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Death Places Poems | Death Poems About Places

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

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Details | I do not know? | |

Behind Bars!!!

The time that I've wasted is my biggest regret,
Spent in this place i will never forget,
Just sitting and thinking about the things that I've done,
the crying,the laughing, the hurt and the fun.
Now it's just me and my hard-driven guilt.
Behind a wall of empty ness I allowed to be built.
I'm trapped in my body, just wanting to run
back to my youth with it's laughter and fun.
But the chase is over and there's no place to hide.
Ever thing is gone, including my pride.
with reality suddenly right in my face
I'm scared, alone and stuck in this place.
Now memories of the past flash threw my head
and the pain is obvious by the tears that I shed.
i ask myself why and where I went wrong
I guess i was weak when i should have been strong.
Living for the drugs and the wings I had grown.
My feelings were lost, afraid to be show en.
as I look at my past it's easy to see
The fear that I had, Afraid to be me.
I'd pretended to be rugged, So fast and so cool.
when actually lost like a blind old fool.
I'm getting too old for this tiresome game
of acting real hard with no sense of shame.
It's time that i change and get on with my life,
fulfilling my dreams for a family and wife.
What my future will hold I don't really know,
but the years that I've wasted are starting to show.
I just live for the when I get a new start
and the dreams I still hold deep in my heart.
I hope I can make it, I at least have to try
Because I'm heading towards death, and I don't want to DIE!

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

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?

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 | Prose Poetry | |

Kilted Warrior

He stands proud and strong, this kilted warrior
head held high against the unending pain
of a heart born out of sadness
for the loss of those who came before him
and thoughts of those who would
continue on when he himself was no more.
Proud men one and all
vows made, till surrendered in death
to defend that which
was their birthright, the very land
upon which he now stood.
The call to battle though long since silenced
came from within his very heart and soul
blood of the ancient ones raged in his veins
his sword by his side...shield upon his back
he stood ready to charge into battle
to do what was expected of him since birth
to fight as those before him fought
without fear, but with a strength
only a battle hardened warrior
knew and understood.

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 | Ballad | |


To love your country,
you must commit yourself indefinetly;
there are no doubts, or fears
when it comes to defend it fervently..
do it for the sake of  your family,
or your countrymen who wish for peace!

They will send you to distant lands,
away from your loved ones...
to uphold freedom and its sanctity,
and you'll shine with bravery!

Anytime peace is threatened,
you'll retaliate and engage in combat,
true soldiers always fight with self-confidence,
never retreat in any circumstance!

There'll be days of fright , of darkness and despair,
and nights to shed tears on cold pillows;
no tender eyes to glance into or arms to embrace,
but  surrendering distorts your honor! 

As the mission comes to its end suddenly,
and you are one of the surviivors to declare victory,
although you'll also grieve for the fallen ones:
you'll wave your flag to the calmest skies!

To love your country,
you must avail yourself of dignity
and protect its borders vigilantly;
be aware of its tremendous cost:
risk your own life,or allow
the enemy to toast!  

Details | Rhyme | |


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 | |

City of Shadows

A lonesome boat in the harbor rocks insanity.
Big waves of the black sea roll across the white sands
that fade into darkness for eternity.
Far from the life giving drops of rain are predators
in the city of shadows.
Feelings from the last solem breezes blow.
As the evening sun fades slowly into the night,
the pavement glistens like cracked glass
from the earlier evening rain.
A lack of silence remains.
In the city of shadows,
screaming voices creep in the corner of your mind.
Visions of the garden where the flowers died.
The dark alley reveals the emptiness of peace within your soul,
and death reveals the cold, cold truth way beneath the black crumbled earth.
Slapped with a strike of lightning,
disrupting the fall of silence where secrets crawl to hide,
in the foxholes of one's mind.
In the city of shadows, bewildered minds tick with the time of the clock.
Breath by breath falls perfectly out of place,
and darkness opens a new gate.
Tunes of the violin slowly fade away.
A new awakening to blindness,
in the city of shadows.

Details | I do not know? | |

Today Is Terrible----

The cracked spine of
the book I dropped
at the call.
A chip in my
windshield left by a
pompous *?#@! in a
red sports car as I
drive to the
Rain expectorating
from an ashen sky as
the dirt is turned.
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
crack in grandma’s
spine from her fall
down the stairs.
The chip in her
amazingly smart mind
after eighteen years
as a teacher.
Tears running,
dripping from my
Mothers ashen face
as she cries “My
mama’s dead.”
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
cracked family
emotions left raw
and empty.
The chip in Grandpas
numb mind at the
gathering… “Where is
Irene she should be
Faces gone ashen
with dread, do we
leave him numb or
remind him that his
wife is dead?
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
empty silences,
missing the jokes
Grandma used to
Grandma’s laugh and
her endless smile
which always exposed
that tooth with the
chip in it.
Without her the
world has become
empty, bleak, and
Today is terrible.


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

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 | |


Immersed in the sound of the low rustling wind
Memories and places they haunt yet again
Passed by so quickly as each falling leaf
Drifting and flowing on an unyielding stream
A current to carry from birth right on through
Filling our moments with cares which ensue
A mind lost in remnants of lovers and friends
Babies and children and time long since spent
Familiar, intangible, just out of reach
Longing for ghosts that my heart doth beseech
Winter is looming and summer is past
A time for remembrance the years gone so fast
Beauty is captured in my last breath of life
The sparkling colors in the warm golden light
Do mimic the glory and wonder be told
In those bright days of autumn and a life to behold

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

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 | Rhyme | |

With Him goes a Rose

It was only a few days
On their barren soil
Through a doorway he went
So many lives now spoiled

An explosive device
Plastic in design
Could never be detected
Now a life resigns
The regimental medic
Rushes to his aid
To stem his internal bleeding
Through his eyes he fades

His lifeless soul lies lonely
As he is gently stretchered away
Where he will be flown back home
To where the angels play

In honoured ceremony
As he is carried to his carriage
On the tarmac awaits
His fiance, without marriage

In the chapel of rest
She stands in a tear laden pose
Her tribute to her lost one
With him goes a Rose

For tomorrow she will awake
A new day in her life
As she remembers her love
Who would have made her his wife

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

Details | Free verse | |

Gum in a N.Y Subway

Retired sweetness paints
a tiled mosaic of
unpredictable patterns.

Black, brown shapes
spatter the 
grey concrete of 
an underground kingdom.

The fresh ones burn
pink and seafoam 
green against
this steely blue 
and yellow lined world.

The stickiness clings
onto shining 
out of spectrum, 
before becoming
another dot
in dark masses.

Details | Ballad | |


I came here with flowers
held gently to my sobbing chest,
to bring them to my dearest;
I have departed from the living,
to come face to face with my ending...

I lay my flowers at this cold tombstone...
engraved with a name too sweet,
and yet so painful to call it out;
the heat in my throbbing veins
could warm it up with a loving wish before dawn;
but who can resurrect someone from death?

This morning is dazzled by an intense sun,
carnations, flags and tombstones
perfectly blend as the swaying pines 
offer their breeze and soothing shade towards noon;
why are the noisy larks hiding,
and melancholically sing?

I rushed here to release these tears
and let them roll from these eyes,
like raindrops falling on this very quiet place:
where tranquility is as eternal as Paradise...

I lay my flowers at this cold tombstone,
feeling a presence so known;
others before me have knelt and cried, 
not to forget whom they lost and dearly loved...

Details | Free verse | |

Home Is Where the Heart Is Stilled

Abandoned places,where
perhaps memories linger,
with wisps of wafting moments,
aware, somehow, even of  the now,
Though long forgotten by all others,
One wonders why, and surely how,
Such strong vibrations of the past,
Seem to time, to have taken a bow...

Gutted building, windows broken,
Creaking, leaking floor,
Last stepped on by the living,
So many, many years before...

Where lives were lived, and
deaths have come in their way,
To others, in a time gone by,
Who here saw their last sad day,
Tears were cried,hearts
were smashed,
Love withered, its flame 
reduced to ash...

Is this a mysterious black hole of time??
A singularity, of now and here...
Where time is not so limpid...
And death is always near,
And fear can swim in the unknown,
The fear of time's mysterious cloud...
As ticks, as tocks, somehow go forever by, 
so mysteriously, and seemingly, oh so loud...

What was the last calendar's  year hung?
The last phone call received,
And who had been the one rung??

Ghost House,
Ghost House,
Scary, time
abandoned place,
Secure in forgotten
And with time, 
you've lost the race.

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.






Details | Rhyme | |


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 | Couplet | |

Beachside Food and Drink Slinks

A is for algae, red, green, blue cells, soaking up sun, sliming teeth 
B is for bacterial mat, clumping underneath, earliest born, never asleep

C is for coral reef, the place we all find cover or the sand parrotfish chew and release
D is for diatom, all seeded calcium, all float free, all denizens barely seen

E is for eelgrass, nursery meadows of the anchovy, and other browsers of green 
F is for fan worm, filter feeder like a flower, 8000 species on which fish feed

G is for giant kelp, floating on bladders of air they’re forests of cold waters clean
H is for helmet, the royalty of snails who protect our feet, queen, emperor, king

I is for isopod, the chameleon crustacean, they color match what they eat
J is for jellyball, or cannonball jellyfish, not upside down or moon, avoid their heat

K is for keyhole limpet, favorite food of ochre stars, will erect its own wall
L is for laver, the sea lettuce of nori, it swirls red skirt as ocean falls

M is for mermaid’s purse, the sack of the skate whose yolk keeps them alive
N is for nerite, the prisoner striped snail of the rocky zone as numerous as a hive

O is for oyster drills, the snails that slurp oysters and use them to lay eggs
P is for pleurobranch, a sea slug answer for oranges, with one active leg

Q is for quahog, the bivalve seaman who can survive eating the mud
R is for rove beetle, the one waiting to snatch the unwary beach hopper for good

S is for saxitoxin, those red tides produced by mating that can paralyze humans
T is for tubular sponge, they squish, bore and encrust as space lends

U is for urchin, those spiny skinned balls, no eyes or noses but dig food in sand 
V is for Venus, Music Volutes dined or Vampire Squids skimming along land

W is for whelk, not the musically inclined, but the slow moving snail in a shell
X is for X and a half, the six rayed star, hungry for anything on the half shell

Y is for yucca, blooming on the beach, they bloom nice and tolerate the sand
Z is for Zostera marinara, the address of eel grass when they're feeling grand

All of this green life is what crunches, stinks, dries and slips underfoot
The rest that find the housing and dining compatible means someone’s on the look.

Details | Elegy | |

Where are you

You flourished and blurred
like a spark on wind

Gracefully and quickly like a frightened hind
in pursuit of light

You harvested through bushy meadows
taken by blight

In struggle with plight
had you lost your might

And gave out
although never you gave up.

Where are you?
For you must be still there.

For I still can feel you
somewhere in the air.

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 | Free verse | |

Conspiracy: Who Killed The Easter Bunny

A crowded table, all suspended in shock 
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock

Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable

They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied

Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Duchess Of Paradise

She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame  
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror

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 | Narrative | |

The Depths Of Hades

I have seen the depths of Hades!
And it is not a place of tranquility; 
Neither is it a place of rest, 
but a place of unending cursing, 
and the gnashing of teeth is everlasting.

The multitude was too great to count -
Souls served as fuel for the unquenchable fire.
Hot coals were the bed for this place,
and flames covered Hades as a blanket.

Before encountering this beast,
a very long fall takes place -
Into a vast and immeasurable darkness.
There is no point of return!

Guilt, pain, sorrow, 
and hate obscures the minds of the afflicted.
Their eyes are blinded by their unclean conscious,
and regret is all that is left.

My heart was shatter into pieces -
To see hell boundaries expanding so rapidly!
It’s mouth is wide open,
and in the top fangs - 
Were Inscribed two words: “ETERNAL - PUNISHMENT”

The scorching fire,
the burns, the sores, and wounds,
and the desire to die is a punishment too great to bare.
But the greatest punishment of all -

Details | Rhyme | |

4 - Messenger from the Dead

Alas there is no more confusion,
finally found my last conclusion.
Expect me as if Jesus will return,
from a ghost to a realm of concern.

Your dreams are portals like doors,
welcoming spirits into hasten wars.
Leaving the thoughts without trust,
keeping your fears in much disgust.

And though you sought no consequence,
deeds that confirm a wicked malevolence.
Awaiting in your nightmare of screams,
enjoy what is left amongst your dreams.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Rwanda's Why

I'm driving through such beauty, this lush rural countryside. I find it hard to believe that my 
career has taken me to here. Being where I am is so much different to the Highlands from where I reside from.

Thankfully my 4 x 4 takes the endless rutting roads with aplomb. Mind you, sometimes they remind me of back home, councils never repairing.

As I drive, visually I see scattered belongings. Has the wind carried them to there, as I stare, whilst driving, mm!

The long and winding road takes me to where I've come from. The Coffee Plantation that allured me here initially, empowers me to think back to it's early days. The wanting of the locals, hungered for work, steady monies, quaint prosperity from their already empty existence. 

The next day, I hear on the news, that Habyarimana and the Burundian President, Cyprien Ntaryamira were on a plane, shot down, all were lost.
Having met Juvénal Habyarimana before, it saddened me totally.

The next day on the local radio, I hear there's been disturbances. Like many places in Africa, it was the norm. Onward I went about readying for work. Off I go, before I reach the entrance, a crowd rushes towards me. Angry to say is an understatement, vociferous they, wielding anything they can lay their hands on. Branches, planks, irons, machete’s to name. I'm now needing to veer, to not hit workers that I recognise.

I stop a few miles from home, sweated, shaking, as to why?

To get to my Coffee Plantation, I have to travel through the local village, town, call it what you may. As I near, like yesterday, strayed clothes abound, but different, and so much more. This time they're reddened, stained, adorning ripped bodies.

Now frightened, I travel on foot, walking through blooded carnage, my stomach churning.

Children clutching their mothers, fathers and sons I assume holding hands. Young girls taken, forsaken, their life seeping into their lands from where they lived.

As I near the village, town, there's shouting, chanting, the stench of burning flesh. Upon view, machetes wield down on many, amidst cries I've unheard of. Limbs now release, torso's tired, fired, my eyes streaming tears for fears. 

In frightened stare, I'm spotted, sadly by my neighbour. He points at me, my heart surges, scared, disturbed by what I've seen. Instinct tells me, run, and I run, Lord do I run.

Upon reaching, fumbling I am for the keys, this image I'd only thought was in the movies. Now where I ask, knowing where I am. For once amidst this, I think, border, which border, as I decide to head East to Tanzania, knowing we have a sister company there.

It's later that day, my eyes now in tears. 

On the news, knowing people I see. Their hacking children, pregnant mothers, fathers and sons.
What's taken this for the Tribes to have undone. I worked with both sides, for many a year. 

I now look back as I'm summoned, to give evidence at the '100 Days of Slaughter'
Caught up I am, to declaring Rwanda's loss, of my Tutsi wife, and our daughters

. 11th Oct 2014.

Details | Haiku | |


Once Every Second,
A child dies in Africa,
Where are your children?

Details | Rhyme | |

Satan's Reject

He walked through the misty fog, as day gave way to night. The hinges rattled on the graveyard gate, The sign for the dead to be alive. The howls of the un-forgiven, were secreted within the wind. No rest for the wicked, No rest for those who had sinned. The flesh hung off his creaky bones, giving off an odious smell. Disowned by Satan himself, Turned away from the gates of Hell Doomed to exist in torment, until the end of time. What fate awaits the living is unknown until comes the time for them to die.

Details | Verse | |

Spirituals and Drums

My ancestors walking in the night
using oil lights and moonlight for guides
while being instructed to Wade in the Water
to camouflage their scents like disguise

The Sweet Chariot awaited 
so they could ride away
Harriet was a soldier
and it wasn't an option to be caught during the day
That's the same mentality Nat Turner had when he sang
Steal Away

They would follow the drinking gourd
so all were in accord to go north
The Gospel Train was coming
and at the end of the journey
was a fine reward
Freedom was coming
and it was a long time coming and
they walked until they heard freedom bells ringing
and I still hear their tired footsteps running

Thinking of My Darling Nelly Gray
Stolen from my arms a random September day
and eliminated our chances to run away together
No family ties, no love, no strength says the oppressor

Then I hear the drums beat in the darkness
giving me the hope of finally being free
Maybe I'll follow them this time on faith
on bended knee
There must be a place for me among the light
of this darkness
Among oppression, thieves, evil-doers
no thought on their conscience

Thank goodness for the safe houses that
supported our traveled distances
and for the conductors who bore witnesses
and may God have mercy on the souls who
were against this
and on those who chose to forget this sh@!

I still hear crying in quilts of safety 
because I know that the burden was heavy
to be at the mercy of nature and patrol men
catching run-away slaves for money
Some did it bare feet with freedom ahead of this
loved induced journey and they made it
So all that bull about how your life is hard
just stuff it in an envelope and save it

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 | ekphrasis | |

To Whom It May Concern

To Whom it may concern,
the chances of my letter reaching you
are as slim as a message in a bottle.
My words throttle in waves of desolate emotion.
As common at it may be,
the moral to the message at sea is "Chance".
To Whom it may concern,
the chances of my letter reaching you
are as slim as a baby walking without a waddle.
My words throttle in falls of desolate emotion.
As common as it may be,
the moral of the waddling baby is "Chance".
To whom it may concern,
the chances of my letter reaching you
are as slim as a sponsor less model.
My words throttle in bankrupts of desolate emotion.
As common as it may be,
the moral to the model's degree is "Chance".
To Whom it may concern,
The chances of my letter reaching you are slim.
Because of my desolate emotions, I try any how.
As common as it may be,
It's by chance that one day you might hear me
Sincerely, To Whom it may concern

Details | I do not know? | |

Somewhere We Don't Know

Beneath this gloomy sky, I can feel the warmth of that shy sun hiding between the clouds,
while sick breezes of hope ached the loneliness the dwells in the heart, mercilessly
burned the only memory that’s left of tomorrow, and I .. I was just trying to smell the
air of the eclipsed dawn, trying to breathe what is remained to breathe till I cross the
finish line.

And a touch of grief brought tears to the eye, seeing the life that had been shrouded in
somewhere else, oh, what have I missed! What have I missed in this cruel land!

So many joys I saw that never were mine, so many pains that bruised my nights, yet I never
thought they will be mine, and still I yearn for a life I believe exists in somewhere we
don’t know.

And so I closed my eyes beneath the wings of night, departing away, forsaking my deluded
dreams, burying my soul with the ashes of love and life, with all the dust of what is left
behind, sleeping silently as if no one will ever know that I was here in somewhere they
don’t really know.

"I hope you enjoy it :)"
you can find all my writing at my blog website "Echoes"

Details | Narrative | |

A missive from the damned to whoever have a little time to spend with this nonsense - Page 1

And so, I have made up my mind, once more.
I have decided to depart, to bid this husk farewell.
In order to do that, I must save coins if I desire to save myself.
For with it, I will be able to buy my ticket out here to a more blessed realm or the eternal void. Either way, I will be winning.
I mustn't, any longer, feel the starvation of affection and no more I shall be fed by the crumbs of fleeting joy they toss at me.

Thoughts of finishing are always in my mind, flooding it, making hard to go day by day, making hard to sleep, to have hope.
I fail to see where the hope is, I like to think that it can be find inside of one's heart.
But even so, I think I am mistaken, and when I glance at myself in the mirror, I quickly lose any spark of what could-be hope.

With the aid of the metallic sling, I shall leave this husf behind, heavy with its sins and sorrows, to no more nourish hatred.
For it does only to hinder my advance towards elevation.
With my metallic sling, I shall pierce, first, my heart, where lies the sorrow, then, my mind, where resides the sins.
Whilst the life in me start to wane, regrets I will not have, when my consciousness fade, my spirit will be no longer be trapped inside this imperfect cage of flesh.
Being free, my spirit shall roam far and beyond to, before, unseen places by men, to  untouched places by men.

Another day,someone inquired me "Are you happy now?" and for that I just said "Yes". How else could I have responded if not with a lie?
How could I tell them that I yearn for a premature closure in order to stop thinking and feeling but I also yearn for love.
"I am not absolutely happy, as per say, but I do suffer less when I am asleep" I could never say that to anyone...

Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.

Details | ekphrasis | |


On a silent night
In a kingdom by the sea

Bright moon and star
On dark mindnight sky

Shine silently above
Mermaid’s loud cry

Shallow tears lay
Into depths of hearts

Who seek paradise
In a kingdom by the sea

Where daylight doesn’t reach
Their eyes won’t see

You won’t find peace
There’s no heaven for thee

No sunrise would you witness
Nor sweet Annabel Lee

In a kingdom by the sea
Whoever you may be

No soul breaks free
From sweet Annabel Lee

Whatever drowns remains
In a kingdom by the sea

Details | Free verse | |

Black Jungle Cat

Several women were in the breezeway
Going from the sanctuary to the Fellowship Hall.
On either side of the French doors,
They gazed out the large windows in fear.
As I walked up to them, one of them asked
In hopeless desperation, "Who will go outside
And get the supplies for us."  They looked at each other.
She said this because the enemy was on our shores,
Patrolling every city, great and small.  I saw the armies.
People were afraid to venture outside their houses.
There were no soldiers in the street at this time.
It was a clear day.  I said to them, "I will go."
I opened and closed one French door and felt it...
FEAR was thick.  It crouched like a black jungle cat,
Panther or jaquar, lurking in the brush for prey.
My eyes were wide open as I walked the distance
Of the Staff's parking area.  There was a chamber 
Underground set aside for certain supplies.  
The enemy's presence was strong as I looked around.
I think I had to unlock its door before I opened it.
I took what was needed and walked through Fear.
I never saw him, but the enemy's threat to pounce
Was felt with each step until I quickly reached the porch
And entered back inside the church in front of the office.

(This is a dream I had the year after 9/11.)

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 | Ballad | |


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 | Than-Bauk | |

My Inner BOSS

Take my hand and walk with me, 
ill show you side of a world that you never seen. 
Ill show you where its ends meat and where gangsters meet,
this is where all the goons come out to play and steal the street. 

No one goes into my hood,
we done really care for you angry mood.
Music will blare everywhere around out street,
it's always dark and you cant see anything but peoples feet.

Your eyes open up so wide and a smile appears on your face,
you tell me you love this part of my village, and your heart stands no chance.
You ask me if you can stay with me and i answer, "ill need some more protection for you,
and make it seem like i had nothing to do.

It is my hood, don't get me wrong, i protect what i love with all my heart,
even if it means to kill one of my own demons for you, and put you as the start.
You walk me out to the streets where every one is dancing to the blaring music, to give me another chance,
we walk out onto the floor and begin to move your body in a way i never seen before, than you lean to me and ask, "would you like to dance"?

Dedicated to: Esther Baleva! 
PS: My one and only Angel. I Love Her!

Details | Lyric | |

Meet Me At The Gates

Standing across from damien
whom had been his lover for yea
He takes his heart out of his chest
And places it in Damiens hands
Kurt says "this heart belongs to you"
He askes Damien "do you want it?"
Damien places Kurts heart in his hands
"i dont"
Kurt throws it to the ground and stomps on it
Looking down at his crumpled heart a tear 
Falls from his cheek
He starts walking away
He falls to his knees
Like suffocating
Damien runs over to him
But is blocked by a black mist
Damien stands there whispering
"Kurt come back"
Kurt stands up and places his heart
Into Damiens pocket
As Kurt turns and walks away
The sky opens up
And kurt rises to the clouds
A few years later Damien joins him up at the gates

Details | Elegy | |

Stay with me

you are
I see you

you are
I hear you

So where
you are
you must be

You still exist
I still miss you

Thy sight
to me
by memory

you are
I see you

you are
I hear you

So where
you are
you are

stay with me
I need thee

a mere
unit am I
without an ally

you are
I need you

I feel
you are

I believe
you are
from Nowhere
to Somewhere

I believe
you are

stay with me


I need thee.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

No Parachutes,safety nets,souls,or hope

Love is whispered and not forgotten
If this be so
I deaf to soft lipped invitations seek no thought of hope
I of no past collection hold thought
To forget is gruesome and beautiful

My eyes, swift allies in my war of world tell no lies

Silent in the 4 walled chalkboard blue
Shakespearean mad men twist their tongues with words of bland hue

I believe the concept of Ugliness is more profound than that of beauty
Dreams of my bladed face fill up behind my eyes...scratching my mind

Nothing goes SURPRISE! anymore
To love and lose is not the exciting protagonist to never having lost love

the optimists run in circles
pretenders of despair hunt themselves

Every street is Desolation row and my window is covered with blood

Nothing comforts anything
No advice

....just surprises

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 | Quatrain | |

Renew on the Serengeti

The rains in fall on the Serengeti lands
It's impending approach is in natures plans
From barren to lush bringing droplets of pure
Seasonal they are, but will it remain her renewing cure

For we treat her lands so bad, so mean we don't console
Will we ever understand to our neglect that we extol
There will be a day, when these vast expanses turn to dust
And humans and their wants, will turn their iron into rust

We have to take a stand, before it's all to late
And sit around the mediating table before we reach hell's gate
Decisions for the good to be made for our futures kin
As the heads of State's shake hands, from this room within

Inspired by Wilma Neels poem "Renewal" ty.

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

Details | Couplet | |

When the Red Butterflies Fly

On a night in November with a full moon sky There is a graveyard in the Highlands where spirits fly Scriptures of old are chanted by the past As they rise through the earth as the red ones are cast Gravestones levitate with precision and ease As dark angels in black glide through the trees To a stone they surround as they circle above Slowly they transform into an ebony dark dove Upon this stone it perches as it awaits the await For when the red butterflies fly, the light they desecrate The sky turns from night into a reddy dawn As the moon hits their red their spirits now flown They land where they land, guided by the dark dove Their quest is to capture and lure life's love In the village near the graveyard on this November night A population in fear, in fright of their light Before the sun rises souls are drawn as if sprites No care for the living, their presence leaves blight A new day starts as if the previous night never happened For when the red butterflies fly, come this November night You may be summoned (!-V-!)

Details | Free verse | |

Pardon This Page

I reveal these words to the American,
who has the right to pardon this page,
while the whole world's getting out of hand,
as the evils of revelations rage,

Why's the US helping foreign lands?
when it can't get a grip on it's own,
If they intend to make any future plans...
why not start right here at home?

It's nobody's right to invade anywhere;
there's no serious threat here at home,
so send the officials whom send our troops there..
and on the front line with a cell phone,

Yea! parachute them in with a baseball bat,
a cell phone and a roll of duct tape,
One they get to where imposing minds are at...
they can put on their superman cape,

Or, drug them and issue them a used baseball bat,
a walkie talkie and a catchers mitt...
Once they realize where and the heck they're at,
there's a chance they'll resign or quit,

And pardon me if you don' t feel the same,
or believe "just" I do,
but those thousands of humans killed and maimed...
continue growing in numbers too.

Details | Free verse | |

Knowledge of the Madness

Long ago, in this white room, 
They bring me here everyday. 
All the halls and rooms are clean. 
Every night, one person disappears, 
Leaving only a few to stay. 

Tapping sounds walk down the hall, 
As the second twin continues on.
He smiles at me for a last time,
A laugh and a chainsaw echoes along, 
But ends before the clock strikes dawn. 

Soon it will be my turn to visit, 
The room where red flowers grow.
The gardener there will greet me,
With a very kind smile, 
And then look below. 

The dog in the garden eats so much, 
And he comes forth when a small, 
Lovely red sphere rolls down. 
I can’t wait for my turn to come, 
When I get to walk down the hall. 

It is me…It is me…It is me…
It is me…It is me…It is me…
It is me…It is me…It is me…

Details | ABC | |

Snows Glorious Realm

A Blizzard can drive even flurries graciousness hard intensifying journeys kingdoms laboring missions neighborhoods overridden pure quests reveal storms terrorizing unknowing victims with xenobiotic yielding zoothapsis.

Snow can be so beautiful and serene.
Though wet and bitterly chilling.
Unifying the countryside in brilliancy,
Victimizing the ground in slumber,
It must truly be experienced to appreciate its wonders.

ps I wrote one of both type : ABC

written by
Cecil Hickman

written for
Sponsor yasmin khan 
Contest Name SNOW ABC  

Details | Limerick | |

Dead Man's Shoes

They gave me some nice tennis shoes.
When I came to prison it's true.
    They said you must wear
    and you must not care.
That a dead man has done paid his dues.

For SKAT's "Shoes" contest

Details | I do not know? | |


Revolt in a see of blood oh mourner and cast your voice away, the regime will shoot at you
today and corpses will roll.  Protest in constant pain oh mourner and toss your body to
the wolves, the regime will fire missiles and the masses will explode.  The fires will
spread like cancer and the regime will turn it's heels, fore the masses fight for freedom
and their mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters will be killed.  Revolt against the
murderers and let true justice be your shield.

- How dare there exist a being who would drop bombs on innocent protesters and send armed
forces to shoot down mourners at a funeral.  

 Where is the human spirit hiding in these darkened times? The true spirit of what it
means to be alive.

Details | Rhyme | |

And Goliath Said

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION

Details | Lyric | |

Times Were Tough

I come from down in the valley, there, my father's house shines hard and bright in the darkness on the edge of town, like my memories calling so cold and alone troubled times had come to my hometown times were tough, love was not enough to feed us and keep us warm the greedy thieves that came around brought death to my hometown my father once told me, with every wish there comes a curse now, I understand what he meant you choose the chance you take still, at the end of every hard day, people find some reason to believe My hometown lays waiting for rebirth maybe everything that dies someday comes back By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, March 5, 2012 for Sing a Song a Poem contest (Tracie~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver) Eighth Place *Bruce Springsteen lyrics I come from down in the valley - The River My father's house shines hard and bright - My Father's House In the darkness on the edge of town - In the Darkness on the Edge of Town Calling and calling so cold and alone - My Father's House Troubled times had come to my hometown - My Hometown Times were tough, love was not enough - When You're Alone The greedy thieves that came around brought death to my hometown - Death to My Hometown With every wish there comes a curse - With Every Wish You choose the chance you take - The Price You Pay Still at the end of every hard day, people find some reason to believe - Reason To Believe Maybe everything that dies someday comes back - Atlantic City

Details | Rhyme | |


Another atrocity, just where does it end Two hundred and ninety eight people in plummeting send Flying to wherever, it doesn't matter where They were all entitled, simply to get there .

Details | Free verse | |

Crying Magnolias

When my heart is caving in and I feel all alone,
I wake up in the morning so far away from home.
When my soul is crying out and I feel like I'm lost,
I'll hold my head up proud so I will pay the cost.
So life won't pass me by, I'll live while I can.
Make the best of days gone by, wish I could hold in my hands,
my magnolias crying in the rain.
Wish I could catch the drops that fall.
Instead I remain so far away from home.

When I'm crying out for life,
I'll hold my dreams I have in store.
Even though it seems I can't get my foot in the door.
And though I'll pay the price, 
because I've sacrificed.
Soon I'll return again one day,
under Louisiana blue sky,
just so I could hold my,
magnolias crying in the rain.
Wish I could catch the drops that fall,
but instead I remain far away from home.

You gave me your hand to hold.
You kept me warm when I was cold.
So when my dreams unfold,
I'll be back to hold,
my magnolias crying in the rain,
so I can catch the drops that fall,
and no longer remain,
so far away from home.

Details | Monorhyme | |

Why Another Oil Spill

We know of this disastrous event As we now know of the spills extent All these years they had time to invent A remedy for repairable descent We allow them drilling consent To represent our resourceful contents Our geology is picked up by their scents Millions of years are turned into cents In Scotland we have oilfields called the Brent Where the same companies represent There is always the element of torment For nature there is never a lament All they are interested in is their percent One day they may be held to account and repent

Details | Rhyme | |

A Resolution for This time

A Resolution for This Time
(Based on Eccl. 3:1-15)
©2011 C. Brent Cloyd

I long to see the beauty of my time
Hear music from eternal bells that chime
Enjoy earth, till this good life I sever
Look toward heaven that last forever

I’ll grasp my part in each life occasion 
Banish thoughts and deeds of ill persuasion
Accept God’s design for each life season
Submit that I need not know His reason

I will celebrate life so wondrous born
Understand that death is not always scorn
Propagate goodness and wholeness in life
And uproot that which causes pain and strife

I’ll concede it’s sometimes proper to kill
But until convinced I’ll promote goodwill
Useless things I will tear down and destroy
Then plan to build, and work efforts deploy

I will comfort the hearts of those forlorn
Together find God’s healing as we mourn
Dare to dream, love, have hope, and take a chance
Embrace the moment, laugh, and learn to dance

I’ll speak with passion, let pieces scatter
Gather the fragments, avoid the chatter
Engage opinions, proceed with a shrug
When acceptable, open arms and hug

For things of value I’ll search at great cost
When searching is exhausted count it lost
When usefulness has ended, throw away
But don’t allow important things to stray

Now is the time to tear some things apart
Then with care I’ll mend and make a new start
Learn the lesson that silence is golden
Of words fitly said men are beholden

I pledge to hate what is cruel and unjust
Teach that kindness and fairness are a must
In war, anger and malice find release
But I’ll use my voice to encourage peace

Yesteryear’s events once again will be
To measure their success we wait and see
God’s deeds are good, lasting and without flaw
Of Him and His works I will gaze in awe.

Details | I do not know? | |

Yonder Setting Sun

I have taken my final arrow,
My race has now been run
I’ll depart from here and go in peace
Into yonder setting sun

I will climb aboard the ship of death 
And cross the chilling tide
I will go to yonder setting sun
As on this ship I will ride

I will not fear what lies ahead,
Or what I cannot tell
I’ll stand upon the bough and wave
To this life farewell

I will now close my eyes in death,
Weary from the race I’ve run
As upon the bough of death’s ship I will ride
To yonder setting sun

Details | Ballad | |

The forest of grief

The forest of grief:

At night I can hear the pain filled screams coming from the forest of grief. Longing, despair, and terror seeps in from the thick tree line into my bedroom window.

Their inhuman wails send chills down the nap of my neck rendering me unable to move. 

“What horrible events accrued inside this desolate place?”

No vegetation, growth, or life exist.
Only the suffering from distant pasts.
Time itself seems to be halted by the walls of the dense forest that shelter its ghostly inhabitants.

“Do they know death?
Do they know of the life they once led or can they even hear their own horror filled cries?

I do, I feel every heart breaking emotion as I lay in wait for dawn to break.”

There is no rest for them or me, the lonely women who tends the forest of grief.

Details | Etheree | |

Daddy Dearest

even though
your gone from here
I shall remember
father's day has always
been your favorite time so
today I come and placed a rose
at the foot of your grave- sites bedding
and I even placed one for mama too

In Loving Memory

Daddy 1925-1981
Mama  1934-2005


Details | Rhyme | |

7-7 London terror

7/7 London terror attack 2005

7/7 London terror 

On the local bus and heading west, 
Going into London town. 
There's something happened ahead, 
Coz' the police are all around. 

There are sirens in the distance, 
There is panic in the air. 
I am early for my interview, 
So I do not need to care. 

Then a phone call from my brother, 
And I asked, "what's all the fuss?" 
His words to me were frightening, 
"Get off that bloody bus". 

He spoke then of the carnage, 
Of the scenes of disbelief. 
The blood, the smoke, the murder, 
The unrequited grief. 

I could not travel further, 
As the news it quickly spread. 
Reports of bombs and suicides, 
And of countless people dead. 

I walked into a betting shop, 
Saw the broadcasts of the news. 
Then I saw those scenes of carnage, 
And those sad uncensored views. 

I saw the blood, the tears, 
The shock, the sobbing cries. 
I asked God, "what is happening?", 
As the tears filled up my eyes. 

To the bastards who have killed today, 
It is you we do not fear. 
For every person you have killed, 
There are ten more coming here. 

You can bomb us in the tube trains, 
On the buses, in the street. 
You can hi-jack cars and aeroplanes, 
For its us you won't defeat. 

You can bomb us in our villages, 
You can bomb Old London town. 
You can bomb us in the countryside, 
For you'll never bring us down................ 

In memory of the victims of the London bombing of 2005

Details | Rhyme | |


Why did God create angels
to wander behind the gates
of Heaven to protect it from Hell,
or to obey the command of His will?

Without my knowledge, or comphrension,
He assigned one of them to protect me...
why would a mortal like me defy His intention?
Everywhere I go, that angel safeguards me.

Perils on the road multiply as countless miles,
blind corners can kill, if someone is not keen;
pedestrians cross boulevards at red lights,
signs warn to cross them when they turn green.

I often feel that a spiritual being is walking beside me,
he doesn't breathe, cast a shadow, or can be seen...
but that angelic presence is strong: that's why I feel safe and laugh
as a babe in the arms of a mother whose endless love surpasses death.

Everybody thinks that the mission of angels is to read sacred books
and sing of God's glory, not watching us who dwell on this planet of fright;
how wrong they must be for their limited insight when their life is not bright!
Think again: they are in search of good souls to reward them with miracles!

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 | 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 | 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


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 | Free verse | |

The Eternal Infernos of Pain

Front and Center!
Those Gates adorned with pearls in Heaven.
White angels soaring. 

If by chance, 
Ordered to enter;
Through St. Peter's Permission; 
I demand from you chancellor; 
A swift insanity plea, submission. 
For this troubled soul is plagued, 
By vast displays of wicked ways. 

None lost. 
Courtesy of meticulous examination. 
Love lost. 

Diligence pending Investigation. 
Key Evidence, perpetually documented 
In Sin's ominous catalog. 
Rebuke my Judge! 
For multitudes of shortcomings, 
He failed to ascertain. 

Moreover, present was He, 
When Satan drafted me. 
First round,
Pick three.
His Fantasy League...
"The Eternal Infernos of Pain" 

JS Lambert

Details | Couplet | |

Beyond the Pleasant Hill

Was just a walk beyond the road -- a shortcut past the bog,
No different than the night before but this night there was fog.
I climbed the pleasant hill from which the ‘yard had got it’s name,
So cold and dark it was that night, a dim light I did flame.
Blackest of the blackest eve’s I thought I might go blind,
So quickly paced, I past the stone’s of relatives that died.
Just past the breeze that got the willow shaking in the night
I saw someone just standing where my path comes into sight --

I wondered why tonight they’d chosen 
To walk the same path I was roamin’
A closer look, not man nor woman…
So still -- as if their form was frozen…
“They must be lost“, I thought out loud, no light to find the path,  
So maybe they’re just standing there awaiting someone’s laugh.
Or maybe they are frozen stiff by seeing my form too --
I couldn’t move though,  be it  just another passing through
My flashlight though, so dim, was shining on them, so it seemed…
…No looking up, no squinting eyes or arms to hide the beam,
How could they not have noticed me, the light is right upon them?
And just as I brought down my hand to light the way  so trodden…

I heard them move in front of me
That form that stood beside the tree
A quick response I shone the light
Back at the path ahead in fright
No person was still standing there…
Just Trees, beyond the path I dared --

I stood there for eternity a-gasp and scared to death,
Staring hard upon that spot where someone drew their breath.
They’re somewhere past the beam of light that’s dimming by the second --
The eerie melody from lonely crickets only beckoned.
A sudden crackle at my feet as if one stopped behind,
I felt my heart beat through my chest, I thought I’d lost my mind.
I thought I felt a windy chill then whisper past my ear,
But turned to shine my light upon no stranger standing near.

That instant -- I had dropped my bag and ran towards the gate,
I swore I heard them running too I had no time to waste.
So as I reached the entrance, looking back I think I said, 

“If you’re still there, I’ve changed my mind, I’ll take the street instead.”

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

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 | Dramatic monologue | |

Woe Is Me

Words have no more Meaning I find myself Deadlocked In an Ethiopian Night I Could go recklessly on But with what Hope? Will I Glide on? The Only thing I can find is woe only woe, only me, woe is me Voided since the start I'm contradictory in Armenia desert Mountains are more like rusty daggers pierced in my stomach; what else is there but pain? only pain, only me, pain is me

Details | Lyric | |

Moon Light Bright

                                                     Moon Light Bright.

                                                Oooh you shine so bright 

                                in every full autumn night without your friend in cite, 

                                       that helps you dominate the night sky 

                                                with your dens chilling light 

                    which helps me seek my ways throw the hunting mystery of the night,
                                                  without a single flashlight.

                                        Theo I wish on every day and every night 
                            nature can deliver such a beautiful cite... Moon Light Bright.

Poetry 2/23/11 by Keith Kadell

Details | Rhyme | |

On the banks of the River Sticks

On the banks of the River Sticks
I stand and stare 
With my skin so open and bare
In a line formed of lost time
I stand on the banks of the River Sticks
Wondering why the fog is now so thick
Reaching closer the hand of death 
And feeling his cold harsh killing breath
On the banks of the River Sticks
Lined up in rows of six
Crossing over to the other side
No place to run or hide
Hope to god he spares you skin 
But only if you did not sin
On the banks of the River Sticks
All eternity feeling sick
My body sleeps forever to come
But my soul is crushed by death’s strong thumb
On the banks of the river sticks

Details | Rhyme | |

Poetry About Poetry

Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows 
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs 
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp

Details | Sonnet | |


Living in Paris as un homme du monde*
searching for la belle dame* strolling
by the Seine dreaming of stars gliding...
when she starts her swift danse macabre*,
to forget she was a famous femme savante.*
In autres temps,* Marie was a beauty:
who conquered wealthy men in France and Italy...
her soprano's voice stunned them in each scene!
Ma belle Marie,* tout le monde*: from New York to Paris,
went wild applauding you in elegant Opera Houses!
Ma belle Marie,* you savored success and riches, hating the baby in your womb;
and not being satisfied, you attempted to mercilessly destroy two lives! 
Ma belle Marie,* get rid of that vile thought...replace it with thankful payers!
I came to Paris to be un homme du monde,* not to put flowers on your tomb!

un homme du monde: a sophisticated man
la belle dame: the beautiful lady
danse macabre: dance of death
femme savante: learned and cultured woman
autres temps: other times
ma belle Marie: my beautiful Marie
tout le monde: everybody

Details | I do not know? | |

The Lady

In the light of the ghostly moon Through the whispering of the trees The old house is deadly quiet As the Lady walks the night. The dark house oversees With wise and open eyes The still graveyard sleeps on. As the Lady walks the night. Many secrets are to be found Under the gravestones so cold But no one dares to ask why The Lady walks the night.

Details | Monorhyme | |


=============================================== ~*~ 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 | 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 | I do not know? | |

Brain Dead

There I lay.

Remained, unchanged.
Mind numb, thoughts blank,
Only visions of snowy white project onto the black backs of my eyelids.

Was I paralyzed? Or perhaps I had reached my final destination six feet under the earth...

No. Worse...
Writer's block.

I look around me. Nothing but enclosed darkness. No windows, no doors. 
The air is thick and cold...not yet cold enough to see my breath, but just cold enough for an uncomfortable setting...the monotonous silence is deafening...

I panic, running around frantically in the chilling prison walls of my mind, screaming, clawing, kicking, hoping to somehow break through and see the light of day. 
I stop after what seems like endless useless hours of fighting. Hands bruised and drenched in stale dried blood. 

I'm sitting on the ground now. I yell into the emptiness but receive nothing in return, no echo, nothing. I yawn wildly in fear I have gone deaf...but then I hear a voice. Soft and faint, so gentle that I'm ambushed with another attack of yawns to once again reassure that the tiny whispers are more than my blank labrynthed mind playing tricks on me.

There is a light. A small light, bright and inviting. Shining through an old fashion key hole, to an old fashion door that seemed to appear from thin air.

On hands and knees I approach it with caution. I hear the innocent voice again and I pause. I take a deep breath and look into the peep hole. 

I find myself locked eyes in the reflection of the wild appearance man in my computer screen and awaken.

Details | Rhyme | |

Bloody Omaha

Midnight June the 5th 1944 me and my buddies departed Weymouth and put out to 

To smash through Hitlers eastern wall to liberate Europe and make her once again 

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 

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 | Haiku | |

aralimilic pardin

all orchured prayers
                                 wolking it's agavien deed
a possiable plead

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 | Triolet | |


Dangerously playing on railroad tracks,
not hearing the whistle of the approaching train;
why would she be as reckless as rascals?
Dangerously playing on railroad tracks,
lining up on their thin edge small rocks...
not fearing death that can kill without pain.   
Dangerously playing on railroad tracks,
not hearing the whistle of the approaching train.

In the prime of her youth, there are no perilous thoughts...
considering her childish mind, she's taking a huge, useless risk;
has she intoxicated her young body with drugs or alcoholic drinks?
In her prime of youth, there are no perilous thoughts;
is she on a suicidal mission...shortening her unhappy days?
Why has she chosen not to live as others, who pursue a task?
In the prime of her youth, there are no perilous thoughts...
considering her childish mind, she taking a huge, useless risk.

Dangerously playing on railroad tracks,
not hearing the whistle of the approaching train;
what drives her to commit this deed of madness?
Dangerously playing on railroad tracks,
losing the perception of reality, which allows no short cuts; 
and by not appreciating life, she prefers loss over gain.
Dangerously playing on railroad tracks,
not heaing the whistle of the approaching train.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Clock

If time would just stand still,
then darkness would not fill,
the empty rooms at will.
With the power of my mind,
if I could just stop time,
by listening to the clock.
Tic-toc, tic-toc, Stop!

Frozen crystal chandaliers, 
no swaying drops of tears,
stop gleeming rays of light,
no sparkles in the night.
The music windchimes stop,
the silence of the clock,
tic-toc, tic-toc, Stop!

Tomorrow never nears,
an emptiness of fears.
The dream replays itself,
the loneliness not felt.
When gazing at the sea,
I taste the salty air.
The darkness covers me,
in silently dispair.
The bells begin to chime,
and then I know it's time.

Rose petals when they fall,
in my dream I do recall,
the darkness of this hall.
Black pearls that trim the wall.
Tomorrow is now met,
my eyes are truly set,
on time thats never met.
The clock begins again,
the ticking never ends.
Tic-toc, tic-toc, Winds!
Whipping tides! Rising high!
So I begin to close my eyes,
until the end of all due time.

Details | Narrative | |


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 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 | Haiku | |

Heart of Mine

A dangerous job Shafted as hearts collapse in Into energy bleed

Details | Terza Rima | |


Often I've been accused of being too righteous and wise;
a zealot putting all his efforts in an unquestionable faith,
and my trust is never weakened by a delayed promise.

Others have gone from this earthly place, to rest in unattended graves;
I've been derided by their indignant, loud laughter,
and you think I would have been intimitated by their offensive words?

Never did I react unkindly, just ignored them and walked away,
not knowing that they would have been cursed and faced punishment;
and with premonition, I had foreseen every event of their destiny. 

Today, confiding in someone who will take time to listen... 
will give me a reliance not smeared with absurd ridicule;
I can give good advice: unforgettable words that will remain. 

Confide in selfless, trustworthy friends who show concern and self-assurance,
by their deeds you will know the trueness of their evident honesty;
so why wait and not run to one as I... and not start living without reluctance? 

Details | Quatrain | |

Living with Mother Nature's Bruise

We turned to each other when we heard on the news
Our daughters place of work, enduring mother nature's bruise
She worked on an island now swamped with wrath
To her we now travel to retrace her last path

To go there blind never knowing if she breathes
Thoughts think the worst as we subconsciously grieve
Our daughter, our life, as we make plans to depart
Facing hours of torment as our minds tear apart

To this island we head where she enjoys life to the full
Thinking back to her young years, learning in school
This paradise as she calls it, in the Indian Ocean
Our minds picture, her love to live notions

We step of the plane into a world far from home
Praying we find her, dead or alive, to never roam
To the north of the island, Aceh is it's name
Is this where we find her, with no one to blame

We reach the village, it's where our daughter calls home
Teaching the youngsters English along the beaches they combed
We wander dazed and confused, joining the crying and the grieving
Emotional rescuers surround us, they just keep on believing

Hand in hand we stare hoping, as our eyes glimpse the lost
Our daughters not there, as we join the emotional exhaust
Suddenly I feel a tugging on my sleeve
Lady lady, you my teachers mama, come with me please

Looking down, my eyes cascading with tears
A beautiful young girl, momentarily relieving my fears
Lady lady, please please, come with me please
To a makeshift hospital she takes us, our hearts so in unease

To a door we arrive, she cries, mama's teacher mama's teacher
As she is led away by the hospital preacher
We are greeted by a doctor, taken through corridors of death
The relieving earlier felt, now replaced by inner reft

The stench of death drifts, lost souls we feel crying
Resonating sounds echo, the last breaths of the dying
Cubicle after cubicle, every curtain our hearts run
In broken English, is she the one, is she the one

The second curtain from the last, the doctor once again opens
Despair and tears increase, parents lost in their hoping
Before us lies, a broken twisted bandaged soul
The tattoo on her ankle, I cry Nicole, it's our Nicole

Engulfed with emotions our cheeks streaming with tears
Viewing the earlier posters, parents losing their fears
Living this moment, realising their daughter has lived
As we look back to the pictures, knowing families are sieved

Words we will remember until the day we are gone
That moment we heard, is she the one, is she the one

Details | Narrative | |


...this is so intimate of time, as a first kiss of time close of soul, so near, so dear of heart beat, so precious a rhyme that flows so intimately,
deep of time, down by the Crystal Seas...
...this is so intimate of dreams,
dreaming reality,
as the Crystal Sea so reveals of destinies galore,
destined as the night light of the moon-glows of starry eyes,
upon the waters,
...seeing tranquility upon the waves...
watching to the depth of a dream,
and a sun-rise
being so true...
for underneath and within this a moon-lit poem of starry night eyes, down by the Crystal Seas, a vessel sets sail upon the deep...into a kiss of dawn...
Sea to shinning Sea.

Details | Free verse | |

King Of The Hill

<                                               Vietnam War
                                              Capture of Saigon

                                               What The Hell For

                                                   Guerrilla war

                                                 Conventional war

                                                 What The Hell For

                                                    U.S.  Soldiers 


                                                 What The Hell For

My Thoughts On 
The Vietnam War

May All R.I.P.



Details | Free verse | |

The Road I Traveled To Learn To Fly

When times were hard and the road was so rough it seemed my best efforts were not nearly enough I took a prescription of self-inflicting damaging words to tear my higher self down To tear myself down a very high risk I thought as I stood at the edge of the cliff for better or worse I shall learn to fly or the next fall could be the one where I die The day that I died I failed to exist floating impatiently into falseness who I was was not what made me the point of it all pointed into obscurity Live harder and faster void of disaster that was my goal from then and thereafter and right up to now it has worked well escaping the darkness in the great depths of hell from whence I came had to abstain this new existence now knows my name I painted it in the bad place I escaped as I stood firmly for the first time filled with faith.

Details | Free verse | |


Dark skin,
like leather stretched
A skeletal body
Cradled in her arms

Tiny claw like fingers
Clutching at her breast.
Fount of nothing
Fount of hunger

Little body dying
For nutrition
Tiny eyes,
Black, desperate

Mother crying,
Skeleton hands 
wrapped around
 the child.

A last little breath
Weak, begging
A last little moan
A last attempt at a suckle

The bruises still fresh
The pain in her heart
The rape of her body
The murder of her soul
A starved stomach
A dead child 
Ringing questions

Why do I suffer
When you sit in your mansion
Why did he die
For you,

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 | I do not know? | |

The Crucible

I can only begin,
To express what its like,
To have gone through such things,
As the crucible hike,
54 hours of torturing pain,
Which only got worse,
When it started to rain,
6 hours of sleep,
Issued 3 MRE'S,
5 recruits dropped,
Overcome by the heat,
After 2 days of hiking,
We were issued our masks,
Taken into a chamber,
Were we get CS gassed,
With the rest of our strength,
We head for the reaper,
Into the mountains,
We hike deeper and deeper,
80 pounds on our backs,
M16 to our side,
Ascending the mountain,
Screaming painfully inside,
The Reapers a monster,
It can swallow you up,
A truck had to follow,
To pick recruits up,
though it felt like forever,
We had finally arrived,
Beyond exhausted,
and sleep deprived,
Then the DI's scream out,
lets pack up our trash,
its time to head out,
So get off of your ass,
The hike back was torture,
But as we got back,
we ate a meal fit for warriors,
then marched straight to our racks,
Some thought they'd been dreaming,
Some wild cartoon,
But we had really overcome it,
As a team, a platoon!
Copyright © 2009 Zachary Jackson

Details | I do not know? | |

Forever Somewhere

Watch me as I shoot across the midnight sky
Looking almost as beautiful as I am fast
I do my best to try not to die
But we both know that I cannot last

Flames and faith blazing as I go
Because I know that just up around the bend
Is forever somewhere that I do not know
Is forever somewhere near my sweetest friend
Is forever somewhere where I still love you so
and forever somewhere near my bitter end..

Details | Haiku | |

Life Is No Picnic

the fourth of july
is no kind of picnic for
our fallen soldiers

You Are Not Forgotten

Happy Fourth Of July To All

Details | Free verse | |

33 Prayers

There's a time for loves to be won and lost… At least there was for us.
For 33 Chilean miners, lost below… life was simply stopped.
Alive and well, but buried deep…  2,200 feet below.
They had such a daunting, beautiful dream… to see the sky once more.
Being hot, little water, dark, only bites of food…17 days was asking a lot.
But life was true and held on strong, even when in the bowels of the earth you’re lost.
With each day the hopes began to fade, always bolstered by others to be strong.
Little did they know their prayers were there, were being answered in spades above.
Time went on as governments stopped, to send whomever they could to help.
The world looked on, every eye glued, as prayers they also imbued.
For once in their lives everyone together worked, for a common cause that’s true.
Building, digging, drilling, and planning… together as life below held on. 
No one knew the miners were truly alive, as the earth held them in a deathly grip.
But faith held everyone together, for 17 days, on this fateful trip.
Breaking thru a small hole to them in time was a monumental task indeed.
To do it bigger again, was asking God to plow the way and give them back again.
Drill bits broke, and no one slept, as dreams of home, the miners spun.
Several drillings were stopped by fate, as a single one held on.
Many things could have stopped those lives such as slides and after shocks.
Remember the mine was unstable, or it wouldn’t have fallen at all.
Everyone below was tired, hot, worn out, and sick by the time they reached their goal.
One small, flimsy, missile tied from above would have to drag them to the top.
Would it snag? Would the earth crumble? Could it take the buffeting there and back?
The tunnel was finally reinforced. The first people went below, as we held our breath.
One by one, for 24 hours they were brought up from beneath the earth.
Never in the time of man, has a feat been held to so tightly for 69 days and finally won.
Thank the Chilean government, it’s people, the world's and American help, for bringing them back.
Then like the miners did… get on your knees and thank the God above.
Yes… it was one unified, miraculous leap of faith, with God holding every ones hand.
It brought back faith in many things including God and yes, even your fellow man.

Details | Verse | |

Fantasies, Realities, and Sadness

When I gaze up at the stars,
all I want to do is fantasize 
about the unrealistic
images of life.

I wish I could just fly away
and live on the mountain tops of Australia.
In reality,
nothing like this ever happens.

I'm living in a fantasy dream.
I hope I never wake up 
I have to.

There are days where I feel lonely
and the dark gray clouds
shadow over my house.

I step outside
and let the rain touch my body.
Soaked by the wet and cold water,
I wilt away like a rose petal,
ready to escape my pain.

As I let the rain wash away my body
like hot water melting ice,
my heart turns into stone.

Stabbed by the prickly stems
of a rose.

To roam the earth 
with a broken heart.

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 | Rhyme | |

Acid Dawn

Let us rest our heads upon the pillow of denial, turn twilight in the last clear reflection of the silent moon. Where vile droppings fell the freshness of the morning sea, turn to graveyards, lest we be; 
...swimming in an acid dawn.

The corpse of shellings, scales a strewn, where once transparent was so blue,
this morning features scarlet hue, as skin is shredded in the burning morn. 
Where vile droppings fell the freshness of the morning sea, turn to graveyards, 
lest we be;
...swimming in an acid dawn.

...And come mid sun up, we shall bathe; 
within sulfuric, petrol waves and drink our lemon juice until we choke. 
Till our teeth rot and our tears evoke, the pandora’s box which we awoke. 

An orange bright, our arid plight, and we the specks of dust behind;
lurching a dehydrated, evaporated existence. Famine on our minds.
Walking footsteps which no longer walk, dreaming of the past to escape the future as the present seeps our blood and marrow, the desert sun, a piercing arrow, stabbing at our hearts.

We hobble, oh we hobble and we hobble through the wasted years, through bones and makeshift graves, we’ll hobble into the final age;
where vile droppings fell the freshness of the morning sea, turn to graveyards,
lest we be;
...swimming in an acid dawn.


It is estimated that within the next decade or two that the ocean will become so acidic as to dissolve the shells of mollusks and shellfish.  This in addition to the already dwindling supply of precious fresh water which we must share with our animal friends.  A supply by the way that we contaminate regularly, a supply that simply cannot be renewed. 

Desalination was looked upon as the next great solution to water shortage despite it's expense. However considering how the oceans are becoming increasingly polluted due to oil spill after oil spill and Fukushima's constant radioactive leaks, in addition to the acidification of the ocean itself, it appears that we will have no viable water to look forward to in the future. 

This is life.  Forget profit, it doesn't exist.  Nature has no concept of wealth, only of survival. If we all die, everything that we've accomplished will be forgotten, nature has no use for it. Currency will return to being simply paper and stone, and nothing else.

We need to stop thinking about ourselves and think of our children and all the other species that live upon the earth.

Details | Italian Sonnet | |


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 | Cowboy | |

Cherokee Summer

Paint ponies by the lodge
White manes

Turned silver in the moon’s glow
Taste of Mother Earth

Burden baskets hang at the door
They hold many seasons

Of worries & fears
The night owl comes

He sings the death song
Your time here has ended

The West door beckons you
Night Owl grows silent

© March 1984

In Memory of Jacob Michael MacCallister
March 18, 1957 ~ January 26, 1983

Details | Free verse | |


Images; pitiful black images
suckling frantically from dry, empty breasts.
Black eyes; wide open, fearful, but
mercifully blind to destiny's most unforgiving hand.

Victims:tormented by the incessant heat of the sun's bejewelled rays,
mercy is fleeting; uncompromising
shades of hopelessness cocoon innocent souls;
But Fate will cast its untimely shadow
Black is the colour of despair.

Details | Senryu | |


The button now pressed ¬~ In modern melted mould, we ~¬~ now die, a spent race ¬~

Details | Free verse | |

Lost Where They do not Belong <> End Line Poem

Parents and spouses to their photo's they look,  Another
           hero was killed fighting for our freedom.   Lost  
                       so far from his home and family,   Today
       we continue to send our sons and daughters,   But
                                there will come a day when,   They
                                      will live as free as we do.   Will
                         we ever learn from these theatres,    Never
                       again should we out live our children.    Be
  cause' another was lost today, but they will never be,    Forgotten

" I hope i have done this form devised by Dane Ann and HG proud "

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 | Haiku | |

September Mourn

shriveling towers
serpent cheering- mobs rejoice
fisher woman cries

Details | Ballad | |


Being born in the postwar fifties,
after darkness and catastrophe
ascended on all Europe,
I didn't experience cruelty and horror... 
but hope came from the defenders of freedom
from North America and England;
and their military supremacy crushed
Hitler's vanity and his inhumane empire!
I was given birth by a courageous mother,
who saw bombs drop on buildings,
and escaped to the countryside with a few belongings...
dragging grandmother to safety!

Fear was everywhere...people had to hide,
and liberty was a forbidden cry;
even in the Vatican City, and rumors...
if not facts, confirmed that some
were afraid to speak against this evil,
but continued to tremble,
and in doing so they let many die!
Wasn't God angry at their hypocrisy;
and if they had taken a stand against the evildoers...
wouldn't it spared many?

It's my turn to protest the evil
that destroyed the life of big and small
for their faith, religion and race;
those voices are still ignored,
but  they are finally heard;  
their thirst for peace and justice
will be quickly quenched!
It's my turn to heal their wounds
with sweet and consoling words of kindness,
and alleviate their fears that what happened yesterday...
must not be repeated in our history;
and wil I be able to do this without facing controversy?
It's my turn to use the written word,
to outshine everyone whose interest is greed! 

Nobody more than I
was saddened by this tragedy,
so powerful and overwhelming,
to promptly modify the traits of my personality;
to be more considerate and caring,
and partake in Humankind's destiny!
An Aquarius has many
distinguishing qualities
and talents, and I intend to use them wisely...
listening to their struggles 
with much sympathy!
It's my turn to use the written word,
to declare war on the state of unfair things,
proceed with caution on flapping winds...
to land where I am welcomed,
and see every hand touching mine;
only when the their joy returns, I can certainly smile!

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 | 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

Details | Blank verse | |


heavy with time and breath short
   light thankfully dims
to hide landscape scarred
    toys broken.

Details | Free verse | |


Stroll through the Illest Empire
So much heat feeling like we’re living in the fire
But we’re living under fire
Tell me how many shots must it take before my loved ones are crying at my own wake
Its time for a break from sad eyes I’ve seen grown men cry
It hurts to tell a loved one good-bye
It’s the same reason why they died
Hearts just too full of pride
Mothers praying their young’n wont be a victim of a homicide
Too many drive-bys blood shed for a block you really can’t call mine
Wishing we could turn back time
High off of nickels’ and dimes
Making moves to boost your grind looking for hope
But the hustle got us in a head choke
Don’t blame me for acting crazy cause this how the streets made me and you
To watch our back and throw bows and cuss
Cause you got to be tough when times are rough
I know your asking when will enough be enough
And truth is I don’t know but this is how it goes down
But if I make it out will you smile for me now

So many families struggling with poverty
I don’t judge cause that use to be me
Watching mom come home late
Barley any food on our plate
So young and life we already hate
Praying God bring us something great
My clothes were cheap imitates and kids called you on them for being fake
Knowing mom bust her ass to provide
But all your knock offs you begin to hide
Ashamed of what you own
I know how you feel I been there too
I see mothers walking there kids to school
And the walk is far when you cant afford a car
Mom hoping one day you’ll be a star
I know about being next to poor
Your local neighborhood liquor market is your grocery store
Wishing you didn’t have to go through that living off of food stamps
Cube the neighborhood is a trap but we’ll all be free
So smile for you and me

Even 2pac said smile for me
This isn’t how its always going to be unless you let it be
In our different way we’re all a G
Cause we’re trying to make it straight legit
Whatever your hustle never quit but don’t lose yourself in it
Cause you still got a long ways to go
Still got a long time to grow
Use what you know to get by or you wont survive
Remember to always keep your dreams alive
Whatever it is just do it and never try
The limit is the sky so keep your heads held high
And when you come to a hard road just always know nothing can keep you down
You’ll be able to come back around
So give yourself a chance
And I’ll smile for you now

JUNE ‘06

Details | I do not know? | |


Shadows shift to accomodate
Fire burning in my eyes
Fallen angels anoint  my feet
As I cross the gates of Dante's Dream

The holocaust licks my body
Crimson tears bead down my neck
Swollen lips part to sing
The accompanyment to misery

An upturned snear at the scorching heavens
Savage Power stretch my veins
Side by side, my familiar Sin
The world is ripe to be ravaged

Details | Free verse | |


Words hold the meaning that we assign them
Ever since the fall of the tower .....

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

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.
Alexander the Great
wooed her alive again.. 
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 | 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 

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 "

Details | Free verse | |

At World's End

At the end of the world I find a place full of everyone's problems to hide my mistakes in total solitude my thoughts become clear my mind is a cave filled with wonder of fear in this dark recession of oppressed memories I escape all the pain by forever running right off the radar the facade crashes down and I see me, the way I really am Worthless, useless, pointless and pathetic the load lessens greatly as I learn to accept it the feeling is beautiful I never want to escape I own my ugliness making yours seem so fake its fate, ever so present taking all into stride has never been as pleasant At the end of the world, voices chatter, unheard choice is just a word to a prisoner of destiny the reason is everything and everywhere but everyone is too busy to notice, or care too busy to love, with much time to hate running faster in circles until the harmony breaks then shoot out straight surprised to be falling down into darkness the last friend still calling.

Details | Free verse | |

You're Going To Die Laughing

I could just imagine Tom 
dancing in the Lord's Kitchen
wearing his Spandex Boxer Shorts
while his other goofy Friends Hammond and Rosie
pose as Vacuum Salesmen 
at a Dire Straits Gig
making Tidbits and poking Wormholes
with their Listerine Soaked Tissue box
Oh I know Tom has to be laughing in sweet Pain
as these two nut cases aboard an U.F.O.
and stay drifting to another brilliant Convention
on  Insomnia and Nuclear Waste Medicine
Bet they end up thinking that  Lunar Craters
is the head cheese in charge 
As they sit to Wine And Dine for free

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

Details | Rhyme | |

A Road to Nowhere

A road to nowhere A picturesque scene of trees turning bare Fresh autumn scents filling the air And a young woman on a journey traveling from here to there With a slow, steady pace and tapping shoes She creates an east rhythm to hum along to Walking along, not a care in the world Living her life, and living it well The cool crisp air softly blowing at her knees Coming throughout the autumn trees For a moment it almost seems Things aren't really ever as bad as they tend to seem Soaking in the last bit of light with a peaceful flow She passes along the last few trees with golden leaves shinning abode The now setting sun begins to give off a warm orangey red glow Setting off her long blonde hair as it moves to and fro Then out of the gleaming sky Fighting her rising fear from deep with inside Her heartbeat quickens, as she tries keeping a steady stride Hairs prickling up upon her neck, a raven screeches as it swoops by The absence oh heat, so abrupt Leaves her with chills, so corrupt Touching her soul as if almost freezing up Upon her face lay a perfect cut A gush of wind cuts across her chest And her forehead quickly covers with little beads of sweat Just as she's starting to fear she can't go on She twirls and turns then starts to run She whirls around but falls to her knees Blood slowly dripping down from her cheek The raven appears with an open beak Ans lets out a bloodcurdling screech "Raven, Raven, oh please don't die!" She laughs And looks upon the bird with a menacing smile Then lets out a satisfying sigh "Just please don't die" She gracefully stands with blood-lust filled eyes Her tapping shoes carrying her off into the night Her Raven black hair rocking to and fro And off down the road to nowhere she goes
Inspired by The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

Details | Rhyme | |

The Old House and the New Home

The Old House and the New Home
©2011 C. Brent Cloyd

I’ve lived in houses in the country side
There with my family I did abide
By the dust and gravel of a country road
Much pride was taken in our humble abode

I’ve lived in houses perched on a hill
Many of which are not standing still
They provided shelter in their time
Provoked memories that make life rhyme 

I’ve lived in a house on a city street
Where the neighbors came out at night to meet
I’ve lived in houses made of wood and stone
On avenues where children could safely roam

I’ve lived in houses of mortar and brick
Where driveways were paved and the grass was thick
I’ve enjoyed houses far better than most
Where friends would come and I could serve as host

But my current house seems like a foreign land
Where everyone wants to lend me a hand
Living in this place is not my desire
Of this arrangement I easily tire

The time has come for me to leave
To this old house I will not cleave
I no longer want a cottage here below
To a fine home in heaven soon I will go.

I long not for a mansion or streets of gold
But just a place where I will never grow old
A place where pain and sadness are never more
Where happiness is found on every shore

I am eager, yes ready, to move out
To possess my new home with a shout!
The promised home Jesus went to prepare
Death please come quickly, I want to be there.

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

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 | |


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 | |

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

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.

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 | Rhyme | |


It may seem crazy to be normal, go along with the flow and show no rage...
that all I seek is that moment of fame,
and though I don't criticize others, I am the only actor on this bright stage
with no one to please but my dame!

All I seek is that moment of fame to revenge friends of old might,
or should I say remorseless rivals instead?
Pull up those closed dark curtain and let in some warm sunlight...
is someone too hesitant and very afraid?

By wearing the finest Renaissance's costume tailored for an unfit lord,
I would resemble an insane Hamlet ready to engage in cold murder; 
God halt this hand from committing that crime with a sharp sword:
dungeon should my confinement upon an expeditious order!

All I seek is that moment of fame, something not hard to be earned;
see me act and applaud me for my great talent...
and if that delights you, remember the role I played
as a king whose rampant madness was his contemplated intent!

Details | Rhyme | |

On the Harbour She Stands

In her silk evening dress
On the harbour she stands
Looking out to the waters
That claimed her man

The sea was his life
Ever since he was a boy
To be a sailor
Was to be his pride and joy

He made the grade
Through naval school
He was brought up to understand
That the sea can be cruel

Then one night
In the Pentland Firth
The sea was about to show
Its almighty worth

A force nine storm
From the North Sea heads
As his ship was cast
Onto Dunnett Head

No prisoners were taken
This November night
Smashed to smithereens
As she disappeared from sight

The very next morning
The sea was calm and quiet
A difference of hours
From the previous nights riot

Along the rocky shoreline
Bodies were washed up
Bruised and battered
In deathly abrupt

In twisted grace
Her man was found
Amongst the ship he adored
In wreckage surround

On the anniversary of her loss
On the harbour she stands
Looking out to the waters
That claimed her man

Details | Rhyme | |

Sinister Masqurade

Tourniquet tightens your grip slips away,
sobriquet veins will stop their play,
wriggling fingers will cease to stay.

Stain the sheets with dreams of dying,
but pain will keep your hopes at bay.

Insanity painted these walls a long time past,
kept the screams inside its cast,
surgeon’s blood from inside a cask,
evil has broke its human fast.

Up the alley away from town,
demonic dreams like a misfit clown,
occult craves a footstep’s sound,
nails leave trails on the ground,
only their screams were ever found.

By: Shahroz S. Mousavi
"A Creepy, Scary Haunted House Poem, Please" Contest

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

Details | I do not know? | |

Oblivious Summer

Dedicated to my forever lost summer of ((2006))

Splashing all your cares away
And drowning in a fruit cocktail
Your sunglasses are costly but very sexy
And life's about just letting loose
Tonight my inhibitions will freed
Summertime's never been this fresh
And FEEL the wind
I HEAR the music 
I'm floating now
Hold my hand
Caress it slowly
It’s you and me
You're my one and only
Let me run wild
Let me dance
Let me sing
Till the sun
Returns and fades
Let the stars 
Watch and burn
Let me splash
My cares away
Be released 
And soar away
Light colors
Careless whispers
A dream I can't describe
Coral dreams
Down under, it seems
Sapphire sensations
Sunny hallucinations
Drown into a strawberry milkshake
Tropical fruits and sunny islands
Sit in the shades and drown in life
Stars are blind
Away from strife
Celebrate and smile
Breathe in the light
Music, sounds, songs of heaven
Palm trees, clouds—a summery dream
Now we're beautiful
We feel so beautiful
Life is beautiful
It started out so scorching, so intense
Beautiful summer
Made so much sense
The shadows, the shades
The snowflakes and rain
Apprehension and pain
Restlessly insane
A world of change
A wealth of sin
Were waiting for me
Behind the sunny winds

Details | Rhyme | |

Mother Nature's Revenge: First Stop Samoa (Cowritten with Carolyn Devonshire)

Note:  The following dialogue is between the voice of Mother Nature and the voice of man.
          It is dedicated to the countless victims of the earthquake-induced tsunami in Samoa.

My Ring of Fire sets ready to erupt
For I, Mother Nature, have had enough
Of pollutants invading reservoirs
And oil-drilled coastlines, sands coated by tar

         How thankful we are for this plentiful earth
         Proceeds and profits boast our corporate worth
         Our mistakes and errors in destructive ways
         Mother Nature will repair in a matter of days

Sea creatures poisoned by hazardous waste
Trash left on beaches by people in haste
Sea oats destroyed as construction proceeds
Turtle hatchlings wandering toward man made beams

         The land is aplenty with resources so fine
         We can wash away the debris, reap when mined
         Mercury, chemical and oils as well
         Mother Nature will dilute as we continue to sell

Whales wash up and expire on ocean shores
Battleships litter the deepest sea floors
With thinning ozone, sea temperatures rise
Igniting rage in my volatile eyes
         Another tanker runs aground of the Alaska coast
         Insurance companies payout, our boards in toast
         We can rely on our refineries and oil wells
         For Mother Nature will replace and it will all be swell

Earthquakes, tsunamis are my weapons
Earth’s last days may be man’s time to reckon

          We will reap the rewards as our conglomerates grow rich
          Mother Nature will allow, our industrial snitch

Details | ekphrasis | |

Batter Up {Ekphrasis}

In black granite
A place
To call home
In Battery

The Korean War Veterans Memorial
Located In Battery Park   N.Y

Details | Free verse | |


Seeing others doing harmful things,
excessively drinking and using hard drugs,
I say this road is the wisest one
a very prudent individual could ever take, 
hoping that nobody will lay flowers 
on that spot, where a horrible crash may occur.
Perhaps I've been too cautious...
when it comes to save what I hold most precious,
not afflicting useless pain on my body;
only praying to God to safeguard me. 

This afternoon, I visited my niece Crystal in Elmurst Hospital,
as she and her four friends were involved in a bad accident;
the driver, who had a legal alchool level in her blood, crashed 
into a light pole last Sunday morning; were they all drinking?
That's a mere speculation, but this kind of behavior is common
among teenagers; Asia, the driver of the car, is into a coma slowing improving. 
Crystal has a broken leg and fractured pelvis, begging nurses for help; 
and she is in acute pain and can hardly breath. Elisabeth is on a respirator...
due to a blood clot traveling to her lungs; the other two girls have minor injuries.

What does it take for irresponsible drivers not to be under the influence....
avoiding the mourning of a dear one, or even losing their own life?
Not many folks will heed this message...until they face death,
and nothing can be done to prevent them from diying.
Trongs of visitors crowd the hall, to inquire about their condition;
they hear their agony and are unable to help...ah, if they ever could!
So will you take that path which is the wisest one to avoid a possible tragedy,
or continue defying fate until its awfully late to enjoy a full life?
Their parents are as helpeless as I, but our faith makes hope grow...
that these kids will finally understand that a second chance is not given to all.

This horrible accident happened in Woodhaven, Queens, NY on August 15, 2010.

Details | Lyric | |

Arno Vale

Arno Vale
Bristol’s Necropolis
City of the Dead
Where the dead and living
In the daytime co-exist.

The path leads full circle
Around the tomb stones, chapels and trees
Tombstone white and bright in the sun
The trees decorated, woollen colours

Booted families trudge through the trees
Others visit the café and the gift shop
All this life in the garden of the dead
It seems almost pagan, in a Christian way
Reminding us of their marriage

The winter sun shines without warmth
Through the trees, the leaves still on the ground
Solitude without loneliness that is what is here
The dead not buried and forgotten;
But, with nature and the living instead.

Details | Rhyme | |

Life and Death and way beyond

Between birth and death, is the lifedream most lead
when two parents soweed that loving seed
their elders cautions, they took no heed
a baby was born on umbilical lead.
A Mum to nurture, a Dad to protect
from their love was borne this project
a golden nugget, with love they did prospect.
But, so many people seem to think
after life, it's all down the sink
maybe why they live on the brink?
When you die, over, that's it
ooh, what a crock of...summit!
I've got a few things to say on it,
Walk through the door, there's so much more
make that wall take a fall
the things we all could be
lift societies veil on Reality
you are you, but also me!
Other side of this curtain, wait and see
it really is something else, all so differently.
Why is it hidden when we are alive?
when earthly bodies still survive,
we only see one side of the ride
the rest only appears, once you have died!
But it's not the end, just something else
many other life stories, yet to tell
when the soul and fresh body does gell
a new tale to yell
I'm so glad that wall, it fell.
Putting on my brand new skin
my old lives ashes in the bin
so much of life remains unseen
a lifetime of unconscious dream
the power is within you
deep down, you know it's true
there's Absolutely, nothing you can't do!!

The varied planes of existence
separated by a virtual distance
by what some deem, Realities curtains
But, Everything IS, of that i'm certain!!
Written for the Life and Death....and in between contest
by Mr.John-Ovan.P.Hull

Details | Cowboy | |

Burlap & Barb Wire

That's why you have boot straps, she's heard the old vaqueros say
But she'd throw away all her tomorrows for one single yesterday 
She wishes deep down for a better day somewhere down the road
But for now the grief, loneliness & tears make a heavy load
She's much too young to carry the burden she's been thrown
But there is no other choice, she will push through on her own
She'll ride to hell & back again trying to outrun the pain
But no matter how far she rides, he'll not come home again
Her very own Cowboy Charming, a fairytale come true
Until a cruel twist of fate painted her world faded denim blue
How long will she replay that single moment in time?
A day & forever, she'll still find no reason or rhyme
She has tasted love's passion & felt its cruel sting
Felt both the elation & misery that only true love can bring
She once carried her heart like a balloon, bright & airy
Now she locks it away deep inside & is wary
She's sworn never again to give in to desire
Now, its covered with burlap 
& wrapped in barb wire 

(c) October 2003

Details | Narrative | |


Have you had or seen teenagers,
who abused drugs like marijuana
and became truant and unruly?
That same teens could be 
exposed to temptation again,
if they worked in a hospital,
where the supply of medical
marijuana is kept in glass cabinets.
And we think that modern vampires
are fiction as Drucula's legend seems;
there are indeed doctors and nurses
who will steal blood to satisfy their urge,
and if I have revealed this...
do you think that I am crazy?
If the FDA approved it,
what would the consquences be?
It will certainly diminish the acute pain in patients,
or make everyone around them get high?
Our streets are swarmed with pot heads,
who are hit daily by cars, because of unclear thinking;
and those who drive cause many fatal accidents...
others die of an overdose in filthy corners,
their lifeless bodies are spotted in small towns and big cities.
Is it a good idea to make it legal,
or will it endanger everyone in public places?

Details | Ottava rima | |


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 | Free verse | |

Alone at La Fiesta Brava

I didn't want to attend that damned bullfight, but my girlfriends finally persuaded 
me, seeing as though I had grown weary of the lone traveler routine, continually
taking the path of opposition.

So, at three pm, I found myself walking into that sandy arena on that deceivingly 
sunny day.

I spotted the bull, so beautiful he was, and gazed into those big, brown eyes; for 
a moment, just a moment, he appeared to stare back at me.

The matador was as smooth as his red and black velvet jacket, elegant as his 
black bow tie, and for a moment, just a moment, I was infatuated by his dark skin 
and straight white teeth, especially when he smiled and kissed me softly on my 
tiny hand.

Many people, mostly visitors from other lands, applauded him, praised him for 
his bravery as he taunted the bull with his fiery, red cloak.

But then, how was this animal to understand his fate?

Perhaps his instincts informed him that he was trapped, that forcibly, he was 
compelled to defend himself.  Perhaps.

And he did.

Brutally beaten, I observed as he lay defenseless, body consumed by sand, 
sides heaving while the matador proudly raised his hand to accommodate the 
vigorous spectators; my friends cheered along with the crowd.

I cried.

Note:  La Fiesta Brava is Spanish for "the brave festival."


Details | Rhyme | |

The Falling of the Innocent

Two planes strike
Towers rammed
What was to follow
Will leave them damned

A cowardly cause
No faith can claim
The horrors that day
Claimed lives and maim

Before the collapse
The whole world in view
Out of the few thousand
These were the few

Rather than stay
Not knowing their fate
Their decision to leap
Than in terror wait

The falling of the innocent
On this September day
As all around the world
For these people we prayed

< My tribute to the fallen ones on that September Day >

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 | Epic | |

About Kameron by Taylor

I stood in the room staring at that hard wooden floor.

Thought of him and then closed the door.
I looked back up and everything was black.
Suddenly I knew the pain was back.

But he loved me.
I knew that much.

Black and gray rags were scattered everywhere,
And all I could do was stare.

But he loved me .
I knew that much.

I sat on his bed and noticed that the tears started to shed.
Then I saw a very dark closet.
I heard our song and wanted to pause it.
I felt my heart slowing with the rhythm.

But he loved me.
I knew that much.

Light began to shine through the enormous window.
I looked over,
And there...was a shadow.
The giant black drapes turned blue.
I thought to myself:"This can't be true."

Because I knew he loved me.

The roses came back to life.
And the bed turned white.
The rags turned into his clothing.

The music slowed and I didn't know what I was being shown.
But I loved him.
A light came from the closet.

A light that was brighter than any of the stars in the sky.
I saw a figure,and again,I started to cry.
I saw his face,saw his smile,
And knew that this was our special place.
And he said I love you.

Those three words meant the world to me and him .
And I said,
...I love you a whole lot more.

Details | I do not know? | |

The day before tommorow

The day before tomorrow
The day of today

Every given moment
Oh the prices people pay

Any time
Any place
Any background 
Any race

The fight for freedom is dormant
We must quicken the pace
Dictatorship is upon
Communism we unknowingly face

Yet there is still hope
Just a thread, a trace

Regardless of color
Regardless of size
We must all unite
And stand up to fight
For somewhere an innocent woman cries
About all of this violence

Yet in the midst of the violence does it truly matter
About what shade of skin meets the eye
For we are all red
Deep inside

Details | Rhyme | |


I felt something which knocked me out...
then went to sleep on a snowy night;
hardly remembering any heartbeat in my wrist:
much colder than snow, whiter than a ghost.

I travelled into the airless, motionless athmosphere, clearly seeing 
magnificent planets drawing closer to Earth...
" Dead for sure " was that dreadful feeling,
and lighter than a falling leaf I floated greeting an imagined death.

Who raptured me? Was it a spirit being to induce a nightmare? 
All I saw was constellations that were as immense as Mars 
and black holes deeper than a volcano's inactive, scary crater...
fearing that they'd have swallowed me up in their blackdness.

If I had been dead, would I have felt fear, danger and fright?
A dead person doesn't feel, or hear anything...why did I still have senses?
Science fiction became real...horrible sights of clashing meteors:
exploding, scattering their debris causing an obscurity blacker than night.  

I had read of spaceships venturing into the unknown and mysterious space,
and wondered if they ever came back to tell of its infinite wonders;
no, I wasn't dreaming...I could have been the one never returning,
being trapped in an outer-body experience: shivering, screaming and not dying.

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 | I do not know? | |

Prey and Predator

Time reflects that which we have saught
We've wandered over for many a year
Never quite knowing what our search was for
The memories of an age gone past, guide my steps
As I too, wander
Staggering on into the abyss that is the on coming life
I know not where this jagged path will lead
I flee form the shaddows of the night walkers 
I flee into the hands of daybreak
Where I can see the juts in the road
The rocks that cut my feet
I can see the pain
And so I can avoid it
When the drapes close upon the sky I lose my way
My eyes are blind, 
My ears can hear
The unfamiliar voices that rape my ears 
The sounds that claw at the walls of my mind
They whisper to me
I scream at them
I tear at them in the dark
They taunt me
I run on
Upon this jagged path
Butterflies' blood is strewn across my step
The blood of the lamb as well
At night when the sounds are in there
In my head
I become the wolf
The lamb as my prey
But hush now
Don't speak
The drapes again pull away
Dawn approaches
And I am again a butterfly
I am again the lamb
Time as kept me wandering, on and on
Forever more
Running form the wolves inside my mind 

Details | Haiku | |

The Old Grave

the old grave…
unwanted tare adorning
my own epitaph

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 | Dramatic Verse | |

Murder of the innocent

Murder of the innocent............. 

One door opens, as another door shuts, 
Drugs, knives, coppers, over dressed sluts. 
Colours worn, weapons in hand, 
Children dying in a blood tainted land. 

No more hatred, no weapons to yield, 
No more coffins in a mud sodden field. 
Hatred now gone, no more youngsters to die, 
No need for anger at the places they lie. 

When the door opens, the door opens wide, 
No more denying, no places to hide. 
No time for distance, no walking away, 
No children dying, no murders today......... 

In memory of the victims of the British culture of knife crime.

Details | Rhyme | |

Ashes to Ashes

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust 

Life may be lost
In a single wind gust

The question is 
What is the next level
Questions number far more than answers
Is there really a devil
Is there really a god

These are questions mankind has been
Asking since the beginning
Some say it is a sin
To question reality

Yet should sin be labeled
Those who have not found the road
To a power only known in fable

Mythic stories and tales
Portray the snake to be evil

Yet the good
Is that of the eagle

Evil is creation 
That of the mind

Yet the fiendish
May only prevail
If faith shall fail

Light is everywhere
One just must know where to look
Dark may be
Illuminated by the good

Yet light may not
Be darkened by the bad

Only when the clouds
Are up in the sky
Shall light dim
At the sight of the eye

There is one thing
Good shall remain throughout
Only if one believes
Beyond any doubt

Details | Epigram | |

I've Fallen And Can't Get Up

brother's marked tombstone, honoring thy name

Tribute To Armed Forces
And Those Fallen From Wars

Note I Did Not Lose A Brother To War
But Brother And Myself Did Serve
Him A Marine And Me For Army
But Sadly Enough Others Did Fall
In The Line Of Duty

Also This Is My Entry For 
Raul Moreno's Six Word Masterpieces Epigram Contest

Details | Verse | |

Lonely House

No one home in this house the cupboards are bare
No carpets to walk upon
No curtains to pull
No laughter no tears, Just memories of happier years.

Details | Quintain (English) | |


They were once enslaved in idolatrous Egypt,
and Moses led them out of that wicked land,
when the Third Reich came to power in Europe,
Hitler deepened his hatred for them; no nation 
dared to save them, so their extermination began.

They were locked in the cramped rooms of concentration camps,
later burned in gas chambers, then thrown into mass graves;
their human lives were worthless to him, and many walked
into those darkened chambers filled with the stench of death,
holding their children so afraid and shivering in the bitter cold.

In the windowless rooms with bankers beds, scary eyes roved in darkness:
in there, life was a flickering candle kept alive by an incredible faith,
and God in His immense mercy, descended here to comfort them...
while the Evil One continued to spread death and fear among nations;
no documents were found, but piles of corpses witnessed those atrocities.

Details | Lyric | |

Call Off

    Call off our Troops,
    they don't have a
    clue on the real
    scoop; because
    the President has
    them jumping thru
    invisible loops.

    Call off our men in
    green, death is the
    only thing they've
    seen; and only to be
    used as the President's
    personal killing Machine.

    Call off this W.A.R, we've
    been misled and we're
    not sure what it's for any
    more; but from the way 
    things are looking I would
    say," That President Bush
    Just Wanted To Settle A
    Personal Score."

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
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.


Details | Epic | |

My Door

I have been stuck in this room for what seems like an eternity. I could of sworn the door I took to get here was right there but it's gone now. It was just like any other door I have taken in my life. But the door has vanished leaving me in this room which also has never happened before. This room is completely devoid of all color and sound even time seems to have no affect here. There is however a door in front of me. This door was like all the others except for two lines of bold writing that read "Christopher Michael Waters" and under that "June 22 1986" For some reason the door made me nervous but no matter how long or hard I looked I could not find another way out and I could not just sit here forever. So I walked up to the door and when I got within reach my stomach turned but I tried to ignore it and reached out to open to open it. When I had the knob in my hand the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and gave me goosebumps up and down my arm something was not right about this door and every instinct I had told me to run. But I had no other choice this was the only way out I had already tried everything else I could think of. Slowly I started to open the door and inside my head I heard screamed "No Run Run From this place. Do not open that door!" I instantly lost my nerve but it was to late the door swung open. Within there was neither light or darkness just nothingness. I just had a second to see this and no time to ponder what it meant because once the door was open I was gone and nothingness was left behind.

Details | Free verse | |

Egyptian Burials

Gently coated with 24 karats,
Lungs, innards, entrails, liver,
The heart left untouched,
Egyptian burials,
Wrapped in cheesecloth.  

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 | 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 | Free verse | |

Crimsworth Dean

Crimsworth Dene

Light relieved land stamped down and raised mounds and hidden folds, revealed the valley’s follies, farms and sunken rivers.

The bright afternoon eye-level sun painted radiance on the dead leaves’ shimmer, rainbowed the waterfall’s joyful spray, and drew eyemotes floating into dancing stars against the sheeted blue.

Outward away past the framed horizon, the sillhouetted church, the tiny Pike, crepuscular shafts healed the broken air and the shining clouds glowed.

The ancient ruin of a farmhouse still holds the ghosts of lovers that once longed across the valley’s gape, forbidden to cross. They rest somewhere near, whilst their dreams still fall towards the river where today, the clough throws its soul-drops over Lumb Falls. Follow the water, and the stream for an instant, becomes brief despariing citizens of the beck hurling themselves, flying and dying to join the river-republic of the hereafter and tumble on ecstatic to the sea.

The central beam, the backbone of the farm, cracked and snapped one day and  still rests piercing the floor, now boggy grass. Where the foxgloves towerin early summer, the moss has taken over the lease and the sheep shelter in what is left of the larder and the parlour. Somewhere under the boulders, the bedroom continues to rot , and where their passion lived, the sun now lures weeds towards itself, rising and falling through the centuries.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Waiting Room- A Duo Rhyme

Sit waiting in this house of pain
Against the window beats the rain
Afraid to stay, afraid to go
The minutes passing oh so slow
I hear them rushing to and fro
A seed of hope begins to grow
I cannot stand another blow
Unwise  to let emotion show
At last they tell me what they know
And then the tears begin to flow
No longer hope we entertain
For death has sung his last refrain

Details | ABC | |


Throughout the world's history,
we read compelling stories
of the defending soldiers of the tenderest age;
and we can be moved to tears
by the purity of their courage:
they died on the battlefield,
never breaking their promise
or fall short of integrity... 

Defending soldiers of the tenderest age as handsome
as the daffodils of the undulating fields,
nothing scares you when it comes
to protecting your motherland with that freedom: 
as intrepid as the eagles in the open skies...
Defending soldiers as true as warriors,
you push forward with the victorious thought
of becoming nothing more 
than the boldest soldiers:
seeing the smokey sky blast;
rescuing the wounded and closing the eyes
of the fallen ones bleeding on the burned grass...

If I were younger, and I had the same resistance,
I would fight with the indomitable spirit you own;
but my contribution is merely sympathetic words on paper,
which one of you will read on your return
to the homeland when all wait on you united in fond prayer:
with ribbons on trees and flags in their hands....   

Defending soldiers of the tenderest age,
all past heroes had one special trait:
the persistance and will to prevail,
and the final victory on their breath;
when everything else seemed to fail,
an indisputable faith prevented another threat...

Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci

Details | I do not know? | |

Even Death Cries Sometimes

I don’t want to go
It can’t be my time yet
Please give me the choice of two paths
Darkness is closing in on me
I close my eyes
But they are not really closed
I hold my ears
But I still hear the screams
I’m walking away
But my feet are not moving
How did I get here?
Where is this place
His hand is reaching out for me
But I don’t want it
I look into his lifeless eyes
As he reluctantly pulls back his hand slowly

It’s too close to home
Scenes that are heartbreaking to watch
But we are cocooned in our own little world sometimes
To really care
To really feel
To really do
But today it could have been me
I watch the TV
I listen to the radio
A story unfolding of
Heartless, faceless people
My heart sinks for a moment
I look into his lifeless eyes
Maybe even Death cries sometimes.

Written by Robert Meader 

This was written about the London Bombings, I had all the words down but did 
not have a title. Then I watched the film Meet Joe Black. In the film Brad Pitt plays 
Death and at the end he cannot have the one love he wants and he cries, I 
thought to myself, ‘Even Death cries Sometimes’ and the title came.

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

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Is Wilting

The spring is wilting, it's leaves of veins slit red and makeshift graves where truth once layed upon a bed of roses.   

Those roses whose shoots once rose, through ashes of adversity now show no signs that the roots are even there; the blood has drowned it everywhere.

The petals are burning through the smog, which strangles voices in it's fog; the vegetation doesn't grow, it bellows in pain as the rockets rain another day.

The spring is wilting, the summer's doubtful if it comes. All time is ending; and no ears can hear a sound.  The fires suffocate it all.

The glimmer of truth still skies the hope but still the peasants die;  there isn't time to mourn their passing for here come yet more rockets from the sky.

Will there ever be a summer?


To the martyrs and innocents killed in Libya, Syria and Bahrain. Let us pray your deaths were not in vain and that the world will see a summer come again.

Details | Lyric | |

Pecador Island

There's an island to the west
Where our dreams lie and rest
The people are nice
The people are fine
They'll feed your vice
What's your's is mine
This is Pecador Island, the land of fun
Party all night, live fast, be done
Snort the snow the villagers offer you
It's free, it's fine, you don't owe a due
It'll make you feel no pain, no cold
It's taste is bittersweet, you won't grow old

This is Pecador Island, the land of fun
Party all night, live fast, be done
Run your race here until your done
Party all night, all day, have some fun

The huka here is powerful and sweet
They often call it the Verde Treat
Just try it
Can't you see
One beautiful hit
Will make you see
Take it all in, don't cough it out
You'll be flyin' high, I got no doubts
The Verde Treat doesn't interest you?
Then join the slakers, the solemn few
They'll offer whiskey, gin, rum and coke
They'll fill you up till you're a joke

This is Pecador Island, the land of fun
Party all night, live fast, be done
If you can't recognize your face, you've won
Party all night, all day, have some fun
Pecador Island is a place to retreat
When your life has won, when you're beat
Forget the bad, remember the good
Do what you want, don't do what you should

The women here are frisky and fun
Beautiful as the setting sun
Take them to bed
Go for a whirl
Don't let them in your head
Don't dream of these girls
They'll love you as long as your rollin' it in
They'll love you more if you offer them gin
So get your glasses, fill their minds
Bring 'em up, throw 'em down, just unwind
You won't have to worry about 'em in the morning
But protect yourself, boy, just a warning

This is Pecador Island, the land of fun
Party all night, live fast, be done
Live your life like a loaded gun
Party all night, all day, have some fun
Pecador Island is a place to retreat
When your life has won, when you're beat
Forget the bad, remember the good
Do what you want, don't do what you should

The land of sinners, the land of love
A place to fly away, to fly above
To get away from the world around
The only way to leave is in the ground
This is Pecador Island

Details | Free verse | |

Imagine What You Can't See

The guns, the shooting, the fighting, the war. A young soldier hugs his family as he waits by the door. He knows he's ready, he knows he's right. He stayed up packing and praying all through the night. He's been training, but he's never been there, he can only imagine and prepare. His plane takes off, his heart beats fast, he's leaving for war at last. In his hand he holds a picture of his mom, dad, brother and his sister. He holds it tight and quietly wishes them farewell, he closes his eyes as tears start to swell. The plane lands in the hot heat, quickly he gets ready to jump from his seat. He runs screaming into the dark and stops, what he sees makes his heart drop. Famine, fear, diseases spread. People lying in the streets dead. Laying in the dark, staring at the moon's glare. He can only picture a gruesome nightmare.

Details | Haiku | |

I Remember

Labor Day
honoring those served
with remembrence

Tribute To
Fallen Soldiers

Details | Rhyme | |


Locked firm in place in desolate space so devoid of grace
Sire, looked grim, he was gone without a trace
Earth glistens from heaven's view so high
Like a blue sapphire it shines to open portals when we die

She calls in melancholy overtones up to him, 'spare us!'
'Spare me!' he replies, the spark, blunderbuss erupts
Powerful protection but without due reflection it denies
'Serendipity and karma', her tears tiny salty outcries

Cimmerian dreams and wrong deeds have plastered
A photo so disenchanted, time to make it remastered
Liverpool, Ashtabula, Argyle-socks in winter chill
Life renewed for her and he with such vibrant thrill

Will he be denied again is vibrating universally 
Resounding answer in negative signs catastrophically
May he be within the light he who shall never die
May he be within the right he who shall not lie

The rock is a desolate space, inside we must chisel 
With the master's hand the raw stone and drizzle
Love with the temperance of hate to craft
The Lord's masterpiece, his spiritual raft
Until we too see the sapphire's gleam

Details | Rhyme | |

At Any Moment I Could Leave This Earth

At Any Moment…  I Could Leave This Earth!

At any moment, I could leave my earthly home!
When this happens, I won’t be alone!

At any moment, my life could come to an end.
When I leave, I won’t be taking any friends!

At any moment, eternity could come for me.
Then I’ll leave this world beneath me!

At the moment, when my life shall disappear.
I’ll be with my Lord.  This is so clear!

At this moment, when I meet my savior above.
I’ll have a new body as a gift of his love.

After the moment, when I depart
 into the life eternal.
God will find my name in the
 “book of life’s journal.”

I remember the moment when I invited Jesus in.
And asked him to forgive 
my every sin.

I remember the moment I received his salvation.
In Christ…  I was a brand new creation!

This moment with Jesus can be yours as well!
The choice is clear.  It’s heaven or hell!

Won’t you take a moment with him?  You can know!
Where in eternity God will place your soul.

This moment can be yours.  Jesus is talking!
He stands at your hearts door,
 patiently knocking!

By Jim Pemberton

Details | Free verse | |

Locked And Blocked(In A War Torn Part Of Africa)

A forceful pungent smell
Hits me from this piece of land
Smeared with the precious blood
Of countless innocent people

Many vultures here hover
Over carcasses
Of several dead

I hear syllables
Of the long familiar refrain
Tightly knit together
Sounding clearer and clearer
At each virtual instance:

Don't leave me in the dark
Don't leave me in complete darkness
Sweet sister

For long have I waited
The light of day
Passionately have I endured
The troubles of the gloomy hours

The sky is unusually starry
And overcast
Morning seems a thousand
Years distant.

Proclivity gave birth
To rapid procreation
Insincerity paved the chance
For lust and greed

Alas, this country is in prison
And constant fears
In morbid grief
And mortal tears.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Gulf

Just below the Bayou 
And to the left of Tampa Bay
Is a place of peace and a breathtaking view
Where tourists dare to stay

This place is the Gulf of Mexico
Ask anyone, they have heard
News of the storm that will not go
And that everyone there is hurt

Darkness has turned this place
Into a floating hell
Families hurt, animals killed
And for what, an oil spill?

My God, we watch from afar
In disbelief of the odds
That such a horrible card
Could be played by man, not God

Regardless of where you live today
It affects us as a whole
Remember this place when you pray
Let the nightmare for all, be told

Details | Ballad | |


He keeps a very low profile,
afraid of the the horrible secret he hides;
hooked on a daily dosage of cocaine...
seeking an instant relief from his acute pain!
His cramped den is the stench
of smoked substance bought on drug-infested streets,
and filth is the undeniable evidence:
one can surely tell that he lives in Hell...
red devilish eyes and sunken cheeks; 
a wasted mind and body meeting their end!   

Restless young man without a name,
wary of the destructible consequences
that stunt your unremorseful conscience;
and what price will you pay and whom will you blame?
Restless young man without a name,
you only existed to fulfill a destiny of shame! 

Day-time is so detestable to him,
more than the viciousest enemy;
night-time changes his personality...  
and he searches for dope down-town,
where the houses are so run-down...
occupied by the crack-heads of East Main!
A limping kid, from nowhere, hands him
a small bag and he exchanges it for some green;
and what started the urge within...
is a deep wound, which can never heal! 

Restless young man without a name, 
intoxicated by the poison that destroys your life and health;
you can't be aware of what distorts your weak senses...
until you are helpless and run out of breath! 
Restless young man without a name,
guiltless and allow death to happily dance!

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 
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 "

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 | Sonnet | |

Black Death Lies

Recalling the days not so far away,
Hearing experts speaking to say,
We had not enough oil today.
There was not five million to sway.
No, no, we had not enough oil here.
We depend on foreign oil so clear.
What do I see plastered in the news.
Millions and millions per day we lose.
What, we did not have is ruining, life.
Millions of dollars spent in strife.
Sea life, peoples lives in peril.
By what we did not have by the barrel,
Now we know; we were lied too, big.
Black Death, we had not, flows from rig.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Awakening - Act 1

From our seas they came
A sleeping past
Depth sleepers they were 
As they leave us aghast

Our waters we thought
All tranquil and blue
Are running red
A quite different hue

The might of man
Was in downfall
Hence, from when we began

Sightings from all over
As our blues of depth
In modern theatre strike
Leave us red in reft

This, this 
Undescribable being
Honeycombed boned
Just what am i seeing

Buildings are complete
Bodies are drained
In modern day strain

There is a lull in their storm
They, i no longer see
But their aftermath
Is all around me

Mumified bodies
Children with mothers
Concave collapse
In dried out smother

I need to go with others
And gather our thoughts
In their rampage, pillage
We will soon be at nought

How do we react
To a hidden unknown
As our past has risen
Our life as we know it, blown

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 | Rhyme | |


Out of the gulf came a voodoo child
spawned from the depths of hell,
And cast upon this melting pot
her black magic spell.
And the voodoo child she watches
her dark potion swell
To envelop and engulf the 
poor serf and peasant.
Now the dead of the past 
greet those of the present,
And form their bonds 'neath
the citie's pale crescent.
And the voodoo child she cackles and
twirls her feathers of fowl and pheasant.

Details | I do not know? | |


Without a home
Without a future
Missing the luxury of life
The love that we buy ourselves
But they have smiles…
Real ones
They have beauty…
Natural and irreplaceable
And love…
Innocent, sincere love
That they give away freely 
Giving all they have and more
We are the ones who are alone
We’re missing the picture
Through less they have more
Through more we have less
Think about it

Details | Rhyme | |


Oh day of promised rapture from final resting place,

The first desire of heart to see my Savior’s face!

The beckoning of trumpet will pierce the Eastern skies,

I yearn so much to greet him and behold him with mine eyes!

Shall I awake in dew clad morn or velvet star-lit night,

Anticipating robe and crown and wings of silver bright!

Enduring grace, sweet love divine did span thou earth’s creation,

Great Son of God who lived to die for sinners soul salvation!

I long to hold thy nail scarred hand and kiss your thorn pricked brow,

Though birthed in sin he snatched me from Hell’s fiery bowel!

Twas stately mansions glistening in heaven’s glory gleam,

Their beauty was astounding as nought I’d ever seen.

The prophets were conversing of ancient days of old,

While children laughed and played on shining streets of gold.

A reunion day is coming dear loved ones and missed friends,

Where we’ll always be together and time shall never end!

Nor tear did dim an eye, and daily cares were gone,

Thousands gathered there to join in angels’ song!

Hallelujah to the Highest, holy praises we did sing,

To lift our voices as one to Christ, The Mighty King!

Details | Blank verse | |


If you don’t sow the seeds
Nothing can grow

If you won’t alight the fire
We shall all grow old in the cold

If you dare not raise the sun 
We must live in the blackened night

If the moon then forgets to rise
How do we both see our way in the dark?

If you cannot and will not tend to the land
We shall watch all we have built crumble and die

If the animals are unfed 
There will be no food for us all

If the signs are ignored
We must all perish and then fall

If the plants are not watered
This valley will cease to breath

If you forget to feed the birds
Then no longer can they sing

If the flowers refuse to open 
What will there be to see?

If the bread isn’t made
Then the people will grow weak

If the eggs do not hatch
New life cannot exist

If you toss away the gift heart of truth
A chance may not be found to put it right

If the god’s close their ears
Who will listen to us speak?

If the wheels become trapped
If the Earth pauses on its turn
Will you take your seat in life then?
Sweet sacred one?

Details | I do not know? | |


The sky of blue

The air so crisp

Actions are made

At ones own risk

Looking into
This hourglass

Also known as future
Or past
Everything is going by
 So damn fast

It seems as if
It is a sprint and I’m last

Limited are the options
That bring rewards

Only advice I can give
Is to at least explore

Details | Quatrain | |


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 | 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.

Details | Rhyme | |

Satan's Playground

I hear whispers through these trees Wild, wild, storms in my head just freeze With no sign of you or your face No warm feelings inside or your gentle embrace Learning who could have been by my side God knows how many times I've tried Cold shutters roll down my back Watching all sides and waiting for an attack Different sides of the story I've never found Silence in this forest --- not any types of sounds Twisted in agony his face appears Trapped on all sides of these bloody, shattered mirrors Silently slitting my wrists in dismay Trapped in Satan's playground It's time to play

Details | Ballad | |


The turbid clouds hover mountains
of fluttering maples,spruces and pines
while I am crossing those bridges of wonder,
adjoined by sturdy steel cables
that even an impetuous wind couldn't oscillate;
man's ingenuity outwitting Mother Nature...
a tuneful voice rising from a spirit that perpetuates!

Rageful rivers resent their lament,
as fast currents struggle to find an inlet;
my hard breath surrenders
to an unchallenged fear!
From above danger is like the force of gravity,
I race with a brave face, but the harsh wind 
still whips it with the strength of a twister,
blowing the pristine white sand...
turning it into a whirling dust cloud
only to diminish my visibility!

Let me cross those bridges of wonder,
in spite of lightning and thunder...
I'll brave the fiercest storm,
as long as courage allows me to proceed;
night may come as quickly as frightening thoughts,
but nothing would make my will recede
to a darkness that suppresses the freedom of choice!

When warriors are faced by a threat,
they don't turn back and accept defeat,
no doubt can thwart their plan:
it's either death or glory,
unsurmountable pain or joy;
their ego is hardly broken through dire!
Ah! See them crossing those bridges of wander,
and like me, they rejoice when the battle ends!  

Details | Free verse | |

God Bless Old Orchard Beach, Maine

Step between the clumps of weed
and tangled traps of trash. Footprints
in the shallow face of the damp sand
fill with pooled water.

Look out, past the wide horizon,
the stretched, vast blue;
point to the pinpoint,  where the hazed
hot sky meets the bumping, cresting waves;

walk, in between the hordes
of Canadian  tourists speaking in clouds
of broken French

feel the dry sand hot
as it collapses around your ankle

“We’re walking to the palm reader —
                  Yes,       In between the arcade and the train tracks.
Come with us.
This beach never changes. The brine
still clasps on the wooden legs of the Pier,
as it always has. The gulls still
swarm down on scraps of fries. Empty bottles
of coffee brandy still litter the darkness 
of the Pier's underbelly.

Long ago, I thought I could see England
from this beach. Long ago,
I thought I could swim to England from
this beach.

Long ago, when I was a child,  I was a tourist
walking these sands. I had a friend who lived here. We would
eat pizza and bodysurf in the shallows…

My friend left this world.
He didn’t swim to England, or swim across the sea.

He floats above my everything, as high as the open hazed blue ocean sky.”

Details | Couplet | |


Did He die in vain, leaving no visible trace to remember Him by?
Did He fall into Satan's deceitful trap and let him continue to lie?

We can be victorious as Christ was and become immortal, 
let the evildoers destroy themselves with deeds so immoral!

Did His deviate from the holy path and be easily deceived by false glory,
no, He did not give into the Angel of Darkness, but resisted with hostility. 

We can be victorious as Christ was...truly divine and humble,
let others mock us with their irrationality, we will not tremble!

Did He speak against the tyrants of His day, to be praised for being bright?
No, He did not...but with His whip He cleaned a temple so impure and dark!

We can be victorious as Christ and be part of His prophesied kingdom,
and marked by true modesty and humbleness, we'll lose our humanism!

Did He want to die as an impostor to satisfy the ego of a would-be God?
No, He did not seek glorification without merit and be called the Word! 

We can be victorious as Christ was by denouncing all vanity and wickdeness,
not being crucified on Calvary as He was, but be resurrected as Lazarus was!

Details | Verse | |


oh, this grinding surge
roaring into battle,
how the air is filled
with the sabre rattle;
how the sky is blacked
by fires in their burning,
how the townships sacked
by counter-strikes returning;
how the guns and shells
through the air are streaming,
how the tolling bells
bleed into the screaming;
oh, the fight for land, 
conflicts over chattel,
how the days are spent
in slaughtering the cattle.

Details | I do not know? | |

Heaven or Hell or Earth

The home of god and all good,
Every one thinks its THE best place to be,
Some might think it's the worst place to be.

The home of the devil and all bad,
Every one thinks hell is THE worst place to be,
Some might think it's the greatest place to be.

The home of war, love, and nature.
War is killing violence and blood.
Love if you lucky is great and beautiful,
or could be the killer of most people today.
Nature with storms, hunting, and dyeing.

Details | Elegy | |

Bombay Missiles

From the eyes of Shangri-la and words indited in bulletin
spoken by  bellwethers and imagery on broadcasts
Felt the passing of breaths and federation menace.

The scourge abided by cause of hooliganism
By a group of libertine, 
Held, ye plot to an affright baker’s dozen bams.
He who fended collared gravely, and he who
Fathered, headed for the hills. 
Passing of breaths and the devour city
Bellowing mother’s cry and bemused father
The helpless baby yet addled with a smile.
The speechless contrarian and the stock market blues
Mongers fall back and the bollywood whodunit. 
Queried world and hastening federations 
The eventual address to make for red alert. 

Staked City and yet another lionize attack
To their day of remembrance on the cause of vandalism
Dawdled to a tetrad later 
Abided by the juvenility of their community
Held, ye plot to an heptad bams.
Office hour rushed shush dead to the world
Aghast citizenry and deplorable family
Her plighting husband to return and son’s oft exacts
Left apart for an unknown time.

Ruled by terrorism, shame upon faith
Around-the-clock yet another hark back
Abided by the army of pure
Held, ye plot to tenner explosions.
Challenges taken were overwhelm 
An arrest bore witness
From the eyes of Shangri-la and words indited in bulletin
spoken by  bellwethers and imagery on broadcasts
Felt the passing of breaths and federation menace.

Details | Free verse | |

It Takes Two {Caricare}

It Takes Two




Tribute To Those Lost
In The Twin Towers
You Are Not Forgotten

Details | Narrative | |


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...

Details | Rhyme | |

The Hospital Trilogy Part Two - Asylum Daze

This joke has worn thin, it’s a membrane of gauze 
which insulates feelings and never gives pause 
to express the frustrations, self hatred and fear 
of existence defined by lung-blood and beer. 
Each day is a nightmare, each night sheer hell 
when I can’t rid myself of the memory and smell 
or the stress and the strain of a pointless day’s toil 
in a cracked sort of twilight that tastes of dead soil. 
Anaesthetized, programmed, my mind running cold, 
fixed smile on my lips that feels centuries old;
through urine and faeces and bile and despair 
I try hard not to tear out what’s left of my hair. 
What a mindless profession I’ve taken to heart
in this war of attrition that rips lives apart;
there’s no wisdom, no succour, no comfort to give, 
no cure for the stricken or chance they will live. 
Brain cells are miasmas of stark atrophy, 
behaviourally slaughtered, wild thoughts roaming free 
through a fairground of broken up structures and dreams 
in a wasteland of dopamine ricochet screams. 
Dazed and confused and disorientated, 
the crippled and aged whose minds have stagnated 
in leather bound skulls housing dull vacant eyes 
as they stumble their way to a thoughtless demise. 
King Solomon, people, don’t live in this place, 
we pretend that he does but it shows on my face;
I’m deluded and burnt-out, a white coated shell 
and if anyone cares here they’ve hidden it well. 
Their time was up years past, they’ve only reliance, 
preserved and half pickled by medical science;
a loved one, a husband, a wife or a friend,
parked up a cul-de-sac, right ‘round the bend.
Yet they’ve lived more than I have, these sad walking dead,
I’m the garbage man mercenary perched at the bed,
I am lifeless, less feeling than they’ll ever be:
if you don’t fool with dead things then don’t fool with me.

Details | Rhyme | |

Oklahoma City, April 19th, 1995

One dark, debase moment of human deceit,
Explodes bloody carnage down into the street.
Wallets and windows fly, smoking and smashed.
Marrow and metal land, mangled and mashed.
Fragments in coffins, sealed soft in this earth.
Prayers pronounce endings too soon after birth.
Witness the mothers, who shriek names and weep,
Then credit the Devil. His hands need no sleep.

Details | Acrostic | |

Angelic Statues

Amidst the shadows of loved ones past, there is something.
Nearer to humankind then we would ever really know.
Great and small works of stone stand watch and quietly sing.
Each one piece of art, a tribute of what heavens bestow,
Light from morning star embraces what the new day will bring.
I have seen the gracious glimmer from above as statues glow.
Carefully they watch, greeting, allowing visitors hearts forego.

Stone is their form, though love and compassion their creation.
Treasure to be found in each different Angel that you will see,
Angels guide, while guarding till the end of times duration.
Trace their feelings, embrace their love, and seek it for thee.
Unknown wonders to many stand quiet, serving salvation.
Everyone can view the power of these in a new found decree.
Sculptures by man, Gods images of faith, they give regeneration.

inspired by contest Angels In Cemeteries

by Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~

not for contest.

Details | Senryu | |

Cities of Refuge

Perpetrators who Commit manslaughter could claim Asylum, if found Innocent after Trial. This was the case in Ancient kingdoms like Israel, Judah And others. They came to be Cities of Refuge

Details | Didactic | |


i was on a island one day i thought i was all alone their and as i sat their with a knife to my wrist contemplating suicide i heard a voice call out to me from the distance and as the voice got closer it was a man and he told me to put the knife down and go with him and some others on a ship to another land where their is a lot of people and where i would never be alone again. 

                                     BY TINY MINGS

Details | Rhyme | |

For Pakistan

There was once a time,
When people had a peaceful life,
No terror,
No suffering,
No innocent deaths that multiplied,
No disruption in the once quiet streets,
There was such a thing called 'peace',
Then there was none of this greed,
People were free,
They had a harmonious life,
Were promised to go out,
And come back alive.

But now,
Many return as a corpse,
How can the ones responsible for this not feel any remorse?
How can they treat their people as if they don't matter?
Why is it so many lives they shatter?
Why are they destroying their home?
Where has the decency gone?

This country,
These cities,
Gave them a start to a whole new life,
A positive beginning,
A reason to strive,
So why is it some are ruining so many lives?
What would the founder of this nation say if he was alive?
Even though this isn't my birthplace,
It still brings tears to my eyes...

Details | Rhyme | |

Stranger at Halloween

On this Halloween night
A stranger came to my home
My parents invited him in
From his cold nightly roam
I hear them talking
As he comes every year
My father distraught
My mother in tears
He stays for a while
As they chat away
Sometimes they laugh
But, mostly it's grey
Its hours later
As i hear the front door
This stranger has gone
Just like the years before
I'm older now
And as curious as can be
As i follow the stranger
Down a dark local alley
In the distance i see him
To the cemetery he heads
This night of all nights
To the place of the dead
Brave as i am
To follow him there
Its as far as i go
From a distance I'll stare
He disappears
Into the mist
As i head off home
My question is wished
Mum and dad
Who was that man
He comes every year
For a chat and a dram
Son, the man who left
Died so long ago
During World War II
At Scapa Flow
He can never rest
For his soul is forsaken
The loss of his colleagues
In the war were taken
On October 14
The crew of his ship
In torpedo assign
A German U-Boat 
The U47
Delivered it's load
And sent them to heaven
He's a lost lonely soul
Who stayed in this house
For he always returns
To his loving young spouse
That's the story
On this Halloween eve
Of this tragic young man
And his roaming grieve

Details | Rhyme | |

The Spartans

Spartans trained their children for war,
They practiced all day until they were worn,
Their typical meal was black broth and pork,
It gave them energy for the dangerous war.
Spartan girls were trained for sports,
The ephors, made laws that were enforced,
Spartan women were freer than others,
And were trained to be loyal mothers.
Spartans controlled the Helots for 250 years,
Of course the Spartans had nothing to fear,
Throughout the war many people died,
This is how the Spartans lived their lives.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Awakening - Act 2

All around us is quiet
No sign of these honeycombed beings
But all around me I see
Just what my eyes are seeing

People have fallen
Just where they were
Bodies emaciated
In deadened stare

Grey and ashen
These now empty souls
Lie like driftwood
As we quietly patrol

As we near the ocean
It's surface stirs
As they hover above
In engine less purr

We await their next move
Oblivious we are
As we look all around us
Bodies so far

Slowly they encroach
But never fast like before
They appear to be confused
As one crashes to our shore

In the blazing sun
On a heat baked beach
These honeycombed boned beings
Like our dead, so bleached

We approach with caution
As we look all around
Their all falling from flight
Crashing to our grounds

Smashing on impact
They shatter into pieces
Hope in us rises
As their demise increases

As the night falls
We recall their first attack
It was around about midnight
When they came out of the black

Many months have passed
Since that night befell Earth
As our scientists explained
That's made the future worth

As they found the reasons why
These creatures from our depths
Where they actually came from
In their darkness, so adept

How long have they been down there
I doubt we will ever know
But as soon as they were in our light
Their weakness began to show

For them there was a reason
To escape from their dark
We just happened to be in their way
For us humans, we can restart

Details | I do not know? | |

where I live

the place i grew up,
the place i call home,
the place i dont want to be.
but still i am hear
where theres lots to fear
and people just dont know me.
im 15 years old
and i know to much
about what goes on around me,
theres drug and crime
and young people dieing 
and thing i never dreamt i would see.

you think thing wont happen to you,
that your shelterd from the world
but it all becomes to real 
when some one you loves gets killed!

Details | Couplet | |

There were Nine

I recall upon hearing, of a town not far from here From what I've been told, nobody enters because of fear For this town has something darker, darker than known before Nine crows in torment flight, await to deliver sore Being picked upon was a common site, safe, no one was Nobody could fathom why, was it simply just because The day that it came to light, a darkness descended down With a swiftness never witnessed, darkened a living town Under their winged shadows, became people in deathly fall It's as if their looking for someone special, hungered is their thrall For days they dived, swooped again, soaring to their skies This nine in tormented flight, just who can they despise The days and weeks that passed, the town recalls that fateful day Their Church now apparently empty, no more their light displayed . 09/08/2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Tha Last Battle The Battle Of Armaggedon


This world and all
 of it's confusion.
Shall one day reach a
 dramatic conclusion.

All of the wars and battles shall end.
That day our Messiah returns
 to earth again.

So much has clearly been said and written.
Concerning the final battle 
called Armageddon.

Have you been paying attention
 to the latest news.
Concerning the country of 
Israel and the Jews?

Israel will be alone that dreadful day.
All of the Jews will bow 
their heads to pray.

All at once... They'll look
 up into the sky!
Behold!  Their messiah 
returns from on high!

On a white horse...  Jesus and his 
army shall prevail.
All of man's weapons will be 
destroyed and fail.

He shall reveal himself, along 
with his pierced hands.
And will reign triumphant
 throughout the lands.

He shall rule and reign for 1000 years.
There'll be peace and ;joy. 
 No more tears.

Will you be with him when he returns?
Or here on earth... as this world burns?

Heaven or hell.  Which will be
 your home?
The choice is yours.  And yours alone...

By JIm Pemberton  03/10/09

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Distant horns are blowing

The distant horns are blowing, hooves are pounding
Deep in the heart of the woods a clearing ringed by ancient Oaks
Rays of sun filtered languidly through the trees
The quiet of the sanctuary , a familiar soothing sound
Evening arrived with a hint of cooking 
drifting from the kitchens of the grand house

The crescent of the moon cast her siver light upon the water
The scent of her filled his nostrils, sweet and wholesome
Singing a lullaby,her voice soft and sweet
She ruffled the strings of the harp
A moments silence, while all held their breath, 
Then her voice began again,strong and melodious

After feasting,the noise died down,
Jugglers and acrobats appeared
Singing tales of quests and unyielding triumph.
The candlelight catching the sheen of their brows
A team tried,tested and never found wanting

A beautiful valley, Lords and Ladies dressed in
Red linen and golden silks bowing majestically
The fire flickered and blue flames danced above
The Chalice , a log fell in a shower of sparks

Masts bending and creaking with the bulging sails
Catching the sunlight before disappearing behind 
glittering green waves
A bird bejewelled with feathers of the rainbow
Grey waves curling to meet them deep in the silence of the ocean

Details | Rhyme | |

Metal Bodies and Shiny Knives

What did they think
When they stood on their shores
This ship of anew
Never seen before

Made of wood
Just like their own
But who are these people 
To come to our homes

On our beach they land
Metal clad
Carrying shining knives
With a look of mad

On our shores we meet
Face to face
Unknown to us then
What our future would grace

They are not here long
As their madness shows
Drinking, incoherent
Striking blows

Weeks pass 
As they increase their pain
Our women beaten and raped
For their pleasurable gain

The following morning
We are manacled and chained
Our village burned
Blows down on us rain

To their boat we are taken
Thrown into the dark
Infested with rats
Sodden, stark

The sound of our breakers
Grow quiet and distant
As I fear for my people
We are now nonexistent

Details | Tetractys | |

My Dear Friend You Are Not Forgotten

dear friend
today I
received letter
from your mom and dad
stated that killed while serving
seems like only yesterday
were cruising on our 4 wheelers
I shall honor thy name displaying
flag and medal of valor on mantel

Tribute To Dear Friends
And To Our Troops

Details | Narrative | |


Who could forget what happened on that unsuspecting and sunny day,
when no visible clouds drifted over the Twin Towers?
Little after midnight, the cool rain adds to the melancholy 
of the descending angels; and I join them in prayer to remember the tragedy! 
This should be a day of remembrance, not of hatred for the ignoble acts 
the wicked committed, but would God accept unkindness instead of merciful deeds?

They called it another day of infamy,
and like Pearl Harbor we were taken by surprise;
that was an attack aimed at the military,
but on September 11 the terrorists attacked the civilians!
It seemed like lightning striking down sturdy trees,
and then fire broke out with smoke trails of a thousands feet;
" O my God! ", every employee screamed...quickly running down 
the stairs engulfed by fire...causing an indescribable chaos everywhere! 
" Take my hand, I will lead you to safety! " the firefighter said to the coughing woman. 
" Hold onto my arm! " the policeman yelled out to the frail man,
who had dropped his eyeglasses and couldn't see! 
Every firefighter and policeman acted like them, rescuing many without fearing death;
and hundreds of them, that awful morning, never returned home alive...
what a tragedy for their families that watched in horror and couldn't help!

Who wouldn't remember the courage of their noble and willing hearts?
And furthermore, who wouldn't engrave their valorous names on plaques and monuments?
Up above, by the gates of Paradise...Christ and His Father awaited them to accept their souls;
while archangels surrounding God's throne, sung hymns that humans couldn't sing...
those hymns that all the earthly heroes will sing with them when Heaven mourns again! 

Their portraits, pictures and memorabilia hang above the fireplaces,
and on the decorated walls of the victims' homes, precincts and firehouses;
how could anybody take them down as they were worthless items?
Prize them more than gold or diamonds, o friends grieving that tremendous loss even today;
don't hate those who caused you sorrow and unbearable pain, be forgiving and show mercy...
as God does toward us; o friends remember your heroes for their valor and sacrifice!  

My poem is dedicated to the victims and survivors of the September 11 attacks on America.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Ballade | |

No Thining Back

alone at last with no masks no faces spying on me

alone with my past my merry mirror 

all the corners my once quick hands, have turned to spiders 

cautiously they advance cross the lined face,

reacting to disguises 

staring back with their same tremors, my hands, cautious, 

advance ac ross face feeling at mirrors. 

With these same tremulous hands that can scarcely hold glass 

I was 17 years old and my heart was hot and alive 

i discovered poetry and i swore to longing. 

I was afraid fist time i felt threatened 

and began to protect myself from the sting of hail. 

why do you insist on showing me, 

day after day, these sockets that used to be my eyes? 

i see below the twin ridge, too high rise of bone,

the bridge of my nose and suddenly into a lake 

the lake is my eye, it sucks under, and i traverse your skin 

to embrace the lake as little girl who still resides in me 

i embrace inside me. 

everything is summed up in one magic instant.
Zara Elizabeth Lane
Copyright ©2007 Zara Elizabeth Lane

Details | Quatrain | |


Thunderstorms are fierce,
bringing devastation to Nature and humans;
and such are the Monsoon rains of all seasons:
a reminder of India's tragedies.

Torrents from clouds form wild rivers,
and everything is subdued by their force,
it brings to mind the Biblical Deluge
when only a faithful family found refuge.

Where houses, squares, churches and trees once stood,
now there are floods drifting people and animals... 
struggling to keep their heads above water;
many will experience horrible deaths without finding a road.

After they pass over the devastated region,
they will go the the next destination to cause more death
and incite survivors with ire and desperation...
then is God responsible, or is it Man who has no respect?

Details | Rhyme | |

No Color or Relgion, Ever Stopped a Bullet from a Gun

I heard on the news
Another two are lost
That makes 206
Is there, a whatever the cost
We are there to assist
A country so reft
Inner fighting
To help the rest of the left
Guerrilla warfare
Tactically strong
Thousands of miles
Where we don't belong
The people we vote in
Would they go in their place
To show their people
Dying is no disgrace
I will never allow
My children to fight
A war so improper
A conflict not right
To show our presence
As we parade their land
A remote explosion
Blown up on demand
How can we serve
A regime so unfair
They can starve their women
Because he can't have her there
To fight for their freedom
As they fight themselves
The decision should be made
To save ourselves
The Russians failed
So now we try
Coalition troops
In daily die
The modern wars
Will always be run
No color or religion
Ever stopped a bullet from a gun

Details | Quatrain | |

Blackhawk Dawn

In rugged mountains of beige
A mission has been set
To rid a faction of rebels
Where conflict will be met

To return a country to good
Dispose of the unwanted
For the feud to conclude

Near the Helmand River valley
A major offensive is set
U.S. Marine push
Juniors and Vets

Its not even daylight
As i radio them in
Colleagues of three
Hereford's unique fighting men

In our covered position
The Taliban are sighted
Car bombings, slaughter
Rotor blades we invited

A distant sound
Of birds of war
Bringing Marines
Bullets, hard gore

From the valley rises
Western army brawn
In formation flight
Blackhawk Dawn

Details | Ottava rima | |


Suddenly everybody was awaken by the strong tremors
of the early April's earthquake...walls falling all around them,
dust suffocating them as they ran out to the debris-covered streets;
with no slippers and shoes on their cold feet;
people of all ages with their robes and pajamas on...screaming,
running scared with horror-stricken faces, not wanting
to be buried alive and actually die in the rubble!  

L'aquila, the mighty, has crumbled into the dust,
and by the dauntless spirit of its people, it must be rebuilt:
as it arose from destruction and returned to dazzle;
the earthquakes that preceded were unpredictable,
but this one was announced by a concerned scientist, 
who warned of the disaster, but authorities ridiculed him and didn't heed
the warning, but rather called him an imbecile!
O L'aquila, unless your bells hadn't rung, not everyone could have been told!  

This medieval town of L'Aquila was besieged by armies,
but they never conquered it and its invincibility angered its enemies;  
now, it is crumbling, shaken by the fury of the inclement Nature;
devastation is seen everywhere: churches with a toppled bell tower
or cupola...castles and historic buildings heavily damaged;
corpses strewn along the dusty streets...people searching for survivors:
digging with their bare hands to save lives, and some are found alive! 
O L'Aquila, highest eagle on this devastated hill, see all the tears shed!  

A dog, limping and bleeding, seems lost among dusty stones and faces not so recognizable,
is he looking for his owner;  and over two-hundred fifty bodies not yet excavated...
how can he find him? By Heaven's mercy, someone lead him to the piles of rubble,
to let him sniff in the spot where he is buried...hoping he'll be alive, not dead!
And why should everyone despair?...Isn't life worthier than those lost art treasures?
L'Aquila, the mighty, has crumbled into the dust and light is erased from the taciturn sky;
I weep like others, and my lamentation echoes in the doomed valley when peace was audible!
O L'aquila, more glory awaits you: arise from the ruins and your greatness won't fade away!

This poem is dedicated to the unfortunate people of L'aquila and those of the surrounding
villages that were devastated by the earthquake of early April.   

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | I do not know? | |

The story of Louise de Lorraine

The gardens of Chenonceau look so beautiful and bright
But I prefer to keep them out of sight
As I mourn in this room of black and white
I sit tight and wait for my love
He gave me his word and that is enough
However, my heart knows the truth and it is breaking

But I still spend every waking hour
Hoping he’ll come by
I don’t know how many days, years or months have past
But the air in here is starting to turn sour
Hopefully soon I will die
For I have cried a million tears
I speak not a word to anyone
And if people should speak to me, I do not hear
For their words fall upon death ears

I cover my walls with symbols of death
For it seems like that’s the only thing in my life that’s left
I pray every day
That God will see it my way
And end my stay on this earth
Because a life without my husband is not worth living for
Please God, when the time comes open that door
For I wouldn’t want anything more
But until that day, I will stay
And I will wait

Details | Free verse | |

Spreading the dream

Million dollar fireworks light up 
the eastern sky

leaving red tracers between broken homes
and marking the rank of ordered followers

blackened by the smoke of oil money
and a dream deferred
in the cradle of life 

Details | Dramatic monologue | |






Details | Blank verse | |

The great question

There is a place where life and love cease. Do we see this place? Can we touch it, feel it, taste it? Is it tangible? Does it matter?

Details | I do not know? | |

passage 37

it is the passage 37
when my age will show
and it is time to pray to heaven

Reveal the truth
admit mortal flaws
confess my thousand wrong
kneel down on my two paws

Mother,by my side
revelations that I will not hide
I have committed many lies that has been said
It hurts the soul to cry and ask:

40 is around the pike
recollecting the deeds that I never did like
sweethearts of the old and the young
but HERE I AM,alone..with such verses yet to be sung

The Pied Piper led many MOUSEcreants homeward
Still playing that flute that still can be heard
As for me,I sit here typing..
a lonely pauper,an advancing nerd


I end this poem


Details | Sonnet | |


Through the graceful cones of your loud speakers,
Prayers go out to Alla al Akhbar.
And like a flag waving in a prophetic breeze,
You are a blindfolded hostage weeping on your knees.
In your fair root neighborhood of Shudada,
Stryker vehicles crackle past your ancient walls,
As tanks smash through deserted homes. 
And the endless stockpiles of artillery shells,		     
The mortar rounds, rocket-propelled grenades, 
Electronics for making bombs, were simply small caches,
Left by nomadic insurgents, cells long slipped away.
But you, sweet holy city of Falluja, you will live on,
For when the foreign snipers on your roofs are gone,
You will live on as the city of mosques, city of graves.

Details | Fibonacci | |

The Babies Don't Cry

Then none
Flint River
Thrown from bridge two small
Babies sister brother drowned
Every time go by I hear the children cry call me
Mother experienced temporary insanity threw them from bridge to swift water

Details | Sijo | |


I wake to the sound of red alarms and harsh blue whistles,
Perhaps this is just a false occurrence, it sounds always these days,
The notion is struck down, this world is full of violence.

Details | Rhyme | |

Generations of Valor

          They stand together
          Soldiers young and old
          As we sit down beside them
          Their stories unfold

Tell me son
What happened to you
Please take your time
I wish to hear you through

    I was out on patrol
    Looking for improvised devices
    Their made of plastic now
    For modern sacrifices

    But this one was different
    It was set on remote
    Triggered at distance
    As the enemy gloat

    Catapulted, bleeding
    As i land on the sand
    My face lacerated
    As are my hands

    My left hand has gone
    As are my eyes
    My emotions are drained
    I can no longer cry

    I am flown home
    To Edwards Air Base
    Not the way i left
    A new tomorrow i face

My brave young son
I shall cry for you
Yes tomorrow is new
But we will see it through

    As he wipes his tears
    His son says to his father
    Tell me your story again
    So my thoughts again gather

Well it was so long ago
And although i am old
The horrors of wars
Should always be told

It was the 6th of June
The day the war had turned
And what we fought for

I was one of thousands
As we hit the beaches
Under heavy fire
Bodies bleeding, bodies bleached

After being pinned down for hours
We finally made a breakthrough
Their lines broken
Our determination pursued

Our objective, Bayeux
To cut off the road to Caen
Re-assemble and group
As we mean to go on

We were on the outskirts
As a 109E attacked
My platoon was strafed
As its bullets impact

I was hit three times
In my legs and chest
Shipped back home
Asking why i was blessed

After the war
In the Army i stayed
As an injury councillor
For other wars have been played

          Father and son stood together
          Hugged for tomorrow
          Yes, there will be more wars
          And what they bring is sorrow

Details | Rhyme | |

Rwanda Wrongs

In 1957, there existed a plan
To rid Rwanda of the Tutsi clan
Power they had, too much for one side
The foundation for, future Genocide
1960, the monarchy was gone
Will both sides sing the same song
Sadly not as the persecutions start
Ripping this African country apart
1973, under a new regime
Juvénal Habyarimana promised restrain
Progress and reconciliation proposed to be
For this country to unite, finally
1994, Habyarimana gunned down
His assassination, country drowns
This killing of him, the carnage starts
Population half, ripped apart
The killings horrific, no one spared
Machete slain, heads caved
Hacking, be-headings as families fall
As CNN tune in, the world appalled
The continuance, of the slaughtered tribes
Men, women and children you can't describe
Women raped, and the unborn slain
This horrific act of human pain
Most of the fallen, in their own villages dead
By another clan, they thought were friends
Indescribable to the world as our televisions show
The massacre of innocents, as we watch blow by blow
Where does it all end, can we try the same songs
How many more of these Rwanda wrongs
It appears to be a human trait
To kill each other for the sake of it

Details | I do not know? | |

RB Ghetto

Yes, I am a Native.
See my brown skin, my dark hair.
Come walk through my reserve,
Learn the truth, if you dare.
See this house,
This nice, big one right here?
Here an abused child sits alone,
Afraid to even  shed a tear.
Shall we continue our walk?
See that house, with the bright light?
Here a young boy watches his mother drink,
Waiting for her to start a fight.
Stop...Hear that noise in the woods?
Oh, it's just some kids smoking a joint.
Have you had enough truth yet?
Have you even begun to get the point?
Remember that lonely, abused child,
The little one so full of fear?
Well now he beats his kids and wife,
Then he celebrates with a beer.
And the young boy with his drunk mother
Now sits alone, wishing he would die.
As he punches hole into his wall
He wonders, would his mother even cry?
What about those little pothead kids?
Most of their lives are wrecks:
Jabbing needles into their arms, 
Spending all of their welfare cheques. 
We've come to the end of our tour.
You see, life on the rez isn't that great.
The people here no longer feel love,
Our home has become a land of hate. 

Details | Rhyme | |


It was April 20th of 99
That’s when they would commit their crime
The boys had entered the school that day
Ready to kill anyone who got in their way
Thirteen people lost their life
Then they took theirs without strife.

Details | Rhyme | |

Mass Execution

The Dakota Wars
Took their toll
Native Indians
Out of control
Five settlers were killed
Is what started it all
Little Crow declared
More would fall
This all happened
Many years ago
As the history books
And the records show
August 16th
Treaty payments arrived
Truly due
But the fighting had started
Like i stated above
Settlers and Indians
There was rarely love
August 18th
Little Crow on the warpath
Tensions grew
The Battle of Redwood Ferry
24 soldiers killed
Dakota war parties continued
How could relations build
At the battle of Wood Lake
The Dakota surrendered
269, quite a crew
In Mid December
The trials were set
330 convicted
Their fate to be met
Lincoln commuted 
Most of the above
Leaving 39 
For the deathly shove
One was reprieved
Leaving 38
Execution date
December 26th
In Mankato, Minnesota
The 38 flew
To be with their ancestors
Fly on the wind
Chant with their spirits
In plea to rescind
The above date
Histories numeration
Is written as America's
Largest mass execution 
And the Civil War
Two tragic tolls
Above the Dakota Wars

Details | Ballad | |


unjuggled passionate fact
live for what life is' too u
washin tide blaskin tie cason lie
I wuluck the bare thought of astanished
In  a place noted black
a nagnan ture color
my face norct in flack
A house pertained in dark narshaw
I live
A room spiting tental whispering deaths ceepction
All halls triped with noise

Details | Free verse | |

Ode To Marla Ruzicka

Died in Baghdad, April 17, 2005

Nothing can stop her!
Not a  rocket
or an improvised
explosive devise
in spite 
of her untimely
Just 28
and amongst 
the Greats.
Unyeilding campaigner
with unwavering faith
in something greater
than all the grenades
in the U.S. arsenal.
The greatness of love
of truth
eloquently spoken
by this petite woman.
Yet, a Goliath
in humans.
Her work
the simple act
of counting victims.
and compansate.

Marla dared 
to ask
who were 
the 100,000 plus
innocent civilians
that have died
in Iraq.
The sisters, brothers
fathers, mothers
caught in the crossfire.
They had names
faces and dreams.

We sing to you
dear Marla.
There is nothing higher
than the acknowledgment
of life
and the strife
the grieving
the loss
the pain. 
Marla sweet angel
your work
the most dignified
the most humane
of endeavors
in this
insane world.
And no one 
not the president
and his mongers
not the apologist of war
can ever
take that away.

Dean Walker

Marla was the young founder of the nonprofit organization Campaign for innocent Victims in Conflict. To learn more about Marla or show your support visit her website at

Details | Bio | |


Waves of despair
Wash over me
My life
A series of mistakes
And I wish
I could correct 
these things,
No matter 
how long it takes

I should have died
In my old home
The place I long to be
But it's not there,
As anyone can see

I'm stuck in a world
With little reason
Why I should want
to survive,
And sadly, I await
The day I'm no longer

My home lives on
In my mind,
And all the wonder
It did provide
And when I'm gone
It will echo no more
And all the tears I cried

I walk those halls
That exist no more
I cry in rooms long gone
And await the patter
Of the rain
That fell above my bed
But they're gone
Long gone,
Like last week's wave
I'm left to carry on

But why?
Who cares?
It's sentimental crap,
And it means nothing to you
But maybe someday
You'll taste despair
And you'll have a clue

Details | Free verse | |

Little Soul

There is a heaven
 There is a hell
 There is the black void
Dear Heaven,
 I am a good little soul
 I've done good things
 I've done nothing wrong
 Why are you sending me away?
Dear Hell,
 I guess I'm a good little soul gone bad
 Heaven sent me away
 Can I stay here?
 Okay I guess I'm not wanted here
Dear Black Void,
 Heaven and Hell didn't want me
 Thank you for not judging me
 I see you've taken many wandering souls in
 I'm going to make myself known
I am a little soul
 That's who I am
 Heaven and Hell can't change me.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Martian Cylinders

Through the telescope
We view the planet Mars
Explosions aplenty
Leaving planetary scars

Two nights pass
As comets appear
All over the world
Do we panic or fear

The very next morning
Cylinders are found
Metallic and shiny
Making a humming sound

An unscrewing grind
These cylinders emit
As the public witness
In staring commit

Slowly rises
A staring eye
Emerald green
Us it spies

As we approach
It climbs so high
Staring back at us
In a shrill like cry

Oooolaa is heard
Many times
As we stand back and watch
In it's perfect rhyme

We approach again
As it's emerald eye lights
A ray is released
We all start to take flight

Over the common we run
As fast as we can
With laser traces
Extinguishing man

Days pass
As more cylinders land
But these newly fallen
Are bigger and grand

In tripod stance
They roam our lands
Lasers in rampant
As our armies stand

What weapons we have
Are vapourised to dust
As a red weed engulfs
In a thickly disgust
Beaten and trodden
Against these machines
Will the spirit of man
Endure this hell Halloween

We who are left
Are driven underground
To escape their lasers
And their oooolaa sound

Many weeks pass
As our cities are scarred
But the blooming red mass
Is blackening tarred

Tripods are toppling
In crying moan
Their sound as they fire
Is in deathly groan

Metallic corpses
Of cylinder shape
Lie dented and spent
On broken buildings they drape

Weeks into months
As the scientists learn
These martians from Mars
In our atmosphere turn

Their alien form
Unknown to them
Would never compete
With the life of men

Our oxygen climate
Pure and clean
Was a perfect match
For these cylindrical machines

We will remember these days
This world, our home
As we look to the skies
Knowing we are not alone


Inspired by " The War of the Worlds " movies.

Details | Light Poetry | |

Your Free {Footle}

   not for me

       forced labor
           paid for more

                  chain gang
                        head banged

                                mop floors
                                    dusty headboards

                                                iron shirts
                                                     hem skirts

                                                         raw deal
                                                           cook meals

                                                              don't get paid
                                                                           or get laid

                                                                             piece of meat
                                                                                   alway's gets beat

                                                                                          hide underground
                                                                                                 don't make sound

                                                                                                     free the slaves
                                                                                                         Lincoln did say


 Tribute To Freedom  
And May God Bless The Slaves

Also Enrty For
Sami Al-Khalili's Contest
Small Cage, Big Bird

Details | Rhyme | |

Blood Diamonds

A stone so beautiful
The gem of gems
This carbon icon
A girls best friend
In many a place mined
All legal and right
To be marketable
To be pretty in sight
On our Jewellery do we wonder
Where ours come from
Is this splendid stone
From a war torn wrong
Most are credited
From a reliable source
But when it comes to money
Many mined by force
The Kimberley Process was put in place
To audit diamonds, and to trace
As for the many souls, who lose their lives
What a price to pay, for Blood Diamonds

Details | Light Poetry | |

A Piece Of Work { Footle ]

   Was He

               The Sun

                  Now Gone
                       So Wrong

                                  Thank You
                                           Your's True

Entry For Abe Lopez's 
Native American Ekphrasis Contest

In Loving Memory Of
Tommy Wayne Cannon  T.C. {1946 -1978 }

Details | Free verse | |

Black Crescent Doom

Red and orange heat of doom
Making a black crescent layout
Having the last thing you hear a shout
A shout calling for help
Or a shout of eaking pain
Searching for a breath of air
For smoke comes from this black crescent doom
Making the lungs you rely on, give out
And give up
You have no more air
No more living
Suffocating by this black crescent doom

Details | Blank verse | |


He does not answer when I speak,
     the severed head in the picnic basket,
nor do the swarming flies on the muslin sack,
     buzzing on the dried blood, concern him overmuch.
I still speak to him as ice chunks melt
     about his rotting skull, and he rolls with a soft bump
on the passenger seat.
     “Al, baby, we’re gonna find out what this is all about.
You and me, Al, we’re gonna find out.”
     Mexico shimmers and burns through
dust and dirt, gunfire, filth and murder, and we drive
     the backroads in the hammered paint scarred red car,
backfiring clouds of exhaust, pollutant patches of hell.
     Gunshots echo through my mind,
bodies pirouette in slow motion, tissue quake ensues,
     jetting blood through ripped cloth:
“Why? Because it feels so damn good, that’s why.”
     I never had much to speak of, dreams, a girl and a piano,
now my girl is dead and all I have left
     is a car, a gun and a severed head in a picnic basket.
And in place of dreams, a heart of darkness and
     this impregnable death wish…

Details | Rhyme | |

Destruction Zombies

Anger washes through my blood streams While dancing demons clatter within my dreams Voices are heard with no where to run When loud heat rays reflect from our sun Shadows dancing left and right From demonic eyes deep in the night People screaming and running around High whistles and demonic sounds Children raising from the shallow graves Trying to decipher my foggiest maze No one will listen, no one will talk No one will reach the top or walk the walk How do you listen to deaf sounds? How do you unbury graves within our grounds? Who will answer when you call? Who will pick you up when you begin to fall? Children raising from our crooked tombstones Werewolves howling throughout black moonstones Screams of fright and hungry moans Distant valleys and untold groans Bloody mountains and poisonous snakes Watching in horror as our precious dead wakes The city up in smoke and fires Compacted cars with nothing but tires City of destruction, valley of hate Do I try to run or accept this fate? Everywhere I turn there’s zombies on all sides While the ocean blows up with tsunami tides Creatures forced to race from their homes While faeries and fey collide with giant gnomes Death screams twist and death screams moan I’m completely lost --- there’s no going home The trees they claw at my clothes When will the nightmare stop? Nobody knows…

Details | Cowboy | |

They Came

They came to us slowly 
          in ones and twos at first. 
They were men with good hearts 
and lived with earth as one; 
Lived as we live, one with the four legged, 
two legged – all the spirits of our world 

They brought many things to trade; 
knives of iron, that our women treasure, 
Thunder sticks that kill from 
further that an arrow can fly. 

They brought cloth of bright colors 
that our women sew into clothes for us. 
They brought sugar and tea to change 
our diet of buffalo and berries 

Then more came.   
They came with bad hearts. 

They brought firewater. 
Our minds were as dizzy as our steps 
and the earth danced before our eyes. 

The black robes came and gave us their religion. 
Strange since they do not practice his teachings. 

They brought the spotted sickness 
that kills our people. 
They came and killed the buffalo 
and left the bodies to rot on the earth. 

They came like a swarm of insects, 
devouring everything in their path. 
They came and took our land 
and gave us heartbreak. 

The sacred hoop is broken 
And I cannot go home… 

Copyright 2002

Details | I do not know? | |

Yet Another Anniversary

Anniversary of fatal attacks,
  thought of it stops me in my tracks.
People dying,
  families crying.
Shocked the entire country,
  scared nearly everybody.
He's to blame,
  what a shame!
Weapons of mass destruction?
  Yeah, more like government corruption.
Have I forgotten?
  No, Darryl, I never will, who could?
However, fighting and war is not the answer;
  killing brings no one back, even worse, there are even more who don't come back.
The Twin Towers toppled and crumbled;
  now our country is all jumbled.

Details | Cowboy | |

Rodeo Blues

Riding against the wind, merciless memories nipping at her heels
wearing a Pollyanna mask & a ready laugh to hide the hurt she feels
The stinging words she heard that day hammer her heart like driving rain
she sips thunder & lightning from a bottle  but she can’t escape the pain

Rodeo has held her in its spell for all of her nineteen years
Its taught her to make friends with danger & never shrink from fear
Gave her a healthy respect for a life well lived & showed her its rewards
She’s better off for the lessons learned in the back chutes & stockyards

She thought she was well prepared for any hand that Rodeo dealt
Until that fateful phone call, a worse pain she’s never felt
She’d given her heart to a wild Bullrider, a good man through & through
Family, friend or stranger, he gave the best to all he knew

Around midnight the night before, he’d left for an exhibition ride
one last promise to fulfill before starting a new life with his bride
she’d spoke to him early that morning, a quick “I love you” & “Good Luck”
By quarter past ten he was in the chute, shouting “throw the gate & let ‘em buck”

Three jumps & a crazy eight twist, the rigging split with a sickening snap
In seconds his life ended, silence roared through the arena like a thunderclap
The phone was ringing back in Tucson as she pulled up to the house
The caller spoke in monotone igniting a fire never to be doused

She still love’s the Rodeo, still answer its bittersweet call
and she keeps his rigging bag in the closet down the hall
She grew up quick in an eight second flash & paid her Rodeo dues
Now she’s riding hard against the wind & singing the Rodeo Blues

(c) August 2003

Details | Rhyme | |

Hero's return in Armada Mass

June 6th 1944
An Armada masses at Europe's door
Five sector landings, 160,000 troops
On the following beaches, our hero's would swoop
Utah, Omaha, Juno, Sword and Gold
Allow me to write, as my story unfolds
We, 50th Northumbrian Infantry
To repatriate Europe's lost countries
The Devonshire, Hampshire regiments but two
The Allied might in this incredible feud
Beach landing storm, between Le Hamel - Ver sur Mer
Sectors Item, Jig and King
Is where the 79th Armoured would sing
Beachhead established, Mulberry harbour plan
Reaching Bayeux, cut the road to Caen
East we will go, meet with the Canadian troops
Juno Beach they landed in their infantry groups
King sector assault, casualties high
Our tanks now landed, their shells fly
Enemy positions pounded
Men of both die
Jig sector assault, Le Hamel fell
Village by village, only time will tell
Creully and Crepon reached and taken
Item sector, commando strong
Harbour to take, enemy thrawn
Important target, supplies to land
Eventual demise of this German stand
From this landing, our masses advanced
Through deadened lands, i never glanced
To absorb the sights that i witnessed there
To look ahead, no stop no stare
As i sit at home and close my eyes
Not knowing whether to despise
Being in the middle of carnage hell
Our Hero's fell, but I'm here to tell
   " Dedicated to Stanley Elton Hollis - the one and only recipient 
of the Victoria Cross on D-Day June 6th 1944, but they are all hero's "


Details | Verse | |

Madman Chronicles

Staggered by the virus burning through the city veins,
Stop motion, speeded up, the slam of distant trains,
Rattled through the concrete as forgotten people die,
Howling jets of power chords go crashing through the sky.
The cardboard jungle stretches out along the seamy streets,
Where grimy flesh of down and outs use newspapers for sheets
And sleep with crazy fetishes that slice and dice the skull,
Narcosis bred by pills and soup make all the senses dull.
The rail-yard cauldron simmering with cabbages and rats,
Skin and fur of vermin bleeding protein in the vats,
It tastes of pulped up sewer waste distilled by Mr Hyde,
The methylated spirits put some flavour back inside.
Leaned up against the siding now corroded through with rust,
The corrugated blackened bones of asbestos and dust,  
Insanity, reality, all sympathy gone up in flames,
Lunacy screams at the moon and calls the symptoms names.
Down here it doesn’t matter what the poets choose to write,
The road to hell is paved with good intentions every night,
The only thing that means a damn is death will set us free 
Of all the madman chronicles of sociology. 

Details | Rhyme | |

His Head Bowed

Warrior of battle
A leader of men
Triumphant in victory
In his Highland glens

His followers unite
In battle ready clans
Willing to die
As they fight for their lands

Burns run red
As thatched crofts burn 
To lead ones clan
Is birthed and earned

Lowlanders, fellow Highlanders
In claymore cull
From John O' Groats
To the Isle of Mull

Many campaigns
In week long march
To leave your enemies
Their communities torched

Warrior of Highlanders
Bloodied hands steeped in
His head bowed
To the fallen and beaten

Details | Rhyme | |

The Fall of the Black Angels

This last few years
Had seen fighting so coarse
Having vowed never to fight
Viewing histories remorse
The black angels of angst
Went back on their word
The earth for themselves
It's what they preferred
No explanation
No discussions met
Their war on the innocents
In their mind was set
Attacks they launched
No one was spared
Children slaughtered
They did not care
Weeks and months
Passed like days
Earth to be lost
In their deathly plays
A time traveller
From the past was called
Semaj to the Galaxy
His past exploits recalled
He was the one
Who downed Racolyn
The Butterfly winged Elf
Never to be seen again
The Parliament of Federation
His presence requested
The read of his past
Again to be tested
In hangers were gathered
Angels in flocks
Like squadrons of light
Beside their space ships docked
Loaded on board
The water of life
In missile form
To rid the black strife
Orders given
The space ships depart
To save natures earth
Again to restart
Co-ordinates entered
Black angels located
The water of life
Divine of the created
All weapons are primed
Loaded to demise
Ignore the crying
For the blackened dying
Hours and days
As the white angels fought
With Semaj leading
In heraldic taught
Black angels retreating 
Their fight fading to light
The last of them captured
Earths Parliament in delight
We thank Semaj
And Etto his droid
Another scar for this planet
In possible avoid
The war of the angels
Had come to an end
White versus black
In victorious mend
On this planet earth
In it's year 2338
White angels are predominant
Nature's soul mate

Details | Rhyme | |

Red Red Rain

The still waters of the swampland smell like death and feel like fear.
Dangling moss whips through the wind as darkness nears.
The sun fades and the moon appears.
Mirrors reflect the otherside, the call, the ritual, and the cries.
Shelter is formed for the wandering souls.
Faint music fades through the red, red, rain.
Nightmares reflect awful pain.
Realities fall with the red, red, rain.
Danger unfolds and mystery remains.
Doors swing open decades of truth.
Practice of darkness in pursuit.
In the fall of the red, red, rain.
Laughter unlocks the secret again.
Chemistry reveals a code to explode.
Imaginations disconnect and identity unfolds.
The spirit world glides isolation to cold, with the parted soul,
that runs through the red, red, rain.
Orbits the swampland in the call of the wild.
On this great journey mile after mile.

Details | Narrative | |

The Graveyard

The wind seemed colder that December day,
as I walked among the graves marked with
marble so gray.
Some had a story carved for all to see,
while others were just marked, Rest In 
Pictures of the deceased, were on a few,
as I looked a little closer,
to see how many I knew.
Then in the distance, 
I saw a crowd,
another loved one to be buried,
then my head I bowed.
Old graves stood out,
their markers so tall,
darker than most,
like shadows at nightfall.
Sad to think, some had to die so young,
but way back then, not much could be done.
Strange it may seem,
to visit the dead,
but facinating to me,
on the life they led.

Details | I do not know? | |

Street Chivalry (Part 2)

Shaken hand and pistol glimmer in the moonlight.

Forgive me God, for I am not right.

Cocked, locked, and loaded, I try to thrive.

I must have what you hold, I need to survive.

A genuine cop killer I hold.

Broken dreams drive me to be cold.

Through my eyes, you can read like a book.

The pain of the life I shouldn't of took

In this world, this scene is routine.

My life is the shattered American dream.

Somewhat like brothers are you and I.

For it is on these streets we are dyeing, trying to survive.

Who could dream a life like this?

This dream of a perpetual glitch.

Sadly, this is how we endure.

You must fight back, against this city with no cure.

Despite this common bond we share.

It is from those hands, your money I must tear.

And it is here we are no longer brothers.

On these streets we kill one another.

Details | Free verse | |

Holy War

   Sorrow soars on the celestial sphere
On wings of silver birds
Distraught are the comforts of many
Given to pleasure of the prophet of man 
Armed with the gospel of Allah.
   A gesture to the flying protector of the Holy Land
A powerful hand to coerce collapse
This message of greater value
Has been returned unto you 
A cavernous exile.
   Gods collide 
To the messenger gives doctrine
One shall command annihilation of many
A clash of faith, departed
The innocents.
   Unto Israel your anger flows
Yet the Eagle fly’s near, watching
To the Heavens you seek for knowledge 
Interpretations defined
The proclamation of war indefinite.
   Deceptions in patience arise
One God’s fury strikes
Fear translates into understanding 
Bolts of heightened steel take flight
To bring to not, the Eagles castle.
   Souls of vacant bodies speak
A new army for the war
Upon the Mount of Olives they stand
Waiting for the messenger of Allah
To oppose the will of YHWH.	
   And the Eagles wings held flight
Screeching down upon the messenger; punishment
This Holy Land remains the dream
Immortal direction subsided
Israel stands keeper of the gate
Holy war.

Details | Rhyme | |

The World we Live in

The World we Live in
As from the window i look out
Killings and maiming
Can they all be devout

What religion, has the right to say
Who lives or dies's on any given day
Whether Islamic or Hindu, Catholic or Christian
If there are these Gods, they sure ain't listening

This World we Live in
Has seen horror's aplenty
From alleged leaders, not quite so saintly.
As they led their killers, to rape and pillage
In many countries, and many a village

Leaders like Hitler, Pol Pot & Stalin
Order their Generals, don't pity the fallen
Murderous rages, in cities and towns
Women and children, the elderly mown down

What do we see in our public life
Similar scenes, but not so rife
From Columbine, Dunblane & Hungerford past
Will there be enough of us left, for us humans to last

As i look out my window, what us humans should see
Is The World we Live in, and live violence free
Who has the right, to slay a neighbour or friend
Simple sanity, or plain round the bend

I really don't know how to resolve the above
Man's inhumanity, and turn it to love
The journey of change, has taken a turn
Due to the appointment of Obama, where we will all learn

The explosion of vote, for the new President above
Is what the world needed, to give it a shove
Out of all the people i would most like to meet
This guy heads the list, shake his hand as we greet

And what i mean, from these words above
He has the Aura to turn, loose the white doves
With the help of the leaders, who think the same way
Will make this World safer, for Generations one day

So in the future as i read this again
There will be much compassion, and a lot less pain
The World we all Live in, will work rest and play
Generations living, as they should - every day

Details | Rhyme | |


You greeted death at the door
The insurance will not cover this
The flowers, petals, a raging storm
Faint at distance

Splinters from the steel in which you lay
Unchangeable lies weave a tattered song
Die here a while, wish I could stay
Too long

A day of grieving in our grasp
As long as we have time to waste
Indifferent faces have stared their last

Man in a box is a martyr
Man in your home is a dog
Pulling strings till you stagger
Open your eyes and unravel 
At the dawn

Ashes to ashes, heart to heart
A hymn for posterity
Empathetic strangers are a work of art
In my apathy

Person you're trying to call isn't here
You have knocked me off the receiver
Tears recognized failing faith won't appear
I'm a believer

10,000 days in isolation
Breathe in the spores to stay survive
Do not take the time to necessitate
Never alive 

Man in a box is a martyr
Man in your home is a dog
Pulling strings till you stagger
Open your eyes and unravel 
At the wronged

Details | Rhyme | |

Solitary Helmet

We came upon a clearing
In the scattering of the town
Bomb damage as scenery
In this place called Caen
The village square we reach
Shell casings pepper the ground
Blood and spillage flows
War is all around
In the distance we hear 
That the enemy are retreating
The losses our heroes
In this theatre of beating
The local school 
Which had seen the worst
A tribute exists 
Of the fallen first
In the debris there stands
His weapon of war
Upon it sits
The helmet he wore
This patriot
Of the land of the free
The Stars and Stripes
He will no longer see
As we continued our quest
To free Europe and beyond
So many solitary helmets
Will unify our bond

Details | Lyric | |


The harlot
only comes out at night,
to solicit with her curves
and high heels...
money for her abused sexiness.
Lots of cheap perfumes
on her provocative 
and tight clothes;
deep red lipstick
on her dry, cracked lips.
the glowing moon to walk with her
until morning, 
and running fingers in her long hair,
she embodies Venus to lure men.
And the harlot with a blonde-colored strand,
never tires of pacing 
these streets giving off their stench,
roaming dark alleys, where owls hoop...
warning her of another danger coming. 
The harlot,
spreads a disease that kills,
and those seeking pleasure
are fully aware of the consequences...
so why frequent this loathsome spot?    
She wouldn't care less,
as long as her purse is full,
and shots of cocaine thrill her demonic soul;
tomorrow night, this harlot will wear a different dress,
and deliriously laughing...she'll hope to cheat death.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Free verse | |

Our Brothers To Be Avenged

   Here in the city flats
With  congregations of millions by and by
Mindless to all but directional front
Café’s are open for breakfast and brunch
Architectural brilliance touches the eye
A Broadway quartet in top hats.
    Copper beauty stands over her masses
Shining freedom borne from a free mason’s fight
Resides herein a king of this empire state
With places enchanting where lovers date
A bumper’s kiss in the morning’s light
When coffee spills from Styrofoam glasses.
   Concrete drafted magnificence 
Two brothers stand in the open
Beauty outstretched to scrape the sky
Within the clouds where steel birds fly
Cord box rides to a hundred and ten
Glass borne images of sunlight sense.
   The world sees you empire state
The wretched poor and mass defined
You are to those who wish to be free
A breath of sincerity and will to be
For all has a right to freedoms un-lined
You are the way of the golden gate.
   To others yet to tempted force
And religion tends the foreign man
Absurd are you; in worldly shame
Built as a pawn of Hades game
To break the king and slaughter the lambs
On silver birds comes the hoarse.
   Brings to face foundations hinge
Screams in confusion of twisted steel
Zeus has commanded to clear the sky
Two brothers to fall and thousands to die
A people broken of a moments will
And stronger still
Our brothers to be avenged.

Details | Free verse | |

I've Been Saved { Seven By Seven }

staring out the windows bay
                                           in this wheelchair I now stay
                                            never listened to  Mom  Dad
                                            about dangers of a cave's fad
                                            lit a match thought I was brave
                                           hidden gasses now friend's in grave
                                            I give Thanks for I've been saved

True Story Dear Friend
Is Confined To Wheelchair

Learn About Caves
 Before Ya Go Exploring
For They Hold Deadly Gasses

Details | Free verse | |

One Shot

Identity of the unknown,
Travels down a narrow road.
Misjudged and scared,
But he couldn’t hold….
Emotion from controlling,
The one thing in life he admired, and loved.
But it was taken away,
Within a single day,
He couldn’t withhold fear or depression.
So he used a weapon,
As an impression.
On that man, that very day.
He shot him then he turned away,
From life and love all at once.
He didn’t know what else to do,
And no one else had a clue.
Why he shot that man, that day
But he knows in every way.
He killed that man,
On that day.
Because his life was down the drain.
He made wrong choices,
Along the narrow road.
And with One Shot, his story was told.

Details | Rhyme | |

Operation Dynamo

Exodus on a massive scale
1940 under assail
Three hundred thousand
Fathers and sons
Dunkirk evacuation
From the Hun
Not seen for hundreds of years
To save our hero's, relay their fears
1500 ships of many sorts
Arrived on mass
Naval escort
British and French
Beached and battered
Quest to save Europe
Defeated and shattered
Queues of troops
Line the sands
Await their fate
Strands of man
Luftwaffe scream over head
Drop their cargo, inevitable dead
Explosions softened, by the Dunkirk sands
Saved so many of the waiting strands
Hail the sky, the RAF
Contained the hun from machine gun strafe
Their dedication in foggy skies
The ultimate saving of many lives
The aftermath of this unbelievable task
And the dedication of this incredible ask
Organisation on the grandest scale
For in the future we will not fail
To free Europe, another Armada will sail
" Dedicated to the many men liberated from the beaches at Dunkirk,
              who returned to do, what only hero's can do " 


Details | Verse | |

The Nihilist - Five: Dog-Tired Days

Parallel went the universe someplace along the line
When autumn French-kissed winter with tongues of leaf and ice;
The lamp-posts dripped drab amber with a dark and dreary shine,
A devil's brew of garnished sleet, elemental egg-fried rice.
Night caved long and colder as day fell short, sedate,
And I felt somewhat older, in my heart a dying spark;
Crying out for love rekindling to alleviate the fate
Of departing in pitch-blackness and returning in the dark.
Tedious treadmill grinding as the Christmas pines were sawn,
Down in the valley decorations sagged and popped and spat;
Sizzling bulbs of neon death, ramshackle and forlorn,
Greeting cards from no one close had piled up on the mat.
My eyes blurred red and jaundiced in a fiery bourbon haze,
Well-past midnight I still sit and hungrily imbibe;
Toasting all the ghosts I knew throughout my dog-tired days,
On glitzy wrapping clawed the wishes I wished to inscribe.
Never has the relevance of nothing meant so much,
The face of unrequited love recedes in mist and snow;
The angels on the Christmas tree bestow no healing touch,
Pull up the covers, settle down, there's nowhere left to go…

Details | Rhyme | |

They Will Never Roam

In modern warfare conflicts
We need to get there fast
Giant transporter aeroplanes
Take off in turbine blast

Inside these metal birds
That fly through natures skies
Deliver our knights in armour
To fight an enemy despised

These deliverers of peace
Will also take them home
Some will walk the apron
While others will never roam

We will always remember them
The way they left our shores
Just like our heroic veterans
All those years before

To watch them march so slow
Coffins held aloft
Their carriage that awaits them
Turns hard men to soft

On their tear laden journey
Our lost ones finally home
For in all our hearts
From there, they will never roam

Details | Free verse | |

The Flying Casket

amidst my indelible impressions
comes an era of remembrence
that shall go down in history

I recall the flight of an airship
traveling abroad from Europe
to the United States 

with ninety seven aboard
passangers crews and news media
were all awaiting for its safe arrival

as newsreel coverage was filming
the attempt docking of this flight it
turned into a blazing yellow and red fireball

within one minute
thirthy five lives had

In Memory Of 
Those Lost On The

{Deutsche Luftschiff Zeppelin #129}

Also Entry For
Brian Strands 
Indelible Impressions Contest

Details | Rhyme | |

The Start of the End of my Village

One day herding my animals
The other, tending our crop
Strangers out of the distance
To them, we knew not
The colour of our skin
Is with these distant men
On arrival at my village
We are herded into a pen
Our women and children screaming
Warriors manacled and chained
Treated like this in our homeland
Degraded mistreated, unexplained
The next day we witness our nightmare
Our village ransacked and burned
Six hundred marched to the coastline
Our existence overturned
The coast we eventually reach
A ship, The Brooke's sits offshore
Ferried out on their longboats
For our future, remains unsure
Many weeks at sea
Grown men cower in corners
In the bowels of this infested ship
Families have become mourners
Tilbury Docks we berth
As i look around and see
From over 600 villagers
Around 300 left and me

Details | Rhyme | |

The Start of the End of Me

On Tilbury docks we stand
Separated from my kin
Is the reason we're standing here
The colour of my skin
Standing in the column of no future
I hear the white-man say
We are heading to Virginia
To be plantation slaves
Another journey awaits me
Without my family
The thought of never seeing them again
Internally horrifies me
We find ourselves at sea
With a shout land ahoy
The state of Virginia reached
Where men are turned into toys
We are standing in a line
In a market like cattle and sheep
To my left and to my right
Grown men, cower and weep
White men are shouting and bidding
With no thought to who we are
Do they know we look just like them
The difference is in our colour
Bidding and bartering over
Shaking hands as their deals are done
We head to the plantation
This era for me has begun
Years of toil and work
We hear stories from where we came
Slavery has been outlawed
Will America become the same
As America enters civil war
The North against the South
We hear of Abraham Lincoln
For these words are from his mouth
" I never, in my life,
  felt more certain that i was doing right,
  than i do in signing this paper "
The civil war ends
With many killed and maimed
White and black from all walks of life
We are human, and we all have names
For on December the 6th
Slavery was abolished
How many of me had died
I grew old and free
So far away from my home
My family i never found
For my spirit, will forever roam

Details | Rhyme | |

Novi Sad, Saddened

Another chapter
In our human race
4,211 murdered
In this Novi Sad place

Serb, Jewish
And Roma ethnicity
Gunned down
In massacre simplicity

In the Danube River
It's icy depths
Over four thousand souls
Dumped and left

The initiators arrested
To face their crimes
Escaped to Germany
For their freedom time

After the war
Located and arrested
Executed, dead
Whilst the massacred rested

It's just another chapter
In our human race
How many more
Until we start to loose face

In memory of the " Massacred at Novi Sad and other locations from

                        January 21st to the 23rd - 1942

Details | Alliteration | |

Sadam No More { Alliteration}

                                      Bombs bursting bunkers beds
                                       Sadam suddenly soils shorts
                                       Army Airforce Alies Allegence
                                    Condem Country's Crooked Coward

Send Our Troops Home

           Go U.S.A.
              Hu Ra

Details | Blank verse | |

Far Afield

In this strategic somewhere
Battalions marched to nowhere
Keeping peace in face of dragons
Concealed in the foothills.
Tiger tracks in sand vanish
As though sucked into oblivion,
Wiped out by desert storms
And the unforgiving winds.
Dear Whoever letters mailed
To post-boxes, obliviously, telling
Of whirlybird crashes
And the charred dead remains.
Friendly fire a misnomer,
Murderous justification spun,
Revving propaganda engines
And wheels within wheels, etc.
We regret to inform
The child you bore and nurtured
Is unrecognisable to the eye
And like a tarmac jigsaw.
He’ll no doubt be sent back to you
Boxed in something smaller,
So you may burn again his bones
In a ceremony of your choice.
Some mandarin pontiff bids
And bidding is done remotely,
Far afield where life is spent
As though to burn. 

Details | Free verse | |

Current events commentary

Do you think I care 
For your phony Arab spring
And dead trees and hot wind
I have never seen a spring without seed popping from the soil
I should know I am made from the dust of the earth
Spring must have rain and bring flowers
Like the peace people use to sell in California
Before I knew they were only exploited slaves
Following someone else's agenda
Muttering words that were meaningless to their existence
You see what I cannot believe in what I see again
I am a man of faith, and have always been
Since the blindfold fell like scales of history
There is no Arab spring
Only the death of the old undying resistance
That would not conform to nothing but self
Only the death of people in the street
Who does not know the puppiteer willed them
For if they return from the dead
What will they see
Only the same old things more dilapidated than before
Only the invisible hand doing visible things
Killing people and calling it spring
That the new world order may prevail
As a new nomenclature
For the same old stuff that has made us barren
And berefted us of dreams
I want my children to better off than I have been
I can only entrust to me
Sleeping at their door armed with a prayer and an angel
That is who we were
Before the primitive hordes came from the sea
Before the sea people defied the bounds of their habitation
Before our empires were stolen
And we ended up in cages at the Bronx zoo
Yeah, you should read that story too
It is only by prayers we suruvive
It is the mystic part of us, the first part they derided
Calling it animism, or some dark sinister stuff
Making us afraid to own ourselves
We abandoned everything and found no berth
In their new economic order
For we were always commodities or some sort of value in exchange
So those high sounding, idealistic documents
They copied from what we believe but could not bring to pass
Those constitutions were not about us nor our possibility
For we were not construed to have humanity enough for that.
Then are we suddenly men again
That the Arab spring should be something more than a sinister thing.
I stop believing in Trojan horses long ago
I mean it is there as a gift
But I will keep working the night shift
When there is no moon
Just remember what is the color of my skin
Because all things work together for good
And I cannot walk by sight in the darkness
So I live by faith in season and out of season.

Details | Rhyme | |

Belt of no Faith

Early morning
In various places
Faiths of many
Wearing different faces
Families descend
To spend their time
Families intend
To queue in line
Shoppers gather
Sellers sell
Many hundreds
Getting on so well
A face so different
Enters the scene
Although they blend
The look of mean
Position chosen
Before this day
No thought or care
Of who they slay
Connection met
Explosion spew
Scarlet life
In sporadic flew
Innocents scattered
Families torn
These newly called martyrs
From natures womb born
Media coverage
To foreign lands
Showcase this horror
By cowardly hands
Carnage cleared
Blue skies return
To witness the horror
Where many lives turned
This belt of no faith
Triggered for what
Remembered today
Tomorrow forgot
The people's people
Return every day
Market Square Hero's
In-spite of the slay

Details | I do not know? | |


To dream... 
                    To see orselves as we really are
                     To travel near and travel far
                     To know our fears and fight them well
                     To climb to heaven descend to hell

To dream...
                    Of life and death and one true love
                     To know our father high above
                     To dream of roads we didn't take
                     To overcome our old mistakes

To dream...
                     Of things both old and new
                      Of days gone by when i'm with you
                      To dream of lovers, foes, and friends
                      Of lives long gone and back again

To dream...
                     Of all our favorite things
                     Of happy times and evil schemes
                     To know that all we see or seem
                      Is but a dream inside a dream.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Blue and the Grey

1860, is the date we start
Secession in question, this Slavery art
The Blue and the Grey about to differ
This growing giant about to shiver.

April 12th 1861, inevitably the fire of a gun
Fort Sumter in SC
Was the place in question it happened to be
And alls about to break loose you'll see.

Armies were gathered, families stretched
Leaving their farms, Militia etched
Joining up with strangers and friends
Soon to be on the devils rend.

Emancipation Lincolns thoughts
No more Slaves can be bought
To press this task so they can roam
The Blue and the Grey, at mouths they foam.

Robert E Lee pressed and surged
Until it came to Gettysburg
Pressed back and defeated here
The demise of the South i beg to fear.

The Battle Of Vicksburg
If you were there to tell
Was the Start of End of the Souths rebel
As Sherman marched on to the sea
Confirming the Feds would no longer be.

If you look at the names who fought and died
From various Countries and walks of life
Doctors, Blacksmiths and many a man
Did what was right, the best they can
They stood in lines as they marched a hoot
As they got so close the others would shoot
The pride and passion as they fell, mown down
From many a city, and many a town.

Its many years now, as we bow our heads
Look to the past, as we salute our dead
My America now, from actions to this
Freedom our cry, and happily bliss
My ancestors proud as they should be
Whether Blue or Grey
I thank thee.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Murderous Run to Safety

As we climbed down the nets
Into the landing crafts
Veterans of theatre
With a mixture of drafts

In the distance through the spray
We could sight foreign lands
Normandy it is
After many months being planned

Closer and closer
With explosions all around
Our time is nearing 
Will we reach these foreign grounds

The landing craft ramp
Drops with a splash
As we run through the water
Along the sands we dash

High on the cliff tops
Spandau's spray the beach
Bullets ripping flesh
Whilst gun emplacments preach

The lucky ones made it
As the unfortunate lay dead and dying
Limbs torn from souls
Some starring at the skies

As we shelter below the cliffs
We encourage the ones who follow
As they rush through the dead and red
Before death has them swallowed

For a moment i closed my eyes
And thought " why in the hell am i here "
When a bullet zips my helmet
So startled, that death was near

To the cliff tops we must climb
Pipe bombs lead the way
Barbed wire blown to bits
As our snipers have their say

Below the gun emplacements
Grenades in precision lob
Amongst our bitter enemy
A few more lives we've robbed

After many hours of fighting
The cliff tops we have taken
As i look down on the beaches
Redded by the ones, who will never awaken 

      This is the first poem in my story, as you follow me as i fight my way 
to Berlin, and eventual peace after many years of wanton killing and suffering

Details | I do not know? | |


 I stand looking out to the sea 
 But in my mind Normandy is just a memory 
 Of an early morning that day in June 
 We said a prayer and faced our doom 
 So many were lost that day 
 Those memories will never fade away 
 From the water to the beach to the wall 
 Never stopping to help the comrades who did fall 
 They call us heroes for what we did 
 We weren’t heroes we were just kids 
We’re the lucky ones who are here to tell the story 
Of the true heroes who deserve the honor and glory 
And for all those who were lost that day 
 We’ll remember you always and in all our hearts you’ll stay 

Dedicated to the US Army Rangers 
 And my Uncle Staff Sergeant Michael Mazzullo  101 Airborne Rangers  5th 
Battalion Company C 

Details | Haiku | |

The Sky Is In Flame

The sky is in flame
cracking the edge of our life, 
no sign of laughter

Details | Rhyme | |

God's Little Angel

My little Caylee
you were only three
how could someone have taken you from me

on a summers day
you went out to play
now someones buried you in mud and clay

but do not fret my little angel
for they will be caught one day
whether man or woman God will have his last say

as balloons and clowns will return that smile
gods taken your hand to hold for awhile

you will forever remain etched in our hearts
for God has given you a brand new start

though you are a millions miles away
I can still hear your laughter while you play

My little angel who I never knew
it makes me sick for those who had no clue on
how you could of been a doctor lawyer or a nurse to help the few

like I said have no fret cause God sent his crew 
to return his little angel and start anew
for their is other parents that will love and hold you 

In Loving Memory Of Caylee Anthony
RIP Sweetheart

Details | Verse | |

Lucinda River

Sweet Lucinda River laid her body on the bed,
And gave herself quite freely to the soldiers queued outside,
Such philanthropic womanhood, both cash and charity, 
That they might have a taste of life before they went and died.

Her photograph in sepia shades is bound in leather now,
Or crinkled skin of crocodile upon the mustard field,
Discolouring with drying blood in falls of rain and snow,
Imaginary sweetheart, her persona unrevealed.

Sweet Lucinda River cried for all the callow dead,
Their faces swam before her eyes as tears turned them raw,
She made them into men more than the army ever did,
A taste of life before they died, what man could ask for more?

Might bleeding hearts condemn her as a moral reprobate,
Unknowing of the grief she hid or life she had to live,
Don't eulogies and graveyard speech seem hollow by compare,
When sweet Lucinda River gave them all she had to give?

Details | Rhyme | |

He Did What He Could

Over a thousand souls
Sheltered from the hell
By a German industrialist
Whom he saved, would tell
From forced labour camps bought
Under the Third Reich's nose
To work in his factories
As their war effort grows
Diamonds and cash
Bribed Amon Goeth
A barbaric camp leader
Who spoke with deaths froth
The saved ones worked
Manufacturing grenades and shells
Not one could be fired
As history did tell
It's now the end of the war
With over a thousand saved
From their persecuted era
Where they were imprisoned, enslaved
Amon Goeth was hanged
Aged 37
The souls of the lost
Look down now from Heaven
This saviour of Jews
Died aged 66
He wanted to save more
Through his financial tricks
At Israels Yad Vashem
Righteous Among the Nations
Where they place rocks still
Oskar Schindler rests, in Jewish Heaven
  My tribute to an amazing man, whose determination
to save as many Jews as he possibly could, and he did.

Details | I do not know? | |

Street Chivalry

Your pistol glimmers in the moonlight.

This is how we fight.

Cocked, locked, and loaded, your ready to die.

For my five dollars and a quick little high.

A genuine cop killer you hold.

To you I cannot fold.

Through your eyes I see the pain.

Much like mine, for what you do I cannot blame.

For me this is routine.

Is this the real American dream?

Some what like brothers are you and I.

For it is on these streets we live and die.

No one dreams of living like this.

Anything else, we know would be bliss.

Sadly, this is how we live.

I know why you take for you cannot give.

Despite this common bond we share.

It is from these hands, my money you must tear.

And it is here we are no longer brothers.

On these streets we kill one another.

Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #272 / A place

A narrow street separates my subdivision from the graveyard,
a place for the living,
a place for the dead,
a place for us all.
Both under the sun and bathed at once in shadow,
are they so far removed?

Details | Narrative | |

Vampire Moon (1)

On Bourbon Street in the vertical rain,
In the dominance of shadowed domain,
Where the swamp gas reeks of a distant death,
Faint and remote like a dying breath,
Steam rises up from the cobbled ground,
And dreams misplaced are seldom found.

The rats in the quarter bristle and dart,
Conveyors of plague from an evil heart,
And the legions of dead stay where fell,
Whilst the ringing out of the handcart bell
Sounds like a warning from far away,
A signature tune for judgement day.

As fog wreaths the streets like a living shroud,
A vampire moon breaks through the cloud,
And dogs with rib serrated skin
Howl at the sky and the wailing wind;
The lord of damnation stalks the night
Eyes of blood lust burning bright.

The cathouse sprawl lies silent, still,
The whiskey bars no longer fill,
The hulls of ships tied at the dock,
Creak and groan and gently rock,
And all the oil lamps cease to burn,
They gutter out at his return.

On Bourbon Street where walk the dead,
Eyes of blood lust burning red,
Comes something wicked, black and cold,
Which human sight should not behold,
With pallid face and razor-teeth
And vampire moon to stalk beneath.

Details | I do not know? | |

Shell Casings

There is a land somewhere
The place is lifeless

And realizing, by this sight
One finds life to be priceless

At times there will be
Extraordinary disputes
Between nations of which
Own armys of repute

These armed forces posses
Warriors and machines
having powers we, may only guess

As these titans clash
Over reasons they not know
Warriors fall
Over reasons they have yet to be shown

All that is left
On the surface of this land
Are empty shell casings
And spots colored red
 where our hero’s have bled

Details | Free verse | |


I change.... but in death

                                a bay leaf falls and dies-

My regret ... follows you to the grave

                      upon the fresh earth the asphotel lily lies-

In country lore of days of old

         flowers ...a symbolic story told

Details | Ballad | |


He was with God before the world came to be,
and He created with Him our breath-taking Universe;
His name was Jesus,the Redeemer of the Human Race:
and to change and save us was His destiny...

He preached in the Temple, and all Jerusalem listened carefully,
but some didn't like to hear how He spoke against evil so openly;
and they weren't the Romans,the conquerors,
but those hypocrites in high places...

Jesus drew huge crowds by lakes and mountains,
by the country roads and in small towns;
they all came to hear the Gospel with gladness,
and Joseph was one of the priests who heeded those words...

On the lake of Genesaret, Jesus performed another miracle,
telling Peter to lower the net for a catch, but he was skeptical: 
until he saw the boat was about to sink with the heavy load,
and he came to realize the bounty of God... 

As Jesus became popular and all heard Him preach,
the priests and scribes became jealous of Him,
and planned to capture Him and found Him guilty of blasphemy:
by the very hands of Pontius Pilate who feared to condemn Him...  

But the crowd cried out, " Release Barabbas! ",
and those who called out the name, "Jesus,Jesus! "
were beaten and silenced by a mob who had no mercy;
Pontius Pilate had no choice but to deny His liberty...   

The Roman soldiers grabbed Jesus
and took Him to governor's place,
and they stripped and whipped Him 'till he bled;
and worst of all : a crown of thorns they put on His head... 

Along the Via Dolorosa Jesus carried the cross to His death 
as the women wept and men mocked Him with laughs,
never a commotion,so great, was felt in all Jerusalem;
a follower gave Him water, but he was restrained by swords...

The merciless soldiers placed the cross upon Jesus's shoulders,
and Simon from Cyrene finished bearing it behind Jesus;
he really felt the same pain and agony;
and from Jesus's smile, he knew He was relieved...

From the cross at Golgotha, Jesus asked His father
to forgive them as John stood by his mother;
to one of the evildoers He promised Paradise at no cost:
and to all who would believe and follow:  redemption by the cross....

Details | Rhyme | |

Blood on Emeralds

The blood of Emeralds
In Northern Ireland's streets
Where sides detest
Victims they seek
Religious divide
Neighbours slain
For the life of me
What to gain
These troubled times
Historic sores
Deep rooted pasts
Now to the fore
Many guns came out to play
Both sides fell, as they murderously slay
During the week, even Sundays
The Belfast agreement of 1998
This Land of Emeralds, in peaceful state
Neighbours safe to talk again
Never allow the blood, on the Emeralds stain

" Dedicated to all Ireland - The Emerald Isle "

Details | ABC | |

Lost In Sorrow

Lost In Sorrow
Drowing in black blood
searching for something 
but can not find

Lost In Sorrow
Drowing in black blood 
touching burning acid
burning thru skin and born

Lost In Sorrow

Details | Rhyme | |

Bridge to paradise

When he was a kid,he took his own advice,
Set off on his own for the bridge to paradise.
He looked high and low,on the different roads he took,
There was a lot of places he's been,and some places he didn't look.
He got married,had kids of his own and forgot about his advice,
With his mind on his family,he forgot about the bridge to paradise.
As he grew in age and failing health with his family,
An old friend told him,the bridge to paradise you cannot see.
As he lay on his deathbed,he remembered this advise,
Looked to the lord for thanks and found the bridge to paradise.

Details | I do not know? | |

The Desert

Aye we languished 'neath a blazing sun
As wearily we dropped one by one
Sand so blinding to the naked eye
So harsh to make a grown man cry
Parched and cracked with naught to drink
Delirium, so a man can't think
Lost and stumbling through the dev'lish heat
We cooked to death like so much meat
Six we were, then five, then four
I am the last, the others no more
So I pen this note to my lovely wife
But to the desert I give my life

Details | Free verse | |

Light a candle

With glimmer of hope
and heaviness of heart
we light a candle,
to shine away
for wandering souls
that they may find
their way .
To lay to rest
their weary heads
and console
their troubled minds.
Release their souls
from life’s torment
and find
a peaceful home.
We light a candle
to bring us hope
that one day
we shall know,
where we will be
as one family
and know where
our souls go.

Details | I do not know? | |

I Remember It All Too Well

On a clear and bright September morning
 Suddenly it happened without any warning
A jet crashed into Tower One
And the beginning of the terrible nightmare had begun
Then as we watched it happened again
 We looked on in shock and wondered when would it end
Thick black smoke filled the air
 And among the cries and screams all we could do was to look on in fear
 With tears in our eyes we prayed
That all those inside would be saved
The a rumble came from Tower One
 It shook the earth and then it was gone
 A cloud of smoke and dust filled all downtown
Cutting down everything in it's path clear across town
A short time later Tower Two fell
It seemed someone had opened the gates of Hell
The search went on night and day
And when a body was found the workers stopped and prayed
And now a year has passed by
And we still remember and still cry
For all the innocent lives lost that day
For so many words we'll never get to say
 I remember it all so well 
And the pain and sorrow these mere words can never tell

Details | Blank verse | |

Of Mice And Mengele

Stood aside the gruelling line,
His swastika eyes absorbed
Miniscule details of victims
As they filed past, heads bowed,
Hearts crushed.

Imperceptible nods potted fates,
The guards watched his every move,
Dragged apart the chosen ones,
The ones his nods imbued with gravitas,
Unnatural selections.

His nostrils drew their scent,
Aloft his precise black lip hair,
And sensors tasted in his throat
Their stench, the flavours of dirt and flesh,
Their fear.

Each body a genetic canvas in waiting,
Drawn and doodled on with blades,
Exposed with shears,
Injected, gassed, sliced and dissected,
Frankenstein’s clay.

All the time his swastika eyes bored
Like black bullets into snow,
And not for one single second
Did his maggot brain tell him
This is wrong.

For by accidents of birth
And by the sick doctrines of evil
They were doomed his human lab mice,
In a time when the devil held sway,
His apprentice, Mengele.

What was lost to this world
On marble slabs and in butcher rooms?
What was lost to this world
In theatres and ovens, in acid vats?
What was lost to this world of
art, poetry, science, history, life?
What was lost, what was lost to this world,
What he stole for a while,
Was humanity.

Details | I do not know? | |


As we look through the glass,waiting for you to arrive,
never figuring on the fact that you might not be alive.
We see a man in black getting closer to our door,and we
know this isn`t the same man that we been waiting for.
He`s here to tell us the news of the deceased,he`s here
to tell us what we expected the very least.
He` says my brother past while in his sleep.
He says my best friend died while counting sheep.

Details | Free verse | |

Battle of Shanghai

Running, running down the hall --
A thousand invisible faces stare in silence, 
Memories from before the war. 

Screams of metal echo through my mind --
A hundred trains reduced to sparks 
Amid the turmoil of detonations.

The sky hangs gray above the rubble --
Exposing the scene of fire and fear, 
Even the sun is shamed by the bloodshed.

Details | I do not know? | |

Meet Me On Heaven's Dock

When death’s ship leaves this earthly port,
And it’s the final minutes of my time clock
Greet me there when my ship comes in
Please meet me on Heaven’s dock.

Have my kin folks there, have everyone waiting
Have them waiting with arms open wide.
Welcome me in from the journey long,
As into Heaven’s harbor I glide.

When I depart this life, and move onto the next
And I’m into Thine presence with Thee.
Whatever it takes to get there,
Oh, please Lord let it be.

So when death’s ship leaves this earthly port,
And it’s past midnight’s o’clock.
I’m expecting to see you meet me there,
Just meet me on Heavens Dock.

Details | Free verse | |


I tried to ascertain just what EYE might be. 
EYE = Eternity. 
A rally long time. 
E = MC 3. 

A boy running in a straight line and never tiring never 
even stopping just running and running and never out 
of breathe never worried about his little heart, no start 
or beginning and no ending. 

Wait , no that is not eye. 


Three Old Men walking with walking sticks. 
Walking in a straight line ,stately, and with dignity. 
Three Old Men whom are dignities , walking in the desert, 
passing bye a tent,turning out of the heat because 
Abraham hailed them. 
Please kind sirs stop in here and eye will feed them. 
EYE am Heaven. 
Eye am on my way to destroy the Sodom and Gomorrah. 
For the hue and the cry of it has reached to me in Heaven. 
Sometimes fire upon the wicked just to save them. 
Life instead of death deserved. 
Manna in the wilderness instead of a man in a red dress. 
Eye could now go on and on and on and on and on and on and on, 

Details | Rhyme | |

Spree Killers

If we are lucky to wake every day
But spare a thought for what i am about to say
For many years and for what ever reason
There appears to be, crazy shooting season

Its not just recent, it goes back many years
Always grief and many tears
Below i highlight just a few
Who perished as their bullets spew

Uireyeong, S Korea in 1982
Virginia Tech he killed 32
In Dunblane, kids as young as 5
Access to guns, did not leave many alive

These killing sprees and the reasons they do
To take the life off me and you
What turns these people into Spree Killers
What flicks the switch, into stomach chillers

Whether female, whether male
What makes their respect for humans fail
The hurt and pain as they shoot away
Lasts not for tomorrow, but many a day

What beggars belief, and i cant comprehend
To face their music, so their crime doesn't end
Instead they shoot themselves in the head
Families hurt, never put to bed

The only word my head displays
Are these cowards, who end their days
And leave behind such hurt and pain
And thank the lord, they can't hurt again

Details | Free verse | |

The scenes we left behind remain

Embedded in tormented mind , 
blood clogged fields,
dangling limbs - contorted.
Whistling ammunition,
gun fire resounds.

Details | Free verse | |

Chained Seagulls

Morning breeze on planet’s face
So blue once, 
So warm now, 
So sad for us.
With ink from depths ,
Covered all over,
The sea’s inhabitants 
Cold rocks populated with their corpses.
Guilt?…mostly none.
Anyone? Something? Now!

Through clouds of dust
In chains of smog
Fly the once that were free…once.

Details | Rhyme | |

So Come

Like an artist who paints on a canvas
This poet with her words tells others about Jesus
My poetry is a supernatural gift and a talent
That through the indwelling of The Holy Spirit is Heaven Sent
For you see--to save you and me
Jesus came to the earth in the form of a virgin birth
For thirty-three short years--Jesus walked this earth
Then after being crucified--He died
And back to His Father in Heaven He went
But He promised The Holy Spirit to be Our Guide
That is what Jesus--God's Only Begotten Son has done for all of us--His Bride
It's time to decide--for time is short
Whose side you are on--the sheep or the goats
So you had better change all your evil ways
'Cause these are the last days
And stop sowing wild oats
Or on Judgement Day--in The Lord's Court
You'll be sentenced to death
So don't wait until you draw your last breath
For it will be too late to decide
Don't wait until you lose your wealth
Just 'cause all of these years because of all of your money
You've been thinking to Heaven--you'll get a free ride...
Don't wait either--until you lose your health
But decide now to be on The Lord's side
For The Bridegroom is coming soon for His Bride
Says Jesus The Son--"Come one--come all
'Cause in hell--beieve Me--you won't have a ball
So don't delay--don't hesitate--come to Me today
Before it's too late
Come to Me--bend your knee
From bondage--I'll set you free...
So come!"

Details | I do not know? | |


A war without boundaries
A nation under fear
Our government's intended motives
Aren't so crystal clear

The powers that be say we fight for freedom
But is that really the case?
The powers that be are money hungry
They are sickened with the taste

They will stop at nothing
To get their desires fulfilled
Even if innocents die
And another soldier is killed

Who can possibly stop them?
Their power seems too great
We were hoodwinked into a hidden agenda
Now retribution seems too late

Details | Verse | |

Elephant's Graveyard (Bones 2)

there is power herein the roots and vines
soil and grass and trees entwines
cathedrals of silence hewn of bone
stripped of flesh to rest alone
within a place where human eyes
may never see nor improvise
their preconceptions of the dead
where death shifts with relentless tread
and stamps his everlasting seal
on all that once was corporeal
and in the peel of windchime keys
sings ribs and legs and ivories
and skulls with empty sockets bare
no longer longer care

Details | Verse | |

A Lonely Place

Whatever lives or grows or dies 
within the seething copse; 
whatever eats or sleeps or cries 
in such a lonely place; 
whatever harvest there will be 
when life is old and grey, 
someone will gather it, keep it, 
reap it's black and cold disgrace. 

Whatever children pass this way 
towards the adult world; 
whatever dawns on any day 
may bring a frightened tear; 
whatever Hell may hold it's sway 
beneath the tread of man, 
someone will gather it, keep it, 
reap it's icy breath of fear. 

Whatever haven beckons now 
beyond the stuff of dreams; 
whatever instinct teaches how 
to tame the horrified; 
whatever knowledge leads us 
to stand up against the night, 
someone will gather it, keep it, 
reap it, bury it deep inside... 

Details | Free verse | |


Occasionally I wondered upon the finely groomed lawns
Amidst the silent crosses and weeping American flags

Within one of the immense reservoirs of my great country’s
Forever lost diamonds’ ultimate eternal resting place

They gave me a sense of calm and a comforting company 
My fellow brothers and sisters, and a feeling of sadness

In some ways I felt I should be resting there with all of them
But fate chose me to be their defender and never forget

The blood of these diamonds was paid for my countrymen’s freedom

Details | Verse | |


In the bleeding shadows threading queer and deft
Along and above corridors painted white and green,
Fluorescents flickered in their moth-brushed bowls,
And the madness and sweet anguish seethed unseen.
It was felt in the bones of the new and the old,
The creeping electric bristle of marrow and moss,
Sucking like leeches on the calcium and the blood,
Until the ligaments and plasma were nocturnal candyfloss.
Stole by the winds, the whisperings of the grave,
Uttered earthen verses, muttered fever of neurosis,
And the crowbars in the eyeballs of those who slept unsound
Soon let them dream again in a crystal meth psychosis.
Asylum gargoyles spewed their eternal gushing rain
From out of mouths wide open and torrentially agape,
Until the drains were flooding with the sewage of despair
And the land beyond the walls held only death as an escape.
In the clinic by the lamp a needle glinted in the light,
Hypodermic glowing amber, loaded with paraldehyde,
And the king of all insanity, now driven mad by ghosts,
Shot it up until the death, until by his own hand he died.

Details | Couplet | |

Space Age

The mystic lips of the moon
Propelled man to races
Sucked...lost...ended dust
In the silence of darkness

Details | Free verse | |

One Last Touch

You say good by to a yesterday love,
as memories surface on the wings of a dove.
Quiet is this room, where his body lies,
we are never ready when a part of us dies.
So many faces now look upon,
a wonderful person, forever gone.
Loved ones linger, they can't  let go,
but death is the beginning, for our
Salvation we know.
One last touch, one last kiss,
forever in our hearts,
he will be missed.

Details | Verse | |

Oblivion Street

Hang a left into Desolation Alley
where the meat-rack girls spin dead on their feet;
take a right onto Cruelty Crescent,
walk a crooked mile on Oblivion Street.
Feast those eyes and gloat your soul
on the life and death tapestry laid in despair;
drink of the torture and fear apparent
on the faces of those who are resident there.
Junk-heads, dope-fiends in cardboard box condos,
skeleton people with wild crimson eyes;
whores and their pimps froze in gangster-like postures
haunting neon lit streets under bruised purple skies.
Keening screams of the housewives whose monkey-brained husbands
leech pleasure from violence and drunken assault;
shout the odds, lay the blame, give the cow what she asked for,
distant sirens kick in like trapped ghosts in a vault.
Bloody kids wiring Volvos then driving like crazy,
glue-filled Golden Wonder bags stuck to their faces;
flip the jack on two wheels then ram-raid a shop front,
it’s Death Race 2000, a day at the races.
Graffiti-sprayed brick where the spelling is suspect,
the one slash of light in a black and grey view;
shouldn’t cut so much school, or at least go to English,
dyslexia strikes paint spray terrorists too.
Nothing adds up or makes sense in this maelstrom,
the crushed bones of youth in the flesh of dead meat;
no serum of reason can cure the awful
relentless great plague on Oblivion Street.

Details | Free verse | |


It's September the eleventh:
a most sorrowful day
in the lives of those folks who wept
bitterly and unconsolably to dispel dismay, 
as black clouds rose high
to hide Manhattan's dreary sky...

Sadness returns today,
as I hold a weeping rose:
my tribute to those
who were forever taken into yesterday,
who still live in the happiest memories:
to reminisce precious moments...

We all say that life is for the living
and we should stop grieving,
but does this make us neglect
or delay the healing we request,
with dignity and warmth,
and put restlessness to rest?.  

Sadness returns today
to remind us of a fatal event,
which took the lives of the innocent
and prompted the indisputable spirit
of the heroes to lead many to safety:
never bereth of courage and bravery...
Grieve and know that your wounds will heal,
another life will spring out of despair:
giving us strength to endure our own death...
when we'll confront that dark hour;
no sacrifice is ever done...fearing defeat,
and is havoc wreaked without breath?  

Sadness returns today
with an unlamentable serenity
that wasn' t there when indignation
erupted from an unforgivable pain:
justified only through quick vindication,
as angry words could barely say...   


Details | Elegy | |

Be Gone

Death be gone
I cannot, I will not
How could I ever leave you alone?
My bones ache
My suicide results 
Remain submerged in the wrong lake
Come if you will 
As a subject in your tragedy
On my final lay, I may lie ill
Death be gone
I cannot, I will not
How could I ever leave you alone?
I am the taker of man
The maker of your failing stand
In between plagues and romance
I must intervene
To call it cruelty is so vague
Only in those final hours 
Shall we have our scene 
Death be gone
There will be no open doors
No creeks in your floor
Please be gone
Why do you wish me away?
I will not plague your mirror
Though the thought is so inferior 

Details | Blank verse | |

The Hanging

His unshaven jowls quiver, and his lip trembles,
In his eyes, his rheumy eyes, simmers horror,
Revulsion at the memory, this old man, what he
Knows he has done and can never forget.

“Do it now!” the death’s head swine commanded,
“Kick it away.” And the young man said: “No.”
“Do it now, Juda, or someone else will. And you will be shot.”
And the young man repeated: “No!”

With the crude hemp chaffing red his malnourished throat,
The noose rigid and tight, his friend met his gaze,
Cool as a fjord in the moonlight, his eyes said it all,
The nod merely a punctuation mark, a full stop of assent.

The old man bleeds tears in the here and now,
Crying today, praying for absolution every hour of his life,
Haunted forever by the burn of a Luger barrel on his neck,
When he kicked the rusting bucket away…

Details | Verse | |


Tolled the bell, lichen scarred and
green ingrained the brass
clanging out of key and jarred
when severance came to pass.
Rocked the pulse, neurosis slowed and
pounded sly and weak,
untruthful psalms died on the road
disinheriting the meek.
Fired the treason signal flare and
cobalt turned to grey,
to earth it fell without a care,
it burned out far away.
Picking up the pieces and 
a blue dismembered child,
the anger soured the thesis
of an innocence defiled.
Tolled the bell, cracked with doom and
discord shook the scene;
ethnic cleansing drove the broom
and swept the graveyard clean.

Details | Imagism | |


together black
umbrellas mob the hearse-
in sheeting rain,they separate
in twos.

Details | I do not know? | |

Armenian Genocide

Maybe the suffering will end soon

Hope's only a death away

If we're lucky we'll all be dead tomorrow

If we're lucky we'll all die and leave behind this sorrow

Tired of seeing our people weep

Their deceased bodies in the streets

Starvation is life, malnutrition's set in

Our homes have been taken along with all our men

If we're lucky we'll all be dead tomorrow

If we're lucky we'll all die and leave behind this sorrow

The children are crying

We're all slowly dying

The end for our people is near

If we're lucky we'll all be dead tomorrow

If we're lucky we'll all die and leave behind this sorrow

Details | I do not know? | |

People 2


Human, sinful 
Doing good deeds, doing wrong 
Living anywhere and just everywhere 
Some survive while others die 

Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

just another day in the neighborhood

children are running and playing all around
teenagers are dancing and bouncing up and down
the music is hypnotic with it's relentless beat
floating on the air all over the street
just another day in the neighborhood

the johnny pump is spraying water all about
everyone's frolicking in it, enjoying this day out
a hot summer day and we're all trying to stay cool
thankful that it's Friday and tomorrow there's no school
just another day in the neighborhood

the streets are saturated with all manner of cops
another violent incident, someone's been shot
a family is feeling anguish and such terrible loss
we need to stop all the unnecessary killings at any cost
just another day in the neighborhood

the drug pushers are on the corner selling their wares
out in the open and nobody seems to care
what in the hell is wrong with society?
we all need a healthy dose of some reality

it's just another day in our neighborhoods
it's time for the people to start doing something for the good
we need to stand up for our convictions and our beliefs
and not give the criminal element any type of relief
take back control of our streets and our towns
let the thugs be aware we're no longer messing around

Details | I do not know? | |

The Final Moment

The man wandered through the lonely and desolate earth.  Suffering a tribulation 
of exile from human relationships.  He was the last one, the only one, the only 
man left on Gaia.  Walking, he went forward, onto the hill where he shall be 
saved.  The darkness and purity emanating at the same time from the sacred 
hill.  What was his new fate to be?  As he pondered he climbed to the top of the 
hill and observed… 

The animals, creatures of Gaia
Happy in the solace they found
Butterflies dancing between each other
A dance of courtship
A promise to share lives coherently
As beautiful as the butterflies were, they vanished

The man’s eyes averted quickly and saw…

Power, Dominance, Death, and Beauty
Beauty, oh… the irony
Distressed nature trying to rebirth areas of discontent
Earthquakes, Volcanoes, Hurricanes, and Tornadoes
Problems, but not
Beautiful, the tornado
Nature’s renewal
Absorbing impurities and leaving nothing but a fresh start
Volcanoes blew high stacks of lava
To the sky it rose, no boundaries

While being absorbed in the light of the crimson sky, the man saw something 

Comets flying through the celestial heavens
The universe, one space with minor hindrances
Stars, eclipse, Luna, Life
New wonders in the black

Scared and awed at the same time the man looked away…

Trees dancing through the wind
Soothing white cherry blossoms mourning
Mourning the cycle of life into death
As they, the trees
Released the tears of nature’s spores
Sad to the fate of future comings, death
The end of the cycle

Now confused, the man looked abroad and set his eyes upon the whole picture…

All pieces of nature flow together
Life into death
Creation to birth
Controlled by the passages of time
Nature a whole unity
Every area of Mother Gaia is one 
The balance perfect without the fingers of man tainting the purity

Then, the man’s memories came back.  The human’s tainted ness was like a 
cancer to the dear beloved Gaia.  Killing her they were.  Now the last one was left 
to ponder the natural order and progression.  Knowing his inevitable fate he 
fulfilled his destiny.  The man with his final breathes waited on the top of the hill 
and passed slowly to the grip of the heavens.   


Details | Rhyme | |

The Old Spider Web

The old spider web weathered many storms,
Now dusty and twining around,
Like a faded white rope hung with a noose
Casting shadows upon the ground.
It sways in the cool breeze under the sun;
The old empty home without a sound
Cries out in destruction for its maker and dweller,
But the spider cannot be found.
As it clings to an edge by one thin thread,
Twirling up and down and round,
It's about to give way like an old rickety porch,
More contorted, knotted and wound;
It still sways its noose as winds draw a breath
To bring this old web to the ground,
For too much decay has now swallowed it up,
And to its destiny it is bound.
Though it lingers in hope ere the day it will drop,
It will fall and be another mound,
Never rolled up again or stretched out in a garden
With its spider to be flower-crowned.

Details | I do not know? | |

Scary Silent Hill

This house has been here a hundred years
And yet nobody sees my tears.
Monsters lurk in all the halls
Everywhere there's bloodstained walls.
This place is a nightmare and I can't get out
Finding survivors is something I doubt.
It's raining outside but inside it's foggy
Outside my room is an inside-out doggie.
The only weapons that I own...
Are a pick, an axe, and some sort of bone.
I can't get close enough to kill
The monsters out there, they find it a thrill.
Some days I feel I can find my way
Other times I'd like to stay.
This place is full of memories passed
I don't know how long I will last.
This is where I was born and raised
By the monsters, never phased.
I am exhausted, dead on my feet
Surrounding my room is living-dead meat.
But I have got to face my fear
Up until my final year.
This place called Silent Hill is hell
And how to leave...I'll never tell~

Details | Free verse | |

Uninvited Death

Tragedy bristles upon the lips
and rivers in gestures of finger tips
It pools under suits incomparably black
sizes too small from disuse
Clinically built in a room sweating sorrow
which vacuum packs pain in a box 'till tomorrow
where loved ones bend whispers around all their stories
and sleep walk to hug the next guest
Ribbons from flowers blow stiff air conditioned
once perfectly placed and then quick repositioned
creaming the moments with dulling perfume
sprayed on in the fake factory
All of the smiles are pinned on to ears
in a desperate attempt to dissuade silver tears
which want to unsterilize every moment
and spin up a cyclone of grief
Footsteps are muffled by carpet too thick
in a dance of emotion brought brittle and sick
The room is a breath set to flame catalyst
with only one guest uninvited...

Details | Senryu | |

Rhymes Or Reasons

                                                         door opens
                                                      shots ring out
                                                no rhymes or reasons

In Loving Memory
Northern Illinois Victims

Details | Free verse | |

Tarpon Bayou

On the bayou, molded brick streets
circle docks of wooden backbones stretched 
into black water, limbs sunk into seaweed 
now catchalls for rusty abandoned fish hooks from 
the "one that got away".
Old cement plateaus boast of jazz band days
when the water carried notes against the summer buzz
Insects, air dancing with a thousand eyes,
strung lights of pineapple gold glossed in evening ripples.
You in my arms, swirling in the shadows,
on the grass dance floor, no shoes, no socks
and nothing spoken in haste. 
This was the beginning of life.  The beginning of love.
From this day forward, the bayou took note of our names
Two of the many, unspoken, engraved on glass bottles,
and sunk to the bottom of the black water, 
never to wander from home.
In our deaths, these bottles will rise to the surface
with puffs of stale air
and the bayou will finally cut them loose,
floating them out past the collapsing docks,
past the first bloom of love and life,
to sea.

Details | Tanka | |

Tanka- funereal

huddled together
from the heeting rain
the unbrellas moc the hearse-
then in twos
slowly separate

Details | Narrative | |


Over a bottle of Stolichnaya vodka
And slices of kalbasa…. and cold breeze 
Of first September, you proudly spoke to me 
Of Lenin; we sat beneath the apple tree.

I disagreed not, with your thoughts
Neither, I agreed. It’s just I had no time 
To argue, nor speak about him right now, 
For my mind was fixated. A green apple

Teasingly, hanging above our heads; 
Come on, discussions…later, I childishly beg
As I kept lusting for the sweet juice of temptation; 
Tempted I was, it took me only one jump, for 

The fruit of my fleeting desire; 
Still, you refused to stop, talking 
About the great proletariat, who cares? 
Me? Hmm, nope, this green apple’s juicier 

Than what you’re telling; I wiped the thin dust off 
With my long-back shirt. Then, I opened my mouth 
To bite it; But, a passing, scraggy Babushka yelled:
“If you eat that apple, my son, you will die!”

Without asking her why? I threw it. 
Then, my friend Ruslanchik said: 
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,
We’re only 100 km away from our black history!”

Details | Verse | |

God's Waiting Room

Herein the empty vessels
cavort, frenzied motion capture,
compass cracked, fly blown
dervishes robbed of direction.

Mumbling lips aflutter
with poetry deranged;
dry dock for the ancients,
amnesiac retrograde.

Inconsolable and incurable,
imaginary tasks, furniture removal,
trailing human waste
they are the cause of.

Beneath a frozen clock face,
metal frames and walking sticks
lean in derelict repose,
surreal, Daliesque in structure.

The intimate stink of
bowel and bladder hangs
a cloud of doomsday,
peeling humanity’s very integrity.

All the while waiting,
injury and bonus time
arthritic in progress, waiting
to be touched by the hand of God.

Details | Free verse | |

Abandoned Place

Empty for centuries
Forgotten palaces of those
Long forgotten themselves

But the city remains...
Abandoned, yes..
But by the wisps of past doings
Etched into the forever
Vibrations that falter not,
But resonate with deeds...
and history,

Home to no one...
save the ghosts
of those...
Still attached...
in spirit...

How many cities,
How many worlds,
Are home to but
Memories unremembered?

Details | Rhyme | |


Went the day well once purveyors of love,
then welcomed to hell like another dead shell,
saw the mountains and crags and the bodies in bags,
whilst the grunts ran like rats with no wisdom to tell.

The platoon line descent to the lily-white breast,
for to smoke in the shade, more fresh meat for the blade,
for each khaki-clad ghoul with his butchery tool,
whilst the grunts ran like rats as though never afraid.

Burned their flesh well, the deplorable scum,
bringing napalm and knife and an ending to life,
for the flesh-eating thing made of sinew and string,
whilst the grunts ran like rats as death became rife.

How the fetish expands in the poisonous blood,
then welcomed the pain as it pumped to the brain
of the B-movie ham, heinous spirit of ‘Nam,
whilst the grunts ran like rats and the trees went insane.

Details | Free verse | |

Falling Down 911 Tribute

                     There were two towers that had hit the ground. 
                             Though many had not been found;
                                        You hated the sound of
                                  the towers hitting the ground. 
                                           And how profound 
                                            that it may sound; 
                                         But these two towers 
                                      should of not came down;
                                  From someone that is abound
                             and someday in hopes to be found; 
                               Now There is be a better sound; 
                                About the way our American Hero's 
                                             had kept their ground; 
                                  In hopes that any more of our towers 
                                            will not be Falling Down.

Tribute To 911 Victims 
And Our Hero's 
May You RIP


Click Here to Rate My Poem

Details | Free verse | |

I Took a Walk

My mind empty as my bank account.
Thoughts and worries squeezed out.
I shuffle along a neighborhood street.
No memories do I secrete.
I stare at my shoes, and the concrete.
No destination my goal.
Mere movement for movement's sake.
There's some rich new embarrassment
Preparing to burst forth
As a puss filled infestation of confusion.

Each day walking gets harder
Each day caring get harder
All my thoughts off key
My whole life out of tune.

Retreat to my bunker.
Viscous guard dogs patrol.
Electric fence of disdain
Surround the outer barbed wire fence

The tall wall next, guarded by fanatical defenders.
In the courtyard, seemingly placed as almost as a joke,
A small olive tree does evoke
The insanity of it all

Down 15 flights of bomb-proof
Armoured stairs, beneath a mountain
of reinforced concrete.
Through sense detectors,
sliding barriers, bullet proof
Barring escaping defectors

Finally to my worn linen throne
Meaningless posters and flags
Draped on a solid wall destined
To be crumbled in defeat...
My regime destined to the
eternal damnation for which
I'd worked so hard.

The shakes come from within,
As well as the bomb blasts above.
I have taken my last walk.
I left my mark upon this world.
One that decades will be required
to erase..

Details | Free verse | |


The castle of iron,
where no one cares,
will break you down,
leaving your soul to bare.
Many are there,
and more to come,
punishment waiting,
for crimes been done.
Bleak is the future,
as the doors shut tight,
tempers get nasty,
night after night.
Prevention is easy,
a choice is made,
the only way,
you can be saved.
Admit you are hooked,
seek treatment for cure,
forget those friends,
you can endure.
Life is short,
and it's one time around,
prison is one thing,
but dead is under ground.

Details | Lyric | |

Happy Place

The world is such a happy place
There’s nothing wrong, should stay as is
Love, peace and joy on every face
Living life just as you please
When darkness comes with each new night
Conquer it with light of laughter
Let children’s cries be smothered despite
Their suffering, happily ever after
And when clouds gather in the sky
To bring the rain that wash away blood
Bask in the sun, shelter, deny 
Or dance on gravesites in the mud
Yes, the world is such a happy place
There’s nothing wrong, should stay as is
Love, peace and joy on every face
Live life just as you please

Details | Bio | |

My Home

I walk down a hall of memories
Climb stairs to the past
To rooms no longer existing
But in my remembrance
Long torn down, turned to dust
Like my dreams of yesterday
Meals cooked and shared
With the ghosts of the past
Loved ones disintegrated
under sacred grounds
Dissolved to my history
By means to me a mystery

Yet, in my dreams
They live again
and someday I will
be reunited;of this I'm sure

Till then, we meet only
on the soft pillow of sleep.

Details | I do not know? | |

Fourth of July

Celebration date,
before war, a wonderous sight.
A sky full of light.
Acrid smell of sulfur.
A reawakening of the child within.

A couple years later,
homecoming long past,
the sounds of freedom ring loud.
Confusion abounds,
darkness surrounds,
lights flashing,
bombs bursting,
previous sounds of joy,
now release fear and dread.
Instant return to war.

Hot and dusty world,
keeping my head down,
I duck and hide.

They say it's normal.
That it's okay.
How can I tell them,
I don't want to live this way.
I guess some day
enough time will pass.
to once again...
Enjoy Freedom's Day.

Details | Free verse | |

The Grave

I took along walk one day,
to clear my mind an get away.
I stumbled apon an empty grave.
An to this day i'm glad I saw,
what was written on that granit stone.
were words that shook me to my core.
"Here lays an empty soul,left with out the want to fight .
She lost her way, now here she lays.
 Her broken heart shot her down, now she lays cold benith the ground."
These words I took to heart,
they gave my life a brand new start.
Since that day i've walked those woods,
and I never saw that grave again

Details | I do not know? | |

Red out

Eyes on the horizon,
watching, waiting, wishing.
The sky darkens, 
flooded with tiny bits of earth,
choking out the sunlight, 
breath by breath.
Rolling in.
Sadistic in it's approach.
Demonic artistry.

Behind closed windows,
locked doors, cloth covered faces,
fleeing like ants from a flame.

Inside, they wait.
The howling begins small and low.
The tiny tinkle of each grain,
increasing to vociferous bedlam.

Dust permeating every little crevice.
In your eyes, nose, mouth, 
hard to see, hard to breathe.
Lay and wait for the blow by.
At times, begging for relief,
or death, just to pass.
Coughing up the land 
beneath the feet of Moses.

Dreaming of bright blue sky,
more sand with every breath,
wet cloth covering,
a struggle just to breath.
Tedious suffocation,
mind racing, rambling.

The will to survive.
Slowly, miniscule grains crash to the surface.
Tiny beacons of sunlight, growing slowly,
becoming a firestorm.
then...All is clear.

Details | Rhyme | |

I'm Falling for you!

Sounds like a beautiful thing
Love may be on it's way
It's not what you think
It's how I feel every day

Your in my thoughts
Causing me more pain
I've fallen behind on paying my bills
Losing you once drove me insane

I climbed a ladder of success
So proud I could do it myself
Falling for you again
Is bringing down my health

I built an empire without you
It didn't take two as I thought
I will only love you
But other ways to love are sought

I just can't imagine
When we meet at heavens door
You find out you were wrong about me
And I'm falling for you back to Earths floor

I will be reborn
To do the things I love
You will be without me
Looking down from the heaven above-alone