Best Conscription Poems
Divinity lives beyond description
Alone, a weary heart cries from its pain
Desire eager for its conscription
Might truth and love turn this way again?
Sweet mysteries, this life, in dreams of thee
Yield fantasy's passion I dare to share
Walk from this muse, I pray to live in me
Conceding this, my love, unto your care
On lifeless shadows, cast your glowing light
Bring a blessed presence to this peace I seek
Rest too this solemn shade, this endless night
With angelic verse, but you could only speak
For seeking dreams to dream from up above
I cast my will and fate to seek your love
Chug-a-lug, Chug-a-lug –
no matter the fly in our
President's mug, the bug in
his thinking...my reflecting on
his ailing brain, and it's obvious
volume shrinking:
Those mindless, confusing rants,
Bidden juices-up; Psaki, drinking
without blinking – regurgitating
at deceptive White House briefings –
propaganda validated by shameless,
would-be reporters, were it not for
their obvious conscription – their
sacrificial genuflecting, having
sold their souls to the Golden Calf
of Soros wealth and tyrannical
influence –
For Progressive compliance – securing
her high place of worship in a Marxist,
Totalitarian Kingdom – Pelosi suggesting
free ice-cream be given to all, in place
of Tried-And-True, Good Old, American
Freedom –
I was one of the cool set,
navy blue duffle coat, scarf around
my neck, seated at a table
in Pepe's Coffee Lounge
discussing Baudelaire
and T.S. Eliot and the demise
of the political elites.
The conscription ballot hung
over our heads helmeted
in a flowering of uncombed hair
in the winter of 1966.
We thought the world was about
to tip, that the old regime
was coughing its last
on Craven A and Camel cigarettes.
Booze was cheap and jobs
chased us down the street.
In a hundred buried silos,
annihilation was just a push
of a button away.
We partied hard beneath
the threat of that mushroom cloud.
We're old now, sit under the cloud
of our own thoughts, replaying
scratchy, worn out tracks
retrieved from the sleeves
of our neural LP's.
What we tore down back then
has been replaced with more
sinister demons that eat away
at the collective soul.
In the end, everything
is just reabsorbed.
Some of us still frequent
coffee shops and discuss
Baudelaire and T.S. Eliot,
still write poetry,
shed a tear
at the melancholic beauty
of a setting sun.
On golden beach beneath blue sky,
With fishing nets beside the pier.
Two friends forever you and i.
As kids together spirits high.
We played our games without a tear,
On golden beach beneath blue sky.
One day so sad,you said goodbye.
We kept in touch most weeks each year,
Two friends forever you and i.
Conscription came,i do know why.
The battle cries rang loud and clear.
On golden beach beneath blue sky
Now soiled with blood in my minds eye.
My duty now confronts my fear.
Two friends forever you and i,
As foes together fight or die.
Survivors both, we did appear,
On golden beach beneath blue sky.
Still friends forever you and i.
I Smell Your Perfume On The Breeze
By Rick Rucker
I smell your perfume on the breeze,
When we’re apart, nothing can ease
My longing for You, most complete,
You are, by far, the one most sweet!
Although we text, and talk by phone,
When I can’t hold you, I feel Alone!
Stronger than the strongest drug,
You calm my Heart, with just your Hug!
I would live my Life under your conscription,
If my doctor would write that prescription!
But he’s afraid that my Heart can’t take it,
Too much of your loving, and I won’t make it!
I told him that it’s fine,
You are as intoxicating as Wine!
He is really worried,
He doesn’t want to be hurried,
When I told him about the smell of your hair,
I lost my balance, nearly fell off the chair,
It’s true that absence makes the Heart grow fonder,
In my case, it causes my mind to wander!
He’s never seen a case like mine,
His diagnosis he must refine.
“Profound Separation Anxiety,”
It sounds like a lot of bull to me!
Why can’t he just say,
That I miss You every second of the day?
I don’t know if my doctor just sucks,
Or wants me to return, another hundred bucks!
I think I’ll simply take the chance,
To be in Love, with You, in Hot Romance!
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 6
Should the State legitimate entity be
To make the use of force It generates valid
True father protects for life his progeny
Change helmsmen and change its personality
The State’s a will o’ the wisp under tight lid
Should the State legitimate entity be
The State is as human as errors can be
Should It excuse seek or new elections bid
True father protects for life his progeny
No citizen conscription thwarts and breathes free
Abjure violence to be made invalid
Should the State legitimate entity be
Since consensus derives from majority
Who made the individual a Candide
True father protects for life his progeny
Overlook crush even one nonentity
What right have men to govern any breed
Should the State legitimate entity be
True father protects for life his progeny
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Obedience is vital
Join the front-line fray
Conscription is essential
Answer the war call
Warships want mêlée
Obedience is vital
Apathy is fatal
Battle breaks in the bay
Conscription is essential
Be the hero and stand tall
Join us today, go without delay
Obedience is vital
Get your SLR and fight
Help secure the water-way
Your conscription is essential
Taliban snipers will see you fall
Their aim is sharp and won't stray
Obedience is vital
Your conscription is essential
First Love
I love you
like
the first time
I tasted peanut butter,
the first time
someone
scratched my back.
I love you
like my first
pull on a Winston
dizzy with awe
that such a thing
was legal.
I love you like
the reflex
of pain
when it
gives up
from a fall,
the unforgiving
conscription
of physics
and biology
like
a padlock's
combination
right turn
to the click
and only choice but
opening
I am a long way down
this road of mine,
and
You may not
recognize me now
but I am
your own
first love
same waif
always
in your eyes.
If we are a breed of beings,
Species of like doings-
In the Milky Way
Why not be that today?
Have I turn a bat
Lost my light of the frat
Or a Braconid
To my kind?
Why the abrupt repellency
To the unfolding literacy
How will I feed my stance
Upon the extinct of other hands?
Why the weighed loathsome
The infinite gruesome
Of my phylum-
Within my kingdom?
What's with the conscription,
The circumscprition-
Of liberty
Stamping it in entirety?
What's with the thirst of a fuehrer,
The ***** conceit of the other-
To weightily parti pris
And indulge in an hostility spree?
Can I not be mindful of the Scythrops,
Make of their trait crops,
That will acculturate
Rather than berate?
Can I not be for the domain,
My essence extended to the terrain,
Express compassion without pain
And adore for no gain?
Instead, I lushed
To hike mass agitative state,
That deludes the mind
Of my kind-
To prey on their own.
Although I'm childless by own hand
That's no crime as I understand
But parenthood I might restrict?
This world's not one that I'd inflict
Upon another soul by choice
So, in this cause, I raise my voice.
I do not judge the ones that do
But wish that more would think it through!
A boy's just toy to those in charge,
A tool for war until discharge
Of duty, all but smart must face,
Although for cripple no disgrace.
Boys taught all feelings to suppress,
That death by war should not depress,
For to the victors go the curls
Of otherwise complicit girls.
A girl too's chattel to the hoards
Of fools who rule conscription boards,
Her privileged status meant to lure
Acceptance of forced life demure!
Her payoff's choice among the rank
Of men untrained to feel or think.
Bereft, accepts the lot of moms
(Who build earth's population bombs.)
Where's freedom of democracy,
When population's blind, can't see?
Is there new hope when women serve,
Experience what men deserve?
To earn the salary of men,
Be president, but without sin?
I do not hold my breath and yet
What if more lived life with no net
Of children born to soften fall
In our old age! Would that forestall
The privilege we seek to gain
Though at the cost of other's pain?
No child is born who asks for life!
And parenthood can foster strife
You did not dream of, or foretell,
(The plans of man don't all end well!):
Loss factored in if you are wise
And plan in fact to improvise!
Just know that rain won't always serve
A ripened field or sun preserve
A field that's dry, bereft of rain,
All life, in fact, foreshadows pain.
Though rain will come, a poem rhyme
God still decides when it is time,
No farmer's labor, love can save,
What lightning burns, we're weather's slave.
Best scorn our pride and value mirth,
Our future's tied to Mother Earth!
Long Tooth
August 1, 2018
Nazriel Rising Small World Ace
She was as pretty as ever on this night
With me smitten to bits with her aura
As we met on our usual pickup location
Nazriel that one who so compliments me
We were on an official business briefing
One of Epic proportions with intricacies
This time the operation was offshores
With me providing intel logistic n liaison
We had to discuss the mission details
The coppers got wind of our operation...
And they being on standby we went on unabated
We were taking out a notorious terror cell
Deep in the suburban’s of Kismayu
The Operation had the green light of our CO
Yet... Something felt off call it an 8th sense...
A key word “conscription” kept clopping up
We were not decided... yet the die was cast
Swiftly we had to act and neutralize the enemy
Thus Operation ...Sly Jackal. was initialized
With Controlled Outcomes a key prerogative
Nazriel bid me goodbye with a kiss...
As I approached the coppers car on standby...
With me leaning on their window and by way of greeting
“What can I get you this time officers...?”
I can get you a couple of stinger missile at the right price
But are you sure you can afford… they eyed me calmly
Not betraying an iota of emotion... the rest transpired in silence.
To be continued… #Acode254_Pmc_LuisMi008
I joined of my own free will,
no conscription did force me,
for I do not apply.
For nearly two decades,
I did obey an inner calling,
one I carried since childhood.
I felt a desire to be a part of
the greatest gang in the world.
Finally, I did achieve my intent,
for half my life,
I lived the dream.
I performed well,
loving every moment,
not understanding why.
I did what many could or would not do.
I did the unimaginable.
Over and over again.
I did all that was asked of me.
I didn't do it for myself,
I did it for Them.
Now my dream rudely ends.
To be awakened abruptly by the fact
I am no longer wanted.
My goal just beyond my fingertips,
whisked away by a penstroke.
Now I try to imagine myself
without the brotherhood.
It feels dreary and cold.
How can such a great place
use our youth in such a way
then discard them along the road of life?
Unwanted? Rejected?
We now trudge through life,
purposeless. Without fight.
We live in the past,
with the visions they created.
There may come a day
When decisions are made
When war in theatres
Will stop being played
The worlds matinees
Will show a different scene
As we all sit and watch
The return from being mean
No more enlisting
No more conscription
We all live our lives
In peaceful prescription
Our lives move on
With natural progression
As we close our eyes
To natural submission
There may come a day
When we have actually begun
To grow as a race
And have flowers for guns
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss-4.php
Judging a book by its cover
Sitting on the bus not knowing where to look,
Lady in the seat in front engrossed in her book
Woman in seat opposite glances then looks away
Upon realising that the book is Fifty Shades of Grey,
“Is your book a good read?” she says “I can't tell by the cover”
The reader mutters “It’s a story about a girl and her wealthy handsome lover”
The woman gives a wry smile and looks down at her coat
She’d read it herself six months ago but wasn't one to gloat,
“I’m reading J.K. Rowling but it's not a Harry Potter,
It's called The Casual Vacancy, Simon Price is such a rotter”,
Silence falls and five minutes is spent,
Observing the appearance of an elderly gent
Immaculately dressed, both suited and booted,
Back-seat youths start to swear and the air is polluted,
The man shakes his head at 'the youth of today’
“Bring back conscription” the driver hears him say,
He reaches in his pocket and takes out a mobile phone
Twenty missed calls from cold-callers,
Why can't they leave him alone?
He looks across at the bookworm
The girl can sense his stare
He hesitantly asks her “what's that book called you've got there?”
She showed the man the cover and then he did declare
"Fifty Shades of Grey's an apt description of my hair"
In My New Year’s Resolution I Vow
I solemnly declare under oats on the libel to walk
N aked with only a bellow with fellow utopians
M istletoe tattoos on my fingers criss-crossing in
Y onder to shepherd ‘blue sheep’ congregations
N oel novel nobility flying pigs dressed in purple
E merge from a smoke screen of incense sandal
W ood scandals on their quest to capture the moon
Y ou’ll have to bear with my golly batik on grizzly
E nchanted magic spills hailed comet drizzle and rain blows
A biding by enlightened dark chocolate scripture
R ock solid marsh mellows on twelve tables of sand
S unk quick in fluffy cuddles once dogma eats pie
R econfigured lolly popped pious conscription I resolve to
E nshrine on altar egos chapels custard apples
S weet sin of saviour and savages prophets and whiz
O n privets hedging bets on riveting cross bows in
L ucid delusions of light hearted senses’ scent
U surping snakes in the garden’s modest seduction in
T ransit transgression staking boundaries sake
I lluminated I will fly from chandeliers promise to
O bey only mocking jesters fooling the fools
N ever more will Nirvana shout at the Buddha
I n hearse verse and chapter closed by conscious
V irtue vilified by voracious villains vying for
O ms rosaries dumb bells from myriad towers
W hen my Weltschmerz and Zeitgeist tickle my treacle
22nd December 2016