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 © Cole Banner
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
Too young to die
They take a boy, too young to shave
Who has never lived his life
While his mates are chasing girls
They fill his life with strife
They send him off to a brand new war
Over some damned fools Ideal
I don’t understand their wars
And I guess I never will
The folk who like to run the show
Or most of them at least
Have never even been to war
They’ve never felt the beast
As he rips right into one’ intestines
That hollow hole of fear!
Each leader should be sent to war
Then the picture might grow clear
Then when they send young boys to war
They’ll see the whole damned show
The weight of endless terror
And then maybe they’ll know
What it’s like as a fine young man
To be sent out there to die
He might then know, how a mother feels
When she’s lost her little guy.
1 August 2013 @ 1443hrs.
Copyright © Peter Duggan
44 DROPS OF BLOOD
by Coui Kim MinSu JA
Silence has consumed my lonesome soul
Beneath the sheets of my darkest fall
I broke my armor, my helmet and my sword
I lost the battle after I gave my all.
These hostile MOROns speak the language of war
Treachery is their dialect, how nasty they are!
They house the villains, they feed the crooks
Yet they always call their god, every time they shoot.
I lost my sight though not am I blind,
Revenge is the light, the only light i find
My wrath and my curse are constantly roaring
Within my heart I can no longer contain.
With these 44 drops of blood I solemnly swear
Doom are these wicked, for gone are my fears
Now, I raise this peaceful banner and flip it up RED
Cause I thirst and hunger for all of their HEADS.
Copyright © Jasper Abcede
Tell me America ,
Will you win this war ?
Will you bring cruelty to gallows ?
I see you daily here;
Left and right like pendulum,
Ups and downs like leaf-cutters,
Building army, building allies,
Pacing faster on trick’s ladder;
Still this monster is gargantuan,
Like phoenix looks its soul,
Like elixir its spirit.
Storms cruelty gathers daily
The brutish it breeds like hornets,
Their fangs like shoemakers' hammers;
Making hell of every metre
That I am affraid America;
From which hedge will you strike,
From which side will you come ;
To bring brutality to its knee?
The day mother bought a hen
And let it loose for airing a bit
No sooner it met the brutish
Than the cruel scraped its head
With their vampire’s aching-pecks.
On their feast of bear your fangs;
The green were shredded like young okra,
And the gray like potato chips;
Every foot wore sock of red ;
That an aged man sermonised :
Monster's world , young as the day is ,
Lions have made morsel of antelopes.
Who shall tame the lions ?
Who shall safe the necks of the antelopes ?
Tell me America, will you win this war ?
Will you bring cruelty to gallows ?
Will you tame the lions and cage the peckers ?
The lions are roaring everywhere and there,
The noise is becoming louder and deafening
Worldly peace in monsters' cage , tell me,
And please be eloquent; will you win this war
Or do we start decorating crowns for terrors ?
Copyright © KAYOD5 Kayode
Fire and smoke, and ashes of black.
The tale only told,
On a white marble plaque.
Destruction, distraughtion, never foretold.
Til this day, by a knight,
So brave, and so bold.
A camp, set a light, and burnt to the ground,
By an evil, so dark,
Set homeward bound.
They met on a Friday, and agreed to a fight.
Both ready, and armed,
It would start at midnight.
Stood in a circle, that was drawn on the floor.
Facing each other,
Audience cheering for gore.
A bang of the gong, and the battle began.
The knight gave one hit,
And the evil man ran.
Archers took aim, and fired their load.
The knight turned away,
And into the sunset, he rode.
Now I ask you, dear princess, can I be your prince?
Don’t you see, I’m the knight,
Have been ever since.
Copyright © Adam Forth
Beyond the dark t’ward light of day
There is a land far, far away
This place is known as Shandamaire
A little castle’s nestled there
Around this castle dark and tall
There is a garden still and small
The flowers there no longer bloom
Within their little garden room
But it was not so long ago
That you could see the flowers grow
The blossoms there were bold and bright
While welcoming the morning light
T’was then a princess young and fair
Strolled the grounds of Shandamaire
All of the birds and creatures small
Would answer to her lilting call
The princess loved her favorite toys
A dancing doll that brought her joys
With a button where one eye had been
And a sturdy soldier made of tin
The kingdom loved the charming lass
With hair of gold and skin like glass
And everything was perfect there
In the lovely land of Shandamaire
Then came an evil prince one day
To steal the princess’s land away
At first he tried to win her heart
But with her land she would not part
He decided then to make her leave
So as the kingdom knelt to grieve
He’d take it for his very own
And seat himself upon its throne
He chased the girl with golden hair
Through hallways in the castle there
Out to the garden she did flee
And begged the prince to let her be
The soldier and the dancing doll
Heard their tiny princess call
And hurried to the garden path
To stop the evil prince’s wrath
Next to the garden’s old stone wall
The princess saw the dancing doll
But the doll and soldier were too late
To save her from her awful fate
The evil prince gave her a shove
And rocks fell down from up above
The sturdy soldier made of tin
Kept the wall from falling in
But while he held the wall in place
A smile came to the prince’s face
He took the girl with golden hair
And left the land of Shandamaire
And now within the garden small
A rusting soldier holds a wall
Through winter snow and summer rains
Sturdy and stout he still remains
And high atop that garden wall
Are the remnants of a dancing doll
Its face you see is never dry
As tears fall from its button eye
Eternally they stand and wait
For their princess by the garden gate
And if you look they still are there
In the far off land of Shandamaire
Copyright © Stephen Washam
On The Beach
Imagine walking on a beach after you finish school. Enjoying time alone. Happy that your studies are going well. In your own little world. Then they come for you. Snatch you off the beach. Take you to their boat and kidnap you. You've never been so scared. Not knowing what's happening or why. Little do you know, you won't see Japan again. Enemy soldiers came for someone. They found you. They need Japanese citizens to teach spies the language. But you don't want to do this. You go crazy. Not in anger but mentally. Your 'life' there doesn't work out. Your fate is bad. 'Suicide' by drug overdose. Your body thrown into a pit with others. A terrible fate. North Korea did this to you. And to many more who are missing.
Copyright © nick armbrister jimmy boom semtex
every story has someone to hate
all must rise and take the bait
in the end they always fall
for they can’t outsmart them all
their pride is always their demise
yet in the end they can surmise
that somewhere in the vast
there was a problem they can’t get past
so they come up with evil plans
make inventions with their hands
to destroy the world they detest
which holds the problems to which they contest
they do not want to be shoved
for in the end all they want is to be loved
Copyright © Ashley Petersen