Best Escalation Poems
The west went in guns blazing to help their fellow man
In Syria against the Islamic State and in Iraq and Afghanistan
They brought an end to a campaign of terror and a killing spree
And made the world a better place and safe for everybody.
So why in God's name is the civilised world, just standing by?
While thousands of innocent men, women and children die
What is it about Russia, that murdering terrorist state?
Are we just going to look away, leaving them to their fate?
Ukraine is running out of fresh water, they have no electricity
While the Russians carry on firing missiles, indiscriminately
And committing atrocities that would make a grown man cry
A harsh winter is fast approaching and many people will die.
Why are NATO and the civilised west worried about escalation?
While Russia carries on pulverising that peace loving nation
Enough is enough, NATO needs to put boots on the ground
And rain down hellfire on that Russian scum, round after round.
The west is sending arms and humanitarian aid to Ukraine
But dragged their feet when they requested a fighter plane
Vladimar Putin growls like a dog and the west backs away
We shouldn't listen to his rantings, he must be made to pay.
Ukraine got rid of all nuclear weapons with the fall of the iron curtain
I bet they wished that they hadn't given them up of that I am certain
Because the yellow backed Russian scum would never have invaded
And their threat to world peace would never have escalated.
Written 24th November 2022
My son has lost his eyesight
And lacks mobility.
His doctors are confounded,
But I seek no pity.
There is much love in caring
Full time for those in need;
Hard work and sacrifices,
A focus to succeed.
My career was put on hold;
His life is in my hands.
There’s nothing more important;
I bow to life’s demands.
Divesting self-attention
Enduring broken sleep.
Exhaustion brings disruption,
Emotions that run deep.
Few friends now come to visit.
One thing I know for sure --
Without a diagnosis,
They will not find a cure.
The fear of escalation
Disrupted life and hope.
The overwhelming feelings
Destroy the will to cope.
I know my son would thank me,
If only he could speak.
I worry what will happen,
I’m old; his future’s bleak.
* June 25, 2018.
"Escalating the Muse"
Written on the body
passive complacence
stretches sharp ink
etched pain in the soul
then real beauty
from the
Book of Truth,
a page moored
in transparent skin
;
Black,
tattooed ceremonially
on the tongue
speaks diaphonous
Freedom
Written on the body
stretches stories ripped
and tall, they are torn,
a small revolution
amongst the crowds of
alphabet coding
in a tight sealed tin
akin to a
Can of Campbell’s Soup
Escalates the
Muse
Written in the body
a work of art, beautiful,
pure and stubborn centred,
dirt muddied yet,
clean stripped,
balanced for the
Laymen betwixt
Papillon
folded Wings,
en stasis,
looks through the Chrysalis
towards the you in gilded story
the Higher requires analyses,
there She thinks,
writes the Muse
tattooed on the tongue
Words
projecting Muse to
Escalation
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
llb/gvlm
for my daughter,
Georgia
;
"LUX VITAE"
"Brûle-moi" / Jean-Louis Murat
https://youtu.be/M6l_sQQ8lS0
"Distractions" / Zero 7
https://youtu.be/6ng6IKp8uao
"What New York Couples Fight About" / Morcheeba
https://youtu.be/RUE0J2UvThM
"Golden Years" / Bowie
https://youtu.be/JUuRGRcY9O0
Battement de coeur dans
;
Battement de coeur vers l'extérieur
Morning has broken as it has done for many years
Day to day we continue without the fear of fears
Then out of the blue their comes thoughts from long ago
Prophecies of a past, that could halt us humans flow
Tablets scribed in gold, have been uncovered in Peru
For in them they tell of the future, surrounding me and you
We await with fervour in the media, the radio and the t.v.
As I try to get my head around it, and what it means to me
The day that they speak of, it's a little over a year
Do we just laugh if off, or do the sensible in us fear
As I drive through my city, towards this impending day
The street corners start to fill, does panic have it's say
Speakers start to recite, of this doom that welcomes we
I see suicides in escalation, jumpers in front off me
Families leave their homes, for they no not where to go
Panic buying surrounds me, anarchy appears to flow
We now reach December 2012, as we gain on the scribed day
Can it be all that was written, have the ancient had their say
My eyes catch the clock, midnight is awaiting it's strike
It'll be the twenty first of December, are the Mayan scribes right
The minutes pass the hour, everything appears to be normal
Maybe the writes are fables, to them simply formal
To pacify myself, will it be the radio or the t.v.
Sometimes one has to ask oneself, to simply look and see
Visions on the screen appear, many screens my eyes do view
Reports from many countries are brought to me and you
They show events of nature, more fierce than naturally so
Rainfall in arid areas, deserts in metres off snow
The Polar ice caps start cracking, exploding ice in crying break
Mudslides now carry cities, everything caught in their wake
Bangladesh now no longer exists, the Maldives have disappeared
The Mariana Trench now starts to rise, her ridges in rampant rear
A bulletin catches my ears, Yellowstone has started to erupt
Is this what the scribes have warned of, our planet being so abrupt
A rumbling I start to feel, where I stand I feel I move
I'm in tumble across my floor, in fear of their impending prove
My apartment on the only hill, allows through my window to view
A giant fissure slices through my city, for into it, buildings spew
The free ways now broken and torn, many cars in tumbledown
From here I hear the screaming voices, I'm deafened by their drown
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-20.php
P Propelled into the war after tora, tora, tora.
E Escalation arrives in Oahu, paradise explodes.
A Amorous and hula skirts set aflame at once.
R Reveal of a takeover plan, pot shots extreme.
L Lucid nightmare lit with oil and screams.
H Hear it! Smell the scent that still reminds us
A About the cost of freedom; the belch of deep
R Roustabouts who have settled into their sleep.
B Bust out! Ring the knell until it comes alive.
O Odor lingers! We must bring it to the surface.
R Round up the freedom fighters of the deep!
The pale yellow sky, reminds me of a smile that never fades
From a greeting etched in memory, immune to words like cutting blades
The tall emerald trees are drawn toward the layers of light
A pillowed curtain for the baby blue skis, waiting to darken in the night
I will hold onto the smile in a world full of escalation
I will carry hope it will bring peace in dreams, without fabrication
The light guides me through changes, only the seasons know
A place I will probably be sitting later, writing about falling snow
These reminders are the gifts, this creation never fails to give me
They guide me through each stage of unsettling uncertainty
As I am ready to close my eyes, yellow is turning to peach colored sky
I let go of all the unknown and release myself from.asking why
Because what I see in front of me is a miraculous formation of peace
To be still in this moment, where hope will never cease
Heidi Sands
9/19/24
(C)opyright
Elderly man’s fishing net hangs in his shed
The fish he caught in his backyard stream multiply
Net use was banned; he couldn’t afford a pole
Joy and sustenance gone, a tear falls from his eye
House Bill 875 would ban backyard farms
Forcing vegetable growers to invest cash
In overpriced produce on supermarket shelves
Uncle Sam flexes his muscle, makes his whip lash
The right to freely worship is endangered
As prayer is prohibited in public schools
Government intrusion invades all our lives
Public pleas are not heard by those who make rules
Freedom to choose our doctors is now threatened
Socialized medicine diminishes choice
Speech censorship? Just ask the Smothers Brothers
Who canceled their own show with a stifled voice
As crime escalates, look to the constitution
The NRA spends billions to protect Americans' rights
To bear arms against oppressors while thieves laugh
And sue owners of homes invaded in the night
Can this be what our forefathers had in mind
When they sought to escape a king’s tyranny?
Our rights are being limited more each day
In a nation spawned to promote liberty
Natural disasters prelude Judgment Day
Eerie escalation – tsunamis, earthquakes
But perhaps when the dust finally settles
Those who survive will learn from our past mistakes
Governments will form only to preserve peace
Not to strip away rights ancestors pursued
Don’t blink! Precious freedoms are now endangered
By those who feel they’re elected to intrude
Note: Following a rash of local breakins, thieves murdered two people who happened to be
at home when they entered. This event produced a lot of anxiety for me and James was
kind enough to help divert my attention by joining in this write. Many thanks to James, Tim
and Dane Ann for their support during this difficult time. -- Carolyn
A hungry gray feline sees a mouse; quickly does she pounce
Instincts come into play as jungle creatures eye their prey
Natural selection rules the vast animal kingdom
By striking fast they earn the right to live another day
We read in the papers and we watch on the news
As I look out my window, and ponder man's thoughts
What do we see, through our eyes as we view
Our ability to kill and leave one's life nought
Complicated survival games play out each strenuous day
From the frigid Arctic tundra to torrid dark jungles
Beasts on the prowl are trekking nature's intended path
Another victim falls as distant thunder rumbles
Opportunists linger as the perpetrators dare
Man stalking down dark alleys and dimly-lit streets
Confronted, accosted in criminal stare
Where the innocents in danger, generally meet
Other members of the animal kingdom have no choice
They slay only to keep themselves and their families alive
But it's man who plays the most dangerous of games
Killing for thrill, politics or greed; how can man survive?
It's the evil of man who takes what he wants
With the blade of a knife, with his terror taunts
His escalation from flint to gun
This most wonderful world in masculine haunt
If man continues to develop harsh weapons
The skies may explode in carnivorous fashion
Consuming not just one animal species, but all
Leaving angels to mourn the death of God's creations
An x-ray view of what was before while looking for the after now
Like a resurrection and afterlife on some biblical prophecy
Be aware on the conscious for its under attack by malware
soon to fully develop into a spyware
Your mental is like your software
Operating system needs an upgrade
This virus just gave it a reboot
With simple task manager for putting on a mask
Betterment of the self is a daily update
Because the past is what you have lived and it all crashed
But we need to understand that our attention on affection is being hacked
Being scanned everyday as we usher into the era of the cyborg
Some lifestyles we need to abort
Social interaction is digitalized
friends are stranger on social media
Here was the birth of social distancing
industrialization sign in globalization to confinement
Can’t we see the danger!?, people have become invisible
Let put aside propaganda its not in this piece’s agenda
In an atmosphere filled with uncertainty
dwells fear of change with a wave of intolerance
A dominant experience at the moment is sense of grief
notion of sadness, despair, helplessness, powerlessness and anger
Fragment of blame, echo chambers of many
Negative escalation of human degradation
Issue is on face mask as the color of the skin
Being policed by leaders with empty promises
It feels like the pandemic took a 360 degrees turn
to make it a worldwide web
In some ways it has come full circle
back to localization, national budget and personal introspect
Everyone is loading their data
refresh the mind on the page
what does history show
Before the hand shakes, people kissed to greet
Here we tap our feet
Gathering set the tone of joy
Togetherness was a remedy now in a memory
We just have to stick as family
unfamiliar at a point of acceptance becomes familiar
A woman is following me.
I am guessing she is lonely.
Having a stalker gives me glee.
It makes me feel quite naughty.
This is becoming bothersome.
She phoned up and called me a scum.
She disguised her voice with a hum.
But I know where the call came from.
Next door she is now a boarder.
She has a mental disorder.
She is ignoring the order.
I got it to try to ward her.
I wake up to find my hands tied.
She is standing by my bedside.
Telling me she is now my bride,
and we must toast with cyanide.
I stay late to steal the night air to owl cry, looking on the virgin ideas to rainfalls. August augmented my hope to millennium laughter. Bell rings to escort the escapees from scandals to bloom as blouses, under virgin legs.
I chain ideas together to fix fact from fiction to whistle blow. I dissolved salt to salute the King on his reign of majesty in the Island to the Icelander. Robb not the knot tied in the heart of bride to the bridge.
Diamonds to dinosaurs from brew of coffee to cough mixture to euphoria hope. Ballad gossips to the failure of adjectives to describe my desire to discrepancy velvet. Penultimate to penguin loves with pedophilia and conversion from deceit to delicacy love.
A family gen that cemented us together is thicker than water fractured by crack of gun sinister love. You refuse to references the refugees on the red light alert.
Label the talents to termites’ hearsay, somber to saga poem that powers my element of thinking to the twinkle of bell to strategic maneuvers
Yelling to yellow leaf yonder aspirant astonished to dangling wire to the wild lives. Courthouse cut courtesy captions in the newspapers very special hot tea in the morning. Dictum the dog master sneak virgin Island and excursion bodyguards to curtail the escalation of situation under gunpoint.
from Juniper’s Daughter:
War Is Obsolete – Futility and Hope
By Nick Armbrister
Caught Up In a Fairy Tale
My dreams haunt me as does the music, drunk I dance to the mesmerizing tales told by the songs of 25 years ago, as real now as back then. The heady rush of the moment takes me and lifts me up ever so high until my primeval fear snatches my euphoria away like committing an armed robbery on a child for his sweets.
Cold war nightmare returns with a dozen vengeances as I dare to lift the veil of the nightmare, I only wanted to peek inside! Nena and Frankie got it right in their two songs 99 Red Balloons and Two Tribes. We really did live in a nightmare but with such erotic desires - do anything you want do coz after they drop the bomb and nuke us all in World War3 no one will be left to care or give a damn.
I hear my mother ask me what you want for Xmas son. Mother I want this... to go back to Xmas in 1986 and to see a nuclear war, for the Warsaw pact/Soviet forces to come across the Fulda gap and the north German plain. For NATO to stop their conventional forces with tactical nukes after air power fails, the heady rush of nuclear escalation killing us all, overwhelming our planet irradiating our world darkening our skies with nuclear mushroom clouds.
On and on and on I writhe in ecstatic enjoyment seeing the work of the devil thru Christian believing Western men bringing on the end of their, our, world stopping the heathen red menace with all they’ve got. You see it was a matter pride not common sense that made them react they were trained well.
Now after watching my Xmas gift, I ask to go home. I hear no reply. Slowly it dawns on me, I can’t go home and there is no home. Just an irradiated world stuck in Xmas 1986, totally destroyed. What did I wish for? Am I dreaming a nightmare that I’m stuck in, did the veil fall after I looked inside drawing me in a prisoner?
I can say what a f*ckin' rush, I don’t need drugs they’re for pussies I just need my Cold War music and my mind that is like a television. On and on the music plays as the Pershing 2 and Cruise Missiles launch as F-16s and other jets battle it out in the winter heavens as the countdown to the end begins.
Who said the darkness wasn’t fun? Who did win in the end of the world?
The colour of an uncomfortable truth
Bullets of ecstasy white powder clear spirits
shots into nothingness forgetting looking away
Translucent syringes monochrome devastation
fighting for a better world wholeness surrendering
to psychedelic transcendental illusion
Explosions into Nirvana black darkness oblivion
powerful mind- and minefields one in the soul
Grenades shed colour of blood guts and gore
the olive skinned baby disappears in a flash
Rockets and missiles illuminate boots on the ground
marching to enchanted delusions of higher stronger
escalation of greed hunger power single vision and death
No stone is untouched no life unworthy of killing
men women children are equal in the addiction of war
Moving pictures on wide screens in high resolution
feature the strong hold of ruinous splashes of fire-works
a true melting pot in the scorching heat of the battle
All shades of skin colours united in excremental demise
interspersed with advertisement for super bowls
fast food consumption computer games Kentucky fried
Mac Evil’s temptation to escape poverty of kindness
Love is a silent rainbow composition of all colours combined
antidote to overwhelming addiction of domination abomination
and being hooked on humanity could shatter the madness
01st June 2016
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The etiquette of the night stands by the curtain with contentment
Picture of crawling crickets hectic body of voters colored
The darkness of imagination manipulates to dark our constitution to
constituency zone
The constant condemnation is an umbrella shared values and norms to the
nomadic.
The beauty of the night capsule of wants design to distract us from total
focus to guilty vocalist
The color of the house depicted in my imagination to beach goers like
garland escalation
Invitation of writers to describe the time of inspiration in their billions
of years of thinking
He never promised to witness the nasty sound of owl's cry as the village
hope hurt the messiah of serenity to conch sound
The tone of choir band collapsing to entertains the onlookers that never
involved in evolution epithet morning
Despite diction are sweet, but they never describe my pain as much as they
fulfilled the desires of your organs that whet my appetite to the smells of
an apple
Bend before your wife to appreciate her apple smile with broken grin to the
aggrandizement to the scent of your taste
My diary dramatize the pompous idea where conviction contends to
convulsion and it dash to my border of thinking.