Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Isaac Godfrey Jan 2019
The blistering cold freezes the ground we stand upon,
the mud we protect with our lives,
as we stand beside the front line as the monotone winds
pierce soulless faces like knives,
behind the mask, we soldiers are crying,
we fight with our lives because inside we're dying.
The death of myself shan't cause effect, nor stir,
come back a husk of the man you once were,
the slaughter of one is a tragedy, as Stalin said;
but the massacre of millions is just a few more dead.

We spend our last dying moments in a filthy hole,
knowing our efforts had no meaning,
maybe death isn't the absence of life but saying goodbye,
aware of the waste of the bleeding, and screaming,
the bullets that hit us, lose our blood,
but the bullets we send lose our minds,
we sacrifice our forgotten pride for the humility of the state,
the motive long left behind.
You shan't die from the pierce of lead,
for you die the moment you start fighting,
you bleed out and merely become a statistic,
counted with the costs and explosives ignited.
Do we Die the moment we start fighting?
"Every time you drop a bomb, you **** the God your Child has born"
~Serj Tankian, "Boom!"
marianne Nov 2018
2:00 am and it’s that other-worldly heat
rising from the deepest hell, earth’s centre
extra a.f., as she would say
and she would know
at 15—
our separate bodies (spring of her life, mine between) give way
to an inevitable biology

2:00 am and another long hazy chain of women
my foremothers, and we are
single file, through burnt fields in blazing sun
walking a thousand miles
searching for god,
or our free selves—
tired faith stirs
to rightful power

Again, and a heavy grey-smudged blanket
settles around me, uneasy
I sip black tea with milk, eyes adjust, and
night becomes a friend
morning light will appear again
as it does—
fear surrenders
to the unknowable

In the night, like my bearded ancestors
shouting sermons from rough cut pulpits, doctrine
five hundred years old,
I am making peace
but laying down body, soul and mind
not arms—
a new pacifism
old as my mothers
Joshua Baker May 2018
Life is capable of grand versatility;
there’s so many different ways to
end it. Yet, so few ways to save or
preserve it.

I stumbled over weapons left on
the field; the years have punished
them for their deeds, for the lives
they stole.

Men who made these decisions:
Gods, Emperors, Presidents, Generals; somehow few of them paid for it, but soldiers and civilians did.

They paid for the bickering
with their lives. How can men dictate who others ****? Where did this bloodshed begin?

Where will it end?

Not on this battlefield, nor will
it end on the one miles from here.
Not even on the fields that’ve stood still for a millennia.

When will it end?
Graff1980 Jan 2018
There were two steel skinned brothers.
One was a passivist
the other a warrior
and wherever they went
they gained followers.

Two righteous brothers
split in their own conflict,
wanting justice,
but unable to work together.

One would sit and meditate
while enemies struck fiercely.
He convinced whole families
to join him
and when he was attacked
they were attacked as well,
but not being steel skinned
they fell
to the brutal onslaught
and the passivist brother
would move on
trying to do what’s right
while watching others die.

The other brother
would rage against
the abusive power
battling Knights
and Samurais.
He went wherever
there was oppression,
fighting was his obsession,
and being steel
he did not even feel
the cold hard strikes
of arrows, swords,
and knives.
People would follow him
and when he fought
they fought as well,
but not being steel skinned
they fell
to the brutal onslaught
and the warrior brother
would move on
trying to do what’s right
while watching others die.
Atrisia Nov 2015
If I am ever just okay, hope you know am far away from where I need to be, which is being happy.
To fall in love with life, is what i choose to do everyday.

Okay is middle ground, for peachy and all the hazy shades of gray.
I move with a bucket of colour if gray i encounter today.
I want to be ready to face joy or hate any day
and always be in position to give some joy away each single day.

And to those that hate me for the stupid smile on my face
Because they think life hands me roses every morning
please note that these particular grapes are not sour.
chosen joy is sweet everyday.
And I challenge you to pick joy every day.
Okay is where I want to end up, in case of an emergency
Homunculus Oct 2015
Learn to recognize lies, while they stand at
Their podiums, and proselytize,
Like so many Sunday preachers,
You can see it in their eyes, and
Their shifty ****** features, though
Their words seem sincere,
Their subtle cues, serve as
Teachers of their inner intent, so
Don't forget your diligence, and
Let them **** your dissent, with
Empty promises and rhetoric, to
Fill your head with lies about,
How war is for the betterment, of
Nations abroad, the sentiment
Is laughable, the premise is a fraud.
Cause when it all boils down, and
When push comes to shove,
Democracy has grass roots, it's
Not imposed from above, and
At the end of the day, money is
The factor prime, it's the secret
Justifier for this terroristic crime,
First, they bombed Iraqi cities,
In a trial of "Shock and Awe"
That killed even more civilians,
Than what 9/11 saw, and
Once the cities were demolished,
Halliburton then rebuilt them, and
Reaped enormous profits,
To the tune of 40 billion, and
Among other things, in this
"Just" war's spoils, were
The underground oceans,
Flowing full of crude oil, and
We all fund these atrocities,
These lies, these hypocrisies, well
If you decide this ain't the type,
Of thing that you can stand for,
Write "exempt" on line 7, of your W-4
Aside from the W-4 approach, you can also refuse a token amount of any monetary sum on tax form 1040, be it $5 as a symbolic gesture, or a larger amount equivalent to the share of income tax that funds defense/military . Note that if you actually do this, the IRS will try to retaliate. Don't let them intimidate you, people are rarely arrested for low profile tax offenses. There is an establishment called the "War Resisters League" that has been active in the States for over half a century. Their website is an excellent resource for strategies and  guidelines for those whose consciences will no longer allow them to be complicit with this sort of behavior. Please consider this, and spread the message far and wide. If enough people did this on a given year, it would make a powerful statement.
The King of Shards and Metal Shaving,
His consort; Queen of Flaking Rust,
and the Prince of Powdered Pulverized Stone
reign over nothing but dust.

All they fear is a sudden gust
- a brazen wind or rebel breeze
that dares expose landscapes of chalky bone:
skeleton-subjects who once bent knees,
millions who bowed to their Majesties
  proclaiming idiot-edicts, raving,
"This is Holy War!"  "Righteous!"  "Just!"
Now they are bleached remains past saving.

Blood was the wasted acid engraving
tributes in sand to names-unknown.
And none now hear the royal decrees
from each clown on each crumbling tin-foil throne.

The King of Gasping, Dying Moan,
The Queen of  Last Convulsive Breath,
and the Prince of the Final Beat of the Heart
rule in their realm of death.
I wanted to try an irregular rhyme-scheme for this anti-war poem.
Deyer Apr 2015
The ash will fall, settling silent
                   while the barrels cool.
          No noise will come as the last
head hits dirt.                
No words, no amount of
      prayer will set still hearts in motion.
                      No deaf ears will continue to ignore
at that point,
     and no one will wonder
about the meaning of it all.
With all weapons,
                     and minds settled,
maybe then
finally learn.
Mark Lecuona Feb 2015
If the worst you can call me is naive
Then I will accept it
If the worst you can call me is pacifist
Then I will live it
Because if I am these things
Then I have conquered my nature
For it is the violence within
That heaven will judge for it's favor

— The End —