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Social War Poems | Social Poems About War

These Social War poems are examples of Social poems about War. These are the best examples of Social War poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

The Enemy's Child : collab with Carolyn D


The battles on the field are harsh and tough
The looting in their wake engorged with greed
Abundant spoils of war are not enough.
 
Atrocious in their acts that make no sense
The women and the girls are taken slaves
Abusing them with lust and violence.                        
 
Unable to resist the touch of shame
The captive females cry in pain and fear
Their lives will never be again the same.
 
And when the dust of war has blown away
The children of the foe get born to those
Who months before fell prey and ravaged lay.
 
Unwanted children still need loving care
Mothers find it hard to nurture such babes
Shame is endured by children in despair.
 
Their lives are defined by horrid attacks
Evil men who satisfied selfish needs
Indignities make them fall through the cracks.
 
Who loves a child rejected by its kin?
Society offers them no solace 
The “enemy’s child”, created by sin;
 
But all these children still have hearts and souls
Rejection renews the cycle of pain
When there is no one who cares or consoles.

-----------------------------------------------------
Co-write: Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
@ March 2015


Details | Epic | |

Wall Street

      

Set upon the new world stage within the burning fires of hell. Silently posed factions of the elite, suppress the true inherit of Mother Earth. The meek children bending over for millennium, taken spankings of bare bottoms, pelted slavery. 

Upon entry to rule, the open stage of smoked mirrors began to reflect back upon the podium of lies. Taught by scholars from university books of political science. Fearful of leadership matching mirrored images, of false pretense, babbling rhetoric. The stirring masses of discontented, individualistic, thought of as dead - enders, trouble makers, and rebel rousers, rallied aimlessly.   

With super hero, Captain Do Gooder, bleeding helpless on the floor of Wall Street. Weary lost hope combatants mustered courage, and accepted destiny. To this point, someone shouted against the wind of change. Felt by all who sensed the importance. 
"To death do us part of the purpose to which we, the united, stand for justice". 
The chant began, as Captain Do Gooder was dragged away, and cuffed, once bleeding helpless on the floor of Wall Street. 
Damn the torpedoes. Damn the torpedoes. 
Captain Do Gooder, fallen, bruised ego matching skinned knees, lays helpless. Who will save them now.

Second glances from high rise penthouses. Serving champagne and caviar. Brought iron clenched hands once hidden, to draw the stage curtain down. 

With Captain Do Gooder nowhere to be found. The voice that came from pain of pupil. Born within broken dreams of promised lands. Realized nothing was coming cheap on this occupation. 

The dusty streets found Captain Do Gooder aimlessly stepping against the winds of change, down Wall Street. The well-intentioned, arrested and broken spirited, lost hope of recycling any salvage rights taken from them by Metro. 

Was this the end of the well thought out, pushed down occupation.  
Was this the beginning, of the underground faction. Where was senior generation X hiding. Only Captain Do Gooder and the well-intentioned, world stage occupiers, hold the key to that Pandora's box of hope. 

 
The peoples across the oceans were already springing far ahead in their own, more brutal campaign. For they had no cushion on which they were raised to kneel against. Tyranny ran over them.  A lesson yet not felt, or learnt, or taught, in the new world.  No chance of city mayors issuing eviction notices. Bullets, tanks and bombs were of the order. Brought down the line, traced back to the ones our United Nations to this day, refuse to acknowledge.
While leaders there home internet shop, and pump out the lies. Everyone dies. 


In the heart of the continent of center, where unto which as mankind sprang forth, for its first and ever conquest.  
The lights kept dim, to obscure the violent cleansing. A facade to disguise once moreover, the brutal tyranny for which the greed of the elite, control the dimmer switch. Diamonds and oil fuel the fire of war and oppression, on this stage of greed and guilt. Too far away, and too many distractions upon center stage for one to see or care. Thought and looked upon by most as racially motivated.  The origins of all mankind, to be left, far too far, behind. The true forsaken people. Why is man unkind.


So..........will Captain Do Gooder raise the bar to which drinks for the house, and all around, will quench the thirst felt by ninety nine percent of the people............mother knows best.   
Yet, still, self-inflicted roadblocks of appointed destiny, drop kicked long days past. Faint light shining far ahead, within the tunnel of hell, brought up to land. Firm above the depths to which it sprang. The truth of world order.  

Wait......what do we see......do our closed eyes deceive our cries........................................

We see Captain Do Gooder catching second wind. 

She breathes deep now and all can hear her war cry, no longer whimpering softly. As in past tense situations, given way to dazed and confused wall street *****es.  
She builds momentum, as our brothers and sisters lay dying and bleeding. On the streets of some not so distant for telling, of what's to be, will never not be coming full steam ahead and plowing through the hidden agenda.  One step beyond the line drawn in the sand of time, we thought would never be crossed. Give way thoughtless future tellers, and takers. Still holding firm with paper cuts, deep into the hands who printed and prepared such slave papers, kept by the elite bankers. 

Captain Do Gooder returns renewed and refreshed. Our true Mother.  
Captain Do Gooder feels strong, as bruised knees and scraped hands heal. 


Brush of destiny sweepstakes,  allots winnings of earth shaking, volcano erupting, tsunami tidal waves, with bonus draws of worldwide chaos. Future draws are to be held with worldwide winners. Grand prize, dead oceans rising.  

The next generation have no fear digest writes the next chapter. 

 
Hold the press down firmly wall street backbiting backbenchers. Drawn into the crossfire, on her mark, place the x on the next general who dares not fall into civil disobedience.  
Captain Do Gooder has grown teeth, and she is biting down hard against the line to pipe riches, spoiled from her lands. Stolen from the first pilgrimage, fifteen thousand years old, lost empire. 

How dare you steal from, and pollute the minds of her children. Yet old enough to drink and drug and die in war.  How dare all of us. 

Meanwhile back at the ranch.  Captain Do Gooder hugs tight that tree of life, to which sprang all this elbow rubbing and diversion. Wall street huddles in her corner, painted red to match the lengths to which an end will surely bring to it. 
Painted red for all to see. 
The end to friendly letter writing, give peace a chance, make love not war, generation taking a bow, and snow birding it, to false sense of security land. Like the ostrich with its head in the sand. 



Details | Haibun | |

with a kiss

with a kiss
he tasted the salt
of her tears -
guilt washed over him
at feeling spring in his veins

This was the wrong place and moment
to have such strong lust and longing.

in his periphery,
her oniisan's sen-nin-bari
hung like a limp eel from her pocket

He was filled with the shame of it all.
To hell with this sacred, imperial war.
Two years too young to serve in the munitions factories,
many years too young to join in the fray,
he spent his time
amongst women, old men,
and the dreaded kempeitai.
His thoughts felt as those of a hikokumin.

He loved his ojiichan and obaachan,
who filled in for the roles of okasan,
and an otosan whom he hadn't heard from,
since the infantryman had stormed Rangoon, four months prior.
But spending so much time around mainly women and elderly folk
can become quite depressing for a man-boy.

Juzo and Aki slipped past a crowd of women
pushing against a rations cart,
clawing pathetically for scraps of rice, powdered eggs and salted fish.
This is what Nippon had been reduced to.

The pit in his stomach widened at the thought of dishes
he used to take for granted.
What he would do for some sukiyaki, mochi,
or even a slice of kasutera.

Walking through the streets hand-in-hand,
Aki silent,
he felt the obake of shopkeepers
tending store behind boarded-up windows.

The entire city was brimming with negative thoughts,
probably partly due to the banning of the Joya-no-Kane -
what could purge the ill thoughts, now?
It felt like a pressure cooker of indecency,
steaming over into the gutters,
until even the gutters flooded,
spilling filth into the most private corners of kitchens and bedrooms.

~*~

Late at night,
when the blessing of sleep crept in,
he dreamt of food,
Joya-no-Kane,
and of Aki finally breaching his shyness,
by taking the lead....

_______________


*Glossary(in order of appearance)

oniisan - brother

sen-nin-bari - stitched, woven cloth belt used as a talisman of protection by soldiers

kempeitai - military police

hikokumin - traitor

ojiichan - grandfather

obaachan - grandmother

okasan - mother

otosan - father

sukiyaki - sweet rice wine, cabbage, noodles, carrots, tender chicken

mochi - sticky rice with red bean in centre

kasutera - sponge cake

obake - ghosts

Joya-no-Kane - in Buddhist temples, gongs are hit 108 times with a log,
                       to help purge 108 indecent thoughts.






February 28th, 2012


Details | Sonnet | |

Give me a break I am PMS ing

I may slap you, curse you, smack you
Don’t get too serious honey, its monthly fun
I am PMS ing and my trauma is true
Be my gentleman and Pass My Shotgun

I may hate your friends and knock them down
Be any handsome man or cute chick
Don’t get them here when I am around
I am PMS ing, People Make me Sick

I may laugh out loud at your silly jokes
And the very next moment won’t find them funny
That catastrophic emotional trauma pokes
I am PMS ing, its Psychotic Mood Shift honey

Every month, within me I sense this ruinous storm
It’s not me honey, this phantom is Premenstrual Syndrome


Details | Rhyme | |

----OCCUPY: The Soup -------


Infuriated by greed
so we Occupy city streets
tired of being lied to 
divided by tyranny 
of the Elites
sickened by offshore banks 
ran by gangs 
known as the Fed
while political infidelity 
shakes the White House bed

What happened to the basic foundations 
for which this nation was built?
maybe the people’s aggravations 
will identify our leaders’ guilt

No justice lies within this 
“heads they win; tails we lose”
so now we take a stand 
against their scam
because we’re through with the abuse


Details | Bio | |

hell was other...

hell was other
people’s lives, 
wayward wit and 
witless pride, 
played upon 
the green of life, 
until the light
was left to right,

hell was other
people’s thoughts,
fraught with that, 
that we applaud, 
aimless aims and 
limbless lots, 
the truth in truth 
we soon forgot,

hell was other 
people…


Details | Free verse | |

The Evolution of Learning (Part One)

It amazes me how much man has evolved
Yet, How little he has learned
All around the globe
Millions die of disease and starvation
While the ever so intelligent creature known as man
Spends millions upon millions of dollars every single day
Killing each other
Instead of finding cures for the ill or feeding starving children
Oh sure, we dabble in those efforts
But we are committed to killing each other
Governments all around the globe
Spend most of their money
On their armies
Either to defend or attack
Their enemies
Supposedly, the most intelligent creature on earth
The intellectual creature known as man
If I may go so far
Mans commitment to war and killing
Goes far beyond any one mans term in office
It goes far beyond any one mans lifetime
It goes far beyond any century or any one era
From beginning to end, top to bottom
East to west, north to south
Red, yellow, brown, black or white 
Our commitment to killing each other
Is undeniable
How can a species that is smart enough to split atoms 
Creating weapons that will kill millions
Still be stupid enough to do it?
And now I see on the science channel
That man has now devised the Platonic beam
A beam of light that just disintegrates the target in an instant
At what price you ask?
Well I don’t know but I reckon if we diverted that money
To say solar energy projects
They could probably put a solar energy system
On every home in the world for free
Thus solving the energy crisis
Not to mention food in the icebox and medicine in the cabinet
Because of course when you create such an amazing new weapon
You need an entire new type of ship to deploy it from
Thus is born the next generation of war birds
They jettison into space 
Then go into super afterburner (A jet engine minus oxygen)
Which they said would reach like 20,000 miles an hour
So you could shoot halfway around the world
Disintegrate your enemy
And be home in time for supper
I believe when speaking of politics
It’s not a National Crisis
It’s a Global Epidemic


Details | Quatrain | |

Vietnam's Unwelcome Heroes (Co-written with Tim Ryerson)

We gave Johnny a gun and a uniform
Trained him to kill, in a regiment conform
Sent him deep into Vietnam jungles warm
With little regard to how we did him harm
 
     So certain we knew what we joined to fight for
     We were shipped off to fight an unwinnable war
     A war of "containment," unlike those before
     Mothers screamed, fathers wept, siblings ached to the core
 
By parachute dropped to a ghastly death scene
Johnny ached for the life left behind, so serene
His family, fiance did not know what war means
Especially the haunting of lost children's screams
 
     Those of us who survived thought we'd just done our jobs
     We returned and were shamed by violent gobs
     Of silver-spoon white kids in hate-spewing mobs
     Spat-on and welcomed as baby-killer slobs
 
No heroes welcome would await these young men
No ticker-tape parades were staged for them
Just jeers from crowds, uncaring government
Greeted the lonely Vietnam Veteran

     Too classy and noble to demand our fair share 
     We lay in that shabby old hospital there
     In a closet-sized room with no visitors' chair
     Understaffed, underfunded, with short-handed care

The "benefits" they found would astound all now
And it leaves one to wonder how our hallowed ground
Would be filled with unnamed graves of men once proud
Before the rows of white crosses we should bow
 
     Our Wailing-Wall stands now in Washington, D.C.
     So shiny but black, a telling-tale of the fee
     We have paid for our nation, our land of the free
     Will you come pay respects? Will you not at last see?

Some veterans still suffer disgraceful neglect
So please explain who more deserves our respect
Let us pause with angelic choirs and genuflect
To show gratitude as on this Wall we reflect


Friends, Dane Ann is among those who served in the army during the Vietnam war and is 
now recovering from long-overdue hip surgery performed at an old VA hospital in 
Gainesville, Florida.  Thank you for your prayers on her behalf.  Many thanks 
to Tim Ryerson, another Vietnam veteran, for joining me in this write.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Superior Being

A Superior Being 

Mankind, the superior being roaming the earth, 
for he alone is capable of intellectual thought, 
it is instill in his or her essence from birth, 
for it is but what each one of us are taught. 

If only the reality of substance could be told, 
discerning our crude aggressive way, 
powering and enabling us to be so bold, 
while instilling us conquerors by light of day. 

If you upset or confuse us then you will die, 
for we kill out of bewilderment and greed, 
never understanding or even asking why, 
incapable of grasping the depth of our deeds. 

Subspecies live in harmony and peace, 
surviving in an orderly fashion beyond belief, 
the insects and animals kingdom could teach, 
our anguish and suffering could find relief. 

Superior does not mean intellectually bright, 
defined as controlling and dominance, 
we repeat our mistakes not seeing the light, 
sacrificing all in the name of prominence. 

Samuel E. Stone 

Copyright ©2008 Samuel E. Stone 


Details | Quatrain | |

World War

I would like to start a world war
And enter it with blindness
Attacking every country
Fully armed with kindness

I'd fly over the no fly zones
From ten thousand feet above
I would drop my greatest weapon
And splatter them with love

Medals would be given for  caring
There would be a hatred ban
And heroes would be judged
On what they did for their fellow man

The war would rage on land
In the air and on the sea
And the war would never end
Until every man was free.


Details | Lyric | |

Mockingbird Still Sings

Children sexually abused
Hiding secrets none accused 
Mockingbird still sings

False Charities stealing money
Laughing while nothing’s funny
Mockingbird still sings

Corporations shredding evidence
Seas of hypocrisy and decadence
Mockingbird still sings

Cheating partners losing trust
Teens pregnant from a night of lust
Mockingbird still sings

Rape victims ashamed to speak
Lives destroyed remaining meek 
Mockingbird still sings

Middle East raging in war
All for pride nothing more
Mockingbird still sings

Delicate babies addicts born
Crack whore moms selling porn
Mockingbird still sings

Gang bangers need attention
Killing for an honorable mention 
Mockingbird still sings

Fools and vengeance shall expire
For winds of change to transpire
While mockingbird still sings


Details | Free verse | |

My Battles As A Soldier

Streaking skyward the tracers rip
Into hanging soldiers
Falling about into mayhem
Pulsing through blood-filled ears
Hearing comrades scream
Understanding nothing
This is the war I found…

Hatred filled hardened hunter
Into smashed building
Homes pulverized rubble
Strewn about the decaying mass
The scorched metal burning
Bodies of the fallen men
The miasma of war I forever inhale…

Tigers rolling through billowed flame
Firing upon burnt battlefield blindly
Retreating in terror I leave the voices
Calling as I my boots tamp by arms
Reaching for safety I couldn’t render
Brothers abandoned in the Arnhem snow
These are the ghosts of war who haunt me….

Battle’s percussion on the horizon distant
I fade through the fields upon the Rhein
Farmhouses glow a midnight path
Walking to the beat of gun fire echoes
Off the walls of a shelter a little boy sits
Unafraid of the man feeding him chocolate
In the crater of a bomb…

This flash of hope my salvation from war.


Details | I do not know? | |

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

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



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



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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’



Mahlangu died for a cause!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




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


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Verse | |

Struggle for Freedom

Hopeless tears reign marks of 
struggle
followed by endless pain
The stigma "nigga" forever 
implanted in my DNA
From black face and sambo to 
mammy and sapphire
some still view us just the same
After years of struggle and 
progress
Not a lot has changed 

They assume stupidity just by 
the tint of my face
and because it's brown, I'm 
uneducated
a fool, a mistake
I'm the angry black woman 
that'll
roll my neck and put my fingers 
in your face
Or he's the one with the bad 
attitude 
and a gun to shoot up the place
Or the welfare queen - all she 
do is get high
Oh and he's the one that fits 
the description of that black 
guy

Still...Forever struggling for 
respect with no ideas
about what it's really like not to 
be automatically tagged 
"nigger/a"
So I stopped expecting miracles 
of blacking out racism
and continue the fight for 
freedom

Freedom from labels and 
stereotypes
Freedom from dumb ass black 
people who keep those 
stereotypes alive
Freedom from holds like hate 
and negative teachings and
Freedom from ourselves 
because some of us have 
stopped reaching
Some of us have given up the 
fight to be taken seriously
We've disgustingly lost our 
pride and our unity
We've decided to become 
enchanted with the stigma 
"nigga/er" 
so it's embedded in our DNA
Attached to more than just my 
skin
It's my soul that aches

The struggle for freedom will 
never end
Racism will never end
Until the end of existence as we 
know it
Get ready 
because all of the signs that it's 
here
Is showing 


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Rhyme | |

This Memorial Day We Salute Our Veterans

We salute every soldier who’s
 served this great nation.
And offer a heart of thanks
 and appreciation!

We salute each member 
of our armed forces.
And are thankful for their
 efforts and resources!

We salute the many who 
protect our borders too.
We’d be in trouble…  
If not for people like YOU!

We salute every son and 
daughter lost in a war.
YOU are what serving this
 country is meant for!

We salute the officers who’ve 
guided our women and men.
Our prayers are with you!  
And our love from within!

We salute our veterans!  
Wherever they may be!
Those who served on
 land, air and sea!

Offering prayer to the
 Lord is our belief…
That he will guide our
 Commander-in-Chief!

As we observe 
Memorial Day this year…
Let’s offer our soldiers
 love, hope and cheer…

May God bless them in
 all they endeavor
And his peace be with them
 today and forever!!

By Jim Pemberton  
05/21/10


Details | Verse | |

I Don't Hate America

I Don’t Hate America

I like the country I live in
That doesn’t mean I have to sing their songs
to prove that sh@!.
That doesn't mean that 
I can just can’t get over the fact that
they murdered the people who built it
 
America was dedicated to a proposition that
“all men are created equal, except
for women, indians and blacks

The white men were just fine is what we were told 
but what about those who were stolen that never made it over to NEW WORLD?
The ones that were thrown overboard and
those who died from sickness while in transport

Remember those who were born into slavery and never even knew what freedom was before their physical bodies left
and people like Thomas Jefferson
He understood that slavery was wrong but did not free his own until his death
What about those who beaten senseless and burned, and hanged,  
All while screaming “Nigger" What’s your new name?
Oh how soon do we forget…
That’s why I despise that word and
I don’t care who it is that uses it
#u$k that slavery sh@!
And #u$k that flag b@%ch!
#u$k you America because you’ve always made things hard .
So don’t look at me strange when I show those songs disregard and those fake ass patriotic undertones about how we are the land of the free
more like the land of the captured and the Home of the Slaves, see

I don’t’ hate America
I can be and do and go as I please
But, then I remember the poor people they injected with disease 
They thought they were getting free health care but the doctor is giving them syphilis 
Please! 

I remember the natives of this land
They slaughtered and labored them to work for freedom in their own land 

I remember the Civil War 
where we were a country divided by the Mason Dixon Line
The north and the south of the same country at war to save lives
 
I don’t hate America
This is my home 
But I refuse to let the things that 
my ancestors endured during the struggle of building SUCH A FINE COUNTRY be forgotten
It’s 2012 and the politicians still plottin to find a way to take away the black vote 
It’s the same shit, but now they just don’t use the noose to choke the life out of souls  
I’m so tired of the constitution and it’s loop holes, and amendments, and acts, and laws
This just proves that man can’t govern themselves because even with all these rules we constantly fall into the black hole deeper and deeper
I don’t hate America
I just choose to not take part in its little song and dance
I pledge my allegiance to God 
and continue to write and lose myself in my poetic trans 


Details | Rhyme | |

A Slavery Mentality

Believe in what I am told or what I see 
This war is bitter and I aspire to be free 
Free from these shackles and discrimination 
Free from selective elimination 
We call our children mistakes so we can free ourselves of responsibility 
And our babies are dying in the streets while we accept no liability 
Governed by aggression it’s said that only the strong survive 
But instead of showing strength we only know hostility 
Creating a place where these demons thrive 
A Child’s innocence is used for selfish gain 
So mommy can get high and feel no pain 
A child that knows no love has no true perception of reality 
And the system has no love our children are lost on technicality 
Now your babies will have babies searching for the love that they lack 
They should have had love unconditional 
But instead they turn to crack 
Because their family has made it traditional 
There is nothing like the cries of a neglected child 
Mommy is too high to provide 
Taught too young to hold it all inside 
Poison their minds with dirty little secrets they are forced to hide 
Teach them to look for nothing and that’s all you will find 
Because that is all that’s left inside 
Fill their minds with worldly possessions 
Take what you can get despite the moral transgression 
Take Godout of our schools because money is the new respect 
Craving only negative attention 
Because of the love they now reject 
First born to poverty and aware before their time 
Unable to provide life’s necessities 
They are pushed towards drug sales and crime 
Society will blame this transgression on lack of affection 
But really they are affected by lack of direction 
No money to feed the hungry and poor 
Our inspiration is music, TV, drugs, guns and war 
Poor because they have been dominated and oppressed 
Push us too regress 
Give to those who already have by taking from those who have less 
The only way to survive is to murder, hustle and deceive 
There is a better way of life 
But not a better way to make them believe 
A better way to teach us to accept this fate is what they crave 
A better way to give us the mentality of a slave 
Their methods of birth control created to control the minority 
We are now the majority 
They are scared to death we have become the priority 
Our people born of whips and chains and still left unbroken 
Fed our children’s sorrows from which we choke 
there are still too many truths left unspoken


Details | Free verse | |

If Old Men Fought

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Verse | |

Home of the Slaves

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .


The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "


Details | Lyric | |

The War Confessions

There’s a fury on the waves
A madness taking place
Fueled by the blood
Of weary wage slaves

And they taught us how to hate
In a hi tech kind of way 
Made us meat puppets 
For the wars they wage

In a playground, running round
In a playground, being clowns
Weren’t we once kids
Just kicking a ball?
Laughing ‘bout everything
Nothing at all

In a playground, ‘neath the sun
In a playground, having fun
Weren’t we once kids
Thought war is a game?
Fall over dead
And jump up again

(Hey, hey, what do you want to say?}

Don’t want to lose my legs
In defense of larceny
The banksters stealing billions 
From the national Treasury

Don’t want to take a bullet 
Left coughing up blood
For your right to a lap dance
At some faraway club

Don’t want to suck my meals
Through a thin feeding tube
On behalf of profiteers 
Dealing addicts their crude

Don’t want to wheeze harshly
Hooked to a machine
In the service of ingrates 
And all that’s obscene

Don’t want to suffer flashbacks
Those nightmarish screams
While billionaires lullaby 
To private jet dreams

Nobody’s tool, nobody’s fool.
NO!!!!

In a world so long ago
In a world we used to know
Weren’t we once kids?
Who sang funny songs
No thoughts of torture 
Phosphorous bombs

In a world so long ago
In a world we used to know
Weren’t we once kids?
Who rode on our bikes
Vampires scared us
Not nuclear strikes

(Hey, hey, what do you want to say?)

There’s a fury on the waves
A madness taking place
Fueled by the blood
Of weary wage slaves

There’s a world of growing horror
Where a playground stood before
And it ‘s time to stop
This lunatic war

There’s a world of growing horror
Where a playground stood before
And it’s time to stop 
This murderous war

There’s a world of growing horror
Where a playground stood before
And It’s time to  stop
This sickening war

There’s a world of growing horror
Where a playground stood before
And it’s time to stop 
This bloody awful war

Let’s bring back our playground 
Stop this war
Let’s restore our playground 
Stop this war…

Yes, it’s time 
(yes it’s time)

Time to STOP THIS WAR!






Details | Haiku | |

WikiLeaku

Whatever you say
Will never silence one thought...
This is modern war?

Watch the video: "About This Poem"


Details | Rhyme | |

I Hate Aunt Floe

NOTE: This poem is a humoruos stab at PMS from a mans point of view

I can see your blood boiling
through  the blades I once called eyes,
they were once beautiful  like jewels
now they hurt my deep insides.
cutting at my guts
and like a noose on my  lungs;
your words seek like bullets 
your mouth like sniper guns.
I’m hit with each inaccuracy…
Being killed by words untrue;
and you even got the nerve
to tell me what you think I do.
But let me get mad
and try to plead my case;
then suddenly the world
is a f--ked up place.
You got tears running down…
What the Hell did I do?
We were just sitting and laughing
I could swear that we were cool.
Oh God…
Oh no…;
I should have seen it… 
It’s Aunt Floe…,
This battle can’t be won or reasoned
I think its best I go.
Cause I hate Aunt Floe 
and she hate me too;
she sit and talk sh-t
about the gum I chew. 
The color of my shirt…,
She say my look is a stair;
She say my best has no worth
And she doesn’t stop there.
I didn’t change
I’ve been the same 
these 28 days,
 but now I’m f_ckin A__hole 
Aunt Floe gave me that name.  
She said get out my face 
This aint your home no more,
But I’m more puzzled by 
What was said before.
I love you 
With her glossy eyes 
I knew it was true, 
But horribly sly
You see these words
make me the fool.
The one that’s cruel
That a__hole dude,
That sparked the fuel
To this f__kin feud.
But I swear to God
I didn’t start this sh_t,
Why would I give up my love 
To live my life like in a pit.
 This is horrible sh_t 
Wasted days spent,
On nothing but the worst
I could be bathed in your sent. 
You could be laughing 
While I’m smiling
But Aunt Floe Won’t let this be,
And the only way to make this right
Is hold my tongue  a week.
And that ain’t gone happen 
I’m a person too,
Not soft
But I got feelins
and don’t know what  to do.
Now its been six days
Unbelievable  rage,
She locked herself 
In the room
I call it her cage.
I smell a sent in the air
It wasn’t there before,
Now lookin down the hall
I see an open door.
Is this a trap 
I’ll guess I’ll see,
If I fall for another
 You know that’s dumb ass me.
Curled in the bed 
I think I know that girl,
But where’s the hells Aunt Floe
The one that f__ked my world.
She packed up and gone
Didn’t even say good bye,
Just came wit gang of bullsh_t
And vanished in the sky.
Is that you my dear
Can you please come here,
Listen close and crystal clear…
I hate Aunt Floe
 Next time she here
Make sure I’m stocked
with weed and beer.
I love you punk.  ?


Details | Ballad | |

American dust off crews

American dust off crews

I served some time in Vietnam
As a medic I performed
And saw some things to make me think
As I suppose would be the norm.
But the thing that did impress me most
Were those dust off crews I saw
They hailed from the USA, did they
They were the best for sure.

They were the bravest of the brave
They seemed to have no fear
They’d go where others feared to tread
And lord, they drank some beer
So often I’d get drunk with them
We’d have a grand old time
Back there in that long gone year
Of nineteen sixty nine.

Those lads would put themselves in danger
No matter what the score
They will have my admiration
From now till evermore.
For many men were saved by them
{God bless them every one}
As we served, us our two countries
Neath that hazy Asian sun


Details | I do not know? | |

WE ARE INDEPENDENCE!

We are Tausug Nation
Defending independence
Free from the enemies
Stood not to get oppressed

Our Nation ruled
Of the country’s independence
Never conquered from then
We shall develop our land

Our country, nation is known
Home of courageous person
Bound only in one faith
Never care of the death

Tumantangis, Dahu peaks of our land
To Bagsak, Sinumaan
And to all the mountains here
Only one God is aimed

Zamboanga, Basilan, North Borneo, Palawan
Centre is in Sulu land
Ruled by the Sultan
From the early point of time

Our nation is united
In the name of faith is complete
Only God is firm
Determined not to get conquered

Land of the pearl garden
Sulu Sea in the world is famous
From the South and North
And East and West

Blood of Martyrs flowed in the vein of the Sug Nation
Fought to defend
Flag rose like Vinta strip
Eternal pledge appeared


Details | Monoku | |

untitled #1

.




                         domestic terrorism creeping
                                                     
                                                                      Violating homeland security




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Details | Burlesque | |

Suburban Spring

Suburban Spring	
(4.15.10)


	Springtime fills the air, 
			like laughing gas.
		(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
	Middle-class houses 
			are starting to dance.
		(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.

			I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
				Confused and intrigued, 
		with a slight urge to pee.

	The father cuts grass, 
			like a sleepwalker.
		(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
	A six pack later, 
			he starts washing his car.
		(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.

	The mother kneels in dirt, 
			tending the garden.
		(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty.  (Figuratively, at least.)
	A sunset later, 
			she cooks family dinner.
		(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)

			I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.

	The son plays war games, 
			dying for fun.
		(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
	A full pitcher later, 
			tweaking on sugar,
		(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.

	The daughter makes a picnic, 
			inviting her toys.
		(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
	After the tea time, 
			she's off picking flowers.
		(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)

		They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
		They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."  
			(And proceed to stuff their face.)

	The dog sits by the boy - 
			Loyal and true.
		(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
	After dinner, 
                     he offers to help with the dishes.
		(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite.  The dog is not surprised.

	Bedtime comes soon after.  
			The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
		(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
	After tucking them in, 
			the parents watch TV.
		(Or maybe they just dream they do, 
					sleeping in its glow.)

	The dog is changing channels, 
			looking for a better show.
				Confused and intrigued, 
		he pees on the carpet below.


Details | Rhyme | |

I pledge allegiance

Counterfeit in politics a prerequisite
For sale by owner, got cash, you can buy
Their influence
God Bless America and all the Capitalists
Starting vanity wars, to the public's pleasing
Forget humanity, we don't need a good reason
You've got a resource, we'll exploit
And criminalize all you endorse
Comply or die, our foreign policy
Ain't about you..it's about me!
The American dream..
Forget about your culture 
Cause it's about to get raped
Your new God's the dollar
Won't assimilate?
You just took your last breath
Suckers thinking about escape
The hypocrisy of democracy
Disguised with the mask of liberty
Cause ain't nobody here truly free
The only saving grace
Of infiltration to western waste
Is absolute power corrupts absolutely
Even residents of an establishment
For the people by the people
Have become blase
Sitting and thinking about
What would our forefathers have to say?