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Lon Wartman Poem
“Blizzard”
Thundering down the valleys
Tearing across the plains
Ten thousand steel horses
Their nostrils spitting steam
Bodies tense with anger
The bastard Boreas
Coming to claim his script
A monstrous armada
Assembled in the Dakotas
Let loose its cannons
In the Nebraska hills
Raining yellow dust
From hell in the early
Morning light.
Huge nightmarish clouds
Filled the sky
Mother cows braying
Horses stomping
Jack rabbits scurrying
Black birds fleeing
Weather man says
Storm on the rise
Laden with dynamite
Screaming and howling
Whipping and pounding
Bashing and thrashing
The ten thousand came
Their hatred brewing
Their ears laid back
The demons raged
The man ran inside
His adobe home
The door refused to close
The shutters shook
The tar papered roof
Began to tear
A mother feared
The trees bent
The angry winds raged
Tearing them apart
Limb by limb
A blinding “Blizzard”
The brown dirt turned white
As mountainous drifts grew
The insanity of it all
Off to school
Nineteen children went
In old Chevy bus
Card boarded windows
Lost in a ditch
That bastard Boreas
Claimed his script
A monument now sits
Frozen in time
It was 1931
Towner, Colorado
Inspired by
Towner Bus Tragedy “Lost in a Blizzard” (March 26, 1931)
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2021
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Lon Wartman Poem
I Rise
I open the windows of my humble adobe
I breathe in the mountain air
I make a pot of coffee
Then read the News...
Recession, inflation
Homeless, addiction
Waste on our streets
Men and women on the mall
Lead in the air
Another one falls
Rifles galore
Rockets hit Kyiv
Russia waring
Men take aim, insanely proud
Little ones dying
Africa starving
Immigrants waiting
Refugees seeking
It makes me ill
I open the windows more
I breathe in the mountain air
I see deer in the meadow below
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2022
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Lon Wartman Poem
Day-211 “A Simple Kiss”
There’s a weed in my back yard
It’s tall and lanky
It’s black, mean and ugly
I’ve chopped it down
three times today
each time I turn
it flares up again and again
As I was scratching my head
wondering what to do
along came a little boy
with a candy cane smile
Howdy Mr. Smith!
I see you’ve been
working hard today
just, what is it you are trying to do?
I’m trying to rid my yard
of this pesky o’l weed
I’ve chopped it down
three times today
each time I turn
it flares up again and again
With a twinkle in his eye
and a grin on his face
He said.
I betcha I can rid
it from your yard?
Would you let me give it a try?
Sure said I
If you do I’ll give you a smile
With that the little boy
with the candy cane smile
ran to my back yard and
planted a kiss on that ugly o’l weed
To my utter amazement
it wilted and died
right there on the spot
My Goodness! Said I
How on earth did you do that?
What is this magic you possess?
Where upon the little boy
with the candy cane smile
Said
You kill hate with kindness
Mr. Smith
Now, may I have my smile?
Lon 1/09/2021#315
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2021
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Lon Wartman Poem
The Killing Fields”
Stepping across these bodies
Makes me ill
Pools of blood stitched
In the soles of my shoes
Body parts dripping from
Walls where bullets passed
She went to school that day
Skipping and laughing along the way
Gunfire from hell
Unleashed in a fury of hate
For no reason at all
Convenient it seems
Seven year old girl
Face half gone
Her mother weeps
They did nothing
Stepping across these lifeless forms
Makes me ill
Rivers of blood
Stain the asphalt
Two lovers embraced
In death
Bullets passed through
Denying them life
They went to a concert that day
Joking and laughing along the way
Gunfire from Hell
Rang down from above
For no reason at all
Convenient it seems
Their parents weep
They did nothing
Stepping across these mangled forms
Makes me ill
Bodies slumped over
In wooden pews
Riddled with bullet holes
Bibles in their hands
They went to pray to Jesus
Thinking everything right
Gunfire from hell
The open front door
All are welcome
Convenient it seems
Jesus weeps
They did nothing
Stepping across these mutilated forms
Makes me ill
Bleeding bodies
Screaming kids
Bisected limbs
Coughing up blood
It was their first date
Popcorn and cokes
Gunfire from hell
Came from the stage door
Down the aisles he strutted
Convenient it seems
Defying reason
They did nothing
Don’t you understand
What doing nothing
Has done?
Complicit you are
No leadership you show
Your arrogance defies wisdom
Don’t you give a damn?
Maybe, if the dead
Were one of yours?
No??
I’m going to guess
You’re too %#&! vain
Makes you guilty as well
Stepping across these bodies
These bodies covered in blood
These bodies without faces
Ties a knot
Deep in my heart
Makes me ill
Blankets cover the dead
We don’t have to look
Yet we’re part of the scene
Living in fear
These killing fields
Make me ill
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2023
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Lon Wartman Poem
Day-248 “Winter’s Wrath”
From out of the north
The cold winds blew
Hell’s inferno turned blistery cold
The Devil himself all
Bundled in ice coated steel;
His snarly, crackling laughter
Piercing the barren air.
His staff, a brazened fork,
Pierced all who ventured out
Searing holes in sockless shoes.
His razor sharp eyes
Turned pathways glazed
To monstrous graves.
Eternity could not be worse
This inferno from the north.
From out of the south
The warm winds came.
Across the Heavens,
In a chariot of golden sun rays
Pulled by a hundred whited steeds
Apollo took aim.
Over the plains they clashed;
Spears and swords took many a soul
White sheets covered the deadly fields.
The north wind hissed.
The south wind kissed.
Apollo cried out
“My blood runs hot
Forsake me not.”
From his scabbard a diamond blade flew
Cutting the breath of that mighty
South bound wind.
He ripped the armor
From the Devil’s redden skin
And turned it to dust; then
Took that angry man’s staff and threw
It to the sea.
With that the skies began to calm
And the wind turned warm.
Above the plains
In the setting sun
Selene stood proud.
As she glazed the sea
With an orangish glow
A smile on her face
For Apollo her man,
Boreas he tamed.
Lon 2/16/2021 #351
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2021
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Lon Wartman Poem
I wrote a poem
A long time ago
It was full of despair
And gray cloudy skies
It made me cry
I then saw a child
Playing in a park
Laughing and full of joy
I wrote no more
Of gray cloudy skies
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2020
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Lon Wartman Poem
A rose grows from my heart.
Its roots run deep into my veins.
Its petals of golden crimson
Bring pleasures to my being.
Its stem of thorny spears
Calms my many fears.
Protects my soul from temptations,
No need for explanations.
Ravishing its fragrance.
Intoxicatingly divine.
As from the pages of Genesis
Drifts far into my senses.
The beauty of a rose.
Likened to Juliet’s prose,
Savors romantic favors
In multitudes of flavors.
Likened to new found love
Awash in blissful lust.
The serenity of the aged
Who perch on evening steps.
Poetic phrases grace
The many pages
Of the love
I have for thee.
Blessed is the love that
Grows from deep within.
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2022
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Lon Wartman Poem
“Lynching”
Black man floating in space
Knotted rope about his face
Crosses burning
White sheets chanting
Black man squirming
Blue knee choking
Buildings burning
Dark nights looming
A noose from a tree
A boot and a knee
A black man dead
No one lead
Gutters vomiting
Jesus faltering
Canisters of tears
Scattering fears
Memories from the past
Recall the last
Nothing changed
Our nation estranged
Horrible brutality
Watching reality
A hang man’s stage
Millions enraged
Dusty roads
A hang man’s noose
Burning streets
A black man pleading
So much the same
It just insane
Equal justice
No longer trusted
Civil unrest
A nation stressed
Yet we care
When tempers flare
Doing it right
With all our might
We all must listen
As rattlesnakes hissen
It begins in the mind
You learn to be kind
We are all blood inside
Where love resides
It is not right
That I am white
And am not black
But my soul is cracked
I FEEL YOUR PAIN....
As George was slain
I watched it all
His terrible fall
Again and Again
Again and Again
A henchman calling
A nation bleeding
Again and Again
Again and Again
Crosses burning
Mindsets never learning
It was a lynching
Lon 6/1/2020
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2021
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Lon Wartman Poem
“Prairie Storm”
The air turned
Deadly still,
The trees no
Longer swayed,
The horses neighed,
The church bells rang
Rabbits ran
For their caves.
Old men rushed
To close their doors.
Storm on the Rise!
Storm on the Rise!
Twister but a mile!
Be here in a while!
Hurry, grab the kids
To the cellar quick.
We haven’t the time
To worry.
It’s coming with a fury
The clouds grew deadly black
As deadly black can get.
Whipping and churning,
Rumbling and growling,
Twisting and swirling,
A tail was coming
With a vengeance it came:
Bolting and striking,
Snapping and crackling,
Exploding and blasting,
The tail kept churning.
The roof from the
Barn was thrown.
The windows in the
House were blown.
The trees ripped
From their roots.
The horses ran.
The rain
Came pounding.
The hail
Came battering.
The wheat field
Turned to straw.
Up from the cellar
The family rose.
The mother poured tears.
The father fell to his knees.
The little ones clung
To mother’s skirt.
There was little left.
His dreams disappeared.
The neighbors
Came calling.
The storm unkind.
He lost his mind.
The church bells rang.
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2022
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Lon Wartman Poem
“Souls and Bodies We’ll Lay Down”
Ominous clouds have
Invaded my soul;
Thrust swords into my heart.
Darker than the midnight air.
Stars gone forever more.
Bloodied hands in my dreams.
I dream not of tranquility
But of lightning and thunder
Pain and hunger.
I pray for your peace
Your hope and honor.
For blue skies and golden wheat.
I pray that your Trident,
Strikes the heart of evil
Bringing this aberration to its knees
Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
I beseech thee please
Save them from this hell.
May your anthem be sung
By all the peoples,
Of all the nations,
Of this world.
I leave you with this heart felt anthem of the Ukraine Nation
Ukraine has not yet perished, nor her glory, nor her freedom,
Upon us, fellow Ukrainians, fate shall smile once more.
Our enemies shall vanish, like the dew in the sun,
And we too shall rule, brothers, in a free land of our own.
Chorus:
Souls and bodies we'll lay down, all for our freedom,
And we'll show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation!
II
We'll stand, brothers, in bloody battle, from the Sian to the Don,
We shall not let others rule in our motherland
The Black Sea will smile and grandfather Dnipro will rejoice,
For in our own Ukraine fortune shall shine again.
Chorus
Souls and bodies we'll lay down, all for our freedom,
And we'll show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation!
III
Our persistence and sincere toils shall be rewarded,
And freedom's song will throughout all of Ukraine resound.
Echoing off the Carpathians, and across the steppes rumbling,
Ukraine's fame and glory shall be known 'mong all nations.
Chorus
Souls and bodies we'll lay down, all for our freedom,
And we'll show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation!
The lyrics of the anthem were written in 1862 by Pavlo Chubynsky – Ukrainian ethnografist, folklorist and poet
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2022
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