Best Damascus Poems
VIDEO: LovejoyB: BALLOON
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fduyWFQ-JXg
"DAMASCUS"
There is no collaboration in War
Poison winds and bullets
The fallout from a silent bomb that arrives out of nowhere
Lives left dead and damaged in the rubble
Line's drawn
Zip code
Zip locked
A Child's Tears
A Mother's Face
A blood running river silent scream
An absent State of Grace
A pointed loaded gun
Homeless nowhere to run
The enemy could be close
those you know
havoc reeking destruction
A pointed loaded gun
Another's War
Damascus
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Feb)
1.
https://www.dailystar.co.uk/news/latest-news/605359/syria-nuclear-world-war-3-bible-prophecy-damascus-armageddon-donald-trump-vladimir-putin
2.
https://www.hrw.org/news/2018/01/11/syria-children-under-attack-damascus-enclave
3.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2018/02/20/children-among-dead-71-killed-assad-regime-bombardment-eastern/
4.
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Isaiah+17
5.
https://www.youtube.com./watch?v=fduyWFQ-JXg
Once upon a time, R.E.D walked down a road of rhymes,
Then took a turn towards the "POET," who was well within his prime.
This POET had been blessed with a natural ability.
His verse had been dispersed with speed and agility.
But, down this road, R.E.D still decided to run,
In a big hurry to find something new under the sun.
His mother should have told him to never cross that street,
Because the end of this road would lead to his defeat.
Suddenly, he saw a great flash of RED light, that forced him to stop,
And recognize the fact that he could never be on top.
This flash of light came like a flame, with the great voice of reason,
Saying DOC would be the champ of this game, each and ev'ry season.
Through his eyes, into his soul, this flash of light did glisten,
As he received a NEW TESTAMENT, that made him want to listen.
R.E.D saw that, for him, the grim future of this battle looked rather bleak,
So, instantly converted, he did not seek another peek.
At that moment, R.E.D had an immediate change of heart,
So, he abandoned his campaign, and sought a brand new start.
His fundamental outlook on battles had just been changed.
He started working "for" DOC, and then he improved his range.
After DOC had blessed his tongue, and then sent him off to preach,
He only battled poets that were clearly within his reach.
About the greatest poet alive, he would often boast,
As R.E.D began to spread DOC's word from "post" to "post."
And he took DOC' directions with no need for debate,
Proceeding to play his part in waking up "THE 'great'."
DOC knew that "THE 'great'" would no longer be "THE VOYER,"
After R.E.D used his words to destroy the "DESTROYER."
He even used the words of DOC to conjure up a fear,
And convinced a little wizard to magically appear.
Therefore, R.E.D had finally passed the ultimate test,
By humbling himself, and submitting to the best.
Starry skies over Damascus
Like a star chart for the
bomber pilots eating
Milky Ways and lives
Chocolate in the desert
for desert in consumption
The poem could stop here
its pretty clear not pretty
Petty lives perambulating
hiding hobbling around
on what was their feet
foundations souls and
is their ruin's wreckage now
The planes feature logos
“Just do it”
“Whiter than white”
“Put the tiger in the tank”
“Eat confectionary be happy”
What an advertising space
for the daily news rounded
up like the refugees
refusing to be refuse
“Powered by democracy”
“Fuelled by share holdings”
“Rocket launches for a better world”
in the weeping nights and days
lactating for another holiday
of some on sunny beaches
oozing oil wells wealth
and inequality
Milk where it needs not be
in luxury not infant powder
hungry breasts run dry by hunger
sapped empty in the face
of some lives counting
more than others where
camouflage is but
a distant varnish
in the pursuit of power
Soon their will be billboards
“Baghdad was not built
in a moment” “Invest in
Kabul” “Concrete for Allepo”
“Live the dream”
“Life liberty and the
pursuit of happy-mess”
“Constructing globality”
Munching away in my
cushioned arm chair
built from greedy land mines
I collude
“You can have your milky ways”
if the bomber pilots did not
eat them all
Whose wives implant their chests
with silicone from
the valley of evil
that forgot
Instead the artificial brain
the heart transplant
Mindful disposition
of humanity
Looking
instead at the stars
spangled banners
of Damascus
Milky ways
I join my fellow travellers
On the road to Damascus
The guilty the ignorant the egotists
With our ashen faces
And threadbare skin
Confined and self absorbed
We walked mostly in silence
But some dare to speak of destiny
of been no other way
We can see Damascus in the distance
Beyond the mist perched upon the hills
But the road is long and many fall by it's side
And nobody weeps for the defeated
Their bodies picked cleaned
by eternal hungry vultures
Who turn honest men
Into money making machines
Oh they had me for while
Got me chasing television dreams
Driven demented by the fallacy
Of a corrupt and plastic reality
Yet Damascus always waited
So I take perilous steps
Towards that beacon of light
Hoping like my fellow travellers
To be anointed in it's enlightenment
Washed in its salvation
and forgiven by it's redemption
So I tie the laces of my tattered shoes
and swallow the last of my pride
And follow the road
That can have no end.
Damascus Is On Fire!
Damascus is on fire!
The wooden men and the plastic men.
They roam the avenues in search of corpses.
Young deathless corpses with frozen grins.
They break into the mansions and into the buildings of hypocrisy.
They strangle the truth and eat hate for breakfast.
I scream from the hill top.
I cup my hands to amplify the sounds.
I bend over and tell the wooden men, the plastic men,
To sniff there as Mercutio sniffed the Nurse.
To smell there as Hamlet smelled something rotten..
Evidently, it has all been said already.
Apparently it has all been told many times before.
There is absolutely nothing new under the sun.
Nothing. Nada.
So what business do I have
Sitting here in Death’s paradise
In bloody Damascus as it burns
Writing this and screaming this and bellowing this missive of nonsense?
And who am I to think that anything I have to say
Or plead, or wail
Has any profound significance at all?
Where is this going?
I really don’t know.
Should I?
Should anyone?
Damascus is on fire!
The wooden men and the plastic men
Have their swords lifted and prepared.
They roam the ancient avenues in search of corpses
They strangle the truth.
Waiter! Waiter! I’ll have my martini now;
Make it dry and toxic.
ON THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS
By Roy Merritt
(A Humorous take on the life of the Apostle Paul)
I was on the road to Damascus to give them Christians hell
I was on the road to Damascus and never had I failed
I was on the road to Damascus when suddenly struck blind
I was on my way to Damascus I had Jesus on my mind
And then there before me was Jesus Christ Himself
Whom they say was with God and in Heaven there He dwelt
And he asked why I persecuted Him didn’t the Romans do enough
Why I made life hard for Christians on them so tough
I told Him I was a Jew Yahweh was my Lord
And following you Jesus Christ I surely can’t afford
I’ll tell you why you should Saul that too I’ll tell
If you don’t follow me in death awaits you hell
Well that was enough for me and on I went to the city
Still blind and full of fear and much was the pity
So I went to see Ananias who sprinkled water o’er my head
And then I was with the Christians and did was Jesus said
I was full of grief and shame for what I’d done to Stephen
And Jesus said to me relax now I say we’re even
So He sent me on to Antioch with Barnabas by my side
And on to Asia Minor and there we did reside
I wrote a letter to the Galatians recounted why I came
And all that I had done and cast away my shame
And I blinded Elymas the Magician whose words sore disputed
What we said to others our teachings he refuted
ROAD TO DAMASCUS
Granite faith exfoliated by superguns and sanctions whirls,
on this earth succumbing into dry spell of peace,
War-crats and confidantes skinning freedom from its people
Kofi drinking coffee with revolutionaries and revolutionaries in
Aleppo cafe on his way to Damascus
Daughters eating NGOs, GMOs, condoms and twitter
Bullet scorching the feet of super diplomats and mediators
Wiki leaks castrating the reputation of this state
Opportunists and oppositionists eating asparagus and liver in candle light dinners
Selfish pseudo prophets calculating political matrixes, salmonella laced sugar tongued
Democrats cooking autocratic beetroot and propaganda pizza for media rituals and puppets initiation.
____________________________________________________________
I'll cross the dunes where the sand has grown
And lift my eyes to the horizon last
For me to follow to my lovers home
Travel the desert this hell so vast
I need to find Damascus, where my love lives
The sky has been watched, the sands read
To give her my love, the nights we'll relive
With joyous comfort in her luscious bed
I'll not make Damascus if caught in a storm
Die alone in this desert, thoughts of love still warm
Frederic Parker
contest.In the Desert
9/15/14
It was on the road to Damascus
When suddenly I was struck
It wasn’t a damascene moment
Just a great big pick up truck
A dirge for the ancient and modern
city.
Damascus a lamentations of the
blood spilling;
Of the blood of the dying crying
'avenge me' like Abel of old.
Of orphaned children lost in the
war of adults.
The wounds of Damascus are so
grievous that has defied
all treatments.
Swallowing its young generation
etched in hatred and
vengeance;
Of ideologies that consume the
very soul of Syrians
This is a lamentation for the wasted
generation, of a gap
deleted forever.
The city of Paul's crusades and
conversion.
Of foundations of a hundred
generations.
Damascus ancient and modern
on the brink.
On The Road To Damascus Part Two
By Roy Merritt
(A humorous take on the life of the Apostle Paul)
That was my first journey on my second Peter became a friend
And with him I debated the Gentiles and foreskin
He said they had to cut it because the Jews they surely do
And I asked him why they should if none of them a Jew
Jesus is for one and all and that means everyone
He sits on God’s right hand side and He God’s only son
And so we left in disagreement we left there in time
Me disappointed in Peter who with Gentiles wouldn’t dine
I went where I may then and those who me heard
I converted all for my Jesus as I spread the word
I was even shipwrecked on Malta but little did I care
As long as I had an audience and with them the word to share
I even went to Spain and Britain along my wandering way
That’s why I write in English that’s all I’ve got to say
A plot then sent me to Caesarea two years I was in the pen
Two years in this prison for they wish to do me in
And I eventually petitioned Rome for Roman that I be
I appealed to mighty Caesar and petitioned to be free
And that’s where I wound up that’s where I did go
And lost my head to Caesar because he hated Christians so
And yet my letters to the Christians to those I’d set free
Did the most of any and all to spread Christianity
Pope Clement called me the Herald the Herald of the west
And of all in the Gospel I spread the Gospel best
And so now I room with Jesus, Jesus Christ he’s my mate
Because of all that I did spreading the Christian faith
And to this day I’m celebrated the most significant of overall
I was once Saul of Tarsus but now they call me Paul
Truth has become socially malleable,
personally customized and saleable.
Ruled Politically incorrect,
by the self appointed elect.
We’ve hit that slippery slope running,
led by diabolical cunning.
We're on that horse and galloping like Saul,
persecuting salvation...right St Paul?
The sin is the same as it used to be,
just a different apple tree.
Work out your salvation in fear and trembling,
for Truth and lies are conveniently blending.
Sunset in Jerusalem...
The vendors scramble to rid themselves of fruits, vegetables, and cute souvenirs.
A young boy bellows at the top of his lungs,
"Hurry up! Going fast!"
A man carries a newborn and a diaper bag over his shoulders.
A mass exodus of shoppe keepers leaving the gate weary at the end of the day.
"It's quitting time!" I can just hear them saying.
Gnats swarming.
Trash scattered from a long day of peddling.
Pigeons and sparrows nibbling on table scraps while crows call off in the distance.
Sunset in Jerusalem.
Written outside of the Damascus Gate, Old Jerusalem
4-28-15
Gwendolen Rix
On my long way to that
strange land
I cross sword with much
a hand
And smiles I meet of
many forms
But still I pull myself through
storms.
For here in me I put my trust
That is, beside the God I
must
For I will neither wreck my
heart
Nor tear my troubled soul
apart
With lies or suicidal attempt
Abuse, assault, or self
contempt.
To me, therefore, do I
belong
Alone, therefore, would I be
strong
For who would tell the tale
but me?
So how indeed would foes
defeat
A hard to crack a nut as me?
And if they know not how to
beat
And sack a castle high as me
Won't they retreat and let
me be
Or bow to me in fetish glee?
War is rot and peace is not
Till the horn sounds I'll
weave my plot
To crippled fate I cast my lot
Atop two stones I keep my
pot.
DAMASCUS
Your opinion palpitates
on and off.
Riding on the horse of
pride,
You stumble across
your soul.
Ignorant about the
chaplet of pride,
Creampuff due to horse
pleasure
You ditto to continue.
Angels are in
accordance
Whilst you ride on the
horse of pride
On the road to
Damascus.
A great voice descends
on you
In the chambers of your
memory.
The tempest washes
your opinion away.
Even though you are
power drunk
And you are pride drunk,
Kiss goodbye to your
opinion,
Set out of your
opinion's hair
And dive into a
humble opinion
As you have more than
one
String on your bow.
19 Lines
3 Stanzas
Date Written: 25-Jan-2011
Author; KESSIE JUSTICE
AMENYO