Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.145.184.109
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
When Humanity Cries


Message in my angry pen
Peeps yearning for release
To scrawl on white walls
Venom from a ‘ball’ sting,

  Bane in an irate pen
  From a daring ken.

I yearn to hug The Hague
With stumps for hands
Which were both chopped
By some idiotic bandit-

  He’s on the Court file
  I’ve reason to smile!

I’ll murmur woes of war
Into the cockles of its ear
Cut lips the Cross to kiss
Iron taste of cold metal;

  Gone past pain of whips
  My lip chopped as chips!

I see with my big Heart
Both eyes all gone blind
The sight is that of greed
Where no Civility thrives-

  I presume they are stars
  O Gosh! They are scars!

Weaklings trampled dead
Line each side of the road
Suppurating in cold dreams
Power of force flying fast,

  Right is not so strong
  But the strong or wrong.

Modest message peeping
From shadows called Ink
Yearn to release Graphics 
Of Humanity crying;

  Where Ghandi stood once
  His ideals have no chance.

Formation is taking shape
In battle with poetic force
Frenzy poised to pounce
And denounce decadence.

  Mother’s loin was torched
  As Hiroshima scorched!  

My Anger was aroused;
Like tinned fish so packed
And carted away from Home
To work another’s Farm;

  Until I learned to read
  I loathed this dread!

We cry, cry beloved groin
When another one dies
“He’s taken, taken by AIDS!”
I mourn, I travail, I wish......

  Holding a dead child
  I cry hoarse and wild!

I whimper like an orphan
Sucking Pen for a thumb
To draw the bitter Ink
And spit to the paedophiles.

  Bereaving children fun
  Evading his lewd run.

I smoke and sniff this paper
Scrawled this painful writ
That, perchance, putrid lungs
The message will massage.

  I yearn for an injection
  And not this rejection!

Where then is my mother?
Ah! A Kitchen Girl.......
Father? A Garden Boy
Boy and Girl at their age...?

  Now I sleep not a wink
  A wretch on the brink....

Ink tears well in my eyes.
I feel I’ve gone shorter
Rolling down the cheek pad
To leave a letter of pain.

  I kneel, my sins to bloat
  Till knees bald as a goat!



JM

29th Oct’ 2013
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required