I lay in the dust turned to mud by the blood of innocents,
my name i heard whispered on the sighing breeze of night
flahes of somrthing bright illuminated a ruined city.
broken buildings like jagged teeth seemed to laugh,
screams like banshees filled the sky dropping death
down upon the heads of those already dead.
What hate must be brewing in peoples hearts,
that no one lifts a finger to help.
They say that God gives them the right,
however no one knows what God they serve.
Little children some still babes lay beside me,
blank eyes looking up,as if pleading for help.
My tears are spent and as dry as the sand beneath me,
My time has come to travel a new path now,
Following the trail of those gone before,
A trail of tears no,as no tears are left to shed.
Meeting fellow travellers of all nations,
murdered ,is all they say.
Andrew Provan McIntyre. 01/07/2025.
Like a termite eating willow oak, Herod felt empty.
Fear of the threat of dethroning Brim-filed abundantly
Could a little lamb invade the den of a lewd lion?
Could a rod of reed face the force of a pole of iron?
Like a mad monkey, Herod scattered fragile eggs and nests.
Troopers cut kids to pieces, pulling them from mothers' breasts.
Weeping and wailing tore the veils of the night of Ramah.
Who could consent to be consoled by Covert’s crude drama?
Wanting to know you, the unknown hero, they were born
Before seeing their hero face-to-face soon they were gone.
Had they seen you, their friend, wouldn't they have reviled Herod?
Was this why the coward, like a wounded jackal, worried?
Little humans, destined for eternity, were slaughtered
Wasn't this why roots and routes of law to love got altered?
several neighbors are watching
young innocents fall in love in a garden
remembering their own romantic stories
with deep sighs,
trying to capture the feelings
many had lost long ago
Itchy Fingers?
I don’t mind dying in a nuclear war.
As long as it’s quick, not a lingering bore.
It’ll give the elite a chance to see the cloud.
Kill off the plebs in a crimson shroud.
I know their fingers are itching.
To press the oblivion button.
See what happens,
from Moscow to Sutton.
and all the places in between,
They’ll watch it from their bunkers.
All the beautiful people I mean.
The psychopaths who own us
And control our pointless lives.
We the workers who feather their hives.
So, press it Musk, Trump, Putin and all else
Hidden in your bunkers focusing on self.
Obliterate the world.
And the useless kind
You can do it to me.
I really don’t mind.
David Cox 27/02/24
People die every second of the day
Death is the absolute absence of life
People are murdered, slaughtered in daylight
Sadness is at the center of the fray.
Babies are born every second of the day
Listen to the cries. Life is painful, yet beautiful
Death is hurtful, also painful, yet dreadful
The latter has no hope, yet in dismay, in disarray.
War kills. Bombs kill. Terrorists kill. Soldiers kill
Bloodshed is everywhere. Death is everywhere
Death always brings pain, suffering and sadness
Death never accompanies peace and happiness.
Death is the absence of anything that’s light
Death is motionless and emotionless. Death has no life
Sadness is everywhere. Suffering is everywhere
The heart stops beating and dancing. Death is in the air.
All are hurt, devastated and mourning
At night, in the afternoon and in the morning
No peace and a raft of death in the atmosphere
No fun. No justice and no life. Death is everywhere.
Copyright © October, 2023, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Yesterday as I sat in the Mall having a cup of coffee
Two young ladies came and sat next to me.
Both were well-dressed, and I thought they were friends.
The oldest one of them had bought two cream cakes
A coffee and a green smoothie.
The younger of them started to clap her hands and laugh loudly,
She looked deliriously happy and kept on laughing and clapping her hands.
Then I noticed a badge on her jacket that said she lived in a special
care home and was shopping in the Mall with her carer for the day.
She was carrying a neatly folded plastic bag full of
different coloured flower heads she had picked herself
before shopping. When I finished my coffee, I said bye-bye and said
it looked like she was having a lovely day.
Wreathed in smiles and pure joy, she opened the plastic bag and
presented me with one of her lovely flower heads.
A simple gesture that melted my heart, filling it with joy and
happiness.
I am fortunate to have encountered such a sweet, innocent soul who
shared her joy and flowers with everyone she met.
Solemn newscasters retell
Accounts filled with sorrow.
More children lost
where they should have been safe.
Seven lives cut short by
the careful planning of one.
We see Rachel’s tears
falling again. They’re gone.
Parents, communities cry out
“How can such evil be addressed?”
Empty arms ache with excruciating pain.
We remember Michelangelo’s “La Pieta”,
She neither blamed her Creator,
nor held back her expression of sorrow.
As we see yet another example of innocent slaughter,
And wonder how we address this culture of death.
Such pervasive life-destroying demands provoke us
to join the saints below the altar and cry, “How long Lord…?
Take me down to ground zero, brother,
I need to see the truth -
where dark angles from hell
put evil in place,
and three thousand innocents died.
Take me down to ground zero, sister,
I want to feel the void -
when an enemy’s faith
put death before life,
and cowards made innocents die.
Take us to the five-sided fortress
and also honor the field -
where a test in the West
started defense,
and our bravest are still rollin’ on.
Beautiful are the Hearts of God's Children
Blessed are those of the truest heart;
Beautiful the Faith of believers;
Who worship with innocents of a child's heart;
9/19/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
You wonder at the sense of it all
And living where guns have the final call
And going about your daily lives
Places you in danger not disguised
May god accept the little ones taken in an act so cruel
With their teachers who have passed by gunman’s rule
How many lives taken by the gun
For guns and murder to not to have won?
Vale to the innocents Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas 25/5/22.
Two years ago
Man started defending
A war with virus
Now still going on
Man's throne is unstable
New deputy is rising up one by one
Soon out of control
Unknown and discouraging
Many have given up and gone
Pity the man
Pity the digital world
Pity the innocents who have departed
Without knowing what really happened
Even those still alive are wondering
Who will be the king
In the next dynasty
The man or the virus
Fury of the sea
Panic of the boat
Cry of the fishermen
Catastrophic
Is it a revenge of the fish
For the pollution of the sea
Innocent were the fishermen
Who were wrapped
In the waves
And disappeared from the sea
Defendless
You sweet, tender, immortal fifteen
Caught up in wonderful delusions
Fearlessly staring life in the face
Facing your future without remorse
Do not sleep away your innocence
Age will slip quietly through your door
You will awaken to find yourself
Longing for all your youthful passions
created 2/17/2011
When we are born and starting to grow
we start crawling to find our feet
When we are able and wanting to know
you see our character starting to beet
It’ now our innocents you have to protect
you have to teach us right from wrong
It’s our deference you have to project
so, we can learn to be bright and strong
In our youth, you except who we are
as it is us, who are finding our way
We don’t want to be someone afar
we want to feel needed, to have our say
When it gets harder, to climb the ladder
that’s when good mates, can help you achieve
They help you step up and be louder
as they are there, for you to believe
Discrimination is not very nice
for us, who struggle in life
We find it hard, to roll the dice
and not end up, in strive
It is hard to live life with a mental illness
you feel out of place, for what they call normal
All we want, is respect and kindness
to save our grace, and not feel ad normal
Where can true love go;
When a heart has gone;
Where can hate begin to show;
When people pure with the innocents;
the innocents, innocents
as white as the pure driven snow
such innocents, this innocents
Why has he left me
Why, why dis he leave me here
And why has he left me constant must trust
no such luck, I'm innocent
Where can a Savior be;
When is the Lord of Venus the sun;
Going to shine down it's love;
'Who is that shines on
Shines bright and rich tasteful favored bless the sun;
And when it's all said and done yet I am the innocent;
4/24/90
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©1990
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