Best Pacifist Poems
They taught us what to do if there's a bomb.
A big bomb.
A bomb they removed in a biopsy on a God
A big God
Scooped it out in armfuls from the body of a God
My God the blood hanging on the tresses where the speshes operated they
Taught us what to do if there's a bomb.
No point working out who it came from;
Cus wherever it came from is gone.
They taught us what to do if there's a bomb:
A big bomb:
Get the rubber round your face.
Then you radio the base.
Lie down on the ground
While your pants get browned
Are you closer to the cloud
Or the sound that pounds like a house shutting down
My god who lives, who lives to see me live a life as terrible as this my God!
Get drenched in the fear
Too thirsty to tear
Up your ears disappear
And the skies won't be clear for a long time
Peek up through your goggles for the last time
That's it soldier step up and take your prize,
And pray that you don't get vaporized My Eyes!?
My Eyes!?
Can't remember if my mom had me baptized!?
I swore I'd rather die, the great evac-in-the-sky but
Would I!?
I want to live but not like that with my tissue-pissing body like a sieve
To live is terrible
It's terrible man to survive
And you feel like you did when you were five
Tummy hurts, full of earth, where the hell is the earth
I'm rising from the ash like an afterbirth
In the mist missing what used-to-be
The mist is made of my mother and its killing me -
What was it they told us, told us, soldiers
What was it they told us, sold us, soldiers:
They said survive to fight.
My lungs are always tight!
They said survive to fight.
There's never any light!
Survive to fight.
Before I wasn't brave enough but now I just might!
Survive to fight.
Give her arm a bite!
Survive to fight.
Keep the squad white!
They started this mess it's what's best it's what's
Survive to fight.
Not for what you need
Not for what is right
Not for what your dad said when you woke him late at night but what's left!
In the unlikely event that there's a bomb;
We fight for what little is left, not right!
And left right left!
Right left right!
In the unlikely event that there's a bomb;
In the unlikely event that there's a bomb;
In the unlikely event that there's a bomb;
...
I'M A PACIFIST AND WILL KILL THE FIRST
PERSON WHO SAYS I'M NOT
The moon was in the center of the sky when I heard her scream
so she told me about her horrible dream
it is a venture I am forbidden to describe to anyone
but it involved and ex-lover, tears and a gun
the gun, in her dream, was as real as my friend freds
and in the dream someone ended up dead
who died is something I cannot reveal
all I can say is the dream to her was ultra real
so I heard her scream in the middle of the night
she doesn't remember what she told me about fright
my sweet put it out of her mind and Rolodex
and if her dream had been real he would be more than her ex
I would have stood up for my lover even if she was wrong
because i'll bet you dollars to donuts he's not that strong
let me meet him in the street somewhere someday
and her dreams like that one will fade away
© 2012....PHREEPOETREE...~free cee!~
The night, shrouds the water.
Consuming light and mocking; A
sparkle endeavors and drowns.
Ripples converge upon petals
fallen as teardrops drip from
the sadden sky.
Don’t send those violent war movies my way
For on a dusty shelf they are sure to stay
All the bloodshed and gore I do without
But with personal crises I forever do bout
By pointless horror movies I’m repulsed
And yet I’ve been known to act on impulse
If you try to mess with someone I love
I might repay you with an angry shove
Caribbean islands are sweet retreats
But my travels follow adventure’s beat
Man versus nature storylines I prefer
But to view man versus man? I defer
In many ways I am a warrior
But my peaceful side puts up barriers
They have kicked and kept him out of the military;
with the brutality of war he could not agree;
ah, but you see
what irony,
now he's leading a batallion of a rebel army !
One considers oneself a kind non-violent type of person
I even give dead birds, rats and frogs a funeral with flowers
But I go into the kitchen, and then all hell I suddenly see
As on my white floor to my horror is a hideous sea of black ants
I go berserk; suddenly the killer instinct comes into play
Madness ripping through me as I angrily grab a spray gun in hand
The poor ants are defenceless, for them it’s like an atomic bomb
I destroy sisters, brothers, cousins even babies, just any ant in sight
Kill, Kill, Kill, destroy, destroy, destroy, spray, spray, spray
The masses, the trillions, that invade my virgin white kitchen floor
All are swept to oblivion, offering no mercy, just pure revulsion and rage
Hate welling up inside my every pore, the humanitarian gone mad
Screaming, screaming, die, die, die! As I wipe this enemy away
Then peace, white floor gleaming and everything back to norm
But then I ask myself, haven’t I just killed a living thing
Lady are you so pure with your views on violence in this world
You too are capable of hate and evil, just ask that helpless little ant.
The chagrin is profound,
A heart is marred,
And bane mushrooms diffuse spores ---
But they deliver elation,
They all deliver pacifism
For which the weary
Spirit yearns.
They deliver elation
In a trivialness
From where
No spirit returns.
With eyes riveted on War,
You wouldn’t think of The Law
Nor twice look at Rules of Engagement,
Rather baring Teeth of Resentment.
With eyes fastened on War,
One would call A Virgin a Whore:
The one in chastity her best;
The Virgin freshly passed by Hymen Test.
With eyes planted on War,
We work with our worst flaw;
A willingness to waste a man
Or along roads his movements ban.
With eyes trained on War,
You’re to pacifists A Bore:
Forfeiter of one’s chair for the floor;
A demon that mustn’t near their door!
The war
is the beginning of conflict
and our rampant screeches are implicit
The weak will be treated,
but confrontation will always be repeated
Undying failure
Confrontation is the only option
You’ll endure…surrender
Be fair…be aware
because we’ll fight with bare
hands will transform
to fists
and we have no time
for pacifists
The blood smeared
On the weapons
Doubling our army
Double the agonizing shouts
Trotting in frustration
When will this aggressiveness end?
Confront the poor
And the pacifists
And fight the rich
And the mere fools
With armor
made of hard material
remain unsteady
In your filthy ditch
And make an effort
To make your last pitch
Because I’m over…
I’m done with you all
I’ll not listen to your fear-lurking call
remain unsteady
In your filthy ditch
And make an effort
To make your last pitch
Are you ever pacifist?
Don’t lift up your wretched fist
Or I’ll smear it in the mist
Don’t play me as a fool
The warfare
is the beginning of conflict
and our rampant screeches are implicit
The weak will be treated,
but confrontation will always be repeated
Confrontation will eventually
take its toll
Please…
don’t take it as a foolish game
So be aware
and play fair
or I’ll tear
your amusement…your greed
and smear it on your
destructible weapons
Should hearts obey man or God?
This is so dirt simple —
Two sheaf ears in a pacifist pod
Fear thee anthem thunder
more than the
firmament lightning rod?
There’s no question
which one
gets the soul loyalty nod
Doesn’t dove eyes
starry follow the Celestial sky will?
Compassionate commandment
engraved in stone:
A holy decree, “Thou shall not kill”
This passionate pacifist plea
deserves an universal bleat
War paint ain’t peace palette proper
Napalm hope being
dropped from a camouflage chopper
Silo echo prayers,
whisper incensed Arrows
are wavy boasting
Cemetery sepulchre rows
ere manicured revelry neat
Olive branch naysayers
extend digital particles fungi
Angry flow bloodstream
trigger the plutonium release
Obey a loving God, not hateful man,
ought not we?
Bullet dodge thermal extinction plan
is this scarlet ink sob,
pacifist plea
No matter how provoked this man gets, he never fights.
Some call him a coward but I say that he's in the right.
He is a pacifist, he'll never raise his fists in anger.
He will not fight a friend, he will not fight a stranger.
Last year somebody hit him so hard that it broke his jaw.
He immediately forgave him, I was stunned and amazed by what I saw.
Violence is something that he truly detests.
Just being his friend, makes me truly blessed.
He may not be a saint but he's pretty damn close.
When he dedicated his life to peace, it was a very good choice.
passion play
orange dots on blue wings
the butterfly extends his freedom
lavender
shares its purple pollen
reaches out disseminates measure
sweet fragrance
perfumed indigo scent
sensual feast for fleeting moments
transience
ephemeral journey
colour blind to racial divides
01st March 2021
War preferentials
restless badgers prone to kill
no sides innocent
we clamor democracy
tendered grandeur destruction
Question-Who?
Pacifist the Elf,
Bring "A" game to each day,
Foibles i have...
I do not have the answers
you seek...why ask? You know
I don’t. Besides, my answers
are not for your meek, who grow
but do not grow – reap what little
you sow!~ and already, deep down,
know.
Then, why not a firmer
hand? Why not more, a committed
heart?~ thinking...not God nor the
devil would leave one, such as
you, even a non-precious part.
The Meek Shall, and the meek
shall not….