Parental perimeters
Rules upon rules
Encage their helpless children
Who have no other life guides
Until the formative years are over
Children are parental pawns
Humans without power
Creatures with no rights
No say so, stuck in cages
At the mercy of parents who have all the power
Dice and pieces, blown on trusses
Numbers and feathers, trots and roaming
Spice with dashes, thrown in sashes
Dots and wreaths, clots and breaths reeming
Nothing is permanent.
Death proves that
In a glaring way
With no apology
Or heartfelt concern for us
She does not creep.
She pounces with a mighty mouth
Devouring our loved ones
Suddenly
And completely
No matter how much we think we are ready
We are not
Death is a reminder
We are not in charge
And we had better enjoy every moment
We can while we still have it.
We are pawns in a game
Where rules are bent,
Crushed,
Broken
And
Smashed.
Death.
Nothing like her.
I am the white pawn
Oh! We meet on the center
You are the black pawn
Some said they lost all hope;
Some did, you saw it in their eyes:
That little light
That shines so bright
Became dull and disappeared.
Some became bitter, some wise,
Some couldn't cope.
That small white
Flicker, once bright,
Slowly went out.
So often that is what I see
In eyes, even on TV,
and I recognise,
For I was there.
I was where
I did despise
What back then became of me.
With everything taken away,
Including your humanity,
And nothing remains
But empty shell,
Sheer hell.
And too tired for complaints.
This terrible insanity
Of war, how some people play
With others as if simple pawns
On a chess board.
With hands high,
To move at will.
Freezing chill...
I still have no reply,
And have no vocal chords
Left to speak up... When will it dawn
On them we're human entities!
Where oh where is my identity...
Why would a deity ask you to kill, If their power was really so great?
Why would a deity grant you free will but then give you a pre-ordained fate?
If your god and my god were really at war there’d be reason for us both to grieve,
But why would our gods need us both to fight if they truly are what we believe?
The people who spread this strange message are mongers of hatred and fear,
Who prey on our faith and religion to further their worldly career.
They sell to you visions of glory and rewards to be gained after life,
But there's no risk to them you will notice, from a bullet a bomb or a knife.
None of us here doubt your courage, or thinks that you fear being dead,
What we doubt are your reasons and motives and the flames being fanned in your head.
Don’t give up your life for these jackals, politicians in religious dress,
There isn’t a war that needs fighting so don’t be a pawn in their chess.
Pawns Brokers
“Grit is a better word or term”.
They have it – these “Grunts” - grit –
that sandpaper bearded coarseness
structure in the face of fallacy,
backbone to support the flaws
of the wishy-washy conspirators.
Perseverance in the face of punishments
wet boots and leaky tents,
rubbers to cover “rifles and guns”,
tenacity in the face of tedium,
the character, will, and fiber of freedom
melded into unified intent,
a molten steel adapting
in the face of resistance.
They are the “grit” -
dirt, gravel, pebbles, stones –
assembled, mixed, imbedded,
into the foundation of flexibility.
G I’s, ground infantry, “grunts”,
foot soldiers, men, women,
volunteers in a world of privilege
honoring history’s forebears.
First brazen move of chessboards
unseen pawn brokers, last weary
card thrown in game of war.
“Brothers” – back to back –
protections tough guys
carrying the weight
of battle’s lies.
12/22/2015
submitted to ---------IS A BETTER WORD – Poetry contest
sponsor – Verlena S. Walker
The faded shacks stretch 'neath the stained grey sky,
As stagnant urine and disease creep in.
Hunched at the pyramid's tight base we lie;
Looked down upon by our superiors.
In this poor life we’ve been condemned to die;
Forever stuck in our unwanted caste!
Our tummies are filled with what can’t be sold,
Our hopes and dreams just playful fantasies.
Drained from its soothing warmth, the Earth feels cold.
Where, I ask you are the democracies
That stop worthless things like me getting sold?
We’re all just pawns, broken by society.
Unlike the wealthy, we’re easy to find;
We are the untouchables of mankind.
4/3/2015
A pawns vision is
Not to be sacrificed but
To someday be queen
A pawn in the game
A bet on the table
To you I'm just a name
To me, you're the gamble
Place the bid high
I play to win
Cause when I hold the deck
Your feelings will spin
Now the tables have turned
It's your heart, my hands
So toss the dice again
And hope in your favor it lands
In the end, I'm just a pawn
You're still just the bet
But now I'm the checkmate queen
Of a jackpot you'll never get
It might be cliche but we must right all our wrongs.
Bringing downfall to the susceptible ones.
I know I am not.
One to preach.
But truth and dignity, from which I Believe.
Come old faithful one.
Enlighten by my Sun.
Shaping the fortunes for worlds to come.
Denying all grief.
For I am the beholder of Sum.
Stray away from paths, less likely to fall.
Bring forth the witnesses, From Empires to Pawns.
So come old fateful one.
Lord soon, Day
You will become.
I am a man of my word.
Songs of Rapture amongst patrons.
Prosperity for all, who kneel to the sounding drums.
Pawns play
Two accidents in Queensland
reminder to two pawns,
both owned by the super rich
two crawlers had been warned,
to change their ways to good of will,
stop persecuting their brother/sister till,
not be so paltry, reject still,
the evil of their master.
Fair play is no disaster.
Or is nastiness really your will,
‘Sow then of course you’ll reap,’
The master’s lies, are for the dills,
The downward path you keep,
So just keep on slip a sliding,
10,000 public servants sacked,
no black hole said Costello,
the half grin smile on the dial,
but relatives get work backing.
This no surprise?
Conflict of interest, changes the law,
The leader owns, but he wants more,
Corruption coming Fitzgerald saw,
The rules are there for writing.
Some fool, the self is lighting,
fire of subtle judgement score,
Igniting.
Don Johnson
Pawns traveling east....
Rapier movements ceased
Casualties increased
Pawns' swords shown bright
Frightened enemy take flight
Victory in sight
we were just pawns in there game our lives will never be the same they played with our lives
like it was there game made me think i was to blame when all along we were just pawns in
there game no matter what i did it didn't change a thing we were just pawns in there sick
little
game they set me up to take the fall knowing all along id lose it all i was blind i fell for it all
we were just pawns to them our lives meant nothing at all they knew from the start they
could
play me for a fool they knew they had the power to cause they had you there was nothing i
could do but play there game what choice did i have i loved you they used the love i had for
you to keep us apart they did it an watched me fall apart an when they knew i was torn apart
id give in an they get what they wanted we were just pawns in there sick little game they
played with our lives like it was there game
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