Best Insurgents Poems
Here in violence and in beauty, living under the same moon
The beauty is so ancient, but the present violence here consumes
On one hand Afghanistan is all that it appears
Insurgents here are so deadly; through the land they spread fear
But a turn of that coin, would reveal a much different side
A land which contested the Great Alexander, and ruled by Shahs with pride
With its mighty Hindu Kush, and many rivers at hand
The graveyard of countless empires, its resistance that spans
The brave here fight hard, a fierce gamble, with their inheritance of wealth
Battling the Taliban with an opulence of old grit, using the hands they were dealt
Keeping Kandahar, Herat, Mazar-i Sharif, and the capital -Kabul
Free from tyrannical domination, oppressed by Taliban rule
I’m in awe of these courageous Afghans, this country has come far
This is the Afghanistan which I see, who else will share where they are?
This poem was inspired by "Under The Same Moon" a three way collaboration by Poet Destroyer A, Chris D.Aechtner, and NIKKO P..
Written DEC 2013 in Afghanistan
They stood and watched in horror
Their teacher was being burned alive.
Committed by what, they call themselves humans,
One hundred and thirty two children died.
What were they guilty of, what was their crime
They supported Malala and her Nobel peace prize
The Murdering Taliban's tried to kill her once
All because she wanted an education to improve girls lives
They lay there pretending to be dead
Holding their breadth when insurgents passed by,
Who killed with a smile on their face,
Only way to survive was hard not to cry.
Schools you would think were safe places
We can see now that this isn't so
Pupils at This Army Public School *
Take their lives in their hands whenever they go.
Wailing mothers are crying, wringing their hands in grief,
Why must children die how do these murderers sleep.
Penned on September 7th 2015.
* School in Peshawar Pakistan where the Afghan Taliban slaughtered children and teachers
His hand is offered to all freely
In hope that His hand will restore tranquility
Spiritual feasts for famished families
Are graciously provided by
His hand
For His hand delivers peace
Harmony prevails
When His hand works wonders
Delighted are those who accept
His hand
While families suffer torture in Iraq
His hand brushes tears away
Yet brutal insurgents refuse His hand
Lacking compassion, meaningless to them is
His hand
And when we face our final sunset
His hand will carry us to eternal life
Gates of heaven will open wide
To all who have accepted
His hand
*Written August 31, 2014
You can't imagine what its like to march on a sacred city,
to plunder and pulverize a Peoples' promise to Deity,
demolishing centuries of lavish labor, wasting offspring of ancient heredity,
destroying flesh, scriptures and stone with a savage Roman military synergy,
a discipline determined in it's destruction of dissention, inspired by ancestral victory,
politics was not our purview, methodical punishment was our specialty,
We were War's royalty, we were Legio XV Apollonaris,
monsters of Mars, messengers of Apollo, the juggernaut of Jupiter,
along with 11 other Legions led by General Titus, 60, 000 cuts of glory we stood,
for 3 and a half years we fought through Jewish guerilla ambush
asymetrical urban warfare welting our progress like a pirate pestilence
district after district, hell spell after hell spell we bled with chilled maneuver,
the Zealots were pyromaniacs, burnt sacraficers, their zeal and our bodies zesty wood,
in the Kidron Valley they flooded the streets " knee high " with oiled water
as the Cohorts waded through the lanes leery, a torch was tossed, flames rose in rush
240 men perished like spazing stars trapped in a box, our grief agape with a horrified crush,
as reprimand, Titus made the Legate sit in a tent with his chopped off ring finger
smoldering like hot sand in the hand of a marooned man aware of error in his plan,
the insurgents had men we called Fox Tails, desperate demons who knew how Hell began,
as a skirmish succumbed to our skill and number they would run into apartments,
dragging the fury of our blades into rooms of Hades revenge, these were fire entrapments,
the buildings would blaze like windowed volcanos, screams salting us with panic linger,
It was not uncommon to discover a missing Brother Legionary
castrated, and decapitated with a headedless eagle carved upon his chest,
don't speak to me about morals and mercy for I have seen and dealt the damage of rude death
hate becomes your Father, vengence your Mother, aggravated murder your cause
when everything you revere and fear merge to make a leviathen of life,
the " Chosen People " of God became the chosen target of annihilation,
Mount Moriah, mansion of Yahweh the Pariah would become capital of Divine crucifixion,
J.A.B.
This poem has been entered into the Roman Legion Contest
to honor Ancient Rome and the Poet who sponsored this historical subject.
I'm sorry for ever calling you a especially when it was usually a argument about something I did & you asked me to switch
I had it confused I didn't know your significance to this Earth now I know you came & come first
I had to walk through the fire & confront my own demons but it was too late when I woke up & realized I was dreaming
You were gone & you took everything good that was in me I was misogynistic but that's all that I knew how to be you were truly the best thing that ever happened to me
Im ashamed of the amount of disrespect I displayed you are the temple that should be on display not only do I want to hold your hand but I want you to see me become a better man I'll lay my life down to protect your crown & as long as I succeed I'll rest in piece in the ground
I really feel like the black woman is my God and savior if I had Mansa Musa gold it wouldn't be enough to pay you I owe you every breath in my body & every beat of my heart I have a lot of repenting to do so today I'll start
I should have never called you out of your name I should have never made you a unwilling participant in my games I should have never projected my insecurities on to you now that I'm wiser I realize that was the coward thing to do I should have never intertwined my soul with another woman and come home to you transferring those spirits is a dangerous thing to do
I'm sure you'll read this & think of the things I left out but I hope when you read it you'll see now what I'm about the disrespect stops here & anyone who continues should feel fear you are my Queen & will be treated as such I am your soldier any insurgents that dare to touch will bow at your feet when I put the in the Cobra clutch I love you so much
#VIEWSFROMTHETRAP
#POEMSROMTHETRAP
Inside the town of Chibok the tears flow in pain
Abduction, unexpected; abhorrence and disdain.
They came with evil intent and took the girls away
These are but harmless children, for what are they to pay?
Are these the brave insurgents who flaunt the law at will
By taking girls as hostage, their hearts with terror fill?
What’s wrong with education? Of what are they afraid?
Is this the real mettle from which true men are made?
Release them, they are children; your deeds are wrong and fake
Just listen to the pleading. Wake up for heaven’s sake!
(Written after the kidnapping of nearly 300 Nigerian schoolgirls in April 2014.)
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Contest: a poem you have not entered in a poetry soup contest #1
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placing: 3rd
You can't imagine what it's like to march on a sacred city,
to plunder and pulverize a Peoples' physical promise to a Deity,
demolishing centuries of lavish labor,
wasting offspring of ancient heredity,
destroying flesh, scripture and stone
with a savage Roman military synergy,
a discipline determined in it's destruction of dissension
inspired by ancestral victory,
politics was not our purview,
methodical punishment was our specialty,
We were War's royalty,
we were Legio XV Apollonaris
monsters of Mars, messengers of Apollo,
the juggernaut of Jupiter,
along with 11 other legions led by General Titus
60,000 cuts of glory we stood,
for 3 and a half years we fought through the Jewish guerilla ambush
asymmetrical urban warfare welting our progress
like a pirate pestilence,
district after district, hell spell after hell spell we bled with chilled maneuver,
the Zealots were pyromaniacs, burnt sacrificers
their zeal and our bodies zesty wood,
in the Kidron Valley they flooded the streets ankle high with oiled water
as the Cohorts waded through the lanes leery
a torch was tossed,
flames rose in a rush,
240 men perished like spazing stars trapped in a box,
our grief agape with horrified crush,
as reprimand, Titus made the Legate sit in a tent
with his chopped off ring finger
smoldering like hot sand in the hand of a marooned man
aware of error in his ill plan,
the insurgents had men we called fox tails,
desperate demons who knew how Hell began,
as a skirmish succumbed to our skill and number
they would run into apartments
dragging the fury of our blades into rooms of Hades revenge,
these were fire entrapments,
the buildings would blaze like windowed volcanos
screams salting us with panic linger,
J.A.B.
ideals to inspire soldiers
when 9/11 spewing black clouds meant a
complicated revenge
defeat terrorists, take out bin Laden
remake a country in democratic vestments
golden good intentions that lose their way in
an undertow of violence
the bones of wartime, bullets of combat carnage
Taliban insurgents hide and seek in Pakistan
militants wait to impose their laws
as a regime falls, unhinged by corruption
unwilling to fire a shot
swift capitulation like jaws snapping shut
US departure, flawed
dangles like severed wires
refugees stampede
flee the bondage of remaining
evacuation - a spreading blood stain, chaotic
Afghanistan intervention, no sound preconditions
for success
in an end game that had no ending?
just more of the same?
achievements of 20 years
seep through outstretched hands
like heated wars
storms of desert sand
that fixate on what cannot be changed
Poem composed September 5/21
For Afghanistan Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Faith that endangers and saves
It was 1988, Bogota, Colombia, during the time of (La Violencia) the 40 year war of insurgents against the government. At the same time Pablo Escobar was wreaking havok, killing and maiming thousands, all who opposed his cocaine empire. Americans who were found in the country were viewed with suspicion (were they DEA agents, were they spies?) I was there with 20 others (all North Americans) we were on a Christian missionary assignment, constructing the national headquarters and Bible publishing factory in a small town 40 kms outside of Bogota. The Bishop was not happy with us building in his town. He called and complained to the Mayor, who then called the Governor who then called the President, who then called the Military to intervene in what they thought was some illegal clandestine activity by Americans. Two convoys of soldiers came without warning, and broke into our compound, soldiers searching and screaming "donde estan los Gringos?" (where are all the Americans?) I was quickly hidden underneath a pile of wood in the carpentry shop, I could see the soldiers with their machine guns, in a frenzy checking everywhere. I prayed fervently for a half hour, supplicating God to save us! Not one of us were found that day!
Faith that endangers
Scorching animosity
God's saving power
For Faith Haibun Contest by Regina Riddle
July 09,2020
I hope I'll soon awaken from this nightmare of grief
I fell asleep and woke in scenes from The Twilight Zone
The world is a mess with horrors far beyond belief!
Worse than any Rod Serling episode would've shown
It's an alien nation, but the odd spacemen are human
Insurgents with weapons, threatening to declare war
Skin of white, brown and black; all of them fumin'
Setting fires of destruction; acts of violence I abhor
I try to rise from my bed, but I envision ugly views
of a monster trying to rule Earth, disguised as a germ
How surreal is this kind of attack? It must be a ruse!
Should such a horrible dream continue, long-term?
Breaking News!! There's been a fraudulent election
America has been disgraced by President, Don Trump
who claims FOUL, causing a rebellious insurrection!
Impossible! No decent Pres could be such a chump
And then it became even more unbelievable to me
The world learns the germ lives in a human's breath
Never again will I watch The Twilight Zone on my TV
if it leads to nightmares filled with so much death!
Sunlight warmed my face, and I woke in a fright,
recalling that my nightmare was founded on facts
How bizarre are these times of preposterous plight
in an alienated world, guilty of so many hideous act
VERILY I PRAY TO JESUS YAHWEH INCLUDING ALLAH ITS BEEN TWO YEARS NOW WHEN BIDEN AND ALL THE HORRORS SEVERE THREATS DURING COVID OUR LIVES IN SHAMBLES AN YET DOMESTIC TERRORISTS RIPPED OUR FLAGS MORBIDLY BREAKING INTO OUR HOME WE HAVE SPENT OVER 3000 IN NEW LOCKS LOCK SMITHS SECURITY CAMS THE JAN 6TH NEIGHBORS BUST THEM OUT IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT THEY CRAWL OVER FENCES PUT KEYSNIN THE DOORSBTO MAKE QUICKSET KEYS TO ENTER OUR HOME CIRCLINGBOUT APPOINTMENTS ON OUR CALENDAR SO THEY KNOW WHEN TO STROKE TAMPERING WITH MY VIETNAM VETERANS MEDALS OUR MORTAGE BANK INFORMANTION MEDICAL INFORMATION I SUFFER I SUFFER MENTAL ILLNESS PTSD TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY MY HUSBAND AS WELL REACHING FIR MY BIBLE IT'S NOT RIPPED OR FOLDED THESE TERRORISTS ARE BOLDLY MERGING WITH THE SAME DOMESTIC TERRORISTS BITTER OVER MY AMERICAN POETRY MY GOD ITS DEVASTATING THESE ARE INSURGENTS BULLIES COMMITING HOME INVASION EXTORTING OUR PEACE HERE IN AMERICA GOD BLESS AMERICA
Dr. Clement Moloch professes in torture.
He is always accompanied by Claire, his sister.
Moloch performs clandestine operations for governments.
He is responsible for the torture and death of insurgents.
Holland is journalist Jorge Hidalgo’s friend.
Holland learned Jorge’s life came to an end.
The doctor killed Jorge with high voltage electricity.
Senor Hidalgo was another victim of the doctor’s killing spree.
Hector Lomelin informs Holland of the predicament.
Lomelin attempts to talk Holland out of retirement.
Holland refuses, but later changes his mind.
Dr. Moloch is someone assassin Holland must find.
Holland learns Moloch and his sister are in Central America.
Moloch has been hired by the government of Guatemala.
There are several bodyguards protecting the doctor.
Moloch even has the aid of the American ambassador.
Holland takes out his targets one by one.
He is very adept with both the knife and the gun.
If you are wondering how this escapade will end,
all I have to say is, “See the movie, friend”.
Based on the 1984 film “The Evil That Men Do”.
INSURRECTION
There was absence of nonviolent intent exhorting fierce opposition
Fanning the flame of loathing and disunion fueling a grim situation
Not one listened to the voice which implored for reason and sanity
They heard the gavel evenly struck but nobody heeded the decree
Among mobs of the disenchanted the Authoritarian falsely grieved
Planted noxious seeds in the souls of those who fervently believed
Embodies evil enticing mesmerized ill-informed disciples to imbibe
Drank his wine of toxicity and deceit and pledge to fortify the tribe
Peaceful transition of power mangled by insurgents altering reality
Shards of glass blood on faces and banners of lies unfurled enmity
Heroes defended the gate overwhelmed by an invasion of savages
In concealed haven lawmakers feared for life if seized as hostages
Within a flash heads rush turning rage into madness inciting revolt
Pointing fingers at faces who aptly believe the validity of the result
Eyes wearing blinders defied not to listen bent in declaring a battle
Blemished the foundation of democracy and justice intended for all
Those who worship freedom aptly stood up against seditious storm
Laid down wreaths and red roses for a warrior masses sadly mourn
There is space for reconciliation allowing wound to heal in due time
While this page in history fades optimism awaits arrival of sunshine
*the incident has passed, yet the effect has been carved in the hearts and minds of those who endeavor peace and prosperity, not war*
01/25/2021
5:09 p.m.
Riviera Beach, Florida
USA
We are soldiers
This is our life
our job
our career
Chosen for reasons whatever
In peace and in conflict
Striving to achieve our dreams
Struggling to suppress our fears
We are the Armed Forces
strong
proud
able-bodied
Dedicated to protecting our country
nation's people
Large ponderous units
Crossing the vast expanse of unfamiliar terrain
well trained
meticulously drilled
A special breed
powerful force
band of brothers
Instructed in the art of war
Where survival is not an option
And if we fall dignify us
The price we will pay
loss
death
We belong to the world
peacekeeping
disaster
war
We only ask for support
understanding
respect
War is globally rejected
Third world regimes grasping greater power
terrorists
insurgents
rebel forces
Their native peoples desperate plea for relief
genocide
slavery
capture
torture
To reject would be inhumane
answering requires military
force
The product is war
spawning hostility
destroying the innocent
mouthing ignorance
The reality of it all
sadness
families suffer
blame spent
sides taken
casualties
Someone has to die.
RODRIGUEZ THE TINPOT DICTATOR
“Hello, my name is Rodriguez the tinpot dictator of South American country A. I came to power and made everyone a communist whether they liked it or not.
Those who disagreed disappeared. You see, I ain’t a bad man but as I’m in power I have to be firm and they’re no more.
Some call me Steel Balls as I go up against my country’s insurgents, in the pay of the Yanks, and tie down their capitalist forces in a futile war they can never win and I send the traitors’ families the bill for the bullets – pay up or die!
Everything went well till the Americans sent the Marines in and we beat them at first but now we are losing, so I’ll soon be out of a home and a job. I’ll find another country and take my cause to them, overthrow their government and be a dictator again.
Ill teach the Zionists a lesson and show them how a communist can fight.”