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Alan S Jeeves Aug 2022
Prologue

In the end, the bitter end, he who orders
the death and destruction of another nation
shall, himself, sleep the sleep of the vanquished.

I
Dead mouths of many dreams that sing and sigh
And call out feebly in the midst of night
Calling, fearsome as their bleak wanton cry
And frighting, as the unthinkable fright
Until  the dark of their plight passes by.

II
For, cold are the eyes that slumber in fear
And cold is the heart of the soul that sleeps
And sour is the taste of the sleeper's tear
And dire are the many secrets he keeps
For, wild is the scream that seeps in his ear.

III
The ruler of tracts o'er the eastern lands
Where red is the sky and black are the days
And burned are the souls the ruler commands
As flaming night comes and flaming night stays  
So, then a nation betrays at his hands.

IV
Nothing is priceless or free of its cost
And value is learned when payment is due
For, battles are won though, wars can be lost,
(Battles are many yet, victories few)
And dead mouths sound as a new dream is tossed.

Epilogue

Sleep heavy and sleep long as you are,
at last, held to account for your sins.
Payment shall be heavy and long
and shall last for eternity.
these days
looking around the globe
one might believe that we are traveling in time

just in the wrong direction

regression as progress
seems to be
the dominant notion of the day
creating wannabes in various disguises
     populist czars, sultans, nationalists, dictators,
     assorted self-appointed saviors
     of their peoples’ wealth and health,
trumpeting fences, walls, tough immigration laws,
etc., etc.  
to keep out and silence all those aliens
     or invade their countries
      and eliminate them

     who otherwise are welcome
     as our partners in the global trade
     that seems to dominate the world of greed

so we can all be ourselves

     whatever that might mean

claiming to solve the problems of tomorrow
     with memories of yesterday
is not only hopeless but quite dangerous

do you remember
what that glorified past
actually was?
Apropos the current situation in the Ukraine this 2016 poem is reposted with two additional lines
Francie Lynch Mar 2022
Where have all the assassins gone,
I'm just asking,
Where have all the hit-men gone,
It wasn't long ago.
Where have all the psychos gone,
Ones like Sirhan Sirhan,
Or a crazy red Russian,
Lining crosshairs for Vlad Putin.

Where have all the agencies gone,
I'm just asking,
The MI5, the CIA,
KGB, Mossad;
Where have covert actions gone,
When there's guys like crazed Kim Jong;
Or a crazed Red Russian,
A narcissistic Vlad Putin.

Where have all our heroes gone,
I'm just asking;
Where have all our leaders gone,
Not so long ago.
Where have all fine Russians gone;
Boris was their last good one;
When will we ever learn,
Ego-maniacs can't govern.
Think: "Where Have All the Flowers Gone."
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2021
Starting from the Euphrates
wayfinding a trail toward Babylonia
to divert her waters

mapping her ancient towers
her eyes
her desires
her pudendum

egressing out of the bitter river
surrounding her temple

until enlightenment
glisters betwixt the frangible pages of her
Dialogue of Pessimism:
~
"Who is so tall as to ascend to heaven?
Who is so broad as to encompass the entire world?"

~
Inspired by Jamadhi Verse's poem 'Minor Melancholy' and the music she provided a link to:

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4289300/minor-melancholy/
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
These strange fellows
Still record on videotape
Abroad an outdated
Insufficient spacecraft
The shape of
An interstellar bowling alley

By night they hunt for
New age wine
Radio waves
And a slew of hitchhikers

Some they greet
Some they cheat
Some they mistreat
Some they eat

Convenient store gangbusters
Crop circling has seen its better day
Soundtrack enthusiasts
They've a score to settle
With John Williams

They came from a fruitless world
In search of pomegranate skies
And the Big Apple
Even from the far flung
Reaches of space
Everyone's an actor

Some they unseat
Some they beat
Some they reheat
Some they eat

We're odd to them
Because they're gods to us
In a technologically challenged
Unidentified flying object

It's not war they want
Nor invasion
Just dinner theatre
And a reliable map
Inspired by the poem "If This Beauty Shall Be My Final Curtain, Let It Be Dropped Slowly," by fellow HP writer Mark S.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3705158/if-this-beauty-shall-be-my-final-curtain-let-it-be-dropped-slowly/
Mark Sep 2019
Liking all the latest pics
From the keyboard of my device
Posting all the time
Push a button to make a dime
Gathering members from afar
I'm a star

Why did he have to reinvent the book
By typing right here, everything you need
He plugged us in, created social network for greed
The info guru of the whole **** world
That's why he had to reinvent the book

We feel your caution behind the firewall
Finding an app to help us all
It's paradise when your video goes viral
Accepting new friends you've never met
Want to make a bet?

Why did he have to reinvent the book
By typing right here, everything you need
He plugged us in, created social network for greed
The info guru of the whole **** world
That's why he had to reinvent the book

Making it feel more like a celebration
Spreading the likes and dislikes
To a whole new generation
More like New World Order of sanitisation

That's why he had to
That's why he had to
That's why he had to, reinvent the book.
False Poets Feb 2015
two little ugly creatures
astride me shhhh-oulders
residers and deniers,
opinion~haters,
into each ear, they whisper~creep,
do don't do don't you'll be sorry,
never~good~enough~
and~you~know~it


never in uni~sons,
now look how sorry~sad you are...
dear old dad

when done with the outside torturing,
slip right in and down the ear canal,
up to the brain, thought~mongers,
(what's a monger anyway?)
the voices of my depression,
you can't, you couldn't, you lose,
yo yo you lost you are o v e r,
my body snatched, my past erasing,
turn me into mongrel,
half~man, half~dead
a monger-el,
a contemptible god,
contempted, contemptible
that's the word refrain
of the men in my head
Purcy Flaherty Oct 2018
We rode our horses cross-country,
Through the nations of the unknown,
We survived the snowy mountains,
And lived off the land and the trees,
Through hot summers and cold winters,
Through deserts storms; we circled the trails,
We learned from the birds and the bees,
We hunted the elk, the deer and the buffalo,
We fished to feed the travelling spirit,
We turned acorns into flour,
We set our senses free.

$
Europeans brought Soldiers, missionaries, smallpox, the common cold, scalping, reservations, whisky and the rush for gold.
You brought land grabbers, oil barons, fencing, bricks, barbed wire and all the accoutrements of your civilised culture!
You made this country your own; and forced it's 1st nation people into a 3rd world culture.

You ***** the land of its resources, filled it with waste.
You wasted the water to make coke, burgers,
and fantasy towns.

To reign supreme in a new-world without shame!

Savages!
Meat and potatoes!
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