets


Details | I do not know? | |

Halloween Night

Halloween Night 8/25/12

Night is coming fast,
I really want this night to last,
Halloween...Halloween,

Ghost, ghouls, muppets, angels,
Little witches practicing their spells,
Halloween...Halloween,

Graveyards appear off roads,
Cobwebs string along lumpy toads,
Halloween, Halloween,

Fog comes from no where,
Frankenstein and Dracula want your blood,
What, are you scared?
It's Halloween, the dead emerge, runnnnnnnn

Amy Winehouse and Jack Daniels come hand in hand,
The show with Ray Charles with Zombie Winehouse in high demand,
Audience drinks mugs of tropical blood,
Werewolf from Paris flies in to make life undone,
Dario Argento takes notes for cool effects,
He sits away from the demons, of all, he knows them best.

For those stuck at home,
Pass out candy to a few drones,
Tinkerbell blesses you with glitter,
Mary Poppins has to mark this moment on twitter,
Jason would rather just cut your throat,
So be nice, give him the basket, try not to choke,
The Crazy 88s are Halloween neighborhood watch,
Looks like Andre the Giant just kicked one in the crotch,

It's midnight now, the carriage now a pumpkin,
Prince is mad, no kiss tonight, skins a lump again,
Concert was a success,
Candy is gone, no more stress,
Scared to sleep now, the best comes during rest....


Details | Quatrain | |

When Marbles Fall

          When Marbles Fall

Happy are the children on the wall of time
Playing marbles by the castle keep
Soldiers watch them secure that they won’t climb
But become bored and fall to sleep

The children are not children at all
But spies that cry for freedom
They slay the soldiers in a modest brawl
The king is next to fall to lose his kingdom 

Fate takes the king with a confidant to towers top
Spies follow them to that end
It is there where all of this must stop
The king must die but first his friend

Marble in this upper room is splendid
King marvels for one last time his acquisitions
Too bad right here and now he must end it
To simply die without his royalties permission 


                   Created 7/12/14 for- Not Just Any Old Quatrain contest


Details | Free verse | |

Egyptian Burials

Earthenware,
Gently coated with 24 karats,
Lungs, innards, entrails, liver,
The heart left untouched,
Untainted,
Egyptian burials,
Wrapped in cheesecloth.  


Details | Free verse | |

Obstacle

We didn't start out this way
We didn't plan for this
We created this

Our ancestors didn't think about
Corporations
and
Cars

What were their dreams?
Were they as materialistic as ours?

Survival only has one road
But many potential avenues to travel

It all ends up the same
My friend

Death
That final unconquerable
Obstacle


Details | ABC | |

A lonely dream

Once upon a time there was a dream
And the dream found a lonely man
And the man started to dream
And he was happy
But the dream was too big to fit into man's life.

Once upon a time there was a dream that never finished.

Once upon a time there was a lonely dream
Without a dreamer.

Copyright Constantinos Grigoriadis © All rights reserved


Details | Narrative | |

My Generation

On a crisp blue morning
Like any other day
Abruptly evolving
Into a horrific display

Few words describe
This event of destruction
Automatically you blame
Political corruption

Who else are you to blame
But our elected chief?
In all actuality
Labeled in fictional belief

The cards are all
Now on the table
Justice must be brought
By any means able

Yet now you criticize
Our leader's standing declaration
Whatever happened
To this nation's protection?

Now watched by the world
On satalite television
Explosions and death
In high definition

Now shown to the world
This terror named war
And YOU now ask
"What are we fighting for?"

Freedom and independence
Our inalienable rights
For which often
We still must fight

Jealousy and resentment
Hidden behind religion based hate
Failed to be realized
Is this trajic date?

Enragement short lived,
By our nation as a whole
Crying and complaining
About our soldiers death tole

Fighting for us
They are defending our nation
Yet to be supported
By our ignorant MTV generation

All of your "children"
Signed up for their job
When needed they fight
Now they're purpose you rob

Hide in your burrows
For you should'nt be seen
Spineless is this generation
Lacking the integrity it needs


Details | Free verse | |

Virginia's Day of Sorrow

Over 30 dead and dozen's wounded.
On this dark and dreary day.
Many gun shot's broke the silence.
Stealing life and dreams away.

Why's the question.  No one knows.
Meeting the wrath of God.
The shooter chose a cowardely exit.
A path to HELL he trod.

The lives he took shall stand before him.
And they may ask him why.
Our live's on earth, why did you shorten?
But here in heaven we shall never die..


Details | Free verse | |

The Politics of Passion (Einsengruppen)

"Oh, cut it out!!' he cried
As they shot him
Grinning
Smiling in their power
"But I am one of you!" cried he
As they bayonetted him
"Have mercy!" she begged
While she was gased
"Someday you'll pay!" they whimpered
Forlorn and forgotten martrs
Dying in masses of groans
Early graves awaiting
Yet warm bodies
Rotting flesh on last week's quota
Quivering in anticipated vengence

Reach out, deadman
Grasp those distorted in sickness
Who beg so much louder than their victims
Every rotting heart beating louder
to the pace of their awaited screams
Every trembling bone reaching above

Dead on schedule
Efficient killers
Reluctant in responsibility
For the millions
Who could not understand
your reasons for exterminating them
The world and the heavens
Decry your deeds
You the inhuman.


Details | Free verse | |

God Save The Minute Men

The squelching heat has of no effect
on the air-conditioned Minute Men
as they survey the desert land.
Keeping ever vigilant 
against the alien brown skins
that endlessly cross their borders. 
These pressed khaki pant militias
devoutly scour the arid passageways
equipped with bottled water,
binoculars, and cell phones.
Guarding the roads
to the ancient canyons of the Navajo 
and the Peabody Mining Company.
Or through the Mexican Missions 
that predate California.
Territory good Anglo American's 
recently inherited
from the parents of rape and murder.
God bless America
and God save the Minute Men.



Dean Walker


Details | ABC | |

Fire

A fire in my heart
Blazes brightly- for the entire world to see
Caressing the wind
Dancing on the wood
Effortlessly glowing
Feverishly hot


Details | Rhyme | |

The Following of the Pipes

On this cold winter night
A horror unfurls
As they leave their trenches
Under the Bagpipes skirl

It's Christmas Eve
In World War One
Over the top they leave
The killing has begun

Knee deep in mud
Barbed wire and bodies
The piper laments
Their bravery embodied

To march into battle
With their weapon of pipes
Whilst bullets and bombs
Leave the theatre in strife

Onward they march
Turning men into hero's
The battle of the Somme
Last centuries ground zero
 
What makes such a man
To enter a war
His weapon of music
That they follow him for

Amongst the men that fall
Others pick up their guns
When the piper falls
Their is no one

On this cold Christmas Day
The horrors have been unfurled
As one looks over the trenches
To a different world

But the very next day
In the distance you will hear
The sound of the Scottish Bagpipes
Leaving their enemy in fear



        In memory to all who fell at Christmas time, and especially to the pipers
who used music as their weapon, we will remember them, as all will be remembered




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-5.php




Details | Narrative | |

Imagine

If all the things I have right now were taken away and I had nothing left I would fantasize about nature and how beautiful it is. I would imagine that I was swinging on an old tire swing in front of a river. In the river were little ducks and I would go feed them. In my life right now I don’t think of nature that way. I think if my freedom was taken away I wouldn’t take it for granted the way I do and I would know how much it actually means to me. I would also imagine my family getting together for my family reunion. We would usually have them in September. My aunt would make her fancy white cake topped with chocolate drizzle. My grandma always made her jello cake; I still don’t know exactly how she makes it. The others would bring KFC, at least three boxes full of chicken and fries. All the kids would sit together and play games and laugh as we threw food at one another. We would have a game where the kids lined up from age 1 to age 13 and you would get to pick a prize appropriate for your age. I would always get stuck with bath soap and tooth brushes.I take a lot of ordinary things for granted and I think a lot of people do but they won’t admit it. Sometimes I even take life and my freedom for granted. I think that if maybe we wouldn’t take things for granted like the trees or our freedom that maybe our lives would be a lot better and things wouldn’t happen the way they do. I have lived long enough to know that it won’t happen, nothing happens the way you want it to. Just a few months ago I lost my grandma and I couldn’t do anything to help her. I took all of the things she did for granted and now that she’s gone I miss her. She used to make this tuna casserole, it was just amazing but I never told her just how much she meant to me. I think if I would have told her that more then I wouldn’t feel so guilty or depressed that she is gone. I never told her what I needed to. If people could use the words of John Lennon “Imagine Peace” and actually think about it then maybe the world wouldn’t have to end because there wouldn’t be any enemies, murders, drugs, none of the bad things would have happened. If we could have just accepted everyone around us for who they are and known that one day we all have to die, we could have stepped back from it all and said I had a good life and I don’t regret any of it. I think it’s no good to step back from something and tell yourself that you could have done something to prevent it.


Details | Rhyme | |

9/11, 2001 " Page 2 of 2 "

Intelligence first, Retribution next
Clinical response the worlds text
Which free country is next in line
To be hit by this cowardly crime.
 
New York Cities patriots, suffer further pain
As Fire Officers and Police are slain
They indeed are part of this attack
So many of them never came back
Honourable dads, cousins and wife's
Mourn their lost ones, who lost their lives.
 
The World will remember
This September deathly sound
When iconic giants crashed to the ground
Hero's in the air, and on Manhattan Earth
Proved to us all, whats humans are worth.

In respect to the decent people who perished on that September day.


Details | Free verse | |

Hate, Death, and Destruction vs. Creativity

Never would I have believed,
Such things could be true,
That people would conceive such evil,
In their unGodly desire to hurt you...

Your crime?: existence
You have no right-
Just ask a holocaust survivor
of their Nazi plight...

Ask the dead in lower Manhattan,
Slain for a version of God,
In Arabic, not Hebrew or Latin
Or innocent blacks hanging from a tree
The Klu Klux Klan's reaped crop, for all to see...

I sometimes wonder if I want..
to be part of this world...
And just when I think I'm sure,
That this is not where I want to be,
Some sweet, innocent soul comes along,
to much befuddle me,...

I've lately found a treasure trove,
of just such wonderful people,
Who's very existence stopped me
from "flying the coop"...
'Cause these are my wonderful
poet-friends,
From good old PoetrySoup.


Details | Senryu | |

Finale

Finale
Streams of tears falling;
His crepuscular brawn years,
Embracing his end.


Details | Rhyme | |

Lamb of God

From the heights of heaven you sent him forth
through the womb of woman he found his course
with your own power you gird his hips
with the truth of the kingdom on his lips
For this purpose was he created
his life for ours was his traded

He would open our eyes so that we see
bestow the gift of living for eternity
He percieved mans deepest inner parts
hidden in the well of their hearts
Touch with kindness our inmost being
return to us tender hearts of feeling

For his sacrifice he is the Most Beloved
angels did minister and our sins he covered
simplicity the path he would live
his heart to the masses did he give
The depth of his Love he demonstrated
for his judgement the priests him hated

He cast out devils and healed the blind
comdemned by council because he shined
The mulitudes with truth did feed
into Gods Love they would be freed
The council of Priests moved to crucify
clothed in darkness to prefect did lie

By a faithless disciple was he sold
for thirty silver as was fortold
in suicide did disciple take
for selling his Lord to the torture stake
The shepherd surrendered his soul for the sheep
to awaken minds and hearts from deaths sleep

In exhortation to follow his example
speak the truth and lies to trample
to take upon ourselves his yoke
and teach the kingdom about which he spoke
That the God of Love we should embrace
til the time we will see his face

sources the gospels and epistles

COPYRIGHT © 2010 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Choka | |

Moon Effects

Before thru after
Deaths by three always follow
Crazy antics from the sick
These terribly true
Proven by natural ways
One act of full moons displays.


Full moons way depletes.
Taking human energy,
Whacking hormonal balance,
Both female and male,
Both differently but same
Each one resides in the game.


Full moon affects plants.
Without it, would not have chance.
To sprout, live another day,
Mother Nature’s plan,
Gods full natural design.
Beautiful cycles complete.

Date Written
10-13-2011

written for
Sponsor Russell Sivey 
Contest Name What Happens During A Full Moon? 

written by
Cecil Hickman


Details | Verse | |

Butterfly

Bullet grey, the listless sky,
Wandering on with little thought
To the silent butterfly
Alighting where the world has fought

To the slight, unblinking eye
How meaningless the world and ways
Of the men who fall and die
For the ogres' power plays

So easy it is to fly away
And leave behind the ghosts of men
Perhaps return another day
When no shadow remains of the fallen

A gilted wing, a touch of air,
So gently kissed by bitter breeze
To leave behind what little care
For callous quiet of broken pleas

As memory fades and decades pass,
No-one else will come to lie
Upon the field of broken grass
But for one thoughtless butterfly.


Details | Ballad | |

Narcissus

A snow white flower shines in the soft light of a silent meadow. The words that you speak I shall forever echo. A lost love in the dark of the night. They all look your way, but are you blind? Can you not see the beauty of me? I echo your words, I echo your call; can you not hear the silent voice of me at all? I cannot whisper your name, my voice is gone. Silent I shall ever stay, until you speak again. My laughter shall sneak from my lips, until the last word has been spoken, Silent shall I stay again. Silver snowflakes fall in the glory of the dawn. My words are forever caught up hanging silently in my throat, strangling, dangling horridly on my cold lips. A mirrored reflection stares coldly back at you. The water paints a beautiful picture, golden and shining in the crystal spectrum. Will you fall to the hopeless masterpiece inside? Don't give into the lies that haunt your mind, can't you see that you're beautiful again? Beautiful until the end. You see me standing, afraid to think; so you speak. Can I echo your name? Can't you see that I'm afraid to breathe tonight? I'll always recall your words. With you, I shall never be alone. I won't let you go, though your desire is to be gone. In my heart you will forever live on. Farewell you bid unto the world. Farewell I echo to you. I choke in the invisible tears. The reality kills me as I drink in the truth of my deepest fears. Why Narcissus? Why my true love? Why you? Silver snowflakes fall in the glory of the dawn. My words are forever caught up hanging silently in my throat, strangling, dangling horridly on my cold lips. A mirrored reflection stares coldly back at you . The water paints a beautiful picture, golden and shining in the crystal spectrum. Will you fall to the hopeless masterpiece inside? Don't give into the lies that haunt your mind, can't you see that you're beautiful again? Beautiful until the end. I found a flower near the enchanted pool. You placed it there for me, didn't you? Forever the echoes cry out in my mind. Farewell Narcissus, until we meet again. Farewell, I'll see you whenever my time here comes to an end. Farewell, we shall be together again.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Towers of NYC The Day They Fell

Two standing structures standing up so high touching  tha clear blue sky.
Huge white walls on either side, 
Hundreds of windows reflecting the sky.
 Thousands of workers sit at their desks; unaware  of the fear that is growing near.
its 8:45 people still come to arive; but soon they'll be fighting to survive.
The north tower is struck by a plane and  the 1st tower is turned into a flame.
 
Smoke and ash flow throughout the buliding as people below are screaming.
Videos recording, photos been taken.
News choppers are flying while inside the tower people are dying.
Police try to control the streets as every ones heart beats.
 
People believe its just a plane crash but at 9:03 that rumour is smashed.
The second tower is hit as ash covers people in the street like a pit. 
firefighters suit up to enter the blaze but the smoke is so thick there put in a daze.
Panic and chaos is all around; as bodies jump from windows to fall a long way down .
 
fire is burning all around inside as news crews flim the outside .
People are burning and choking and know that time is getting short .
They ring their families to tell them they'll be fine; but in their hearts they know there out of time .
  
The towers come down with a tundering sound as a great symbol of the U.S is now nothing more than a mess.
Bodies are burnt and burried; sadness is in everyones face as New York City is left a dusty angry place . 
Great towers they used to be; but now these towers of NYC  are just ones memory.


Details | ABC | |

Do you know my abc's?

And it was there. Looking me in the eye, “I shall born you.” I was overcome with 
sadness.

Before I was born I died. I was one with everything. I was more alive then, then I 
am now.

Children seem so simple. Children seem so free. Why is life so hard. Maybe the 
simple one is me.

Deep cuts in my heart. A boy that I love with all of me. I might’ve been invisible 
because he always walked by.

Enough of this! I hate it all. I gathered myself and left my heart behind.

Falling down the tubes. Drifting though life. No friends, no family. I. Can’t. Breath.

Gaining momentum. Losing myself.

Hot under my skin. It’s getting tighter. Wanting to rip through it.

I, am, not, real.

Just between us. Just between us two. I used to be everything.

Killing gives life. I want to give my life to you.

Love exists only as water. My heart is dry.

Maybe I’m your dream. Maybe you are mine. Maybe neither of us carry weight. 
Maybe both of us have died.

No, you never gave me a drop.

O I cry. I cry for you. I cry I cry I cry I cry for you.

Plenty of times I wonder how long my sentence is.

Quiere un vaso de dulce sangre. Dibuja un corazon dentro de mi cuerpo. Con 
esto corazon agujero, bebe mi vida. 

Run away from what you’ve heard. Leave and write your own truths. They say He. 
He does not exist. It tells me so.

Say what’s on my mind? Ultimate indulgences; eating meat and having sex. A 
man is meat. Chocolate is sex. A Chocolate man is the only heaven that will ever 
exist. Next to Him.

Telling you about my life is wasting the time I have to live it. If you’re meant for me 
you’ll just know.

Un knowledged people need to stop giving the gift of life and start giving the gift 
of life.

Very little patience do I have for those with no words. I’ll look for the person who 
stole them from you.

Will you be the one that I can hold  for now? Do you have a sweet heart, do you 
have soft soul?. Will you be the the love  that my ego drinks?

Xoxo hugs and kisses. Hugs and kisses. Let me touch your skin, help me miss 
your soul.

You’re looking inside me. Like it used to.

Zero words writing in my head. Where do my thoughts go? They go on this page. 
This page of my life.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Who Needs You Now

You have fought for your country
You have heard the calls of death
And felt the loss of blood
And now, no one hears or cares
About the tears you cry
You fought a fools war
Inspired by heroic deeds
Majestic words of honor and fame
From people who never knew your name
Many were those who fled
And endured behind their protest signs
But you, you fought the war
Lost your limbs and gained insight into reality
It was you who came back less than human
And now you stand alone at night
Lost and forgotten men
Tell me, tell me who needs you now
Where are the people
Who gave you hell
Where are the people
Who cried to bring you home
Who marched for your life
While you marched to your death
Where are the people
Who loved you when it was the thing to do
And fought for your cause
While you wondered what it was
As you watched your buddies fade away
Heroes and medals
Tell me, what does it all mean
Now that you stand alone at night
Lost and forgotten men
And tell me, tell me, who needs you now
Now that our memory fades
Of those who served and the reasons why
All we seem to do
Is stand aside and watch them die
And tell me Brothers
Who needs you now?


Details | Free verse | |

Haiku with Media

Few Words, Few pictures, News
Thousand narrations to same story
Every day a new story
…
Journalism, an art to write
Whether truth is perceived or false
None care, just write it.
…
Coverage of war or peace
Hidden remains the agenda of brokers
Cameraman with presenter on TV
…
What is shown, repeat telecast?
Same images, and same footage again
As seen on cable TV 
…
Magazine, periodicals, articles and letters
People read and contribute searching truth
Some are victims, others spectators
…
Morphed I did see, pictures
Some well crafted, some under bad hands
Every agency has a news
…
Reports, articles, statistics and surveys 
Core contents of the daily news papers 
2 page news, rest advertisements.
…
New flash, breaking news and updates
Presidential speeches, parliament debates and reality shows
Twenty four seven TV channeled 
…
Melodies, drums and orchestra played
Dramas, shows, politricks and business
Echoing; let the shows begin.
…
FT, BBC, CNN, News corp. Siasat
Created, supplied, edited, published, blogged, or uploaded  
Chinese whisper crawl in their veins.
…

28.29/04/10


Details | Rhyme | |

The Day the Crows Came

There lies in Salem
An abandoned church
It's outer walls
Blackened to black
 
The story behind this
Goes back many years
In the witches trials
17th century fears
 
Two courts
Convicted twenty nine people
Nineteen were hanged
From high, like a steeple
 
On the day they were hanged
As witches they were tamed
The skies above became black
Its the day the crows came
 
The church became shadowed
Under their mass in the sky
Lured by the nineteen
Who were hung out to dry
 
What did they do
To be become so feared
In these days of the past
When anybody could be smeared
 
Every year
Is exactly the same
The skies become black
The day the crows came
 


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-7.php


Details | Elegy | |

Poor Anna

For fleeting fame, a chance to shine
Her need for love and acceptance overwhelming.
Casting out all values and decorum
Her thoughts focused on only the prize she seeks

For fortune and celebrity outweigh the moral dilemma
Her sense of propriety and self-respect clouded
As she chases wealth and jewels and raiment’s of gold
This gilded beauty seeks the flash of celebrity with her gleaming smile

Unaware or oblivious to the emptiness of her chosen existence
The love so superficial…the acceptance a façade
Yet a growing void within, unfilled and gnawing at her soul,
She fails to understand, consumed with superficial desires…so many detractors

Instead, reaching still for her star, the mores of society cast aside
Ambition soon replaced with desperation as the pillars fall one by one
Surrounding herself with the leaches that prey upon the weak
Believing their lies, slipping further into the abyss of a lost soul

Clinging to the fleeting relief of drugs and salacious acts
Until the naïve young woman who once existed slips beyond salvation
Ambition and determination replaced with a need for instant gratification
Needing something to ease the agonizing pain of what she has created

But a loss so profound pushes her beyond coping with the anguish
Not even a true and genuine new love would be enough to heal 
For her wounds are deep and many, and not one loves enough to see
Her end is in sight; as such tragedies have befallen the iconic fatales before her

Fleeting and elusive the adoration she craves…And no one hears; no one sees  
While alone in a strange city and hotel room, her flame flickers and tragically dies
As her legend quickly becomes greater than her life had ever been
Will she revel in her place in history?  Or is she simply gone; destroyed by us all.


Details | Rhyme | |

What's In Style

How can I sleep, with this warfare?
All left to weep, in this bomb scare.
All hell, is breaking loose.
Angels fell, so ready the noose.
In this country, we're all to fail.
So much animosity, right on our tail.
Should we try anarchy, that'll do the trick.
It's you and me, we'll make 'em sick.
Kick in their heads, rebel to no control.
The snake skin sheds, so they'll pay the toll.
We'll take on the Fed's, we'll sell our soul.
They'll die in their beds, hearts black as coal.
What's in style, should we be communists?
We'll stand on trial, and read off the list.
They'll be in denial, as we chain their wrists.
We tried it with peace, but that didn't work.
Gunfire will never cease, for Death'll always lurk.


Details | Rhyme | |

Pierce The Gloom

Pierce The Gloom


Pierce the gloom under purple sails
cold the rain that forever falls
False is the prophet that ever tells
great honor rang true in these halls

Hide ye behind golden false banners
dark spirits dwelling in your band
Deceit lies silkened in false manners
evil the Crown that rules your land

Purple King steals your life's bread
as hope eludes your soul's plight
Blows descend upon your bowed head
you, that forever declines to fight

Royal colors your minds enthrall
as evil lies in your shallow beds
Dark spirits birth wicked flowers
where evil reigns in crying hours

R. LINDLEY
11/18/1976


Details | Quatrain | |

Unleash The Lions

The days of ancient Rome, there were battles
Staged for the spectators; fought to the death,
Gladiators entered an arena
Fight until they had taken their last breath

The Gladiators could choose their weapons
Like a shield and sword, flails, maces, or spears
They were criminals, slaves, and prisoners
Most of them wouldn’t live more than a year 

Two or more would enter the arena
Fight until only one was left alive
A “thumbs down” and they unleash the lions
And a “thumbs up” he gets a chance to thrive


Details | Choka | |

Vincent Van Gogh

Vincent Van Gogh
     By Dane Smith-Johnsen

Passion tormenting.
Acceptance?  Unholy flaw.
Vibrant colors capturing,
All alone he saw.
Beyond starry skies at night,
Honored by his vibrant brush.
Cypress glory, bright,
Embedded images hushed.
Country houses, peasants, cows,
Smitten.  His soul crushed.
Chestnut trees.  And coleus.
Perfected by sorrows eyes.
Lilac bushes.  Irises.
Still Van Gogh's soul cries.
Orchards' blossoms, olive trees,
Fields.  Bottles.  Hats.  Books.  And Seas.
Still-lives.  Harvests. Groves.
Then, to the asylum led.
Protected from hurtful flows.
Eyes absorbing strife-
Gripping anticipations.
Frantic energetic strokes,
Garden.  Creations.
Pondering at his easel.
Paint, brushes and canvas hoped.
Life moaned in his face.
Endless striving.  His mind seized. 
Competition wore him down.
Peer recognitions.
Pained.  Rejected. Feeling naught.
Oh, “Sunflowers in a Vase”,
By death fame was bought.


"Self-Portrait In Front Of The Easel"
To view, use the link below.
http://globalwholesaleart.com/selfportrait-front-easel-p-6458.html

This poem was written for Abe Lopez's Van Gogh contest


Details | Couplet | |

Baal

Baal
Written by Catherine Reinke

Ancient sources tell us of one old God
forbidden from all others,
Yahweh declared he, from the sun,

named  him Baal. His ceremony enticement
many could not resist,
believe one God only’ certain  may  this one.

Each morning clockwork He would arise
feeding nourishment  they and plants alive.

Not only life give’th  He in  sun’s magnificent glory
 how few could understand
why Yahweh to war went with Baal.

Fought in heavens sky for power supreme complete
resistance forces fought immense
until victory found when Yahweh   produced his demon fail.

Destruction of our earth, when  Yahweh   flood waters  sent.
Save select few , Noah and they
in his arch rescue set  omnipotent God sail.

Declared… drown the followers of the sun!
Yet ,rise each morning Baal still won.

Today  from the watery grave they  have risen 
those who worship all that Baal The  Sun has given.

Plead  we now, no  more destruct  us for such love 
condemned to  wait return of the arch  homeless dove .

Mend your rivalry Yahweh  with Baal, we  pray
that   in service both, in gratitude and love we may.


Details | Rhyme | |

The pain

Can you feel the pain.
That still remains.
I'm really plauged.
Like doctors revealing aids.
neal and wait.
while the government steels your fate.
look at your freedom get peeled away.
i feel for the children that havent had a meal n days.
kill the rage.
that builds the hate.
Like when your spiritual shield inflates; the ego.
now we know.
the founding fathers gave the natives mezels. 
and its hard for a rich kid to reach close.
to the poor kid who can't concieve hope.
our integrity becomes the unwieved rope.
holding together the east coast...
while you eat toast.
your needs grow.
making us more evil.
like people controled by the eagle.
I'm leathal like upheavals that beat you.
I read through the bleak truth.
Feed to the oblique youth...


Details | Free verse | |

Gladiator

Gladiator

Chosen from slaves
Trained to fight
He was placed in an arena
A sword and shield his only defense
He fought and killed
Spilling the blood of a hundred onto the sand
His final match he fought bravely
Defeated the emperor spared his life
Never fighting again he was bound
Tied between two pillars of stone
Naked, he showed the scars of a thousand beatings
He learned so long ago how to live in pain
Whips with steel tipped leather ripped his skin
A morning ritual for the rich
Sand was ground into open wounds
Flies ate their fill from his flesh
He always stood mute
He never showed the pain or any feelings
Alas he tied a horrific death
Beaten so badly that knew one knew who he was
He was born a slave
He fought as a warrior
He became a hero
He ended up as a martyr
Dying at the hand of a tyrant
He never once talked
He never told anyone
He died with the secrets of the arena
Once again he was a hero
Even in death
He was a gladiator


Details | Free verse | |

The Tithe, and The wills, And the lists

Guilty party Alcohol companies
and those responsible for that product being targeted 
to the youth
put my name
in your will

I don't care if you make it a metaphor for a prayer
in the amounts that you leave me
and the message you leave me
with the way you care to swallow your footsteps
you've left behind

Cigarette companies
and those who advertise for them
put my name in your will
find it for a way
make it an amends
to the past present and future
I will find a way with your amounts given to me
to swallow you down
to choke you out
from beyond the grave

Porn companies
porn stars
all those who think 
I don't have a black file
and i'm just some ghetto wizard
and maybe a gullible god
put my name in your will 
pay off your debt
how you have tarnished
tainted mankind's image

All those building weapons of mass destruction
welcome to Gabrielles dance
joining those greedy people going to hell
And this is also for those with the power to send people to war
wether you crawled for me or not
put my name in your will
find a message for me to carry out
with your money
to choke you out
to tear you out of reality
with your money 
you will leave me a better way

This is the list
This is my tithe, pay it well
don't think i don't have a list
and be ready to buy yourself a few more cycles under the stars
Light in the darkness
may hunt you down
poisoning the well
you don't see the righteous wolf in sheep's clothing
nailing martyrs to the past
i have the list
you pay the tithe
and we'll see your historical wills!

Let's not leave out
those making drug abuse seem good
put my name 
in your will
and a metaphor for a prayer
to tear your shadow into holes
all you thugs and druglords
who think theyve escaped the lists
thats my biggest trick
put my name in your will
pay my tithe
swallow this omen
to set the future right
put my name in your will

I might claim some of your hard earned dreams
you've stolen from the innocent
of radiostations and entertainment
I might claim a method to the madness
of counterintelligence
I just might one day be the name used
when someone is stalking you

You whisper my name
you say my name
put my name in your will
make your amends in your death
you threw everything
and everybody away in your life
one way or another
someone gets the last laugh

wether your soul gets revenge
or you question mine
You are a name a number
a disguise configured 
found and discovered on satelite
and I'm ready to pull the rug under your feet
I'm about to pull the wool off the wolf


Details | Free verse | |

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and of epitaphs

Oh I have done it now, I have failed you yet
Upon whose bones and shoulders I've trampled 
With the rightful heir's death
Chaining myself to a throne of thorns
Unequally yoked with my kinsmen
Who drag the crown over these hallowed grounds
The dead tell no lies for we do it for them
So come, let us talk of graves and epitaphs
And how with vile worms I lie
My merits lived and sealed
Such grave errors do accent my frailties
Let me ease your sorrows with my ghostly hymns
We'll leave this country to the just vagabonds
May they rob this grave of my woes and my debt




------
For the Shakespeare contest. From Richard II


Details | I do not know? | |

X

Meaning beating rhythmic patterns the letter X,
   an initial in my name
 It's a letter most people fear
  but once you know it dear
 Approaching it with-in it's text,
  it will be a whole new game
 
Two sister cities
  once stood still
  one city in Africa 
it took a pill
 The sister city
 took it's name
  Africa's President took one look
 They declared war on a great big crook
 
Then China once again retook the name
 By paging out it's domain
 It carried out it's plain
  
 By the way Xi men is the name 
I am a X


Details | Rhyme | |

Littlest Amends

To kill, the shrill of a thrill,
To take any life is truly wrong.
Thou shall not hurt even a fly.
They are guardians of the sky.
They begin crawling strong.
Disgustingly devouring meal,
Each organism has a plan.
Serving nature’s scheme,
Designing a destiny,
Between now and infinity
When it becomes extreme,
Bringing about another span,
As always existence ends.
All things must perish.
To bring out renewal,
There must be removal.
Stretching out to cherish,
You will make amends.


Details | Couplet | |

Writers Rock

Babies,
Babies
Like to get rabies.
That's the way babies rock.

Writers,
Writers
Like nice highlighters.
That's the way Writers rock.


Details | Free verse | |

Conquered

Smoldering charred stake
Stinking thick running fire-tar
Boiling destroying bubbling skin
Melting seeping waxed dust bones
Screeching mother weeping water
Crying sister sizzling cooked humans

Hot atomic sun
Miscellaneous dirt winged earth
Scratching dry sight killing tears
Waves attacking white tender flesh
Ultraviolet death armies
Blood rock clotted toes and heals
Long tracks of my flowing life

Crosses soldiers’ crucifix
Along the road to Rome

Fear’s consequence dying submission
Rage rejuvenating stumbling effort
Weakness is meek relenting eyes
Cold shivering opium dreaming
Cream-colored mold man lying
In line metal chain god
Unifying binding slave’s master’s will

Ending columns devious spaces
Empty lacking nails or straining muscles
Clear heaven not billow black smog
Praying Christ’s affection mercy
Angel melody nothing choking creeping
Devil serpents handling lifting
Pouring lighting leaving repeating

Refrain


Details | Blank verse | |

Life Is The Ink

Life is the ink
I write with.
Words are the actions
I maketh and take.
Paper is the earthly conneciton
Of where I am.
This pen is my destiny,
For only I hold the key.
These lines are boundaries
Of memories and times.
This book is my story,
Telling all there has been.
Writing is as living
As to remaining is as dying.
History is vast,
Yet each life creates its cast.
Life is the ink
We write with.
Words are the weapons
For fight and defence.
These books are our story
And forever we write freely.
Life is the ink
And is bound to run dry.
Our words remain
Even after we die.


Details | Rhyme | |

Jesus Could Have Called 10,000 Angels


Jesus Could Have Called 10,000 Angels…

On a cross… Jesus suffered for you and me.
He could have called 10,000 
angels to set him free.

Nailed to this cross, he went
 through so much pain.
He knew his purpose and the 
reason why he came.

Being there for all of mankind 
was his choice.
Weakened and alone… 
 One could hear his voice;

“Father forgive them.” 
 “They don’t know what they’re doing!”
As the crowd listened… 
 Many began believing.

“My God why have you forsaken me?” 
 With one last breath…
And then...  And very quickly… 
 There was death!

For all of the pain and suffering
 he was to endure
Was so that a plan of salvation
 is now secure.

This same Jesus, who was to rise again.
Is forever to be our atonement for sin!

Seated at the right hand
 of God the father... In heaven above..
He awaits there for us all with
 an abundance of  love!

Won’t you accept his gift 
of life that he’s giving?
And allow him to forever change
 the way you’re living!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Narrative | |

Ekphrasis-DESCENT FROM THE CROSS

Jesus' dead body is taken down from the cross slowly,
Nicodemus' hands support it while His mother Mary,
not contorted by grief, is consoled by a glorious vision,
which will be revealed in the majestic morning of resurrection;
Mary Magdalene, not a virgin or chaste woman...once a part of the sinful world,
shares in that undying hope when Christ will be awaken by the trumpets sound.


Carved in precious marble by Michelangelo's masterful hands and ingenuity,
this awesome depiction is more intense than his own undisputed religiosity,
Christ still bleeds for Mankind's salvation, but death will not prevail;  three long
days He will lay down in the darkest and coldest tomb, and towards dawn
He will be resurrected by the voice of the Father whom He invoked before He died...
yes, sorrow is deeply expressed by these three figures, but their tears will be exiled!  
  

And Michelangelo abandoned the unfinished sculpture due to a marble's imperfection,
not realizing that he had captured the excruciating expression of the sacrificial Lamb,
and before these wailing faces, he must have knelt and fervently prayed,
humbly staring at Christ's lifeless head drooping and believing in Man's redemption;
and Nicodemus' face has indeed Michelangelo's resemblance, exuding much revelation... 
come closer, unbeliever and stare at this magnificent sculpture with profound admiration. 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Quatrain | |

O INHUMAN AND FOOLISH RACE!

Could we ignore those heroes and heroines,
who fought for freedom and gave us many choices?
Every country has them and their valor we should revere!
I'd like to be one of them...but I hesitate to dare!


More than five thousands of years people have lived on our planet,
and powerful civilizations rose to subdue the ones with a weaker sword...
even today when knowledge is supreme, the mighty ones continue to do so!
O inhuman and foolish race...have you lost all consciousness and grace?


How can the human heart be enslaved by mighteness,
if precious freedom is a right given by God without prejudice? 
All, I repeat all peoples are entitled to liberty...O heroes and heroines rise!
I'm not inciting anyone to rebellion, but protest they should with their voice!


O inhuman and foolish race, how much longer can you brag and not be erased?  
Rome crumbled with its marble idols...others followed and lost what they highly praised!
Now justice is veiled by a feigned appearance: haters of faith and lovers of money abound,
bringing more destruction and danger to anyone alive...will they return to God?  


Details | I do not know? | |

Euphemism

Euphemisms collateral damage 
children died and you smiled
at the flashes of light
bombs make at night
casualties counted  
casualties filed
television is making us numb
its sound we march to like a drum




Details | Senryu | |

Ottawa Treaty

Infestation of Anti-personnel land mines Rwanda declared free On 2 December 2009, Rwanda became the first country to be declared free of landmines. http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-3.php


Details | Narrative | |

The Art of Living Part Two

Monday, February 27th   
The bell rings and all the people walk out to get on their buses or to get to their cars. I 
walk with some of my friends as we talk about what happened the day before. I finally 
reach my bus, and find the number of my bus seat. I sit down and pull out my iPod, and 
I listen to “Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica. I am thinking about the weekend when I 
went to go see granny Helen on Saturday, but she wasn’t there, she was at a wrestling 
match. It is now Monday and I thought about her for some odd reason. After an hour we 
finally reached my house; I have to walk a mile to get to my back yard. I calmly walk up 
towards the house and I open the door. I sat my book bag down on the floor, that’s 
when I heard a sound coming from my mom’s room. I quietly opened the door and I see 
that she has been crying, my brother was sitting on her bed. She looks at me when I 
asked her what was wrong, if it was her boyfriend? Or if something happened to my 
sister? She responds “Granny Helen is in very bad condition, they don’t think she’s going 
to make it.”I asked “what happened?” She puts on her jacket and grabs the keys.
She started the car and said “Granny was sitting at the table, she told Gino (her 
boyfriend) that she couldn’t breathe, and he laid her on the floor then called 911. By the 
time they got there it was too late, she already turned blue, her eyes were bloodshot 
and wide open, when the paramedics came they used a breathing tube on her, they 
kept her heart pumping even though she was gone. You could hear the water in her 
lungs.” During that time my mom called several people and told them the news. I 
remember when I used to go up to the blue house where granny lived, me and my 
cousins would be up there and we would play, watch scary movies and eat grannies 
tuna casserole. I was four when I started calling Helen, Granny Helen.  
I sat in the car thinking about all the years I had with granny Helen. My mother and 
brother were still crying, there was no way a tissue could help. I couldn’t find a reason 
to cry yet, because I knew that there could be a chance she would come back. 
We finally arrive at the hospital. We see Jason, Megan’s husband and we ask him where 
they have Helen; he ignored us and kept on walking. I got upset, knowing that it was 
serious and maybe she was already gone. We asked the lady where Helen was, which 
room she was in.


Details | Free verse | |

Ghost Soldier Part 1

He was there, He told me so!
On that cloudy morning a few years ago,
When a shaft of light from the Montana sky
Fell on his grave and caught my eye.
The raindrops that fell as if tears from the sky
Were quickly absorbed by the earth where he lie.
And he told me, He did, in his very own words
Of those days on the trail and his last day on earth.

"Dust, dust--- two, three or is it four days of this damned cussed dust. It seemed 
an eternity since we left the Rosebud. Why the urgency it was beyond me, but 
when it came to the Indian Custer seemed to have a special mission known only 
to himself.
Push, push, they just kept on pushing us. The horses were caked and white with 
the infernal dust. Even my neckerchief failed to keep the dust from my lungs. I 
was fighting for breath when a halt was called. As I stepped down a lizard 
skittered away from the rock where he had been sunning himself. I looked at 
Tom as he loosened the girth on his saddle trying to give his horse a breather. It 
was laboring for air and blood was in evidence in the foam at the corner of his 
mouth. It had been in a battle the month before and was issued to Tom as a 
replacement for his lame animal. This poor animal wasn’t going to make it much 
farther.
I looked at my horse and decided I’d better check him over while I had a chance. 
He’d been there for me last month as we raced away from a group of renegades 
trying to lift our scalps. When it comes down to life and death all we have are 
each other. I gave him some grain and a much needed but sparse drink. Our 
supplies were following a safe distance behind us, so all we had were saddle 
rations. The spring grass was just beginning to work it’s way thru the earth 
towards the warming rays of the sun. The nights still held the winter chill and yet 
the days seemed insufferably hot. Such a contrast this land presented. You 
either froze to death or you were burned and blistered as if in the fires of hell.
I brushed the damned sand from Poker and checked each hoof for damage. It 
was hard to tell where we’d be next, traveling ankle deep in sand or slipping and 
sliding our way over the loose rocky ground. Satisfied my mount was taken care 
of I removed my neckerchief and dipped it into the few drops of precious water 
Poker couldn’t get. Even it was hot to the touch. The only relief was the cooling 
breeze as it immediately absorbed the moisture from my skin.


Details | Rhyme | |

Hiroshima.Nagasaki 2

( Lyrics by Queen )
Teo torriatte konomama iko
Aisuruhito yo
Shizukana yoi nir> Hikario tomoshi
Itoshiki oshieo idaki

Let us cling together as the years go by
Oh my love, my love
In the quiet of the night
Let our candle always burn
Let us never lose the lessons we have learned

Are our lessons learnt, time will tell
Berlin Wall, barriers fell
Is it a start, or a start to come
Is this race always on the run
We need to look, and look around
No more we hear that whisltling sound
Its seems to be a more silent kill
Typical Human, in its typical will


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php


Details | Rhyme | |

9/11, 2001 " Page 1 of 2 "

9/11, 2001
Tuesday morning when it all began
Four Jet Airliners 
Hi-jacked at will
To fly their mission
To kill, blood spill
 
Target chosen
New York City
No questions asked
No pity
 
Internal flight
Laid-en with fuel
Turned off course
To the Hi-jackers rule
Islamist, al-Qaeda is the name they claim
What honest faith
Would want this fame
To take these lives on this September day
It's not what religion should portray
 
Nineteen jackers, whats on their minds
To do their deed on their own mankind
No scriptures, books of the olden day
Would let any brother, be slain this way
What battle would be, without seeing your killers eyes
This nineteen, the world despise
 
Our modern world on camera caught
Jet Airliners flying the next so fraught
North Tower hit by flight 11
Then the South by flight 175
All aboard the planes, would not survive
Many compatriots would also die.
To this day i wonder why?
 
CNN and TV crew's 
Capture, man's cruelty to man
It makes you spew
The cowards that commandeered these planes
Are not religious, plainly insane
 
To be on the ground and look above
Two Manhattan giants
New Yorkers grew to love
Taken down by evil beings
They can't believe what they are seeing

Two explosions in just under an hour
Office life is about to shower
Paper and life fall to the ground
Silenced grief makes no sound
To New York City, that never sleeps
In a state of mourning that will presently weep
 
We hear on the news, Washington's been hit
The Pentagon, yea that's it
One of the four, also has it's say
On this dark September day

In Pennsylvania
The fourth still in flight
Passengers on board
Try with all their might
Overcome the scum 
Who hi-jacked their plane
The next hour would never be the same
 
Somerset County is where she fell
These brave civilians,
As calls will tell
To try and claim the plane that's theirs
So suppress those infidel curs>


Details | Blank verse | |

Alone with vampires

A spring of blood.
This is the path to your heart.
I never believed in miracles
Until the day you
show me the moon

I saw the clouds
like clowns in the sky
I rape the common sense
and I try to understand
why the only way I now
to come back home
is your black hair 
which is leading me

I fight with demons to gain your soul
You never let me go inside
I know that you believe in God
an Jesus Christ.
I know that I am so jealous
that I hate your faith

I am living with vampires
At the end of the night
Because only here you can be mine

I love to kill angels
to show you my way
to gain your soul
and give you the good night kiss

In vampires land
I am your master
You know that and you kill me will
prayers

Alone in vampires land

I will never know if I am a legend
or real
You leave me here

Alone with vampires

I loose my blood
But I am happy

Tomorow I will be 
the never ending story
of you and me


Details | Rhyme | |

The Last of the Brothers

During the Second World War
A decision was made
If brothers were to be lost
The last would be saved

The story below
Is the truth in a way
For the search of a soldier
Before he becomes, theatre pray

The US Government declared
A mission is in plan
Sending a squad of Rangers
To save this solitary man

Capt. John H Miller
With his handful of men
Their dedication to search
For the last of them

For his brothers were lost
In the theatre of war
At Omaha and Utah 
In the Pacific, so far

Into Europe they head
From cities through towns
Looking for Ryan
Before he's gunned down

He is eventually found
With Paratroopers, holding onto a key bridge
As a Panzer group advances
Will this be their last ridge

Bullets zipped, pinging 
Ricocheting
The flesh of the living
In screaming sing

Their mission was, to
Save Private Ryan
But Capt. John H Miller
With others, died trying



                        My entry into Frank Herrera's contest
" Describe your favorite performance by Actor or Actress in a movie "


         http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-7.php


Tom Hanks is my favourite actor, and his role as Capt, John H Miller to me
was one of his best, his hunger to complete his mission showed in his acting.


The film was based on a true story, about Fritz Niland who lost two brothers
in Normandy, and a brother M.I.A. in Burma. He was later found alive.

But the military rule about sole surviving son's being allowed out of combat is true. 
It was enacted after the five Sullivan brothers were killed in 1942 when the U.S.S. 
Juneau was sunk in the Pacific. The rule of the surviving son is common to many 
armies, the American, the Canadian, the British and the Israeli.


Details | Senryu | |

Nowhere To Run To

Nowhere to Run to
Footsteps closing in;
Qualms about my bright future,
Up against a wall.


Details | Elegy | |

Tragedy Strikes In New York

Something tragic happened in New York today
Many lives were lost
This unexpected act of terrorism
Came with a very high cost
Many hearts are now filled
With anger, pain and sorrow
So many of us wondering
Will this happen again tomorrow?
Fear and uncertainty consuming us all
We do not understand why the towers had to fall
As we all watched in horror
The Trade Centers crumbled to the ground
We looked to our faith and kept clinging to hope
That many survivors would somehow be found
The hour of this tragic day will be
Forever remembered through history
The question of "Why" will always linger
The reason will remain a mystery
Who would want to commit such a cruel and intentional act?
In our search for those responsible
America shall stand united, that's a fact
Though we are temporarily weakened
By the devastation with sorrow and grief
Someday justice will prevail and bring us a sense of relief
To our many dear friends and loved ones
We will miss your gentle heart and smiling face
But we shall find comfort in knowing
You've gone to a better place
Our minds still question why
So many precious lives were taken from us
Please know that in our hearts, cherished memories
Will keep you forever near

In memory of all those who lost their lives to the tragic, terrorist act on September 11, 2001


Copyright © 2001   Shari E Davis


Details | Haiku | |

Pyramid

gate to rising sun
corridor to afterlife
chamber of deceased


Details | Ballad | |

FOR THOSE I DIDN'T KNOW

They slowly walk to Ground Zero
to grieve for someone they lost or know,
I came to this site for all the fallen;
great sadness mixed with supreme joy,
because they've reached the ultimate glory...
in that place where no one is alone!

My poem is for those I didn't know,
for someone who needed help, but wasn't there;
I would have given up the very breath of this life
to have saved,at least, one soul...
not to make another bell toll!
This loud and deep voice
would have called out to them with infinite grace,
to pull their trapped bodies out of the flames;
and they would have answered me with a whisper...
to lead them, from the mortal darkness, into the living light!

Seasons change colors,
and every year one seems
different from the other;
I stay the same forever...
remembering that nobody 
is safe anyplace, or anywhere!
Be alert and vigilant as they couldn't be...
our enemies are full of treachery,
and trepidation is a sign of sure weakness;
they intimitate us with another menace!  

My poem is for those I didn't know,
and being that stranger I feel even more;
I would have offered my kind arms,
and let their wish,to stay alive,
fall in this caring heart flowing with kindness:
I would have taken their place and gladly died!


Details | Ekphrasis (Ecphrasis) | |

Sweet Jesus

four
figures
cradling
Jesus in their
arms




Tribute To Jesus Christ
{Amen}


Also Entry For
Raul Moreno's
The Deposition Contest
GL All


Details | Ballad | |

Last Stand

Night turns to day
Day turns to night
Past the past
But that’s all right
It has come once at last
Our final calling
Our final stand
We’ve came so far
With the stroke of a hand
With the thought of the mind
Finally shown
 Is the unappreciated sign
Of which one can leave
All the past behind
All that is true
All that is pure
Is now gone
Experts are now sure
The last hour is upon
Now what is to be done?
 Where shall we go?
Time surely will show
Yet what time is available?
What peace is left?
What is next?
Life is a never-ending test
Of our gift of will power
And choice making
Yet the wrong some
Are always taking
Decisions of war
Decisions of peace
Mean nothing
Till the killings cease
Only then shall our race
Find true peace


Details | Free verse | |

WHEN MEN VANQUISH MEN

Men and men are torn apart like withered roses cut from its gut,
Twain against each other to destroy and defend for yesterday's memory and 
tommorrow's dream,
Sanguine fluids on sodden hands suits the vehemence of their miasmatic souls,
Evil never ceasing to rend asunder until rare peace prevails perpetually,
Only then is the white flag raised high...

The ungarroted hearts of their unslayed passion write to fill blank pages,
The illusion of unspoken reflections tied with a yearning voice of freedom,
Unfolds a dream the tides of good will bring for the world beyond the laws of man,
While women bequest everlasting oaths and ode to the indestructible love of their
children,
Only then we are at peace just as grass fields flow with the wind...

The question of existence becomes certain on the facade of subterfuge and 
revenues of the hopeless,
Contumacious kings must configure and confide the paths of their people to 
protect and preserve,
Upon our eyes all exempt from the darkness of night, the day decides laud shall 
lead us on,
The night comes to give us rest and time to appreciate of what is now and what 
has been,
Only then to wake, rise, and see the morning sigh is the dream which has come
true...


Details | I do not know? | |

The Passing of a Footnote

THE PASSING OF A FOOTNOTE

without foresight
or future concern
we cast our stones
into the waters of uncertainty
the river holds us certainly

epic ignorance
existence in spite
maleficent macrocosm
the truth lets you know
it's ok to let go

ghosts of the past
a friend found at last
we succumb to fears
being lost in the years

the pages of time
we think we headline
the history book
selections children wrote
the passing of a footnote



is there lost consequence?
or does this all make sense?


Details | Rhyme | |

Upon Their Broken Shoulders

Through their unselfishness
They fight for our rights
Never giving up
Enduring the darkest of nights

As they continue to fight
We angrily protest
Yet still they fight on
Never asking for rest

They struggle to live on
While we safely sit here
They die to protect us
Giving us no reason to fear

They fight out of love
For us and our country
They ask for nothing back
Fighting for us to remain free

Never do we remember
As today turns into tomorrow
What they have provided us
Only thinking of our sorrow

These guardians are our heroes
They die in their ranks
Yet never do we give them
A well-deserved thanks

Always remember the men and women
Who are known as our soldiers
For giving us a foundation
Upon their broken shoulders


Details | Free verse | |

EXCEPTIONAL INDIVIDUALS

Exceptional individuals
are called by God
to lead lost souls to Him;
and the words they speak
are truthful and bold;
and they never lose heart...
when they are tossed by a storm:
their faith greater than doubts!

God speaks to them and they obey,
changing the course of human history;
and when chaos and confusion threaten their safety,
a promise is made into them:
to live by  compassion and integrity...
until wonders and miracles will amaze them!

Many have gone into sleep,
rejecting the message of salvation,
another chance for redemption...
to awaken their dead spirit;
and while they treaded the paths of endless fear...
those exceptional individuals could have ended their despair!

And, with perished thoughts ,
they wait in their grave to hear
the angels' trumpets announcing the hour...
with a hope never lost to eternity;
they will be raised to life by God's infinite mercy,
and be judged in the presence 
of those exceptional individuals
who were saved by Christ's blood at Calvary!


Details | Rhyme | |

FIGHTING FOR A GREAT CAUSE

I could never back out
when facing adversities;
I keep on fighting my battles,
until there no more to fight!


They think I do it for prestige,
to win the sympathies of others,
but it's a misleading thought that provokes...
see how I capture a fortress without a siege!


My courage indicates how I prevail  when nothing
seems insignificant or impossible;
everything has a concealed meaning,
or a scope behind it...and I dream of the unattainable!


Gladiators of ancient Rome
fought in the arena to gain freedom,
but only a few were fortunate enough 
to survive and cheat death!


I'm hoping that my fate wouldn't be too fierce,
admiring how those slaves stood against tyrrany...
and with strenght and effort, they gained their liberty;
today, fighters don't shed blood...they only shed tears! 


Details | Verse | |

A wagon of my time

Don’t cause the problems, give them a solution. 
The workers were hanging on electric boxes,
And diving in the heaps,
To search the words where files were burning,
And stretching off the mentality.

Nerves were tightening,
Muscles were pulled forward and backward,
Upward and downward,
A sketch was hanging in front,
How to keep straight backbone.

Legs were num, over the years,
Electric heat massage the cold over the bones,
And body was feeling tired,
Eyes were dumping in the lightening bulbs.
But a packet was pulling the time softly.

Smile was disappearing in the wrinkles,
But a rank was jumping on personal experience,
Time was always a question of figures,
Sums were added, subtracts or multiplied,
Zero seems always stronger than words.

After thirty five years service,
A happiness shakened me, 
The clapping were welcoming my respect,
And a proud was honoring my shoulders,
I were free to enjoy my lonely oldness,

My past was pulling me back,
My future was running a cause,
My present was walking with sticks,
Pills and injections were only my hope,
The white dresses were crossing my eyes,
My life was lying on a death stretcher,
The death was pulling a wagon of my time.


Details | Ballad | |

What's This All About?

Buildings crumble down much like castles made of sand.
The circle is unbroken, the brotherhood of man.
Flames burst out, they seem suspended in the sky.
They can’t stop the terror, no matter what they try.
Then comes a calm, like after a storm.
The people feel the sorrow, as they begin to mourn.
Although I wish that things, could be like before,
As the flames are extinguished, their beings are no more.
Step to the ledge, poised to make that jump.
Jolted from the path, it’s a pretty big bump.
A cloud of destruction shrouds the way back to the path.
I try to add up the numbers but can't do the math.
Smoke so thick, you can cut it with a knife.
It becomes much like a plague, as it takes another life.
The sun returns, but things don't look the same.
Sometimes I wonder, are we getting better at this game?
Darkness returns, with silence by it's side.
You're tossed and turned about, it’s a pretty rough ride.
You try to find your way but it gets lost in your head.
It's seeming to get harder, to just get out of bed.
So you stop and look around but you can see that you are lost.
The autumn leaves start falling, as they float down towards the frost.
Coldness starts to grow, you need only to feel warm.
Try to find shelter, to get out of the storm.
I can see the winter up ahead, trying to get out.
Then I'm left here thinking, what this all about? 


Details | I do not know? | |

"Someone Been Digging ME A Grave"

"Someone Been Digging ME A Grave" 

my land lord, her play games 
she play, nick knack ,on  brain 
with a  nick knack pad a whack 
give a tenet a deadly water drinking break
she play at putting me in my fresh dugged out grave

hook::so don't drink the water 
hook::and don't breath the air
hook::because  there's no one who will give a care 
hook::with a gallbladder in the brink
hook::don't you give a drink  !!! 

so this old fear, and this brain 
can't believe how mush this is in sane 
with a shower head, that can leave you as good as dead
this is something so bad it leave white power on your head   

hook::so don't drink the water 
hook::and don't breath the air
hook::because  there's no one who will give a care 
hook::with a gallbladder in the brink
hook::don't you give a drink  !!! 


no old dog, will sniff at me
he start pawing at his nose so very painfully
with a howl, and a pain fill yep 
Now You See This The End of ME!

hook::so don't drink the water 
hook::and don't breath the air
hook::because  there's no one who will give a care 
hook::with a gallbladder in the brink
hook::don't you give a drink  !!! 
!

AKA::lyricvixen


Details | Rhyme | |

Battles Eve

Battles eve
Before the siege we dance
Drink to those who have been lost
Victory is to come at any cost
Nothing will be left to chance
Sharpening my axe for war
Firelight warms these old bones
The sea wind howls and moans
New enemies on a new shore
The dead lay scattered around
Our ships waiting behind the moon
Glorious battle leaves us swoon
Odin our guide we are bound
Twilight has come my brothers
Into the wood silent we run
Axe and sword it has begun
While berserker rage smothers
Quick and bloody battle won
The slumbering city now stolen
Those who remain crestfallen
Odin’s victory in the rising sun
Drakavai2013


Details | Haiku | |

~Haiku #22~


two shoes lie mirrored
forgotten when spring cleaning -
the wake remembered

The use of 'lie' in line 1 is meant, a play on words to try and create a double image /
feeling depending on how it is read.

1. Two shoes laying side by side, a mirror reflection of each other
2. The shoes, just by their presence there imply that they are used, which as the reader
discovers later in the Haiku is in fact a lie.


Details | Haiku | |

Prey - Pray

Many men fallen, Carcass, the vultures calling Survival twisted Even in blizzards Spot the circling buzzards spy; Carrion cleaners Birds of prey, pray swoop Deceased unaware souls lost Carried on the winds. Tribute to Leon Stacey's " Casualties of War "


Details | I do not know? | |

Titantic Life

we're all just dancing on the deck of our own Titantic
 
some about to swim in the Pacific
 
others about to drown in the Atlantic
 
some staring up into the sky
 
thinking how tiny the world is
 
others thinking it's gigantic
 
some of us are running for our lives
 
some are saving our children and wives
 
some are rearranging the chairs
 
some are walking elegantly down the stairs
 
some are playing a beautiful tune
 
some are staring up at the beautiful moon
 
some are looking down below
 
some are climbing into lifeboats and beginning to row
 
some are worrying about what will be
 
some are grateful for what once was
 
some are praying
 
while others are playing
 
many are crying
 
as others are cheating and lying
 
a few are treasuring the beautiful view
 
staring at the beauty inside of me and you
 
ready for a new life and ready to start anew


Details | Free verse | |

What Did I Do To Deserve This { Poetry In Motion}

                                 front-page of Oklahoma news paper
                                          remembered those lost
                                             during the bombing









In Loving Memory Of
Those Lost  In
Oklahoma Bombing


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Jack

Filled with spite
He hides from the light
Ready to rip - Ready to tear
Merciless, without a care
Prowling the streets like a pro
He knows just where to go
To find his next victim
Wait for the dark lined eyes to dim
Shell of another thrown to the ditch
Never enough to scratch the itch
Burning inside his mind is a flame
No amount of death will tame
Cycle of death and pain
On his hands the permanent stain
Dripping red
He will not stop until he is dead
Filling the streets with blood and gore
Until he becomes naught but lore


Details | Rhyme | |

Street Fighting Years

In the cold Russian Winters
To deter the enemy so
These red starred fighters
Street fighting they would know
 
The bloodiest in modern history
Thousands fell to earth
Fighting for their freedom
On the country of their birth
 
Hand to hand engagements
A bayonet to the girth
Another fallen soldier
Fighting for their worth
 
Operation Barbarossa
Is the theatre to discuss
In the boundaries of success
To free the likes of us
 
The power of it's industry
German's desired to greed
Avenue to the Caucasus
Would fuel their war torn seed
 
In the midst of battle
So many mechanical germs
The Stuka, dive bomber German
The T-34 in volume swarmed
 
But the winner in this battle
Was the want to save their city
Mother nature intervened
And the Germans were shown no pity
 
For all their strategy and might
The winter took it's toll
With fighting on two fronts
Their armies no longer strolled
 
Supplies were short in demand
What were, struggled through
For mother nature we thank
She was on the side of the true
 
When history looks back
In view to the red star brigades
The Germans held ninety percent
But the street fighters would never fade



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php


Details | Epitaph | |

Laurel And Hardy {Epitaph}

                                      American duo great humorists by far
                                      A famous act of our cinema history
                                     Hal Roach's most lucrative comedy stars
                                     Revived on our T.V's in movies or mysteries






 In Loving Memory Of
     Laurel And Hardy





Thanks Again To 
Sir Joseph Spence




Epitaph is a commemorative poem inscribed on a tombstone or mortuary 
monument written in praise of a deceased person.  Generally, epitaphs are 
small poems with rhyming lines written in reflection of the deceased person’s 
life.  They are not always somber and some are very humorous and witty.


Details | Rhyme | |

Of Kings and Crowns

Curse this man’s ambition, 
Cut’em down, cut’em down. 
Let us cleanse with our incisions this delirium he’s found. 

Sorry Caesar, time to die, 
Seems your reach has breached the sky, 
And your head is far too large to wear the crown. 

Was it pride that took your life? 
Even Brutus lent his loyal knife. 
Or was it jealousy about the town? 

Middle march in Rome is sweet, 
But greener grasses breed deceit. 
And foes are hard to find when friends abound. 

Curse this man’s religion, 
Nail’em down, nail’em down. 
And the millions who have listened to his sermon on the mount. 

Sorry Jesus, but to reign 
As god on earth would be insane, 
So we offer you instead this thorny crown. 

Were you not the savior they had sought? 
Did life conflict with what you taught? 
Or was it politics that brought you down? 

You preached of peace in promised lands, 
Then perished at the people's hands. 
And to this day your message can’t be found. 

Curse this man’s intention, 
Shoot’em down, shoot’em down, 
He will pay for his dissension, and for spreading it around. 

Sorry Martin, but your dream 
Will disrupt our old regime. 
Only we can have the right to wear the crown. 

Was it just a man who killed the king? 
A troubled soul who did this thing? 
Or was it that our hate was so profound. 

That even in the world anew, 
We favor those who share our hue. 
And to our own beliefs we’re tightly bound.


Details | ABC | |

NEVER BE AFRAID TO BE PROUD of AMERICA


America, the abundant, the place I was born 
I'll cherish till the day I die.
Where the bones of past heroes lie buried in the ground 
Who loved her the same as I.

Her mountains are so tall they reach for the sky;
With prairies where the green grasses grow.
There's billions of trees where wild birds nest
With creatures that flourish below.

That blue gold called water with which we are blessed
As raindrops or crystallized snow;
Changes to rivers and fresh water lakes
While the winds of our seasons blow.

There's the haunt of a whistle from a lonely freight train 
Racing on ribbons of steel
With the harvest of farms and from the factories 
Balanced in a box on a wheel.

Some cities have buildings a hundred stories tall, 
Structures of concrete, glass and steel.
A statue in a harbor, a present from France, 
Describes how, inside, we feel.

That flag on the moon with red and white stripes
Proves America’s dreams come true.
A country of heroes who line up to protect
The past, the present and the few.

We’ll defeat terrorism as it should be fought
Never letting Satan’s horde chase us to our door.
Safeguarding our borders and system of life
As our forefathers sacrificed before.

Never be afraid to be proud of America
And march with the brave, faithful and just.
Refusing to submit to the will of our enemies
Standing firm to preserve what we trust.















Details | Narrative | |

ANYONE CAN CHANGE

Most of us are too quick to judge
not knowing anything about a person,
and distrust is the outcome of ignorance
capable of setting us apart  from civilization;
first gather the facts, not useless rage,
and the belief that anyone can change
draws ourselves to a truth so unknown...


Hear all the words they speak, use intuition;
do they convince you to continue listening,
or throw you off with idignation?
If that voice sounds too unconvincing,
and can't confirm the answers you're expecting,
come up with questions that are pungent:
transforming those ideas with a thought,
and always believe that anyone can change...


Empires have risen, giving the obsolute power
to fearless men who were made into legends;
some were deserving, but most were tyrants of unclemency,
and did shameful and cruel deeds:
torturing or killing anybody who used to dare;
are we learning something from History?


When Attila the Hun rampaged Italy,
Leo the Great...the courageous Pope,
persuaded the savage king 
not to sack the city of Rome; 
and he also believed anyone could change: 
that any heart, with all its brutality and rage,
could replace its rampant fury and grim
with human compassion and mercy...