Long World war Poems
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True Christmas Miracle True Story Full version written by Wendy Horder. 2020
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
We're in the midst of trump times and
We need to understand
That that individual in the White House
Is not a righteous man
He's all about division, discord
And disarray
And when a domestic terror act occurred
He did not have much to say
White nationalists staged a rally to keep
A confederate statue in place
No regard and no respect for any other
Ethnicity nor any other race
A group of anti- protesters were in a
Peaceful march as well
Until a nationalist in a car mowed them down
Causing utter hell
We're in trump times the country's
Moral barometer has done a reverse
We're in trump times trust and believe
It can only get worse
Threats against the North Koreans
Who are launching potential weapons to kill
Instead of using diplomacy
Trump wants to assert his will
On the precipice of what could
Possibly become world war 3
What should we do?
What are our spiritual strategies?
One, we would do well to accept
The invitation from Christ our Savior
To worship, witness and walk
With a Christlike behavior
We need God to remind us
That we are not alone
And never ever forget that its He
Who sits on the throne
God is in charge He's still in control
Hopefully He'll work on presidents
Trump and Kim Jong Un souls
Two, we need gather together in
Remembrance of He
Jesus the Christ who died
To give us the victory
To eat of the bread and drink of the wine
Remnants of His body and blood
To examine our own hearts
And acknowledge His unconditional love
To stay in touch with reality
To remember our past and our pain
Of the slavery that is still on American
A badge of shame
Let us never forget
what has come to pass
Let us never forget Jesus
and the love for us He has
For when we remember we reestablish
All truths and how they came to be
And no tweet will erase nor change
The true reality
Trump talks about fake news
But free press will prevail
As only free press stops a nation from
Becoming a dictatorship from hell
Spiritual strategies for trump times
We need to realize
We need to stay united
And keep our eyes on the prize
Let us never forget the blood
That was shredded and the sacrifice
Let us never forget that for our sins
Jesus gave His life
Let us look past skin color
And ignore race
Let us remember God
Who gave us His infinite
Mercy and Grace
My first poem on the soup:
Honouring the Wartime Dead
They fought with grit to save the nation,
From poverty, squalor and infidelity,
And when they marched it was the Nazi’s or them,
Who would suffice to keep their dignity.
The Second was really over the same as the First:
The freedom and equality that democracies offer;
Hitler was not to rule the freethinking lands,
Which representative governments quietly did proffer.
Their Ladies’ which, it was said, almost flew themselves,
Were engineered by women as superior planes;
Through dogfight and bullet, over occupied territories -
The pilots exploded German ammunition trains.
In Response to My First Poem
As a child of four and five,
And right through my early primary years,
My dad talked at dinner about the war,
And of his wartime distresses and fears.
But a few times when I was really young,
He took an arm chair and gave voice,
To how he felt and dealt with his posting,
And that it was his and only his choice.
It was just him and me who had discourse,
So I dug as hard as I could but gave him his space,
For just exactly how he’d enlivened,
The plane of his of which he was an ace.
He called it to me his lady,
And from then on I understood how to handle,
Planes and all kinds and tech and devices:
That you should respect them and tangle.
He told me what the two world wars meant,
And suggested sexual sterilisation was at stake,
And that it was grit which retained the dignity,
Of the western world which did quake.
I am a political, scientific and atheistic poet,
And wished to allude to that with my first poem,
That I love poeticising culture and technology:
Computers and all that, ‘cos I know ‘em.
As a child of four or five,
I promised myself to give back to him somehow,
Most definitely in the form of a literary poem,
That knowledge he’d imbued in me, his dow.
The poem Honouring the Wartime Dead,
Also quietly murmurs atheism’s practical arms,
As my dad had quietly admonished mindset and action,
Without any reservations or qualms.
I hope that on the soup,
You find from me a good read,
Enjoyable but educational and with a view,
That lets you tell the bloom from the weed.
29/9/2015
For the A Response to my First Poem contest by Silent One.
When nighttime comes
I long for a kiss
from my partner’s sweet sucking lips
to make me forget the craziness around me
When I wake up at nighttime
I want to eat fried chicken
to quell my upset spirit
and calm my anger
I don’t know why conservative politicians who have so much are so unhappy denying families food stamps and safe shelter.
Right-wing politicians have not a warm heart that beats human. Do
they know what their malevolent thoughts and acts do to people?
They hurt the lives of the fast dwindling American middle class
however, with gorged bellies they expand their bank accounts.
This is not the way to represent Americans honestly, ignoring the neediest while showering opulence on the wealthy
Greed is at the politician's core;
always wanting more and more.
Americans work hard to provide for their families
politicians should do no less for the working American.
The American voter should be more compassionate.
We are not a young country anymore, we have no excuses.
It is time to make our hopes real by acting as a mature nation and fulfilling the promises of the Constitution.
Countries racing toward the precipice of total world war
can no longer assume the position of sole earth owners.
The word for the century is share as there is plenty for everyone
especially the poor and working people.
It has nothing to do with who works harder or is the wisest.
it's about politicians working together for the people who pay their salary and to share life's resources equally
and to stop wasting our nation's treasure.
Above all, cease creating wars and killing people in our name
understand that time does not stand still, it moves on with or without us and remember history does not look kindly on corrupt nations
It is our offspring that are important for tomorrow's world.
Congressional GOP leaders disregard people's welfare at their peril; doomed to eternal hell for greed from which there is no escape, led by a corrupt, narcissistic, misogynistic, misanthropic criminal president that bodes an ill wind that offers no good for nobody.
A criminal wanna-be president today has no place in American politics and must be banned for all time
Americans scream it's a new beginning so no, not no. but hell no!
We won't go ... back!
True Christmas Miracle
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
In the deepest shadows of life,
we threatened to disappear from inside and die from outside due to an endemic or experimental weapon designed to kill or perhaps a designated terrorist sent for a mission from behind closed doors in a lab, who knows? crawling and moving around the world killing. What did they? what did we? And What did I? ever do, to be a scapegoat of your ruthlessly executions, ask me no questions, I will tell you no lies. To some level we tried to contain and mitigate, you disappeared
for a short while Oh! relieved we were!
You reproach in another move
more complicated, hybrid, degenerated and more touch-and-go,
rather perilous enough to clear humanity from the face of the Earth
orphaning many children, widowing a peck of mothers, killing quite a hatful of fathers, robbing off a wat of children from thy mothers and fathers, killing thy sons and daughters, fathers and mothers of this world.
East to west and west to East,
tanks of tears flow for your atrocities. North to south and South to North,
echoes of the grieving hearts are loud heard,
a reflection of the mournful and bleeding world due to your flagitious crimes.
You kill the young and old daily in biggest… some survive you perhaps the lucky who are living like they are dying?
thus, their hearts bleeding for thy cuts of you.
You’re are a lethal war with no guns or ammunitions, Perhaps world war three, a weapon Or designated terrorist hiding and striking with spotless character in our amidst, premeditated terrorist I presume!
Moving in the streets hunting for contacts, killing without empathy and compassion but just cupid and thirsty to attack
leaving families weeping and grieving
while their long faces lugubriously reflecting hidden and unexpressed pain for the uncalled suffering and their throats
gulped with a plethora of vengeance.
Psychological tortures and insanities you bring, we recover No! No!
Our profound supplications are heard by our benign Parent whose hands we are, on Earth to fight knowing that one day you will drop to quietus, that one day we will be just as brilliant and ready for any other attacks of your-like,
but for now, we just blades of grass trying to reclaim the normal, because before you were, we were. I wonder as I wander so God help.
Copyright © Abol Andrew Moses Chrispus 2021
Whar art mine fervent zeal for Marx Brothers?
While figuratively trout fishing
for ideas to write about
analogous (hook, line and sinker)
idea wormed itself into mind with clout
moment of awareness arose
without shadow of doubt.
As a long haired pencil necked teenage geek
zany Harpo, Groucho, Chico ranked as idols
mine most favorite slap stick until I reached
cusp of early adulthood, yet of lately uptick
regarding said comedic acts unexpectedly a
rose, spurring me to revisit adolescent mem
rubble entertainers overarching unstoppable
nostalgic ache for their nonpareil antics did
pang ping pong within mine corporeal esse
Scents trademarked and christened Matthew
Scott Harris, somewhat alleviated watching
courtesy Internet random You Bet Your Life
momentarily experiencing giddiness bursting
with laughter - shy kid relishing hearing quip
lightning fast barbs oft imitated sporting his
greasepaint moustache nsync with cigar size
of small walking stick renown world over an
American iconic figure (+entire motley crew)
lively bunch post World War II boys groomed
since birth begat Minnie Marx (born Miene
Schönberg, 9 November 1864 or 1865 – 13
September 1929) mother and manager of the
Marx Brothers, a family of vaudevillians,
Broadway and film actors, she dominated
band of five boisterous and hilarious brothers
who dominated silver screen more'n nearly 3
4ths century ago sired by patriarch Sam Marx.
No particular rhyme nor reason explains why
aforementioned nitty gritty personal trivia thy
actually more accurately & specifically yours
truly metaphorically unexpectedly did qualify
as teetotaling poetaster to craft poem well nigh
acknowledge inexplicable passion regarding my
heartfelt affection constituting zany wily troupe
linkedin with baker's dozen films iterated wild
3 ringed circus antics did all these years schtick
well lodged within me noggin + gamut of stars
whose career launched during quaint silent film
era albeit (Betzwood, one time, between 1912
and 1924), one of the largest film studios in the
world located in downtown Philadelphia and
their studio lot in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania,
right next to the park, I kid ye not, and... take
look see for yourself by visiting following link.
https://americasbesthistory.com/
spotlight2017-11.html
Everybody says
money is the root of all evil
yet we tried a system of trading
swapping your products, service
for the goods and food you require
imagine the effort required
to make enough trades
to supply your needs for a week
money was created
as an evolution of progress
money in itself is not evil
greed and abuse is evil
Money is just a tool
the lifeblood of society
taking our products
from one person to another
In the human body
every cell receives
the required amount
of blood to survive
yet human society
fails to share
the required resources
of the planet
every cell every human
requires the money
that allows people to survive and thrive
in our progressive world
we all demand our own culture
our own nation
our own country
but we are all human beings
apart of one planet
one world
one human race
granted we all have different ideas
different dreams
we all fight for our children to survive
we all want to enjoy life
we all have our own conflicting needs
but surely between the conflicting needs
we can find a compromise
work towards the dream of peace and equality
to continue down the path of war
Is to create our own destruction
if we release every nuclear bomb
the gas clouds surrounding the earth
would destroy crops nuclear poisoning
putting every surviving human through hell
with today's ability to design automatic weapons
the technology we possess could carry on killing
long after we were all gone
The first world war was created By Gravillo Princip
but the German Kaiser Wilhelm ll
also wanted to build an empire
England was fighting with Ireland
with Germany supplying weapons to Ireland
Russia was not prepared for war
weapons and infrastructure
far inferior to a prepared German Army
The Kaiser believed he could win
instead, he lost his country
Hitler Thought he could win Instead he lost
England went into debt
World war two technology-wise
we went for propeller airplanes
into the creation of jet engines and rockets
weapons of mass destruction and atomic bombs
What would we design with a third world war
automatic weapons artificial intelligence
the science fiction of comic books
could become the reality of our death
think well before we jump into the abyss of stupidity
Throughout history from time to time, our country has gone to war;
they called upon our brave young men to enlist and join the corps.
Some of the men were called by draft; while some enlisted on their own.
They displayed their courage, in either case, and made their presence known.
With the colonists discontent in ‘75 the American Revolution began;
the brave young men fought the British for the right to claim their land.
Over restricted trade rights in 1812, we went to war with Britain once again;
with much of the war, against their strong navy, fought on the bounding main.
The Spanish American War began in 1898 with the sinking of the Maine
The American victory gave Cuba its freedom from the mighty Empire of Spain.
Teddy Roosevelt and his brave Rough Riders charged up Kettle Hill;
The battle cries of the brave young men surely gave the Spaniards a chill.
The sinking of the Lusitania in 1917 brought us into World War I,
and the presence of our brave young men was felt before the war was done.
Our troops with “Black Jack” Pershing at the helm, into the war were lead,
and soon the German army knew, on the Americans they would not tread.
With Japan’s surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in December of ‘41,
Uncle Sam once again called its young men to gather and take up their guns.
From the sands of Iwo Jima to the beaches of Normandy,
they banded together and fought with great valor and won their victory.
Vietnam was a different kind of war, fought by the boomer generation;
And when the war was done the men came home facing an ungrateful nation.
They had banded together and bravely fought and 58,000 died,
and the brave men came home to an unruly mob, a nation with no pride.
If there a common thread in all of our wars, it’s the bravery of our young men;
they answered the call to take up arms time and time again.
They distinguished themselves as they fought with valor, many of them died,
and in our country we have lived in peace and that cannot be denied.
And to the brave men who gave their lives, we will be eternally indebted.
We will never forget what they did for us, their memories forever respected.
The bible passage from the Book of John, brings us to this end;
“Greater love has no man than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.”
The bright orange rugby shirt I had,
When I was fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and seventeen,
Was my trophy and my pride and joy,
Never to be deprived of me,
Even if I complained to my parents or to their friend,
To have been seen to be a boy too much,
Or, in other words, mistaken as a superior person,
With other sociology to fulfil all my wishes.
I was just assertive and intelligent and all that,
A fashion icon, an example to others,
To disabled people or to church young persons,
Who were both the same to me, like each other;
They just wanted to fit into society,
To mark their case for more wheelchair rights,
Or in order to state their reason for believing in god.
I had my identity, my beliefs, and my role models,
Listened to them in respect, with amorosity:
I knew what I wanted to do in life,
And my goals were of course reasonable,
Because they could be achieved no problem, abstractly.
But that was it, and there it was,
Objectively everything sounded fine,
Doable, but what you thought about it,
The practicalities weighed you down,
Taught the string which so dangled entertainingly,
As a condition that was more of a pleasure,
To make, to work out such that your desires happened.
So my bright rugby shirt said it all really,
That I should have my desires and goals,
That I should be met and facilitated in life,
And not my parents or those church leaders,
That I was supposed to follow.
I did not ever have to state my case beforehand,
Before the meetings about my future and care needs,
Because everyone knew I was an atheist,
Able with expression and communication,
Able with much trust for other people.
I was in Germany once with my parents,
Dressed as usual in the clothes that I like,
Without hesitation, care or timidity;
My jumper may not have been bright orange,
But it was still colourful enough to attract attention.
So my parents were embarrassed, particularly my dad,
Who was a war veteran true and sensitive,
And so from then on we hid inside shops,
And even stayed longer in restaurants,
Because all the wheelchair spaces for the cafés,
Were outside those cafés at tables on the pavement;
So we shopped, visited the toilet more, went to museums,
Instead of drinking coffee in the cafés of Berlin.