Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
In a world where our hearts beat as one
Underneath the warm shining sun
And let the Lords peace
And love flow touching
Everyone's hearts and
Let us cherish his love and care
With everlasting peace and love
Everywhere for in the Lord's peace
All our joys can be spun.
The invasion of Iraq came robed in political poetry.
vik Jun 22
i logged the warheads’ saintly arc,
through treaties transcribed just to shrink,
while taboo colonized the dark,
a name is never worth the ink.

i processed breath in programmed loops,
the margins where the righteous blink,
between the cables and the troops,
a name is never worth the ink.

each border twitched in nitrate maps,
the walls revised in auto-sync,
i traced the bloodstained autographs,
a name is never worth the ink.

she entered nothing but a tag,
a field in forms that didn’t think,
her voice absorbed by final lag,
a name is never worth the ink.

the city burned in filament,
the state dreamed red and blue in sync,
we lost her in the precedent,
a name is never worth the ink.

the cat observed, the shutters closed,
she left a toothbrush by the sink,
her absence, not to be disclosed,
a name is never worth the ink.

the archives hum. the geiger talks.
my shell is built where memos clink.
they tested God beneath the rocks:
a name is never worth the ink.

deterrence smiles with sober teeth,
bureaucracy demands a link,
but all that lives remains beneath,
a name is never worth the ink.
mutually assured destruction
AC Jun 22
we are not all going to die.
a draft will never hit our home
the TV will always be on, but
we will never be alone.

i write to dress the aching wounds
of the impending fantasy of a wartime
or rather a sickening anxious nightmare
of what cause
of what cause is it for?
is it to tear all of our teens to shreds on a dusty battlefield
while those who stay work our fingers bare?
fighting for a piece of colored fabric and glory that was never there?

the war will only hurt this broken world
and they say we will die american deaths.
someone pulled the bathtub stopper for
the liquid love in our hearts is gone,
and yet
the TV is always on.
June 21, 2025. 10 PM EST.
AMAN12 Jun 21
It's not red, like they said.
It's white, green, pink, blue
And all other fascinating hues.
Not the grays I am used to.

I was told there is no air here,
Yet every breath is crisp and sheer
No masks, no tubes, no weight to bear.
Most importantly, nothing to fear.

I didn't need a suit or a flight,
Just a smile and a grip held tight.

On Mars,

Food overflows, in plates, pots and dustbins
Buildings rise, neither burned nor crumbling.
No kids with wounds from bullet strikes.
All body parts intact, not lost to war pikes.
The sky glitters even without missiles,
The dead are buried, not left in piles.
Huge cranes lift steel to kiss the sky,
Unlike ours, which lifted cries up high.
Here parents and friends grow old.
No blood-stained tents left to fold.


They said Mars holds no life.
What's this then? Afterlife?
I had heard a lot about Mars
Today I learnt Mars has no Wars.
🅘n shadowed halls where prophets weep,
🅢erpents trade peace for secrets they keep.
🅡uins remember what men forget—
🅐 promise drowned in a soldier’s debt.
🅔arth drinks deep from the blood of pride,
🅛egions march though gods have died.

🅘 ron wings carve silence in flame,
🅡 ivers of ash bear no name.
🅐ngels flee from holy lands torn,
🅝ations rise where oaths are sworn.
Carlo C Gomez Jun 17
Rings of Headrick
Stabilize the flight
Of a broken equal

In zero atmosphere
I record you remembering to smile
Pixel pleasure
Whether or not
In zip ties

Cloud on the brow
Rain in the ashtray
Storms we all breathe in heavily

An end to camaraderie
By critical distance
By counting back from ten

Zero is an even number
When discord is no longer odd
Tat Jun 17
Anxiety tears at my heart,
it sickens my gut,
I leave this apart.

Bright picture in my mind,
it crept into my ears
so perfectly designed
to blend into the fears.
My teeth are gnashed in wrath
curse words are ringing loud
can't irreverse this path
but this is way I'm proud.

Breath in and out
anxiety just fades
feel softest ground
and all these darkest shades.
Through optics greet my target,
transform it’s brain to slush,
thick grass is like a carpet
I don't need all the rush.

Trajectory is known
I crawl away to dark
my scent's already blown
I leave no sign, no mark.
My shots between the heartbeat
I mix my breath to wind
reward for this is not sweet
they made me be that skilled.

I crawl, the plants are shaking -
assist from helping ghosts
You'll pay for what you're making
you'll never be the host.
One bullet, breath, ballista,
the vultures will have feast
They'll say that you resisted.
but who believes to beasts?

The peace throughout my body
it's way to fall asleep.
I have to work that stoutly
for freedom that we keep.
Ukrainian: Тривога шматує серце,
тривога нудить шлунок,
тривозі в мені не йметься:
взиваю на порятунок.
Тривога малює картини,
тривога залізла у вуха,
болем згинає спину,
свистом ріже по слуху.
Гнів вже зціплює зуби,
ненависть пише прокльони,
злістю стискаються губи,
думкою дзвоню у дзвони.
Вдих-видих, погляд на ноги:
тут мені треба спокій,
ще видих - стихає тривога
і я вже - безшумні кроки.
Мій погляд орлиний та хижий,
крізь оптику з ціллю вітаюсь,
ще рух і мозок твій - жижа,
за це на одрі не покаюсь.
Зповзаю я тихо подалі,
вони ж траєкторію взнають,
природа мене приховає -
даремно - вони повтікають.
Мій постріл між стуками серця,
а подих зрівняється з вітром,
молись, він тобі не озветься,
погасло для тебе вже світло.
Повзу, вітер зелень хитає -
це нам від землі допомога,
де я - ти ніколи не взнаєш,
я всюди, не клич про підмогу.
Ще подих, ще куля, баліста,
стервятникам буде свято,
я завжди працюю чисто,
я завжди працюю завзято.
Мій спокій розлився по тілу,
нарешті я зможу поспати
таке моє зараз діло -
між стуками медитувати.
Peter Nov 2024
I didn't start the war.  
I swear it wasn't me!  
I was sitting in my bedroom,  
listening to music and drinking tea.  

I have no reason to fight,  
to ****, or retaliate.  
I despise violence;  
I also meditate.  

I don't follow the news;  
I'd say they rather follow me.  
My only crime is that I  
feel for those who were killed.  

And yes, I cried when I saw  
a woman hugging her dead child.  
Her eyes were red from screaming  
into the silence of the sky.  

Yes, I cried when I saw her;  
I couldn't stop my tears.  
My only crime is that I  
feel for those who were killed.
Why
Interrupt
Your
Enemy
While
He's
Making
A
Mistake.
War
Next page