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Can you hear the sound,
Of drummers marching?
Can you hear the pipes,
As the pipers are playing.

Go forth, yon brave men,
Fight for the country today.
March on, march for battle,
The fields will run with blood.

Centuries ago, they fought for country,
Times never change for they fight still.
Guns replace swords, bombs replace arrows,
Go forth brave souls, you are fighting still.

When this battle ends, remember the dead,
They fought with honour, fought with pride.
Be remembered boys, we will not forget thee,
There will be flowers, always, on fields of blood
copyright Chris Smith 2010
 Mar 2014
Jonathan Sawyer
A canvas of possibility,
colored magnificently for the occasion,
yet inevitably disposable.
Though my life be short,
I witness the Joy of my purpose.
And they love me for it.
9 March 2014
 Nov 2013
Victor Marques
One day we will die,
We will stop lie.
Thoughts for gain,
People with no name.

The birds will fly,
One day we will die.
Secrets that will be free,
I will die for you and me.

Games will disapear,
No stress ,no fear.
One day we will die,
Say thank you, say goodbye.

Warmest regards.
Victor Marques
 Jun 2013
Victor Marques
Estou com Deus em plenitude,
No riacho que corre, no canto do rouxinol,
Nas árvores com ou sem folhagem.
Estou com Deus  na inquietude,

Com Deus na velhice e Juventude.
Nas montanhas que os olhos avistam,
No horizonte , na imensidão do ser,
Nos segredos para ler.

Estou com Deus amigo,
Com ou sem Abrigo.
Ondas do mar com espuma,
Deus da luz e da bruma.

Cordiais Cumprimentos.
Victor Marques
 Nov 2012
Victor Marques
Sentir Deus

Sentir nosso Deus celestial e bendito,
Orvalho e bela ponte…
Quando me levanto contemplo o horizonte,
Anónimos em quem eu acredito.

Sentir o nosso Deus sempre,
Salgueiro no riacho tão bonito,
As vozes de teu reino infinito,
Outono de folha cadente.

Sentir Deus na água cristalina,
Caminhar por entre areia tão fina.
Ninfas pueris bem-amadas,
Nuvens no céu esbranquiçadas.

Sentir Deus que dá amor e pão,
O relógio do tempo que nunca para,
O toque de uma guitarra,
Silêncio de bela constelação.

Victor Marques
sentir , Deus
 Nov 2012
Victor Marques

The stars and the moon to  see,
Blind people smiling for free.
Horizons of orange and red in my mind,
Universe fair and kind.

The real world that universe show,
Seeds to plant and grow.
Sand of the desert   and water of the sea,
Lovely scenery, lovely scenery…

The nature in cycle rotation,
Universe as one nation.
The precision of time and your wish,
Sun set and the beach.

Men’s looking for priorities,
Students at universities.
Universe lost and unknown,
Crying all alone.

Warmest  regards.
Victor Marques
universe, precision, time
 Nov 2012
Victor Marques
We will never know,
God made the rainbow.
We have rain and snow,
The train just go.

We will never know the whole space,
Discover a new race.
Stars like sun in everyday,
Ghosts to live and stay.

We will have a soul,
Footballers with no goal.
Mens with no feet,
Angels we will meet.

We will live or die?
No treasure to buy.
We love until the end,
We never know my dear friend.

Wamest regards.
Victor Marques
know, eternal, life.
 May 2011
Joseph A Belli
Twilight anchors subtle strokes on the guitar.
Rhythmically soft plucking of each finger resonates among the stars.
I gasp at a true orchestra of gods,
Who reign over sleepless neighbors,
Content in their dwellings,
Never once appreciative the timeless symphony,
Our Earth Mothers beseeching whisper.
I try to play along with her,
But congested cackling of metropolitan madmen,
So brazen is their yelping.
Spoiled children crying for attention,
Unable to hear her song over obsessive commotions,
At all hours of their borrowed lives.
Yet she plays on,
As if thanking us for her inevitable demise,
At the hands of her most beloved child.
I suppose we can do no wrong in Mothers eyes.
© J.Belli 2010.. Critique, Help me become a better writer..
 Nov 2010
Randi B
I played witness to a society crumbling
streets cracked and schools shut down
the landscape has grown beyond troubling.
My litter stains the earth just as
the blood stains the streets
and still no one takes notice.

Every anti-action can be guilt free
when not one person considers this place
or how it’s become a monstrosity.

Who, now, will watch the world end?
Your future children, or theirs after?
How long can we hold this green-patched trend?
How long before the affluence takes hold?
Or has it got it’s grips on us so hard
that everyone believes what they’re told?
Everyone has someone to answer to
but no one can provide an answer
that speaks a complete and honest truth.

Discrimination has not yet been abolished
but the modest effort can be seen
where it’s been masked and lightly polished
to be put on display as a once-was.
Politically corrected and cleverly disguised
but I still see a still-is that’s nearly silenced us.

What has occurred cannot be undone
but I still want to change the world
at least before my hate crime comes.
 Aug 2010
DJ Thomas
We each have a voice and life,
it is how we use them not how we might!

copyright© 2010
There came, suddenly, a mushroom cloud
So high up, smouldering the sky
It was the day that the Earth shook
When the white finally turned into black

Death visited all, with a cold touch
Spreading his scythe across everywhere
Destroying those beating hearts which it touched
Then that cold became a blinding, searing heat

Skeleton trees are all that stand there now
Once that blossumed with beautiful green
Now all they are, are reminders in ash
Lost memories of what was a brighter time

Lone buildings are now left empty
All life drained from their dull walls
The living are gone, just dead souls left
Haunting in a city that is devoid of light

Schools without echoes of voices from children
One single playground , sad and left so lonely
Young lifes, mercilessly, that are snuffed out
From those adult games that are called "War"

Churches that no longer have religious following
No prayers heard, to take away this thing called damnation
Broken tombstones mark the passing of civilisation
Only extinction now visits after the Zero Hour fell
copyright Chris Smith 2010
 Jul 2010
D Conors
I am,
however, no hero,
just a lowly poet
in the always
and forever
quest for the pursuit of
D. Conors
08 July 2010
 Jun 2010
D Conors
On the streets of heat and movement
lie the evidence of pain,
she walks, he talks, the children run
throughout the burning rain.

I can smell the smoke of lifelessness
along the living death,
we talk, they walk, the sirens wail
today may rob our breath.

In the rooms of waste and apathy,
sit silent the insane,
she writes, he writes, the samll hand ticks
the hours fast away...
D. Conors
c. 1985
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