we our souls will spend our time repenting
but the body of truth always comes to light
in drawing an end to come with true believers
so they can see the many faces of the devil
greed in this world money takes over always
as they worship first with the devil’s tools
invading our space all for the sake of black
liquid gold tainted hearts in its color so pure
shame on this world absolutely for mankind
has not learned at all given profound problems
aplenty and stands the testimony of our times
while war does not resolve anything—death’s end
only when family lives are directly affected
they have the fighting right to protect and live
wherever they choose but we are all controlled
and always told what to do openly or furtively
in a system rolling unto the end of mankind
shut eyes in the face of truth and honesty
the whole setup is a joke makes one laugh
countries run amok and history repeats itself
doing the devil’s work at command or by one’s will
while throwing our money around with profligate zeal
like they are usually royalty by some birthright and
this says so much for the world we live in today
looking at their greed it’s oh so clear for all to see that
with food dished out on silver cutlery and others starving
our priorities have run afoul of charity and common sense
running everything into the ground to support their lies
present catching the past and past is the future’s prologue
Earth soon develops a chasmic breach at depths reaching a
heart's song unheard powers unchanging with a most awful
and pronounced Quest of more which destroys the very Soul
in a such a pitiful world so desolate and blind
are pure souls who wish with love to shine bright
one chance will come with a golden sun shining
but will human kind seize the golden glory at hand
two paths lie in tomorrow’s dawning shadow dark—
the path to the end or to the new beginning for mankind
we live ever together striving for a peaceful endeavor
we live at war forever on the very fringes of Hell itself
the way to Armageddon lies open and wants to greet us
the way to the golden life of peaceful bliss is still possible
but at tomorrow's dawn do we change our path or will we
sing the song of stupidity and be dark from tomorrow on
We must have peace . . . In Our Time or Perish Forever!
Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke –
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(December 4, 2014) (Quatrain unrhymed poetic form)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014
(a place no one has ever been)
We live out in da country
Miles away from anyone else
Papa and six boys, well, we're young men now....just sayin
Momma died at childbirth when baby brother was born
Love it here, cept at night, sleepin through “the howlin”
Big old wood frame house, island by grassland; den da forest
We keep a farm of pigs, goats, even cows; what da heck for ?
Every night Papa slayed an animal; laid it at da edge of da woods
Never new why until he called us six boys together one creepy night:
“Boy’s, listen to me, listen good….your Papa’s dying,
It won’t be long
The last 20 years, your Momma and I set out here a sacrifice
I don’t know what in God’s name is out there
This thing ain't human
Notice how it’s quiet for a while so you can get to sleep
It’s feeding time
Damn right, it’s eating the sacrifice
Long as we put them dead animals out
When I’m gone, it’s up to you six
Be my Nightwatch, ya hear me boys !
You all are men now
I love each one of you very much”
Father finished da story, den...
Said no one ever been in dem neck of doze woods
He bought property twenty (20) some years ago;
Prior owner told him da whole story
In a way I look at dis big monster as our protector
I've heard screamin at night, den da 'howlin'
O man, den dis loud munchin, chompin, chewin masdacated cry
Den more 'howlin'
Call da police ya say? No way. We safe...
So long we feed him, or it
At night: WHOAAA am scared to death
Papa's been gone a few years now
It’s up to us six to offer up da sacrifice
We older now and don’t all nestle up in one bed
Howlins still be, but we sleep at night best we can
Hated killin doze animals, deys didn’t do nuttin wrong
Dares no other way; we twied once and almost got ourselves scavaged alive
Am not goin out dare, never, not to
A place where no one has ever been
Copyright © Thomas Carney | Year Posted 2014
A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
through silent valleys
around the earth
through the wind
The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
their ambient warning
Gust to gust each fades
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts
The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird
Two brittle forms
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
what can never be touched
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt
six feet deep.
Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015
Walking threw the mist of the night,
on the path that lead deep into the forest, in absence of sound;
from one whom was bought, no body shell be found,
of those who might be lost, homeward bound,
as we raven through this hollow ground.
Cross sentences that are incomplete, fractions that make you weak,
threw words that you learned so well, life is a living hell,
don't front and pull back, end of line, number check,
in the story and on track, blank page,
Copyright © Miche Ulman | Year Posted 2013
Frozen and numb
Dwelling in my cold shadows
Shivering me deeply inside
A devil I am
Finding solace In Hell
Where Love is Evilly Blind
Melted and burnt
Relaxing in my warm flames
Comforting me deeply inside
A god I am
Finding solace in Heaven
Where Evil Is Lovingly Divine
Copyright © Guy Mearns | Year Posted 2015
When chaos brings civilization to its knees
From world wide pandemic critical disease
Or when a tsunami consumes everything beyond the shores
Swallowing the landscape and changing life as we know
Earthquakes shake the very foundation of this world
Or an astroid penetrates the cradle of birth
Bring us back to the primitive unleashing the truth
From the umbilical chord we are more ferocious than rabid wolves
And we will kill fellow man just to survive
Or just for the desire of taking ones life
What is compassion but a dead corpse on the road
Adrenalized by fear no time for sorrows
No need to worry about a world war zombie apocalypse
We're already flesh eating monsters wearing dead skin
Most people panic when they lose internet or their lights
Autonomy is just a word most people can no longer define
And your money isnt worth *****so forget trying to buy
Your way out of cleansing while you run out of time
So learn to die well and hold your loved ones real tight
As you pray that your death will let you ascend to new heights
Beans, bullets, and bandaids are all that I'll need
To keep population zero from taking over me
**** being hopeful could we really be so naive
To think that in these days we could some how find peace
When our mother earth gets restless and releases all of her worst
The only thing more destructive is our human nature
Copyright © Jesse James Forster | Year Posted 2013
Pardon me bleeding piece of earth
I see your excruciating pains
Like a pregnant woman in labour date
Loosing her beauty along with stains
Creatures atimes welcome evil as fair
Slowly quelling nature in nature rage
Visiting souls in journey not fare
Mother earth our boat through age
O' remember us in your days
For you are still our home
Good or evil you richly repays
So lets find her freedom
Come, come the earth is crying
Lets find a way to stop her dying
Copyright © Mathias Yakubu | Year Posted 2011
Two thoughts come to mind this morning. The deficiencies in our
systems of governance -
local, global --
and the first two pages of The End of Faith in which he mistakes political
(acts of war) for
but recognizes understanding the workings of the world is not the same
Every new twinge provokes fear but what is there to fear? That
The year of a man is the day of an inchworm and 267 years on a
A billion of anything is a lot unless it's the distance one must traverse to
How much silence, or tinnitus, can you handle? A chipmunk cannot for
Once the twinge passes I'm off to the next task: building a constituency
for this compassion,
The dialogue starts with a question. To know the question is almost
certainly to find
Conflating questions is the commonest of logic errors. No negotiation
Why not talk while we fight? We can always kill, torture or assassinate
Justice, or retribution if you want, can remain on the table even after we
Nature is my religion, I know no other, and community is my church.
is policy debate. I attend church everyday. Our jobs are hymns (the
and payment for services rendered is sung praise and gratitude. Walking
Strategies to limit or subvert discussion are the only evil. Violence
but not by far the only one. What's the hurry to build a highway or free
The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time and time is the mercy
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
At the end of Mulberry street
stood a massive old and weathered oak.
With an owl rested there every night , just waiting
for the right meal to wander by,
then silent wings swooped effortlessly down
the massacre hardly made a sound at all.
I watched from my bedroom window each night to
see this act of natural savagery and the feast
Even saw a black kitten become the monster's meal
Yet never did I think of it as barbaric savagery
because man eats whatever he wants with arrogant glee
As master over all creatures and with contempt
for the weak and lame,
Throat cut and bloodied the cow so peaceful
becomes next day's burgers and we bat not an eye.
Unholy indifference reasoned to be a normal act
by we lords of the earth, we takers of all weaker
Great to find the old Mulberry still a launching pad
after these past decades.
And man changes not except his clothes and his
ideas on his superiority over known and unknown Universe.
Robert J. Lindley
April 7th. 1992
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
You think you’ve gone just far enough,
I could smile knowing you’ve gone far enough that you can’t go back again
You think you were careful but,
I’ve caught a glimpse of your true, wretched form
You think you can find a way into my good graces
I’ve seen what you are, monsters with a friendly costume
You can’t deceive me anymore and, I don’t consort with serpents
You think I’m a game to be played but, trust me, you could never win
Don’t underestimate me
You think I’m a joke but, trust me you won’t be laughing
You think I’m just talking myself up but, trust me, you’re the ones going down
My eyes took too long to adjust
Better late than never
It may take a monster to know one but, I promise my teeth are sharper than yours
My first reaction to the hideous revelation that was your form was to weep
Fall to my knees, maybe even wretch my heart from my chest and onto the carpet
Then I thought about the mess it would make
I decided the only blood that will spill, will be your own
I was not weak, but I had a weakness
A heart of soft gold stitched to my sleeve with care
Now my heart is a stone so heavy
I could kill at least two birds at once
Being the nice guy is a thing of the past
Thanks for freeing me of that softness
You thought I was all sunshine and delicate things
When really I had just been swallowing razor blades
Now that sun is setting and I hope you see it was you who were wrong
Can you feel my darkness coming, because it’s eager to hold you
If you thought I was the one who would just stand still or turn to run
Your gonna be the one with tired feet
I’m not sad anymore
Just sick with the plague of your lies
Contagious, and I’m looking for someone to kiss
Even angels can make themselves wicked
When we do, we take no prisoners
Still think I’m a game
This one is just beginning
Copyright © Alexander Schwartz | Year Posted 2013
Wind upon the crag
fanned moorland fire kills.
Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2012
I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
I twist my speech to seem, and be, as white and spotless bone.
Silence 'flecting, like a mirror, on the wall to show
man, so hypocrite and liar. This is who we are.
Man! The curse of sin has brought you far,
into the pits of lusting pyre. Engulf our spirit's flame.
Set afire desire for spit and skin,
bitter sweat, blood, and orifices.
The dawning of Aquarius. The sun has set on Pices.
This crooked generation, like as Sodom and Gomorrah.
As that faithful Lot, I am, and live amongst the tares.
My neighbors live and speak as I, when I can find no faith.
I guilty of the same as they, the Scripture saith.
I e'er be found in heaven... it be not that I am good.
Nor can I love God enough to trust Him as I should.
My own love and faith is full of fault and fear.
My faults and fears, my sin, is loud and clear.
If Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
impute not Life, a man is lost.
Copyright © Chris Tian | Year Posted 2014
As early instinctive predilections erected
a shadow appeared in my mirror.
A more safely remote "Problem of Evil"
evolved into THE problem of my own irresistible Evil nature:
My longing to love mutually beloving relationship
that could only be naturally good and true
if spiritually "evil."
Yet when I spoke with Elder trees,
listened to mourning dove sighs,
watched seasons surf with equipoise values,
I felt omnipresence
still-struggling toward an eco-diastatic culture
of radically inclusive omnipotence,
Natural systems seemed bisexually organizing and regenerative,
or human nature cannot thrive,
a bicameral balancing head within Earth's Nature-Tribe.
Evil evolves more justly
when spelled backward.
My Solution as Live
as polyculturally cooperative as possible.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
The best of nature lies in thy bosom
mother Africa, the toast of continents
your strength and opulence draw
kings and nobles to endless
rift of spoil sharing and gun trotting.
Africa! The strength of
the universe, the last bride of
nature with sumptuous virginity
from Somalia to Kenya, deep
down the creek of Delta to
the arrogant diamond of the
Zulus, earth cannot rival
thy blessing and extravagant
Shameless kings seek second
dominance in oil rich north
with flying birds and explosions,
they sowed corruption in Naija
they brought AIDS and HIV with their planes
and then send grants to mock us
Yet the African spirits wax stronger!
inside thee lies peace
endowed by creation, but
these evil emissaries of
violence sowed poverty
and grief in thy land
knowing the volatile nature of
thy productivity. Alas, in torrent
we have reaped pains and bloods,
four years drought in Kenya, two
months xenophobia in south Africa,
endless genocide in Sudan
endless NATO assault in Libya
with piracy holding sway in
Somalia, oh mama Africa!
yet thy love intoxicates me
like the tribal white wine of Iwaya!
they tell our stories in biased satellites
they label us evil and apish
oh Mama Africa, arise, arise !
out of thy trial in awesome purity.
Arise! Arise! Arise!
Arise from thy slumber and give
hope to our fleeing children!
Bring them from the south,west
and north and let the
eastern hemisphere release
Now there is war in Africa
but soon there shall be
unassuming peace and
discoveries of earth
noble secret in thy enclave.
Copyright © GABRIEL LOLA | Year Posted 2011
I was walking down at Green-bank park
Rather frightened as it was dark
There I fell into this ditch
And came across the most gruesome witch
At first she scared me half to death
As she sat there to my left
Her nose more pointed than I had seen
Face covered with moles and eyes so green
Her jacket was torn her hair was a mess
And holes were ladders to the hem of her dress
Before I could catch my breath with time
She began to sing some words of rhyme
Rickety .. Rackety I am a friendly witch
Be my friend and I shall grant you a wish
Just don’t you listen to all they say
Look here us witches are happy and gay
Look here us witches are happy and gay.
Then she told me a story of a witches life
Condemned bad and gone was her right
Burnt at the stake long in the past
But no evil spell did she ever cast
Just helped the people of the wood
For it was not them that misunderstood
It be the greedy ones of her time
Then took the medicine and called it mine
Then took the medicine and called it mine
So the tale they tell of Halloween
Is far from the truth, from what I had seen
Just look little girl as you will see
I may be ugly but evil not me
The cats we kept took care of the mice
And the hats we wore kept our ears from ice
We cleaned our homes with shrub broom
As rosemary and lavender fragrance our room
As rosemary and lavender fragrance our room
Do tell do tell of our nurses today
Witches the same in their own kind of way
Potions and tonics from the herbs of old
Combine the mixture of modern parocetemol
These wise and gentle ladies of our past
Only took upon one the doctors task
So little ‘O’ bright girl, now do tell me your view
Of withes and nurses do tell who’s who
Of witches and nurses do tell who’s who
Oh sweet lady for judging it is I whom feel the fool
But your memory is of evilness of that you were so cruel
In a sense, innocent I now know you to be
So I shall not run, I shall not turn and flee
The wish of that I ask, to be that of your friend
Now I truly understand this message that you send
No more shall I be afraid or listen to their say
Of all you witches now I know to be so happy and gay
Of all you witches now I know to be so happy and gay
Rickety….Rackety I’m just a friendly so said witch
I possess no magic to grant you a wish
I only cared and took the sick in hand
Using the remedies produced by our land
Using the remedies produced by our
Copyright © julie dalby | Year Posted 2008
I stand here at the edge of the field
Looking and wondering when the water will yield
As I watch the water flow out of sight
I simply wonder what happens at night
You see the river is similar to our life
It has its shares of peace and strife
It is not a straight road that is followed
Parts of it high, others hollowed
It starts out straight then slowly changes
As human emotion that has many ranges
Then all of a sudden it starts to turn
As friends disrespect us and leave us burned
It is filled with things both evil and good
As us good ones who swear they are hood
But all along the riverbed flowers stand nice
To make it look pretty and add some spice
The flowers are there to live off the water
As an evil friend standing with your son or daughter
They make us think they are here for us
But when bad things happen we're first under the bus
No one really sees past the horizon
Whether it is being drunk by deer or bison
We can only see life as far as our hand reaches
Always remember it is not always sun and beaches
God has a plan for each of our lives
Even when it looks like we're headed for a dive
As the river flows not knowing where it's going
Just hand your life over to the all knowing
Copyright © Steve Malebranche | Year Posted 2007
Winter never surrenders,
It ploughs through the soul
And freezes the people.
For all time its fierce fangs
Inject bitter venom
Into its victims.
Some fall prey of a sudden
Trapped beneath the surface
Of the ice. Others fall asleep,
Unable to fight any longer.
Still some brave the bite
For the sake of others
In order to help them
Safely return to spring.
But winter conquers,
Such is life they say,
Though they wish
Copyright © Mary-Catherine S. | Year Posted 2014
In the Winter of 83 they used to tell me stories the snow was over the telephone
lines and they rode horses there and walked them OVER the lines see eh? Oh
ewe beware the stories of men and read only the charlaxfabels over and over
again. The worst one was back in 2005 the snow was four feet deep they took
machetes and tore my roof off my survival tent.
1 Peter 3:9
Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this
you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.
Eye moved my shelter somehow avoiding a fight and learned just to survive
survival is eating food. Men eat and fight and eating becomes the more important
of the two what kind of neighbor would eye be if eye had fought with thee and not
learned the Golden Rule. Eye lived several different lifetimes sack lunches do not
suffice to rule the hunger in one man. Once eye was worried for existence
seeming Death was at my door. Women thought me evil not suited up just for
they love. Fruit is not my forte orange apple even pomegranate found
persimmons rot on vines in trees not meant to live. Eye ate so many meats they
kicked me out of storeage land and chased me from the parking lot with nothing
in my hand. Potatoes is a fruit and not a veggie in my world. Golden throbbing
corn is afforded to the poor ed.note @39 cents a can at most retail outlets.
Hominy both gold and white is my favorites. Eye just decided to detective the
students many behavioral ways and iff eye had three classes in the afternoon
even if they were staggered over SIX hours the eye would not be in the library
more than thirty minutes at a time. Be that as it may or as it were the ending is
the same eye am a student of life. Walk in an endless path with snow up to the
waisted place then dry the socks in bags and tie them to the feet and hope the
dry will stay to un rot the flesh and hope the shoes will work and not develop
sticheing of the holes in the side of doors and tankards full of glass. Coyboy is
the last to understand a memory taken in the hand.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
A dream or vision one hot afternoon one day
A fell then thee evil enemy had came play
Being filled with much fear, so he wanted to steer
I had been driving in a car his house I found at night
Needing to stop for a rest his house be the only in sight
Social able and gracious he had invited me in
This is how the enemy plays his tricks
He was old and grey at least his face did display
“You look like an honest and loving chap stay here for a nap
There is nothing to fear no one can find you here”
No stars were above in the sky but yet I did not wonder why
The enemy had played one of his tricks
“Look at all these possessions that I have”
“They can all be yours if I find that you are worthy”
“Allow me to show you how you can create them”
“Here ye is the secret in how one controls the wheel”
Desires to steal the soul is why the enemy plays his tricks
Then he offered me a token if I promised to show him devotion
“See all this land I have cleared and designed by my hand?”
“It all one day shall be yours if decided to stay here this day”
Another way you see how the enemy plays his tricks
“ I have also ordered another surprise gift for you
“See that car over far yonder bringing it to you?”
The car had been two combination's but red in display
But I did not see this until after it drove away
Moving to far ahead so I have to go back
This is how the enemy plays his tricks
He took me inside his home where we decided to wait
Introduced me to his family who were trying to escape
This is how the enemy plays his tricks at the gate
Then there was a knock at the door and I sent to answer
Believing it was the gift from he that I had longed for
I was happy and thrilled to perform this simple chore
Opening to see a female shadow being in close distance
Three knives had hit the door giving no resistance
Head had moved quickly thought then be Divine assistance
This is how the enemy plays his tricks
Copyright © Steven Henderson | Year Posted 2012
In the order of this world
A day is born with sunrise and sunset
Is there a world that has itself
and not one to live in it?
Is there a language that has all words
Except life, care and concern?
Oh! Come I shall show you my next bud
Here is all life, all happiness, all wealth, and all weather
All ‘allness’; except yourself and your life
Tell mom that you have lived another day
That a ray of hope still survives
Show your sister this token of gift of Life I give you
That I am to die and you are to live
For one’s death is other’s life
There isn’t anyone to aid us
So let me die for our mean cause
Oh! To survive in deed.
Break forth into joy
That you live another day
And into tears; to die another day
All Hail! All Praise! All glory!
Die another Day!
Copyright © Rakesh Arava | Year Posted 2014
Sometimes it unleashes its tentacles,
and tries to drag our blissful spirit
with it, into the nothingness that
is darkness. The monster loves to feed
on our fears, anger, and lust.
Sometimes the monster is fed so well,
that it consumes the soul of its host,
or turns its host into an evil vassal.
To close its portal within us, we need
spiritual nourishment each day....
For the Contest: Deep and Dark
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2015
Tepid breeze, lull me to sleep
on this grass softer than hay;
all the aches make my brittle bones weak,
they need rest, not asking my body to wander away...
And if I fall asleep, I would like every star, spotting me.
to keep watch; and should the owls, hiding amid the shadows
of the hickories, emit very scary and strange sounds
and fix their vicious eyes on me, angels will guard me...
No harm will come to me from those treacherous evil spirits,
and by just invoking His Holy Name, it will prevent any attack on me;
and my light can be seen from far, this light which strengthens me:
and while praying alone, I will hear the fluttering of cherubs' wings...
Tepid breeze, lull me to sleep,
and without the lovebirds' song, something must
replace that harmony when a sudden rush of fear:
slowly and uninvitingly seeps into my throbbing chest...
And would I let any noise spoil this peace,
to allow distrust lessen my courage and let hope cease?
I am endowed with the faith of the martyrs that evil men are afraid of hearing;
come Satan, try to deceive me: the Holy Spirit will abide with me 'till my awakening...
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009
Now tell me what is this thing, what does it represent?
Will we be able to comprehend it’s meaning to our heart’s content?
Why does it fill the soul with such a strange wonderment?
Making us feel and cherish our life’s every moment
The way it makes us feel is like we are being nourished
The earth’s love and warmth making us flourish
Thinking of mother earth’s love that we all cherish
Without the gifts of the earth humankind will perish
It is but truly fitting to make a bell out of the image
To wake up those whose thoughts had been sleeping in this age
We may not be as wise I and as intelligent as the bygone royal sage
But we should know that a battle against evil in this time should be waged
Now even the weather system is suddenly changing
Our dear mother earth’s health is slowly failing
We are having worldwide disasters that are alarming
Effects of what is called everywhere as global warming
Do we stay deaf to the earth’s mournful call?
Can’t we hear it calling, can’t we hear it toll?
Will we be a part of mankind’s end, the human race’s downfall
In saving our dear mother’s life shouldn’t we give our all?
There is evil destruction being done to nature and we know it well
Destroying trees, killing animals just to have something to sell
Destroying the environment wantonly, creating our own hell
It’s time to hark, and hear the call of the earth mother bell
Copyright © John Boak | Year Posted 2006
Neither Mother Nature nor Father Time
Has ever railed any accusation
Against God with reason or with its rhyme
For earth’s travails, there’s no gratulation
In deeds of the gods evil to the hilt
Who bring such slanders; yet, they hold the guilt
With the prince of the power of the air
Who comes to kill, deprive and raze; the theif
Of the kings and rulers everywhere,
Orchestrating casualties and grief,
Thrusting in his sickle and clutching the snath
In anger and hatred reaps earth in wrath,
For he was cut down; falling to the ground
He drew the third of the stars of Heaven
With him, and his pomp; his viols did sound
Within his chaos until day seven
When God had made good that void with form and
On the day before gave man its command.
Thus, rage of the serpent was so subtle
To steal the crown to be god of this world,
But his time’s cut short since God’s rebuttal;
So he takes out his vengence, and it’s hurled
At those who have no law and make no pledge,
At overcomers gaurded with a hedge;
The winds, earthquakes and fires pass by with force,
But God only good, is without the blame
When Father tells Mother to take this course;
Since the gods follow evil to the flame,
The earth is in sorrows to be redeemed,
And God is the One most often blasphemed.
Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2006
On the day I saw evil
I rode my bicycle down to the graveyard at the foot of Concord Hills,
the very one that I had passed every morning going to school,
returning home in the afternoon, sometimes taking note
but never sparing a second thought
and I walked among the dead, even talked to some of them
as the sun fell below the horizon and their spirits rose again to the surface.
“Turn back,” said the older ones, “You’ve still got youth on your side.
Live your life until God calls you home”
But I couldn’t hear them. I only saw the pale and silent
ghost of a young lady, my age when she died,
her bud of life trampled before it could ever bloom,
alone at the top of a hill under a willow tree
dressed in a moonlight gown pure as pallid skin.
I sprinted up the hill, screaming “Why?
Why? Tell me why!”
afraid her spirit would quit this plane
as quickly as her life had left the earth.
Her thin lips formed not a word, but her ashen, unblinking eyes
staring straight to the bottom of my soul
told me all I needed to know.
I left the place and never returned,
for there will be time enough for us to get acquainted
when we are all sleeping together.
Copyright © Jesse Jones | Year Posted 2007
To this world I was born….
When Adam and Eve finally obeyed the Evil One
When the Evil One was rejoicing in his dark seat
When God was not happy of His nemesis’ feat
When the Angels could not even sing in unison
When the golden sun, in haste, faded beyond horizon
When the charming moon lacked its own charisma
When northern star couldn’t blink, ‘cos of bad karma
When the white clouds turned nasty to a black man
When my father spent the night with his Tuesday fan
When my mother decided her own time to conceive
When my older brother was not willing to receive
When neighbors wouldn’t stop peeking, like damn rat
When the entire world seemed at peace, but really not
To this world I was born….
Not to emulate my parents Adam and Eve
To resist the Evil One and not to be deceived
To serve and worship God, not only when I hear the bells
To sing the psalms of praises, in unison with the Angels
To witness the golden sun rising from the east
To send greetings to the charming moon, with a kiss
To make a wish upon the great northern star
To dream…. floating on white clouds, not in a car
Not to have a Tuesday fan or a Thursday blonde
To use my time, for I’ve less, wisely till the last round
To accept others mistakes… and to share, cheerfully
To love my neighbor and live with them, peacefully
To shine, against all odds, to the entire world
Yes, to this world I was born…..thru my sister’s hand
Thankful and happy as always, I am, till last days end
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2006
Human beings are strange...
Their abilities of destruction know no range,
You didnt put anything here...
but you misuse and abuse everything you find everywhere.
Such great ability to create and yet we work so hard to decimate.
Because of our lack of care....all living things exist in fear.
What else can Man do to us now? they think...
And in God's eyes we continue to shrink.
No respect for branches or bone,
No understanding of the concept of "Home",
You sleep in a gated community,
After slashing and burning forestry,
Tossing babies into flood drains,
Because on your carpet they left stains,
You take and take with an air of entitlement,
But you have done nothing to deserve it,
What??? Is your conscience dead?
And your heart made of lead?
The earth might someday lift its face,
When these humanoids start behaving like the human race.
Until then I will do my part and hold my own.
And hope that in this fight...I'm not alone.
Copyright © Sarah Ramharrack | Year Posted 2016
Upon the fells I did then spy,
A witch on a broom, up in the sky!
The sky was dark; the moon was bright,
As she cast her wicked spells this night !
I hid me then in an old oak tree,
So that I not her eyes to see!
I hid me then from this evil there,
For I a child a child so fair!
But flew she did then to the ground,
And saw me hidden, and I was found!
A cackle she did then raise to me,
As I backed away in the old oak tree!
Her face so ugly and set to fear,
My fate with her then seemed so clear!
That I be placed in a cooking pot,
For her to eat, now she had got!
A spell she did then cast on me!
A spell to make me not to flee!
My legs as numb as ice in snow,
I could not run, nor could I go!
But all at once as then by chance!
The oak did speak and start to dance!
It wailed its old and sad lament,
And scorned the witch with heard intent!
It tore its roots up from the ground,
And laid me safe, and so then sound,
Its boughs so great and strong to be,
Did swipe the witch away from me!
With cackled cry the witch did lie,
In bruised and saddened state,
The oak had beaten evil then,
And saved me from my fate!
And so she flew to heights anew,
Another soul to find,
The oak did creek its voice to me,
In tears that were so kind,
“No more then fear the witch” it said,
"No spell by she, can you be led!"
She will not harm thee now, no more,
For you the forest does adore"!
Copyright © Keith Drew | Year Posted 2006
There are quite a few essential things our bodies
need when scarcity hits the beautiful land of fruits,
of wheat and cattle; today no rain has fallen on furrows,
drought shows cracks in the soil with uprooted trees!
These lands weren't arid like hot deserts...
birds warbled, flowers bloomed, trees swayed!
Nuclear plants nearby have polluted
rivers and streams, we can't irrigate our farms!
No abundant crops this year, nothing to drink;
shortage of everything including sweet milk,
don't think about tasty home-made bread...
look out! Very tough times are looming ahead!
Hear the elite politicians who swear while folks rant,
" Soon, you will have water and bread! "
Their concern should be focused on the environment
and be guided by wisdom, not by greed!
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016