War has come , war has come,
My home once a gem of beauty , to fires and rage it succumbed,
Powerless i watched , the desolation of man
How evil overwhelms and greed robs one of all sense
Day by Day loved ones fell,
Till our lives became nothing short of hell,
I prayed in silence fearing my inevitable doom,
For the grim reaper lays in wait ,
Thus i have resigned to my fate..
The morning sun arrived,
With the heavens granting me another day,
The screams have gone silent , with no presence of tyranny,
I run through the village searching for a sign of hope,
Till my legs grew weary and my vision grew dim,
I muster what strength i have,
Refusing to become a victim of fate,
Footsteps i hear , approaching fast,
Men with weapons with black souls drenched in hate,
As i look into the eyes of my executioner ,
with the certainty of death,
memories of my life flash , as i take my last breath,
War has come , War has come
army, bunking buds
good days, drowning deep before my eyes
never to sleep a sleepless night again
God resting every sobbing soul,
His head up high,
like a horseshoe hanging low,
I remain, lucky!
falling wounds, under my dearest darkest days
no where to go and hide
Death will find me soon,
War is a very bad thing, let me
tell you. It does not only take
away your family and childhood,
it stole my hopes and dreams
For as long as I could
remember, war was part of my
history. Like music to my ears
was gun shots waking me up
every morning, reminding me
that I wasn't wanted; dead
bodies surrounding me,
reminding me that life wasn't as
important as i thought. Rebels
shooting innocent people,
killing, reminding me that
justice was dead along with
those. As long as I could
remember war was part of my
I remember walking
from cities to cities, one country
to another with big bags on
my head. I remember looking
for somewhere to sleep,
anywhere , where the water
wasn't full with dead bodies and
justice still lived. Unfortunately
there was no such place in
Liberia because as long as I
could remember war was part of
say no to war
how pity it is
to see a young mourner
an innocent child to burry
his dead mother and father
for religious and political
falsehood causing disaster
the poor always has to fight
in other to see the sunlight
but the optimum principle
is to do right
for life has turn to war
no that guns are sore
and words are pure
for that am sure
but who cures
love they abore
materialism they adore
prevention they say
is better than cure
say no to war
like told before
a godly tree provides a good shelter
and it fruits satisfies hunger
why not live in peace and harmony
so that we all will be
free and happy
Western wars brought to foreign fields
Bullet barrages blocked by grim guillotines
Petulant petrol fans the flickering flames
Courageous captains solder soldiers together
Teething tigers ripped from mad mothers to
Carry demented decisions from bribed bullies
All hail the casket caravans of yesterday's youth
Girl with the
Girl who's striving
her head in shame
It weren’t too many years ago
I worked on the building site
The work was hard, but pay was good
And it suited me just right
I knew this bloke who worked with me
Little George it was his name
He was short, built like a bull
And Lord that boy was game.
Now he was Maori, through and through
And he hated Islanders
So one day we were in the pub
And someone George did stir
They called him a ruddy Islander
And he wasn’t taking that
And boy, that man could really fight
Just like a jungle cat.
There was six of them and one of George
And folk thought him insane
To take on all those blokes at once
But I could not refrain
From betting on that Georgie boy
Because I knew him from old
It only took our boy five minutes
To knock four of them cold.
Then I saw the other two
They were running down the street
Regretting it with all their hearts
That Georgie they did meet
I guess those guys will shrink in future
From picking a Maori man
There’s not too many that can fight
Just like a Maori can.
5 August 2013 @ 1545hrs.
Forget the future,
Wednesday, while waiting for the waiter, wanting some waffles at the Waldorf,
a woeful, wimpy, wall-eyed Walter,
witnessed a wicked, wanton woman (who was wearing a wacky wardrobe and
wiggling her whoppers)
waddle in walking with her Welch terrior
winking, wooing with wily ways,
wanting to weaken Walter’s willpower. Willing,.. Walter whistled
as wife, Wanda, walked in. Well, Wanda walloped Walter with welter-weight wrath!!
Wonder when the workmen will wash Walter off the walls at the Waldorf?
Flames roared through the nights sky.
A glimpse of blue still protruded through the flames.
The heat warmed the mortals below.
They believed that this was a great night.
The sky emulated a beautiful red color.
The color was extraordinary with remnants of blue.
They believed that they were all safe.
They were not nearly as safe.
They were witnessing Armageddon.
The war between good and evil.
For no one is safe until judgment day.
That is the day when the sky will forever remain blue.
The birds will sing a tune.
The flowers will bloom.
That will be the day.
The day when we will all be ok.
The man of might delights
in challenges of brawls.
The hardships hight his heart
to falling fields of fights,
to face foemen fearsome,
seeking to hero slay,
this leman of Mjolnir.
If I'm to be the neck
you fit inside a noose,
then spin me up a soul.
When you can define it -
and find it -
you let me know.
Until then, Mother-Father
fix your own malfunctions.
is your slaughterhouse.
I just work here.
How long, how tough
This world, just war
Endless war, endless world
Words and world, all about war.
Oh, what's war in this world?
The world's war, not yet in your world?
Wait till your words reveal the war.
I wonder, will this world end its wonders?
What an irreversible order
It's not our order!
I wonder, when will the order become a past order?
Others wonder "how will a new order be ordered?"
Yes! How long will this order make orders and not our own orders?!
I was born in Babylon
Everyday I want to be alone
I prayed not to get low
Everyday Babylon claim more soul
I just have to go, seek for more show
I grow with no shoes under my foots
Ganger is my food,
Mosquitoes sing the reggae allover my room
Webs block my views, killing my crews
What can I do to survive when am buzz
Where is that place to get crazy?
That place you cannot erase,
That camp with more space,
Where you don’t have to get late
That place where you just want to be free from
“Babylon” Babylon” Babylon…I want to be free
If there is a question, it should be about relation
My action will generate your reaction
Is substitution the way to be free from Babylon?
The game is always ON, grow horns like Capricorn
Cut the vegetables; let’s be able to be stable
the war in iraq is bad....but the wars with ourselves are the worse
because when you are fighting yourselve...who will win..you don't know
we have wars with ourselves all the time..but the wars with other countrys..
they don't come around that much...i wish the wars with myself were the same....
but you know theres nothing i can do about that...because my inner self is weak...
i fall but i get back up because i tell myself i can not give up ...i have to fight
and not give in to myself...because if you do give in to yourself..how can you be sure
that u can win against anyone else? thats the thing...you can't...
A grotesque gamer gobbles gummies grunting gleefully at his game.
Sounds of slaughter spewing from the surround sound speakers.
The cunning commando combats a clearing 'cross countless cretins.
Validating his victory only after violently vanquishing the virtual villains.
Slit slice open
cut carve enter
rip rape start
pull power enter
unfold unveil reveal
secrete spilled shaken
explode embroider envelope
grope grip fondle
pull pry panic
stab stun bomb
decapitate dunk drown
shove sharp fall
skin slink spray
steam stream stumble
jeopardize jump jilt
cream crumple capture
It is not in parades or days
We find the fitting honors.
It is not in displays or ways
We bring our veterans praise.
The highest honors silence knows
Is in hearts and eyes and poses.
In hearts that burst with gratitude
And eyes where weeping flows.
In poses where the comrade stands
Stretched tall in firm salute.
They honor others with their hands
Without a word, stand resolute.
In silence lift our veterans.
In honor, stop and remember when
A father, mother, son or daughter
Gave themselves for the brethren.
Silence comes and calls: “at ease”
And comforts loved ones lost.
We too find solace and reprieve
While heaven cares for these.
villain's make weapon's
made like blue feet
lighter than light
and greener to see
oceans are brighter
and rounder than skies
people are frightful
and leave with their mind's
blue worlds with green eyes
escaping our dies
believing your eye's
soldiers are bleeding
running and dies
cleaner than evil
new bodies and lives
a rainbow of weapons
and peaceless sleeps
makes new wonder's frown
to create new peace
What's that flirts in the distant horizon?
Up from the hottest lands of frozen.
Is the clouds of Grey?
Or is it the darkest of rays?
Is it the canopy that covers hope/
Or is it the breath with which the hearts get chocked?
Oh! Its dull than the dullest of weather -
As if allthe seeds of daekness in it hath gathered -
Its the smoke -
The smoke of destruction,
The smoke of friction,
The smoke of blemishe'd motion.
The smoke - rushing up from the clutter of engines,
The smoke hath engulfed the country regimes,
The smoke in the din and bustle,
The smoke in the parties and dazzles.
Whence peace was settling itself under the sun,
Many, a lot did thump with their guns,
The smoke curved its way out from here and hence -
It did pale and brush the love's fence.
Whence the path was straight
A lot we all did fret,
Now whence the smoke hath filled the bower,
We'll have to climb the curvy hazy stairs up to the heaven's lower.
Bombs bursting bunkers beds
Sadam suddenly soils shorts
Army Airforce Alies Allegence
Condem Country's Crooked Coward
Send Our Troops Home
As I ambled through a maze of stony monoliths
on a manicured green grassed carpet.
My sadden eyes were overwhelmed with myriad
names and dates of yesteryears deceased.
Each encounter confronted conveyed to me
a sad reminder of Mans mortality.
All had some story to tell if they could speak.
Most I hope died naturally, others unnaturally.
Their demise, a mise en scène mournfully staged
for the most part many agonized years ago.
Suddenly like a fated mirage my son materialized.
A victim of a vicious war fought on foreign soil.
I knelt before his grimly, graven grave
and placed a flag and flowery wreath ..then wept.