Best Warfare Poems
Sometimes, we expect
the sun to rise and smile,
through hazy hellish clouds
carrying vindictive
verdicts of venomous vultures,
surmising hues of
ink to pierce through
pores of this bleeding pen,
imagining rainbows
will unravel colors,
in violent violets and
intricate indigo streaks,
refusing to walk around
streets with
hailing stones of storms.
But what if the skies
unfold mysteries of yesterday,
would tales of truth need
translated transcripts?
oblivious to the weight
of every thorn I sustain
within these words I weave.
Whilst daggers
on my spine
still remain rusted with
runes of revelations,
as I’ve felt claws sharper
than twisted tongues,
so those feculent fingers
pointing at abstracts
across fields of
fruitful flowers,
adorned with
smokey quartz
jewels of life,
is nothing but
mere artless blades,
that burn bridges
from blunt blindness.
Let the bare brokenness
of your rags be
the conqueror of your
own demise,
I’ve seen too many
ghosts turn into
steel hearted devils with
tasteless plans.
Yet these cracks
won’t grow wider
from misconstrued
conclusions,
from barely noticeable
turbulence within a
psychological warfare.
I am more than your
definition of sharpened
needles and knives,
as I’ve been nurtured
in fearless forests with
herds of faceless wolves,
this warrior spirit
is unmovable,
by a million mountains
engraved with
lifeless blood and
bones of your kind,
so take your little
quilt of cowardly questions,
wrap them around your
fragile little ego,
perhaps, sleep too
can reveal
rosier dreams
in your doomed
nights filled with terrors,
for I refuse to
drink from chalices
of emptiness
concocted from
bitter ingredients.
I left my home, the world to roam
it’s been now twelve years gone.
From a boy to a man
was a dreadful short span,
as I journeyed to valleys beyond.
Now the king, he has spoken
and battle has broken,
I’m wise to the ways of the world.
Long on the sword,
as we seek our reward,
to see our flag unfurled…
Sailed by starry dark of night,
our longships cross the sea.
Where a hundred headless horsemen
guard the gates of Galilee.
Each dawn’s a daily dance of death,
through battle smoke like dragon’s breath.
With echo axe to armor chink,
each onslaught we rebuffed.
You can invite the devil for a drink
…if you think you’re man enough.
Heavy’s the head that wears the crown,
when the blood of brothers’ beckons.
Weak is the sword, as it lies on the ground.
If there’s a will, there’s a way,
there are weapons.
But once the battle has ended
and our journeys’ been made,
there’ll be air in my lungs,
and blood on my blade.
As was foretold, our flag was unrolled
in the past… now once again!
Vikings prevail, each time we sail,
in the age of wooden ships
… and iron men.
Copyright © 2018
Shield Maiden
I have dreamed of the battle;
And truly I have heard,
The ring of sword upon sword;
And tasted blood between my teeth.
I have met the enemy head on;
And vanquished him.
But not before his blows;
Knocked me time and time again, to my knees.
I have defended hearth and home;
And babies dear, from large demon invaders,
Blasting at my door.
Fearsome foes, not of this world.
I have met them on the field with battle cry;
I ran toward the fray.
I have sailed upon a long-ship bold;
To fight them in their own land.
But now my arm grows weary as I hold my sword.
The place is empty where my human strength resides.
My wound is deep, my tunic stained with my own blood.
The song of battle fades to just a whisper in the wind.
It is not Odin or Valhalla that I seek;
It is another place where all good warriors go;
Where one may breathe the sacred air of peace;
And rest forever with Jehovah God.
We war not against flesh and blood of man you see,
but In the spirit is where our battles are mean't to be.
For when we battle against flesh and blood of mankind,
deeper in troubles and sorrows ourselves shall we find.
When we take it in the spirit to fight,
then we will stand in Gods Glorious Light!
For this warfare is with darkness and his own,
warring in the flesh, God does not condone!
For the spirits that once drove us to do as we did,
has now gone into others and in them hid!
It's not the person, it's the spirit that's in them you see,
coming against flesh and blood, there will be no victory.
This spiritual warfare can not be seen with the human eye,
it is led by Jesus in the Holy-Spirit through you and I.
Warfare means to battle, it doesn't mean just pray,
but you must fight in the spirit this did Jesus say.
Put on the whole Armor of God that ye may be able to stand,
standing against darkness with the Word of God, for its our sword in hand.
For when you war against flesh and blood it shall only tear you down,
then we are in sin, not having on Christ's Wedding Gown!
For God said not to war against mankind,
when you do, your own victories you will bind!
For the only way to defeat darkness is in the spirit you see,
warring in the spirit will bring you your Victory!
If you want victory in your life- then take your battles in the spirit,
put on Gods Armor, speak out His word, in Faith, the darkness will hear it.
Then shall you defeat the true enemy, and not tear down flesh and blood,
then shall your victories start pouring in like a flood!
In this psychological warfare,
where the fate of Romeo and Juliet
has not discouraged lovers
I was warned,
"tread carefully, only move forward if you are prepared
to battle against satanic adversaries not seen before."
But I'm a veteran with an amputated heart,
as my lion nature roars at 'tug-of-war' conflicts
and she keeps pulling at my heart strings.
Welcome to the circus of darkness,
where spirits rest in a silent surrender.
In my phantom kingdom
the queen of hearts is an outcast
upon an isolated island of misery.
Her life is a concoction of paparazzi and propaganda,
where serpents manipulate her innocent dreams.
In the illusion of separation,
an internal choir sings a siren's symphony of sorrow,
echoing through oceans and mountains between us.
In this haze of hopelessness I hope to be found,
but we are cursed with different shades of love,
where tears are melodramatic melancholy,
bleeding in black rivers of perpetual pain -
but her savage beauty is my favourite kind of madness.
In the unfairness of circumstance's wicked ways,
the Grim Reaper has auctioned my soul for sale.
I search for anonymous angels among us,
but in the graveyard of blasphemous bliss,
tattoo tears create crimson cracks on broken statues.
My immortal emotions drift like butterfly breaths,
imitating a bare brokenness of rags buried in paper coffins.
Before the euthanasia of time will you return that stolen kiss?
Gift me a kinder reflection from self entitled mirrored salutes?
It all started with a poem rebuilding a sanctuary.
in my poetic secret garden of confessions.
When my metaphors stole the moon for you,
fate had my heart held hostage to your infatuation.
Not everyone can see with open eyes,
but in the empathy of distant entanglement,
love untangled the tips of your tangled heartstrings,
then burnt them in ashes of enkindled embers.
Now that I've overcome your obscured boundaries of sanity,
placing lanterns upon midnight trails you follow,
I've defeated every malignant spirit.
Before words become tired and meaningless,
will you comprehend the innocence of my insanity -
forever love me where it hurts?
A sad state our government has become today
in this awful news that just pushes the boat out further
As our democracy for one protecting our children
Why it is even under attack beats me up inside moral grounds
this should not even be considered under the harshest circumstances
because it's a humane act to love our little ones bless them with life
not kill them shows savages craving suffering judgemental fools
Tells me all that I need to know about corrupt politics
under an non democratically elected leadership
Fighting the demons
no one sees
only you feel it
eating away at your skin
crawling in your veins
where your blood use to reign
supreme
the tingling you feel
is it just your imagination?
I can see it in your eyes
you are no longer who you were
they have taken over
possessed every inch of you
try and fight the madness
that’s not part of you
No one will believe
you just gave up without a fight
don’t let them steal your last breath
©220720121025
Courageous men and women wear scrubs,
masks, white gloves, and black net caps.
They, too, eat their meals from plastic tubs,
what's left over from supper scraps?
At night, their bones begin to break down.
In the outpatient and hospitalized wards.
On the other side of the earth, in clinics around.
across the middle of the COVID swords.
Do not remove pricey clothes or freeze.
Their newly cleaned blues made for a breeze.
They have what they need to get the job done.
If you firmly grab your hand with a striped tone,
Unfortunately, it was the start of a new day.
while fresh, sickening showers beat cruelly away.
There is not always rain
Along with the thunder
There is not always bite
Along with the bark
There is not always oxygen
When we go under
Not always a devil
Along with the dark
But we can always count on,
Along with the sorrow,
Laughter and joy joining this life
We can always count on,
Along with the blood shed,
Somewhere, a sharp wicked knife
We can always count on
These weapons of warfare
Harmless until held in our hands
We can always count on
Having our fair share
The wicked intent of mortal man
There will be a rainbow
Along with the thunder
Along with the lightning
The still waters of night
There will be such beauty
After all blows asunder
Along with the blindness
A great, glorious sight
Spiritual warfare
Is not always out there
At times it’s within our sphere
He sits on the throne with an open ear
Waiting for you to meet him there
Spiritual warfare
Some may fear
Seek ye His face
Be blessed with His loving care
Believe in his love…none can compare
Meditate on His words
Develop wisdom in His kingdom
Cleanse the soul, thus—
Making one whole
He fills the least with untold gold
Ten thousand angels
Lifting one by the hands
Always believe in His plans
Spiritual warfare
Against God’s saints
Shall not stand!
Random moments drip liquid chronicles through my mind. In still moments, there are quiet images, bold and brilliant, baking their shadows into my dreams. I’m in a sea of brokenness, feeding on sins I once lived with, branded by burdens I can’t speak of. Illusions whisper dark and dismal songs that shame and disgrace, humiliating me so that I can’t see the hope for the hopelessness as it bleeds its negativity into my dreams, haunting me and depressing the waters of faith that wants me to believe, just believe. While the soundless waters wash over me, cleansing me of the light that longs to penetrate my needs, embrace me with its magnificence, create in me – assurance that this too shall pass. Yes. Nothing this broken will last. The rocky seas will return to their soothing, healing, blessing. Time will encourage me to see past the past where I was once so empty of reason and remind me to see into the present where Jesus is slowly erasing every trace of the blackness that tries to darken my mind with a self-destructive imagination.
reflections of grace,
bonds are broken, doors opened,
by His warm embrace
The slickness of a blade
pressing against a throat....
the cold steel meeting tender flesh
blood drips and a body tumbles
the taste.... the sight... the sound....
all quite euphoric.....
Ripped clothes, smashed items,
echo screams, and the raging fires that glow throughout the night
The beauty.... the savagery.... the destruction
all quite euphoric....
On an afternoon, rather dull and dreary
When things seemed quite tryingly weary
All of a sudden erupted a flurry
(Possibly the result of a flavoured curry?)
As a rather pungent aroma did diffuse
Speedily into the air, that it did abuse
With a violence so strong, so full of punch
That I pondered on the after-effects of lunch
From this terrible fury, did people take cover
That their lungs did slowly recover
From a biological weapon’s gaseous assault
That I wondered who could have been at fault
For this sudden burst of chemical warfare
That only the most brave could stoically bear
A weapon made of such volatile matter
That it could, such hardened forces, scatter.
The culprit, as yet, has not been found
Moving with stealth, making no sound
Still, on the ready, to simply explode
With the most pungent weapon its armoury can hold.
These walls conceal an ugly war
Kitty litter raids my floor
This tidy home I'm sworn to keep
A rugged broom's a tiresome sweep
Three cats are such a chore
They say the eyes are the gateway to your soul
Revealing the dark side of my inner man
Constant contrast deep inside of me
I’m ready to release the beast
This world is not big enough to contain my presence
My energy is drained when people want to claim to understand my lonely walk in this so-
called life I live
Control is what they truly want to own
Enslaving the very essence, beauty, creativity that they were drawn to in the beginning
I’ll revert back to my ancestors and start a revolution on them
Denying them of the pleasure to capture my spirit
I arm myself with my automatic weapon, grenades and my shield
Reciting my mantra “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no
evil”
Ears ringing, my heart singing my precursors song “way in the water”
Bullets are tearing my enemies in half
Mutilated bodies are multiplying
Afraid of turning around to count my glorious victory
My arms are heavy
Broken glass shattered around
I hear a familiar voice crying
It is me my inner man