Best Siege Poems
Tobruk Siege
Rommel of the Blitzkrieg
had Europe overcome
With the Stukas and dive bombing
And the Tanks that overrun
North Africka would see his tanks
il Duce’s troops were beat
Aussies took 20,000 Italians
At Tobruk in stinking heat
In Europe when his tanks arrived
The captured did surrender
The Poms escaped at Dunkirk
The English well remember
Morsehead an Aussie General
He baited the trap
Strategic mines, artillery, cooks
manned Italian guns , and ack ack.
Tobruk the Panzer tanks came in
The rats went down their holes (Desert Rats Aussie Diggers said Lord Haw Haw)
They rose behind the tanks
Wehrmact soldiers bullet holed
25 pounders fired at just point blank
with cooks and Pommy Armour
Were thinning German ranks
true blue these little charmers
So they blew the turrets off
16 of the best
Unbeaten until this point
A trace of fallen crest
8 long months they dished it out
Though Rommel tried again ……….(lost just as many tanks again)
He had to wait till the Aussies left
To take Tobruk from them
Don Johnson
70 years ago, the Afrika Korp would attack the 14,000 Aussies and Tommy Tank men, Also known as Rats.
The Tanks rolled into the perimeter, Aussies sprang from their holes and fought the German Soldiers behind the tanks, “We shut the gate behind them” the Aussies said.
This thorn in the side in Rommel ‘s mind allowed time for the massive replacement of
armour destroyed by Rommel, with American tanks. The siege held for 240 days in
what is now today’s , Gaddafi’s Lybria. These Aussies were used to living rough
sleeping on the ground
walking from town to town in the great depression, they were brought up on roo or pig shooting and the occasional rabbit.
Acoustic shadows haunted hills
and crawled within a sleepless cave
where peace was whispered in a wish
and silence was an endless prayer.
The sound of tears dripped in the wind
that carried din until it bled
the last of life from hungry lips,
the last of love from hopeless hearts...
Flap your wings and go ahead
Don’t give up & don’t turn back
I’ve gone with you, shown and led
This is for what I’ve been bred
Now it’s come & I shan’t lack
In mind, in wing, or in back
Ne’er been closer to my life been shed
Lyhgo-Hoyshu waits my come
But already I am numb
He sits high in his castle
We fly on, bright as pastel
It’s rising out of the mist
So high it cannot be missed
Ne’er been closer to my life been shed
I land at his wooden door
You land with me, with your friends
Above me, I see him soar
He strikes down and I have bled
Soon I know it’ll be the end
My claws flash out, sharp to rend
Ne’er been closer to my life been shed
As he dies I know my fault
I’d thought too fast, scared to halt
My chance was up, we were gone
I look at you, you my son
We both know what I have done
He was great and I had none
Now I know my life has been shed.
Today I'm learning the name
of war refugee camps,
in Congo, Rwanda, Palestine, Lebanon,
Turkey, Syria, Yemen, you name it,
and the children who play hide and seek
in charred automobiles, shivering in cold
and starvation behind the barb wires, thanking
the good Samaritans clothed in peace.
Today I'm signing Lennon's Imagine,
imagining those children swapping their places
even for a day, with your rich suburb kids
whose fathers profit from arms, to see them
recruited as child soldiers, putting their war game skills
to good use.
Today I'm laying siege to warmongers and their kins
who love peace and practice war, the true artisans of
hypocrisy.
Africa is raped. The continent of life is pumped dry, and the colonizer won’t stop, ’till he is stopped. And blocked.
We pay colonial tax for the baskets we have weaved. Our own weaved baskets. We remain cocooned to a mask, a philosopher who has seen Africa’s image in the advent of adversity, concludes; the children of black skins white masks -the despised and the despising. Living in the postcolonial but not yet decolonized.
In 1885 you were chopped and divided by colonial borders, by colonial masters. Your rivers of know knowledge were polluted but they never ceased flowing. Your rainmakers pleaded to the ancestors for rain that will cleanse the worst of the west. A philosopher has paused and whistled, oh, the wretched of the earth!
Now the wind of change is here-the new colonizer has already entered without even knocking, concluding without asking. He is already in a feast and taking to the east. But still the voices of your children are still daring and glaring, voices from within. Voices comparable to water about to evaporate to a desert, in image and symbol. Neatly done, they look like a weaved basket, or sometimes like a weaver bird that does not tire. Yet in rage and singing repeatedly an unending chorus of a dull song. They sing for you the land of fallen heroes, they cannot cease flowing. The river runs along the line of least resistance.
The image of the new colonizer rejects your poets and griots when they cough syllables of tradition, when they plant a seed that should incite no fear for the dead. Africa is under siege, predated by vultures and dining with a fork and knife, and chop sticks. We are silenced and crippled and ridiculed. All of a sudden her tales are beliefs are witchcraft, her decisions are validated. Her dream is differed. From the abundance of her production, her labor, she receives only a grain of wheat, or nothing.
On Attack: A Rainbow Six Siege Poem
By: Jacob Wallihan
Time to prepare
The drones are on the field
Rolling right towards
The building called “Coastline”
Callouts for the position of the bomb
Not Kitchen
Not Bar
Not Billiards
It’s Penthouse
Spotted the enemies
2 Roamers
Caveira and Ela
3 Anchors
Pulse, Mira, Rook
All spotted picking up
Rook’s Armour
Drone’s all shot
Pick the spawns
Pool is mine
Let’s Go
Spawn in
3 minutes on the clock
A 5 man squad
Montagne with Blackbeard
The hard breachers;
Hibana
Thermite
For Intel: Lion
Enter the building Hibana
Through VIP window
Frag the Ela
5 v 4
Montagne
With defuser
Walks into Guitar
In doorway to Penthouse
Blackbeard watching Monty
Sees the Rook
Reacts late
4v4
Hibana places a claymore
VIP hallway
Runs back to window and vaults
Lion activated “Big Brother”
Hibana rushes past Monty
Lion
With grace
Bounds through bathroom hatch
With Hibana
Picks off Rook and Mira
4v2
Monty smokes
Goes for the plant
C4 below
Sends Monty out the window
3v2
Defuser down
Thanks to Lion
Pulse
Activating the claymore
Flies into the courtyard
3v1
Caviera
Running quietly into theatre
Downs Lion and Hibana
Throws a hail mary
Monty doesn’t react in time
Cav gets the defuser
Over the coms
“OPFOR disabled our defuser”
“Mission a failure”
Down in the south east of Ukraine they call the Donbas region
Is where the Russians were kept at bay by the Azoz battalion
For three long months in Mariupol, they put up one hell of a fight
Against air raids, constant bombardment and military might.
Many were severely injured in battle, but they never gave in
In an act of sheer defiance to the Russian's and Vladimar Putin
It's stalled Russian advance, in their so called special operation
And to war criminal Vladimar Putin, it caused much frustration
His murdering scum army were much needed elsewhere
But strong Ukrainian resistance were keeping them there
The Ukrainian high command knew they wouldn't survive
President Zelensky was heard to say "we need heroes alive".
Orders were given for them to stand down, so they surrendered
The siege will live on in folklore, and will always be remembered
The Russian military has now taken the soldiers, to a prison colony
Where they'll be charged with terrorism and never be set free.
Russians from the steelworks siege, are now being sent to the front
Trying to cut off Ukrainians in the east, who are bearing the brunt
The west must now go all out to deliver the weapons they need
To help push back the aggressors and make sure they succeed.
Their heroic stand bought time for Ukraine, to replenish supplies
Like heavy weapons from the west that caught Russia by surprise
Russia's only real advantage, is the sheer volume of personnel
So small groups of brave Ukrainian guerrillas, are giving them hell.
Hit and run raids by special forces are being carried out with success
Zelensky has nothing but praise for his soldiers, in his nightly address
Land seized by Russia will never have peace, the Ukrainians have said
To concede land to the brutal invaders, would be an insult to the dead.
Ukraine wants to send soldiers bodies back to their families
Russia has refused them, because the truth, the people would see
And Vladimir Putin doesn't want his people to see him as a liar
So he's quite happy to ignore it as his death toll grows higher.
written on 26th may 2022
Simple neighbour but a potential predator
Images of a bad X-ray seen through hospitable beings
Every smile is perceived mischievous
Growing bad impression on constant good gestures
Evolving friendship nurtured by perceptions and preconceived ideas
Men in simple clothing but gangs in weary eyes
Entry and exit, emotionally been monitored
Neighbourhood so fine, painted red in the mind
Too trouble sensitive, leading to mental slavery
All pressurizing the unnecessary need for an extra guard
Living with dilated eyes and muscled limbs
In an environment preserved in tranquility
Takes the mind to a world of self torture, as it
Yields to the unfortunate fear of non-existent enemies.
Prussia and the other states are moving like a juggernaut.
Each day, our forces are falling to the onslaught.
The German states and cities are united as one.
We have been no match for them since the fighting had begun.
We have all pledged our allegiance to our Emperor Napoleon.
However, in the early battles, our forces became undone.
Here we are in September of 1870.
Uneasiness in Europe has resulted in hostility.
It seems Europe’s biggest bullies had to fight it out.
The attack on Worth has resulted in a rout.
The Prussians are moving south, and we are next to fight.
Strasbourg’s defenses have been bombarded day and night.
Just across the Rhine River, we see their fortifications.
The civilians have been evacuated by Swiss delegations.
We have been ordered to defend to the last man.
However, our Emperor has been captured at Sedan.
This indicates that there is no relief in sight.
General Ulrich has ordered we make our stand and fight.
The Bishop of Strasbourg has pleaded to no avail.
It is only a matter of time before our defenses fail.
The Hydralisks are assembling just out of range,
Supported by Roaches, Infestors, Banelings,…
The Mutalisks are hovering beyond our turrets,
Brutalisks are moving—it’s looking quite desperate.
There’s a silver lining for each “end of the world”:
My shift’s almost done and my Siege Tank’s been rebuilt.
I could spend my last hours paralyzed in fright;
But no, got a date with that cute medic tonight.
I took several stim-packs off a dead Marine,
And I’ll take a few jolts if she gives me the green.
So all those Zerg monsters better stay out of sight…
Better not mess with me and my Medic tonight.
We’re all out of minerals, we’re out of Vespene.
We’ve made our last Marauders and our last Viking.
But if Ghosts and Banshees can hit the Zerg just right,
I might still be around for my Medic tonight.
Chorus) Got a date with that blue-eyed young medic tonight.
You know, the one that I’ve had for months in my sights.
If my Siege Tank’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.
Got a date with that pretty sweet medic tonight.
While extremists and all
Are laying siege on Kenya
ICC is laying another siege
Of its own on the country
What siege are they laying
For the Al Shabaab?
For Assad’s regime?
I wonder! Aloud!
While the free world
Is talking peace
With Syria and Iran
Where despicable
Unspeakable acts
Are all but rampant
They are talking war
With peaceful Kenya
Already at the throws
Of merciless Al Shabaab!
Of what use are condolences
From those who seek to rekindle
Yesterday’s atrocious bonfires
With disproportionate vigour?
I heard the thunderous applause
I saw the ambassadorial smiles
I saw the presidential grins
And I saw the skepticism!
And I wished for a moment
And I prayed for a moment
That the new dawn of hope
Would spread wide its wings
To encompass my gallant country
And spare the children of Kenya
The trauma and pain and loss
And let the healing continue!
For on the face of retribution
Lies not the ultimate answer
And at the hands of a hangman
Lies not bankable justice per se!
But perhaps the men and women
Who make an annual pilgrimage
To the skyscrapers of New York
Are immune to such notions!
As the last twinkle
In the brown eyes of Jesus
Faded to heaven
The morning star left Jesus
Darkness covered all
The sun of the archons set
The binding veil torn
Those ones in the sleep of death
Were awakened hence
For the sun of Christ rose up
Envy and dumbness
Were left in the empty tombs
Now they are children
Of the sweet infinite light
Of the sweet white lamb
Though the cup of bitterness
Was always given
To the sons of shining light
By Jerusalem
Yaldabaoth and his archons
In the pride of night
Refused to admit the truth
That they killed Jesus
Allowing Christ to succeed
Which destined their fall
Jews did not deserve their wrath
A wrathful sentence
From the sword of Yaldabaoth
With no foreign aid
The city was encircled
By an iron ring
Cutting them off from the world
Leaving the ash wolf
To burn in their sliced stomachs
The ash to the ash
Men ate the ash of their young
The dust to the dust
Young at the dust of the old
But both lost their soul
The city burned in fury
Turning all to ash
The temple of gold and white
Glory of Saklas
Met flames of orange and red
From his blind fury
Three towers of soot gazed down
At those ones enslaved
At Hades's consuming flames
And stood with the sky
As a last testimony
Of heaven's glory
By the order of Titus
The glorious gold
Of the second day's temple
Was ripped out proudly
By the gold feathered eagle
With a purple tongue
The temple's gold was taken
To his cage named Rome
Hundreds of thousands of Jews
And many Gentiles
Of innocents lost their breathe
Jews were crucified
Nailed by Yaldabaoth's anger
And nailed on despair
To mock the nailed lamb of white
The eagle of gold
Was too useful for Saklas
To tear apart yet
For he hunted and slaughterd
Sheep of shining light
In bunches of dripping red
With his claws of white
But this wrath tore the red veil
From the third temple
Veil of Mosaic patterns
Was torn from Christ's Bride
Showing her face of beauty
Showing her soft lips
Skin glittered with gold and white
And eyes of twinkling gnosis
Here I stand
in this arena of lost souls
My feet forced me here
My breath fails me
I smell dry tears
Soon,i'll be drunk from it
Tragedy has been here
Pain,a visitor this august
a stranger turned owner
Disaster's home lies here
Family of sorrow,you birthed
its agony fills a book
this houshold despairs
Doom thrives here
Behold the coming of the infidel
with his tanks and brigades in battledress,
where once barbarians on horseback fell
new destroyers hide new sin unconfessed.
Now Serb boots march where invaders have trod
on Muslim Srebrenica in blood thirst,
but where, O tell, is their merciful God
when the lords of genocide do their worst?
Will mortar shells discern installation
from infant flesh in the stone cobbled street?
Might enemy siege end in salvation
where ancient homeland and battlefield meet?
Or will more die in the cold snow and mud
when raised are partisan flags stained in blood?
Written: April 1993
Wrote this during the last terrible conflict
in Europe during the Siege of Srebrenica
almost 30 years ago. It seems not much
has changed. Back then it was Serbs and
now it’s Russians. History always repeats.
Cold wind northern, swept atop black waters
Twilight fog unto dim
Massive ships move through silence
Land upon on a harbor
Thirty thousand Vikings, Danish and Norwegian
Move onto mass and in
Legions forward march heed the death toll drum
Amidst the blackening night ever thrust cumbersome
Drowning out alliances God and Devil made
As these breath prayers into nothingness escape
Brandishing swords white knuckle blades
Higher and higher
As we smell the blood of enemies
The warriors futher on passed fear and accolades
Moods are somber; hearts in chest now begin to grow in size
As the towering fortress of the hated foe
A silhouette in blackness through the mist doth rise
Hoping beyond a measure of nexus to well laid traps
Be unto element of the surprise
As a Norse and Dane grinning ear to ear, waiting behind our toothless gaps
Parched lips a drool run over fond thoughts of valor
Ready to the first round of weaponry
As scarlet arrows flaming, arch whizzing through the stillness to shatter
Vociferous bellows aloud of war beget into charging
As colossal, ripping arms are heaving,cross one hand then another
To catapults a ready, mammoth stones sent true hurling unto flying
Impact then a crashing!! Gates of timbers cracking into splitting
Exposes the raging blazes amid
Of infernos from invading arrows landing
To the thrusting would be victims one by one bulging eyes of red duly over glaze
The brunt! The breach!
With war hammer, axe and battle mace
The sweetness of victory are the tears of blood we taste
Attack the heart, victors within, the castle walls we have reached
The Siege to spoils, a smorgasbord of feasts, feeds the hunger of the men
The raging Nordic beasts!