White paper boat
Her image fled among the trees
his realness to intercept,
some Christmas day, with scenes inept,
beneath dark clouds and deathward freeze.
A sergeant of Marines he was
who served and fought for many years,
commanding, hence, the volunteers,
instructing e'er the warfare laws.
The coffee, on the mountain glen,
at twilight dark of wintertime,
his Christmas warmed (recalled a chime),
the M16 A4's his friend.
A ranger, served elite brigades,
but could not tell how life was lost,
his apparition of a ghost,
that fled to slopes and pure cascades.
But he recalled a Winter morn,
received her mail; on streamlet banks,
next to the seething tracks of tanks,
he read her vows, on paper worn.
He never knew to phrase response,
and also thought she would not wait;
his quantum was devoid of fate,
proscribing stronghold, Christmas sconce.
On thawed snow-stream her worn mail goes,
white paper boat, comrade and guard,
his stare kept up, he was shot hard,
upon the snow, two qubits froze.
© 11-22-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Epic, Iambic tetrameter)
The blade is frozen - feels like ice,
arcane the skies of winter's war,
'the Valkyries' bold entice
today to fight alongside Thor.
This great of days is best to die,
the snow, white shroud, persists around
to slowly muffle his war cry,
on skyward Kingdom he'll be crowned.
© G. V. 07-27-2013
In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die,
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown,
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…
Copyright © 2013
From the Gardens of Babylon,
to the walkways of Palestina,
to the grand temples of Jerusalism,
to the sandy beaches of Syria and Cyprus.
Went my Persian Queen riding,
upon her golden, firery chariot.
Her black hair, like silk long and flowing.
Her royal robes white and purple, bare and pure.
Her sword by her side, ready to strike.
Her spear fastened, ready to stab the dreeded heart
of the Fire Dragon.
On the firery chariot, riding with her armies,
Went my Perisan Queen.
O, how my arimes fight your armies,
in the midst of night fall, under a full moon.
Let us stop this foolish fighting.
And have fellow brother, love fellow brother.
And so we can fall in love forever.
And don't act like you don't show love for me.
I see you in the dawns, standing upon the sand covered battlefields.
Standing proud behind your armies.
With your black hair flowing.
You almost making me want not to fight the battle of the Day,
for if you were killed, what victory would that be then?
You pull your armies back at the last minute, before I am slayed
by your fellow brother in arms.
You retreat your arimes back over the hills, not in fear of losing the day,
but in fear of losing me.
You and your armies had plenty of chances to kill me, yet you do not.
My Persian Queen, O come now.
Come down from your firery chariot
and into my restless arms.
I know you are tired
and wanting to sleep.
Listen to the nightingale
sing her love song.
Drinking the sweet necture,
from the gardens, in your vase Persian Empire.
Come now, and kiss me,
Hold me, let us ride,
far from the simple minds of the Old World
and fall in love in a New.
My Persian Queen
O how I love you so much.
I cannot bare to see you in a life you don't want to live.
Come let I, your Knight in shinning armour liberate you.
Take you by the hand, run through the great bazzare in Old Istanbul
running away from the Janissaries of your father's Imperial armies.
Let us leave this place of hate and sorrow.
To start our lives a new.
My Persian Queen,
Now dressed in silk lace,
with golden jewlery hanging
from your beautiful and tender neck.
Along with the silver pattened belt around your harmonial waist.
It is time for you, to come with me.
No more shall we act like we dispise one another.
As Romeo and Juliet's love failed,
shall our love take course, and we shall love
till the oceans swallow the earth, the mountains crumble,
and the Sun engulf the sweet Earth.
And on and on shall our love go on,
My adorable and lovely Persian Queen.
I took my arm i wore my shield
Got Sown in the unknown field
In the name of peace we stand
Playing a role we do not understand
Anthems of the flock ringing in my ears
They all do not know but have been told
Noise of agony filled my hearing
Scenes of doom tore my being
I see visions of my abandoned home
O son will i ever see you grown?
Pulled back for an instant..
Keep on marching before they get you whining
Brothers in arms were we?!
Friendly fire got me..
The physical pain ,
is not enough to drain,
I'm a law abiding citizen
ready to relax
fire lights ,ignite
echo , wind claps
lightning flashes across water
animals fly across sand ,
flames get hotter ,
wave ,water ,
glass shatters, break,
straight forward ,
life , no mistake ,
I hunt threw the eye's ,
as I create ,analyze fate,
dragon in the cloud breathing fire
threw your gates ,
Flintstones head shot
sleeping bedrock ,
50 / 50 split
sure why not ,
hallow ,empty a clip,
living long ,lasting
E A !
It's in the game
HAVE YOU EVER PLACED
BEFORE YOUR FACE
THEN SAID GRACE
THAT YOU CAN EVEN PLACE
AND SEE YOUR HAND BEFORE
(These words are dedicated to our veterans
who have fought in foreign wars to keep us free
who can't do that simple thing)
SAPPHO'S SISTERS Song of Ulysess
is this Sappho to whom i speak
the bride of lesbos with the low forbidden voice
who climbs the rocky mountains’ dangerous peak?
call in the blue daughters of twilight to rejoice
in the bursting spring.
war weary are my men--- far from familiar arms of home.
she , obliging, twirls her tantalizing songs and lyre--
lights my camping soldiers with the fire
of her bold call-- vibrates them with darkness of unknown desires
but she, unknown to me, orchestrates a horrid tune of tragedy unforeseen.
sirens of her sisters , assisting, yearn--
ablaze in fragrant beauty unmanly to resist--
the lyre of Sappho spins the tune that turns the doom of noble heads
the most valiant heroes desert their posts-- slaves to lush open arms that hold them ‘til they burn.
Victoria Anderson Throop ©
(rewrite from 2012)
From: Governor Silva, Lucias Flavius
To: Commander, Legio X "Fretensis"
The Judean slaves finally finished the assault ramp.
Order the centurions to roust the legionnaires from each camp.
Give each of your legionnaires extra water and a double ration,
Then assemble the squares and set them in motion.
The last of the defenders are cowering behind the wall.
Well before nightfall, I should expect Masada fortress to fall.
Among Eleazar Ben Yair's Zealots are Sicarii assassins,
So ensure that each prisoner taken is searched for hidden weapons.
Capture as many as you can of them to be sold for slaves;
But toss all their dead off the cliffs--don't bother digging graves.
It may still be awhile before the Tenth Legions rotates back home;
When that day comes, I'm sure Vespasian will honor you all before Rome.
I can use the letter s with so many s words,
I am the seventh sign supreme soldier from the reservation suburbs,
I fly like seagull in the open ocean sky supreme like an serpant eagle eating birds,
I am so solid Im siked and sipped up from the sizzy sizzurp,
I stagger until I swerve swiftly as snake in the souless society lost curbs,
life so crooked it stained with soaked blood life around death curves,
I cant believe so many lost soveriegn souls *****on they own siblings as the culture turns,
I know I am sure of being sure of what I sought to learn,
The brain with suicide can sometimes burn.
Souless savage in society I be among little certain satans, lost in circles saying "7th Sign Empire Engraving"like my own still souls of savage culture on certain colors discriminating,
But whats even worse is soul on souls hating,
Society severed in broken circles still forsaken,
Serpants searching society split in seven different groups of seven hundred seventy-two,
Forsake my Se7en and I forsake thee seven times seven fold because truth be said Im souless to you,
Se7enth Sign Supreme Solid Serene Soldier of of the sacred seven,
I say I have always said society on my word S
Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival,
I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches
Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
He holds the key to this new world.
The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience
Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped
Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence
Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped
Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.
My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
Our intrepid journey commences...
my friend scrolling
all I'm ever doings searching
upon the nets of mother spider - tis the nature of the beast
with sharper teeth a bigger mouth-without famine is no feast
For I once had known a leper who was eaten by leopard
Now the sheep have taken arms but to rip apart the Sheppard
what a subtle revelation in my mind I've found vacation
but the sands of time do torment those who choose an allocation
cometh now my saddest child, weep to me all things are foul
I have wandered fields of flander - Families dead inside their camper
death is still above the reads, skin and bones is all we keep
wooded hampers full of damper, sons and daughters, tin decanters
In his heart he holds courage,
In his hands he holds our lives.
A Brave Soldier he may be, but only at the the front lines.
He is weaken by all the death,
He is haunted by there souls.
For he knows in this battle, hatred rules one's goal.
He does not fight for hatred,
He fights for there lives instead.
Cause he knows hatred has no value, when so many are dead.
As he lays in death, knowing it will come,
He glances at the sky and makes peace with all he's done.
For on the battlefield, life is as precious as gold.
And one must always choose should it be friend or foe?
He closes his eyes and hopes in his death no more victims will fall.
But, in his heart he knows his country one day will call.
For A Brave Soldier to take the front line and give there his life as he,
He just hopes all are content knowing A Brave Soldier he will always be.
T' was the night before Christmas
At a house made of stone
There lived an old man By himself all alone
My sleigh stopped on the roof
With my presents to give
For the owner of this house
It's were this man do live
But when I did go there
What a strange sight did I see
No fairy lights no baubles
Not even a tree
No pictures of family Hung on the wail
Just medals and such like Was all I could see
An old soldier was sleeping Curled up on the floor
No bed no mattress As he slept by the door
Then I remembered the families
That I went to that night
Owed all of their freedom
From young men who were Willing to fight
Quite soon the whole world
When children would play
And parents soon celebrate a new Christmas day
And I started to wonder How many young men
Far away from their home In a far distant land
How many felt that they were alone
That terrible thought Invoked me to cry
And I fell on my two knees And started to pray
For I have no family No children no wife
But I do thank my lord For saving my life
This old man awakened And I heard his sweet voice
Say a prayer for me Santa But this was my choice
For I have fought for freedom
And I cannot ask for more
My god is my whole life And my freedom is for sure
Then the soldier looked up at me
it's Christmas tomorrow that's true
On your way Santa you have so much to do
I looked at my watch And I knew he was right
"merry Christmas my friend And to you a good night "
In the presence of battle
Surrounded by smoke
Everything goes silent
Your heart pounds
As you realize
For a minute that you are alone
On that battlefield
Risking it all
For the fate of your country
You are a soldier
A soldier of God
And then you pray
Kneeling on the ground
That minute stretches on
Then you march
Onward and fight
The fight of faith
Guided by that holy light
It seems all will see
At one point
Finally, that prayer seems to make the difference
As you win that battle
Here we go men! Into the valiant fight!
Where men become men and cowards flee our sight!
Iron will clang and feet will race;
As bullets are thrown at a frightening pace!
Men will be thrown and cries will be heard –
As we fly our way through the smoke like a bird.
But in the end we shall acquire our victory;
And together we’ll go down in the great epic of history!
a flag flown at half mast
a salute remembered that was the last
a star placed behind a glass
a quiet gathering to bury a lad
a moment of silence for those that past
the respect and honor for those
that died in the blast
a bugle playing Taps for what could not be
a flag folded and then passed
then the soldier lowered into the ground
feels that glory from all a round
his body lies at rest
but his spirit receives that which is best
to know that by his countrymen he was blessed
to a soldier that died in combat that is best
my grandpa was an ex-KAR soldier
that was before he died
he fought in WW2 as a teenager
but the so called hero
by the ones who wrote our history
was not able to build himself a house
a story of war
must a soldier fight for what's not his?
put in a course he cannot alter?
Ewe Aer Mye Destination
When the end of time rings
it comes with a bugle call.
Just like in the army
when all the fun begins.
The enemy comes to call.
The Trumpet of the ^A^ngels
will sound a ^V^ictory Sound.
All the dead shall rise
and some will live again.
This soldier gave his life
so that all his men could live.
A place inside the doorway
is where I will begin.
Just south of and outside of
Where I want to dwell
is just three feet from the door.
But Inside where the grass
is dewed on.
Where the mirror of mye soul
can come to be with me up there.
When her final battle with despair is ended.
She will have a place with me.
Iff this old soldier makes it.
So will She.
As the Soldier stands ready to fight,
The thunderstorm rolls in with its might.
Turning the day into night.
As the wind sweeps the sand like a broom,
Off in the distance the artillery booms.
Mixed with the sound of the thunder booms.
The Soldier is silent throughout the scene,
With a look that’s calm but lean and mean.
He has no fear because he is with his team.
The thunder gets weak and fades away,
But the Soldier was still standing that day.
Thanks for protecting and showing me the way.
The price for freedom was paid today
On scribbled parchment, sanguine letters writ in blood
Of hidden tales, broken pages smeared with mud
An unknown soldier, his blood he lie
With glint of sword, his death is nigh
A scar on the body, an ache in the heart
Blades in the dark, cut his chest apart
In his sorrow, with his dying breath
He called to his dearest Elizabeth
For never again would he see her face
‘Twould be here he died, this abysmal place
The war had begun, some fifty years hence
This soldier unknown fought for a sixpence
His gentle soul ripped by the horrible conflict
That artists of the gilded age could never quite depict
On the field of valor, were armies a’massing
‘Twas nought but bodies as sign of their passing
The head of the line led a cavalry charge
As arrows shot past, betwixt shield and targe
With iron-forged pikes upwardly thrust
To satisfy the wicked Gods’ bloodlust
Cries in anguish rang out cold as steel
Sheering flesh from bone, with fanatic zeal
With each death, came a tear fell from Heaven
The forgotten soldier, unidentified number eleven
Which side won the battle could not be told
Such death and carnage, history alone could be so cold
Through passage of time and the set of the sun
Came the dawn of a new age, the era of the gun
A weapon of such power that no armor can shield
That strikes such fear that the courageous yield
Could the forgotten soldier have known this to pass
How could he foresee land mines and poison gas
This is what we make of the cause he died for
To repeat the same mistakes, to continue his war
With a whimper or a scream, how does Humanity end
An unjust war on the horizon, on you it will depend...