Best Body Bags Poems

He was my sun, my one and only son,
attired as a cowboy for the day. 
And so I handed him a little gun
of fastened random sticks, for him to shoot and play.

Attired as a cowboy for the day
he searched for foes (with bows and arrows...

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Cold reality and despair lay around the corner.
Humanity's unclean sleep on its hardened edges,
holding crumpled cardboard signs, asking for money.
Those who believe themselves above it all, hurry,
to get a greater distance, as though trapped by 
a predator stalking them for their lives,
and as they pass,...

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News flash
Paris attacks;
Violence strikes

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Innocent deaths
Terror unveils;
Death delivers

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Madness conspires
Human debris;
Bigotry unleashed

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Evil men scheme
Distorted agendas;
Self-destruct roams

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Good people die
Bloodbath escalates;
Terror unleashed

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Signs of our times
Deceptive turbulence;
Mortal casualties

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Moods swayed
Fear catapults;
Distorted means

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Uneasy chimes
Violent crimes;
Explosive times!

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Details of gore
News galore;
Killing fest

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Retribution
Constitution;
Revolution

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Sorrow sums
Deadly outcomes;
Cruelty strikes

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Newsprint copy
Headline news;
Terror firms madness 

~~~~~~~~~


Propaganda hurls
People fodder;
Bombs and bullets

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Create...

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The leaves whisper in the trees,

They crackle like fire underfoot,

They spoil and rot,

The color of their skin turns,

As they die in a brilliance of color,

Their crumpled bodies lay sprawled across the grass,

Waiting to be collected and put in body bags,

Or cremated in burning barrels or...

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She was going to visit her old auntie at 91 years
  The sweet old aunt lived in her own home
  in the town of Ostrow Lobelski in Poland
  On the floor she found her body lifeless and cold
  Her heart did not beat, and...

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Chucko Is Dead

It was on Columbus Day, 1962
When Chucko the Birthday Clown
Sang in tones most glorious and free.
“I’m Chucko, I’m Chucko
I’m Chucko the Birthday Clown!”
I was  comfortably ensconced on the couch.
A feigning 10 year old with a pseudo fever,
Sister Mary Daniel was probably making...

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She wears a metal bracelet, oh, so proudly,
With a POW’s name upon her arm.
She earns her living working in an office,
Typing letters and filing all those forms.

The girls down at work, they tend to gossip,
They talk about her, but not in an unkind way.
But all...

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First person shooter,
on a hate tour of duty,
swinging a bullet sling blade
Buying a death row ticket,
worth fifteen minutes of fame
First person murder shooter;
womb-to-the-cradle-to-the-grave robber,
using your Automatic Revolver
to solve your anti-social mental problems
Sharpen that sling blade
on a coroner grindstone wheel
Gather the scythe-shredded corpses 
from the harvest...

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        The Killing Field
	Bong Son,Viet Nam
	Not All Dead, Returned In Body Bags
	Written: By Tom Wright
	1/21/03
	
	The war in Viet Nam rages no more,
	But what say ye of the animate dead?
	Can we continue their plight to ignore?
	Staring past the crimson...

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They stand on the corner anything you want they got,
Some do the deals some run the money and some call shots,
All of them are ready to pop at the first signs of a problem,
Smith n Weston and Glock know just how to solve them,
These boys...

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The Mourning Morning 100 and 50 Years On

Robert Graves lies in Wilfried Owen’s grave ponders the War
to end all Wars that continue  with nothing else for us in store
and Barry Mc Guire sang summed it all up in 65 in destruction’s
eve thereof a cold...

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Lonely as the contact
Silently the phone rings
Umber is my stomach
As I sit all wound in stings

Far away was the country
That sent me on this call
I know you know I am here
And wanting away from it all

When I told them no
This was the reason
Now I sit...

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Abandon Hope All Ye
 Who Enter Here



Ever the edifice
The bold and self-serving statue
Proud ego stamped
In the courtyards and squares
Of those who have diminished ( ordinary )

Ever the hero who by guile
Steals the heroes burial
With self sacrificial offerings of ballot boxes ( rigged )

Ever the flag...

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Lay me to rest in marbled halls with angels at my head,
not lying here in the mud of Ypres with khaki turning red.
Let me die a noble death, one that's worth fighting for,
not to avenge a nobleman who I've never heard of before.

Let me die...

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Tonight the understaffed was overloaded with impatient calls n' flashing buttons buzzing the central core
I marathoned from room to room in frantic answer 
My vision rang from Rocky Horror, the Ringling Brothers to your flesh and blood side show...in one nightmare slow breath 
It was...

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