Best Conscripts Poems
The invasion began on the twenty fourth of February
When in from Belarus came, the filth of humanity
The world soon got to know of their cruel depravities
Each town they invaded, they were guilty of atrocities.
Putin had hoped to announce victory, on the ninth of may
But strong Ukrainian resistance is standing in his way
Helped by the civilised world supplying arms to fight
Now Russia can no longer claim to have military might.
The west imposed heavy sanctions but the war is still raging
Especially in the Donbas region where defenders are engaging
Putin doesn't care for loss of life, to him it doesn't bother
While sending in his conscripts to be used as cannon fodder.
But don't be fooled for one minute and offer them any sympathy
For many of his soldiers have committed, vile acts of atrocity
Murder, rape and lootings have been committed commonplace
Reports of young children being bashed, with rifle butt's in the face.
Buildings shelled and under the rubble many people still alive
The Russian scum wouldn't allow anyone to help them survive
Mobile crematoria used to destroy evidence, of their killing spree
But evidence is being documented for the whole world to see.
Rebuilding all the infrastructure, will take a very long time
And the Russian aggressors must be made to pay, every last dime
Good will always triumph over evil and one day Ukraine will free
And hopefully in time be able to move on, from that awful tragedy.
To all the would be aggressors out there and especially Putin
The civilised world will support freedom and you'll never win
There will be no forgiveness or a route to save face
Humanity owes you nothing, you're an absolute disgrace.
Written on 6th May 2022
Diamond battleground
Collector's card currency
Hero factory
Little league conscripts
Vocal parental advice
Therapist's profits
Score report passion
Batting statistics frenzy
Relive by numbers
Glossary nightmare
Commentator's lexicon
Head scratching jargon
World series warfare
Stadium armageddon
Sponsorship looting
Counterfeit rounders?
Diplomatic incident!
Sanctions on cricket!
Entry to "the national pastime" contest
Written 12th February 2017
Notes: "Rounders" is a game played in both the UK and Ireland with similar rules to baseball https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rounders
Here comes the rain as sun shines bright,
Streak rainbow plain in radiant light.
Feel thought now hurl a profound think,
Yet sense somehow a causal link.
Indulge your heart as mind plays games,
Begin and start what ego names.
Sure heart knows soul beyond mere thought,
A certain whole conscripts all plots.
Joy wears a face that succeeds cheer,
Wit follows grace when love comes near.
Seek then delight beyond mere fill,
Focus your sight on pure goodwill.
Peace centres here when love firms proof,
Abide my dear in that sure truth.
Go deeper still and forfeit thought,
Surrender will to find your lot.
Strange is the change that drives each soul,
Poise floods clear range in that sure whole.
All else must fade in time and space,
Let splendour trade that awesome grace.
Purpose plays pun in feisty jest,
Enjoy life's run in journey quest.
Death is the gate where love awaits,
Embrace your fate and don't be late!
Leon Enrique
26 July 2015
Singapore
Rifles rattle,
Armies battle
On the plain,
Getting glory,
Grief, or gory
Colored pain.
Conscripts giving
Up their living
For a patriotic bed
That is bag-shaped,
Shrouded, flag-draped:
Blue, white, red.
WOULD YOU HAVE SHOT ME
MY FRIEND, IF NOT FOR THAT WAR
WOULD WE ENEMIES THEN HAVE BEEN
I BLAME YOU NOT AT ALL MY FRIEND
FOR IT COULD HAVE BEEN ME
THAT SHOT YOU INSTEAD
WAR IS CRUEL, MY FRIEND
THE BLAME IS NOT ON YOU
IT'S OUR COUNTRIES CAUSES
THAT CONSCRIPTS YOU AND ME
TO FIGHT SOMETIMES NO MATTER HOW UNJUST
IN WARS THAT MAKE YOU AND ME, ENEMIES
WHEN IN ANOTHER PLACE AND TIME
WE COULD HAVE BEEN FRIENDS, MY FOE
IT'S MY COUNTRY THAT SHOT ME DOWN
NOT YOU, MY FRIEND, THE ENEMY
THAT MY COUNTRY MADE OF YOU AND ME
REMEMBER, YOU ARE BLAMELESS, MY FRIEND, THE ENEMY.
A quivering shadow shrouding a clouded pane
Shared pain scribbled in the doleful rain
Hollow words that broker heartache and disdain
A sorrowful whistle emanating from a distant train
Poorly trained recruits struggling above the furor to remain
Stridently striving nation's honor to uphold; but only vitriol,
criticism obtain
Sacrificial fodder sheared of its free-flowing mane
Pared of hope; left only with the incalculable strain
Stationed in a humid hovel that every ounce of stamina doth drain
Surrounded by enemies who fealty and allegiance feign
Fighting to defend a people tethered to a weak, tenuous chain
Serving under commanders who constantly seek fallow grounds to
regain
Sacrificial lambs whose blood the unforgiving terrain doth stain
Seeking a wily, amorphous foe in a borderless territory to contain
Reconnoitering through boundless jungles that equally beauty and
poison contain
Searching for 'guerillas in the mist', but only marauders and
malcontents detain
Scouring villages for contraband; arbitrary jury distributing pain
Showered with toxic chemicals that clear our paths but our lungs
restrain
Conditioned to violence as barbaric, torture devices many
comrades have slain
Transporting the liberal vices of burgeoning social revolution to a
frugaler domain
Satiating the lonely days; secluded nights with: booze, barbiturates
and cocaine
Surviving a hostile conflict where sanity seemed to constantly ebb
then wane
Trite conscripts whose epitaph will read, 'Every battle objective
gained, but the national will could not retain'.
this soldier took those rounds so they could save
their fellow conscripts from their early grave
how ghastly tannic, tastes such horrid truth
though warm as blood, or tart as sweet vermouth
thus now they gather ‘round to ask for grace
dark masks of horror frozen on each face
such needless waste to ransom golden curls
this warrior, brave, now lost … was but a girl.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, March 6, 2023
We are all like-men
one leg at a time
yet some stand out
trouser-ed or not
some become possessed
a holy mission accepted
subduing the personal ego
as did Christ, Son of God
First Risen
these are blessed children
of the Sacred Divine
Some saviors born.
Some developed by
trial and error experience~
like an artist's film
or a botanist's rare
orchid --
Some, not of the soil
nor lab, tempered like steel
of unearthly fire
Trump, a force for good
that evil will be compelled to
continually oppose
We encircle his lead
fellow conscripts of Heaven's
saintly unbridled army
pray for his continued divine
protection.... "In God We Trust"
as well as on our coins
engraved upon the soul of
Freedom Loving Men and women
the world over....
A Ring a Ring of Uncertainty
A pocket full of Poppies
And love letter good luck charm's
A Spitfire thrust full throttle
War chariot for a single brave owner
History classes will muse about
With only Bravado and comradeship to battle
The skies fall down
Like propeller blades and expunged pilot's
Not kamikaze rather conscripts
Children of the cause
The Spitfire roars
To parental knocks on door's
Saying sorry for your loss
Came not bearing a heroes body fit for a coffin
But a letter and medal to follow
Hollower
Than bullet hole's
On a Spitfire broken frame
Without a Name
Just another German Claim
Heaven bound for Flanders grave
The trampled fight paths of Spitfire exhausted flame ignitions
Burn like fireworks displays on the 5th November
Into countless mothers tears when dinner tables were left uncleared
Knowing her youngest is never returning home
His flight delayed permanently circling on clear day's
So his mother prays
On sober day's
Behind glazed eyes
Spent , her memory's will never relent
Ever more tired
With only the ire of a rusty old coal fire
As consolation ear
Dissolving into fear
If only God could see her
He would give his son to be her
If god be all
Then god be few
There is nothing life can do for her
War has been untrue to her
There is no cure for her
FRET NOT
When you are rising,
they relish pulling you down.
When you are plummeting,
they are reluctant to pull you up.
This is not new,
nothing is under the sun.
They invest in hearsay,
they inject conjecture.
These champions of malice,
these conscripts of animus.
Fret not about this lot,
fear not their rot.
Contort your own fate,
distort all their hate.
Hurl it out the gate,
at a swift rate.
With,
vehemence.
like that of a nemesis,
to an arch-nemesis.
Eyes open ears ajar,
moves discreet isn`t it?
LiterarySpaceAfrica Ian Munywe©
Heroes in Ukraine
No heat, no power
endure aerial bombardment
More brutal by the day
Hundreds of Russian conscripts
thrown into battle every day
Unprepared, they die like flies
As if Vladimir Putin cares
While informed Americans stuff down turkey
watching sacred football games
Taking stock of their carbon emissions
So Donald Trump they can blame
The Volunteer
by Bob Moore (c) 2019
A volunteer is worth, a thousand conscripts so they say
I would never volunteer, if I had my own way
but when the sergeant says, two volunteers, that’s you and you.
you have to grin and bear it, and do what you are told to do
It may just be KP, or police the parade ground
but it could be latrine duty, digging trenches in the ground
then you have to go, and fill the old ones in
hold your nose, and gag a bit, the air in here is thin
Sometimes you go out on patrol, to see what’s to be seen
I’d rather be warm in my bunk, than walking jungles green
then someone yells out “contact” and you just hit the ground
and swear and keep your head down,
as you chamber another round
Then contacts lost, if it ever was, more than a nervous call
now back to base, and thankful, as into the bunk we fall
tomorrow it will all start again, and if good luck goes my way
I will not be volunteered, and I will last another day.
Wear witty way
Dream deeper day
Seek sublime say
Charm cheeky chance
Drill dummy dance
Treasure true trance
Nurture nice notch
Weeping words watch
Prance pleasant porch
Chance conscripts clay
Pickled plots play
Sad sorrow sways
Primal play plots
Loiter late lots
Sick slaying slots
Sense simple sights
Lasting love lights
Free floating flight
Leon Enriquez
08 September 2016
Singapore
My spirit is locked in a conversation with my soul and my heart is crying out for more, you have stretched me to the limit just to see if I am fit, but I kept going to expose my stamina and my internal strengths . You have defamed my character with an age-old propaganda calling me crazy and mad and this accusation really makes me feel sad.
You have gone above and beyond to steal the joy out of my hand and when you are done you gathered with your friends and cronies to have a celebrative party, mocking my human dignity; and gossiping about me. You kneel in front of the cross every Sunday with silent words dripping from your lips.
I can sense the hypocrisy around you, and witness the devil blowing its breath all over you and when you speak the earth groans at the bitter words coming from your trembling lips.
You have been doing this for years, defying the rules, crossing border, hacking my phone and spreading my information all over the town. Your objectives are not clear and you are sending negative energy everywhere. I want to tell you the truth, take your baggage and get off my name or you are going to go insane.
They will come after you and shake you with all that they have got, and when they are done with you, they will leave you walking without shoe.
The conscripts are on a special assignment and plan to march you up to heaven; they will knead you out on the ground and fire shots in the air and leave you lying there cold and bare .
You work for you and your group but I work for the entire troop in the universe it is positioned at the four corners of the sea where the earth joins it to me and he.
I have been waiting here for a while watching you insulting my indigenous pride, filling the air with smoke, canceling hundreds of flights and sending out notices about unruly passengers.
You are the unruly brat and you have been stealing all that we have got, and when it’s time for us to have some fun your are running around with threats and gun oh what hypocrisy
My Adrenalin is boiling and my spirit is swelling and the sun is burning at a hundred and ten degree, there is a part of me that you have not seen but I will show you when you safely cross the sea, when the temperature cools and my dust is settled destiny will take you on an unforgettable ride.
This is constructed in the CUBE16 style I created several years ago.
As conscripts March
and war is nigh,
fear grips men’s hearts.
Stern looks belie.
Their ears are filled
with rifle shot.
The one for them
they hear it not.
As battles rage,
lives beckon risk.
Anticipate
dread’s obelisk.
Fierce battles end,
then quiet falls.
The lofty brave
feel dreadful palls.
Does war resolve
the burning hate,
or does it let
the rage abate?
War never is
an ending place.
It soon approves
a new hot space.
As calm returns,
its time is short.
Those wanting war
will soon extort.
Can peace exist
where boots now trod?
Peace has one source.
The grace of God.