Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
People rushing to work
Just another ordinary day
Or so it seemed.
The worst imaginable thing happened.
Bang smash  right into the twin towers
Panic rushing around like crazy
Franctic people pushing and shoveling
Screaming  shouting.
People jumping to escape the flames
The smell of death
Feeling of hopelessness.
Firemen  caught trapped in the blaze.
Suddenly the whole block collapses
Gone in a moment.all theses lives.
Never forget the souls of September the 11th
Middy May 2018
It's a sad old ****** Sunday
When men walk in suits,
With solemn faces in the cold wind
Tears flow down the elderly's wrinkled faces
And their hands shake
Women hold the hands
Of their whispering children
The long droning speeches are said
All is said and all is done
The poppies are placed
Everyone stands in silence
Then walks home in whispers
Paper poppies on their coats
Waking through
Freezing Autumn leaves
We walk inside our homes
We hear church bells chime
Like the ones at the funerals so long ago
We take off our coats
Leave them around
We lie in bed and sleep
We get up the next day
When all is said and done
And life goes on
Except not for the dead
And not for the ones
Who witnessed death
See this is what ****** me off about November 11th. It's a good idea except if you think about it, people just move on. By people, I mean people who will never get the picture of what it's like to see men dying around you, buried in snow and mud.
Also sorry for not being around, school has been awful recently. :(
David P Carroll Mar 2018
Special Mom.
I've a special mom
So thoughtful
So warm
You wouldn't believe that she is my mom.

Her Love is truly warm
Loving me forever in life
As we share our lives
My mom is truly amazing

She has taught me about life
She has shown me happiness
Our Love is still growing strong
After all she is my mom

A soft touch of warm love
A special place always together
Between me and my mom
As I take your hand

I smile towards you
Always by your side
In life but most of all
Your my special mom
And my love for you
Will always forever live on.
Loving Her On Mothers Day
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
A humble word, “Y-o-u”

I forget to remember at 11th hour
I remember to forget at 11th hour
Theme: When, nothing matters.
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
to avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness
which near future prospect
   induces existential angst i confess.

Today (end of rope rhyme rote
   approximately deux orbitz round the sun),
i wanted ta die and bid god riddance grandly
   going gamesomely gra grave,
   de deum, and cymbal crash

to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually -
   all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash
how tempting to seek ot a solution sans hemlock
   or other deadly potion,

   whereby toothless mouth need not gnash
boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of
   mortal freedoms renting psych *** under
   with purposelessness mine hash

tag, which bout with suicide
   while n the edge of thirteen -
   Anorexia nervosa defeated -
   then as now experience
   10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash

lacerating, flagellating,
   and repeatedly rousing thoughts
   shin to circle back to why death be not proud
   when life on par with a mash

up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus
   analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash
the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring
   in step happy jollity,
   and levity attempt to make light

   of psychological me's mental illness rash
whence thru the (then) lvii roam min years
   as chief garbage taster of trash
hurled my way gnome matter

   the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash
distance to inflict din er of dissonance
   targeted this mortal for'er abash
as soon as he got expelled
   from the womb, his reddened ears did bash
from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses

   into the maternity ward
   of me late mum sped like dash
her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate
   a con ***** dancer, cuz ova this rude half
   re: that came a boot
   from genetic chromosomal dna wash.
Maggie Emmett Nov 2015
It has a new scale of reference
vast, vicious and unforgiving
death for millions will be anonymous
machine gun arbitrary and indiscriminate
shelled and shocked, barraged and buried
no whole corpse to recognise as human
no remains to mourn and grieve
just rich blood and bone for Poppies
growing strong in the Flanders' fields.

Landscape resculpted to barest bone
earth desecrated and destroyed
every old tree and young bush uprooted
tossed like feathers to the blackened sky
debris swirling in the clouds of poison
gas and the putrid stench of burning flesh
in pyres that smoke and stink for days
just fertile ash and dust for Poppies
growing strong in the Flanders' fields.

© M.L.Emmett
Read at an exhibition of the etchings of Ottto Dix, a soldier fighting for the Germans as a young man in WWI. He was persecuted by the Nazis in WWII
Go to National Gallery of Australia website to view his chilling art.
Trevon Haywood Oct 2015
In what at least
Seemed anger the Aquarians in the basement
Had been perfecting a device.
For making sense to us
If only briefly and on pain
Of incommunication ever after.
Now look who's here. Our prodigal Sunset. Just passing through from Isfahan.
Filled him by the glass.

Disorients [...].

James Merrill
Poem dedicated by me.
Sara L Russell Sep 2014
by Sara L Russell
(For the casualties of Manchester Kennels, 12/9/14, 21:05)

Old trusty Bob, sure-footed in the lead,
Truffles and Sandy bringing up the rear;
And all the others, with no faith or creed,
Yet representing all that's loved and dear.

They run along the path to Paradise
To where no faithful hound need ever die;
A playful eagerness lights up their eyes,
As clouds and gliding seraphim go by.

Garlands of stars and quasars light the way
The scent of incense lifts their spirits high
Nobody shouts commands to sit or stay;
Freedom is calling from beyond the sky.

Saint Peter tells each one "Rest easy, friend;
Your earthy suffering is at an end."
(Please look up the twitter tag #ManchesterDogsHome to find out how to donate for the rebuilding of the kennels)
B M Clark May 2014
We live in a world of fear
A world where danger lurks too near
I'll still speak on

I speak to deaf ears
No one listens
no one hears

Peace Brother
No reason to fight
Peace Brother
A message of light

Put down your weapons
Let's figure this out
Don't start a fight again
You've no reason to shout

Guns fire
Explosions sound
People dying
look around

I speak behind
Telling them what to see
I speak to the blind
Can't tell them what to be

Peace Brother
No reason to fight
Peace Brother
A message of light

Put down your weapons
Let's work this out
Don't start a fight again
You've no reason to shout

The sound of war
It rings through time
A sound like none before
A well missed sign

We need to stop
The endless battle
The fight for the top
Like mindless cattle

We try to win it
We press on forward
With our bad habit
No one cares they just move onward

They shout and yell
The can't talk nice
And the children can tell
This habit is a vice

So Peace Brother
No reason to fight
Peace Brother
A message of light

Put down your weapons
Let's figure this out
Don't start a fight again
You've no reason to shout

Peace Brother
Don't fight, Don't shout
Peace Brother
Let's work it out

Peace Peace
My message of

— The End —