Best Warred Poems
The snow fell on bloody ground
turning the white to red, eating the silent
flakes till they disappeared into red dust.
The hand lay still...hopelessly bound
in death. Warm red snow was not meant
to melt and cover white life with lust.
No breath melted the blanket of white
dancing playfully on the mother's son
who lay coldly quiet 'neath nature's cover.
He had wanted to stay...not feel the splice
of war...taking him beyond the red sun
atop the earth where the hawks hover.
Uncle Sam's Hokey Pokey
_______________________
l l l l l
ya' put your red flag in
ya'
put your red flag out
ya'
put your red flag in
and ya'
shake it all around.
* * *
ya' stop this hocus pocus
and we'll turn this thing around
end war's what it's all about!
Through Flanders fields old ghosts cry and weep
Through the petals of blood red poppies
Even the soaring birds mute their mournful cry
In deference to souls sacrificed in vain
The end of all wars was a prize worth dying for
Those that lie here never knew the truth
Blood that spewed from their shattered bodies
Never quenched the flames of awful war
Now they wave to a world that has forgotten them
From a bright red carpet in Sanctuary wood
Singing unheard songs of never reachable peace
In tongues varied but understandable to all
It’s happening again.
Red-hot Guerrillas breaching my porcelain surface,
Angry little bombs exploding, leaving
my land a red war zone,
And I can’t find Concealer,
who has gone A.W.O.L, deserted its place in line,
after Foundation, before Powder.
I send Hands to search the recesses of my desk,
the scattered costumes on my floor.
Their time bombs tick
And I need Concealer for this daily battle.
After the red formations attack my foundations,
they battle against Powder,
forcing my team back to expose my land;
blemished, riddled with unwanted lumps.
A wasteland uncovered,
and Concealer my only defence able to
hide the scars, the age, this weakness.
I send on the second wave;
Foundations, Powder, Mascara – all charades to
distract the public from my flaws.
Reluctantly I slither out into their gaze,
Exposed,
praying my cover hides what the
snarling, ruthless army
strives to conquer: to
Unmask what I truly am.
Underneath blood red sky there was an unforgettable fire,
burning away hopes and dreams into a blaze of smouldering ash.
Unheard screams with surprised attacks stabbed in the back
by enemy hands drawing guns and blowing up homes taking land,
with prisoners of war stuck in cells of hellish confinement.
Black clouds loom overhead with many soldiers dead,
many families severed with broken limbs and aching hearts
crying over the loss of their loved ones.
Weeping in sorrow not thinking about tomorrow with memories
lingering beneath the blood red sky.
Form:
A dot crept
Tarnishing a blue sky.
A red ball, a period, paused in small hands.
Something twinkled in the sky—falling.
An eye closed and a thumb raised:
Smearing it, mocking it.
A thousand gossamer threads trailed it.
And Atropos—sublime, dreadful
Was patient at her platform
blades, hungry, dull from work
Then: white, a silent white, a sheer white
Flash, a Fatman burst
Hell: bodies packaged in flames,
Worn are sagging suits that peel
Cord flesh hangs sight dangles
Muddied sky, red pulse
God?
Knitting the air, screams throb
Weave a blanket obscene
Rain. Warm droplets explode
Stain, black, skin. Rain.
Divine
Intervention-less pit charred city flavorless
Gather in tight little herds
Sore carapace fester, abandoned eyes
A peer here,there, glimpse glint
Something scuttles across window—soul?
Click, click. Hand tremble snap moment:
Lonely wall fragment black relief
Children moan for release.
God?
Through the telescope
We view the planet Mars
Explosions aplenty
Leaving planetary scars
Two nights pass
As comets appear
All over the world
Do we panic or fear
The very next morning
Cylinders are found
Metallic and shiny
Making a humming sound
An unscrewing grind
These cylinders emit
As the public witness
In staring commit
Slowly rises
A staring eye
Emerald green
Us it spies
As we approach
It climbs so high
Staring back at us
In a shrill like cry
Oooolaa is heard
Many times
As we stand back and watch
In it's perfect rhyme
We approach again
As it's emerald eye lights
A ray is released
We all start to take flight
Over the common we run
As fast as we can
With laser traces
Extinguishing man
Days pass
As more cylinders land
But these newly fallen
Are bigger and grand
In tripod stance
They roam our lands
Lasers in rampant
As our armies stand
What weapons we have
Are vapourised to dust
As a red weed engulfs
In a thickly disgust
Beaten and trodden
Against these machines
Will the spirit of man
Endure this hell Halloween
We who are left
Are driven underground
To escape their lasers
And their oooolaa sound
Many weeks pass
As our cities are scarred
But the blooming red mass
Is blackening tarred
Tripods are toppling
In crying moan
Their sound as they fire
Is in deathly groan
Metallic corpses
Of cylinder shape
Lie dented and spent
On broken buildings they drape
Weeks into months
As the scientists learn
These martians from Mars
In our atmosphere turn
Their alien form
Unknown to them
Would never compete
With the life of men
Our oxygen climate
Pure and clean
Was a perfect match
For these cylindrical machines
We will remember these days
This world, our home
As we look to the skies
Knowing we are not alone
Inspired by " The War of the Worlds " movies.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-6.php
"A Terrorist Act On Friday the 13th"
(a true story! and no one to tell!)
2 pm Friday the 13th
a red demon was parked at
the "Castle of State Farm" by a bus stop
the bald headed red demon, was stalking a unsuspecting
41yr old unprotected woman...
with one deep breath the red demon
let out his toxic breath ...
and blood came for the back of my throat
along with lung tissue that foamed into clear bubbles
draining out of my mouth and nose
try to bring air, back into my lungs
only brought tears and pain
vomit but with out food just lung matter
not a doctor so i don't understand why my food didn't come up
just breathing only broth from my lungs
i coughed all night long, with my throat burning
i thought this was the end...
i will die...
a poet who no one pays any attention to will be
RED-RUM for poems no one even reads~
but will the true story be told someday...
who is pulling my strings...
to hide there true face...
aka:lyricvixen
P.s.
respect
"Because When You Have No Life, Your Just A Survivor..."
Form:
"Drunk On Red rum"
why must it be this way
why must they do the things you do
why must there be so much hurt and pain
turned out in to the cold
bruised by hard unthinking deeds
i think its just for the money
so I fight a battle
I can not win
and fall victim to the ones
who drink there fill
and become
drunk on red rum~
by:lyricvixen
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Drunk On Red rum 2"
must it be this way
dead rotten and so cold
must the things you do
eat at the my soul and consume
must there be so much
laughter mix with pain
blood turned to forgotten dust
and blacken bruise
become harden
as to the liken of old memories
spread by drunken deeds
it is the greed of many men
that Angels and demons
fight a battle to win
and many fall to be the victims
who share no sin
and still the unclean
they drink there fill
and become
drunk on red rum~
by:lyricvixen
Form:
little boy blue
out stirring the coop
out in the woods
allergic to something
this one thing
little red never knew
chicken soup
tell me shes just sick
get me the hunter
little boy blue
the cheaptrick to outsmart the wolf
the wolf is just another sheep
dejavous to have this dance
side step the hay fever
and little boy blue will play a tune for you
deja vous have we not been here before
howling together at this moon
little bit of red rum for grandma
and we will be back at square one
thinking we will bark at the moon
just deja vous
so cute to see you in that bonnet
brown eye red dog
smacking those lips
little bit of red rum for grandma
the dog know what we are saying
slide six and lets scope it out
little boy blue play us a tune
and we will howl at the moon one last time
like a deja vous
while red gets the soup for grandma
grandma has hey fever
just leave a trail of crumbs
so we can track our steps
take it down from the past
step by step
childhood horrors all we have left
something to say of the chimney sweep
with a hundred ways to die
all i can do to save the wolf
hungry enough to eat you
but with enough food in my hand to keep it at bay