All this trouble waging war
is what this world is looking for,
should they write to one another
and not let us out to suffer,
maybe writing up some verse
but nice words seem to be scarce,
should they maybe get a muse
with its looks make them amuse,
an ambassador we shall need
to show love and lesser greed,
I’d appoint someone like you
Soft and sweet like winnie pooh,
It would surely cut the stress
And with peace clear out this mess
Silver and rust flash
clash, crash
in the steam-drenched air
Muskets fire, reload, re-fire
deadly pea-shooters
drowned out by cannons’ roar
Blood-stained, smudged tatters of uniforms
soak up a blazing sun
in shimmering mists of collision
Trumpets' blare swallowed in air
fiery tempers, outsized nostrils flare
'bravery's' spelled F-O-O-L-I-S-H out there
Orders barked, flail, fall
flat upon sagging shoulders
of men, like dogs, tongues panting
Still the silver, yet the rust
high above the fray
where 600,000 dead men lay
_______________________________________
Various sources cite total soldiers'
deaths as low as 400,000-something
and as high as 800,000-something.
The most common estimate seems
to be about 620,000 deaths.
resting up
breathing in and out
cards folded up
all’s quiet
silence is deafening
dreams are deep
coffee’s steep
grounds heavy
not a peep
except for in and out
through nostrils and mouth
the count is loud
brave, grave
dreams last
until a blast
of a brash trumpet
clash of night’s skeleton sentinel
and day’s nightmarish gore
waking up
to close one’s eyes once more
Earth steals
the Moon's shine
curving line
sun-cast torn form
a divine misery.
Throw Heaven's
human scheme
hemmed within
the earthly show
fairer than the skies.
(Blackout of At a Lunar Eclipse by Thomas Hardy)
when a heated argument finally ends
has anybody won
when the fight’s to the finish
seems both sides are done
when the smoke of battle clears
few and hollow are the cheers
when the war goes on and on and on
~ so does the con
Peace is the natural state
The source of rest and the result of entropy.
It is the zero point
Where everything comes and goes.
How do we know this?
Just look at our lives.
Each day ends and begins with sleep
The state of renewal without conflict.
Conflict comes naturally enough
In pursuit of our goals,
Position, power, procreation,
And all the things that support it.
Conflict arises from peace
Like ripples on the surface
Obscuring the mirror clear image.
Conflict is the first step,
But by the end
It is all that’s left,
Rage and frustration, chaos and division
With peace eclipsed.
Where is the natural peace then?
Where is the rejuvenating sleep
At the end of that day?
Waiting, simply waiting
As it is
Its nature to do.
(10/6/26)
There to seize the day, ten thousand strong
Thru ramparts ravaged, by savage throngs
So they raised their flag, and sang their songs
Ten thousand soldiers, would march along
In cadence count, on account of wrong
The Colonel shouts, Boys! we'll march till dawn
With heartened hearts, meshed with steel sarongs
Ten thousand soldiers, that march like Kong
Their shadows shortened, like the day is long
Soon nearer death, but now the Colonel's gone
They were not so clear, where they belonged
Bewildered soldiers, lost voice for song
Swore to fight the fight, but thought it wrong
As a fearsome force, awaited dawn
Still, they breached the fray, ten thousand strong
Only one tin soldier...marches on!
In the interests of sanity.' In a service to
Humanitarian wellbeing..Would you halt
All oil and gas exports.? Until the heat dies in the chests of those who need validation' who revel in power.' And exist
For blood-lust, though the impact would be harsh.' It will be better than more war.'
It should not be as it is.' Life is able to give
So much better, than fear, threats and death, if you are truly sincere.? Mr Putin.
This is as good an action as any.' All blessings to all readers, may war become
Recognised as obsolete.' May peace be
The much valued prize.'
Anyone who’s lived on a farm
Or raised their own pets knows
That sometimes it’s kinder to put it down
Than to let it suffer in vain
Or spread its disease to others.
It’s the harsh reality of animal husbandry,
But they are animals after all
At least that is what we can tell ourselves
To make the difficult choices
A little easier to bear.
Western civilization is at a similar point
Needing to make the hard choices to survive.
Fortunately those we have to put down
Are also just animals, not yet fully human
As they spread their disease of chaos and hate.
Who are they you may ask?
Just look around, their words are clear,
And their actions speak even louder
And if you can’t tell who is who, just look
At their costumes, it makes for an easy target.
(10/5/26)
Keeping SCORE of those at WAR who tend to ROAR
That MORE is NEEDED as dangers' HEEDED by those CONCEDED who FIGHT for some deceptive RIGHT
Just out of SIGHT of PARITY or CLARITY
A promised LAND, the upper HAND, to UNDERSTAND
A life so BLAND with POOR excuse in CORE beliefs that never won BEFORE will REAPPEAR for those so NEAR in the Devils EAR to JUSTIFY the reasons WHY
They feel DESPAIR so must DECLARE conflict from a STARE
A RARE confession they just want PEACE so must RELEASE this injust BEAST
For crazy as it SOUNDS their war has got no BOUNDS settled on the GROUNDS of THOSE the fighters CHOSE
What will be WON when all is DONE in the fading SUN
As the GUN falls to the FLOOR can you simply IGNORE the surrounding UPROAR
You were once on TOP but when you STOP you cannot DROP the FEARS of all those TEARS
The fightings END with lives to SPEND a loss you can't PRETEND
To BEND the rules and MAKE it fit a TAKE of your creation, for the SAKE of PEACE you must learn RELEASE recognising PLEAS
What is the NEED to SUCCEED
Barely old enough to walk
With rifles in their hand
The children lost in battles
They don't even understand
Hollowed eyes of horror
Toy soldiers, all must fall
Broken bodies ruined
Lined up against the wall
A night a-flame.
A hellscape.
Upswirling, upscreamed. Which none
Can escape.
Flash after flash.
Devil cheers.
In the rising smoke Man's true
Foe appears.
Run
She marched.
No shoes,
just marched —
grey patches on her legs,
stiff and hard.
Metal watching from above,
nowhere to hide,
just to walk.
She cannot sit,
she has to write.
The world must listen to the cries,
but how long can she survive?
The buzzer alerted.
It landed —
landed on her with a thud so wild.
Pen in her hand.
Pen was her guide.
The free press is free
Unless it says something wrong
Then it is not free
* * *
He read the whole terms
He agreed to sell his soul
The font was too small
* * *
War is on the news
The anchors all wear nice suits
We change the channel
Time i see it not.' Yet its journey has yet not stopped' if two hundred years were
The span of your days.? You would read
Better, the woes of each age' failing this
Hit the history trail, if more did; could we have
Less seething, or tantying, or railing rage.? Look at 1853; 56.' You might get to learn of dark tricks, 1910 a time of Spanish flu, 1914 and a war just grew? Forty one years untill the second go.' To clear out
fachists is the way it did go.' 1965 we got
Into nam..' right after the Korean one
damn! con-vid has been and gone
If you were two hundred now you
would have lived through every, one..Maybe you can see a pattern now, old europe can be a greedy sow, many world leaders, on puppet strings, its not just a theory, things
Turn to similar in our timeframe again, convid has been and gone' old europe eyes Crimea again..For you see a stratagist, once said who rules there, holds the world, in a
pillory, Fred or charlie or wally? Or who.? Can't you see
On which foot is the shoe.' I suggest you find out really fast, or your jacksie, might
Get one up it? way too hard' and, quite fast.'
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