Best Innocents Poems
Sweet smile of innocents
Skin so soft, sweet smells of powder scents,
Nothing can compare
A little innocent babe
Root of ourselves
A gift to us to be valued
Sweet smile of innocents
Looks upon its loving parent
To warm our gentle heart
In Its safe haven
Of our loving arms
Life special moments to remember
Our heritage to be carried on in this innocent soul
So important to model our lives with love and not hate
Children learn the ethical values by watching the actions of adults they respect
By Eve Roper 11/9/2014
Millipede eating baby cockroach
An innocent victim
I feel no sympathy
In a war-torn town
on a cold Christmas morn'
two children huddle close
trying to keep warm.
They have asked for no presents,
no toys of fun,
just for the gift of life
and the silence of the gun.
Caught in a madman’s rage
Life distorted
Normal becomes abnormal
Sense becomes senseless
Logic disappears
Flowers appear
Springing from the bloody ground
Can they hallow the soil?
In this eternal struggle
Of good versus evil
Love versus hate
The decision is yours
Choose wisely among
The images you resurrect
Will you choose
Flowers
Living symbols
A kaleidoscope
Of changing patterns
Varied hues of
Red, yellow, orange and purple
Delicate and wild
Single and in bouquets
Spreading as grief flows
Like blocks in a quilt
Standing at attention
Mirroring internal struggles
First fear, grief and anger
Later, forgiveness
Will you choose
The glint of sunlight on steel
The thunder of bullets
Tearing flesh
Faces contorted
Bodies crumpled, discarded
Left where they fall
As a fetus without a womb
Animal sounds emerge
Without a home to go to
Echoing through
The community, the nation, the world
Hate as strong
As the gun’s metal,
Contains within its chambers
Limited volleys
Once expended
Its power dissipates
Love, as delicate
As the flowers’ petals,
Conceals within its pods
Seeds
As infinitesimally small
As grains of sand
Stretching
Through space and time
Imagine
Nature choosing for you
After hate’s missiles end
Love’s seed sows itself
Endlessly
Norway – July 2011
Third version September 2011
Fourth version Oct
KDK
Innocents bruised and battered.
A world where fear and confusion reign together
in sonic synchronicity
The vainglorious cast their shadows of doubt,
on seekers of truth and serenity
The heart of man never learns,
only for greed and it´s lust for money it burns
Human compassion is silenced by profits,
tongues tied with fragile ropes
Innocents are shattered, scattered
bruised and battered
left without hope.
Hateful speech, fearmongering,
bombastic antics on display
Earth´s future is on life support
can´t continue...
breathing this way.
Who can stop them?
Change the heart of man?
Change the world as we know it?
Only God can help us now,
we need to trust him...and to show it.
John Derek Hamilton
March 08,2016
May there always be a God/dess for you
a Messiah with you
a Kalki in you
a Maitreya of you
a Twelfth Imam as you.
May there always be a living God/dess
who sees Our best communicating Self through your eyes,
who hears Their most beautiful song in your ears,
who smells Our most transporting fragrant presence
as outside/inside We/Me.
May you always breathe
and beat your heart
with and as,
in and for,
our divine Earth GaianGod;
some ReCreative CoBecoming with a higher
and healthier
pay scale
than the Tooth Fairy,
or an Empty Trump UnLawSuit
against full-deck GaianAce through GodKing
extended family values.
The Death of the Innocents
By Elton Camp
About politics or government I take no position
In this, yet another, “horrors of war” composition
My memories of the Second World War are few
My time was occupied with what little kids do
The reasons for rationing were regularly reported
That there was a foreign war that must be supported
The attack on Pearl Harbor I don’t remember at all
Or that President Roosevelt for war on Japan did call
That atomic bombs were dropped, I didn’t know
But learned of it in school much later, though
Playing and riding my tricycle was the thing to do
A Hiroshima child my age was then doing it too
The Japanese child, I haven’t the slightest doubt
As with me, didn’t know what the war was about
I think, with horror, of that child’s searing pain
If he survived, lifelong scars were sure to remain
To praise war, some feel there are reasons to try
Let’s not forget about all the innocents who die
(Written after seeing a child's devastated tricycle on display in a Hiroshima museum)
Take me down to ground zero, brother,
I need to see the truth -
where dark angles from hell
put evil in place,
and three thousand innocents died.
Take me down to ground zero, sister,
I want to feel the void -
when an enemy’s faith
put death before life,
and cowards made innocents die.
Take us to the five-sided fortress
and also honor the field -
where a test in the West
started defense,
and our bravest are still rollin’ on.
Solemn newscasters retell
Accounts filled with sorrow.
More children lost
where they should have been safe.
Seven lives cut short by
the careful planning of one.
We see Rachel’s tears
falling again. They’re gone.
Parents, communities cry out
“How can such evil be addressed?”
Empty arms ache with excruciating pain.
We remember Michelangelo’s “La Pieta”,
She neither blamed her Creator,
nor held back her expression of sorrow.
As we see yet another example of innocent slaughter,
And wonder how we address this culture of death.
Such pervasive life-destroying demands provoke us
to join the saints below the altar and cry, “How long Lord…?
Itchy Fingers?
I don’t mind dying in a nuclear war.
As long as it’s quick, not a lingering bore.
It’ll give the elite a chance to see the cloud.
Kill off the plebs in a crimson shroud.
I know their fingers are itching.
To press the oblivion button.
See what happens,
from Moscow to Sutton.
and all the places in between,
They’ll watch it from their bunkers.
All the beautiful people I mean.
The psychopaths who own us
And control our pointless lives.
We the workers who feather their hives.
So, press it Musk, Trump, Putin and all else
Hidden in your bunkers focusing on self.
Obliterate the world.
And the useless kind
You can do it to me.
I really don’t mind.
David Cox 27/02/24
As Nissan cars drove through the bars they picked up Jesus who yelled out to
the populous HEY LOOK AT ME I’M FREE! And he was free to and God said
check in later, but go be who you want to be. Society cried for the souls they lost
wondering at what cost and the billboards lied and the fire hydrants said come
inside it is safe we will protect you from the fire and all the while I wondered why
you didn’t open your mind to find out what was real and what was feral and they
said with their pretty hair, their arms bare they’re faces full of fake care, eyes
wondering who was over there and are we safe in this place, she’s to wild for us,
we’ve had enough she’s crazy you see she knows who we will be we would
rather follow what they say instead of think! and the flowers screamed YOU
NEED A SHRINK but no one listened because we could only hear and feel so we
fell over in pain and it started to rain all the same and the droplets hit the ground
bursting into anger and hate it drew out our fate cracked the concrete as it fell
and dripped poison into the well. It’s a hard rain she screamed. ATOMIC RAIN!
Society screamed. NUCLEAR RAIN! they yelled and ran crashing into one
another over reacting once again over analyzing all the same and we watched in
shock as the riots were fought and in a whisper I heard the wind zoom by my ear
and suddenly I could feel right in wrong very strong but I forgot it the next day and I
forgot how to read and to write and spell and I forgot how to speak and to feel
and smell and it wasn’t until I forgot how to think how to open my mind how to
see what could rhyme what was fine and then my eyes glazed over and I broke
the window in front of me so I could see what I wanted to steal was not real just
tubes and spark plugs that would make my life empty but my mind was so
closed and my eyes so open that there was nothing left to tell me the truth so I
joined the acid rain riots and all became quiet. The end of the world took place
that day but we all keep living that exact same way.
slaughtered innocents
lambs on an evil altar
sacrificed to hate
carnage outrages the gods
spilt blood spells out remember
For Carolyn's 9-11 contest
Of the bastard’s son, his mentality belied
That which was unforeseen among simple minded
People. A state with which corruption pollutes and lies,
While women in white sheets must be reminded.
For who can join in speech of which social populace cries,
When thou who is speaking knows not about the world therein?
A world filled with painted red roses living in a civility veiled guise
Must too soon realize that those who rule are those kingpins of tough skin.
Maidens of weak nature who abstain from pleasures of flesh
Are meant to be products of those who they sire from.
While pristine image flounders like a home creche
Mandates order amongst chaos, to live amongst the intellectually numb.
Virgin innocence reins clipped and controlled by those noble
Of intention, while the victim remains stuck in constructs – lost and immobile.
Your wild innocents
brings me to my knees
like a hurricane with a soft breeze
your all i want to please
Keep me by your side
and Its your smile that you will never hide
just stay for a little while
our exit in just one mile
The sun set red and yellow streaming through the western sky
I play with danger but never die
I guess its my old friend luck that never fails me
As my head lay on his shoulder
Because I found love that night
His face light by the moon light
I was certain that there would be no cure
It was his love of which i was sure
A wedding ring will soon be bought
A big house on a big lot
couple of bird dogs and bond fire
my love for you will never tire
Taking the Life of Innocents
A cold, Wisconsin dawn....
The children, burrowed under thick blankets and yawned.
Mother reminded them it was time for Sunday Mass!
“Bring your best rosaries, made of rainbowed, crystal glass!
Obedient children, they dressed with finesse and class.
“For after Mass this very noon,we are going to the Kenosha
Christmas parade, with festive balloons, very soon!”
Michelle, your friend, with her dance class will be in it.
Mom continued,” she has been baton twirling for many weeks,
getting out all the kinks.”
Later, we all piled into Mom’s wonderful van!
Off to-the Parade was our fun plan.
Jack, my brother and I, sat behind the barricades.
Our best front row seats, to see the hometown
Kenosha Christmas Parade.
I sat there dreaming, planning to be in it next year.
When suddenly bullets flew round about me, and so I
hunched my shoulders in fear.
Brother Jack on the sidewalk lay.
His face not pink, but the color of clay..
Bodies, children of God, run over
or struck, by an SUV?
Any age got to be injured, or were sent to
the Lord.
As other cried, screamed and prayed this
fateful day.
This horror ...when one man took many
lives.
This is neither humane,nor is it
the American way.
My parents were sobbing uncontrollably.
I asked Jesus, to not take Jack ....but me.
I knew the famous Green BayPacker, he one day
Had hoped to be.
************
A poem based on a real attack....
in Kenosha, Wisconsin.
Nov 21, 2021
www.newsone.com
www.Kenoshanews.com