Best Guerrilla Poems


Premium Member Wars of Difference and Different Wars

Dream on man
War is constant
It has gone beyond
Catholic or Protestant

Religious wars
From our short lived past
Will never dilute
As long as we last

In this modern world
We fight for different reasons
What ever the excuse
And in any season

We fight over land
Imaginary WMD
Even over soccer
How the hell can that be

We now fight over oil
In a camouflaged war
Taking innocents with us
In public deplore

Guerrilla, assault
Bombing with precision 
We vote them in
As they twist their decisions

Dream on man
War has changed
Greed has taken over
From the pasts deranged




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-3.php

Premium Member They Never Heard What Was Said

The year is 2310
Humans still inhabit this earth
When they view all around them
It hardly seems worth

For their ancestors before them
Never heard what was said
If they continued to abuse her
In two hundred years she'll be dead

As they look out their windows
And view as they say
As they scroll through their histories
The world their ancestors knew in their day

    
    They lived at the time
    When their world was at lush
    Where animals were still with them
    Some demised to a hush

    The Polar circles were threatened
    By mans carbon emissions
    They never heard what was said
    About common sense missions

    Their populations exploded
    As they struggled to feed
    Their richer got richer
    Conglomerate greed

    The life of their planet
    Continually plundered and raped
    Rain forests destroyed
    Barren lands now drape

    Conflicts were rife
    Guerrilla warfare the norm
    Pales into significance
    From the 90's Desert Storm


As they look out their windows
And view as they say
As they scroll through their histories
The world their ancestors threw away




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-5.php

Freedom Fighters

We are the freedom fighters, fighting for survival
Hopefully the next generation follow the same road in their arrival
I wanna make a list of the real ones
Certified legends the true dons
Nelson Mandela led the struggle against apartheid and became president
Heritage of a small village, that’d part of our resident
Marcus Garvey, leader of the Pan-African movement
Wanted us to go back to Africa for improvement
Malcolm X was a warrior in the fight against racism
But people feel he was some type of convict because he went to prison
Martin Luther King brought equal and civil rights for his brothers and sisters
Walked 54 miles for freedom, must have had blisters
Che Guevara was part of the Cuban revolution
To sought out the madness Guerrilla warfare solution
Muhammad Ali, the greatest boxer to step in the ring
Was against war, that’s why I call him king
Fellow freedom fighters, fight for your freedom.


Dien Bien Phu

Lessons learned
by first the Chinese
then France
and the Unites States...

Never underestimate
unconventional units
or guerrilla warfare
supported by regular units...

Dien Bien Phu
Bernard B. Fall
called it
"Hell in a very small place"
soon after 1954
America walked the "Street without joy"

The Viet Minh
attacking satellite positions
seven in all
such names as

"Huguette"
"Claudine"
"Gabrielle"
"Beatrice"

General Giap
former school teacher
later besieged Khe Sanh
saved only by B-52 air strikes...

What men will die for
makes less sense
as time goes by...

Perhaps it is
the unspoken honor
among comrades
and brothers...

Still they soldiered on
60 years has passed
and around the world
the madness has grown...
~ ~ ~ ~

Superficial Smiles

Superficial Smiles by Shane Cogan

A trapped house can be worse than a prison
Cell doors open daily, a sealed house door never
Guards who snarl or smile is a guard forever
They also torture, but you found your own prism
Selected friends are such a treasure
Deselect those friends at your leisure


Superficial smiles, superficial cries 
Superficial tastes, superficial wastes


Handshakes in the morning 
Sour milkshakes for lunch
Diluted conversations for dinner
Repetitive dreams again for bedtime

Small talk discussions over a croissant
Alcohol dimensions under a florescent
Frantic racing is your new norm
A lost cause, caught up in a storm


Superficial smiles, superficial cries 
Superficial lies, superficial allies


Silly allergies are your only sickness 
You deem painkillers to be your only cure
Subscription pills for the old highs
Illegals for the new lows

What is right in one place 
Deemed a disease or a disgrace
Solitude is your new pleasure 
Despair is a lonely measure


Superficial smiles, superficial cries 
Superficial spies with superficial eyes


Today's headline is tomorrow's forgotten story
Profits over people, with business in all its glory 
Che Guevara t-shirts or Guerrilla warfare neritic?
Revolutionary heroes or a Sunday armchair critic?

Mass television pictures replacing dialogue
Mindless headline people news is our new fog
What would you do now for a taste of reality?
Do you miss and crave my sensuality?

A frank remark is better than a false smile
Our historical heroes are now sadly footnoted
No longer accepted, no longer quoted
Smiles mean nothing; a false handshake is our new style


Superficial smiles, superficial cries 
Superficial skies with superficial eyes


© Shane Cogan, 2013

Premium Member The Life and Legend of Jessie James

Jessie James was a fine young lad,
When he joined the Confederate troops.
He learned his craft as a shootist and spy,
While traveling with this group.

His commander was one Capt. William Quantrill,
A man with a checkered past;
And under this man he learned hit and run,
Leave your enemies standing aghast.

After his death in 1865,
Quantrill's celebrity stayed,
And Jessie and Frank used what they had learned,
And found guerrilla warfare paid.

They formed with their friends a wild outlaw band,
And looted the banks and trains.
It seemed to work out just as they planned.
To them it seemed quite a good game.

The money came easy and life was good,
And Jessie took him a wife;
Deciding to settle down for a while,
And lead a respectable life;

But two men were killed in a robbery gone bad,
And the governor wanted his life;
And one of his friends thought he'd turn him in,
And get paid and save himself strife.

Dead or Alive made no difference to him,
The reward would still be the same,
But Jessie was fast and his aim was true,
So it seemed to Bob Ford it was plain,

Jessie would have to be caught unawares,
If he would celebrity claim,
The honor, prestige, reward and glory,
As the man who shot Jessie James.

April the third, eighteen eighty-two,
Robert crept up on his friend,
Shot him in the back as a coward will do,
And that's how his story ends;

But Robert lived on in shame and disgrace,
As a low down, back stabbing coward,
Who betrayed his friend for money and fame,
On the day that he shot Thomas Howard.



"AND JESUS SAID UNTO PETER,'PUT UP AGAIN YOUR SWORD INTO IT'S PLACE FOR ALL THEY WHO TAKE THE SWORD SHALL PERISH BY THE SWORD."
                                                                                         Matthew 26:52



For Dana's History Contest
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.


Alone But Not Lonely

I hide in the corner behind a cloud of smoke 
Then find myself laughing at a strangers joke
For i seemed to have developed a hobby you see
Quietly sitting back watching people be 

I don't want to meet them or learn there name
I just sit back and observe like some kind of game
Regardless of how nice they may seem
To meet them would be disappointing and obscene

For good manners are no more
Just look and shopping malls it's like a guerrilla war
Although i do get some joy from strangers action 
Like a child eating an ice-cream with gleeful satisfaction

But still i have no need to talk
I'm more than happy to sit and gawk

Tall people, Short people, fat ladies snorting
And my favorite awkward young lovers courting
Its a quiet existence this life of mine 
To be perfectly honest it suits me fine

I'm alone but not lonely
For my house is quiet homely
And as long as i have my stranger friends
I will live like this happy to my end.

Memory of Masquerades Cat-Walking

Flaring free tickets to the cynosure show,
  Waking up early to dusty harmattan blow,
  To perceive piercing Uveve whistle set senses on edge,
  Death squad masquerades subsumed in gaily attire,
  All bedecked in guerrilla cultural parlance,
  All disembodied martyr gods,
  All traded on fear,
  Cannibal cutlasses hunt bloody raw human heads,
  Heavenly artists antics in acrobatic flavour,
  Madam Agemo, the breastful motherhood of all chimera,
  Lurid Lekewogbe, likable, such dashing fashionista menace,
  Grand-master Lapanpa, the monitor of all garish tigerish garments,
  Tumbling and resplendent Igunuko, the shrouding spirit
  Of snow slush lace adornment,
  Straw Zangbeto, the fur monster from the underworld,
  Petite Yala, the transforming fiery,
  Phantom Paramole, the vamoosing magical ogre,
  Striding Angere, the stilted  strolling  storm,
  Camouflage Gelede, and the saga of carved breathing heads,
  All premodial pageantry of paean and paganism in collision.
  

  {Names of traditional masquerades from Africa}

Premium Member No Color Or Relgion, Ever Stopped a Bullet From a Gun

I heard on the news
Another two are lost
That makes 206
Is there, a whatever the cost
 
We are there to assist
A country so reft
Inner fighting
To help the rest of the left
 
Guerrilla warfare
Tactically strong
Thousands of miles
Where we don't belong
 
The people we vote in
Would they go in their place
To show their people
Dying is no disgrace
 
I will never allow
My children to fight
A war so improper
A conflict not right
 
To show our presence
As we parade their land
A remote explosion
Blown up on demand
 
How can we serve
A regime so unfair
They can starve their women
Because he can't have her there
 
To fight for their freedom
As they fight themselves
The decision should be made
To save ourselves
 
The Russians failed
So now we try
Coalition troops
In daily die
 
The modern wars
Will always be run
No color or religion
Ever stopped a bullet from a gun



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war.php

House of Dengbej

In The House Of Dengbej
 

Three sisters sit
Each in crimson velvet
And veiled hair.
Relate tales
Of interracial love.
Of Armenian Boys and Kurdish Gals.
This is a town of
Cobbled streets and redbrick houses of the ancient Lore.
Diyarbakir, Sur.
Fidus Achates: an Armenian gal and a Kurdish girl
Are no more. The ghosts of the Armenians; translucent
Still linger on the mud walls.
Poplar trees cast melancholy shadows
Over the last remaining residents
Mostly Kurdish
Soon to join the ghosts of the Armenians?
Still the guerrilla resistance continues.
Behind the soiled curtains of white lace.
Death is a banality. Blood spills on baked soil
Daily.
Freedom is a distant land to be conquered.
Wine making and relating tales of ancient lores
And the allure. Lured the youth to Sur.


The House of Dengbej in Sur.
Finest stories are spun like sugar
 

And spread from tongue to tongue.
 
* Sur was once a very cosmopolitan town with a harmonious community. It is now a town of bitter conflict between the Turks and Kurdish.

Killing Kilojoules

my noble efforts seem to be in vain 
my sweat army fights a huge enemy 
In every ugly battle we take strain 
battle weary troops are my penalty 
my weak will my only soft weaponry 

defiant kilojoules taunt my sweat troops 
they gather themselves in organized groups 
their guerrilla warfare holds the war reign 
a sneaky snack attack caused a big whoops 
now I have to rethink my whole campaign 

-19 July-
© Just James  Create an image from this poem.

Children At Risk

Children At Risk
children are at risk when they can 
physically hold a gun
forced recruitment of guerrilla groups
is not unknown
and occurs mainly in the third world
some return home
with help of pulleys 
and improvised shear legs 
with difficulty are able to move
the fallen portion of their bodies
mutilated by mines
in the lost cities of African
South America
they were capable physically to hold a gun
now if opportunity
they can take a pencil and a paper
and go to school
to learn how to read and write

Fifty-Two Plus One Hike Hypocrisy Part 3

People of the blue hill arrowhead new inroads  settled the plum-rock if they would have known the thirteen crystal skulls would sing of disease prayer towns taken for granite People's Republic  Taxachusett old colony pilgrim bay Make It Yours; The Spirit of America By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty                                                Large waters people of the three fires living in peace the Cadillac’s bristling hairs of fur trade stir the fox seven years of war and more expanding breaking treatise Out of many, one I will defend everyone wants the land  great lake wolverine mitten Winter Water Wonderland World's Motor Capital  America's High Five Great Lakes,                              Great Times; More To See  If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you                    Land of rolling cloudy water dropping milk into water friends of the free people forced into smaller lands where crop failure a winters starvation red tape no credit for food                  If they're hungry, let them eat grass friends at war over three hundred warriors                No attorneys or witness were allowed as a defense for the accused, and many were convicted in less than five minutes but Sheridan's, Custer’s and Baker’s plan                   was a dawn attack on a village in heavy snow, when most of the Indians would be sleeping or huddling inside to keep warm. It was a strategy he had employed before Explore Land of 10,000 Lakes Bread and Butter north Vikings north star Sky-Blue Waters                        *                                                                                     These called rebels heathen from underground before they had a flag forced to walk the trail of tears to be the red men from a land the government never paid then there is the slaves when cotton was king the Free people of color children of European men and enslaved women but half the population were slaves until KKK’s burning cross waving  the guerrilla war flag calling it "the White Man’s Flag" as well as stating:“ As a people we are fighting to maintain the Heaven-ordained supremacy of the white man over the inferior or colored race; a white flag would thus be emblematical of our cause. ”  Birthplace of America's Music magnolia bull bay the hospitality Feels Like Coming Home; The South's Warmest Welcome
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Lice Attack

They prepared a squad to ambush
On hairy forests of a human head.
Things were well planned to push
The army on the murky skin-bed.

Army of Lice marched on warily
Towards the places assigned to all.
They had to peep everywhere slyly
Lest they are knocked by Fingernail.

The Larger ones are the commanders
Of this momentous Guerrilla attack.
Smalls will follow forgetting Slanders
And battle with guts, work in Pack.

They furrow the skin to make Trench
So that they can fight and stay secure.
Some would plunge in them to drench
Themselves in the blood for adventure.

These Lice have a Mission to fulfill.
They make slices of nice hair with
Their teeth of Vice like stinging Eel
Or Mice, with ruthless urge beneath.

They have attacked on the Two-footed,
Some would hide and ambush at once,
Some hang by hair until it’s uprooted.
All they do is sip, sting, cling, flounce.
© Osman Gani  Create an image from this poem.

King of the Hill

<                                               Vietnam War
                                              Capture of Saigon


                                               What The Hell For


                                                   Guerrilla war

                                                 Conventional war


                                                 What The Hell For

                                                       
                                                       Laotians
                                                    Cambodians
                               
                                                     Vietnamese
                                                    U.S.  Soldiers 
                  

                                                     Casualties


                                                 What The Hell For


My Thoughts On 
The Vietnam War


May All R.I.P.

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