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IrieSide Nov 2022
In wartime,
our music emerges

tsunami of thought
and consciousness  

our music sings
to the innocent rebellion
Michael Mar 2019
One morning safe in barracks while sitting on the loo,
Our Colonel, who'd put duty first, was wondering what to do.
Now, he'd sounded out the adjutant and the R.S. M.
He'd asked that pair what did they think would occupy the men.
They had answered 'drill, sir. Men love parade ground stuff'.
But the Colonel, after consultation, thought they'd had enough.
Their morale it should be lifted, satisfaction thus enjoyed.
'We must not have the men abused, but gainfully employed'.

Thus, next morning doing block jobs, the diggers were astonished
When told by sergeant of platoon that toilets must be polished.
''Tis for honour and the Company's pride' he'd said to busy soldier
'And pleased it is you'll be my boy before you're too much older.
That instead of stamping feet on square or theory of the gun,
Or concealment from an enemy, or stalking (which is fun),
You will spend your time with elbow grease each morning here with me,
Polishing taps and porcelain and cleaning lavatory'.

So that every week when CO. comes to look at WC.,
Accompanied by the Major and all the powers that be,
And they poke round toilet ledges, check louvred slats for dust,
These expert, fighting officers smelling drains because they must
Ensure their Colonels wish, and we to quench our Major's thirst,
So that of Battalion's toilets it's his that comes in first.
And young, fit, soldier volunteers, now feeling ****** annoyed,
Are to be denied all training to be gainfully employed.

But enough of silly moralising, holier than thee.
Who finally beat up all the rest for champion company?
Well, that was Sergeant Kusba, who were a devious swine.
He'd doctored water closets so they smelled like table wine.
Well, 'twer lemon essence really, after which one could not flush.
And a secret guard on toilet bowls to ward off morning rush.
Which was borne by me and Sergeant Glen 'til trickery did we smell,
After which we cornered Kusba in the Mess and gave him Hell.

So we as well began to use the lemon essence trick.
We all professed to satisfy but thought our Colonel thick,
As he stood at water closet breathing deeply, satisfied,
The diggers standing by their beds all laughed until they cried.
And the CSM., cognisant, fed up as much as we,
Served the Colonel and his minions a scrumptious morning tea.
Whilst they stood relaxed and at their ease upon our polished floor,
Between ***** trough on one side, on the other, closet door.
Tasteless Jun 2018
How do i spend my nights..
I do not sleep
I do not write
I do not eat.. well.. almost

Lying there on my bed,
Feeling  confusion , chasing wishful dreams
Dreams i am missing out on, as i follow another

Absorbing information.
Wishing to know it all,
Aspiring to lick it all,
Intending to devour it all.

Staying up, trying to beat that constant ticking.
Hours go by in this delusion...

OH! Its 2 A.M
This is how it begins
Staying up trying to hoard it all,
useful, useless alike.

Like a dog on a treat.
Not caring what it eats.
Not caring what it spills
It satiates its hunger.
But mine only perpetuates itself
The more i chew, the more i swallow.

AH! its 3 A.M
Minutes passing by now, feeling this
comforting exhaustion.
Thanks to this hand crafted insomnia
I flick through these websites like chapters in a book.

Internet is my haunt
In these wee hours
For i got addicted to it,
Before i could grab a novel.

****! It's 5 again
I steal quick gazes from my screen
Watching the darkness grow dim.
Time to wrap it up,
And rid you of this rant.
Another night well wasted,
I guess, i'll just fap and pant.

Will get ready to commit this mistake again,
For now, I try to cup those dreams back in again.
Dramatic representation how I spend my nights. :P

— The End —