Best Recruits Poems
Years ago, my aunt developed mesothelioma. She and her husband did not have money for medical care. It was a Jewish hospital that took her in, and helped her through her last days free of charge.
The Jews have built many hospitals, made contributions to many charities, and established many foundations. The list is endless.
Jews have been instrumental in government and finance. They have served in our American armed forces from recruits to high level generals and admirals.
I have never seen a Jew burn an American flag.
I have never heard of a Jew cry out for his God while assaulting a woman.
Jews take their God seriously, and are respectful In prayer.
Jews are good pet owners. Many Jews own cats and/or dogs. Jews recognize dogs as one of God's gifts to all of us.
Jews endure a lot of hate and bullying, yet they stay strong.
I saw your other flowers sprout,
so bringing charm, I put down roots.
but hating me, you yanked me out.
You fool, I'll just bring more recruits!
In a subconscious state of mind
both real and unreal intertwine
and twist each others attributes
into dark Eidolon recruits.
These phantoms perform roles assigned
So well they trick the sleeping mind;
The scripts emerge from deep within
The brain where images begin
To shape and sound then orchestrate
Successive scenes the two conflate
Into involuntary schemes
The conscious human calls his dreams.
From sagging huts up in the hills,
We watched the tourists flash their bills.
They piled our harvest on their plates,
While soup and scraps were all we ate.
The flames lick up from garbage cans,
Burnt brown like every working man,
Who shouts or sings or mutters low
Of the calluses that come and go.
They toss in straw, more flames shoot up
To light the faces, hewn and rough,
that need a creed, some faith to hold;
to make their insides proud and bold.
Right then and there, I stand to speak.
I will not play the lamb so meek.
The time has come to take back ours
from the wealthy dogs with fat cigars.
First cans, then cars, we overturn.
Now the boulevard begins to burn..
The fools shoot back, forget the cost,
The naked rage must not be lost.
We win ourselves some new recruits,
Some young; some old; some simply brutes;
I do not care where they heard the call.
The revolution now will need them all.
Our cause will die if all stays calm,
So I send out Juan with sweaty palms.
He won't come back, farewell, my friend.
Your blood will flow for greater ends.
Worn out, weary, our morale grows thin.
The feeling grows that we can not win.
We need more guns than we can steal,
But we do have one crop we can deal.
The rifles have arrived now. Good!
Excited now, they crack the wood.
My loathing of red, white and blue,
is spreading like the jungle flu.
Their army scatters, their leaders flee.
We've brought the country to it's knees.
With the capitol dead in our sights,
We'll soon assert the people's rights.
The grainy film does not portray
That it was a picture perfect day.
My second stands there, smart and trim.
It might pay to keep an eye on him.
We march them out in single file.
No need to bother with a trial.
Their baggy shirts and peasant lies
Betray them all as filthy spies.
Yes, the people had decreed this so,
I speak for them so I should know.
Your crimes have brought you here to die.
The people speak through me. Goodbye!
Their bodies jump in crimson leaps,
then tumble down in tangled heaps.
Scarlet skulls and splintered chests,
They'll surely air this in the West.
Bulldoze the bones and spread the lime,
For we all are on the side of time.
And tonight, we gather in the square.
Their blood has paid my ruling fare.
In this new century of our Lord
The gardener planted the young tree
Placed in garden of Gethsemane
An olive to the knee
Around two thousand years have passed
A beaten path close by
Each word the Olive tucks away
Within its heart with sighs
When Jesus was just a small boy
He would come some to play
His tender hand caressed its limbs
Alluring light display
Twenty-one years passed swiftly by
When He came once again
Deep in prayer to His Father
Then said a soft Amen
Most times He came to the garden
He touched my bark and roots
Once He cried tears with sweat of blood
Not heard by His recruits
A crowd of soldiers came for Him
They lead Him fast away
Out of my presence departed
In my heart ever stay
Some rumors that they crucified Him
Twisted my trunk and heart
My heart longs for His tender touch
He'll come to not depart
The disciples in great fear came
Whispering in great shame
Their leader lies in the cold tomb
His name being defamed
On Sunday two women named Mary
By the olive tree came
Joyous excitement jubilation
Jesus lives~ proclaim
Rudeness at places of work is a terminal cancer
That reduces and kills productivity
Promoting the dancer
Who feels her rudeness proclivity
Resembles a godsend in her way of thinking
Equating its futility to putting in a full day’s shift without any proof
That rudeness despite its inkling and tinkering
Adds to long faces among colleagues whose home roof
Undergoes strain victims of rudeness export home where their rudeness
Hurts family members who in turn unleash
Their reverse rudeness to kill at home happiness
Inspiring butts of rudeness to dish
Out the taste of the rude message
To new victims enlarging the cycle by tit for tat
Until time passage
Widens the rudeness culture making it so fat
It recruits new rude members
Consolidating and spreading the rudeness epidemic
Insulating no one, hurting everyone to fan embers
That burn, burn, burn and burn so that rudeness no comic
Spares. Then, people wonder why so much rudeness flies about
Crashing good manners, killing decorum
Until a wisecracker reminds the person who in the first instance thought her rudeness clout
Despite a dose of rum
Contaminates and hurts more and more
Unless everybody makes it their business
To observe good manners and tenets of politeness in folklore
Then and only then can a rude-free society exist, pouring boundless happiness bereft of rudeness.
WHENCE WISDOM
Sins of youth, are not rare, I confess to many as mine
Include brazen claim we knew more than last generation
We may come to see our error with passing time
Or press on with obstinate determination
Demagogues have used this trend to push their intention
Seduced young with promised Utopian innovation
These are willing recruits to the myths of state ascension
Though communes brought hunger and death to many a nation
Let us observe to observe and learn from past history
Use experience and reason deciding which way we go
Grant to each their own diverse choices, allow them to be
That could be a greater gift that we might bestow
While at any age, we may merit such epithet
Subject: OLD should not precede ‘FOOL’ as the blind predicate
Who died are the Sulus
not the so called Moros
They were the recruits
Were killed when refused
Sabah were to invade
They refused to take orders
Sacrificed not to kill brothers
Jabidah Massacre bolted
Jabidah Peace Garden
the name should be penned
part of the history and genuine
not to distort its tale
Not supposed ourselves
Supposed not to hide it
The truth of the fate
Shall come to take the lead
It is nice to be recognized
An honor was made
But think of the truth
A sincere hearts we should
We cried, laughed and proud
From the Mindanao plain
from the valley mountains
and from the breeze of Sulu currents.
I love you peace. Let's sail together. Layag Sug!
Nature City. 22 March 2015. 11:20AM
Feminism,
Neo-Marxism,
Catastrophic cultural schism,
Rallying against the "patriarchy",
Waging social war by tweeting,
Against superficial enemies of the ideology,
Submission through guilt and gender supremacy power,
Cracking down the whip to make challenger's cower,
Upheaving the meritocratic system to rule in ivory towers,
A pathogenic social construct toppling modern liberty in Western society,
Collecting mugs of discontent using male tears to shower,
Ruining husband's lives then demanding child support dower,
Ostracizing traditional gender roles and wedding vowers,
Endless rhetoric regurgitated fueling the dichotomy,
Opposers pay sanctioned blood apology,
New recruits sacrifice liberty,
Hell-bound progressivism,
Neo-socialism,
Feminism.
Tic Toc I watch nonchalant
arms of the clock
Shift and rock
Grandfathers hands join-unlock
Conducting my living room symphonies
Horns and strings mingle in streams
Blending with screams
Torn from dreams
Nothing here's quite as it seems
Parading illusions own infantry
Unified steps for countless miles
Drum major smiles
All the while
Mr. Chaos with his wiles
Pounds balled fist to the ground and the world shakes
Soldiers black boots slip and fail
Legs become frail
march derails
From it's tracks and over the hill
Organized spectacle dropped by the quakes
Sister Order peaks through the clouds
Peeling the shroud
Eyes the crowd
Thunderous voice screams aloud
"AT ONCE I DEMAND TO SEE DISCIPLINE!"
Pick yourselves up and dust your boots
Stand tall recruits
Firm salutes
Rank- file assemble the troops
These logical patterns are systemic
Lines her pockets left over notes
Sly witty quotes
Inked and wrote
Folded origami boats
Set adrift on the Lyrical Ocean
Mr. Chaos from shadows sees
Bounds from the trees
Dives in sea
Swims to bottom- pulls plug free
Once calm waters now swirling commotion
Sister Order turns back around
Spectacle found
Scowls a frown
All was perfect- safe and sound
Til that trickster Chaos came and messed it
Removes her sandals- drives ahead
soles of feet tread
Dry sea bed
Picks up the plug-shakes her head
As she curses her brother- "THAT MISFIT!!!"
In this new century of our Lord
The gardener planted the young tree
Placed in garden of Gethsemane
An olive to the knee
Around two thousand years have passed
A beaten path close by
Each word the Olive tucks away
Within its heart with sighs
When Jesus was just a small boy
He would come some to play
His tender hand caressed its limbs
Alluring light display
Twenty-one years passed swiftly by
When He came once again
Deep in prayer to His Father
Then said a soft Amen
Most times He came to the garden
He touched my bark and roots
Once He cried tears with sweat of blood
Not heard by His recruits
A crowd of soldiers came for Him
They lead Him fast away
Out of my presence departed
In my heart ever stay
Some rumors that they crucified Him
Twisted my trunk and heart
My heart longs for His tender touch
He'll come to not depart
The disciples in great fear came
Whispering in great shame
Their leader lies in the cold tomb
His name being defamed
On Sunday morn the two Marys
By the olive tree came
Joyous excitement jubilation
Jesus lives~ proclaim
Written: April 01, 2015
A story written based on truth
With her ragged breath.
She said she missed the sun.
As she knew they would come.
She heard the screams from far away.
Knowing the goblins had their way.
Straw-colored hair hung to her shoulders.
Her bright green eyes blended with the forest.
She had her trusty goblin sword on her side.
It was a matter of honor to carry a sword at one's hip.
Though Brannis was the only knight who truly had one.
An "Enchanted" blade on the side of his hip, I mean.
He received the sword from his father long ago.
Upon receiving his knighthood at age fifteen.
Though his father was glad to be rid of the thing.
An heirloom from a family of sorcerers.
Who said, they had no need of it anymore?
It had always made his father uneasy to wield it.
When he first received it, with the serrated blades.
And, imprinted with the word " MASSACRE".
Though, I always thought it was a handsome piece.
With its handle carved into a fire-breathing dragon.
True, it was not often a female joined the ranks.
I felt the silent need to revenge my father's death.
That was the whole point of being out here in the goblin forest.
Alongside the other new recruits, I had to prove my worth.
I was told this was my test, a test of strength, as the king put it.
I had to prove myself, I always kept my father's shield next to my heart!
I was tired, though I knew I had to keep going to get out of this forest.
As I surely don't want to come home as a mangled warrior.
Or even worse, become dinner for the goblin king!
Fri. 6/07 / 2013 12:30 noon
A Dragon Squirrel Brigade
Dragon got home from the Army, wanting to be totally, in control.
He wanted to be a Drill Sergeant, to teach the recruits, to be bold.
He gave them all a blankie, and a binkie they could keep, I am told.
They’d throw a rock, and shoot in a blink, like the knight’s of old.
He’d practice the squirrels, now, waging a fight, in an old Hawk War.
A sling shot army, his name to fame, who could dare ask for more?
An army waiting, as they fly at our birds, yep, here’d come the corps.
The gumball tree is ready, yes, ammunition does abound, in galore!
Yep, they’re better than those darn possums, I say, sleeping in the day.
They’d Shoot, hanging upside down, slingshots and gumballs, into play.
Dragon marched them up and down, the trunk, and limbs, in the array.
They’d find the perfect spots, to shoot from, at their whim, in the foray.
Seems, they also learned to jump, into an amazing flying squirrel act.
The flying squirrel missed his target, got caught, in a boy’s hair, for a fact!
A kid then threw rocks at the troops, as the hawks were forgot, you think!
Unfortunately, they are squirrels, and some times, do some squirrelly things.
They closed the town down, with a hornet’s nest in every Road. That stings!
Nobody dared go down the streets, a curfew had been struck, in a blink.
Yep, at that moment, the Hawk decided to stealthfully, swoop in for a bird.
A gutter frog jumped on the hawk’s back, forcing him, to the ground, I heard.
At that, our first hero was made, as gutter frogs joined the squirrel brigade.
As the squirrel was removed from the boys’ hair, the barbershop became…
A place for squirrel nesting supplies, so the curfew was lifted, fast as it came.
A gutter frog offering this advice, became the new General, in this war game.
Squirrels, were tired of marching, and being yelled at by Dragon, that night.
They replaced him with the gutter frog, with less smoke and fire. Alright!
But Dragon’s work was done that day, as the troops were ready to fight.
Finally he was a Hero, for he had turned the tide… He was so very proud.
The moral to my story is:
The troops got a Drill Sergeant, but didn’t need him any more.
A General is enough to carry on, for a Generals’ planning is better…
Than a young Dragon’s power and fire… as, yes, Dragon went off to play.
Written by Carol Eastman 2-8-2015
TREES ARE OUR REAL FRIENDS
I like trees. They are patient friends. They
Don’t move suddenly away
From lifelong neighbours born here.
And don’t apply for jobs in California.
They stick with their peers all their life long
Have deep roots, preferably strong.
They welcome sun-weary people aching
And don’t complain if their fruit is taken
They truly must have patient belief :
To tolerate the cowardly yellow leaf
Which abandons them in the fall.
And then to cap it all
They must train a new set of green recruits
Each spring from the twigs to the roots.
And what’s more, they don’t condemn
Or kick at dogs peeing on them,
Don’t yell at kids carving their initial,
And they just look so sacrificial
If they are chopped down.
Let us have a lot more trees
And let it happen soon, oh please !
Standing straight in columns and ranks,
Heads newly shaved by the barber,
Carrying guns loaded with blanks:
New recruits after Pearl Harbor.
(Our foes wait in their well-defended lair,)
The Generals inspected troops,
(Imagining that they’ll stay safe and warm.)
Standing straight in columns and ranks;
Afterwards they broke into groups,
(All my soldiers ready their arms to bear.)
And marched towards the ships’ gangplanks.
(Bugles sound: Battalions! Companies! Form!)
They boarded ships with guns and tanks
To England, the Atlantic crossed.
(Our siege cannons thunder; smoke mists the air.)
Standing straight in columns and ranks,
(While thinking of barricades each must storm,)
They’d free Europe at any cost.
(Once over the walls, we’ll know what’s in store.)
Allied troops endured dire losses;
(It’s hard to see through misty fogs of war.)
Gaining a foothold up the banks.
Heroes sleep beneath the crosses
Standing straight in columns and ranks.
Columns and Ranks (Quatern 9-25-2014)
Fog of War (Ottava Rima 8-19-2014)
by Mark Halliday / WarriorPoet