Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
john-edward-smallshawPoems
The internal battle..eternal....(one from the vault) Lucifer and Jehovah dancing some mad bossa nova While angels on horse backs fought devils with black jacks The white dove of peace had surrendered his lease So God ripped off his wings.. he no longer sings Then the Devil ripped out his heart so it could end at the start. Wagner and Chopin got frightened.. ..and off they ran. But Beethoven and Bach were sat in the park Composing arias to fight Hells hot fires. While Chekhov and Handel burned coramandel But the smoke from that pyre stank like a byre. Socrates was sat dispensing the ethics Hippocrates swore while dishing out medics The Muses were musing one or two were enthusing Oooh look.. the good against sinner Let's go down the bookies and have a bet on the winner. Cometh the day cometh the morn Cometh the hour cometh the dawn. Here is Joshua blowing his horn And here comes Gabriel but all that he meets Are the countless dead lining up on the streets And the wounded and deathbound far far below I feel sorry for Gabriel I wish he could go. But Picasso arrives and cries My God it's my Guernica I'll do a pastiche Oh F*ck it he says and has a pastis (or two) Then Pollack turns up totally ****** Picks up a paint and says what I have missed? What a fantastic sight.. angels flashing demons crashing The hounds of Hell with teeth a gnashing Then Neptune arrives astride his watery chariot Scything through Demons and sat beside Judas Iscariot Mermen and mermaids mercilessly slayed By Beelzebubs prototypes Those that live in the black nights. But as the dawn breaks God knows what it takes So he sends for his legions calls out to all regions Take arms and do battle Till we hears Satans death rattle. And the heavens rip asunder to the sound of the thunder. Satan rings on Hells bell.. tells them all is not well Then disappears from our sight as if he's turned off the light. Then I awake with a start knowing that I've been a part Of something vast something grand A spiritual war being fought in this land I am alive and I shall survive. PRAISE BE.
0
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 9:08 AM UTC
The internal battle..eternal
The internal battle..eternal....(one from the vault) Lucifer and Jehovah dancing some mad bossa nova While angels on horse backs fought devils with black jacks The white dove of peace had surrendered his lease So God ripped off his wings.. he no longer sings Then the Devil ripped out his heart so it could end at the start. Wagner and Chopin got frightened.. ..and off they ran. But Beethoven and Bach were sat in the park Composing arias to fight Hells hot fires. While Chekhov and Handel burned coramandel But the smoke from that pyre stank like a byre. Socrates was sat dispensing the ethics Hippocrates swore while dishing out medics The Muses were musing one or two were enthusing Oooh look.. the good against sinner Let's go down the bookies and have a bet on the winner. Cometh the day cometh the morn Cometh the hour cometh the dawn. Here is Joshua blowing his horn And here comes Gabriel but all that he meets Are the countless dead lining up on the streets And the wounded and deathbound far far below I feel sorry for Gabriel I wish he could go. But Picasso arrives and cries My God it's my Guernica I'll do a pastiche Oh F*ck it he says and has a pastis (or two) Then Pollack turns up totally ****** Picks up a paint and says what I have missed? What a fantastic sight.. angels flashing demons crashing The hounds of Hell with teeth a gnashing Then Neptune arrives astride his watery chariot Scything through Demons and sat beside Judas Iscariot Mermen and mermaids mercilessly slayed By Beelzebubs prototypes Those that live in the black nights. But as the dawn breaks God knows what it takes So he sends for his legions calls out to all regions Take arms and do battle Till we hears Satans death rattle. And the heavens rip asunder to the sound of the thunder. Satan rings on Hells bell.. tells them all is not well Then disappears from our sight as if he's turned off the light. Then I awake with a start knowing that I've been a part Of something vast something grand A spiritual war being fought in this land I am alive and I shall survive. PRAISE BE.
john-edward-smallshaw
Written by
john-edward-smallshaw
70/English
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 9:08 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem