Long Body bags Poems
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Not caring what people think
She just takes another drink
Stronger than the one before
She is swigging more and more
Trying to drown all the pain
From the sight of the blood stains
She walked into late one night
Memories of such a fright
Seeing her family so still
Her mind just started to fill
Visions of minutes before
Until she walked through the door
With no happy sounds to hear
There's a quiet everywhere
Until police sirens blast
Her house starts to fill up fast
She shuts down and can not speak
From her eyes tears start to leak
A look of horror on her face
As body bags are closed and laced
Weeks and months are never helping
There is no way of forgetting
The torture that's in her mind
Every second she will find
Flashbacks to that deadly scene
Going back and forth between
Seeing happy days before
A new one shows her all the gore
She found in that horror house
Her children and loving spouse
Taken away far too soon
To the stars and heaven too
With a drink in both her hands
She can hardly walk or stand
Trying to understand why
Her whole family had to die
Hoping all her drinking will
Poison her enough to kill
So she can join them once more
Her heart stops---she's on the floor
News flash
Paris attacks;
Violence strikes
~~~~~~~~~
Innocent deaths
Terror unveils;
Death delivers
~~~~~~~~~
Madness conspires
Human debris;
Bigotry unleashed
~~~~~~~~~
Evil men scheme
Distorted agendas;
Self-destruct roams
~~~~~~~~~
Good people die
Bloodbath escalates;
Terror unleashed
~~~~~~~~~
Signs of our times
Deceptive turbulence;
Mortal casualties
~~~~~~~~~
Moods swayed
Fear catapults;
Distorted means
~~~~~~~~~
Uneasy chimes
Violent crimes;
Explosive times!
~~~~~~~~~
Details of gore
News galore;
Killing fest
~~~~~~~~~
Retribution
Constitution;
Revolution
~~~~~~~~~
Sorrow sums
Deadly outcomes;
Cruelty strikes
~~~~~~~~~
Newsprint copy
Headline news;
Terror firms madness
~~~~~~~~~
Propaganda hurls
People fodder;
Bombs and bullets
~~~~~~~~~
Create if you must
Lodge your complaint;
Body bags not included!
~~~~~~~~~
Atrocities
Exclusive news;
Pain sells well
~~~~~~~~~
Face to face
Terror redecorates;
Body debris trophies
~~~~~~~~~
Why do you do
The things you do?
Tell me
~~~~~~~~~
Love hurts
Violence hurts;
We all hurt
~~~~~~~~~
Precious times
Ransoms forfeit;
Sad humanity mourns
~~~~~~~~~
The cycle of circles
Bad and good;
Seeking balance
~~~~~~~~~
Maybe we can
Find tomorrow;
Safely better?
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
15 November 2015
Singapore
We accept tornadoes here,
expect them, tick them off
as they pass by like demon dreidels.
Usually they are not a big deal
unless they are.
Spring culls its little lambs
in all sorts of ways.
The murder rate in Chicago
climbs ever higher
until the city prays for more snow.
Folks in their privileged trailer parks
get rolled like dice.
A pressing need for body bags
creates work for some.
The addicted and dying oblige
as best they can.
It’s all a small town hush
unless a celebrity overdoses
then distraught, the news is spread
from parlor to parlor.
Shooting-up on the streets
is a recreational choice for those
who camp-out in Cleveland and Dayton.
Meanwhile birds keep singing,
Spring flowers struggle to bloom
squeezed as they are
between such climatic collisions.
We hear the roar and rumble
of funnels turning upon themselves
as they twist the nights away.
He was my sun, my one and only son,
attired as a cowboy for the day.
And so I handed him a little gun
of fastened random sticks, for him to shoot and play.
Attired as a cowboy for the day
he searched for foes (with bows and arrows made
of fastened random sticks for them) to shoot, and play
the part of ‘Injuns’ in a mock charade.
He searched for foes (with bows and arrows made)
well written in his story books before he left for school.
The parts of ‘Injuns’ in a mock charade
were tainted with a crimson war paint, oh so cruel.
Well writ in history books before he left from school,
the tales (retold of victories that we’d won)
were tainted with a crimson war paint, oh so cruel.
The flow of paint was not to staunch when once begun.
From tales retold of victories that we’d won,
he learned to fight for God and country glory, though
the flow of pain, ’twas not to staunch when once begun
and bane to both sides (as he’d later come to know).
He learned to fight for God and country glory, though
the wounds of war were kept unseen (while nigh)
and bane to both sides (as we’d later come to know);
but still he stuffed a duffel bag with several things of youth, then said goodbye.
The wounds of war were kept unseen. While nigh,
the hours boomed, the clock struck 12 at last, his time to leave.
But, still, he stuffed a duffel bag with several things of youth, then said goodbye
to those who’d stay and even those who wouldn’t grieve.
The hours boomed, the clock struck 12 - alas, his time to leave.
They sent back body bags they’d stuffed with severed things of those who’d died
to those who’d stayed. And even those who wouldn’t grieve
with tears were stiff and masked like wooden boxes meant to hide.
They sent back body bags they’d stuffed with severed things of those who’d died;
his boots hung loose, one camouflaged in mud.
With tears, the stiff were masked in wooden boxes meant to hide
our children from the spilling of their blood.
His boots hung loose, one camouflaged in mud;
they said they’d needed him to help defend
our children from the spilling of their blood.
But can they ever see or really comprehend?
They said they’d needed him to help defend,
and so they handed him a little gun.
But can they ever see or really comprehend?
He was my sun, my one and only son.
The border is broken and ignored.
Mixed in with desperate angels are snakes-demons-gangsters.
The latest game of Chinese checkers
(the fentanyl plague) has taken the place of the Wuhan rage...
Body bags are filling with our young, their silky dreams-undone-undone.
A parade float governor belches.
No more cash bail for the violent.
Claiming (from behind his wall) this will make citizens safer.
Prisons are being emptied into once peaceful places.
Lori Lightfoot waves her dog-eared race card again.
The sheep will always vote the same-the -same.
As black brains are being sprayed with .38 caliber candy.
Even Afghanistan is a more peaceful place
than the Un-United States.
Soros hornets, along with the ghosts of Mao and Marx
are stinging Lady Liberty to death.
condemned
died
reprimand
cried
government war
cease fire
democracy whore
more black men dying, dire
body bags
LSD
citizens cried for our guys, to be free
end this conflict please
Liberty
supposed to train oppress to be
armed to protect their liberty
the opposed then set free
Oh! So complex world South Vietnam
Condemned world conflict
60,000 Souls died
indigenous fortress
communist reprimand military conflict
Cries
started in 1955
stop prevent spread
of Communism
throughout all of Southeast Asia
Sound the alarm
End the war in Vietnam
9/5/74
Written by James Edward Lee ©1974, 2021
And when it ends suddenly, unexpectedly,
You start to count.
First on the days, then the hours - then
Just counting until 100
Then
Beginning again.
The dead find their faces
The living count faces
Then most forget
Unless the face has your DNA in it,
But you remember the body bags
Being moved around in the night,
The nurses crying,
The lies being spread,
The excuses,
The obfuscation,
The blundering incompetence
Of bureaucracy and officialdom.
The elderly kept in deathcamps
that used to be nursing homes.
The grinning mayors
And governors.
It’s going away now.
Less and less each day.
It’s going away now
It’s going to a place
Where the living cannot find it
It’s going away now.
And suddenly you are very angry
About the stupid shut-ins and the shut-downs,
The politicization of tragedy.
The muddled and slanted statistics
The ridiculous projections,
The false data.
The contradictions and bluster.
The draconian regulatory and government
Sponsored power grabs.
The gagging and intimidation
Of workers.
The trashing of basic freedoms
People
Jailed,
Fined,
Harassed.
The banning's.
The right to collectively worship denied,
Peaceful protest denied.
Businesses forced into bankruptcy.
The unemployment
The waste.
And destruction.
The sundering of families,
The needless school closures,
The suffering that led
To clinical depression and drug overdoses,
The disdain of those
Who rejected commonsense remedies.
The manipulations
And machinations,
All the willing useful fools
Chorusing together to tread down
Democracy.
The grinning talking heads
Who doctored the news.
The attacks and the cancelling
Of those who begged to differ.
Dissenters labeled conspiracy theorists.
The cover-ups:
Gain of function.
GAIN OF FUNCTION.
The dumb mantra of the ignorant
Demanding we 'follow the science'
But the science was wrong
The scientists lied
They lied.
They all knew
AND THEY LIED!
And I am still counting
In case it returns
And I have a lot more things to count,
Lots more to tally and be made
ACCOUNTABLE.
.
A Bloodless Conquest Underway
Armies of the world have United
All the military in common greed
Power- in Weapons is Authority
Baying for blood- quite outdated
Patriots - …They saved their land
Their citizens. …Future of Children
Made final sacrifice. ..They Returned in body bags
Brave and Poignant. …The Heroes - Real Men
Now They have been ….Taken control of
Arms dealers. Weapon …Manufacturers
Technology and MEDIA. …& Bad science
Lots of planning has gone…into all this
They’ve worked out- Every…What IF ?
Replace every working body ..All
With Robots- Central control-AI
Use Humans against Humans
Divide & Confuse
Take over children
Ruin the education
Enforce digitization
Create digital divide
A tad bad calculation
Done on Spread sheet
In language of machines - Thinking in binaries
In Black & White or in 50 shades of gray. BTW
Humans are sparkles of light . Are Multifaceted
Unlike robots- Humans do not wear their bones outside
You can not separate and make humans take on humans
Such experiments might have worked on lab rats and mice
After a while the forces will return to their homes to families
Folks will wash off the colors - Thank God We did not Bleed
The Mourning Morning 100 and 50 Years On
Robert Graves lies in Wilfried Owen’s grave ponders the War
to end all Wars that continue with nothing else for us in store
and Barry Mc Guire sang summed it all up in 65 in destruction’s
eve thereof a cold dawn of reckoning conscience lost ever more
My Lai lives on and Srebrenica in naked truth of persecution
soars Wall Street Abrams Challenger Tanks as the best solution
for keeping pacifism social justice common sense at dismembered
arm’s length and loss still counts body bags for the good of delusion
Wounded Knee White and other blood rivers Tigris Euphrates
Nyabarongo swell swollen this morning today at great ease
with buried tears pounding of drums the pride and disgrace’
falsified messages broken walls shots of money’s droned lease
You can’t bury the dead and not leave a trace but attempt very well
to photo-shop engage propaganda erase meaning and sell sell sell
Marches alone will not consign madness ethnic cleansing proven
genocidal greedy insanity but disapprove sin and continue to tell
About 'Eve Of Destruction' like Graves Ghandi Mc Guire 50 years on
tune protest poetry and rock ballads shout clear in more than a song
Contemplate on the call up imagine a battle and nobody goes forth
scream howl against dogs of war and their masters please sing along
31st August 2016
Stuck on a hybrid labyrinth race track in undue course
Crash helmet cracked under the raw tempo of stagnation
Chequered flags waving but a motor running against the clock
In reverse and the traffic prohibits pit stops for tyres and fuel
Exhausted depleted high on adrenaline withdrawal
A silent movie plays on tiring spools of grey matter
More like a collection of photographs in faded sepia
An accident waiting to happen ready for another pile up
The gear box strains in overdrive and the pistons complain
Brake fluid seeps into the cockpit and floods the clutch
Hazards are blinking like a stroboscope and prism of pace
High octane acceleration on a road to immanent nowhere
Satellite navigation in conflict with his auto pilot
Cruise control on a highway to hell and beyond
Ejector seat wedged into a half open sun roof
Theodore calls 911 and the Thought Police arrive
Arsonists join the scene in fire engines stalled on the emergency lane
The ambulance doctor injects truth serum with dizzying speed
Body bags remain unopened but sanity is scraped off the road
Repackaged sealed in bubble wrap in case the airbag won’t open
In hospital he wakes off his trolley on a tiny stretcher
So convoluted they can’t find a straightjacket that fits
Confined to another bedlam on the psychiatry ward
And the dashboard flickers on the way to his lost mind
17th December 2019