NEWTOWN (TRIBUTE)
ERNIE ANDEREGG
Dec 27, 2013      Dec 29, 2013

NEWTOWN (TRIBUTE)
              from Tucson,AZ
                E.J.Anderegg  

In a haven of knowledge, structured for sharing,
an intruder descends with all absence of caring.

Unleashing his crucible’s conscienceless yield,
student’s bastion transformed to a killing field.

Grim reaper bedeviled with hell-bent depravation.
Safe haven for children suffers love’s reparation,

It’s not really surprising that death toll keeps rising,
While the lost moral compass despised compromising.

NRA’s pompous position truly appalls;
Corporate greed clenching sacs that once contained balls.

Though psycho’s name fades, he’ll bequest mental anguish.
In Newtown hearts, where young memories languish.

ren, teachers, parents and community of Newtown CT
James Bradley McCallum

a snow falls upon us
blanching our being
in throes of starkness

silently we shiver
as crystallized tears
slice our eyes

icicles of
random fate
pierce our
hearts
shredding
the last strongholds
of youth blessed hope
draining reservoirs
of love into tepid
pools of blood
growing at our feet

our prayers fail
to keep the deadly
blizzards at bay
bearing this days
daily pestilence
ravaging the
fragile semblance
of our crumbling
humanity

what winds
bring this snow?

these terrible
clouds descending
upon us

drowns us in groaning
waves of desolation
with such startling
finality

for the children, teachers, parents and community of Newtown CT
Music Selection: Prokofiev, Peter and the Wolf

jbm
12/14/12
Savannah, GA

i found pryce jones
empty, except for
a smell, and sad boy,
wanting to get out of there.

i found that when taking notes,
i took note of the shadow,
the history man on
bullet points, politics.

registering my interest
i may have an opinion here.

or there. he left early
which was just as well.

i went shopping for wooden things.

sbm.

Gary Gibbens
Gary Gibbens
Dec 15, 2012      Dec 15, 2012

And so he came to the high place
The broken steps of many years behind him
Many times he had rehearsed his question
It was o so wise and would impress the foolish
But now his heart was shattered
His clothes were rent
There was dirt on his face
He had forgotten all his pretenses


He simply asked
"How could you let this happen?"
"How?"
Again the images of the children
Lying in their blood
Screams and moans now quieted
As their black blood pooled
Bodies scrambled in a classroom
Filled with their innocent drawings

"How could you let this happen?"

As always, there was no answer
Far away the muffled sounds of weeping.

Brin B
Brin B
Dec 15, 2012      Dec 16, 2012

Those minutes you were wondering
Scared and alone
Wanting mommy or daddy
You never thought you could feel this scared

Backed up in a corner
Huddled together
With fear vibrating though your spine
What's going on?

You don't want that animal to invade
The place you learn
Loved
Laughed

The noises you hear
Will haunt you forever
Corrupt your dreams
Ruin the innocence

The things you see
Red marked halls
Tears
Terror

Finally out
Knees shaking
Vision blurred
Life altered

The scariest thing
Seeing the adults upset
Their knees shaking,vision blurred
Life altered

One person ruined the lives of so many. Newtown you are in our thoughts and prayers
JC Patterson
JC Patterson
Dec 15, 2012      Dec 15, 2012

I
A palm on the blackboard and a loud black shoe,
tight as a lover’s squeeze against the wind,
a door swing on the incline and blown sky-blue;
this morning’s painting wheezes out from its pin.

II
A hand on the back-lock and one black sin,
wide as a wind-torn preach upon a pew;
the heavy thud of his boot on the white lin-
oleum - a hopscotch yearly in two by two.

III
Finger in the tock-tick and a fat, black coo,
dumb as a stillborn on a hospital wing,
the men who sell bullets and claim the right view;
men who start fires and then let the bell ring.

Dedicated to the families in Connecticut
NEWTOWN (TRIBUTE)
ERNIE ANDEREGG
Dec 27, 2013

NEWTOWN (TRIBUTE)
              from Tucson,AZ
                E.J.Anderegg  

In a haven of knowledge, structured for sharing,
an intruder descends with all absence of caring.

Unleashing his crucible’s conscienceless yield,
student’s bastion transformed to a killing field.

Grim reaper bedeviled with hell-bent depravation.
Safe haven for children suffers love’s reparation,

It’s not really surprising that death toll keeps rising,
While the lost moral compass despised compromising.

NRA’s pompous position truly appalls;
Corporate greed clenching sacs that once contained balls.

Though psycho’s name fades, he’ll bequest mental anguish.
In Newtown hearts, where young memories languish.

I am sitting by a fire with a cup of chai,
in Africa somewhere, thinking
of twenty dead children.
The Turkana women keen in the dark.
‘Woitokoi,’ they say, ‘Woitokoi,’
a call of lament.
Oh, mom.
It’s your babies
It’s your babies

I rarely turn on the radio, but do tonight.
14th of December.  Cooking coconut curry.
I watch the last red and gold fall behind skeleton trees
and step out into the cold with my guitar and Willie Nelson’s
‘Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys.’
Is anyone watching the sparrows falling?

You mothers who have lost a child,
you fathers who have lost a child,
have gone where none can follow
but One who loves you, loves me,
even school shooters, maybe;
One who hates evil
for what it destroys,
One who
(for this love
and hatred)
listens to His son say:
Father
Father
Why have you forsaken me.
One who says to you now:
though father and mother forsake you
yet I will not forsake you--


I am sitting by a fire in Shelton, Connecticut,
thinking of twenty dead babies.
Oh mom.  Mom.
It’s your babies.
It’s your babies.
It’s your babies

Prayers for Newtown
Jon gregg
Jon gregg
Dec 17, 2012

Waiting at the Bus Stop

I'm sitting in the back of the bus where the heater is and I'm gazing into the isle of the bus. The heat is very strong, it's not very comfortable but neither is my position. My tangled dark blue track earphones are trying their best to blast "Move Along" by All American Rejects from my 3rd generation iPhone that sits in my flannel pocket. My friend in the seat next to me is reading Grendel while blasting Paramore, the freshman in the front of the bus are fooling around, once the bus goes over a pot hole they fly back into their place. Two seats infornt of me there are two girls sitting next to each other, probillily talking about a boy or how great the swim meet was. Th bus starts to go up my life threatening hill, many car crashes happen here. When we get to my stop I stand up mid drive, I feel like I'm surfing. And when the bus comes to it's sudden stop, I jolt back because I know I will fall. I walk down the isle of backpacks and freshman looking at me as if I was a big tough guy, I'm only 5 foot I would say. When I get off and cross our road, my dog is waiting for me. I start to cry. Kids should be allowed that right to be able to come home and see their dog waiting for them at the bus stop.

Prayers for Newtown

Newtown, Connecticut
Anonymous
Mar 30

On December 14, 2012
Children hid in cubbies,
They hid in shelves.
Teacher's surrounded
And spoke them kind words,
For out in the halls,
The shots could be heard.
Just an elementary school
Filled with laughter and joy,
Was stripped of its fun
All because of one boy.
A tear fell from America's eyes,
As we heard the news,
For now twenty-six angels,
Our country did lose.
Newtown, Connecticut
Will never be the same.
Engraved in its heart,
Is sorrow and pain.
Twenty children,
Six adults.
They didn't deserve it,
They weren't at fault.
Now all of our hearts
Are filled with sorrow,
We never expected
They wouldn't see tomorrow.
Twenty-six angels
On a friday, flew away.
Rest easy, sweet angels.
In our hearts you will stay.

#poetry   #sad   #heart   #pain   #death   #break   #shooting   #sorrow   #change   #heaven   #america   #joy   #tumblr   #angels   #school   #laughter   #newtown   #connecticut   #26  
 
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