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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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | 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 | I do not know? | |

If your not the part of the solution your the part of the problem

I’m from the hood where the politicians don’t do squat for the poor/  
I represent the modern day Black man/ 
The Black educated politician and activist that care about only one Damn 
thing when the stuff hit the fan! 
“They Damn Self!” 
It’s like a wise man once said “Never let the left hand know what the right 
hand do” meaning keep all of the right hands right and all of the left hands 
left/ 
Ever since then the tradition has been eating off the next mans death/ 
It’s like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder whether I should go buy 
books or go buy a T.V,/Then again I wonder what’s wrong with these rap artists calling us
window 
shoppers like we nothing!  
Then them same rap artist turn around and beg us to go buy they C.D/ 
“Buy Black Owned!!” 
“Keep the Money in the Hood!” 
That’s all you hear/ 
We tried and it went/ 
Now at the same time I’m behind in my rent/ 
I hate the usage of the word Negroes! 
But when I look at these new condos being built all around Harlem/ 
I realize Negroes got a problem/ The rent not affordable/  
They go do what they wanna do/ just to get Negroes out of Harlem/ 
What happened to all the great MALCOLMS, MARTINS, and MARCUS/ 
Cause all we got now is a bunch of fake FARRAKHANS, SHARPTONS 
and BARRAKAS!/ nah just kidding!Hopefully not my last hope BARAK 
OBAMA! But I wonder when it’s all go stop!/ 
Cause when I look at my peoples now a days/ 
All I see is  
“I see DISASTER!! 
And realize “Yeah we still SLAVES”/ 
But the sad part is 
WE THE MASTER!!     (“let’s stop enslaving our selves”)  
By Lester Marrow


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?


Details | I do not know? | |

The Nameless - for South Africans of all colours who fought for freedom


The Nameless


Slipping through the sieve of history,

the nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.

Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.

The nameless rest.

Their silent sacrifice,

quiet ordeal,

muted trauma,

remain interred,

amongst their remains.

The nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.

Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.

The nameless rest.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

in every step that we tread.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

for their spirit is not dead.


“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow


Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.


My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.


Details | I do not know? | |

Some Bully Have Cars

you drive pass 
with window in car 
and yet the street 
you drive on is not your concern 

it just happens to be me 
your so dam silly 
to think you will 
take me into your Social dreams
 your just a bully 
who like to bully from a far 

but if you don't like something about me  
just stop by and hand me some of that green  
or maybe you would like to dress me 

so if you can't put your money where you mouth is 
just drive the hell on by and don't look back 

because what you see is what you get 
and i won't let someone make me feel any less
just because I haven't 
rob or killed to pay for cheap thrills
does that make me any less?


Details | Free verse | |

The Newest Old Movement

We watched Frida Kahlo 
with our backs toward the rice fields
The monkey fits tightly to her breast, 
her right breast. A parrot 
on her left shoulder; two chatter-boxes that mimic
What if the wolves pull our wool over our eyes?

In lands where barbarians sacrifice youths for takings, the woman 
that speaks like a man wears the trousers in our houses
She muddled up many sharp wits, but not mine; 
I’ve seen the Adam’s apple
Why are we standing taller than our heroes, 
and what honor is a wheel-chair to a builder?

We‘ve seen Miss Kahlo these days, she believes she can 
paint a brighter picture. Her children are media fed, 
and far from initiative; they hunger to prove Marx’s theory, 
but are scared of the manifesto and the horror 
mushroomed by the monkey and the parrot on News at Ten
In George’s house, where some acquire the taste for caviar, 
a man is understood like Fidel if he argues for an amendment

When Frida went out for tea, and Donald considered running
From behind the white wall came the joke, and the four winds
were primed to laugh.  The monkey whispers lies to Sarah, 
and the parrot is frequent on the Oprah Show, 
Oprah, like Frida Kahlo, wears testes, 
not under corset but beneath Victoria Beckham


Details | Lyric | |

The Ex-soldier

I happen upon a veteran, once,
An old man
With a four-sprang cane
And war tales
Stretched like China wall.
This event transpired in very recent past.
The man turned out to be pterodactyl
And flew away. 
I fell upon a boy, once,
A once child soldier,
A hero
Released
From youth and life.
Oh, how time has changed.
Men are taught to bicker,
Children are trained to fight. 


Details | I do not know? | |

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation



The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation


The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.


The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.








Details | Haiku | |

WikiLeaku

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

Watch the video: "About This Poem"


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

War

War today is all around
The four winds carry its awful sound
And people fight people so more men die
My only question is just why?

They have a war on terror and a war on drugs
A war on peace and even on love
And mans obsession with killing his fellow man
Is out of control all over this land

As we point our guns at our neighbour's land
Are we really so different or just like lines in the sand
Lines that shift and disappear over time
were not lines were people thats why i write this rhyme


Details | Light Poetry | |

Revised- Reflections On A Gift Of Watermelon Pickle...

That half grown chrysanthemums/
Stirring up like accuser's.
Life is compared with what two things ?
Which do you think is the richer more revealing comparison ?
Poets use many symbols/
Geese flying south can be a symbol,
Of that of approaching winter/
Heart's symbolize love,
In this brief expanse we call life,
One may want to cry out in a revolt ?
Other's simply take in a breathe of fresh air/
Ponder that many other's that don't even care ?
We all must become united in this great cause !
Not to use this concept loosely/
Yet to humbly ponder a thought,
What do you all think tells a more detailed story ?
The poem or the picture ?
Love can grow out of a billowing cry/
Perhaps a cut nor a mere stye in the eye ?
The seventies had embarked on this journey/
Not to mention that of Timothy Leary ?
This took us to a vast opened door !
To break on through to the other side/
Lest I emplore,
Still we have every bit of reason in which to grasp/
That lattice decor to that shine on the asp,
A sweet juice filled with fine honey nectar/
The future resources,
Allow the creative poet/
To begin to explore the valley of much more !
In gaining the proper word/
Fresh out of the Autumn air !


Details | Kyrielle | |

Not in God's Name

Protestant, Catholic, Mormon, Jew – 

I understand your point of view.

If you can’t mine – well, that’s a shame.

No “holy” war is in God’s name.

 

Islam means “peace”.  We all want that.

Meet the Quakers.  Be friends and chat.

Buddhist, Hindu – we’re all the same.

No “holy” war is in God’s name.

 

Jehovah’s Witness to a Sikh:

Sisters and brothers, let us speak.

It’s not a case of placing blame.

No “holy” war is in God’s name.

 

“An ye harm none, do as ye will.”

The Wiccan Rede, we must fulfill.

Let peace on Earth become our aim.

No “holy” war is in God’s name. 


Details | I do not know? | |

For Bruce Springsteen

for bruce springsteen...


it was a rain-swept monsoon day

way back then, so many moons away

when i felt the music strumming in my veins

setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins

you sang of simple truths, 

your verse spoke to people just like me

in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night

as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight

'bobby jean' spoke to me

of that girl down the street

glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet

and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart

led me down further roads of thunder

when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on

and never to surrender

to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run

while i danced in the dark 

with memories vivid and stark

even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark

and then a 'human touch' came along

and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song

and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes

as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies

in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned

as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned

and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up

working on a highway of scattered ideals

and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup

well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road

with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad

but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night

just like the ghost of that old tom joad...


Details | Lyric | |

tHE gRAVE yARD Of LoVe






                                



                                         Long love day's has past.
                                 My mind felt with howling storms,
                                 grasping to hold on to vanishing love.
                                 Rape and abandon my weary soul
                                 transpires, poring with instant fires.
                                 Oh this dark secret love does thy life
                                 destroy.
                                 Like amorous birds of pray,
                                 Once ways, and known devoured
                                 Your beauty no more to befound
                                 nor shall the sound of your voice.
                                 Love to dust, love to ashes.
                                 Our love has now gone to a private place.
                                        The grave yard of love.


Details | Lyric | |

All we want is to be famous, no matter what we are famous for, we will do it

Everyone seems happy
Everyone loves to entertain 
Everyone wants to be famous
But will you make it in this world

Pick Me Pick Me yea
im the best shot youve got
pick me pick me yea
Im nothing but a snob

A little entertainment on tv
Where you watch your kids die
The commercial reads 
Need more volunteers to get shot

Pick Me Pick Me yea
Im the best shot youve got
pick me pick me yea
please select me im hot

"It just goes to show 
that all we care about 
is getting famous
nomatter what we have to do 
we will do it
just to get noticed"

Pick Me Pick Me yea
Im the best shot youve got
pick me pick me yea
im being someone im not

Die die die die with me
because im famous now
Die die die die with me
because i want to be noticed

Pick Me Pick Me yea
Im the best shot youve got
pick me pick me yea
everyone is hollow

Pick me Pick me Yea 


Details | Rhyme | |

Drippity drip drip

Take me there I don't care Touch my hair Eat this pear!!! I am bare Want to share? Do you care? I am bear I'll let you stare Don't go there By the chair Or on that stair? Your skin is fair You look like Cher Come to my lair But pay my fare Drippity drip drip


Details | I do not know? | |

Woman's Day

Women's Day


wiping away those tears

of the brutal truths of your past

wiping away those tears

your spirit rises up, far beyond your scars

and your strength resides deep within you 

with an unshakeable resolve that shall forever last


...the weakened men whose brute force is so macho and empty 

and that has always been in your face

are now nothing but specks of aging, obsolete rust

flitting past you, for you hold it all together

as you always have 

rising up firm and strong from being shoved into the dust


...you are a mother, a lover, a daughter, a wife, and a worker ... above all a worker you have been

tying the loose ends together time after time

always there 

yet unseen


...a woman you are 

of fibre 

of courage

of being the bedrock on which we trample 

on whose shoulders this world stands

as you continue to work ceaselessly on

with lines on your face

and with raw wounds on your hands

but...

now your time has come

and no longer will you silently bear

the jabs and taunts of men

for now you proudly declare

that a mother am I, a daughter too, a lover and a wife as well

and now the time has come for them to awaken

to the tolling a new bell


...a bell that tolls for you

for you have taken back the pride and dignity that they stripped off you for ages

for now theirs is a lost cause while your battle still defiantly rages

through cities and homes and villages 

and in town after nameless town

for now the bell has tolled

and the time has passed for you

to be ever
again
put down


Details | Free verse | |

The Drone

 You use it every day.
 It is a basic part of life now.
 Maybe it’s the flicker of the radio
 Or the buzz of a computer.
 It is used every day to make our lives simpler and less stressful. 
 Is it really helping us though?
 It does make our life simpler
 But is this a downward spiral into emotionless and effortless life?
 A life where instead of real soldiers with real emotions
 are sent to fight,
 A drone controlled by someone at a computer is used to kill innocent civilians. 
 The drone is emotionless.
 No compassion for other beings and no feeling of guilt or regret.
 This is the future,
 an emotionless drone controlled by someone at a computer. 


Details | Free verse | |

Sobibor

We ride the cattle rail  Not knowing exactly what lay ahead. For weeks there's 
been no heat,  No bathrooms and we've barely been fed.  We arrive at our 
destined location.  Sobibor...Sobibor...Sobibor,  Is the death camp for Jews.  
Opening widely, the gate to Hell  With train whistle loud and prolonged, News of 
our arrival they tell.  Orders given, the boxcar doors open.  The air so fresh, the 
pines are livid.  Decisions to make.....What to do?  What to do?  Tailors, 
seamstress', blacksmith, carpenters  Are there any?  
Volunteers?...Yes...No ...Good decision, bad decision?  Shouted at, screaming, 
people being beat  Kept others orderly on their march.  Houses with names, 
gardens with flowers, and Signs pointing to canteen and showers.  Sobibor 
seemed peaceful, not a place of murder.  To the Ukraine to work you will go.  
Because of lice, Women need their hair to go.  There are epidemics, You must 
be disinfected.  Naked and unaware of the lies, They each take the walk Through 
the tube-"Road to Heaven".  The screaming strong at first,  Weakens gradually 
until it dies.  Why?...Why?...Why?...You say.  Why don't you fight back?  Pick up 
that gun, shoot that guard!  That would lead to your death plus as Many others 
they could hack.  Why don't you escape?  Where would I go?  Here I have no 
home, no family. ..It is cold.  I have no warm clothes or shoes...I am on the verge 
of starving.  What will I eat?  How do I get through the mine fields?  How do I get 
through the armed Poles in the forest?  We do revolt... the camp as a whole.  
Sasha, the Soviet prisoner of war... A new leader... good for our soul.  He gave us 
some hope.  We were working class people, Everything was taken from us.  We 
were cold.  We were hungry.  We were beaten.  We were killed.  We lost all hope.  
Oppression lets genocide happen.  Genocide has happened in the past. 
Genocide is happening now.  Genocide will happen in the future.  Greed and 
power can and does lead to genocide.  Only policy makers worldwide...God 
willing, Can help stop the killing.





Details | I do not know? | |

For our Father, Nelson Madiba Mandela

For our Father, Nelson 'Madiba' Mandela

you are our eternal inspiration

our hopes
our dreams
our conscience

you gave everything of yourself
so that we may live and love and laugh and dream and breathe the air of freedom, dignity and liberty

you lead us through the darkest days with your unshakeable principles and your belief in us

you brought peace and freedom to us

and when at times we felt all was lost

you stayed with us as a father would

you lent us your wisdom
and you chastised us too

and we are here today because of you
you stayed with us, Nelson Rolihlala 'Madiba' Mandela, through all the crests and valleys of our turbulent times

you stayed with us, father
today, we hope and pray and wish
that you, our father Madiba
stay with us still
stay with us, Madiba
stay with us...


Details | I do not know? | |

Why Should We Live?

Why should we live if we have 
nothing to live for?
Why should we live if we have
nothing to die for?
Why should we live if 
no one cares?
Why should we live if you're
loved by no one?
Why should we live if no
one likes you?
Why should we live if 
no one loves you?

Each day is just a day
Each day is a day closer to death.
What's the point of living?
Some may say none,
Others may say why.
Why should we live?
Tell me and I will think about your answer.


Details | Didactic | |

Silent Conversation Of Two Wounded Soldiers

Motherland
is ruined to ground and I’ve only an hour or less 
to spend my life. 

The enemy of my people, a bit stronger 
and seems happy to have more time 
to live his, stands before me.

I always thought that great Allah 
was with me; I’m a faithful Muslim. He is 
a devoted Christian. I saw him, ere we exchanged 
bullets of anger, intently calling to his 
Father (household name of his so called God)

Now, we’re slaving ourselves, thinking. 

With our guns pointing at each other, 
would he let me live, or would I let him go?  

Ah, what are we goin’ to do with our short 
remaining breath, continue killing each other 
or mend our wounds?

Or, should we still ask the god(s)
to solve these issues at hand?


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

the revolution will be televised

drive-by shootings, domestic violence plus total social anarchy
judges on the take, lawyers on the down-low and police brutality
where is the peace? where is the love? why can't we all get along?
they want to take God out of everything, why can't they see that's what's wrong?
the media is chocked full of atrocities, yet many people seem surprised
that in today's immoral society, the revolution will be televised

the state of the union, the state of the state, and the state of every city
we have global warming, urban sprawl and the mass cross-cutting of trees
nations are starving, the people are dying and genocide is on the up-rise
everyone has a camcorder or cell phone and the revolution can be televised

the rich just get richer, the poor get poorer and there's no longer a middle class
homes in foreclosure, rent is sky-high just how long will this madness last?
the devil is trying to take over everything, yet no one seems to realize
that we are playing right into his hands while the revolution is being televised


Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

Shush

World keeps to turn on,
we are born and die,
dawn comes as night ends.
death reigns in all spots
of this poor, old land.


Time takes big paces,
we don't learn parts,
in things that change
the world and life


My minds stuck,
hands are tied,
they are quiet


Tell me
what's right

Shush!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Distant Warrior

I get this wondrous chill as night falls
in mountains or desert sand
and I find myself dreaming about
home, my fondest memory
from this far away land.

I miss the special lady who 
stole my heart, my thoughts
and all there is of me;
and I deeply cherish 
our final moments together.

I think about the children 
I left behind, how I miss them 
and pray they’re  fine -
and it’s hard Lord,
it’s so very hard.

It’s times like this that I wonder
why I volunteered and I
get this knot in my stomach -
then I cringe and find myself 
trying to hold back tears.

Soon the battle will begin
when I’ll hear my own heartbeat
through the creepy sounds 
amidst treacherous mountain sides or
drifting sands and whirling winds.

It’s  time spent in worry,
fear, and some regret
as I encounter my fate
in the war so near
and I must admit, I’m scared.

This stench of war, 
the sight of it all,
it’s that awful image
of how I imagined hell
after Lucifer’s fall.

I wonder to myself,
“Does it have to be
that generations of people 
can’t seem to agree 
to the simple concept of peace?”

Soldiers don’t start wars
but they surely fight them,
making all manner of sacrifice
and I doubt that even once
did a soldier ever like them.”

Then I think of  “Old Glory”
and I’m filled with pride.
It’s a warm patriotic feeling
which overcomes me
from deep down inside.

I’m confused, scared
and battle weary.
I worry about those I love
as I cling to my faith  
and pray to God above.

I’m a distant warrior,
an American fighting man;
not an aspiring hero,
but just a simple soldier 
trying to do the best that I can.


Details | Verse | |

After The War

After the war
I heard a third last sound of explosions
boooOOOOOOoo!
Later that I heard a boisterous laughter
bwahahahahahahaa!
I sensed their bullet was successful
I firstly heard a sound of a helicopter
tocotocotocotocooo!
And then saw a parachute coming towards us
I knew this was our Lt General
And was come to release the slaves
We knew how refugee camp peace programs
Would contribute to post-conflict peace building strategies
But was shocked by the calm revenge and destruction
Of all the properties, love, faith and all children we had
Better we all join hands and battle away this war within us


Details | Free verse | |

The Lie

Lying under oath
With an American pin on their shirts
They wave the US strategy
Dance ‘n Killing and Smiling

They plunder our economy
Using the propaganda to show nothing is wrong
The fox is in their bed to fill the illusion
It’s hiding behind the bush to prevent the truth from showing

And the hounds are on the chase
Get out those guns he yells fight for democracy
With a Sieg Heil under their breath
They emulate what was long ago

Listen closely to their words and phrases
Homeland security is a neo-nazi face
It induces post World War 2 Hitler’s German race
Roves descendents created the cinders of Auschwitz’s

Eugencies are alive and well in hiring questionnaires
They want to know how you think
They want to know how you’d react
They twist your mind to test your reasoning

We need true bloods to defend our way of life
He rally’s the crowds enticing the young
You can come home soon when the job is done
I’m sorry, I don’t have a date 

Because the democrats wont give me the money
to hold Iraq into a prison state. To fund the war  
you see where not invaders were liberators
it just looks the same

I have asked for a simple resolution
An agreement without strings attached
Without an ending date to pull the troops out
Why cant the democrat’s compromise

Why is it they don’t understand?
That our solders are there to defend the American land
To trick and sway
Dictatorship! Through democracy is the only way.


Details | I do not know? | |

Poison

It seems as if the
World has gone insane,
 Spreadable poison through
Everyone's brains.
 We can try to save the one's not effected,
But there would be no use.
 The same Diseased Poison,
Will soon control you.
 Bring your masks,
It's spreading through the air,
 The truth in it all is that
We could all stop it,
 But we can't do it alone,
And too many people,
 Xx Just Don't Care Xx


Details | Light Poetry | |

Kindness is a Virtue

Who are and who is my friends or acquaintances, confusing everyday
but today I have found my self to walk a path that is not so rough
I became so blinded to have friends that it pains me anyway
They take a simple kindness and think that I am not tough
so by deliberately challenging me to act like nothing happens I grow bold
Wake up you! and all the rest, I have something to say
I don't like this feeling of regret or sorrow so please do not take me cold
as a friend you should know to not take advantage of my kindness in away
A storm is blowing inside my soul burning a hole in it so
lightning is striking in methods unknown for in the distance thunder you hear
Some of the greatest warriors fall with great weapons of bow
antics that slaughters such feebleness as cowardices use an unseen spear
To let one know that your feelings are clear do not hesitate
to do so shows fear and that is one thing that can determine your choice
With kindness in your corner you should easily win and that will be great!
In the end you can hold up a drink with friends and smile and rejoice


Details | Light Poetry | |

Born into lies, Die fighting for Truth, Live Forever

See you lady's are really dudes, male energy oozes from the paths you choose. 
You see straight lines to your end, and you believe it ends there with ONE life to attend. 
Just understand that world is so lonely, but as a whole you and the other boys won't be the only
To cross over confused, by only yourself and YOUR CHOICE to be used.
See the "rulers" of this world had plans to keep us hiding, for a "better" perceived earth or calming home to reside in.
And they have succeeded as the blind don't wish to see, nor asking a ****ing question to an alternative degree.
Emotions run the world but ya'll think its money, government made bills too huh? now aint that *****funny. 
And they prescribe medicine for every condition, thats just regulated murder with your own permission.
And the "leaders" pay for "news" so you don't go knowing, the truth about nature or where we are growing
Its sad you say that we're babied by the kings, you're bombarded by conspiracies for every single thing.
Now if I give you a secret you promise you can keep it? Its a doozy so make sure you can read it.
The same people who control you and kill all our families, and lie to our faces from cities to shanty's, and make all the rules that you're forced to live by, and keep ALL the money we've worshipped to get by....
WE ARE THE ONES WHO GAVE THEM THE POWER, AND WE CAN TAKE IT BACK AT ANY GIVEN HOUR!


Details | Free verse | |

poem

rest in peace?


they ordered him to kill 
several men
- and gave him several medals
when he decided
love another man
- gave him several stabs





from Baba de Moço, second edition, 2012.


Details | Rhyme | |

Hey Mr Universe

Hey Mr. Universe

Hey Mr Universe, My Heart is so sad, Has everyone in this world gone mad!
So much destruction all over the nation, Whole countries suffering Death and Starvation.
What has happened to cause all this pain?That people kill for power and gain.

A human life was once a precious gift, But the world’s leaders are causing a rift,
Amongst their own people, amongst their own kin, When will they realise to kill is a sin.
Despair and hunger go hand in hand, What happened to tilling, and feeding by hand,
Not drilling for oil, Or killing for spoil.

Where can it lead? There are people to feed, 
but no! They want power, Don’t they know poor people cower,
Down to extremists, religion, dictators, Where’s all this damage going to take us?

Nature will fight back, she knows she is owed, Floods, earthquakes, tsunamis, Volcanoes ready to explode.
Each country has suffered, but people look away, Some try to help, but sometimes there’s no way.
We all once were brothers, not separate, not others.
Something terrible’s happened for life to be lessened.

Taken for granted, rich people play, Whilst poor people shrink into nothing each day.
What does the future hold for us all? If we ignore all the signals, we’ll all surely fall,
The balance is threatened, so called progression, We worry each day and talk of recession.
Whilst elsewhere it seems there is deliberate ferocity, Killing and maiming just two such atrocity’s.
Dignified people these nations once were, Now only murder and genocide occur,

What must they think of their fellow man, Letting their children die while they can,
Do something to help them, there must be a way, Help us, please help us do something today.
Before Mr. Universe looks down on us all, And tells us and shows us, we’re all going to fall,

The rich and the famous, the mighty, the poor, Will anyone be here after the mighty core,
Has exploded, imploded, and waged its own war, Upon mankind as a whole, the great Gaia takes its toll,
Ferocious anger will be released, no humans able to stop this mighty beast,
Save our people, before it’s too late, Help us to save them and all will abate!  



Details | Couplet | |

So Many

Don’t go I heard her cry,
From a door that was kept ajar.
The message very poignant,
Knowing how many had gone before.
Then given that we make a choice,
So who are we to say?
Across our small blue planet,
Would this happen anyway.
Souls and there are many,
Sacrificed in freedoms name.
Lay on the battlefields altar,
To justify, another’s gain.
We all must share the burden,
For who is there to blame.
Given the point, from their perspective,
From our view, would be the same.


Details | Free verse | |

My Dream

Lo, I have laid my hopes on this rare Earth,
that all men will know nothing but love and compassion.
Never to know hate or prejudice,
but forever enveloped in the cloak of freedom and peace.
Never to tread on the life giving ground with boots of war,
but to walk barefoot on the sandy beaches and grassy valleys of the mountains. 
Where happiness springs forth from each person’s heart as pure water from a snowy brook,
and washes away any tears of regret.
To finally build that paradise that we have so longed for,
in our hearts, to be share with the world.
May your anger and hate become love,
your jealousy to happiness
and your fears to knowing.
Never to forget that we are all connected,
and we must work together to bring peace and harmony to our world.


Details | I do not know? | |

They Left so Abruptly

They Left so Abruptly

(for the countless South Africans, of all colours, who dedicated their lives for freedom and democracy)

the valiant ones
countless
many known
many more nameless

the truest sons and singers
husbands and poets
lovers and wives
daughters and farmers
workers and sisters
brothers and friends

they left so abruptly
with quiet pride
steely courage
gentle dignity

they left so abruptly
leaving us our tomorrows
brighter
hopeful
filled with promise

they left so abruptly
so that we may breathe
the breath of liberty
the air of freedom
the warmth of justice

they left so abruptly
leaving with us their parting gift

freedom
inkululeko
swatantrata
liberte
azadi
vhudilangi
libertad

they left so abruptly
yet we remember them all
today
in the days that slipped away
and in the many more that we await

they left so abruptly
yet they remain
hewed into our memories
etched in our consciences
engraved in our hearts
they left so abruptly
and yet they endure
with us
within us
now and forever more


Details | Rhyme | |

Vision

It is the end of day
And the ending of days
The cheese runs away
And the atheist prays
Just over broke
The leash takes the strain
It is mist not smoke
Free speech used in vain.
And here broken beasts
To dejected pastures go
And where the jackal feasts
In vain the white of snow.


Details | I do not know? | |

I Want to Walk with You

I Want to Walk with You
 
I want to walk with you with our heads held high
Never cowering, never with heads bowed
With our feet on this blessed soil, and our dreams reaching for the sky
 
Dreams of simple joys and of peace and of mirth
For all our fellow travelers on this delightful earth
 
Dreams not of wealth or of positions of high standing or of mighty power
Simple dreams of a walk in the aftermath of a Johannesburg evening rain-shower
 
Dreams of bread and water and dignity and shelter and clothes for all
Dreams where all fellow travelers may together walk this earth proud and tall
 
I want to walk with you, my fellow traveler, with our heads held high
Never pandering to power, never silent in the face of its abuse
Always firm in our convictions that we can all make peace if we only try
 
If we try to stop and think and sometimes not to look the other way
If we practice what our different creeds really teach, we will surely see that day
 
When we all, fellow travelers may walk with our heads held high
Never cowering, never with our heads bowed
With our feet on this blessed soil, and our collective dreams reaching for the sky
 
Call me silly, call me naive, call me hopeless, and if you must, call me weak
But is this not the common good that our different creeds and cultures all seek?
 


Details | Free verse | |

No Time for Art

There is no time for art
Where bullets fly
And screams of fear replace song
Even the birds are quiet
But to an artist, this is an ever evolving gallery
Where the shells, explosions, fires and bullets
By the craters, bullets holes and charred buildings
Become one abstract sculpture
Carved by destruction
As if to say
The soldier is an artist
Who paints in blood
And war itself, is art.


Details | Rhyme | |

Our politicians

Our Politicians
They speak like politicians
And hold a great ambition.
They think they are right
And same speech they recite.
They always gather for a bite
Deciding who should start the fight.
All have their own stations
To be the victims of cremation.
They gather their own crowd
Who cheer and clap to any sound.
They think they are right
Only here for a bite.
They speak like Aristo
And act like Montecristo!
They smoke big cigars
And all drive tinted cars.
They dress in glitter
And all have Twitter.
They act so polite
But hardly can write.
Always in action
Only during the election.
To make a collection
Or a connection.
O What a time you feel like 
Committing a crime.

For a brief background about this poem, pls, read the poem (Beirut).


Details | Blank verse | |

keystone cops

Keystone cops 

Time square, New York everything happens here
a man wanted to kill the one who had him fired,
and did… great consternation.

New York finest came opened up fire against
the killer who wasn´t shooting at them and wasn´t 
asked to drop his weapon.

In the busy square the blue dressed defender
opened up fire… rightly perhaps… but the result was
one dead killer and nine wounded bystander. 

Mayor Bloomberg came on the spot. He looked 
furious, as he might, a blunder, but for luck, may
easily ended with people killed by the police.

One can only assume that police shooting wildly 
about acted without assessing the happening,
in cases like this a gun is not enough. 
  


Details | Free verse | |

Breakfast time and a bowl of cereals

Waking with a start,preparing to face the end
eating next to nothing,cracking the bottle of optimism.
Life looked away in revulsion as the villainies committed
and lost into the book of vanity.
With the naked eye i see the world every morning,revolutionized
but big words puff me up as thought i was you.
A jarring note,a shot of morphine and get out of the rut
a perjury of illusion,the only blemish on your face.
I was deceived into the belief of something invisible.
Swashbucklers,mock heroics,phony patriots and cells
that proliferate so rapidly.
Populous mash potatoes,the decomposition of the corpse,
i can't take much more.
Filth has no sense of delicacy,i never boasted that
and the inanity of convenience put a bullet through my head again
So i open the window of pessimism.

We live with the manners of a swine,
enough to keep body and soul together.


Details | Cinquain | |

Attack

Attack
Vaguely warlike
Guiltless people suffer
Dreadful losses, heroes arise
Assail


Details | I do not know? | |

War on Humanity

All over the globe the number of dead are increasing
A bomb here, a bomb there, its no more surprising
Few faces of evil and cruelty
Seem to be creating havoc for the majority
None seem to be spared
In their success to spread hatred

No more shall the mind be without fear
A blast or killing could happen anywhere near
No more shall there be a welcome smile to a stranger
As the scared mind would signal a danger
No more elation at a fire cracker bursting
As the mind would say it could be a horrible bombing
If allowed to spread their sinister tentacles
The terrorists would create an unwanted spectacle

No more shall we have
The cool breeze from the wonderful seven seas
No more shall we have
The dazzling vibrant colours of the rainbow
No more shall we have 
The smell of peace from the seven continents
The hanging sword of terror shall only leave 
Barren land surrounded by repelling red blood coloured sea.

The news show sight of woman, orphaned children crying
Without a fault their innocent relatives are dying
“War against terror” !! Seems big lies
as people see only hardships, suffering and cries
All we see is the drying up of tears from their eyes
But wonder, when and how they would again start their lonely lives?

Why is there no war against poverty
Why no war against illetracy
Why no one to fight the war against hunger
And why no one to fight War on AIDS, the biggest danger
Why are they using their ability
To fight this WAR ON HUMANITY.

I close my eyes to say a prayer to God
Give them some sense, oh lord!!
To those who have treaded on a wrong path
WAKE UP!! Stop this horrible blood bath
Please give up hatred, stop this revengeful dance
I plead, Please give peace atleast one last chance…..


Details | I do not know? | |

Blasphemy

Blasphemy

The caustic tongues of the evangelists,
Across all creeds and faiths,
Seem as brittle as an old bone.

For they promise heaven and they spew forth threats of hell
While neglecting the words of that man who walked in Galilee

'let him who is without sin, cast the first stone'

the caustic tongues of the evangelists...

across all religions
new-age and the ones of old
baffle me even as I hear
a single simplistic sermon

for they really do, view us all
as blind imbeciles
scurrying around like faithless vermin


the caustic tongues of the evangelists...

wag on and dazzle us with visions of an eternal paradise
while here and now
their hypocrisy festers
within their earnest
well-meaning eyes...


'...dil mein hai khwaaish-e-hoor-o-jannat
aur zaahir mein shauk-e-ibaadat
bas hamen sheikh-ji aap jaise
allah-waalon se allah bachaaye...'


'...in your heart you desire the maidens of heaven
yet in the now you practice the rituals of piety
o' sheikh, may allah protect me
from the people of allah like yourself...'

is my tongue as caustic as the tongues I write about?
if so, then glad am I
for they shouldn't be the only ones
who preach and rant and continually shout

from their pulpits ever so high in the sky
from their hubris of comfort in possessing the 'truth'

from their 'knowing' that heaven or hell
awaits both the strong as well as the meek

while oblivious to the reeking foul smell
that encourages prejudice and hate
and visions not of peace
but of endless chants and prayers

which they, in their opium haze
rattle on and on
as they never seem to cease to speak

and though I’m sure that all this bile that I have spewed
will threaten
hurt
and offend

friend and
unfriend and
acquaintance alike

but...

take pity on me instead
for it'll surely be I
who'll burn eternally
impaled by a benevolent god
on a slightly warmer than normal day in hell

on a crude wooden spike.


Details | Rhyme | |

Tottenham to Toxteth

Let loose the whip
and tighten the lip
with its reasons for humble cause.

And I'm alight in darkened entries
shrugging my shoulders to warm
my picked pockets with another's
shoes.

Burning down the towered clouds
for the gas chamber streets,
why burn the bills
whilst flesh is still flamable?

And the crier rang out silently.
Could only make out the action,
of something she was trying desperately
the reasons of the destraction.

"You're too blind to make out colours
which have mixed to make brown.
Just a human illusion
of light under cover of sound."

The cobbles are disrupted
and yet its just another cup of tea
to watch on with, pathetically.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Thirteenth Fable

 Thirteenth Fable 
Thirteenth Fable 
 
Superstition 
 
Fables of CharlaX 
 
There is far too many to make a short list there is superstitions eye remember 
when eye was just a kid. The many things my girlfriends had to tell me things 
they ruined life at such an early age there is the BROKEN MIRROR that brings 
the SEVEN YEARS bad luck? The black cat crossing my path. The ladder that 
was never under the beam do not step under that in a funk of disbelief eye did all 
them things and now eye am homeless could it be that eye am superstitious or 
just unlucky in my life but then eye have met my violet flower my only one and only 
new life partner she is such a wonderful person not a superstitious reason in her 
curtain eye am certain of that now? The cat was never black enough to scare me 
but there was that just one time? It ran of course because my petting would have 
kept it from the dinner the mouse tail sticking out of a very black and ebon mouth. 
No bad luck can come to me AH HA eye cried its nothing. Then eye ran a little up 
the hill to home. And almost strangeld self eye ran full tilt boogie into the wire 
clothes line nearly taking off my head and losing all the dread of dying for there it 
nearly was. That was back in 1961 the time is not important there was never any 
time for love. Some things eye can remember but choose not to keep at all. Do 
not mop the floor under my feet is one. 
Do not make such sweeps under my feet and yes we did we told the girls to put 
the feet up so we must seep there anyway do you want me to get fired from such 
an important job as this one? 
They screamed and left the diner sure that bad luck was to come upon them oh 
gentle reader ewe don't laugh Erline never sweeps behind the counter. 



Details | Free verse | |

Sanguinary Lord

A severe façade of loving tolerance Dipped in an argentine semblance The Consuls of The Cross Weaving a sweven of Welkin Where the checkered ones Are never allowed Their souls cast into the flames Of a greater decay The never ending pit Of eternal torment You turn the other cheek The one that wields the clandestine dagger The dreams of being free grow lighter and light The truth is shrouded by sister-Night Clinging onto existence Never eluding the resistance I will never adhere To your Sanguinary Lord Bestowing The Crusader’s reign Against the sand and the desert’s wane Barraging him over the frame In desperation to appease Screaming and shouting I will wash away your sins Decadence of the ones to throw the stones The ones to enforce the book Has left your lies dry and ready to die No more tears are left to cry No more screams are left to scream No More blood to be split No more graves to be dug


Details | Free verse | |

COLOURS OF DESPAIR

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 | Narrative | |

Balance Within

Introduction: Even if you're tied to barely holding on, your control over will power shall pull you up towards the truth and success. But only if you believe up to all, that it's stronger than what you could be - that's when you balance the fall...




You may get old
Your memories may drown,
But your soul won't get cold
And beliefs won't breakdown.

Just don't you let go
As you never know,
Things you seek for all your years
They could be in your back yard.

Find the truth within the lies,
Fight your pride to end this cry,
Trust your soul; open the door
Balance yourself and roll the stones.

The one's you heart will always stay
So don't throw life out your doorway,
Life's too short and it's too real
Sometimes it's hard to see and feel

That's how you live a life,
The risk that breaks you down to bits
Saves and brings you back alive,
That's what we call the gift of life.

No matter how rough things might get
We get rewards for the risks we take,
No matter how hard or sad
Learn and value what you have.

Though, too much pride will leave you dried
Don't let 'hopeless', be your life's stride,
None of this will you take to grave,
Your deeds will lay, only your pave.

As you breathe in and do breathe out,
Make each one profound
And stand your ground,
As lies are just the fantasy,
The truth - is your ecstasy
And this will forever be plain to see... 


Details | Elegy | |

The Truth About Paradise

I used to think we lived in a world
With nothing at all to fear.
I used to believe we lived in a land
So perfectly crystal clear.
Away from sadness, away from anger,
Away from the clutches of hate.
I used to be full of innocence
Back when I was eight.
Now my best friends are both anorexic
And one's been raped four times.
And that girl who's aunt and uncle beat her?
She's a friend of mine.
I know a boy whose mother uses
His disabilities and disorders
To abuse him without touching him
In ways not against the law.
And his stepfather helps her do this to him
Because he's far too much in love
To realize that what they're doing
Is just morally wrong.
I have a friend who's terrified
For her father's life
Because she never knows when she'll find
That he's been killed in the strife.
It's a war of many, a war of hate,
And, sadly, for some people, fun,
And the only thing harder than being a soldier,
I've found, is loving one.
But no matter how many times people say
That they're glad there's only one war
There are many unacknowledged wars.
Just walk through your own front door.
I used to think our world was
A wonderful paradise.
Now I see that there's far too much
That's covered up in life.


Details | I do not know? | |

You've Already Lost

Gonna make it plain and simple
gonna want you to see
I know you don't understand riddles
so I'm gonna make it easy
this one sided war your fighting in
is just a waste of time
I'm gonna win
its written in rhyme
you cant compete with my words 
for you have nothing to say
and when your talking behind my back
here's what you should say;
She wont talk to me
she wont give me the time of day
she wont fight back
she's got words in cyber space
sex is all I offer
what do I have to say?
my question to you is; 
when was this about winning?
when did it turn into someone losing?
your world revolves around picking fights
I guess that's what you get when your empty inside

I wont compromise who I am 
what I have fought for 
where I come from
all for the sake of fighting you
I have better things to do 
than waste my time on you
you don't get my power 
or my rage
just a little letter here on a page
don't get to see me dishonor my age
24 I am 
but I have years on you
and with that comes happiness
a peace you never knew
I wont fake a smile
and laugh at your jokes
I have more to say than OMG
what really does that even mean
or call you "baby" and "hun"
that is just two faced 
forces sugar in someones mouth
when I say those words 
they're for a special person
not just another face
I wont be the girl 
with two big fake floats 
cant give plastic surgery to your brain
or lipo suction your head
cant go to a salon 
and change the color of your heart
when you look in a mirror 
and the breasts deflate
cancer ridden on your skin from all the fake bake
what will you have to win your wars
who will have you then 
when your lies cant be covered with beauty and sin
and your ugly personality is also what you wear
no more makeup to cover you there
your air head will pop
and in the end
left with scattered brains on a forgotten rock
out in the rain

So a war of words
girl I'm ready
cause I know your heart is empty
you cant fight me here
our leagues are in different fields
so pack your bags 
and pick up your heels
go pick on someone as equal as you
then win that war
cause here you've already lost 


Details | Free verse | |

THE GOOD THINGS ABOUT THE REPUBLICANS

I watched the Debate
between Obama and Romney;
I am kind of liberal and fair:
and I listened to both sides.


The Republicans favor broad tax cuts,
the Democrats are opposed. 
As far as prayer in school is concerned,
I favor the Republican Party...
giving some regard to the existence of God....
we can't become a nation of Atheists!


The Democrat Party demands
a specific deadline for the withdrawing of troops from Iraq
and Afghanistan...and isn't that great news for every soldier 
to be coming back home soon?

 
One last comment on abortion:
Republicans are pro-life,
but Democrats are pro-choice...
and for this reason I should vote Republican!


Details | Lanterne | |

GLOBAL VILLAGE CONFLICT

A
battle
of ethics-
ideas at
war


Details | Prose Poetry | |

LOVE ON DEATH LINE

I have not eaten today,
But my heart is filled
Not hungry of affection.
I had a fill of you last night
A fill of you for a life time

All around us are walking corpses
Corpses of political disregard
Humans of no nations
Even when they are bona-fide citizens
Your blood and mine flows in them

The government abhors the poor
Feeds them with empty promises
Shoves them through the door
They pay the bills
For social amenities they can’t find
Pay taxes for their castles 
Government built in the air
But we know their ancestors
Filthy dogs eating from the king’s crumbs
No; Lets not unknot the knot
Soon a messiah might heed us

In heaven’s book of life,
I heard the poor names are there
In here’s book of life
It is deleted.
Thus, in your head,
Lays your kingdom and glory 
Get rich or die trying
Or; be their poor and keep sulking.

Well, like them I saw… 
I have not eaten
Flesh gone weak to skeleton
Nevertheless, 
The solitude of love within
Keeps me living; I am breathing
But I am moving,
Towards your direction
I see your beam

I feel new
When I see you
From my heart 
Seeps through the rays of the sun
Its fun; this love on death line
We survived the genocide
We survived the war
We survived love
We survived us
I love you too.

This poem is dedicated to the abused tribes of Rwanda and Nigeria during their respective civil wars resulting in near human annihilation. Though time has passed, we still feel your pains chilling our bones. The survivors.


Details | Verse | |

Point of view

I,my eye,saw a good man doing some thing evil,
out of love...
i saw a "big bad man" give food to his family..
selling drugs...selling drugs
and when he got arrested all his daughter really wanted
was to give a hug...give a hug
"mr.goodguy" bought a gun and started acting like a thug...kinda like a thug
*sirens*
dang...bang,bang
a rookie cop noticed they were both the same "maine",man...
put his mug shot all in the news,and the networks...
got 25 views...
the judge said "who is this young man to you?"
his daughter screamed out "let me go,thats my daddy"
"rookie cop" mumbled,"bastered..almost had me"
they threw the book at him while he took "the time",sadly 

amen??


Details | Verse | |

Holocaust

So discreet the deceit is complete.
In the street no one knows how it goes
till it shows, way too late, no debate.
Sealed our fate with a pen and men.

They would come for some in the slum,
Playing dumb, we defend not a friend.
In the end no one’s here, shed a tear
to fear, when it’s you in view.

Train ride to genocide, go inside,
bodies fried, tombs to share the stinking air,
bones are bare, burnt skin sags in body bags,
soldier gags, guts spill, vultures fill.

A case the human race can’t face,
in a place close to war, the whore.
The infected sore on our back we attack
till we crack, giving in to the sin.


Details | Free verse | |

Much Like the Sun.

 You look up to the sky.
 It is a normal summer day like any other.
 Sparse clouds line the sky and the sun beats down on you.
 Except this is no ordinary summer day.
 This is the day you ship out.
 You have said your good byes and cried with your lovers.
 The weight of your country rests upon your shoulders.
 It beats down on you much like the sun. 
 It burns you if you are not properly prepared,
 much like the sun.
 Much like the sun you are depended on by all that you known.
 Depended on by your country.
 Much like the sun,
 you fade away into the night appearing in a different country


Details | Lyric | |

Baby Soldier (Ethnic Cleansing)

Someone tell me where we are

not all that close, not all that far

Marching feet and distant drums

but I can't see where they come from..

Baby Soldier with angry eyes

filling empty space with hate

for fat old men made fat on lies

it's not your fault..........it's just your fate

Baby soldier

Slaughter in the market place

You heard their cries, you saw their face

How then can you sleep at night?

How dare you say, "everything alright"

Baby soldiers with empty eyes

empty minds refilled with hate

for fat old men made fat on lies

while baby soldier licks the plate

Baby soldier

Dancing in a rain of fire

Just one more death for your empire

but baby soldier dies alone

his soul is gone his heart is stone

Baby soldier with empty eyes

filling empty space with hate

for fat old men made fat on lies

It's not your fault It's just your fate

Baby soldier

Baby soldier lay it down

the crops won't grow in blood soaked ground

but baby soldier cannot hear

above the sound of hate and fear

baby soldier with angry eyes

feeding on their hate and fear

while fat old men get fat on lies


everyone dies that's why you're here

Baby soldier

Someone tell me where we are

not all that close not all that far.


Details | I do not know? | |

Daily Thoughts of a Broken Heart

Awkward moments fill the air; 
they trouble me when I sleep.

Behold the wonders of the great, 
killers and murderers of all kind.

Catch them we will the officer says, 
but forget them we will and go on.

Dying are all the people around you, 
sooner or later it will be your turn.

Enthusiasm, enthusiasm, oh that’s all so great, 
blood and violence tastes so sweet.

Fetch the demon in your dreams, 
or forever he will haunt you.

Glitter and fame, they are all that, 
they’ll pay with their life to witness.

Hate and misery powerfully rule, 
the people of this town.

Insomnia will keep you awake, 
yes; your past will haunt you.

Janitors of the rich and famous, 
get a little tap on the back.

Killing love all around the world, 
leaders now feel safe.

Let me lie here hopeless, 
I’ve lost all energy to fight.

Martyrs of our time are heroes, 
but count them on my fingers I can.

Night and day shiver cold, 
the sun has run away.

Oceans and seas have dried up, 
but our tears will replace.
Power sought by the entire world, 
the same thing that will destroy them.

Questions raised that have no answer, 
how sweet is confusion…

Rest my friend, it will be better soon, 
as soon as we are all dead.

Sanity has forever disappeared, 
along with thinking minds.

Tragedy of all kinds; 
the deaths and betrayals.

Undo all your mistakes?
Now it is too late.

Venomous poison in our drinks, 
to brainwash our innocence.

Warriors die for the wrong causes; 
it is all but a silly waste.


Xenophobia of all races, 
we will kill, kill, and kill.

Yowl out your sorrow, 
it is all you can do.

Zigzag thoughts run through my head, 
as wars come and go.


Details | Free verse | |

Turmoil

War and hate,
War and hate,
It’s so plain to see,
That violence seems to dominate,
The nightly news on TV.

War in Afghanistan,
War in Iraq.
Muslim hating Jew,
White hating Black.

We need to take a stand,
There’s nothing left to lose,
Let’s stop the tension now,
Before we blow a fuse.

Peace and love,
Peace and love,
That’s the only key,
It’ll end the war and hate,
Just you wait and see.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Fish Food

Junior High right?
YES.
Stop feeding my fish.
They are not hingry.
I fed them the real stuff,
Not the fish food u feed my fish.
They don't like that fish food.
It tasted bad,
They dont like you,
Stop feeding my fish that drama you like to call fish food.
Its not food its drama and it needs to stop.
It hurts my fish.
It hurts me to see my fish like this.
You make them cry.
That fish food is expired so stop bringing it up nobody wants it.
My fish are full to the rim.
Drop it and stop feeding my fish,
with your fish food i call drama.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Forgotten

In the beginning there was peace, joy, and love.
Then came hard times, war and hate.
What is this poor world to do,
when people aren't human anymore?
Computers think for us.
Minds are slowly fading.
Old people are forgotten.
Children are forsaken.
Youth have gone mad.
and for the rest.
There is no rest.


Details | ABC | |

WAR IS THE GREATEST PLAGUE OF MAN

WAR IS THE GREATEST PLAGUE OF MAN


As war is fought it takes charge 
And events spin out of control.
The madness of men can alter the soil 
Which nourishes the roots of their soul.

Many things will forever change 
Far more then wished to be.
As the wrath of war starts to destroy 
Those things we fight to keep free.

War is the greatest plague of man, 
Religion, state and sanity.
Any scourge is more preferred 
Than the one which disables humanity.

When war breaks out, boundaries change 
And all who die are a token
Of the rage that must run it's course 
Before words of peace are spoken.

War I hate, though not men, flags nor race 
But war itself with its ugly face.
When we lose faith in the brave, which die 
Then we're not fit to greet those who cry.

What distinguishes war isn't death 
But that man is slain by fellow man. 
Crushed by cruelty and injustice 
With his enemy's murderous hand.

War tends to punish the punishers
So the losers won't suffer alone.
The essence of war is but violence
Till the survivors come marching home.

Sometimes it's hard to defend what's right, 
Sometimes we're forced to rise up and fight. 
Sometimes we survive, while others must die 
Sometimes never knowing the reason why.

The rush of combat is a natural buzz 
Caused by fear, leaving nothing as it was.
Hunting one another like wild game 
Without a shortage of those to blame.

Sometimes victory comes too slow or quick 
Sometimes the cost on both sides is sick.
Sometimes God is asked to intervene 
To help stop the savage from being so mean.

War is a hell we visit before death 
Fueled by the whisper of the devil's breath. 
There must be a reason man destroys man
But why it is so, I can't understand.


By Tom Zart






 


Details | Lyric | |

time to be men

i was watching a story about the president's men.
when i felt my heart empty and fill with offence.
they were talking of war both home and away.
a plan that can only darken our day's.
there were number's and statistic's of soldier's to serve.
all under the banner of saving the earth.
but bomb's dont talk they blast and they kill.
they maime and they mangle and strangle free will.

i turned on the radio to try find some better news.
but was greated by the president's men and ther view's.
saying we must terrorise the terrorists there family and freind's.
untill our terror or theirs come's to an end.
i heard voices from history's dark day's repeated.
these are the voice's that should be defeated.
i heard the tone's of men with vengeance in mind.
the same men who's darkness has made us all blind.

so show me the door to this desperate world.
lock it quickly behind me for i'v had my fill.
if the bomb's dont get us then the rising sea's shall.
untill mother and her nature fall dead from her shell.
there's hatred a plenty leaving love in the shade.
there's fences on all side's and above barricades.
take your fingers of the trigger and back on the pen.
you've spent a lifetime as children it's time to be men.


Details | Rhyme | |

Wars

There are no losers, there are no winners
In wars that people wage
Our world is fast going up in smoke
We need to let in love’s rays of hope.

I lost one, you lost two today
I lost two, you lost one yesterday
The wars people and countries wage 
Only breed within hatred and rage.

Turn on the TV, a father carries a limp baby
Is this what we wait to see?
Tears, endless, ageless tears
Only gift of wars over the years.

A child saw his family blown
There was nothing now to call his own
His heart images seared by shrapnel 
Screamed with tears, “Avenge! Revenge!”

There’s a mother waiting at home
Waved her boy away to war one noon
Now she waits to collect his bones
A trophy of war she did not want to own.

Can we build breaking hearts and lives
Can there really be a winner in this strife
If only we’d find courage to stop
Courage to forgive, to love, not war.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Crushed Skulls

The Crushed Skulls

the crushed skulls

and the 

torn-off legs

and the 

single shots piercing countless heads


women, men, children
young, old, everyone just a human being

when will we tire of the senseless killing which we keep on impotently seeing


the gaping wounds soaked in blood

dismembered corpses piled high in some humid make-shift shit-stenched mortuary

who will remain to someday write, war's final obituary


for the killing goes on in the name of tribe
faith
race
religion
caste
sect

and the vested interests above all

but who really hears the whimpering sobs of a 4 year olds call

for her mother, father, brother, sister

as she lies dying, bleeding out like a gutted animal, on the stinging gravel

while we deliberate and engage and while to Geneva we always travel

to sign some scraps of paper that merely postpone the killing for a while

while the putrefying carcasses of human beings lie side by side, mile after bloody mile


war is ugly, they tell us

but necessary too

and we go to war for peace 

while the generals and the money-men and the politicians drink and dance and screw


war is ugly

it is indeed

but so are we

if we fail to see the humanity stripped away 

and peeled off the skin of that 4 year old girl

and if her cries for help we do not heed


war and guns and bombs and the very latest smart nuke

sickens me as it should us all
making us retch and puke

but who gives a **** about the bombs falling far away

we've got chores to do, margarine to buy, and take the family out for the day


war is ugly

so they tell us

while loading the magazines without much of a fuss

war is ugly

and cold and brutal and evil as the hounds of some distant hell

but who gives a **** for we have sneakers to buy and stocks to sell

war is ugly

but so are you and I

for we remain silent

as the bombs fall incessantly on

out of the open sky

shame on me and shame on us all, that much I believe is true

for our silence in the face of misery is tacit acceptance

and try as we might to inure ourselves 

I am as complicit in it all

as are you...


Details | Haiku | |

Martial Dances

We live in strange times, my brother 
men make money 
with war dances 
and occupation... 
Do you not see the bombardments 
and the pillaging? 
Under the boot 
you are worn out, 
these days 
the sweat of your brow 
no longer serves you! 
Tanks come from distant lands 
passing down your streets 
demanding to know 
why you were born! 
And you can say nothing. 
Soon, if this continues, 
it will be the course of progress 
to be denied learning. 
One speaks of the rights of man 
here and there. 
Do not believe those rumors! 
You see that nothing is in place now! 
We live in strange times my brother, 
arms dealing, 
construction 
governing the land. 
Is it so difficult to understand? 
They sell the merchandise of war! 
Come listen to my counsel. 
Don't marry, it is unsupportable 
to suffer the massacre of your children. 
The success of your affairs depends 
on producing fictitious enemies 
to menace... 
In this manner 
they take over small countries 
one after the other 
under the pretext of saving them. 
While you fight amongst yourselves 
others consume your underground resources. 
What should I tell you; 
do these times plant sorrow 
in your hearts? 
Be a little understanding! 
Increase the number of fratricidal wars, 
divide your people further 
to make the lives of the invaders easier. 
Do not forget that to destroy love 
requires only this: 
Live in a society without love 
and don't educate anyone... 
Live in the clarity of obscurity, 
depend only on yourself! 
The sun rises and sets on time... 
the throats of cocks are cut 
that sing before the hour! 
We live in strange times my brother, 
men make money with war dances 
and occupation... 
Do you not see the bombardments 
and the pillaging? 

By Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI 
Paris - 17.03.2003 
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français 
French free verse translated into English free verse 
by Joneve McCormick - 2003


Details | I do not know? | |

Who are These People Pt 3

who are these people?
where did they come from?
they seem so primitive.
so, incapable.
primitive humans without a foundation of language I feel were smarter and more able 
then these people.
these years of technological advancement, and inventions, have made the mass 
population stupid, and incompetent.
washing machines, dishwashers, the T.V, microwaves, plus....
hollywood magazines, fashion, consumerism and advertisements, whats in, whos out, 
materials, greed, toxic governments and polluted political powers, 
the building of nations through controlled influences and exposure
music, media, movies and more
the conditioning of the human population,  to be drones, to be mindless chickens who 
flock together only because they are afraid, 
to be zombies who fall in line without question, to be puppets, to be individually stripped of 
all human rights
to create and condition organic emotional humans into dull mechanical robotical children
that do what they're told, programmed to be obedient
like computer software was surgically inserted into the brains of infants at birth, to be
tracked, geographically speaking
and to be numbered for identification purposes within the system 
the system that collects our information, our bank statements, our internet passwords, 
our logins, our logouts
our emails, our instant messages, our cell phone conversations, our work hours, our credit 
rating, our mortgage.
its already happening. microchips being implanted under the skin of babys
its no wonder this world has gone crazy, mad, insane, ludacris.


Details | Free verse | |

We are broken glasses in the sun

We are broken glasses in the sun
Shining like diamonds
Razor sharp on the edge of the skin
I have seen my own heart
Spelling in translucent desires
With each vowel like a spectrum strand
The manhood I must retain
But we only reflect what is shined on us
There is no kaleidoscope for the night
We want so much to be believed
In the trembling hands gripping us
Choking us deliriously breathless
For any foolish semblance of support
Their raw flesh bleed against our jagged edge
And we get saddled with disbelief
We awake one cloudy day
And realize our dilemma is not modern
We have been this way disrespected 
Before the first leaf fell in green in Eden
And I have been lonely
From that abbreviated moment of time
Until this eternity of now.
Our mothers alone have made us brothers
But we may search in vain for the brotherhood.


Details | Ottava rima | |

WAR SEEN THROUGH A YOUNGSTER'S EYES

Born in that historical and eventful year
when changes were sweeping this country,
peace songs were heard in the scary, tumultuous air...
not realizing the dear cost for the quest of liberty
when soldiers would have gone to a foreign land so far,
to defend what others thought was sheer folly!
And their blood was shed in jungles and on dusty roads,
never feeling selfish pride by carrying the heaviest loads.


And from those sad and tragic memories,
my lyrics were written and sung to myself
with the hope of revealing them with teary eyes...
remembering what took for them to face pain without relief
and whenever letters were delayed in the mail mothers
began to fear the worst, if not a horrible death...
many went to churches and synagogues to ask God for mercy,
and yes He heard their pleas, but war had no clemency.


Many of those soldiers were given Purple Hearts
for their remarkable courage to have confronted danger without surrendering to the enemy,
others were forgotten in wheelchairs without legs and arms,
and they wept with no one offering comfort, warmth and sympathy...
but on those heart so proud of their Motherland they wore American flags,
unable to forget their commitment when they were asked to fight for their beloved country.
O brave soldiers, if no medals or honors were given you...let me reward you for your fright:
by erasing all the atrocity of bloody scenes that still are troubling your longest, coldest night. 
    


Details | Rhyme | |

This Memorial Day

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 | I do not know? | |

When Tyrants Tremble

When Tyrants Tremble

when tyrants tremble
at the fury of those who tremble no more

their veneer of stability seems rotten to the core

when the trembling ones shake off their long-hushed fear

the trembling ones
tremble now with a rage that injustice everywhere can hear

when tyrants tremble
as the dispossessed shake their foundations of tyrannical conceit

tyrants tremble
when the common ones expose the phantoms of tyranny's deceit

when the trembling ones
refuse to be cowed and bowed and beaten down again

the trembling ones
scream their vehemence as they have little to lose and freedom and dignity to gain

when tyrants tremble
their trembling resounds and echoes around the world

tyrants tremble
then in each far-flung tyranny at the peoples' flag being unfurled

and finally when the trembling ones
take back the citadels, the streets, the squares, and the parks

the trembling ones
send a message to power that revolutions may be triggered by the merest of livid sparks

and that tyranny may reign for a decade or a generation or even two

but tyranny must eventually succumb to the rage of the common ones that appears suddenly out of the bright clear blue

this isn't a warning or a threat or a declaration of ill intent

this is a sober lesson in history for the peoples' history with oppressive stasis can never be content

when tyrants tremble
they should know that there will someday come a trembling surprise

for the garbage heap of history patiently awaits each tyrant's wretched demise


Details | Free verse | |

Rebel Soldier Going To Their Post Of Nowhere

Rebel Soldier Going To Their Post Of Nowhere

The sling gun, 
On the shoulder, 
So thin, 
So frail, 
Green tee shirt, 
Hug the lean body, 
Under the bushes, 
They walked, 
Ignoring the mud river, 
The orange ball, 
Seem to fade with the darken sky, 
Beam mutely, 
On the poor brown soil, 
Gray grass, 
Above the knee, 
Tickled the sole, 
Of the frighten rebels, 
That they smile, 
Wind so strong, 
Pungent, 
Dead cancer of corrupt republic, 
A b-plane, 
Just passed, 
That boy, 
Made an act of shooting, 
The bird in the sky, 
They laughed, 
It banked, 
Already on the foggy, 
Blue mountain. 


Details | I do not know? | |

For Aung San Suu Kyi

For Aung San Suu Kyi

manacled
you remained unyielding
bruised by their bayonets of power
you remained unyielding
gagged by their coarse brutality
you remained unyielding
today you return
and we salute
your spirit
that remained
and remains
unyielding


Details | Blank verse | |

time for clearance

Time for Clearance

I was in Norway once, the paradise of social democracy, 
I saw many beggars, mostly Roma people who 
the inhabitant wanted to get rid of or send them out of 
town in the woods where they were not seen. If you are 
beggar you got to beg where the people are, foxes and 
sheep and have nothing to give. There is a strong sense 
of nationalism in Norway. The police did not hesitate to 
round up Jews and send them to concentration, and when 
the war was over most of the police officers continued in 
their work upholding the law. Norway as a nation has never 
looked at itself and taking tally of the nation´s behavior 
during war years, instead it is lauding the few who resisted 
the Nazi occupation and made them into icons. They shot 
Quisling but it didn´t stop what made a quisling possible. 
Still has not done so. Oil made Norway rich, yet there 
is poverty amongst the low paid and incomers for whom
there is little charity. The dark side of Scandinavia- violence,- 
hate against people who are different from them… those 
who do not fit into the nice, but untrue picture the country 
have of herself.  


Details | Rhyme | |

The pain

Can you feel the pain.
That still remains.
I'm really plauged.
Like doctors revealing aids.
neal and wait.
while the government steels your fate.
look at your freedom get peeled away.
i feel for the children that havent had a meal n days.
kill the rage.
that builds the hate.
Like when your spiritual shield inflates; the ego.
now we know.
the founding fathers gave the natives mezels. 
and its hard for a rich kid to reach close.
to the poor kid who can't concieve hope.
our integrity becomes the unwieved rope.
holding together the east coast...
while you eat toast.
your needs grow.
making us more evil.
like people controled by the eagle.
I'm leathal like upheavals that beat you.
I read through the bleak truth.
Feed to the oblique youth...


Details | Quatrain | |

Spare Souls

A story of a thousand souls,
Two thousand runs into three,
Who are just as dead, decaying, gone,
Despite self-serving heraldry.

A story of a thousand souls,
And thousands more to be killed,
Who never reached for bomb nor gun,
And died to keep our gas tanks filled.


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 | I do not know? | |

Who are These People Pt 2

who are these people?
where did they come from?
of all the aromas in existence, the foul smell from the mouth of an 87 year old man
who has had gingivitis for 32 years
and has had rheumatoid arthritis in his wrist for the past 23
making it difficult, almost impossible to brush his teeth
is unquestionably the most repulsive characteristic of my job.
the bumpy, but crater filled skin that covers majority of guests
shows the degeneration caused by poor nutritional choices
an overall lack of physical exercise, 
and a lifestyle filled and toxified with consumerism and media injected promotional poison, 
they buy, and buy then buy some more
actually believing that the need the items they purchase
knick knacks, glass coasters, another Friday night dress
more liquor, more cigarettes, more disease, 
another pair of shoes, a DVD, 
consume, consume, consume
till their souls are consumed with materialistic so called needs
a new belt, more beer, more stress another year
buying things to bring gratification , trying to remove the fear
hats, drugs, amusement parks, comedians
sex shops, fancy cars, impulsive desires, 
new computer, new thrill, another method of destruction
years of being killed now can’t even carry on a discussion.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Operation Freedom-no oscar nomination

OPERATION FREEDOM-NO OSCAR NOMINATION

Sex is best

Coach potatoes rest

TV demands 

Our attention best.


Next I guess

The threat of 

War.

Reality TV 

Even the whore


A boar.

The roar 

of the war 

Our whore war boar? 


Yes.


I’m numb

Somewhat dumb


Bi-sexual encounters

On tropical islands

Of whom will marry 

Mr. Billion Trillion carpenter

have let me, well…

Wanting 

More!



This shock and awe

Reality TV

A critical disappointment for me.



Sorry no Oscar nomination shall there be.

Not from me

You shall see. 

Hurry now 

Try some more

Trying in vain

To entertain me. 





Details | Lyric | |

The Act

"The smile then melts off her face
in a frantic heat of boiling, screaming rage
and trickles down into a pool
of boundless sorrow...."


React like you think they think you should
Whether or not you really feel good 

The act will pass on
and so will they 
soon enough

Don’t you show your pain
Keep pretending you’re still sane

This life 
is a dream 
and it’s not long now
‘till we all wake up

======================
Look for the song-----coming soon!

www.sorrylittlesharky.com 


Details | Narrative | |

Delusioned

He sits at a booth and orders for everyone:
"Eliza will have a strawberry lemonade
and a salad, no dressing;
Hubert will take an ice-cold beer
to wash down his steak;
my grandmother, here, will have the chicken
and green beans;
and I suppose I'd like the duck."
The waitress responds to his requests:
"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I’m terribly confused.
I see no Eliza to serve a lemon or salad;
and Hubert’s not here to prove he’s of age.
Your grandmother, dear, I’m afraid isn’t here;
and we don’t have duck here to put on your plate.
I'm sorry to say, mister, 
but you are alone.
No one is here with you tonight."
He stares up at her, baffled—
two tangled prisms absorbing dim light
"Miss, I insist, please bring me the food.
My friends and I have grown weary
from battle and war and we need to dress our wounds. 
Miss, can’t you see that we’re brutally beaten?"
"Sir, I’m sorry to say that you are not damaged
or beaten in any kind of way. Your clothing is bright
and your hair is all combed. 
You are still very much alone."
He stands up straight and sighs,
"a man is born alone and so, alone is how he dies."


Details | I do not know? | |

THE BIG FIGHT

Once peace and war met at one site,
Both debated as who was right.
Peace brings prosperity while war leads to adversity,
With war one realizes his strenght,
But makes us far from our friends.
With peace we rise,
With war we die.
War had nothing to speak for,
But yet continued to fight for long.
And so the debate went for on......................
Atlast to prove this, they went to fight,
The war broke on and millions died.
But yet nobody would yet decide that peace or war will rise.
EVENTUALLY, peace surrendered as it thought that life of millions would never 
increase its pride.
Guess what ,as peace surrendered war had to leave,
And peace was what everyone could feel.
So friends, the fact is that victory is always gained by peace,
And this is what my poem reveals.


Details | Free verse | |

WAR

Atrocity all over,
Belligerent in parts,
Catastrophe in houses,
Denial in all the minds.
Effectiveness of weapons,
Ferocity in souls,
Geographical locations
Itineraries hold.
Justifiable crimes and
Knives cutting hearts away.
Lonely are the ones that leave;
Mothers often weep and pray.
Nobody cares at all,
Only power they must seek.
Poor are the ones
Quite eager to stay safely meek.
Random killings all the time,
Some for money 
Too many for none.
Under the sword of Aries the fight
Varies the price it carries.
We all suffer, war’s no gift
Xenophobia can excuse,
You can’t think the whole abuse
Zen-like-wisdom does inflict.


Details | Narrative | |

Just Fishing

Way off the coast of Maine he is fishing
while soldiers he sent to war are dying;
and out in the desert blood is flowing
as he is busily catching some marlin.


Details | Free verse | |

Reproductions of the Body

There is no pain
that is unaccompanied
by light blinding
or translucent like seeing
the sun through a flame or another's petite morte
as you climax,
 
and heap in rubbled bodies,
others cast in panoptic stone
by the suffocating beauty of the soldiered
rose-blossoms.
They cry, cry out in ineffable joy at the sky
or lips fall heavy to the dust
as they climax,
 
and entwined in fervent bodies
we all come to know what makes us bare another
sadness swaddled in marble arms.


Details | I do not know? | |

For the Freedom-Loving people of Syria

Massacre at Houla.

She was no more than 10 years of age.
He could have been a grandfather.

Young, old, women, girls, men, boys.

108 lives.

Now they are buried,
in hurriedly dug graves,
on the plains of Houla.

Killed by knives,
shot at point-blank range,
slaughtered, mowed-down.

108 lives.

Snuffed-out. Decimated. Taken-out.

108 lives.

As Damascus lies blatantly,
spewing forth untruth,
108 warm, dead bodies,
remain buried,
in hurriedly dug graves,
on the plains of Houla.

108 lives.


Details | Narrative | |

SCARCE HARVEST

War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred: 
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames 
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was. 


The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went, 
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis, 
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have 
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?


Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy, 
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?


Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies 
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries  
recited with graceful whispers, gave them 
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
 

Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been 
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels 
bend under their heavy weight and bow.... 
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"   

Southern Italian Town:  Baiano

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | I do not know? | |

D.O.C. Soldiers

We are D.O.C. soldiers down for the cause.
Missouri's convicts and solid outlaws.
The rule that we live by are written in stone.
We are powerful and fearless we are bad to the bone.
We come from these towns all across the way.
Doing our time taking it day by day.
We are solid most blasted with ink.
We don't give a lick what other people think.
All this in time makes us mean ruthless and hard.
It's all a small price to pay to survive on the yard.


Details | Didactic | |

War: How I Must Live Or Die


I wish…
that war happening around us
would end soon. I feel 

awful when I think 
of people dying 
or, when I see  innocent souls 
have been shot. I feel 

awful when someone
chooses you, to wear a bomb
as I was. Our world,
 
so small and not 
perfect, yet still, we can make 
a difference that I chose to live 
my life. I own it 

and no one has the right 
to rule how I must live or die; no one 
can take my life, except my Creator.

 


Details | Limerick | |

Chain of Command

                You, topmost brass of the military chain of command,

       though it's your warriors who blast away humans from the land,

                                                     you're liable,

                                                     answerable;

           you can never wash away the blood of guilt from your hand!


Details | Free verse | |

Knock It Down

down down down, knock it down to the basement 
blowing stuff up for a book never made sense 
the books were made, we've been screwed since
religion should be talked about in past tense
hence, the age of ignorance is over 
ill put the burdens of the weak on my shoulders
its a heavy weight to carry 
but death is a women i would gladly marry 
if it means i could stop the torment and destruction 
of our youth, they don't deserve to be corrupted
the mind is pure, void of superstition 
don't transmit unto your loved one your condition 
let them grow up, and make their own decision 
because i know if you did they would never choose the same path 
they would figure out the simple math  
they would never be so arrogant
to believe this world was heaven sent 
and was made with them in mind
they would reject any mention of a being divine 
only wealth and religion can cause a man to be so vain 
eternity, what is there to gain 
is this life and this world not enough for you 
you need another, and another, and another too
it is sad to see you wasting the only life you have 
don't let your children fall victim to the same fad


Details | ABC | |

AMERICAN POLICEMEN

AMERICAN POLICEMEN



Misdeeds were put here as a test for mankind
And to many race down the wrong path.
Greed, hate, lust and perversion are satin’s tools
In his workshops of corruption and wrath.

Rape, robbery, murder, and assault
Are committed by the dishonest night and day.
Thank God for those who line up to protect
The principles of justice, honor and fair play.

Where would we be without valiant policemen
Who patrol our neighborhoods and streets?
Risking their life and limb on the line
Arresting thieves, killers, drug dealers, perverts and cheats.

To many officers become victims of divorce
Products of occupational danger and strain.
Never knowing when they say good by
 If it’s their day to be crippled or slain.

It takes a brave soul to become a good cop
Risking everything for little praise and pay.
It’s true that some may abuse their badge
But for the majority we gratefully pray.



By Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On Tjhe Web


Details | I do not know? | |

Moral Awakening

if you're asking
about what's real
and what's illusive,
and nobody
could figure it out,
ask me.
i would love to answer:
what's illusive,
is a happy life.
since we made it up
inside our heads,
and believe it with our hearts.
at the same time,
we see with our eyes
that what's real,
are the bloody headless bodies,
the dry ice blocks on top of corpses,
and mothers killing their babies.


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #82 / A tide

A tide of a
hundred thousand people
tides of change


Details | Rhyme | |

Master of Babylon

Prince you are and master who traffics merchandise
your ships o're seas do travel market paradise
trade you do in human souls commodity and ware
buy and sell your targets exchange material for our care
 
You have numbered mankind like slaughter for the sheep
branded their mind and hands your ideology they keep
hazy is the outline your doctrine of their need
veiled by the costume concealment of greed
 
How many become lost in the glitter of your store
never satisfied with plenty but always wanting more
like idols you make them cannot see nor hear nor speak
boldly feed their vanity corrupt the very weak
 
Your stock and trade the trap you've laid
you do counterfeit what's True
with commerce shade a new religion made
skilled entrapments pervade the view
 
Just like the old religions their lusts do you restore
with craftiness you perpetuate avocation of the Whore
Costly is her clothing embroidered veil upon her head
outside painted beautiful but inside is dead
 
You've sold them an ideal and into they've bought
so many think they're nothing unless they have alot
the emptiness interior with diversion seek to fill
subtle its inception nearly painless way to kill
 
sources Ezekiel chapters 27-28
Apocalypse chapters 13 and 18
 
COPYRIGHT © 2010  C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | ABC | |

FLY-BOYS



World War I gave us the fly-boys
Who flew by the seat of their pants.
Many would never return from war
While others survived by chance.

Their planes were mostly canvas and wood
Gasoline, bullets, bombs and poison gas.
Every pilot carried his own pistol
Wearing leathers, scarf and goggles of glass.

Aviators had no Parachutes
To escape their burning plane.
Many were forced to jump to their death
Or self inflect a bullet to the brain.

Blimps where known as battleships of the sky
The roar of their engines gave reason for fear.
They flew so high they were hard to shoot down
Hiding above clouds till their targets drew near.

Tracer bullets for the first time were used
In the guns of airplanes to set blimps a fire.
The skies became man’s highway of death
With duty and honor their driving desire.

How many Fly-boys have we lost since then
Those days of the Great War and more?
Where do we get such brave souls of chance
Who rise from the rest in the battles of war?

By Tom Zart







Details | Rhyme | |

SHEATH YOUR SWORD

Hold your peace
Let the violence cease
Sheath your sword
Draw no more blood!

Let it off with a shrug
Give him a hug
If to Peace you belong
She shall make your days long!


Details | ABC | |

AS THE MADNESS OF WAR TELLS ITS STORY




Goodness must overrule absolute evil
Though there’s nothing worse than war.
Sometimes we have no alternative option
Except to kill or be killed as before.

The best of plans can go amiss
With uncertainties till the first shots are fired.
As generals plot their path toward victory
It’s up to the wounded, the fallen and tired.

It’s not how strong or athletic you are
That decides who is blessed to return.
Those who survive are a product of luck,
And our prayers and support they’ve earned.

War seems to peel the veneer off society
Exposing our villain within.
A crazy obsession to rule over others
By death, destruction and sin.

The mayhem of conflict is a ongoing scourge
Robbing man from intended glory.
The hinge of history swings in all directions
As the madness of war tells its story.


By Tom Zart


“TOM ZART’S 300 POEMS”


You can hear all of Tom Zart’s 300 poems of love, war, faith and more 24-7 on web radio at=

http://internetvoicesradio.com/Arch-TomZart.htm


Tom Zart ARCHIVES:
FREE TO DOWNLOAD


Global
Special
Operations
101
http://www.globalspecialoperations.com/tomzart2.html





Details | Quatrain | |

Rescue

Help
Out of love, Eternal God sent Father Christ
His Son into the World
Because of sin, dying
Death of our earthly bodies, also eternal death

Father Christ spoke often about eternal fire
Awaits all those who reject Eternal Father’s merciful love in Father Christ
All who reject the Eternal Son rejects eternal life
He alone who he brings are condemned already

The condemnation is eternal separation from God
What Father Christ refers to as the “hell of fire”
The “furnace of fire”
The “unquenchable fire”

Hell is something man chooses
There are only two ways
Leads to Life
The other leads to death

For the gate is narrow
The way is hard
Leads to Life
Those who find it are few

The narrow way is Father Christ Himself
He said “I am the way
The truth
The life

Following Father Christ means
Following the Church He started
Following the way
Following truth and the life
No one comes to the Eternal Father
But by me”
In Jesus, the Eternal Father has made
A way to life for us

How foolish of me to refuse
I don’t like the means of help He has chosen
For my salvation
I chose to take the help He gave

11152011


Details | I do not know? | |

West eats Meat

West eats Meat*.


Silently, 
slicing the sky,
a Predator on the prowl.

Searching,
through human eyes,
miles away at HQ.

Picking up the signs
fresh meat on the ground,

scanning heat signatures,
confirmation reaches the bird,

sixteen high-value targets,
on the move,
in the cool desert night.

An order is given,
the Predator banks left,
steadies itself,
while sharpening its claws.

With a whoosh,
the Predator belches,
its payload strikes the HVT's.

"Target destroyed",
a cheer goes up,
miles away at HQ.

The smoke clears,
silence returning,

while,

5 men,
4 women,
7 children,

stir no more,
late for the feast,
as the bride lies cold,
and dead,
on the dunes.

"mission accomplished".


* : with thanks to Pandit Ravi Shankar's extraordinary composition "West eats Meat".



Details | I do not know? | |

Hero's

You’re our hero
The poor and impoverished 
Captive starving millions
Cry
Tears of anguish
Tears of dread

The cost of their Hero’s burial
Is too their debt
Their sacrifice 
The living for their leader 

The hungry little ones 
Cry
The world watches on
In fear

My Hero gave it all
His life
A willing sacrifice 
His perfect life
His perfect love
His cost
Our hatred
That we might live

His excruciating death
Has not left us comfortless
And soon to be 
Our resurrection of renewal

We the loyal few weep for what we did
His life for ours
The rest rejoice because you died
The world now looks on 
In fear

©? Brenda V Northeast              29 Dec. 2011

 
 


Details | Rhyme | |

try being me

I hear these stories about stress and strife
But I invite everyone to live my life
Women go crazy and murder those kids 
Life throws curves and they are on the skids
They rely on men and cry when they are alone
To drugs and alcohol they are prone
To numb the pain and the memories
But leave the children alone I beg you please
They can't speak up for themselves you see
It hurts to acknowledge, cause it used to be me
Who cried at night for my Mom and Dad
Whose birthday every year was lonely and sad
So to all of those people who let their minds go
Step into my memory and enjoy the damn show
Everyone has thoughts this much is true
But how would you like me to hurt you?
To gain your trust then push you back down
To always turn a smile into a frown
Watch the news and everyone will see
How truly tough it is trying to be me


Details | Verse | |

My Reply

So you think I do not know love 
Because I do write lullabies as opiate for the masses
I do not put an innocent dove
in a cage of words to sing and soothe your trespasses
Yes I know love, I met him today
In the hunger of child's shrunken eyes, he cried too
When his flesh was not enough, say
Would you care to give some blood like real lovers do
There is a revolution that is calling
For what alone pay the price of redemption in the street
Heroes have fell and are still falling 
Where children hunt water from rocks with dusty feet. 


Details | Bio | |

Fairly Fierce

Some are timid,
Some are meek,
Some are strong,
Some are weak,

I'm laid back,
And quiet too,
But if you attack,
Don't matter who,

I become an animal,
Like a cornered beast,
I'll fight against all odds,
Till the threat does cease

I have proved this once,
I have proved this twice,
Invade my dignity,
I am not a bit nice,

I've fought against odds,
Where others might cringe,
When I'm done and thru,
Your apt to feel a singe

I go on automatic,
My brain freezes fear out,
I'll take on any odds,
On this you should never doubt

So those who value survival,
Remember when it comes to me,
I may well seem comic and weak,
But beware that which you do not see.


Details | I do not know? | |

Question

inequity in life, immortalityin death,
striken from the words, taken from the pages, the pages of time, 
choose not what your told, but what you think, question your morals, 
question your world, question authority, question reality.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Misery

Tell me what you see
When you see
The children crying
With their bloated bodies
Withered hands
Wasted lips and faces
And eyes that never smile

Tell me what you hear
When you hear
The children weeping
With their tattered clothes
Broken bones
Shattered dreams and souls
And hearts that never mend

Tell me what you feel
When you witness
The dropping bombs
With their hearts of fire
Songs of pain
Sundering greetings and goodbyes
And hands that never feel

Someone explain to me
Explain to me
Why children’s tears
Filled with sorrow filled with longing
Go unheard
Searching eyes and curious minds
Never see the beauty in the stars

Tell me what to say
What to say
To my child when he sees
The children crying
Many dying
In the streets
And going blind, wasting away
While we are safe
While we feast and we celebrate
And we love


Details | Lyric | |

Homeland Security

 I am a patriot

and I love my country

and I believe freedom is worth fighting for

but I keep hearing 

about homeland security

It's a long way from home that you're waging this war

why the deception and misinformation

what is this treacherous game that you play

you keep sending our children to that desert forsaken

You won't let common sense stand in your way

There's no room for partisanship in this matter

this sword will cut both the left and the right

You put a little too much on your platter

but the roaches will scatter when we turn on the light

Where is the glory and honor and premise

all I see is the hungry industrial 

with her bombs and her missiles and too often you miss

for each foe that you kill you create ten more

Why the deception and misinformation

what is this treacherous game that you play

foolishly tempting the worlds damnation

with your sword made of iron and your feet made of clay


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled

how do i escape?
Dead in the night
What happened to the light?
Blueblack shades
Body drapped
Can this be alright?
What is way of right?
Piercing screams
How could this be?
Happen to me
Hollow inside
bloodied scars prove
no where to hide
alone, lost love
attempted flight, broken-winged dove
fall
Fall
Fallen
Angelic hope
None
Demonic presence abuse
What happened to the son?
Exploding beetle juice
Raping pleasures
How do i escape?


Details | Free verse | |

Reject

Move through the street
with heads down 
and mouths zipped.

They act normal,
like the others

They play your game,
lick you and say thank you.

They try to be precious, but are
Hated, baited, and rated

This world hates them for a reason,
Because they do things a new way.
Because they are weird
Or for being insane. 
They can not fit into a plan.

There is a dam that is building.
It will scare you
Because their swings come from you.


Details | I do not know? | |

Our War

We are not yet free
For we have a war here
One more violent then I've ever seen
For our war is not with Iraq
But against one another
Violence a big crime
Drugs, killings, and abuse
Kids don't hardly play outside anymore
Someone tell me whats this world comeing to
A war that may never end
Over money, cheating, jealousy, and stupidity
Hey Mr. President why don't you fix this
Sad but true
Something the president can't seem to fix
The soliders can't fight this
We'll never win
This war at home tonight


Details | Quatrain | |

at the altar

what do we bring to sacrifice,
to the altar of our fears
will the fear, itself, suffice
to wipe away these grieving tears

here, a satchel i take in stride
through the machine, my will to cede
and here, too, a bag of my pride
that it turns out, i didn't need

that old man has a video camera
and a young one totes a backpack
can we turn them outta here
for the bravery that i lack

and the child so innocent beside her,
that woman there with righteous shawl,
are mother and child vengeful saboteurs
would a flash of hate burst my wall

do i send my firstborn far away
did the world change to get more hate
is that the price my dread must pay
is that all my fright can relate

when i stand on this serene beach
is evil banished from my sight
is the violent tsunami out of reach
if i waive some liberty, some right

should land's crust pull asunder
and an abyss drop before my feet
would relinquishing fear pull me under
would, then, i go down in defeat

my god, what must i do to appease
when i stand before some conflagration
to vindicate, to assuage, to please
must i change my life's foundation

or can i only fear fear itself
to live as those i remember might want
take life day-to-day from off the shelf
without hate and fear, my dreams to haunt

Armageddon might be without love
but my world today is more than this
i refuse to live life devoid of
love and empathy and a bit of bliss

© Goode Guy 2011-09-08


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 | Free verse | |

Children of Babylon

Children of Babylon

There was Psalm
rose petals in the wake of March
the laughter of hells
the tears of lost Edens
the looming tyranny of kings
the voices falling as angels from 
the sights of God

And what reigned
in the stead of David and Solomon
were the children of Babylon
the beasts risen from the Coliseum’s womb
the savages who called themselves lords
and the whores
who touted their freedom before the world
as they bent knee
opened mouth
and pacified themselves
on the "phallacious" seed of the king’s rising scepter


Details | Lyric | |

Hate You Now


I saw the news today

I'd like to know what the hell you're trying

I want to find away

to silence you, and stop all the dying

You think you're above the law

You'll send to die just as many as you want to

Damnedest thing I ever saw

the mess you've made doesn't even seem to daunt you

You spit in our eyes and say
I'm gonna hate you now

because you are more evil than I am

and I'm gonna hate you now

cause I hate your point of view

I'm gonna hate you now

cause daddy's so proud

and mamma's still crying

and I'm gonna hate you now

cause my God told me to
When will it ever end

You'd think you would have learned by now

and what about you my friend

could you please tell me how

How will we find our way

when the God you pray to is a fat cash cow

who'll stand up and say

This has got to end.

but you slap mommas face and say
I'm gonna kill you now

because you are more wicked than I am

and I'm gonna kill you now

cause I hate your point of view

I'm gonna kill you now

My daddy's so proud and momma keeps crying

and I'm gonna kill you now

cause my God told me to.

Manipulation games

and broken promises from long ago

You put out the Lady's' flame

You'll reap what you sew

The children have to pay

Old men, and old women too 

they just get in the way

of the bombs I drop on you

I'm gonna hate you now

because you've always hated me

I'm gonna hate you now

For all the oil that I've bought

I'm gonna hate you now

Cause hate is all I've got

How will you return 

all the lives that you have wasted

watch the babies burn

Say this will keep us free

I wish you'd drink the blood

I wish that I could make you taste it

You've never understood
and you refuse to see
You turn your back on God and say
I'm gonna kill you now

because you are more wicked than I am

and I'm gonna kill you now

cause I don't agree with you

I'm gonna kill you now

cause Daddy's so proud and Mama's still crying

and I'm gonna kill you now

cause killings what I do

When will it ever end

You'd think you would have learned by now

what about you my friend

could you please tell me why

why can't he see the sin

of worshiping that fat cash cow 

just look at the mess we're in

You're killing for a lie


Details | Ballad | |

CARRYING ALONG THAT SECRET

Gradma singing her passionate Neapolitan songs 
from a balcony adorned with scarlet roses...her deep voice
not a soprano's, but delightful and expressed in humaneness;
her long golden hair brushed by the summer's aromatic breeze, 
to spark a new passion in her lively blue eyes!
And has she ever told anyone about 
carrying along that secret?

When grandpa left Italy, in clandestine  disguise,
for a long, hopeful jeouney to America in the late thirties,
grandma sacrificed and suffered much;  and when the Nazis
invaded the peaceful town of Baiano,
grandma made trips to the  small mill in Arciano,
to grind grain and make her delicious bread:
encountering many dangers and fears ahead...
making her the heroine History won't recognize! 
Have the historians overlooked her incredible courage,
and let her carry along that secret?

Women  and young ladies, including grandma, adored
the handsome and fearless man Mussolini,
who resuscitated the old concept of the Roman Empire with evil ways...
manipulating the puppet' hands of the loyal Fascisti;
woe to me, if I had lived and rebelled in those dreadful days:
I would have been imprisoned and possibly been killed!
Out of grief and anger, I speak against 
every injustice and not carry along that secret! 

My uncle, Stefano, was taken to England  by the British
as a prisoner of war...a coerced man so torn;
and Emma a kind-hearted English woman ,
and a lovely nurse with an impeccable humanity,
visited him often and brought him a home-cooked dish;
someting wonderful could have bloomed between them...
but all records and details have been lost instead,
and mine rely entirely on faded pictured filled with memory!
  
What unthinkable steps, the dictators of this earth take, to gain
their day in an unpromising sun:  suddenly power and pride...gone;   
Hitler's land devastated by the armies of justice...
with no shot-down bodies falling into self-dug ditches! 
Powerful people could have prevented this inhumane slaughter with haste,
but  silently watched them die... carrying along that secret!


Details | Rhyme | |

Murder Reigns

Someone secretly installed a thought inside my brain
Constantly downloading like a river through a drain
Military strategies, the overload is pain
Foreign data overlapping memories drive me insane
"I am not a war machine!"

I don't wanna Fight or to feel hatred for a nation
I don't wanna die or to kill for an education
I don't wanna live, be involved with annihilation
I just wanna cry when I see all the devastation
"Why does murder reign supreme?"

Why do people think they have to conquor other lands
Nuclear explosion only leaves an empty hand
Absolutely nothing can survive in only sand
Change your viscious attitude or you will die a lonely man
"No more war machines!"


Details | Ballad | |

Babydoll

Trying to escape from it all I detach from reality Knowing my spirit will be Safe Too much torment have I gone through To know that this story is truly mine Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll In my mind there is a haven Only I can enter, but everyone else is there Its there I will find a new tactic To keep on living in your torment On the way home I'll die a few times But just to know I really lived I'll have to find a new way to bleed If I want to escape I'll have to loose myself Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll


Details | Free verse | |

Peace

I saw a burning soldier in the sand

I couldn't tell if he was friend or foe

I just stood and watched him burn

my heart and mind accustomed though

to what would make the state side stomach churn

Mothers holding children charred

black or sometimes white

faces frozen forever pain and fright

I curse the day my heart grew hard

I still and will obey

I took the oath 

I raised my hand

I saw a burning soldier in the sand

I hoped he had found peace

and turned to walk away


Details | Rhyme | |

UNCLASSED

Uncertainty breeding tolerance or default
that openness forever I exalt
my weakness, as new weakness, not assault,
would execute new justice by strength's lack?

So bridging some infirmity, take back
the homicidal structure of exact,
unknown to self the causing, still impact
all differences demeaning, all retract!

By stating my contention, not react
I clarify my purpose ~ in contrast.
So let me delve in empathy, Faith's last
and let me live in sympathy, my bast!

As still injustice learning, am aghast
by fortunes interacting, through War's path,
the flagrant guesswork erstwhile marring lathe',
I loosen my indemnity ~  God's wrath

is so determined judgment . . . . mine unclassed!






Details | I do not know? | |

This World Around Me

Throughout life I've been used and abused,
like the others when I look around.
Wondering how we've become so confused,
why our screams make not a sound.

How the world keeps turning each day,
as death and war go on.
Thinking how can we go on this way,
tragedy breaking at each dawn.

Our country crashing down,
violence ruling society today.
The proof seen all around,
as we learn to live life this way.

Loved ones being sent away,
as war calls their name.
Many never see another day,
life without them not the same.

Kids carrying guns and getting high,
and dropping out of school.
I just can't understand why,
they think it's all so cool.

Society divided among the rich and poor,
and the color of our skin.
Why does it matter anymore,
why can't we all just win?

Constantly worrying on the judgement of our peers,
how we look in everyones eyes.
Labeled with indifference our greatest fear,
covering imperfection with lies.

Those subjected to cruelty of tease,
picked on and isolated each day.
They pull the trigger with such ease,
a suicide note with nothing to say.

Our government hiding what they don't want us to know,
reducing our freedom right in front of our eyes.
Their foolish mistakes begining to show,
our country being ruled by lies.

Jealousy and greed the base of our lives,
anger fueling the chaos furthermore.
Our sorrow crying in the blood on our knives,
destroying society to the core.

Horrific events seen on the news each day,
rape and murder taking place throughout the night.
Ignoring destruction,not knowing how to live any other way,
peace and simplicity so far out of sight.

I see destruction all around,
our world running out of good.
The falling of society not making a sound,
and that which does not understood.

Shunning God from our lives,
bringing Him in only for blame.
Solving problems with guns and knives,
doing what we can to hide our shame.

This poem is not done yet,
i just want opinions on how it is so far.
Thanks.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sixty8Ball

 Sixty8Ball     
 
 
Author Message 
Admin
Admin



Age : 53
Joined : 25 Jun 2007
Posts : 53
Localisation : Tucson

 Subject: Sixty8Ball   Today at 16:17      

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Sixty8Ball


CharlaXFabels


GangLanders
Street toughs and criminals fighters and haters drug users and drinkers and 
smokers and sniffers. The eye is 53 chronological in years but excessive use of 
beers has not been nice to my nerves and when they move near me like sharks 
in the water of a limning pool eye flinch a little move away but not fear eye never 
fear no one but namme. Eye would not want to hurt the boyz but neither will eye 
let them tower over me in size they would not make a decent meal for wolf or dog 
or coyote packing hounds of misery they play like men when wanting to deliver 
but they mistake the old homeless for a flake and a quiver when the liver is so 
pink and my spine is finally strait and eye stand in disbelief as they step up to the 
plate eye pulled my glove on then smiled they seemed to hesitate then they tried 
again to make me shake
"we told yew we will beat yew up" the eye was laughing now the jigg was up the 
die was cast no time to worry or even much to laugh eye pulled the other glove on 
my right hand and smiled not moving there just waiting time to dance had come 
they tried again even so they wanted me to think that they had heart they walked 
up to the near me as they could try then one he balked the other one stopped 
also when he realized he was alone and facing some sort of crazxy man intent 
on going home they left with tails all tucked away and nothing left on glove no 
meat no bone. Eye could not let it go eye turned and shouted after them "you 
punked". Remember that this man is already 53 years old lame in one foot and 
blind in one eye shorter than tall taller than them able to tie one hand behind my 
eye and walk away from the gangster fight. Eye win. 
 


Details | Free verse | |

A Thin Line

All these soldiers standing big and strong...
Who is going to catch you when you vanish from  existence
and all your dreams are gone...

The bartender ask:  What's your fancy tonight
You replied man, I don't know
Give me something that will take me to new heights

I saw a  veteran rolled up in a card board box
Death before dishonor,come on government we are not asking a lot....
A  brother down the street ,died in a telephone booth with a purple heart
in his hand
You offered a salute and a fancy band
Are you feeling me
I'm bowing to the masters on mended knee

I love this country the red, white , and blue
You come home  suffering all burned out ,and confused
Man has been tainted by war ,and destruction
People are dying like it's natural or nothing

Receiving news that another soldier has perished from afar...
You can't pretend with the mind
This phase of war will drip , drip , like time




Details | Didactic | |

The Wall Is All

                 There's no unsolvable problem,
                            just problematic
                                  solutions;

                    there's no invincible regime,
                               just poorly led
                                 revolutions.


                    There's no impartial history,
                         just the victors' version,
                                     that's all;

                    there's no racial superiority,
                               just the bigot's
                                divisive wall !


Details | Rhyme | |

Yellow


                  You whose passion for pleasures of all kind
                        Have deafened the ears and blinded the eyes
And those who can hear and see have jaundiced mind
          Endure the yellow corpses of men with hovering flies

The orchards, the blossom, the evergreen trees
           Their faces beaming with enchanting delight
             Deluded by the kiss of the spring breeze
             For, in autumn, the greenery takes its flight

The yellow autumn, the uninvited guest
 With its cold hands and fiery gaze
To devour its prey with enraptured zest
Sharpening its claws in hiding lays

The yellow faces stricken with despair
     The living corpses, deprived of all need
    Grief their destiny, woes their share
Are living embodiments of society’s greed

           Will the mighty hands of tyrants relent?
           And let the destiny of the oppressed change
You lustful souls! With hands on tyranny bent
     Allow the colour of fates to broaden their range

----


Details | Narrative | |

' A Poet, Goes To War ... '

‘ A  Poet  Goes  To  War … ’ ( Josh. 23: 10, 11 ) 


A Gentle-Poet … Goes To War
Oh … How Far … How Far … How Far …
Did You Push A Tender Heart
before Poet Finishes, What You Start ?

Just Like That Musician, Shepherd – Boy
whom a Lion and Bear, Dared Annoy          ------  1 Sam. 17: 37
Trying to Steal Some of His Precious Sheep
Poet, Showed Them … What’s His … He Keeps !

And That Same, Brave-Poet Went To War
Against Goliath’s Insulting, Roar !                ------  1 Sam. 17: 45 – 51
… But With just One Pebble Fling
That Poet’s, Sling, Thru All Of Time … Rings !

And If  A Wise-Poet Goes To War …
That Poet … May Wound and Scar                -------  Acts 7: 54, 57
For Words, Gouge Deeper Than Stones
Pen’s Mightier Than Sword … Cuts Clean To The Bone !

But, You made Poet … ‘your’ Foe, with Mock-Chimes
The First Thought … Just Give Them, Calm-Down-Time
But, Know … This Poet Thrives … Behind Enemy Lines
Forgiving and Wishing, God-Giving, Words-Divine !

‘Cause When Peace-Loving-Poets… Go To War …
‘We’ … Must Travel by:  The Bright Morning Star    ---  Rev. 22: 16
and Wait on His Orders … His Way
and I’m Cautious … Like ‘The Commander’ Says …  -- Matt. 10:16

So, Before you feel The Need To Spar                  ----  Zeph. 2: 2, 3
Before…  Big Poets … Have To Go To War             ----  Genesis thru Revelation
… Know That Such Poets … Are Word–Warriors
 … Don’t Make ‘em Go Off … on ya’ !

‘Cause you Won’t Survive … The Tongues of Fire    ----  Acts 2: 3, 4
( or The ‘ Lake ’ Either … If You Live Like A Liar … )  ---  Rev. 21: 7, 8
Gon’ Wind Up, Locked Behind Abyss’ Bars
… For Making  ‘  Poor-Poets ’ … Go To Wars !          ----  Matt. 18: 6


Details | Verse | |

Dylan's Highway Revisited

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man,
where this time have you gone?
there's a war in the desert raging
but I don’t hear your voice rising.

Look, you know I took you for your word,
closely listened to every story you told,
you had me right in the palm of your hand
with your tale of a dove lying in the sand.

When that crazy Asian war was being waged,
senators, congressmen, you mocked on stage;
the times they are a-changing, you were saying,
man, I believed you and I  joined in the singing.

History is repeating in the Mesopotamian dune
and long have I waited for your rambling tune;
where’s your harmonica and that familiar noise,
where's your poetry, where’s your angry voice!

The masters of war are on a rampage again,
sending thousands to their death, it's a sin!
strange that I don't hear you saying anything,
running out of gas, are you? you poor thing.

Maybe the years are finally catching up with you,
is it time for Springsteen to run the road show?
or are you just too busy making them records
for the next Grammy night, gunning for the gold.

Come on, make up your mind, Mister Dylan,
lend us a hand and help us make a stand;
no time to think twice for things aren't alright,
are you selling out or are you joining the fight?

Hey, hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, 
damn it, where have you gone?
there's a war in the desert raging
but I don’t see you doing anything!

 



Details | Free verse | |

After

After the shatterings, the fires.
After the fires, the darkness,
And with the darkness, the heartless cold.
After the dark and the cold
Had confirmed their dominion of the world,
Their ministers, Fear and Silence
Made their home among the remnants.

After communication was rejected
And the art of diplomacy lost,
After tolerance got dropped by the wayside
And predjudice battened fat on the tasteless fruits of ignorance,
We cast aside the desire for progress
Choosing instead to believe in shadows we built of nothing
Firmly set in one another's minds
Until at last the day came when we said,
"Let us purge the world of anyone who claims it.
Let us see they inherit the dust."

We assured one another of destruction,
Founding security on a glass sheet of terror
That shuddered beneath us
And weighted our illusion of safety
With load on load of suspicion.

No voice rose in protest, though the danger was clear to all.
We believed our leaders knew better than we,
Doubt was a weakness
Disbelief, heresy.

So we skated on thin ice a long while,
Until at last it broke, and dropped us through the Nightmare Moments
When the planet itself trembled beneath us
While Civilization slew itself,
The work of millenia scattered like chaff.

All that was left
After the horror faded
Was this ragged chaos
Through which we, bit players left wandering the stage
Drift, lost and desperate, until the curtain falls.

We sit and sift ashes for memories,
Splinters of things that once held meaning.

Journeying the cold wilderness of our making
The landscape of walking, murmuring dead
Nobility of soul becomes a luxury all desire
And none can afford.

     Last night I heard four horses approach
    Down the broken highway out of the ruins.
    Beside it I thought I saw Dante's ghost weeping
    And knew that now, madness is a gift.

    I joined the others gathered by a feeble hearth
   Guttering in the bones of a building.
   We dined together on the hollow flesh of emptiness.
   From cups of salt we drank our tears.


Details | Rhyme | |

Missing

My heavy eyes had fallen from hope to dismay.
My straining heart had risen only for delay...
Then tears that taste of salt and loss,
The taste of sacrifice, of cost.

I thought one day they'd pay respects, drink tea;
Knew one day they'd come to comfort me

But where's my son?


Details | Epulaeryu | |

Feeding a King

Bunches of Raisins and Wine.
Hunger on his mind.
The Battle left far behind.
Meat with Bread and oil.
Many pots to boil.
King David
Fed!





Based on 1Chronicles 12:40


Details | Free verse | |

Night Sounds

Yes, I heard that
The crickets stridulating
Just when day was darkening
The frogs all flat
And bass drums in need of tightening
Late owl asking
Who was listening
The quarrels of the dogs
The night's harmony rending
The guns random futility
A sleepless clamour
Of cold hostility 


Details | Narrative | |

To Shake and Stir

I often ask myself who am I?  Who am I to ask for a war to end?  Who am I to tolerate a 
war that's gone too far?  Who am I not to jump up and down in protest?  Who am I to stand 
from afar and not say a word?  My purpose in this life is to be a peace maker, a warrior of 
love, a kind person, giving more than I can imagine.  I often ask myself, do I have 
something to scream or yell that will tell people what I think?  Does anyone care what I 
think?  Hasn't this already been said in the same way, a different day, different language,  
state, country or play?  

Why do I feel trapped in a small place with a voice as loud as a fog horn lost in the 
darkness?  Perhaps, in my silent and screaming misery, I will have empathy for those true 
warriors fighting for what they believe is their purpose in life.  Even when they question the 
mission, they stay awake and obey.  Should I be the one to step in the way?  What would 
happen to me if that is what I believed to be my purpose, to protest wildly the things about 
this world that I abhor?  Would I be sent away too?  Where would they send me?  Is that 
why people are afraid to protest, they are afraid they would be protested against for their 
protest?  

I remember in the 70's when I was a little girl, the students killed, by the police, for 
protesting the Vietnam War.  They believed that was their purpose, and they were shot 
down. I just don't see anyone taking a stand against this war today?  Have we become so 
frightened for our own safety, well being?  What a diversion buying a house can be!  What 
are we afraid of?  Why aren't we saying anything really loud?  
STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP  this 
WARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!  

We want the military to send the warriors back from Iraq, back from Iraq...that is my 
purpose today-to say that.


What I believe is my purpose in life is to question the absurdities and to fight them in my 
own special way. Writing is my purpose in life.  I know my purpose will be to write and 
offend others if I have to, in order to share my point of view.  That is my purpose.  I will 
write what I think!

In America we can sit and pray for the war to go away.  But in America our voice has been 
too low and the government's say seems to have gotten in the way.  I guess that is all I 
have to say, today.  Today that is my purpose of life, to share my thoughts and feelings!


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #87 / Outside the Capitol

Outside the Capitol
a young veteran is carrying
a flag, upside-down
and a wheeled coffin containing his friend
harsh words are tossed, and a Patriot
sneaks behind, robbing the deceased of his
combat boots. Fly off!
Ah, but quicker feet! Tackled from behind!
Punches thrown! A fight!
Who is winning?


Details | Burlesque | |

LIVING LAVISHLY OR SPARINGLY

Rich people can afford to live lavishly,
squandenring money like it werent a commodity;
ordinary folks must make ends meet,
even worrying about the food they eat!

Wealth moguls like Trump or Gates
can purchase the Empire State Building,
and see their names in the Entrepreneur or Money magazine...
while we dispute those outrageous credit card rates!
 
Since Caesar imposed taxes on the Roman Empire,
freedom to spend,at will, has been reduced by desire;
now Uncle Sam is the new emperor demanding his tribute,
woe to us if we declared ourselves immune!  

Republicans and Democrats are divided on one issue:
the Iraq's war on terrorism and its credibility not so true;
while Bush's voice echoes throughout the White House' walls..
a President's courage shown in formidable ways!

The music and art world are giving in frivolity,
creating works that are insignificant and full of obscenity;
can the Human Race excel as it did yesterday...
who will step forward and stop all this insanity?

Living lavishly is only shared by the lucky ones 
who are defined by abundance and inheritance,
but living sparingly is based on sacrifice and endurance...  
learning those thrifty tactics and live within limits!
         


Details | Free verse | |

Falling Apart

My seams are busting
The thread is unraveling
Shreading my hopes

Way too much stress
I'm falling apart
Someone help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Inhale...Exhale

I'm am strong
I have faith
My children are my every breath
I have love

Ok

This isn't helping. LOL


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #8 / Who among us

Who among us would wish death on his neighbor?
Who among us would bring forth evil into the world?
If not you or I, then who?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

3Fabel7 Part two

When eye wanted to make a bicycle for the Charlaxandroidsevenone the locals 
all agreed do not try to keep it here do not lock it to our fence or we will cut the 
lock and thieve the bike away from you you there you there look away lost falcon 
the Dove is the only way to fly. Eye do not live in fear of others there but when the 
eye is not departing on the buss stopped there eye never visit the stopps 
anymore or less no need to invest in the gangers there they rest a moment's 
notice just to get the stolen goodies managed in the Tucson twilight zone. 
Now eye must be careful not to get angry and frown at my computer screen it may 
go dark again. The energy that eye direct is mostly used to hunt and peck these 
words that ewe detect when reading yours the pictures added later for effect the 
yoyo spinning down the line the top tipped up and spinning on its side the handle 
pressed on the Spinning one to make it top the gangers rule the city blocks. 


Details | Couplet | |

The War

This war has raged for many a year
Mothers & Fathers shed oceans of tears
It’s fought here at home and on foreign soil
I’m not talking about terrorist or oil
Fought from home to home and coast to coast
There are no boundaries when addiction is the host
I remember once a lifetime ago
I advocated this war with my soul
Then I devoted my mind and took a stand
Looked up at my Lord then kissed his hand
Up until that moment the day was dark as hell
For when the Lord saved me it was in my cell
There is a fact that I can’t hide
I became a traitor and traded sides
Now days I travel from jail to jail
Donate my books to the poor souls in hell
Telling them all “Please believe what I say”
“Our Lord can make this all go away”
I am a living example for the world to see
Just look at the changes the Lord made in me
Some kid said, “Boy this one got way to spun”
Homeboy pulled him aside and said, “That’s Jughead son”
Then they ask their questions and I answered my best
Told them “Take what you need and leave the rest”
I hugged my homeboy with eyes full of tears
He just caught an L with 37 years
At our age I reckon he’ll die in the pen
Someday I hope to see him again
Him and I were as close as any two brothers
I stopped by his house to consol his mother
To the mothers and fathers please never lose hope
Our Lords more powerful than all that dope
To the addicts I say, “Just look at me”
Living simple, honest, loving and free
At the end of the road my castle awaits
Provided I earn my way through the gate



   Authors note: I would like to dedicate this poem to all of the mothers, Fathers, Brothers and Sisters of addicts 
and or convicts in prison. To all the addicts I urge you to consider what your lifestyle is doing to the ones you 
love.
   A special dedication I wish to make to Mary Duhart. Mary my heart is with you always


Details | Free verse | |

DIFFERENT MISSIONS

As real as our concepts seem, 
not one of us is alike in thoughts,
in ways of doing things...  
or even creating an impressive masterpiece;
billions of minds shaped by their own inventiveness!

Different missions
demand a greater effort
to be as cunning as an artist;
desirous of knowing the odd,
the obivious or strange
when confronting a poker face,
which we rather dispose of...
or are we able to hit it with our fist?

Our thoughts are similar 
to the celestial bodies without lucidity,
shining in our mysterious Universe...
planets revolving about their sun;
and while we navigate further into it,
we discover others in our course!
What force,so powerful, keeps them
from colliding with each other,
and not cause a catastrophe so immeasurable...
enough to arouse our interest in the Divinity!

No mission is too insignificant or worthless,
our different missions accomplish 
what the human mind can only imagine:
breaking down barriers, unblocking fear;
renewing an imponderable wish...
to replenish the valor of intentions!
  
We erect statues and monuments
for our fallen heroes or famous individuals,
but ignore others with different missions:
ordinary people who made a difference;
let's honor them too, and display their rare jewels
that are hidden from everybody's eyes!


Details | Lyric | |

Who You Are, America

Red, White, and Blue,
are the colors that represent you.
All your stripes and all your stars,
has made our freedom come this far.

We listen to your pledge,
as your flag flaps on the ledge:
"O'say can you see,"
and, "the land of the free."

In every American's Pride,
you will find a soldier inside.
There's nothin we won't do,
for you, we will always remain true.

From the Revolutionary War to the War in Iraq,
we'll fight for you and never look back.
No matter the reason, no matter the cause,
we will stand up for you until the last man falls.


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #84 / Laughs all around

“No more blood on foreign soil
sleep with interns, not with oil!”
Laughs all around!


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #90 / Shall we

Ah! A beautiful day! Blue skies!
Sunlight, glistening, drips from the sides of leaves!
But no president, no congress, no media hears
silent screams fall on deaf ears.
Shall we make this audible?


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #268 / Victory

I cannot concentrate on Calculus.
For while my friends are finding derivatives,
I dream of a young girl,
an angel with a dirty face,
her mother raped, her father disappeared
into the desert like a dying sandstorm
her brother, C-4 explosives strapped to his chest,
combusted in the middle of a Baghdad bazaar.
But she, oh she, lets not a tear
slide from her face to the sandy floor
even as strange men barge in,
wearing combat boots, wielding rifles
and chanting,
“victory,
victory,
victory”


Details | Couplet | |

Catharsis of the Spray

I shall write an ode one day,
To my lord of the eternal spray,
When I can no longer walk the shore,
When I cannot endure the heat,
Of children starving in the street,
And I can no longer bear to hear,
The screams of spirits, loved ones dear,
And in my ode, I shall ask,
What workman could have forged the glass to block the darkest light from fright,
Maligning my air, my stars, my night?
What engineer could be so skilled,
To devise a foam so potent in form,
Clearing waste of human storm,
The day comes, the sea and I shall be one,
And I sing my ode as devoted son,
Waiting with kindred until child prays,
For our cartharsis of the spray.


Details | Narrative | |

Courtly Love

Submissive squire on his foot 
Helping his best knight, to put
On the weapons o’ not so cute 

Beautified horses galloping,
The sharpen swords clanging, 
And wooden poles jousting,

While this beauty, mocks by tear,
Huddling, silently, in her own fear
Because of her one and only dear

For her love,
She prays of-
“Use the speed o’ thy eyes, oh knight o’ mine
For a love to dwell, forever, in arms o’ thine!”


Details | Couplet | |

General Lee

“Let us cross the river and rest in the shade of trees”
Converse like gentlemen, with our bayonets at ease
We were once brothers, declaring independence for these lands 
Now we murder one another, for the right to shackle two hands

Where were the voices, emancipating your values from skin
Taking the glory from generals, immortalized by crimson sin
Lives were railroaded, as Kansas bled into a Missouri stream
Bodies buried in the compromise, of a transcontinental dream

Was it a War of Secession, or a rebellion of recourse
Fire-eaters scorching, an abolitionist’s civil discourse
600,000 lost, tangled in the matted wool of the rancid free
One Bloody Shirt cleansed, by Sherman’s March to the Sea

Do you still hear their viscid screams, clinging to the charred air
Mottled faces crying, broken by artillery soaked fields of despair
Gettysburg shook, as corpses crumbled under death’s rolling gait
The tide had turned, but war only recognizes one ephemeral state

I have heard of leaders, speaking on the residue of tyranny’s grave
Reconstructing a widow's faith, eulogizing the sacrifice of the brave
So why do we proudly remember, how you outmaneuvered harm
Stonewalling the Constitution, before sadly losing your "right arm"

**NOTE**  The first line of the poem is a quote from Confederate General 
Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, as he lay dying from a mortal wound at the battle 
of Chancellorsville. Upon learning of his greatest commander's death, General 
Robert E. Lee somberly responded that it was as if he lost his "right arm".


Details | Quatrain | |

Heroes

Where have all the heroes gone
In this nation facing war
Do you have faith in government now
You reap what you sew, no more.

A mother waits for the return of her son
A father is waiting for the war to be done
A son is praying for his Dad to come back
A daughter cries out, the night seems so black

Tension keeps mounting, tears have been shed
While Washington routinely tallies the dead
Where are the heroes, do they exist any more
Are the heroes the ones' protesting the war

I would die for my country and I would die proud
But over this war hangs a horrible shroud
We hear empty promises from our president's tongue
We're not saving the world, we are killing our young

There is only one fact that should not be refuted
When terrorists are caught, they need to be executed
If we don't follow it through, we can't protect our land
As death is the only answer they understand

Please don't tell us this is a necessary war
Repeating Vietnam, we've heard it all before
Tell us now as this war rages on
Where have all the heroes gone?


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #88 / Empty Pentagon

Late summer, late afternoon
in front of the empty Pentagon
the protest is over, nothing’s changed,
I’m walking home. But a young man,
black, blue jean jacket, buttons
passes in front. A smile exchanged.
The truth is known.


Details | Lyric | |

Man's complacency

Man’s greatest  strength is his mind
It empowers him though it may be twisted
and pined
Better still it has become his enemy too
For what he knows and views
  
It has weaken him by earthy temptations
So fuddled with many frustrations
 It is he that is the highest of his species 
Yet he shows little to no superiority 
In his perplexed inferiority 

Draining out from his riddled soul 
Reduplicated behaviors with little control 
With fists clinched in a primal stance 
Where power has given him an ugly glance
 
Lay on the lands on bloody soil 
Where man and women cry and toil 
A higher power has brought us here 
To grow and perspire and love and share
 
Can we turn our heads away? 
With the pain and sadness driven to stay 
Humanity must evolve some wisdom and peace 
Let the fighting and the earthy war’s cease. 

 



Details | I do not know? | |

Sedoka of War (Sedoka)


The last soul returns- 
coming from the town, ravaged 
impatiently, to the ground.

O, now I have- peace 
that never valued before, 
beaming inside my coffin.



Note:
Sedoka is unrhymed poem
With syllable counts 5/7/7. 



Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Steel

Steel that fills the skies,
Steel that supplants the mighty ocean
Steel casted hearts of bravery...
These are our guardians,
Our navy, which sets a new standard,
Our Air-Forces,
That can cover the skies
of any spot on earth...
Our men, stout of heart,
Gun at the ready....
Their buddies reason enough...
To face any odds, to take
any risk...to face any death...
So their buddies survive...
This is a small sampling of the Steel
of America...
We take our time...
We try so hard...
Not to hurt innocents...
Some take this for weakness...
But that is their's...
This country is ringed by steel,
It exports its steel bite
Whereever, and whenever,
It should choose...
Think carefully,
Save a foolish,
Hasty act....
Should show you,
And those you love,
The valley of death
Is where you have wandered.






Details | ABC | |

It is Fixable (

It does not take infinite wisdom
To fix our prison system
Or an act from the Almighty
To right our society
Revenge is a great word to use
When you wanna stop the abuse
We will call it justifiable homicide
When you take that sexual offender on a one way ride
The desert is a good place to dispose of their kind
Bury the animal so deep that nobody can find
Hack him, chop him, burn him, it's more than he deserves
He is a part of a war in this world
His punishment should fit the crime
Don't let him live off the taxpayer's dime
One bullet could save so much money
All dark days, no more sunny
Take away their weights and cable tv
Give them no free rights, strip them of their humanity
Just give them four walls to stare at all day
Castrate the rapists, they need to pay
They file their petty lawsuits
Make them earn their keep, they can grow their own food
Our government is under dillusions if they think they are in control
All of this is fixable


Details | Free verse | |

War Call

And you too are not God

"I know that."

Go away little boy
with your war games.
I don't want you to play 
with my son.

There is no war
so small or so great
no war to be played
with him.

And I too am not God

"I pray that"

We shall stand
with pen and plow
the lion and the lamb
before the time
my son is a man.

You cannot have him.
Ever.


Details | Free verse | |

A Thousand And One


I have counted 
my own dreams
to a thousand 
and one.

And if, I would put them into a book, 
it would be the perfect anthology

of happiness and tears,
of friendship and love,
of life…and death too,

that can be easily translated into 
different languages, but in whatever language 
you read me though, still, I am-- 

me, the old me, that all of you paid dearly,
for more than a thousand and one 
of wars,  

‘cos no one fully understood-- 
what they have decided and agreed
about me, peace. 



Details | I do not know? | |

Desirable Desire


To live, without fearing...
Is to breath peace- a thing 
Without gasping to make
Only gasp, for love’s sake

Oh, who does not know that
Fear makes one fatty butt
To count the toll of wars
Instead of the warm stars
  
Only gasp, for love’s sake
Without gasping to make
Is to breath peace- a thing  
To live, without fearing...

Is the sole desire of this hearty piece of write



Note:

Rhymethor is a poetic form with a title of 6 syllables, 
3 rhyming stanzas of 6 syllables, (rhyme scheme: 
aabb, ccdd, bbaa) and an inverted 3rd stanza of the 
1st stanza, with a concluding line of 12 syllables, 
representing the total number of lines.







Details | Prose Poetry | |

3Fabel7

 3Fabel7 
3Fabel7 
 
 
Busstopgangers 
 
 
CharlaXFabels 
 
Sometimes a Cowboy is sitting at the bus stopped waiting there for no one 
sometimes it is the drunk who sleeps there sometimes it is the ganger who 
stops to go threw his stolen stuff on his way home there was debris all around 
him he was uncombed hair and Mexican or worse Chinese or Asian there with 
hair all unbarbered and the bicycle was being worked on standing on its seat it 
looked like to me he was trying to make it GO somehow it was not doing just 
what he wanted it to do There was also missing pieces of the clothing from a 
backpack stolen no doubt from the place where he also took the bicycle from the 
mind brings up worry and fear in place of wonder the man looked all the world 
like thunder if it had a place to stay his face devoid of a human expression eye 
once had a biker walk up to me at the bus stop and he said he would like to 
pound me and eye asked him why and he said he was on drugs and eye had to 
actually 
leave the bus stop and catch a later tater tot buss. He was so rude and wiped out 
and stupid to threaten a citizen like that who seldom threatens anyone or wants 
to even fight a poet a statesman a love a brite lite. Function in a society of a 
poetical discourser is to remove the hatred placed upon the poor and the 
worthless lifer. 
Space Aged Technology eye just saw another worthless AD on yahoo it said they 
the gangers was not drunk enough to play so they put Captain Morgan in a can 
please let him out His men are looking for the Captain of they shippe again the 
propensities for abuse will make the men go out and kill again to get the money 
for they juice. 


Details | I do not know? | |

America ..... Free To You!

A lone Indian brave,
Sitting upon his horse,
Looking out across the valley,
The valley, so green, so lush.
What could he be thinking?
What is happening to his world?
A life unfurled, for all to see.
Come, take advantage of me.
Take all that I have,
Then leave me with nothing,
Not  even a thank you.
For this is the life I have chosen.
So that you can prosper,
In your own country,
After you have taken all from me,
And left me begging, for a meal,
For some company.
For I love you and your country,
More than my own.
It is ok that you wage war upon me,
My people, my country.
I am so glad you are a friendly country,
An allied, to me and my country.
For if not you might destroy us,
Destroy us all, 
If you were not a friendly nation,
You might come into my country,
By the thousands, by the millions, 
And take advantage of us,
Slowly, but surely,
Take over my country.
You can have it, 
As long as I don’t have to think about it,
Just let me hide in my corner,
In my corner I hide,
So I will not know the hurt,
You bring with you,
From your country to mine.
Thank you for being a friendly nation,
A country next to mine.


Details | Bio | |

Erased

From the face of this earth
people think i've died
but i've actually been replaced
by this face
that looks so familiar to most
but to others a ghost
has come into existence
and this instant
is changing
rearranging life as it should be be
with for you and love for me
no war for you, no war for you
peace with us
I love is worth more than anything
to my love, love you did bring
everything about you makes me smile
your walk
your talk 
your courtesy
The fact that you would go a mile just so you can
see me smile....
The way you hold me
kiss me 
please me
its our destiny to connect
the dots and
cross the word
puzzle and finally
see where we stand in this game
called life
but I feel i've been 
erased
from the face of this earth
no one knows just who I am
or how I feel
being a shadow to the unreal
but no worries,
I am replaced.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Forty Feet Of Henchmen

They stomp the ground
They curse out loud
They wear knickers
Old fashioned style
They tend horses
When money forces
Them into a productive endeavour
Ask them if they enjoy this,
They'd say, "Oh my God, Never!!!"

These foul souls pollute
the world
They and their secretive society,
Seems the only time they appear human,
Is when they've lost their sobriety

They're the hemorrhoids
of the human race,
Abusers, users, accusers,
They fulfill no useful role
And if it was up to them,
You'd be six feet inside the hole

Henchman, henchman,
Where are your golden words?
Henchmen, henchmen...
Your "truth" naught but turds

You stand twenty deep,
So forty feet you do keep
Time you left this peaceful valley
Or our forces we will rally,

And smite you to the ground,
While hearing your pleading sound,
So leave, and leave right now,
Or your end, by God, we vow!!


Details | Free verse | |

The Conversation

The Conversation 
Woken up tragically to the strings tied to me 
there just is what is 
my teeth chattered 
it was as if i had seen a ghost 
she read my colors and said my aura was science 
you just go with it 
and use your intuition 
but you gave information 
it was a fleeting moment 
move on 
you're too sensitive 
you're a rebel not a conformist 
what are you doing here you're too materialistic? 
you're on a spiritual path. 

You have to go to believe me 
money will be coming your way 
that bed is my dead sisters. 

Children can see it because they are more pure 
more than adults, is this your first case of Christmas envy? 

Just like 1918, the end of world war one 
Germany walked away happy they had won 
Just like 1914 the beginning of the first world war, 
this had never happened before. 
Just how world war ended in 1945 
and Mussolini betrayed his country by his side 
just like how it started again in 1939 
this had only happened once before, 
and the generation of 1914 will not pass before Armageddon. 

All people do here is work 
and live beyond their means 
i guess its all perspective 
she said the rudest thing to me today, 
and it just makes me sick, 
its only because her mom doesn't come stop and see her when shes in the city, 
i guess she's a hot topic, she says the stupidest things

We know how hard it is for you down there 
shes in a bad mood and wants to fight 
you have to think before you speak 
but on the same token 
she says these things because she wants the reaction 
so you'll push against it 

I think those lamps would look better on the mantel.


Details | I do not know? | |

the beautiful die

Dont cry, only fly ,lift you wings to the sky.
go over there where I say, you can die another day.
But if this day you are shot,I will put honer in your rot.
A hero to be , cant you see,  the beauty of your destiny.
In my war theres no sorrow, only hope you  live tommorow.
In your gut you can feel,something lacks the appeal.
Kiil your brother, kill your friend,dont you know theres no end.
blood will fly, blood will fall, dont you heed the evil call.
Maybe tommorow this war is done, only know you havnt won.
love yourself and your neighbor,this war has no flavor.
you do this cant you see, war has no destiny.
fight the evil in your books,let lose all your hooks.
feel the hatred in the sky,know you will not die.
escape forever be,now you are set free.
blessed and honerd is this day,go home and bless your way.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

America's War

They come to me as runaways from home,
I make them feel not alone,
With one needle I put their minds at ease,
If they are a female I can do what I please,
After that first high, they''v e gotta have more,
They come to depend on me, these are the kind of people I adore,
I'v e got your son stealing for me,
I'v e made them blind, they can't see,
I've got your daughter working the streets,
Your daughter best serves me between the sheets,
Thank you government for turning a blind eye,
For those senators, governors and congressmen who all get high,
Bill Clinton who didn't inhale,
For voters who allowed him a second term as well,
I have and never will use drugs myself,
I love my money and am conscious about my health.