Long Saddam hussein Poems

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Premium Member A Questing Eulogy

It is nearing 09/11
I feel the years roll back
And what I wish was just a dream
Consumes me with the coldest fact.

That unwary citizens that day 
About their daily task
Came face to face with hateful death
And fell beneath his grinding axe.

What legacy, what epitaph
Can justify their deaths?
A stinging gauntlet slapped our face
For years the challenge went unmet.

So long the villain did run free
The whole world knew his name
It was Osama Bin Laden
We laid to rest Saddam Hussein.

A tale to tell our young ones
I know not yet what history say
Only time can dull the awful pain
But I still get sick about that day.

My heart never cease to ache 
I dream of souls in agony.
Why does it seem that just the bereaved
Can grasp my questing eulogy.

For awhile it seemed we'd never see
Sharp justice bye and bye
Some wagged their heads to realize
We had no ' catcher in the rye.'

A healing came I can't explain
To fill the hollow depth
Ground zero is recovering
It seems that most the tears are wept.

Then a mystery befell us
Something never seen in history
The first black U.S. president
And our 'catcher' soon to be.

Not at all what we expected
Yet it happened just the same
By his hand Bin Laden was bested
And the world 'seemed' right again.

                    Yet
There's a tide that's rising in the south
And rumors of an eastern gale
The west best post a strong lookout
And then, if all else fail.....?


RETA PRUITT
August 18, 2016
Form: Elegy


Premium Member 1984

What a year – Tim was just a little boy of 25 – naïve and

Lost in ‘innocence’ a critical time bomb waiting to happen

Blue-eyed he listened to Nena’s 99 Red Balloons flying high

While Band Aid wondered whether They Know it’s Christmas
		
          Sticking plaster for an ignorant conscience
          
          Plasters cast for broken souls and hunger

Summer Olympics in Los Angeles the world disunited

As the Soviet Union boycotted the Festival of Youth

Hollywood and Universal Studios Footloose competed

With The Killing Fields for consumption and Oscars

          Dancing in full view of the Apocalypse
	  
          Khmer Rouge and Holding Out for a Hero

Miner’s Strike in Great Britain with Margaret Thatcher’s

Heavy handbag crushing legitimate opposition’s pickets

Reagan became ‘acting’ president and Space Shuttle discovered

That we have only have one lonely planet so we must muck it up

          Cold War awaited nuclear freeze and
	 
          Hiroshima was declared a minor aberration

Metallica roared Blitzkrieg inferno and Armageddon

Iraq fought Iran and guess who was supporting whom

The US supplied Saddam Hussein with poison gas while 

In Afghanistan they supported Taliban and Mujahedeen

          ‘The enemy of our foe is our good friend’
   	  
          Coalitions must change freely in axes of evil

George Orwell comes to mind with Eurasia Oceania and

Eastasia altering alliances but then history must be forbidden

It can mislead young minds and wars have to be waged

For the sake of gory glory and self-righteous delight

          Who reads books anyway and why and for what
	  
          They might seduce us to hail love and compassion

In 1984 Tim longed for flowers in hair scribbled Peace signs

On flare bottom jeans 20 years past The Sound of Silence

Had not mustered the courage yet to challenge the inevitable

Collusion of his inactivity with happy murder for money and oil

	  Slowly though he finds his belligerent voice and
		
          Concludes that the 80’s offer more than nostalgia

Premium Member A Mother's Prayer

A Mother's Prayer

I kneel in front of the alter praying the rosary to keep my sons protected while they’re serving their country to keep us safe.

As the Persian Gulf War drew to a close, Saddam Hussein ordered six hundred wells to be blown up and set on fire that burned for seven months so no one would benefit from its riches. In the meantime while the Navy ships were in close fighting providing navel gun support, the men were inhaling the smoke of the Kuwaiti oil fields fires. Livestock and other animals perished from the oily, mist. 


down on  bended knee
for strength and serenity
suffering heart prays

© By 11/12/2014
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Haibun

Last Day

What? One day to live what shall I do?
Should I bungee jump or play the didgeridoo?
Go to the pub and run up a tab?
Maybe see every street from the back of a cab?
I know I will jump on a flight heading to Spain,
From the back of the plane, shout “Revenge for killing my brother Saddam Hussein”

Or, go into a shop and take a bite out of every chocolate bar,
Yes and take a baseball bat and bash my neighbour’s car
Or set my dog on my boss and tell him he has rabies
Chat up as many women and make lots of babies (worth a try in one day)

And when time is about to run out I’ll bend over
And kiss goodbye my grass and favourite clover

But the only thing that I can think at this moment that is not mine
That is, all this thinking what to do, I’ve run out of time
So with my last breath all I can say
I think I’ll leave you and go to pray.



**If I only had 1 day to live Poetry Contest **
Form: Rhyme

Defining Truth Defies Das Democratic Thinker In the Age of Trump

"FAKE" assertions unstoppably
bandied with beef,
(sans doughty deeds done dirt cheap)
courtesy of commander in chief
trumpeted as a way to backout,

embarrassment analogous to the thief
of Baghdad, when culpable faux pas
woe philly pops thought balloon of mine
reckons with transparent "good grief"
within mind of yours truly,

who finds himself dumbstruck
aghast, and shaking noggin with disbelief
how people can be so gullible
who would just as lief
eat a pin cushion to deliver strep throat relief.

First amendment teeter totters on brink
of dissolution mainly by the rat fink,
whose defamation against journalists
risking life and limb, yet not shrink

king enlightening liberal minded, who think
similar to myself, imposter
hood drums utter rubbish
while feeling teed off puttering

along Mar a Lago, 
or another owned golf link
resorting to silence protesters
whisked off to the klink.

Distortions, (nee outright
blatant lies) saturate
social media platforms,
which followers didst rate

as their numero uno slate
supposedly reliable sources
harkening back to papa retaliate
Tory Bush prez administration,

regarding patrilineal shogunate
where Iraq summarily
targeted for crashing Kuwait
violating, jeopardizing, and

compromising vital oil, literate
folks suspected, that critical
lubricant mandatory to resonate
greasing western civilization

particularly self anointed great
super power USA, hence
alarmists didst exaggerate,
whose military intelligence

industrial leaders got irate
contracting complex projecting
global economy would vacillate
and, perhaps take Kamikaze nosedive

hence procrastination could not wait
demanding based on sketchy accusation
Saddam Hussein, and his ilk ultimate
harbored weapons of mass destruction

despite lack of distilled proof,
would severely truncate
nary a trace sniffed out,
nonetheless damn the torpedoes blitzed

in an effort to triangulate
miscreant running amuck
eventually met demise
with Bush Junior delivering

permanently placating tete a tete,
no matter dispensing top notch
fighting soldiers, whose strong
lifeless bloodied bodies remain prostate.


Deep Within Throes of Writers Block Cerebral Cortex Feels Frozen To the Core

Deep within throes of writer's block cerebral cortex feels frozen to the core

Haint no rhyme nor reason
why writing a poem such an arduous chore
twenty two days afore
winter solstice twenty twenty more
or less three weeks from tomorrow
November thirtieth, I implore
the god/goddess of poetry,
perhaps found within Bangalore
highlighted by the 'Green Door'
guarded by the key don Eeyore
also known as Al Gore
him of Earth in the Balance fame
who by George got ambushed unsure
if he chad chance to claim victory tour
when former candidate did score
less electoral college votes
nevertheless in my mind before
thoroughgoing count did ignore
discarded ballots scattered
all across the floor
which outcome incurred Iraq war
insinuating weapons of mass destruction
the gung ho forty third president forswore
existed but quite a few
respectable Republicans did abhor
pinning such ambiguous lore
upon head of recalcitrant Saddam Hussein
bombed back to stone age
think lavishing primitive home decor
no imprecation heaped and hurled
upon United States military, nor
thug, who nobody did adore
asking politely "por favor
can I pretty please take detour
to Galapagos Islands of Ecuador
made famous courtesy Charles Darwin
still popular best selling author
at garden variety generic bookstore
which borders on ridiculous for sure
yet inane rhyme tore
thru my noggin after writer's block
yours truly did deplore
he would spend countless hours in vain
every burst of creativity I did explore
found me smack dab against
figurative cul de sac and bonjour
to you too three score
orbitz after me late papa did bore
mama, she passed away
fifteen years before.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Living Ex-Presidents

43 American presidents since our founding.                                                                                                                                      Living history, alive and well in 5 living ex-presidents.                                                                                                                                  If individually good enough to become a US president,                                                                                what could they accomplish as collective and unified minds?
Are they not a treasure house of history, wisdom, and experience?                      
***********************************************************
*Mr. Carter(1976-80) He was a successful peanut farmer, and a Governor.                                                                                                 Now, a brief condensed version of his 4 year presidency: Change the heart; Being born again; Tell no lies; Surprised at The Soviet Union for invading Afghanistan; Fought hard for peace in the Middle East and won the Noble Peace Prize, but lost the Peace; Iran: Could not bring the hostages home.  
**********************************************************                                                                                                                                               
Five ex presidents, still alive to shape, to show, and to tell their own story.                                                                                     And their own history of 4 to 8 years is part of the same history of America.                                                                       Are they not also a collective institution, a museum, as well as a library?                                                              Away from the Oval Office, are they being utilized for the cause of peace?
*********************************************************    **Mr. Bush 1(1988-92) And now, a brief condensed version of his 4 year Presidency: New World Order; Read my lips; No New Taxes; Manuel Noriega;  Panama; Saddam Hussein; Iraq And Desert Storm.
*************************************************************
09222017 PS 
*The listing order of Presidents is purely chronological 
**Mr. Reagan followed Mr. Carter, but he is not a living ex-president

Premium Member Mean Guys

Atilla was a Huney and Goliath too ~ when compared to you

Hitler was a madman, evil at his core ~ a creature to abhor

Empowering Iraq was Saddam Hussein ~ the tyrant was insane

Himmler was responsible for the Holocaust ~ lives of Jews were lost

Bin Laden's al-Qaeda attacked the Towers ~ vile  misuse of powers

Manson created a cult ~ celebrity murders were the result

Ted Bundy: serial killer filled with wrath ~ a charming psychopath 

Jack the Ripper murdered prostitutes ~ took their sex organs, not their boots

Jeffrey Dahmer was a cannibal ~ creepy like Lecter, Hannibal

Berkowitz, Son of Sam ~ used a .44 caliber... bam bam bam

Chucky took souls as a killer clown ~ no one is safe when he's around
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Monoku

afternoon stroll

afternoon stroll

I walked into a landscape painting made of chlorophyll 
in eleven variations, and there were no adolescent  girls
around suffering from sclerosis, but did see a pale face
in a car driving by, cattle string incomprehensively at
the painting
the heaven was pale blue with hasty brush strokes 
of fondly white painted looking like the top crest of
waves gone astray, petrified by loneliness
Rocks too, were green as decaying teeth and sheep
shorn looking ridicules and ashen among verdant
olive trees 
As the sun was about to hibernate and night cast
shadows on the silent stage, colors evaporated 
I thought of Saddam Hussein, already forgotten
had a daughter who loved him, saw him as tragic
a figure fighting the occupiers
This teaches us one needs not to be saint to be
loved
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

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