When they sent up flares
into the air
the light was too bright
for those on the ground

Instead of running for shelter
from the whistling bombs
we could only freeze like trees
in the dirt we were standing on

Theirs was a sure-fire
strategy
We were seen
then blown to smitherenes

We had to change our dream
yesterday
on Saturday
when the blasphemous
Catholic bells
were banging away
at our brains

We both ran
far away
from the bells
yesterday
to sit beside
a river stream
to try to change our dream

It worked

From a spark of anger
it all happened
one day
when
he should have stayed
sane

His face distorted
instantly
when her words
rattled his head

The surface waves
became too tall
crashing over
roads and walls

The blade spiralled
into her heart
her next life
ready to start

(Every Tuesday the O'Bheal Poetry competition in Ireland suggests five unrelated words and the contest or challenge is to make a poem from those five words.  On July 9th the five words were:  spiral   blade   spark   distort   surface ).  One can google.....' O'Bheal Five-Word poetry'  competition and submit any poems for an annual contest where the winner travels to Ireland all expenses paid to read their poem at an event.

Green is not my colour
Vacuum is not my sound
This morning my shirt is green
And they're vacuuming all around

I wonder can they change
the day the carpet's vacuumed
Maybe on a Friday
they can do another room

A tale I will tell
about people and places
of olden times

That which has been covered
almost forever
by stardust
will now be seen
in the light
of the sun
by everyone

In the desert of extremes
where day and night
are mean
at times
her heart
beat
as long as it could
until it surrendered
to a never-ending army
of mercenaries
who were paid
in silver
and gold

They surrounded
her oval oasis
until
there was quiet

Pretentious poetry
irritates me
Too many words
that people want heard
a lot
whether they mean
something
or not

My time is mine
and I am robbed
taken hostage
put in *******
searching for pieces
to fit into
pathetic puzzles

Some poets
should be muzzled

Eat your Eton Mess
and all the rest 
of the fattening food
you can fit into
your gluttonous guts

Make a display
in front of us
in front of them
in front of me
so we can clearly see

      the greed of the aristocracy

Caligula would be proud
to join the ‘Hunt’
to find the fox
to feed the hounds
spattering blood
on red coats
all around

This ‘tradition’ 
is sedition
to the king of reason
and the queen of hearts
who rule these parts