Amassed bulging clouds
Dashing enmity fusion,
In jellylike kneaded layaway
Mysterious noir over
Prairies quietly resting
Suddenly trapped under
Vicious wind’s X rated
CarolineCecile - 10.15.12
Copyright © Caroline Cécile Delacroix | Year Posted 2012
France, fascinating place of beauty and grace overwhelmed by a master and fascist race
with a dagger in one hand and the other, a mace
all who do not succumb to the iron fist
by life’s hand they shall be missed.
France, now a place of shock and fate
twas this mean to be the countries state?
The allies come in green marching band
ready to strike at the fascist hand
to make with us a noble and honoured stand
Copyright © Constant Nicolet | Year Posted 2016
Athens, quite a place, so full of mythology
Buenos Aires, in Argentina, a place I'd love to see
Canberra, is just antipodean class
Dublin, a pint of Guinness in a glass
Edinburgh, the capital of the Scots
Freetown, a city, now violence is never sought
Georgetown, a place where Jim Jones left a scar
Helsinki, in its mountains, where reindeer herd so far
Islamabad, one of the greenest cities of the east
Jakarta, very close to where the Komodo's live and feast
Kuwait City, the start of Saddam's downfall
La Paz, is the capital, that looks down on them all
Monaco, where the rich and famous live
Nassau, with her golden beaches, where the breakers finally give
Oslo, in the land of skiing and fjords
Prague, with its architectural hoard
Quito, is the second highest in the world
Rome, to the lions, the Christians were hurled
Seoul, in the lands of the 38th parallel
Tripoli, where many an Anzac's fell
Ulaanbaatar, in a country full of steppes
Valletta, amidst the Mediterranean set
Warsaw, the ghetto's in World War II
Xi'an, its all i have to see this through
Yerevan, near the Biblical mountains, of Ararat
Zagreb, escaped being a Balkan War stat
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010
WAR IS THE GREATEST PLAGUE OF MAN
As war is fought it takes charge
And events spin out of control.
The madness of men can alter the soil
Which nourishes the roots of their soul.
Many things will forever change
Far more then wished to be.
As the wrath of war starts to destroy
Those things we fight to keep free.
War is the greatest plague of man,
Religion, state and sanity.
Any scourge is more preferred
Than the one which disables humanity.
When war breaks out, boundaries change
And all who die are a token
Of the rage that must run it's course
Before words of peace are spoken.
War I hate, though not men, flags nor race
But war itself with its ugly face.
When we lose faith in the brave, which die
Then we're not fit to greet those who cry.
What distinguishes war isn't death
But that man is slain by fellow man.
Crushed by cruelty and injustice
With his enemy's murderous hand.
War tends to punish the punishers
So the losers won't suffer alone.
The essence of war is but violence
Till the survivors come marching home.
Sometimes it's hard to defend what's right,
Sometimes we're forced to rise up and fight.
Sometimes we survive, while others must die
Sometimes never knowing the reason why.
The rush of combat is a natural buzz
Caused by fear, leaving nothing as it was.
Hunting one another like wild game
Without a shortage of those to blame.
Sometimes victory comes too slow or quick
Sometimes the cost on both sides is sick.
Sometimes God is asked to intervene
To help stop the savage from being so mean.
War is a hell we visit before death
Fueled by the whisper of the devil's breath.
There must be a reason man destroys man
But why it is so, I can't understand.
By Tom Zart
Copyright © Tom Zart | Year Posted 2008
A poem by John Nesbitt © 22.11.2013
I was eighteen years old and wanting to fight
I found what I looked for, in bars late at night
I took on the big guys, the small ones as well
They were all tough, as far as I could tell
As a jobless young man, proud of my country
I joined up with the army and trained how not to be
They told me I’d fight to keep us all free
So that we’d never have to bend the knee
They trained me in weapons, unarmed combat too
The use of explosives and what they could do
And how to take cover behind rocks and trees
They taught me to find bombs and those I E D’s
So step up to the plate boys, start waving the flag
We’ll be all draped with medals when it’s all in the bag
Think of the glory, this conflict will bring
A few months away, then we can all sing
On my very first mission, I was told to unwind
I took lead position, when searching for mines
The blast threw me up twenty feet in the air
I couldn’t feel my feet for they were no longer there
My right arm was shattered my left fingers gone
I once had two ears but now only one
I thought I was dying, I couldn’t hear a thing
I wasn’t thinking of the medals or being dressed up with bling
Now all I can do is sit here on the floor
and wonder what it all had been for
my comrades call around from time to time
I can see their discomfort when they’re thinking of mine
They wouldn’t trade places, no matter what for
They each have their memories, of that terrible war
My fighting days over, no more blood and guts
So I’ll settle right down in my terrible rut
I stepped up to the plate boys and I waved the flag
But I’m not draped in medals and it’s not in the bag
I thought of the glory the conflict would bring
No legs, no fingers and in no mood to sing
Things soon will be over in Afghanistan
Talks are on-going with the Taliban
We struggled against them for thirteen hard years
But all we produced was billions of tears
Fathers lost sons and Mothers lost child
business got rich, there were deals on the side
Where’s the next country they’ll start a new war
Let’s hope….. it’s…. not ….yours
Copyright © John Nesbitt | Year Posted 2014
The road is rough
Even though I may seem tough
My soul purpose and strength comes from above
He showers me with good grace and love, but is it enough?
Guardian angel on my shoulder telling me to turn right,
But ignorance makes you blind to heavens might, the
gates of hell are now in sight
its time to fight
for the light of the heavens upon us
shines so bright
Copyright © Phumlani zwane | Year Posted 2014
i wittnessed a war just yesterday,
being the reason for much dismay,
i'm sorry for all the death and blood,
and all the soldiers in the mud,
i wish i could stop it just can't be done,
i'll need everybody including a nun,
i'll need jesus to forgive our sins,
that knock us down like bowling pins,
i'll need everybody to read this poem,
in hopes that all the soldiers get back home.
Copyright © jeffery scott | Year Posted 2014
Special Action Force, “By Skills and Virtue, We Triumph”....
Hail to you heroes who fought until their last breath!
No fear to face the awaiting door of death.
As you defend and secure our Motherland especially the youth.
At the hour of battle field you gave your best,
As you tactically crawled only to range the said target.
Mike 1, Bingo! Mission accomplished you eliminate the terrorist.
You save not only the innocent citizenry but the whole state.
But at the time of extraction, treacherous rebels pop-out,
From nowhere they came to destroy you mercilessly.
Quite heartbreaking that reinforcement you shout!
But nobody came as you expected them desperately.
We are not callous how you feel that very tragic moment,
When everyone of you is running out of bullet...
When each of you wanted to hear the voices of your love ones in your lowest...
When you brave troopers stand still even blood spurting out and you just fight!
You are but the true heroes that will never been forgotten,
The warriors of elite force that every Filipino now proven.
Betrayal is such a torment, but SAF Family will tactfully proceed,
Because you fallen 44 heroes deserved JUSTICE in the end.
A special breed of men like you will never just die nor fade away,
But like a TAGALIGTAS logo you will be a world significant.
Indeed, you just leave a good trace in the Philippine history,
Salute to all of you fallen 44 SAF heroes and to all full blooded SAF!
MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU!!!
Copyright © Juliet Nicol | Year Posted 2016
What’s in a name?
That which we call a rose by any other name, would still smell as sweet.
When life is like a roller coaster in a maze.
Competition here and there,
When really, all we need is care.
A preconceived idea of what it all meant,
Sisypheanial love for more wealth,
Whereas, all it does is eat away our health.
Bunch of stereotypes all in my head.
Fearing all and what we don’t know.
I don’t know,
But I just can’t change.
The times we become so numb to what we’re saying.
Ain’t we meant to speak the same language daily?
Nah, it’s an era founded from oppression.
A world rooted in hate, yet we all ignore this,
The same hate that caused wars from religion,
Even gender to skin colour,
Not to talk of ethnicity too.
And then we talk about freedom.
What is really free?
A world where we pay for even our breath,
A free gift of nature to man,
Remember the bill for water?
Its human right for everyone.
Really, who is fooling who?
On Sabbath, I was taught something else,
And when you preach hate, those words ain’t anointed.
And then I sit still and remember eternity.
When else is more comfortable remaining voiceless.
No freedom till we are all equal,
We preach progress with the veil over our eyes
We turn our back on the cause.
Till the day we can be united by love and not by law,
That day, we have changed “US”
Whatever God you believe in,
The fact remains, we come from the same one.
I’m crying no more,
Cause one day, we’ll all be gone.
Copyright © Mubarak Adeola | Year Posted 2014
A perfect storm, a family born
An option that betrays a heart
Scorned and sharp, painfull
Caress the love is not real
A sister depressed , crazy and nuts
Oh what have we become
Animals in a jungle , defend what is yours
You have nothing but anger
Resentment, i have more i have eyes that see a
heart that feels, i have words to deliver
I am real , i belong in any place , i dont cry from disgrace
I am free , i have what is yours, what is ours , we all share a piece
Day by day u go more mad, driven by control , u will never comprehend happiness in the end,
Copyright © Jeanann Foster | Year Posted 2015
MY heart and mind are at war
My heart and my mind are at war,
Body and soul lost between the hate,
Confused and hurt not knowing what for,
They pull, twist and fight to escape,
The battle of pain sweat and tears,
Caught in the midst of heartache,
My soul breaks free and leaves behind its fears,
The pain is too much for my body to take,
I built a wall and smashed it to dust,
For another, but for what,
I lost my faith and lost her touch,
I am soulless standing here stuck,
My mind has won this war,
My heart damaged and broke,
Still not knowing what for,
I pray and i still hope,
That this war will end,
And mind and heart will coincide,
Hoping my soul and body will mend,
For the rest of me has already died
I am done with the pain of passion,
And done with the love of pain,
All i here is my hearts door's crashing,
For this is what makes a man go insane,
I felt her love i loved her touch,
I kissed her lips and she kissed my heart,
Now this feeling, i feel too much,
Now it’s time for my mind and heart to part,
I will see her eyes in the moon lit sky,
Her beauty in a sky of wonder,
I will shed one tear and let the pain die,
As i lay awake in a world of loveless slumber
The illusions of love corrupted my mind,
The confusion of passion clouded my eyes,
The death of my heart came soon this time,
So now i will love in a world of my demise,
You can’t feel this pain that i feel,
I am done trying and this time i am,
When i write i write what’s real,
So now can you see why my soul ran?
Can you stop and wonder,
How i made it so far, with so much pain,
Can you here my heart crack with thunder,
And can you see i live in a world of rain,
I have sought love found it and lost i
I am tired of pain. so tired my heart is exhausted
i am done now if she comes back then i am here,
if not like i said i have shed my one and only tear
Copyright © raymond hamilton | Year Posted 2013
We multiply by a bomb
Then we bear another.
We drag our children into passport documents.
We multiply far from the bedroom
And spit on our wedding day -
never paying attention to the tears.
On the TV screen
Baghdad storms us with bridges
Carnage of the Al Hadidi* fell in the Tigris -
It disappeared, taking refuge in the gulf
And I became a refugee on buses and newspapers.
At the first border check point
And I shake
When I hear the news
And I shake
Is there a lorry big enough for me,
For a passer by,
Who exchanged the capital of Al Rashid with a sea?
We’re farther from the wheels of the Mongols,
The black tea
And the darkness of Baghdad.
But the newsreader
Was still shooting at us with his news
* * * * *
Ask me about the war.
No one asked me about the shrapnel that blasted the window,
The wardrobe where my dreams had heaped
Amongst metallic coins.
* * * * *
Is climbing another graveyard,
And I am like a cigarette between two fingers,
Standing far from her walls
Vomiting my dreams on a pavement in Damascus -
The smell old friends.
Friends who’re working in deception with joy
And the papers urinated on others.
Is homeland a terrace on a tanker
that treads on my dreams everyday
On Al Rashid street?
Or is homeland a dynamite freight
That brings joy to the children?
Jebla / Al Latheqiya 2007
* Al Hadidi: is the bridge of Sarrafiya in Baghdad. It was made of metal and was bombed in 2007.
Copyright © ali habash | Year Posted 2015
Stop the bombs,
They're killing our future
It’s hard to remain calm,
Forests are gone from fiery napalm.
Where are the natives gonna live?
Something’s got to give.
Stop the bombs,
Radiation lingering around.
Must again purify humanity’s crown.
Stop the bombs
To save the homeless man
Reading the twenty-third psalm
One Mushroom Cloud, war could be global.
Nature decayed and fallen out like Chernobyl.
The flash in the distance
Could be His second coming
Or nukes of resistance.
And yet the dove flies overhead
Perhaps its song can hush the war drum.
Dove flying overhead
Maybe it’ll give peace to some.
Dove flying above,
Bombs blasting below.
But let love’s organ blow.
Stop the bombs,
So salvation can abound,
Prayers for mercy sound,
Stop the bombs,
Children are crying on battleground.
May they see a world of peace,
Instead of an earth deceased.
May doves in cages be released.
Copyright © Noah Ploderer | Year Posted 2016
What did you do in the army daddy?
Did you fight in a war?
I’ve only seen a few pictures daddy,
please tell me some more.
I wore a scarlet tunic son,
and a bearskin with plume of white.
I guarded our Queen in London son,
I made sure she slept safe at night.
But did I fight in a war son?
Politicians they’ll tell you no.
But let me tell you the facts son,
the truth, as it was, just so.
I was sent to a beautiful country son,
that’s known as the Emerald Isle.
To the south of the north we young men went,
to a place so choked full of bile.
I walked the streets with a rifle son,
the enemy hiding from view,
behind hedgerows, in vans, those cowards hid,
their mission, our lives to undo.
They wouldn’t come out in the light lad,
they’d only fire from the dark.
Too timid to stand toe to toe son,
they’d fire when we walked in their arc.
But how do you define a war son?
Is it bullets and bombs and death?
Friends dying from enemy ambush son?
If it is, then my answer is yes.
Yes I fought in a war my boy.
Though my government denies it all.
They said we just had some troubles son,
behind a split Irish wall.
But didn’t they give you a medal daddy?
I know this, because I have seen.
All shiny and silver, the Queen’s on it,
with a ribbon of purple and green.
They did and it means the world son,
of a time that I fought alongside real men.
It recalls those honest true friendships son.
the likes that I’ve ne’er found again.
It reminds of those scum in the shadows son,
who now play a part in the light.
Elected to offices of power, yet
they’ve never atoned or done right.
It hurts when I think of those brave boys we lost,
to see such MP’s standing tall.
But for me they’ll never be men my boy,
no values or morals at all.
So yes I fought in a war son,
no matter what governments say.
I’d love them to pick up a rifle my lad,
and be troubled, for just one day.
Copyright © Robin Cain | Year Posted 2015
We are all chess pieces,
in this game we call life,
only trying to move forward,
through all the strife,
jumping on those,
who get in our way,
only pushing forward,
as we play,
be number #1,
we've always been told,
even as our hearts,
grow weary and cold.
Copyright © RobieLynn Collins | Year Posted 2014
if you could only look in my Eyes
should melt you as does sun to ice
so been my love always so *heiss
for Kurdistan I could die twice
* in Geraman = English : Hot
Copyright © Halgurd Aziz Mirza | Year Posted 2015
Bullets whizz by,
Like the rain,
On a stormy day,
As bodies dropped here and there,
Blood soaking into the ground,
And into boots of America’s soldiers.
War Has Come.
Lets go back in time,
To see what happened before the war.
It all started with a smile,
People laughing out loud,
Seeing the sun shine behind the clouds,
Seeing family members be happy.
War Has Come.
Thinking of the past,
America’s troops have hope for the future.
When one dies,
The whole world knows their name.
Families grieve for their husbands,
Daughters, brothers, and wives.
War Has Come.
I cannot pretend to know how you feel,
But know that I’m here for you,
Reach for my heart,
Cause its held out to you,
My shoulders are small,
But you can cry on them too.
But know this,
I’m here for you.
War Has Come.
Copyright © Serina Hetrick | Year Posted 2015
The voice of a refugee
What happened to this world?
So beautiful in the past
The rivers lakes and oceans
And fragrance of the grass
And now the land is barron
It's no more fertile
I hope that the plants grow
Once again for a while
What happened to our society
So generous in the past
Now there is terror
Scaring the mass
Aware of all around me
but one thing I could not stand
It was worse than I could see
Women being beaten up
Children badly tortured
Level of terror rising up
No one's being nurtured
I want to change this
And bring back humility
Return the nature's bliss
And bring back prosperity
Then I realised that
I should be the change I want to see
To bring back that ball and bat
Instead of guns and artillery
I want to live freely
And not be so confined
It's not easy being a refugee
No house to live and place to find
It's my request to the world
To please help me
To be the change I want to see
And again be free
Copyright © avani pandit | Year Posted 2017
This 14 letter word gets destroyed easily
When you start ignoring the problems that you can see vividly
Here's a story that I would like to tell
There's little to say but much to tell
Once there was a family who lived like happily ever after
Whatever happened in the house was much more than a natural disaster
Oldest member of the family was himself so biased
He divided the family into three triads
His better half was far better than him
The noble soul departed for she has to pay for his sin
Her departure unfolded the next page of the book
Known faces now had the new look
One of the triad was heavily threatened
The biased man still stood there without any word unsaid
I always do wonder that what he waited for
He knew , even the sweetest fruit mango has some acid that makes it sour
Excluded triad was left alone amidst the crowd
The two's sinful words added black color to their shroud
They were crushed, broken, trampled on the floor
They still had their mast high , for they had not lost sight of the shore
Every day was made so special with so many surprises
They were always ready to cater to needs of their princesses
Worked day and night to secure our future
You don't know the plight, they always had their hands dipped in cold water
Today it has turned from bad to worse
The two's have decided to make it the worst
After the juvenile has to come senescence
All this happened because garden lacks the gardener's presence
The gardener forcefully holds the wreath
Yet he is aware that flowers have lost their breath
All his efforts lie in vain
Sky is all clear but I wonder why it still rains...
Copyright © zeba erum ansari | Year Posted 2016
Once upon a war
Soldiers thudding firmly
The ground below their feet,
Boot raising the sleeping dusts.
To a course well known
Perhaps this is their last.
Once upon a defeat
Earned with blood
Of martyrs, perhaps gullible
Littering the field once under them.
One, two three shots.
It is rest-in-peace
Once upon a General,
Dogged and courageous,
Strong but firm
Sitting and hugging
His knees with face
Once upon a story
Stealing tears from an eye
That saw it all,
With darkness on the other
And a dying voice
Echoing defeat and regrets.
Copyright © Akinsehinwa Damilola | Year Posted 2016
Flotilla's over the sea
Soldiers are getting ready
to protect the feet on which they trod.
to shield the mother who gave them more than a lot.
their heads may bleed in agony
but they will fight and sacrifice for their country.
Never afraid to be aflame.
Never bow their heads in shame.
They will flourish , they will be cherished.
Never give up and stop
because they are always on the top.
always a step ahead , always the best.
always ready for a kamikaze attack.
his strength will act like a mask to his country
he will sweat and work even in the harsh sultry
because his fidelity and devotion towards his domain isn't fluctuate.
a new future for his country , will he cultivate.
Copyright © Raarya Kuanr | Year Posted 2015
Embrace the world with love and grace
don't consume the lies that ignorance is bliss and survival of the fittest
in a world where the only ones who are fit are the richest,
don't be afraid to acknowledge this
it's too easy to miss when so many people are living ignorant
this goes out to the believers, the new world seekers,
the ones trying to wake up the sheep herds,
lets show them what we heard
that love is the new word,
pull out your t.v chord because they are still speaking of the lord,
my god, aren't you bored!
What have we done in his name besides
kill, destruct and abhor?
Lets surrender and look for a new spiritual mentor
an entity that accepts and includes every being
she is there singing, awaiting, embracing,
those who recognize her creation,
and the fact that the world is facing devastation
with the mass murdering and hunger deprivation
People are so ethno-centric only thinking about their own nation
we need to do a self evaluation
and recognize the sacred geometry of the human race
evidently we have been living with disgrace and a lack of consideration for mother natures divine creation.
Copyright © Natalie Sohn | Year Posted 2015
My baseball cap is my helmet and my Nike's are my boots,
My country is my hood and my colors on my flag are niether red white or blue,
My weapon of choice is my two hands,
sometimes it can be whatever when I am threatened with a great fall from my stand,
I have no general or soldiers but I have family and above all I got heart.
My battlegrounds remain in my own home and sometimes even in the local Wal-Mart.
Every inch of my hood is up for friendly fire,
Violence remains apart of life around here searching for peace is far from desire,
Everyday remains but another day someone will die,
but more importantly is that another mother, brother, sister or father will cry.
But I am a street soldier so I am prepared for anothers or worse yet my own demise,
And as a street soldier I must keep the battle in check, no not with what I see with my two eyes, but what war is really going on inside the mind,
My battles dont come from without but from within......I am a street soldier fighting through time.....
Copyright © Travis Lone Hill | Year Posted 2012
THE LONELINESS OF WAR
I know I’m still here so far, far away,
As I fight for what I believe is right.
I wonder about you and your mom,
Every moment of every day and night.
The loneliness of war can drive you insane,
If you don’t get letters of concern from home.
Left, right, behind and ahead,
Death awaits leaving love ones alone.
We pray to God that we will be saved
To return home or live the here after.
Bloody, dirt-covered men, we see everyday,
As we yearn for those times of laughter.
The far off stare of a fallen comrade,
As you stay by his side till his end.
No mother ever carried her infant child,
More carefully, than we do a friend.
Many have their own personal diaries,
To help keep their faculties together.
Watching hot steel crash into human flesh,
Always makes home seem far away and better.
I’ve become an expert at dodging, weaving and diving,
So try not to worry too much about me.
Just help your mom and stand up from the ground,
And while I’m gone be all you can be.
By Tom Zart
Copyright © Tom Zart | Year Posted 2007
Alphabet amazes me
Being 26 characters long
Deciding the fate of heroes
Eyes reading stories of the past
Forgetting the truth behind words
Gatsby telling lies
I can even create a world
Just for me to live in with
Kool-Aid flavored oceans
Lemon filled trees
My own tiny universe
Nothing but the alphabet weaves it
Only I can explore, unless invited
People in my world are twisted
Quieted they stay
Rebelling against authority
Saying only they’re allowed to fight
Tomorrow will be different
Umbrellas will be sent into the air
Vanilla ice cream flowing in rivers
When I come to end the world
X-rays will be sent
You will see
Zero people left in the world of letters.
Copyright © Christian Guild | Year Posted 2013
W A R
Before I was a foetus
The world was at war
Our forefathers forced to fight
For it was all irresistible
Now I have grown
And I’m dragged to a fight I did not ignite
A war which I do not know if it will end
In the front line we fear for our lives
Gone through hills and mountains
The soles in our boots ran out
Food and water were all we needed
A journey we never prepared for
The smell of gun powder fills the air
Empty gun shells carpet the ground
War vehicles smoking and left to rot
The battle have seized
Waking to the sound of gun shots we tremble in fear
Day and night we do not know the difference
For the enemy does not rest
But my enemy is a man like me
How many deaths must we suffer?
How many forests must we bring down?
How many generations must pay for our forefather’s faults?
How long can our race really endure this suffering?
By: Bokamoso N. Pule
Copyright © Bokamoso Pule | Year Posted 2013
Away across the sea I found a Shamrock,
She was as pretty as the golden sun in Kent.
I knew I should not touch this lovely Shamrock,
But I knew her charm would hunt me if I went.
I reached out and held the little Shamrock,
The wind kept tugging just as if to say
Please don't take this flower out of England.
Leave if you wish but let the Shamrock stay.
The charm of Ireland seemed to glow and prosper,
and everything was pure as pure could be.
Happiness was ours and soon another,
Just as long as we stayed near the Irish Sea.
The Shamrock flourished fine in dear old Ireland,
where sunrise drives the mist in Dingle Bay
and Shamrocks get along beside the channel,
on even by the Mersey so they say.
To take a Shamrock far from home brings trouble,
and lucky as this charm could ever be.
It soon began to wilt and louse its luster,
Soon after we had moved across the sea.
The Shamrock flourished one more time then wilted,
and nothing I could do even seemed right.
I tried air, water, and even sparkling sunshine,
and even kept the door open on it at night.
I swear I'll never move another Shamrock,
As this one's back again now with the breeze,
Maybe some day she'll float on back to England
and settle down around the lovely trees.
Copyright © cheryl lucenti | Year Posted 2014
A holy war
blessed and authorised by the clergies,
condemned and opposed by God.
day and night cities shed blood,
enraged crusaders fight,
for a course wedded to indoctrination.
"give your life or die" they chant,
having more passion for evil,
in the name of the Lord, they destroy,
justifying black for white, sanity for insanity.
killing creatures in mortal frame,
littering peaceful deserts with corpse.
mad crusaders, use your sense!
Copyright © LEGENDARY LEGEND | Year Posted 2016
When men of fame do meet discord,
They find a way to prove their point.
Then it is, they think of the art,
And call to play artists of doom.
The artists too, who know their art,
Would play the strings from their guitars,
Releasing pleasant sounds of doom
That leave men gasping for breaths of air.
Babies wail, toddlers weep;
Their mothers too have felt the sounds
Taking rise from the guitars of war,
And lay by them with gaping eyes.
Young boys leave, all on their heels,
And flee without their closest ones,
Fear oozing out of every pore
That yet has not been blocked by blood.
Sounds of horror fill the misty air:
Bombshells cracking open, ‘leasing doom,
Creaking sounds from shattered houses
Under attack by massive arson,
Rhythmic thuds of bodies to the ground
From mortal tones that vade the air,
The agonised screams of innocence,
Dwarfed only by the dreadful cannonade.
Screams of little girls, barely grown,
Receiving men they’ve never known,
Left alone in shattered raiment
To brood and lick their bleeding wounds.
Tender ones, better off dead,
Trudge along, barely standing,
With sunken cheeks and pointed ribs
Peeping from transparent chests.
They’d give their leaf-thick fleshy parts
Just to lay their hands on flour,
Before the next artistic blast takes them unawares.
What a sharp contrast they are
To all their mates that live with fame.
The day is dead, the show is off,
The artists then return to base
To meet females with smiling kids
That know not what their fathers do.
All is well, their lives are good,
As pay bags do weigh higher.
Victory is here, but for whom?
The hundreds that hushed the thousand?
Fellow men, what have you done?
Composed your master piece i guess!
Copyright © Karl Nkecha Safindah | Year Posted 2013
In the annals of history, records of what they saw
Anarchy, carnage and devastation men at war
World war one world war two, who can forget
Annihilation on battlefields when’er men met
Cords of discontent prevail, the reasons at first unclear
Arguments, umbrage, discontent in the atmosphere
One tribe better than the other conflict never ending
Murder mayhem injustice, now called “ethnic cleansing”
Hooligan misfits, gangsters in the media given status
For breaking news on the flats, this is the latest
The innocent, our children at school, they’re not safe our cry
Gangsters don’t care, money drugs turf, someone will die
A family in one house, living sharing always together
Then one day, brother against brother enemies forever
Dialogue, meetings arranged, a rejection of détente
Gulf widened so much hurt, reconciliation? Just can’t
Man’s final hour, hoping longing for his eternal abode
Been a protracted and tiresome journey bearing that load
Here finally a gratifying sigh, so grateful he’s reached his goal
But there’s one last war, one final battle, the battle for man’s soul.
Copyright © Anthony vanNelson | Year Posted 2017