Long Unarmed Poems
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Putin said he wouldn't invade, but then he's known for his lies
So when he sent in his murdering scum, it came as no surprise
It will go down in the annals of history, as Putin's great blunder
And if anything it's united Ukraine, and not tore it asunder.
American President Joe Biden has now found a way
To make that despicable war criminal, Vlad Putin pay
To Ukraine he's sending lethal predator, and reaper drones
That will help to build stocks of dog food, of Russian bones.
Russian soldiers are not human from what we have seen
You've read and seen the evidence, so you know what I mean
They're gutless and have yellow streaks all down their backs
And scurry down to the sewers when Ukraine counter attacks.
Russians fire from a distance and let their lethal missiles fly
At hospitals, nurseries and any innocent civilians passing by
They only kill unarmed men, women and children, who pose no threat
But Russia, the civilised world is watching and we will not forget.
Red flags are what the Russians are using, to justify a crime
But the world is not stupid and it can see through the grime
A Russian town on the border was shelled so they could blame Ukraine
Then used it as an excuse to inflict, more misery and pain.
Every Despot who commits war crimes will always pay the price
Putin the war dog will be put down, Ukraine will not think twice
He'll have to surround himself with thugs and be lucky every day
But an avenger will only have to strike lucky once, to make Putin pay.
No tears were shed when he lost his flagship, in the black sea
It is one lethal weapon less to use, against that war torn country
The west thought sanctions alone would bring this war to an end
But it hasn't really worked, so more arms the west must send.
The battle for the Eastern Donbas region is well underway
And for those brave Ukrainian defenders, we must all pray
They're fighting to defend their freedom and sovereignty
But only military aid from the West will ensure their victory.
The horrific scenes we've seen on the news of towns reduced to rubble
Are because Putin knows he's not winning and that he's in trouble
At his forthcoming military parade, he's hoping to announce a victory
But if he was an honest man he'd tell his country, that he's failed miserably.
Written on 20th April 2022
Death dreaming
Playfully I kicked the round object.
The round object did not object.
It rolled and rolled and rolled,
While on and on I lazily strolled.
Suddenly I stopped with untold dread,
As I indeed beheld someone’s head.
A lifeless skull lifelessly gazing at me,
A fleshless face silently talking to me.
Around me human bones lay scattered,
Remains of a community forever shattered.
Bones once delivered alive at birth,
Came to life again but in certain death,
Each bone narrating its own story,
In horrific details all too gory.
I could see the picture all clear and plain,
A vivid portrait of human death and pain.
Guns suddenly barked piercing golden silence.
Silence destroyed was replaced by violence.
Cries of pain and anguish rang in my ear,
Terrified eyes darting in total fear.
Men and women no more living treasure,
As they were butchered for mere pleasure.
Beautiful and innocent but most scared,
Children and babies were not spared.
Pregnant mothers viciously cut open,
Their unborn left to wither away in the open.
I could smell the flowing warm blood,
Which soon turned into a cold flood.
The alarm clock suddenly let out a sharp scream.
Alarmed I woke up from a terrifying dream.
Cold sweat pouring from every single pore,
As if chased by the most ferocious foe.
My hand fumbled for the remote control,
To watch events I do not control.
My pounding heart stopped with untold dread.
As I indeed beheld numerous heads,
Lifeless skulls painfully gazing at the world,
Lifeless faces silently talking to the world.
All over human bodies lay scattered,
Remains of communities forever shattered.
This time I was not just dreaming,
What I was watching was somewhere happening.
But this world is for all to live in peace.
Citizens of one world we can live in peace.
All of us destined for prosperity and peace.
Why then hatred that hates peace?
Why the brutality that shatters peace?
Why then selfishness that denies peace?
Why the raping that abuses peace?
Why senseless killing that kills our peace?
Why violence that violates the right to peace?
Why the genocide that wipes away peace?
Immediately I stood up to fight for peace,
Forever the unarmed soldier of peace.
You, what shall you choose but in peace,
Will it be violence or will it be peace?
Come join me in the battle for peace.
Peter Marimi
How much more can we stand
To witness the killing of "Another Black Man?"
Walking with a friend, these two meet
Words were spoken, get the “F” out the street
Getting out of his car, taking this shh… a lil too far
Pulling out his gun, Mike Brown on the run
Hands up, don’t shoot, Black Lives Matter
Shot down to the ground, see the blood splatter
Black Man on the ground lifeless and dead
“No Indictment,” was the verdict they said
Over and over, again and again
Got this on video, but we know how it end
“Leave me alone, stop harassing me”
I’m minding my own business, can’t you see
All of a sudden, Eric Garner was choked
“I can’t breathe,” the last words he spoke
No justice, no peace, another brother deceased
Black Man on the ground lifeless and dead
“No Indictment,” was the verdict they said
And now to the world, you gotta go tell
Unarmed Black Man killed in the stairwell
Can you believe, it wasn’t even dark?
12 year old killed, shot dead in a park
Kid was riddled with bullets all in him
No questions asked, he was dead in a minute
Here we are in 2020, truly what the heck
Another Black Man can’t breathe
Dead from a knee pressed in his neck
What’s really going on? Another son not making it home
Another kid without his dad
The country’s tired, fed up and mad
Saggy pants, dreads and even some tats
Make us suspicious and plus we’re black
None of that defines just who we are
This shh… being taken wayyy too far
No matter what’s the name, Eric Garner, Mike Brown
Any kind of Black Man is a target ‘round town
Stop killing our brothers, our husbands, our sons
Please, Please, Please… Stop shooting your guns
They say, “It’s NOT about race”
Well if it’s NOT about race, then it must be about fear
Yet who are we that they fear when they see
The color of a man, black, brown, caramel or tan?
And if it is about fear, then it must be “The Fear of a Black Man”
Because truth be told, it’s NOT the same results
How many times do you hear of a shooting of a “white man”
Just because you “thought” he had a gun?
Or the unarmed white man shot 10 times in the back just because he was running away?
It’s not justice, it’s not fair
It’s not the same everywhere
Where did this fear come from?
Where did it begin?
Is it the power of the color of the skin?
It’s skin deep evident,
being black is an inherent crime
It doesn’t matter whether we
peacefully
stand our ground,
or be siren subservient —
Hands in the air,
knees bent
We get shot seven times,
by a six-shooter
In the back of our mind,
fear is a pride looter
Epidermal evidence suggests,
probable cause is
five fingers of uniform blue grave danger
A click gavel falls trigger quick,
siren verdict be: 1st degree fatal anger
It’s just another casket open-and-shut case,
the latest obituary picture
bearing eyewitness of Breonna Taylor’s face
Like chalk on a blackboard,
we get erased ...
so rap sheet easily
Four-by-for centuries,
our coffin pleas
have been iron fetter ignored
The only asphalt sound
silently heard
are the yellow tape trace words:
“I can’t breathe,”
with our George Floyd face
in the paved dirt
Epidermal evidence historically reveal:
We always got shot seven times,
by a six-shooter
Skin color hatred smoking barrel explode
on a trigger reload
Being black was our genetic crime
Wanting the good life
on the whiter side
of the picket fence
Made former slave cotton-picking sense
Our emancipated thoughts
were escaped equality sought
But votes auction bought,
forced us to tragically be
paddy wagon pellet caught
And when suffrage hope died,
it was our fault —
Runaway tears shed for naught!
Morgue blame sent:
Usual suspect motives be
dreams non-violent
Desiring to be integrated legally
into American society
was our heinous offense
No need for more epidermal evidence
It’s just another cell open-and-shut case,
the latest unarmed picture
bearing eyewitness of Jacob Blake’s face
We repeatedly
get shot seven times,
by a six-shooter
Seems the lawlessness of the land says:
The badge can be
judge, jury
and executioner
Ain’t it blatant epidermal evident,
being black is an egregious, breathable offense
Of which there is no self-defense
We get shot seven times,
by a six-shooter
Perpetrator exit wombs inflicted on
menace to society ghetto we
Aborted justice is our
perforated epidermal eulogy
Being black is a natural-born crime,
evidentiary,
an umbilical sin
It’ll get you pandemic shot seven times,
by a sick, sick six-shooter
Once, long distant calls would cost
You, your friends and family so many voices
had to wait, anticipate the budget and the worth
of words said out loud to ride rapid electric lines.
Still sentiments of love freely fly on telepathic planes
while prose and poetry remain yours truly.
When present face to face do you speak truly?
Conversations branch out, chip, splinter into stories, that's the cost.
Fish stretch past arms' length and record breaking climbs pass clouds and planes.
Tell me again how it all began, how many voices
sang out from heaven: Forgiveness for sale! Limited supply, form lines.
Greedy practice, selling soul's salvation, who figures out what it's worth?
Fear can make us pay the selfish who decide our worth.
Are our souls and spirits make-believe, a magician's trick or God's, truly?
Conversations of belief from heart or scripted lines
brainwashed or sincerely swayed, choice has a cost---
Cross your fingers, chant the scriptures, sing with all your voices
until it's real or a lie you can live with, insured for your departure in heaven's plane.
If a soldier's plane crashes, angelic eagles soar, swoop like planes,
nose dive to every soldier because lives are worth
remembering. Telephones shoot words-- bam, bam, bam, fire voices
on ears that bleed worst fears, shattering those who love them truly.
Nothing will ever be sweet or innocent again, this is an impossible cost.
War kills conversations, steals final farewell lines.
Songs please draw forgiving lines,
to rise over hatred in unarmed planes
for a bird's eye perspective to consider the cost
of love lost in doubt, its worth.
Love lights up any sort of soul, truly.
It's power hurls bolts through nerves that revive the mystic voices...
Devils, misfits, do-gooders, cherubs and chumps-- let's hear all your voices!
Call out to love, it won't resist, will cross any line
to save who is good or bad-- it desires everyone, truly
Here comes the light, hear comes our flight, listen for the plane
Remember it's insane to worry about your worth,
to be, to be, is miracle enough, we can't comprehend the cost.
Solo fly or get in line formation with you plane
Lift off, blast past hatred to reach Love's treasure of unimaginable worth.
Truly precious, so protect it, Love in all your actions no matter what the cost
FALSE CAUSE
Elite few for their political reasons & scheming
in deception drew many feeble fellows with a tint of religious emotion
Men who do evil in the name of good and serve the devil in the name of God
Wonder why we would worship deities if we have to protect them and defend their cause
and their feeble faithfuls faithfully fan a false cause
Boko Haram
Biko Hara'm
You claimed to be anti western education
But you are pro western technology & ammunition
fruits of a failed marriage, the abomination of amalgamation
Men of customized violence & signature blood shed
Lo you've turned a green land red
survivors who once bled are now dead
Boko Haram
Biko Hara'm
You claimed your problem was the government
But you bombed the unarmed and innocent
I know of a place you'll never raze or dent
Too many Mosquitoes standing untouched and fat
Yet you set ablaze a moving Church rat
Which heavens do you connect from your mat
Boko Haram
Biko Hara'm
Some Say you are fanatical and political
Others say your cause is unrealistic, cannibalistic & tribalistic
Whatever the case, I loathe your bloody passion & fashion
You smoked to ashes mother and child
and returned untimely to dust a groom and his bride
Yet some keep mum, others speak in tongues tender and mild
Boko Haram
Biko Hara'm
You double the woes of the Niger-area
and in your folly, threw stones at the market square
You've lost some of your own and soon to be deserted alone
Imagine the opportunities lost at a senseless cost
In my mother-tongue, I bid you to end this wrong
Boko Haram
Biko Hara'm
I have had this burden borne like a laden camel
it is true our beliefs differ in Isaac and Ishmael
Yet i entreat you in the name of our father Abraham
Let folks flock in your pastures without fear of harm
For infected with dirge is my song that is sung
True we do not share a common tongue
But its crystal clear we share a common skin
The victims of your transferred aggression ask,'What is our sin?'
are we the government or the western education so forbidden?
Sheath your explosive swords and let words detonate from your mouth
Remember the support and base of every North is a supplying South
Boko Haram
Biko Hara'm
C'emeka Mbah 9:50am 19/05/2012
To the girl with strawberry earrings, cupcake eyelids and a confetti lined body.
You are beautiful,
but not in the way your first lover told you.
Not in the way of demand action.
To the girl with strawberry earrings, you are so beautiful.
More so than skin deep. More so than in your jeans deep.
Worth more than a pile of meat, you are beautiful
So much more than your "thank you" could ever respond to compliments with.
Beautiful girl, at age twelve you will realize your chest was too small and your stomach too large.
Beautiful girl, he called you. His beautiful girl.
When he left you questioned everything.
A living mystery in young adolescence.
Beautiful girl, with a song in her heart and a story in her eyes.
Wake up.
The strawberry meadows of your mind too quickly became jam; jammed with the other voices.
Entering high school like the gates of Hell.
Burning your body with embers of days your criminals long forgot about.
Beautiful girl, whose apple red cheeks were stained with tears.
Beautiful girl, who forgot how to eat out of fear.
Beautiful girl, who did her makeup charismatically.
Who wore her smile like a pendent upon her chest.
Beautiful girl, you knew better than to open the dam of your mind, for you knew oceans could flood out.
That mind of yours, strangling you in the size of your waist in a dressing room.
Suffocating your chest, no, stuffing your chest to create empty and lumpy illusions.
Making you feel as though you always had something to prove.
Beautiful girl, stop, beautiful girl
Not every room is a battlefield.
Not every mirror a warfront.
The grenade of your mind is pinned to your lips, all you have to do is not pull it.
Beautiful girl, you are a fresh April dew.
You are the alluring scent of rose petals.
You are a star-lit night and a beaming sun rise.
To the girl with strawberry earrings, there is no one chasing you anymore.
You are free
You are as free as the birds up above.
You are untamed and wind blown like the formless shifting cotton of the Heavens.
You are unarmed.
No more pistol to your tongue for the imaginary friends of standard.
Beautiful girl, you are beauty.
To the girl with strawberry earrings, to the girl reading this, you are a beautiful girl.
Form:
A poem by John Nesbitt © 22.11.2013
I was eighteen years old and wanting to fight
I found what I looked for, in bars late at night
I took on the big guys, the small ones as well
They were all tough, as far as I could tell
-
As a jobless young man, proud of my country
I joined up with the army and trained how not to be
They told me I’d fight to keep us all free
So that we’d never have to bend the knee
They trained me in weapons, unarmed combat too
The use of explosives and what they could do
And how to take cover behind rocks and trees
They taught me to find bombs and those I E D’s
-
So step up to the plate boys, start waving the flag
We’ll be all draped with medals when it’s all in the bag
Think of the glory, this conflict will bring
A few months away, then we can all sing
-
On my very first mission, I was told to unwind
I took lead position, when searching for mines
The blast threw me up twenty feet in the air
I couldn’t feel my feet for they were no longer there
My right arm was shattered my left fingers gone
I once had two ears but now only one
I thought I was dying, I couldn’t hear a thing
I wasn’t thinking of the medals or being dressed up with bling
-
Now all I can do is sit here on the floor
and wonder what it all had been for
my comrades call around from time to time
I can see their discomfort when they’re thinking of mine
They wouldn’t trade places, no matter what for
They each have their memories, of that terrible war
My fighting days over, no more blood and guts
So I’ll settle right down in my terrible rut
-
I stepped up to the plate boys and I waved the flag
But I’m not draped in medals and it’s not in the bag
I thought of the glory the conflict would bring
No legs, no fingers and in no mood to sing
-
Things soon will be over in Afghanistan
Talks are on-going with the Taliban
We struggled against them for thirteen hard years
But all we produced was billions of tears
Fathers lost sons and Mothers lost child
business got rich, there were deals on the side
Where’s the next country they’ll start a new war
Persia?
Korea?
Let’s hope….. it’s…. not ….yours
A wounded soul was seeking help.
Who was there to aid him?
You were set before me with a need.
I had the means to help and gave you nothing.
Wounded and bleeding
in the mist of a pack of wolves I left you.
I saw the hurt in your eyes and in your heart,
from the attacks they had done to you, and still I did nothing.
Knowing that they would sniff out the wounds,
I left you unarmed and unprotected.
Surrounded by merciless wolves
seeking those they may devour,
because of my own fears and weaknesses,
to them, is where I left you.
I did not attempt to lift you up out of the blood-drenched dirt
To clean your wounds, I offered only a bandage
A bandage to cover what I did not want to see.
I am ashamed that I have left behind a bleeding brother in Christ.
Please forgive me!
I failed you, .... I failed my Lord.
If you allow me,
I will do what I can to help you
Clean your wounds so the Lord may heal them.
I will lift you up to the Lord in prayer
Asking the Lord, that He may pour
His healing balm over you.
By God’s leading, you will walk past the snarling fangs
and no longer be harmed.
For you are a child of God, and
He watches over all that He loves.
Even those of us when we fall short,
and when we fail each other, He ALWAYS is there.
He sees the godly man, the righteous man,
the gentle and loving man that lives within the spirit.
His sight goes deeper than what man can see.
I pray someday ours also will see that deep.
I thank God, that He waits for us to see our mistakes,
and gives us the chance to do right by our brother or sister in Christ.
He gently pricks our heart until we submit and ask,
‘what is it You would have me do, Lord?’
I ask you, dear brother, for your forgiveness.
Please give me the chance to be of help.
Prayers for you are sent heaven bound.
Know that you are loved by God.
You are prayed for by one whose heart is broken
by the conviction of my failures.
Be not ashamed of where you were brought back to life from,
instead rejoice loudly, dance for the Glory of God
For He has come upon you and saved you!
Give God the glory that is rightfully His!
Everyone is searching for answers in the midst of current tragedies
Two unarmed black men and five white cops gunned down mercilessly
Black in Americans are incensed over the slaying of so many black men
But the answer is not the killing of white cops to make it even
Yet there is very little sympathy or justice when a black man is slayed
But if a white cop is shot a social uproar is on full display
Dear America I need you to comprehend it's about the economy
As there's not enough to go around for the majority
The economical and political climate of Jesus's time is just like today
Where the poor and downtrodden are hopeless, harassed and totally dismayed
The system then and the system now continues to perpetrate
A class of low income and disenfranchised who can never formulate
A means to attain any kind of status or develop any wealth
Living in substandard conditions which affects their self worth
Oppressed, depressed and totally distressed
Never to ever experience any form of progress
And until there is progress for all there will be economic strife
And until there is true equality there will be no peace in life
We need to address the ideology that systemically demonizes
And remember America was founded with violence and needs to realize
That African Americans will no longer sit quietly
and see our people be killed everyday
No justice, no peace and we will have our say
We are all children of the most high God
He loves us all and has us in His heart
You are no better than me and I'm no better than you
And the color of our skin doesn't make that less true
Dear America I hope you come to comprehend and understand
That all lives do matter be you a Caucasian or a Black man
Dear America we need to be like Jesus and have true compassion
With a desire to make positive change its time to take action
Dear America I need you to open your eyes and truly see
That there is no more plantation occupancy
Black Americans are now educated and many economically sound
We are no longer your property so stop trying to tear us down
We are more than conquerors we are survivors
and we claim the victory
Its time for you to let go of that slave owner mentality