Long Warmongers Poems
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The pulse stops beating,
Slowly at first
The heart starts weeping
For it has lost its thirst
For life, as it is today
The World has gone mad
And many people
Have lost the will to stay
In a world full of trouble and pain
Mainly caused by man
What did we have to gain
I don't think this was God's plan
With so many in the World,
We will never get perfect peace,
Is it too much to expect?
For HUMAN BEINGS to release
Their emotions
And bottle up their grief,
Because they think there's nothing
To give their hearts and souls relief.
The pulse of life slows down,
When all goes to pot
Warmongers have gone crazy
And completely lost the plot,
What they don't seem to realise
Or if they do, they do not care,
There is a strong possibility
Our world will not exist out there.
The writing is on the wall.
The writing is on the wall, an old saying used even until today
for those found lacking or deficient, Divine judgement is on the way
It means that there has been a weighing done on the scales of justice
by an impartial God who knows us, and the good or bad we practice.
The writing is on the wall even today, in our ultra modern society
for those who choose critical and independent thinking, instead of piety
for those who deny there is a God, or who simply worship in their own way
for those whose judgemental hypocrisy is super abundantly on display
The writing is on the wall, for all warmongers filled with nationalistic hate
For all those inciting our youth to violence, malevolent voices that resonate
The writing is on the wall, for those who say good is bad, and that bad is good
and for those who kill the innocent child, it's well deserved and understood.
Writing on the wall comes from the Bible Daniel chapter 5 where the Babylonian King is judged by God's handwritten cryptic message on the wall. The prophet Daniel interprets the writing and the King was killed and replaced that same evening. Consequently the expression the writing on the wall portends judgement and destruction.
John Derek Hamilton
April 19, 2016
Peace, peace, and sincere peace
We all wish, dream and confuse about peace
Are we really serious, thirsty and hungry for peace
Even though the gunships and cannons are set and ready
To go, to attack the weak and the imagined enemies?
Do we truly want a world of brotherly harmonies?
Yet, superpowers invest their time, ingenuity, and moneys
In smart drones, powerful guns and well-trained armies
Are we sure that we want lasting peace?
This world is made of corrupt goons, polygamists, liars and bullies
Warmongers are hypocritical, strange, sneaky and devious
This agitprop about peace is delusional headlines or breaking news
To startle or to dimwit elderlies, idealists, and crying babies
Politicians are godawful sensationalists on steroid
Where muzzled reporters and anchors are ridiculed and toyed
By elected pogromists in search of free publicities
Yet, yes we yearn for peace and tranquility in the burgs and cities
Peace is about coming with clean and caring hands
To share the streams, the land, the sand and the highlands.
the only real winners in conflicts ~ are the arms manufacturers
*
bombing campaigns don't ensure victory ~ people's resolve is stronger
*
wars are expensive for everyone involved ~ peace costs you nothing
*
why are schools and hospitals always targeted ~ they cannot fight back
*
Just because others do not share your views ~ doesn't mean that they are wrong
*
history remembers the warmongers ~ but why not the peacemakers
*
talks about ceasfires and peace are futile ~ without trust and compromise
*
lennon and plastic ono band sang give peace a chance ~ so why don't we
*
why do all the despots in the world ~ have weapons of mass destruction
*
skeletal buildings a dreary landscape ~ once thriving communities
Written 14th April 2026
Half-breed Hades and his helter-skelter handmaiden
Abysmally arrogant abase audaciously
Larcenous liaison of Lucifer’s love children
Lashing lepers in a legendary labyrinth
Ostracizing and obliterating others
Wailing wretchedness while warpainted warmongers
Earmark eerie entities for evil escapades
Endorsing the eager envoy for entanglement
Noxious narcissistic nauseating necropolis
Macabre masquerade of merciless marauders
Oblivious outcasts overwhelm outrageously
Owning the occult offering obituaries
Nefarious nocturnal neighbours nether and nigh
AP: 2nd place 2022, 3rd place 2020, Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on September 22, 2017 for contest HALLOWEEN SCARE sponsored by RUSSELL SIVEY - RANKED 2ND
The Chicken and the Egg
Woke up fearing the blood sugar
was too low, so I went into the kitchen to get something to eat
found under a platter, a small fried chicken leg
I thought chicken legs were getting smaller and smaller
They must kill the chicken as soon as they get out of the egg
Not a chance for them to be yellow, innocent babies
as painted on the wall in the pre-school visited by a
32-year-old veteran of 8 wars.
It goes without saying that veterans are heroes defending
say, America, from being invaded by all and sundry
But we know the war they fight and often die for is
in the service of warmongers and Israel
Generations of warmongers spew their lies
outward into the waiting abyss of greed
as the adult throng of drones
buzz the factories and the farmlands,
carpenter ants wasting the bounty of mother earth.
And we ..children of the flower children screamed
“Hell NO we won’t go!”
We burnt draft cards and bra’s
freed from the tit by the acid dreams of Leary
we rose, ran, flew, with flags on our arses.
On campus’s we marched
bandana’ed brethren, fuzz busters
picket carrying freedom fighters, a blaze
with a hatred for everything and every one
establishment…
and the establishment killed.
Killed its own children
at Kent State and got away with it.
As napalm dropped over naked children
in Vietnam, the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius
rang from the rafters of Broadway.
Naked as the day we were born
coated in the honest to God mud of
a farmer’s field in Woodstock, we danced.
And we still marvel that Nero fiddled
while Rome burned.
Where are our children now?
Still fighting ..still drones, still bombing
Still ‘liberating’ the oil fields around the world.
Still raping mother earth.
And the beat drones on…………..
Today I'm learning the name
of war refugee camps,
in Congo, Rwanda, Palestine, Lebanon,
Turkey, Syria, Yemen, you name it,
and the children who play hide and seek
in charred automobiles, shivering in cold
and starvation behind the barb wires, thanking
the good Samaritans clothed in peace.
Today I'm signing Lennon's Imagine,
imagining those children swapping their places
even for a day, with your rich suburb kids
whose fathers profit from arms, to see them
recruited as child soldiers, putting their war game skills
to good use.
Today I'm laying siege to warmongers and their kins
who love peace and practice war, the true artisans of
hypocrisy.
Being given the pen is supposedly mightier than the sword
And knowledge is king
How is it then that the hall's and
positions of power and official office
Are so often filled by warmongers
and people who can barely string
a legible sentence together
Have similar defining characteristic
in common
Like or such as deep pockets
powerful friend's prestigious
family and an unfathomable
impairing stage presence or
in front of a camera or audience
Maybe that's why actor's make
great or the best politicians
Because in reality it's mainly
hitting a mark, smiling, acting, following direction and reading
whatever script or line's are placed
in front of you
Merely a puppet not the master
in control of the strings
And when things go wrong as
they so inevitably do and end up
getting fired and hung out to dry
And it doesn't matter because with
my pay off and pension i leave
richer than in my wildest dreams
With so much money it would take
2 lifetimes to spend and every
single cent well earned
And you take that and cash it at
any bank
And if God forbid it does run out
i can instantly double it overnight
By simply releasing my memoirs
in hardback
Or disclosing the exact location
where Saddam Hussein's actually
hid Iraq's
Weapons of Mass Destruction
Surely they must be worth a pretty
penny given we went to war spent
trillions of dollars and countless
soldiers lives in order to find them
Insidious, insipid, id-inebriated imbeciles
incite impetus into inevitable immolation.
Bombast, bluster and bluff: blunt batons of barbarian bullies;
backwards behaviour blackballs baronial breed's burdens and bonds.
Weasely, willy-waving warmongers wage wanton war of words
without wit, wisdom or worldliness, whilst we weakly watch and wait.
Regrettable, repugnant reprobates ravage refined realms with
reprehensible rapier-rattling and rancid rhetoric.
Clash of corrupt, contemptible cutthroats carves calamity 'cross
continents and culminates in catastrophic conflagration.
Pointless predatory and political power-plays pale as
pirouetting pariahic pyres patently a pyrrhic prize.
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(16 syllables on every line, checked with howmanysyllables.com)
14 October 2017