Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
I speak not for man, or know his desires;
   a flower is lost in all he inspires.

I speak not for peace, or know its attire;
   an echo is all the words will require.

I speak not for time; or knows its reasons;
   a clock is measured in equal seasons.

I speak not for love; or know its yearnings;
   a heart is beating;
      forgiven for learning ...
If you
Are war:
I
Surrender
She is doing it again.
Letters in Wartime
Words on paper
Nothing more
Telling the story of a soldier
Or airman or sailor
Letters from the front
Sent home
To a sweetheart
Or family
First read by the censor
Telling of longing to see you
And hardship in battle
Seen thru with determination
And a love of country
Fighting for them
The loved ones
Far from where
He is stationed
Saying about his mates
Some who he misses
Killed in combat
Or worse still
Missing In Action
Maybe the Red Cross
Will locate them
All this told
By words on paper
Stay safe at home
I know the Blitz is ****
But we give it
Back to the ***
Avoid the talking
About sensitive things
For walls have ears
And aid the enemy
Follow the blackout
I send my love
And will write soon
Next time sending my photo
Till then my dear
Keep the fires burning
We protect our country
With untold valour
We will win
This awful war
Later my love
Soldiers don’t cry on battlefield
They don’t run back to their camps
Nor ponder upon how hard the war is.
This is war and it is tailor made exactly for you
So, don’t run back to your room, kid
Nor ponder upon how hard life is
For soldiers don’t cry on battlefield
And neither should you
Testudo. The Turtle forms, we

Stand. Hunker down under your shield/my shield
Now and then shifting smartly left or right to ****/hate
the enemy.

Could it be
Enemies you love?

Ought not so to be.
Something's wrong,
the Turtle's misformed, deformed, in form

the center cannot hold...

And that was the lesson, war don't make things better,
ever.

Nobody, *** Almighty included,
ever looked on war's results,
at a human-dirt level, and said "That's good."

If I am average,
I may make certain assumptions based on self evidence,
things mine own eyes witnessed, as it seemed.

I can stand ready to give answers to every challenge to the faith.
(Stipulation, mine, the faith
That is in me.)
I cannot so stand for the faith that is in you.

Rise to the challenge.
It’s your faith you’re defendin’,
I got mine covered.

Your hate shan’t hinder me, I shan’t let it.
Letters can naught contain.
Your hate has not to gain. Spell o' respect,

on you. R E S P E C T find out what it mean.
D I V O R C E, curse on you.
Spell o' bitter'n average ****** in yo' mouth.

Tammy and Aretha walzin' wit Matilda,
put a spell, on you, onus ennui, pay attention, fool.

Gainsay that.

Beyond the shell of your belief is all that’s called unbelievable,
Beyond the bubble of all you know is all you don't.
Simple to sublime.

Here’s this deal:
Your fair share of everything,
in return for nothing. Grace for grace.
Take it or leave it, makes me no nevermind.

Thank you, Knower of all, for what's granted.

You could stop there if that were your childhood prayer routine.

Amen makes it so.

A command from the bridge, “Make it so, Mr. Solo.”

Testudo.
This tortoise may bear the weight of the world, but

Can we believe it?
Standing on such tortoises all the way down?

Ready. Sistere.
(Google it, f’Cry’sake. E’en scientologists know
you gotta know what the words mean
when you read ’em or hear ’em or say ’em.) Define yer term.

Lies powerless, the idle word, bleeding from the wounds,
redeem them all. Sense and sensibility,
Pride and pre-
judging
next, like yo judgment changes the future.

Sistere's the command to stand
given prior to the command to form Testudo,
the Roman version of the tortoise
military engineering adaptation
young Alex used to maul
Persian  shieldwalls. A human tank, back then.

Wallbuilders! Sistere.
Shield of faith.
We have the mind anointed for the appointed time.

Build another wall, or we will loose the mob,
after the futbol game.

Can you believe that?
Test u do, then wait.

Cool, it’s shady under such a cloud of witnesses.
Toying with lead soldiers. That, and lead paint. Maybe I am mad. Or only old.
Maybe, no, wait and see. Let patience have her perfect work.
Feeding the earth,
            -Your Blood!
Feeding the sand,
           -Your Blood!
Feeding the oceans,
           -Your Blood!
Falling from skies,
           -The Blood!

The soldiers...are left to rot!


Weapons of war
       men of war
                        soldiers at war,

LEFT TO ROT!
SOLDIERS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!


* Weapons of war
       men of war
                        soldiers at war,

LEFT TO ROT!
SOLDIERS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!
Relics of war are left to rot!
LEFT TO ROT!


Feeding the earth,
   -weapons of war!
Bleeding in sands,
         -men of war!
Feeding the oceans,
               -left to rot!

Weapons of war,
    -feed the earth!
Men of war,
    -bleed in sands!

Soldiers of war fall to earth!

SOLDIERS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!
RELICS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!

<musical break>


Weapons of war
       men of war
                        soldiers at war,

LEFT TO ROT!
SOLDIERS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!
RELICS OF WAR ARE LEFT TO ROT!
*

RELICS OF WAR LEFT TO ROT!
Death metal song lyrics.
It's always a criminal time to fight/
To fizz away our furies and our fears
in violent interactions within 'The Warrior Play'/
To unite in bouts/
Put personalities in liberty/
Releases
to bring about the death reaction

Untangled in all this
Is an eye/
a void/
It paces and turns
forgetful and lost ;
a powerless ghost and a witness
to these mad spoilings and energy fits/
This pinball of the battlefield
is catalyst ;
The untouched spirit of the weapon-head/
a war chime
and the thirst of all of us 'soldiers'

                 - in pattern & in population
Blue 3d
there is no guarantee
that we will ever be free
I can't tell you why
the rain pours
and the people mourn
there is no guarantee
that we will ever find peace
I can't tell you why
we go to war
and why he called you a *****
there is no guarantee
that we will ever be happy
I can't tell you why
half of us are on anti-depressants
and why we are fighting the resistance
I can't tell you why
there is no guarantee
Child alone in the grief and tumult of Battle
He is the Man with the means of destruction right there in his hands
****, Soldier it's your job!
Poetry is how we make things reprehensible.

Child alone on a barren and dusty field of gleaming white bones
He is the Man without a plan to feed his family today
Cry, Farmer it's your destiny!
Poetry is how we make things intolerable.

Child alone amid the debris of broken pledges and covenants
He is the Man whose promises are nothing but expediency
Smile, Politician and be proud of your legacies!
Poetry is how we make things unconscionable.

Children alone on a planet of diseased and contaminated potential
They are the Men who meant well, had dreams, made more children
Smile, Humanity and accept the Fate of your speciality!
Poetry is how we make things undeniable.
Okay, so I'm having a bad day today and my faith in Humanity has taken a few knocks of late. But ... Poetry is how we make things sayable.
Next page