The First Texian Macabre Arena Ballad (The extended free-fallen edition)
In another life, is where I first saw your face!
One summer afternoon, lying wounded next to the dead
Unopened gun powder, mass destruction, a land of disgrace
A blood thirst battlefield is where I first saw your face
The sound of war, hidden behind bleeding hands
Crawlers, render their lives giving grace
Jaws of steel, broken, embracing, warm feelings
Summer rain, lungs filled with blood, one last post
Glorious by numbers, screaming blades
Gemstone in touch with the Holy Ghost
Soldiers come in a little close
Crawling, missing limbs,
Twisted nightmare with no ending
Macabre reminder, retracing the aroma of eternal life
Secrets buried like a treasure under walls of sudden death
Revolutionary tears found on a rusted Bowie knife
Lanterns, crackling against the dying wind
Dirt piles of crushed windpipes -- sudden death
Rummage like garbage, the dead Texian
A Falling Alamo Star, taking one last twinkle upon the sky
Forgotten Patriots, I can't remember the names
Written on walls, I can't remember the names
A folktale arena is where I first saw your face
Fairness of stuttered surrender slicing through iron brace
Crawling, with the hunger to live, a clean finish with grace
Exposing, scars needing mother's hands, mothers face
Across infested meadows, the aroma of burning skin
Distant, before Texas and her annexation,
Gruesome, before I lived, Texas and her mortal sin
I pledge, my love, the honor, a legion, I'm a full blown Texian
To Every Forgotten Texian Patriot----- We Win!
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
America the Free ~ America the Brave ~
Freedom with price Capitalism attacked
the many taken hearts broken still
one World try to rebuild
sadness and tears fall hard with fears
guilt by association many accused still
souls evaporated shattered dreams
tears fall on innocence left with anger
The proud fearless knew the inevitable
policeman fireman many lives lost
grieving does not stop 12 years later
New York city once proud & shameless
refusing to let fears in protecting ours
left in shock still question's unanswered
nothing learned nothing gained
ready to attack many left behind
anger greets denial anger meets rage
unacceptable still refusing new love
wanting days to rewind let us go back in time
acceptance allowing the victims leave in peace
the brave taken young leaving us sadly old
haunting dreams lost spirits dwell
no answers to hate never forgetting that day
Evil entered suddenly unforgiving fate
entering our City we stand with the fallen
How to fix how do we Change
This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
shot dead- see fear
they'll hear-hush now
killers are near
Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Contest: Whispers of a Muse
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2014
Jerusalem, in the white of night,
with all the ages steeped upon your shoulders,
and the tombs of fading kings;
history has been unkind to thee,
and the desert sea laden with endless enemies ----
thou shooting star who shawn too bright! ----
how wan the dying rose with Mecca roaring in the wind!
how it whispers a new witchcraft....
A new shackle the zealots bring, on hallowed ground....
where angels fear to tread, lest they spill blood,
like the lot of man, the rockets shall bring peace, they say!
and from the east the Palestian, crushed like grapes in a winepress,
betwixt Hebrew and madmen;
'O Jerusalem, how the Lillie's lilt in thy wan shadow,
how the purge of men shudders to hear your final breath....
no sun shines on thee like a risen Christ;
no banner he bears but love,
no weapon formed but wisdom to silence paranoia;
lay down your swords, and he shall rebuild thee in three days
you old arrid hero,
who needs but the nectar of peace to heal thy ancient bones,
an old name whispers on the wind.....
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having
a bad day.
Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't
help but ask "where is humanity?"
Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.
Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.
How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.
In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.
Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.
Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier - Canada
We all know you now
You have fallen at our feet
You have guarded them all with life and limb
Noble and brave
Only to fall at a cowards last call
You have stirred the souls of the unknown heroes
Their appall shall seek the just dues of our defamers and saboteurs
Young lads who now welcome you in the hereafter
Shall haunt our enemies from near or afar
The drum rolls sound, as the rifles salute
The Unknown Soldier
You are unknown no more
Notes: In memory of Nathan Cirillo and Patrice Vincent both killed in cold blood on the week of Oct 26, 2014 by cowards in the name of Islam. Nathin Cirillo was standing guard at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
Also in memory to the 1000’s of unknown soldiers, young men, who fought so that we may be free.
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014
In a whirlwind two friends started to quarrel over nothing
By the end of a long day it became something.
Fists, kicks, bricks and insults were in the heat,
The two friends were reluctant to accept defeat.
In the storm the fight came from nowhere,
But it was surely heading somewhere.
The two couldn’t see eye to eye for a resolution
And failed to reach for a solution.
Like lightning the dispute came in a flash
Their ship called friend went into a crash
They encountered a hardship in a fume
Saw no need to keep their friendship that was in a flame.
Within the flood the argument flowed to separate
Their much needed means to tolerate.
Their feelings were broken into shattered piece
That they could not assemble into one peace.
Copyright © Mpho Kgaswane | Year Posted 2016
Enemies of the peace
Are not consecrating the life
Tampering with the nature
Crucifying the childhood
On the sidewalks
Burying the chastity
In the brothels
Killing the light
Before coming the dark
Enemies of the peace
Adoring the wars
Kissing the poverty
Dreaming with the famines
Clapping for catastrophes
Enemies of the peace
They want to uproot feelings
To extinguish the flaming longing
In the hearts
And burn the growing yearning
In depths of humans
Enemies of the peace
Robbing the dreams
Jailing the tears
Deforming the colors
Crushing the flowers
Turning off the hope
Enemies of the peace
Not knowing the love
Not appreciating the values
Not believing in the peace .....................
Copyright © Naji Almurisi | Year Posted 2013
The world's grey. Slowly, methodically,
Feathers from colorful birds have been burned.
Sheep in a fog on a snowy mountain.
One man thought uniformity equaled
Superiority, ugly furor.
Their ashes floated down all around us
There's no color left in this sooty world.
Beauty's palette swirled with color beckons.
Diversity screams for a slight foothold.
The heart just whithers in colorless worlds.
APRIL 23, 2016
Word count 62
Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2016
Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star
Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries
A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn
Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015
The writing is on the wall.
The writing is on the wall, an old saying used even until today
for those found lacking or deficient, Divine judgement is on the way
It means that there has been a weighing done on the scales of justice
by an impartial God who knows us, and the good or bad we practice.
The writing is on the wall even today, in our ultra modern society
for those who choose critical and independent thinking, instead of piety
for those who deny there is a God, or who simply worship in their own way
for those whose judgemental hypocrisy is super abundantly on display
The writing is on the wall, for all warmongers filled with nationalistic hate
For all those inciting our youth to violence, malevolent voices that resonate
The writing is on the wall, for those who say good is bad, and that bad is good
and for those who kill the innocent child, it's well deserved and understood.
Writing on the wall comes from the Bible Daniel chapter 5 where the Babylonian King is judged by God's handwritten cryptic message on the wall. The prophet Daniel interprets the writing and the King was killed and replaced that same evening. Consequently the expression the writing on the wall portends judgement and destruction.
John Derek Hamilton
April 19, 2016
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2016
I envy the dust, the way it moves all free and careless,
released from it’s sleeping state the thunderous pounds
of late shelling, again endless.
Muffled shouting, through this trench confounding,
Mustard attack, gas mask aside, fingers in fumbling fight
bitter cold night in a field.
No fireside, food to bite
cigarettes to smoke and mates to joke.
last one gone two days ago up one minute then vanished in a puff of smoke.
this place is beyond reality, it’s beyond insanity
fighting for earth no mother walked nor father built.
If they want to fight then bring it to my hills, not this flat wasteland of mud, blood, bones and chills.
We were thrown into this bloody war,
and we wont have our say, like we've never had before.
Taken to the slaughter history will say,
throwing ourselves forward like tidal-waves.
Waves on waves of sacrificial lunacy again and again.
we've taken little ground and this other trench looks bad, worse than ours
doesn't looked heavily manned looks like we lost more man.
What do we gain now? apart from more time in thought.
those withered layers of rotting feverish flesh, one part is fresh
the other pure dread.
captain is shouting, up on my legs
what’s going on...conscious or dead?
Copyright © Paul K K | Year Posted 2016
We were accustomed to read one thousand
And one night in Baghdad...
Tonight the glorious city-sky is sad,
It sounded bang! Bang
Where is my mummy? Where is my dad?
Are they all alive under the cruise wreckage;
Or are they all dead?
The a ‘Rashid city was weeping,
It rained hatred,
It rained prejudiced,
It rained cactus of different shapes,
They're all aliens,
Some were homemade,
They're all colourful,
In blue, in yellow and in red.
Do you still remember brother?
Because if you don't I still do
What the big Satan, Lucifer what he said!
The cross versus the crescent, take it or leave it,
An entire racism by the media was also fed.
Some hidden in a banker,
Others crawling of hunger,
Others demonstrating with anger,
Pale, yellowish faces they all looked bad.
Where is my nation..My Arabity..My Islam ?
Oh...Mutasamahh! Where are my brothers?
Are they all dead???
They called it precise bombing and it was right indeed,
In the heart of the baby-heart
Like the British game of dart,
The arrow hit its target,
It hit it like mad.
Nobody moves a finger,
In the age of Patriot and Stinger,
They all believe in star-wars, economic prosperity,
They all believe in the Pope, pop-star singer,
They all believe that one-day Allah would side with them to defeat,
The neo-Thamud and Aad,
They're all waiting for the coming future Mahdi,
And for the Armageddon battle to be led.
Copyright © Abder Derradji | Year Posted 2015
Barbarous reason rejoices
and draws strength dispensing death.
Its celebration comes with
cold effigies of blood soaked,
ravaged, masked graves of silence,
leaving any subsequent regret
within the heart of the stonecutter.
The suffocating privacy
of each muddy sepulcher
calls out its loss-but who will listen
through the rumble of the caissons roar?
Fear has no time to mourn.
Only after the flame
leaves its postscript
are the cries of the Widow heard-
then wars agony entreats the soul...
War & Heroism Contest
Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2017
I wrote this poem back in 2004, as the U.S. could not find any weapon of mass destruction in Iraq.
The Oil The Call
The Oil The Thirst
Blood Runs First
Oil For Goal
The Oil The Gush
The Oil The Light
Blood Runs Bright
Oil For Us
The Oily Church Claims
In Juice we Trust
And Oil Is Our New Mantra
Bring Grief To Them
Iraq we'll Crush
And Oil Bless America
Rating to be advised
Coming soon at a gas station near you
Copyright © Alain Boucher | Year Posted 2017
The fireplace kindle in the moonlight.
I am along deciphering the mind’s eye.
God is here with me tonight.
The popping flame was a yellow reddish fire.
The wood burned and the smell was a delight.
My thoughts were ablaze to set the Devil afire.
Of course, I will let Lucifer exist.
He is confrontational to my holiness.
In that God is the omnipotent, Satan is the Devil defeated.
Insofar as the world is perilous, many; as I, must conquer their demons.
Rostrum our crusade as a battle won.
In India, primitive to the philosophy of religion, the reality is profound.
Deities are of one and of all.
There is such a thing as the Christian Satan.
They are enemies to Brahmans, god-giants.
Demons are devils, crackling vigor.
This campaign is of war not of battle.
The action plan is to deploy Christian powers.
Revelation statuses such.
The plague of our time is trinity.
Spheral by one Godhead, organizes the consecrated force.
The mercenaries are on the battlefield of and for the Lord.
With giants and demons how the monkey king detonates causing the wrath of God.
Demons are decapitated and bodies are slanged from here to yonder.
God bellowed, “We must behead the monkey king.
He is the demon of all entities.”
The lashes influence the giants lambastes.
The Monkey King’s demons had formed their attacks.
God’s giants’ impact condemns.
They beheaded the Monkey King.
Penned January 17, 2015!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015
Reality is lost and I fear…
That someday, somewhere so near…
I will fall amongst the people so dear…
I fear…that I’ll just be another one…
Another one lost…
I wonder what the cost of my life is
not to get political…
But I want to know what the cost of my life is
Is it money, is it land?
I do not own any of them, I’m just a simple man
I remember, when I ran across your land…
I remember when I kissed my grandmothers hands…
You ripped me away from her, from my home
You took me away from my heart, you took me away from my soul
I feel helpless, I feel low
It’s hard to play along when I know, I have no role
I have become a slave.
After all the love I gave.
When I look at my country, people I want to save
When I look around me, people I wish to change
It seems like a hard thing to do…
When the world around is bigger than you
To the fools who dare murder in his name
When God gave us life…
He warned us, only he can take our lives…
Oh Syria, my home
Oh Syria, my all
Oh Syria, what did they hurt you for?
I am Proud to be your son…
Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2013
Melt away Racism – Zamreen Zarook
Various ways the populace onset,
Launching always begin with an inset,
Day by day every mind starts to feel upset,
But it is sky rocketing on every sunset.
What is the gaining out of this discrimination?
What is the meaning of this aggravation?
They find this as an anticipation,
But it is considered as the state of aberration
Tongue is given under an oath,
He gave hands and legs not to see you as sloth,
Let your positive mind handle them both,
Definitely it will wrap you with a golden cloth.
Show respect and be perfect,
Happiness and Elysium will be your deflect,
It’s the exact time to give the inject,
Then, there won’t be a single of deflect.
Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013
John F. Kennedy
The great 35th president of US
It wasn't really a success
He tried to stop the missile bases
There were lot of angry faces
When there was about to be a war
Peace was what he asked for
Texas was the place he was shot
Later, the criminal was caught
He didn't survive the pain
His people cried like the rain
Copyright © Heeju Kim | Year Posted 2013
You have my soul, but you have your fate
Whatever your words, I’m willing to take
You have my word; I’ll give you my breath
It’s like a chain that would never be break
You are my love with all my heart,
I’ll fight for you with all my might.
And in the way, you admire your goals,
You hold my hands, but not so close.
As you go to your chosen path,
I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart.
In the dark side, I leave behind
Within my faith, that you’ll arise
Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still
I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near
I accept my fate for what it does,
I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was?
You reach your goals, as you want to have,
Would you remind the man that gave what he had?
As you reach the stars, and be the one
Be a sun that shines its own.
After the rain, the rainbow comes,
Like dark in the moon, when the light flash
A glimpse from you at least a short
For then I knew my pain is worth.
Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013
Africa! Africa! Africa!
Once considered, the bosom of unity
Often regarded as the mother of humanity
A center for the respect of human dignity
A people embedded with the spirit of integrity
Usually seen as the world’s mirror of charity
Characterized by the true meaning of hospitality
We were once referred to as pillars of morality
What a plague on Africa?
Africans are now killing Africans
Brothers are slaying brothers
Patriots are betraying compatriots
Mothers and children now refuge under bridges
The old and the weak abandoned to their fades
Where have we kept our forefathers’ legacies?
They taught us love and oneness
Trained us to stand for uprightness
Showed us how to be compassionate
Nelson Mandela fought for love, peace, unity and justice
He had a dream for African unity and not Afrophobia
Kwame Nkrumah advocated for African freedom
He did not promote African terrorism
Africans, Africans... where are you?
Stand up and drop your arms
Drop all weapons of destruction against Africa
Embrace your fellow Africans with love
Unite and put an end to racism and discrimination
Rise above your selfishness and stop xenophobia
Africans, we are one and indivisible Africa
Together, we can put an end to all xenophobic attacks!
TANGWA LIVINUS ACHA
UNIVERSITY OF YAOUNDE II, SOA
20th April 2015
Copyright © Tangwa Livinus Acha | Year Posted 2015
He returned home from the war, but he did not stay,
For he returns to the war that he must fight every day;
He keeps in silence the torments that rage inside
As they are tethered to the horrors that he must hide.
He returned home from the war, but still in his mind
Are the acts of destruction so vividly defined.
O’, there is no more reality, for hell has taken its toll
From the wages of a war that now burdens his soul!
He abandoned the war for a tranquil home,
But onto the battlefield he returns to roam;
And within his mind the fallen have come to retire
As languishing ghosts from the smoke and the fire.
He now suffers the despair that has come forth to define
The images of war that rage in his mind;
He hears the voices each night from the darkness inside
That resound from the horrors that he must hide.
He returned home from the war, but only to find,
The ghosts of a war that now lurk in his mind.
He does not speak of these things that haunt inside,
So he endures the anguish that he must hide.
He returned home from the war, but he cannot escape,
And he’s become an effigy with a monstrous shape,
O’ he hates the regrets; he hates what lingers inside
Where the torments of war shall forever reside!
Copyright © Robert Liam McCallum | Year Posted 2015
False winter—deceitful—fuels the unrest.
Paris preyed upon; men’s anger coalesced;
guns frame the debate.
Pride and despair fan the unholy flame.
The dispossessed grab weapons and take aim,
do words or actions desecrate?
Twelve dead in Paris—and a free press denied,
mourn for the loss, when faith and guns collide.
To men with no life, there’s only death.
Fathers and mothers, daughters and sons cry;
the workings of men leave no time for goodbye.
Shout, “Vive la liberté” with each breath.
False warmth stirs a hornet’s nest, of dispossessed
on Boulevard Richard le Noir, hate crests.
Guns frame the debate.
Words are warriors, oh there’s might in the pen
what do men die for—ideas council men.
Loss, want, and hate dictate.
With bombs, knives, and guns Europe-wide
strike concern where complacence was decried:
no homes, no jobs, unrest,
societal problems in oversupply.
Your eyes, open your eyes, the dead cry.
There must be more than death.
First Published in here/there magazine UK 2015
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015
After so many countries, now in Syria,
Increasing is the western bacteria,
The bacteria of hypocrisy and lies,
Which is in a dangerous disguise,
Under the banner of help and peace,
They seems like a white fleece,
They do things very secretly,
Pursuing interests very actively,
What they want is just conflicts?
In the entire world's districts,
They like when people kill each other,
Its how indirectly they do smother,
Try to understand that what is a war?
Because it opens up the profits door,
For the imperialists and dictators,
And of course their very own creators,
When imperialists start a war,
They make sure that its paid for,
So they pose to help by selling arms,
As if they are selling them charms,
In return of arms they make money,
So much that its not even funny,
On the other hand people also die,
In the region where they don't comply,
They want the entire world to obey,
Their orders and want them to say okay!
As long as one stays this way,
A nice attitude they will display,
But for instance if one says "NO" to them,
At first they get angry and hem,
And then come bans and sanctions,
Penalties all kinds of aggressions,
And still if they are not successful,
They wage a war to make stressful,
So that's what they did in Syria,
It was their anger and hysteria,
Because they couldn't do anything,
And through a war they wanted to sting,
But they forgot that who they are facing,
And what kind of a enemy they are racing?
They already are, their army, replacing,
And because of defeats they are reducing,
The Takfiri terrorists they brought in,
Are ruthless and not even human,
They are ripping chests of people,
And eating their hearts like animal,
So west and its cruel tactics,
Has nothing to do with the ethics,
So once and for all everyone,
Let's finish savagery which has begun.
All rights are reserved. Syed Imon Rizvi
Copyright © Syed Imon Rizvi | Year Posted 2013
Shock and awe
You can take away my freedom
You can take away my rights
But you will never take away
What I believe is right
You can hunt me and chase me
You can try with all your might
But you will never take away
What I believe is right
For 100 years or more
You have been knocking at my door
The tyrants and the despots
The army and the law
But there will come a day
When we'll be free
And we will live in harmony
And the world will live as one
Bush and Blair they have no cares
Now there both millionaires
They talked about shock and awe
But all we got was a horrible war
With 100.000 dead
And many many more
We will never know the final toll
But we know who ran off with the oil
The tyrants and the despots
Are they the ones to blame
Or is it Bush and Blair
Who should hang their heads in shame>
Copyright © Michael Ward | Year Posted 2014
NATURE’S HUGH ANCIENT LANDSCAPE
OF GREAT GREEN FOREST GROWTHS,
MEANDERING MULTI PURPLE MOUNTAINS
AND COOL CLEAR WATERS
UNDER A BABY BLUE CADILLAC SKY
WITH KIDNEY SHAPED WHITE AND PINK
COTTON CLOUD FORMATIONS
AND HEAVENLY BODIES SPOTTED AFAR
WE CONTINUE TO TRY TO IMPROVE YOU
CUTTING AND PASTING
ON YOUR SURFACES
LIKE AN OUT OF CONTROL PHOTOSHOP COLLAGE
BUILDINGS, INDUSTRY AND MAN-MADE IMPROVEMENTS
CURVING BLACK ASPHALT ROADS
WITH WHITE STRIPES DOWN THEIR CENTERS
BILL BOARDS AND WARNING SIGNS
UNTIL YOU ARE ALL GONE
AND WE NEED TO MAKE MORE WAR
OR DO MORE SHOPPING ON THE INTERNET
FOR SOMETHING MORE TO DO
UNTIL WE ARE ALL GONE
AND NATURE’S HUGH ANCIENT LANDSCAPE
OF GREAT GREEN FOREST GROWTHS,
MEANDERING MULTI PURPLE MOUNTAINS
AND COOL CLEAR WATERS RETURN AGAIN
UNTIL THE NEXT BIG BANG
Copyright © RUDOLPH RINALDI | Year Posted 2014
Help me son, help me daughter, help this old beggar,
Give a coin, give some water, help this blind creature.
Help this aged, come to aid, help this downcast blind,
Draw your hands, off you pockets, mix your hands, combined.
Lacking sleep, bloody hunger! I'm pale and dying,
Ten rupees! quite some offer, at least start trying.
Lovely girls, my harmless kids, can't you see their plights,
They dream about shining prince, don't they have their rights.
Start giving at least something, shall we have some trust,
A coin, two or ten like him, something kind and just.
Hear me all, hear this cripple, hear this handicap,
Please be kind and please do mind, ah! coin on his lap.
I'm poor and deep in trouble, help this old cripple,
My legs were great, not again, I'm week and brittle.
Holding stick, without pleasure, I don't have a home,
Finding space, seeking treasure, kids are left to roam.
Share a coin or one or two, quench my thirsty lips,
Old ladies, beautiful girls, let me have some chips,
So let me beg, earn my right, give me something great,
Ten or more or what you have, something for my gait.
Who is there, is he begging, Is he robbing me?
Go and beg anywhere out, you can't beg near me.
Can't you see that I cant see, don't you be absurd,
I came first, so he should leave, he should speak no word.
This is train, so I can beg, I shall take what's mine,
You can't brawl and make me stop, now you stop your whine.
They are souls, some nice people, they won't make me leave,
You should stop, zip your lips or they will make you leave.
Blind and cripple, are they ill, what more should we see.
You are right they ain't so good, let them stop and flee.
Look, its great, to see them fight, beggars fighting each.
Hey! stop, what are you doing? don't you bark and preach,
You are ill and more than them, you should be more kind,
What they do, shall not matter, you should sit behind.
Copyright © Anees Rahman | Year Posted 2014
The Warrior On Top The Mountain
Swings His Sword Like A Legend
Though I'm Skilled In Combat
Let These Words Teach You A Lesson...
Some Avoid War Because
They Could Lose In The End
I Avoid War Because
What I Will Destroy Just To Win....
It Is Better To Let The Hate Move On
And Let The Love Stand Still
Copyright © Cortez Maurell Lewis | Year Posted 2013
A legion of soldiers right by my side,
Ready for battle, we shall nor run nor hide;
Courage and honor our vows we keep,
Searching for triumph and not knowing defeat,
As the enemy approaches, we have no fear;
My sword yearns for battle, as the time's growing near,
I turn toward my men on this cold winter night,
Look upon these soldiers ready to fight,
" Tonight Men! You may sacrifice your life,
You may not go home to your children and wife,
We stand up for glory, no matter the cost,
We shall not go home with this battle lost,
We fight for our people and hold our flag high,
Showing true courage on this very night,
Our enemy shall buckle underneath our strength,
We will show them no mercy for we are not weak,
Gather your armor and follow me now,
Time that we make our country proud."
I feel the cold steel, of my, blade in my hand;
I shall conquer the enemy who tries to steal my land,
My horse rides swiftly, valiant, and true;
The time is now for what I have to do,
The sound of the cries, agony, and pain;
It's filling my ears and testing my brain,
Can not feel guilt of taking one's life,
The pain sheers my side, as I, feel the knife;
I feel my head spinning, as I, look around;
Bodies of men and their blood on the ground,
The realization begins sinking in,
What is the outcome? Who really wins?
Every man here is giving their life,
So who's really wrong or who's even right?
I fall to the ground and the darkness sets in,
Remembering my life, family, and friends;
The life of a soldier is not an easy one, you see?
We sacrifice ourselves for others to be free,
As my life leaves my body and my limbs grow cold,
I remember a story my grandfather told,
" Everyone says there is glory in dying,
The fact of the matter, maybe, we're lying;
I've seen many battles that tortured my soul,
Memories to haunt me, as I, grow old;
It's good to have courage and strength in your heart,
But that's why there's wars tearing us apart.
I don't regret my service or leading my men,
I just always wondered, when does it end?"
His words had no meaning, until, this very night;
My breathes grow shallow and there's clouds in my sight,
I may die a hero and go out in glory,
In the end, I only, remain a story;
We are all equal people with lives to live,
Why can't we find peace and put war to an end?
Copyright © Roxie Perry | 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