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The poet and the politician thrive in wartime ...
A sense of unity across the country is established as the first bombs hit their target , a stagnant society refreshed , religious centers filled to the brim . Holding tiny flags wishing doomed soldiers well ...
Copyright March 10 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Mar 2016
PJ Poesy
Dauntlessness may be indicative of strangest courage
Who shall say; those rushing to battle?
Oblivious youth prodded off like blank beef cattle
Dare I dispel bravest image; hero for time and peerage
No mother wants her son minced, poured into porridge

Good intention don't be blinded by noble cause
Nobility see no ill harm in poor's sacrifice
Do they offer their own; O when will it suffice?
To abandon war, to give thought, to give pause
Why be meat within richest men's jaws?

Let heroism gain spirit of more peaceful prowess
Join broad-minded, leave dull herd
Who directs minds in this theater of absurd?
Corporations and government alliances boundless
Don't be a cow and don't find yourself powerless
 Mar 2016
The Dedpoet
For two weeks since he's been home
He lost most of his conversation
In asking me or himself what needs
Done in the house or around it.

He watches the news alone at midnight
In the dark looking for war updates,
Always up before me to avoid any
Kind of pillow talk or otherwise.

26 years old and tireless
Back from four years of God knows
Because he won't say a word to me,
But I've never seen him more alone.

Last night I tried to make love to him,
He winced at me like he didn't
Know how to he with a woman any
More, which I found at first kind
Of nice, but really depressed me
Later on thinking about it.

Everyday during lunch, Gil breaks
Out his hand gun and rifle,
He breaks them down with such
A delicate touch, sometimes I get
Jealous of the way he handle them.
Still at the very least I like to think
That he knows how to touch a woman,
And he just misplaced his passion,
That one day he will put the energies
Back where they need to be.
We talk everyday, but the ts like
A mechanical response,
J just let him be.

We had a laugh when we shared
A movie together, the first one we saw
When we dated as teens,
He smiled at me like he did before
He left for the war,
He even gave me a kiss that lasted
More than the usual pecks.

In our bed I stare at this man
That I couldn't breathe without,
I try to understand that maybe he
Will come home some day,
Maybe he will remember himself,
Maybe is my best hope.
We forget the spouses who stay with their husbands and wives who serve our country, who see horrors and then come home to try todeal with life all over again. The war is never truly over for them. God bless all troops of all nations.
 Mar 2016
katie
on this night    
each star is      
listening to
me as if we      
are lovers
whispering
I love you
across        
continents,
reaching out
into oceans  
of sky & 
plucking each
other down,
like a fish    
caught on
a line;
recalling    
how it felt
to be held 
by an orb so    
warm you
forgot the cold     
black hole
of old
So the conclusion was reached that in order for the group to survive and prosper some would need to be destroyed ...
Copyright march 3 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Mar 2016
phil roberts
When I was a young man
A heedless headlong consumer of life, was I
Above and beyond the norm or necessity
I wore paths deep and wide
To the pleasure centres of my brain
And I rode my soul like an easy *****
Oh happy daze of hedonism
How sweet life tasted then

If there was drink to drink
We drank it
If there were songs to sing
We sang them
If there were fights to fight
We fought them
We had fast feet and faster wits
If there was hell to raise
We raised it
Excess and adventure in equal parts
How fast, how high we flew back then

And then the magic playground
Became a bleak and dangerous place
Peopled by predators and prey
In an ever changing food chain
And I was only one step away
From the totally oblivious
One brain cell ahead of
The permanent reality challenged
Then friends began casually dying
Barely noticed in the rush to join them
Now the race is on
And I have grown old and slow

                                              By Phil Roberts
 Feb 2016
Sjr1000
There's slaughter in the fields

                              Men
                             Women
                         Children
                      Frozen
                    No fight
                   No flight
                      (Frozen)

Thunder
Everywhere
though
There are no clouds in the skies

                                             ******
                                            My daughter
                                              ******
                                             My mother
                                               ******
                                                    Me
         ­                                 
                       Running for water
                      Through the rubble
                         All homes destroyed
                        ****** taking aim -
                          The bullet
                         Does it have my name

War
War
What's it good for
                                    Numbness
                                            Is
                 ­                  The only game I know

The dogs
Are eating corpses
In the streets

                                              Just another day
                                                In World War
                                                        III

It'­ll end one day
Peace will return
to a quiet Earth.
A thousand apologies to the master, Picasso.
 Feb 2016
Little Bear
with each delicate word
i placed a tiny parachute
a seed upon the dandelion

so fragile was my trust
but a breath could take it
far away


words.
graceful, charming, eloquent
planted more tiny little seeds
upon the tender head

gathering.
forming a beautiful round
feathery ball

made with the seeds of my faith,
my hope
my trust



and then...


holding the stem

      within your hand
                                                            ­                              
you blew...



                                 and so      your words

and     the seeds  

      one      
                                               ­        by        

                          

one



                                               floated                            



                                                             ­                   away...
Be careful of the words you say,
keep them short and sweet.
You'll never know,
from day to day,
which ones you'll have to eat."

Harsh and cruel words can be the undoing of everything.
 Feb 2016
K Balachandran
She is clad
in white,
even the stain
on her satin
underwear
is pallid.
As tear drops
well up
in both eyes,
she pleads,
"For God's sake
always wear white,
Do not  provoke
the bull in heat
by showing red
in front of the
huffing beast"

Spare a thought
for her, discern
her reasoning
well, see her plight
with open eyes.

Men in black
with violent streak
imbued from
stone age powwows
are on the march
through high streets,
colonizing homes.
Media, self obsessed
and power drunk,
periodically shriek
make mandatory
noises to please itself,
but to no avail,
in a globalized world,
strangely  getting
polarized in micro level
men and women, remain
just pawns pulled in to
the simmering cauldron
of boiling  turmoil.

But see this;
a woman in white,
holding up a white flag
she signals surrender
in abject fear,
can't attack her, right?
Within insulated walls, beyond Geneva convention (against torture)
 Feb 2016
Poetic T
Words are like water
                   You can wipe them
Away but there will
            Always be a reminder
An outline of where they
                  Left their  mark.
 Feb 2016
Walter W Hoelbling
what are those battles
we have been fighting
for so many months

to prove
   that one is right
   the other wrong

summoning friends
   or gods   or common values
       or personal histories
   for our support
we lash out at each other
   in wild despair
   trying to duck the bullets
      evade the thrusts
      keep our selves intact
          up to a point
      just shy of total agony

seemingly oblivious of the fact
   that what really is at stake
   is not victory

   but our joint survival
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