Long Battle line Poems
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Long green grasses stir in the gentle breeze
bright summer sun beats down upon them
cool fragrant scent rises up into the air
carried across the land in the gentle breeze
bright blossoms of yellow shine in the sun
gently wave in the breeze as they follow the sun
their bright sent mixes into the air
gentle summer breeze carries the scent of life
land slowly rises curving up into the sky
forming into mountains covered in trees
rising high into the bright blue sky
beneath bright white clouds riding high
soft white flows higher climbing into the sky
slowly darkening turning to black
growing spreading covering the sun
casting shadows that cover and dark the land
now racing quickly covering the bright sky
breeze now quickening turning to wind
grasses now thrashing whipped by its strength
flowers whip wildly torn by the wind
in the distance rain now falls down
growing ever fiercer beating the land
coming ever nearer like a battle line
as bright flashes appear in the sky
sound barely heard whispers distantly
growing quickly louder coming nearer
rumbles mutter distantly heard
growing ever louder becoming roars
drops now falling gently down
growing quicker harder now too
hitting yellow blossoms violently hard
blossoms close tightly curling hard
grasses assaulted by falling drops
their weight crushing beating to the ground
flattened into the soil quickly turning to mud
under dark sky roaring so loud
darkness is broken by bright flashing light
thunder covers sound of rain falling down
cold wind roars carrying away all warmth
all life is crushed by the storms might
rainfall slackens fading slowly away
dark clouds rise lifting away
sunlight slowly pierces reaching the ground
wind fades again to gusting breeze
dark clouds race quickly away
sunlight now falls fully on the ground
steam rises into warming breeze
grasses drying lift again into the sky
blossoms drying opening slow
petals opening into the sun
fragrance again filling the air
with scent of grasses already there
distant mountains rise into the sky
shining in sunlight covered in trees
soft white clouds slowly fading away
leaving the broad bright blue sky
The spearheads are keeping a tight formation,
pride keeping the body upright,
raking claws are sometimes raking home,
they find their way past sagging shields.
What deep wounds these claws do cause,
yet bloodied these spearheads do stand,
needle-sharp pain ne'er dulled by tiredness,
stand in honour, battle weary.
Still hold, you red of Alahsar,
Steadfast to your bloody duty,
humanity must live or die,
forever soldiers of the red.
stay cocooned in glories wonder,
you warriors of golden Alahsar.
Weary each one may have been,
yet still they stood as monoliths,
holding strong against insurmountable odds,
only pride keeping them upright.
They knew they had to stand,
all depended on these moments,
their mission to move forward,
come what may, live or die.
How terrible the scene on Badicha,
dead and dying everywhere,
The stench of death attacks the nostrils,
the sickness wants to come.
Long remembered the screams of the living,
never forget the moans of those dying.
Oh, children of Alahsar,
never forget the horror,
keep your spearheads moving forward,
pushing slowly on and on.
Against this wall of hatred, push,
slay the demons of the dark,
slay the enemies of the light,
death's dance before us is displayed.
Oh, Dark Man,
strike home with all your power,
strike with hatred Utamol,
sword of glory now covered black.
Lead your spearhead on beloved,
the glory of the mighty storm,
fight on for golden Alahsar,
beloved of Heaven's grace.
Chapter ..... 3 ..... Part ..... 2.
Now, let us look upon the main regiment of foot,
they fight on with the glory of the red,
fight on men of Alahsar,
staunch and brave stand before death.
Your banners are so proudly flying,
as they fly Alahsar does live,
proudly they fly in the breeze,
the men of Alahsar still stand.
They say that Alahsar still lives,
men still stand in battle line,
Warriors battle to the end,
honour to those who die and live.
Still the outcome is unknown,
for many men do bravely stand,
A final push may end this terror,
come on red, do battle on.
If tomorrow never comes
my heart will be kept in your hands
you remember me when sword is seen by
my words will never lie like an eunuch wind
i tried hard to discard those ugly image of war from my heart
once and more, another image came to me
raw and shocking, causing me to flush and bite my lips
and i thought how cruel life could be.
how heartless and uncaring nature treat me
rivers of darkness, i swam in pains
as the battle line is drawn ahead of me
i want you to know how much i love you
have no doubt in your humble heart if you see me no more
i work in shield, against the charnel house
memories that threatened to engulf me
and i could not shake free from the cold hands of the past
let my image be caved in your heart
down on the alley are more good memories kept behind
that would shield you for ever
change has not come yet
to this part where life is a race
in which the strong trample the weak
remember my wills written in the wall
sound of my music flowing in your veins
down the river band behind the iroko
i tossed the bed of roses you gave me
although they seems stale but stagnant they stood
waiting for the remarkable day to come.
let my feelings and emotions remains not silent
welcome charity in sound mind
orphans and the homeless forget not
feat not alone in my wealth
least you become miserable
say me well to Michael
the son of short Ogbu Efi
we have known each other since ages
climbing hills and trees
take care of our children
wait no longer
teach them the myth and the culture of our kindred
and those folktales mother told us
tales of their father's tribulations, forget not.
this lonely road i walk
fighting for my country
the green leaves howl in tears as i trampled on them
in anger
i wear courage like a shield
attacking the enemies in the battle field so wide
thousands are slain and millions held captive
no retreat no surrender
my hands are stained with innocent blood
as i shrouded in mystery
know you that the love i gave
would for ever last if tomorrow never comes.
The winter winds piled snowdrifts against the old vets cardboard shack.
Another homeless vet, he shared his humble abode with his doggie Zach.
He pulled his tattered army overcoat about his frail frame and lay upon his back,
To reminisce about Christmases past when things were not nearly as black.
He recalled Christmases as a lad when family gathered about the Yule Tree,
To hear the story of that First Christmas as read from Luke at his Father's knee.
He mused, "How I pine fer Mother's turkey, sweet pertaters and punkin pie,
The warmth of my very first love and our sleigh rides beneath the moonlit sky!"
He wondered where his wife was and how the children were getting by.
Alas, demon rum controlled his life and they left without saying goodbye.
He shivered recalling Christmas '52 in Korea and being on the battle line,
The numbing cold, death and C-rations for Christmas fare on which to dine.
He was startled by the tolling bells from St Mary's Church across the way,
Heralding the joyous Birth of the Savior and he bowed his head to pray,
Saying, "Lord, I've hit bottom and I reckon to You I ain't of much worth,
But please lend Yer ear and accept my thanks fer that little Feller's Birth!"
Tomorrow, Christmas Day, he'd have dinner at the Springs Rescue Mission,
And sneak a bone or two for Zach, always looking out for his nutrition!
He'd abide 'neath the Uintah Street Bridge 'till the cops asked him to depart,
But he'd shift his meager belongings to another in his battered shopping cart.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Power, it's influence can be seen all over
Can you see it's effect on society?
Diminishing my hopes for I don't know whose who in this game
Have to tie a rope on my foot as I walk into the forest
It would be my guide when I get lost on the way
For this reason I don't want to hold onto this monster
People loss their minds and dignity to power and it's respect
Power, tell me what you feed to people
For I would want to have a taste of that meal that's hidden
For am curious enough, can you see my desire?
Look at how our leaders change when they taste power
Who placed the devil on the sit that's the most powerful?
The lies of our leaders are breaking my heart and our vision for tomorrow
It's true, guns don't fire bullets, it's the human finger that pulls the trigger
Mothers are crying for the loss of their children
Their sons and daughters are on the battle line risking their lives for a country
A country that doesn't give them a hope for peace
Child soldiers are begin recruited to serve the desire of power
Is the pain worth? Are the tears we shed precious?
Our hearts are been dug deep with misery
Don't ever change for power, for it will break your soul
Who wrote the writings on the wall?
Let God's hand appear and write on the wall
So that we may get an interpreter
We see the letters but we don't get the message
We blind, for the facts are all over yet we ignore the damage
Are we fools of our intelligence?
Lets learn to make changes by our own decisions we make
He stands there waiting for the new dawn to come.
strewn all about before him in a field of broken dreams;
are the scattered pieces of his once new beginnings.
Doors are closed, fences are wired ;
The battle line is drawn as he guards;
the inner most of his existence.
His face is lined with worry and marred ;
by the tears from rivers of sorrow for lost hope.
The cries from within are deadened;
by the walls of silent anger and he waits.
He waits for one who has not come;
as feathers of doves lay before him as if guiding.
All are unknown paths and unsure directions.
Driven by desire but imprisoned by circumstances;
escape seems hopeless. and like a cancer;
desperation spreads and consumption seems inevitable.
In a secret place of his mind are the memories of yesterdays tomorrows.
A house is not a home and windows are fastened shut..
In a garden where flowers once bloomed tangled webs of lies and deceit now loom;
and his universe goes unfed..
In his dreams comes a lady of magic.
Her face goes unseen, there's only a light from her eyes;
and it penetrates his mind and somehow tells him;
that with her blown breath fences will vanish.
doors will be open; and with her touch ;
gardens will flourish and hearts will be fed.
There is a gentleness from her that shows him hope;
As the light from the new dawn brings him back to where he stands.
one thought repeats its self over and over.
Is she real?
Will she really come?
Will she come in time?
Strewn all about before him in a field of broken dreams;
Lay the scattered pieces of his once new beginnings.
Doors are closed and fences are wired and the battle line is drawn;
He guards the inner most of his existence.
And his face is lined with worry and marred by the tears;
From his rivers of sorrow for all lost hope.
His cries from within are deadened by the walls of silent anger;
And he waits; He waits for one who has not come.
Feathers of doves lay before him as if guiding;
But they are unknown paths and unsure directions.
Driven by desire but imprisoned by circumstances;
Escape seems hopeless.
In a secret place of his mind are memories;
Memories of yesterday’s that were once his new tomorrows.
A house is not a home and windows are fastened shut;
In a garden where flowers once bloomed;
Tangled webs of lies and deceit now loom;
And his universe goes unfed.
In his dreams comes a lady of magic;
Her face goes unseen, there's only a light from her eyes;
It penetrates his mind and somehow tells him;
That with her blown breath fences will vanish;
Doors will be opened.
And with her touch gardens will flourish; and hearts will be fed.
There is gentleness from her that shows him hope.
As the light from the new dawn brings him back;
To the place where he now stands;
These thought are repeated over and over.
Is she real; Will she really come?
Will she come in time?
Strewn all about before him in a field of broken dreams;
Lay the scattered pieces of his once new beginnings.
Doors are closed and fences are wired and the battle line is drawn;
He guards the inner most of his existence.
And his face is lined with worry and marred by the tears;
From his rivers of sorrow for all lost hope.
His cries from within are deadened by the walls of silent anger;
And he waits; He waits for one who has not come.
Feathers of doves lay before him as if guiding;
But they are unknown paths and unsure directions.
Driven by desire but imprisoned by circumstances;
Escape seems hopeless.
In a secret place of his mind are memories;
Memories of yesterday’s that were once his new tomorrows.
A house is not a home and windows are fastened shut;
In a garden where flowers once bloomed;
Tangled webs of lies and deceit now loom;
And his universe goes unfed.
In his dreams comes a lady of magic;
Her face goes unseen, there's only a light from her eyes;
It penetrates his mind and somehow tells him;
That with her blown breath fences will vanish;
Doors will be opened.
And with her touch gardens will flourish; and hearts will be fed.
There is gentleness from her that shows him hope.
As the light from the new dawn brings him back;
To the place where he now stands;
These thought are repeated over and over.
Is she real; Will she really come?
Will she come in time?
I keep tripping over hurdles
Barriers forged between our hearts
Walls of a garrisoned fortress
Lofty palisades I must ascend
without crawling on my knees
I admit my faults lie at ego depth
Perhaps it's why I expect too much of you
but I long for the affectionate touch
of your arms catching me when I stumble
and fall, dejected on the ground
When my patience ebbs like ocean tides
your emotions are concealed behind a veil
Please don't pull away from me. Stay,
and I'll soothe your troubled qualms
I keep tripping over hurdles
exposing the core of my darker side
that part of me I cannot hide from your eyes
Can you love me in spite of my flaws?
Will you be my refuge, an amorist crutch?
There's a battle line between us
but I don't recall waging war.
I fear my ways are much too strict
so I'll wave the flag of truce.
Spoils to the victors
when I've breached the final hurdle
With sighing breath across my syllables,
I'm pleading with you for another chance
Despite the way I've mistreated you
would you be a spark of light on my path?
Until I'm sure our love is realigned
I'll keep tripping over hurdles
across each rampart I approach
With hope, I'll reach your garden gate
and wait for your heart to open the door
December 6th, 2019
Pale Shelter Contest
by John Hamilton
Oh Gettysburg, your battle flags lie charred
beneath the corps that stormed the blue abyss.
A fence of stone has marked the final yard
where vanquished legions vanished in the mist.
As cannon fire consumed the summer sky,
it scorched the winds that scattered each brigade.
A final yard, your chronicles decry,
had crushed their will to win the great crusade.
The tides of war have rolled upon this land
as fallen brothers perished in its wake,
to stand as one this Nation must demand,
its battle fallen; time shall not forsake.
As winds of death come wafting through the pine
on placid currents drifting through the field,
brigades of spirits haunt the battle line
where cannons forced their flesh and bone to yield.
Each call to arms, in charge and failed retreat,
seemed endless in the swelter of sun,
for those who pledged to not concede defeat
would forfeit to the fury of the gun.
As agony fell quiet from the blaze,
their lamentations moaned beyond the clash,
the mystic plumes, ascending through the haze,
were silent souls arising from the ash.
Oh Gettysburg, your name shall ring of war.
With reverence, we whisper you in prayer.
In eulogy, we’ll hail forevermore
our Nation’s unknown soldiers harbored there.
July 2018