Vultures
They circle the sky.
Waiting patiently for something to die.
Back roads collect roadkill
They see far away over the hill
Flying creatures from above.
A fascinating bird brown in mud.
Vultures circling in the air.
Where the corpse is, they will gather.
A final plague is in place.
No fear face to face.
To the brink of death.
Wandering around just waiting overhead.
To them everywhere is a graveyard.
Beautiful food is not too far.
Buzzards wait their turn in line.
They stare down the dead on a metal sign.
Feed off the dead.
What a creepy job they have.
They will eat the corpse to the bone.
Their eyes are red resting next to a tombstone.
Our Many Military Memories
Many military memories were made,
And into past, none of them will fade,
Lasting forever which was day by day;
Even after they have passed away.
Things occurred each year after year,
In an awesome, mighty military career;
Helicopter blades did swirl and swirl
That would make all of our hair curl.
Bodies on battlefield badly bleeding;
Others an entire platoon were leading;
Soldier was a clerk typing up an order;
We were here at home being supporter.
Soldiers and sailors soon sailed out to sea;
In newspapers and books had made history;
Coast appeared with shells and soft sand
On a lonely beach head did have to land.
We would see headstones of dead on a Field,
Said prayers at church service as we kneeled;
We will fervently worship each and everyone;
Thank God for the things that He has done.
James Thomas Horn
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Retired Veteran
A lot of us are not great risers
many a morning we hate that alarm
wish we could throw it out the window
but there was one with a mighty arm
Think on Jesus living 2000 years ago
imagine you're a disciple following Him there
then He was crucified dead on a cross
you are distraught thinking it's not fair
Then three days later news got through
the tomb was open but Jesus was gone
you couldn't take it in He had risen
Peter and John had been there at dawn
Amazing this! the Messiah came to life
yes it was true Jesus defeated death
showing His deity as the great riser
as God's son, truth He always saith
(As I was thinking on our great redeemer and the phrase ' He is not here, he has risen', I have written this putting ourselves as a disciple of Jesus in these dramatic days.)
Bought advance tickets for The Nutcracker
About two and a half months ago
How was I to know on November 29th
We'd get dumped on with a big bunch of snow
The weather gods have conspired against me
Coz before and after that day
Temperatures been so incredibly warm
Much like the merry month of May
Must have upset those guys back when
If so I do hereby apologize
Sure felt their wrath, spent three long hours
With fire shooting out of my eyes
Next time won't buy tickets ahead of time
I'll buy them on the day of the event
And take my chances that it's not a sellout
So my time is much better spent
Is my frustration showing as I write this poem?
So ticked off, what more can I say
Don't want ever to spend that much time again
Stopped dead on a freaking highway
© Jack Ellison 2012
even vultures will not devour the proffered
war time victims, ruined was the impression
of untitled sacrifice, a wild anemone
slips into the river of blood, I tend to forget
the faces of embers –
arson by apostles of peace, it has become a commodity,
oppression releases a promise for optic illusion
through large-prints
a near miss when the truth chokes to death,
suicidal full of nerves-
the hills tremble in anticipation, lambs
were dropping dead on a green patch
such obligation
SATISH VERMA
Sick of crying
tired of trying
ya im smiling
but inside im dying
trapped in a world thats impossible to excape
im dying more everyday
with ever breath i take
you think that if i smile im happy
but thats not even true
im only pretending and living a lie
just to satisfy you
i just dont understand how you
could cause me this pain and still have no clue
because in my eyes the only thing thats killing me is you
while im living a lie that revolvs around you
im accomplishing your dreams that never came true
all these years ive had to hide
mabe thats why im so dead inside
so when you see me hanging dead on a rope
youll run out of thoughts like i ran out of hope
-Spencer Coggsdale dedidcated to my parents
When man tells God’s lies
he lies to himself,
because God never lies.
Religion, the righteous of man,
is self-inflicted,
but all deeds are seen by the all-seeing eyes.
Despise the fools,
but love their God.
Let contrite hearts bow,
and be subjected to the rules.
Tell me, who is the fool now?
A walking dead on a pulpit preaching,
Like a lying politician seeking
votes.
Minds poisoned from their antidotes.
They walk in the light,
but are devoured by the gloom of that light;
piously seeking to wrong their wrongs
with whatever seems right.
So, they lie on God again,
and God lies …,
patiently, waiting for them to die.
even vultures will not devour the proffered
war time victims, ruined was the impression
of untitled sacrifice, a wild anemone
slips into the river of blood, I tend to forget
the faces of embers –
arson by apostles of peace, it has become a commodity,
oppression releases a promise for optic illusion
through large-prints
a near miss when the truth chokes to death,
suicidal full of nerves-
the hills tremble in anticipation, lambs
were dropping dead on a green patch
such obligation
SATISH VERMA
The dominant strains that run through my veins
render it hard to ascertain
where alcohol and nicotine sin
ceases, desists and I begin.
A criminal trend to miscomprehend
why I swig yet another one ‘round the bend,
glass in hand, oblivion to seek,
drowning along the whisky creek.
If you jerked the chain linked to my brain
and trod on the shakier side of sane,
you could be me for one lost weekend
and walk in the shadows that nightly descend.
This fleeting release, this creeping disease
in a quest for eventual quiet and peace;
vacation, a respite from living with me,
my comfort, my poison, my cup of tea.
The chatter of noises and barbarous voices
are slain in a hailstorm of cul-de-sac choices;
lie dead on a beer-mat, quiet as a lamb,
if I drink therefore I am.