Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Rayan Kareem Nov 18
Which path thee follow
Oh cavalary dark as night

Erased from tomorrow
Just a shadow out of sight

Yet thee doesnt feel sorrow
About all that thee fight

Now tell me how hollow
Does one have to be in this fight?

General, ghost forgotten
Wont see the day and light

Lieutenant, shadow begotten
Doomed to sleep for life

Soldiers, families awaiting
That they return alright

Tell me oh cavalary
Is thee stuck in the night?
I long for the future,
but the future thinks not,
for the future desires only
to betray and delay expectations
and youthful desires.
It relishes in disappointing
its once promising appearance.
Or perhaps my hatred is misplaced
and the blame isn’t on the future itself
but the people within:
a list of names whose hearts
are made of gunpowder and minds
think only to pull triggers and press buttons,
because that is the future we are given;
an execution of human rights.
Gerry Sykes Nov 17
A dead baby
  is a baby that's died
      in anyone's language.
Not surprisingly I am thinking of the terrible things happening in Israel and Gaza. I'm also speaking from the experience of loosing a son.
Jasmine Rose Nov 14
If you hear it just once, then it's an air strike.
Twice, means it's just a sonic boom.
While we wait anxiously,
deadly silence fills the room.
Those moments in between
feel like a lifetime.
Especially when
someone's life maybe on the line.
If we end up hearing the second sound
relief fills our hearts,
even though they just skipped a pound.
For at least we know that 2 sounds are just meant to entice fear.
While 1,
is meant to tear down
maybe a few lives
or maybe an entire town.
So, with windows open,
we wait
we hope
to hear that second sound.
This is what a normal day living in Lebanon currently feels like.
Francie Lynch Nov 11
Crosses white, poppies red,
Remember how, remember when
Pale petals fell from blooming roses,
And padded paths where freedom goes.
Fierce fires doused a would be hate,
To quench dry hearts, yours and mine.
Their love and duty burned paper chains
That shackled in war time.
Wise eyes, bright minds, aged souls, young hearts,
Traded rockers for grassy beds;
Gave up gray for blue-black youth,
Now honoured among the dead.
The rose that's guarded by the thorn,
Against the reach of many hands,
Does the same in all God's lands:
Yet still the life sap flows.
This time of year is here again,
But remember how, remember when
Canadian pulses beat taps then.
Remembrance Day must never end.
Remembrance Day, Canada
Bekah Halle Nov 11
How can we blindspot traumas and tragedies; wars?
But when consumed with ourselves,
our daily ‘stories’ and chores
We take our eyes off the sacred,
on to the trivial, but today they’re on Yours.
We remember the lives lost in conflict;
Lives lost in efforts for peace.
We remember and our praise we do not restrict!
I tremble at the thought of 40+ wars
Currently raging around the world at large,
May peace and forgiveness conquer despite our many collective flaws.
Millie Nov 6
Power surges, the energy in my veins. We have the right to change. Things don't stay the same, after all, life is only a game. Prepare your hearts for this is war, it's time to even the score. We will win, and that's a promise I'll give.
Aa Harvey Nov 3
All war is unjust


You celebrate your murderers like they won you a war
And what for?  Is my question.  Do you pass inspection?
No genuflection; no halo you own.
You gun down the innocent and gnaw on their bones,
Like the savages you are, you fallen stars,
Are dead to me.  I see such glee.
Oh the pain you reap.
Your just reward, for an unjust war,
For all are…is a silver star on your heart.


(C)2023 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Ken Pepiton Oct 26
Spukhafte Fernwirkung//
-ping

On the morning
of March 16, 1968, American soldiers
from "C" Company came
into the village of My Lai…
-Conti's testimony, he stayed
Second tour he got arrested,
he was an armorer for First Cav,
I know a guy who knew him
when he got arrested, on duty.
About 1970, before Cambodia.
Back at the itch to think about 1968
from 16 MAR 68,
spooky was a DC3 with six miniguns,
spending nickles by the ton.
spukhafte Fernwirkung//
-ping

The next day, these toes
on the end
of me,
touched the tarmac
at Bien Hoa, beginning this memory
of instants, impressionistic
at best, something like YouTube shorts
taken
from chronological context
to fit the news between ads
for aging related aches and pains past
and present.
mehr spukhafte Fernwirkung//
-ping

In my 20 year old self,
in quest of lines showing duty done,
on my political career Résumé of fitness
to lead, to  me being mentored by Newt,
in American History, as he saw it, true,
Newt forsaw the EMP threat, and
scored an audience of told yous,
proud to have learned bullet
making after school… at the NRA clubhouse.
und mehr//
-ping ping ping

Triumphs and Indians, ' never saw a flathead Harley
until the summer of 1969, I saw the wreck, a Harley
wrung young Jimmie Hudgins neck, and he lived,
but he never went with us who did, and came back
as different as night and day, other people,
through and through,
truly on another trail, beyond the reason used in war.
fur spukhafte Fernwirkung
we took to spirit warring, with quarks
on our side, holding this thought

Pop, we inhabit bubbles as big as we imagine.
I long believed we live in bubbles of all we know.

I was wrong.
Become unmazed, unentangled, literally
free to define what you leave be true,
testy, feisty, wanna fight?
Or phuckaround with physics and spells,

Hallowed has meaning, yet, amen?

Even odds, live to the end…

Revelation
See, I had been infected,
seeing as I held
memories and lines,
I took for testimony Stephen Crane
put to ink, made me link that
now, not then, to a canvas,
Ms. Butler's Roll Call,
any
one approaching
the age where children are taken for war,

National Religio Significado duty accepted
as each pledged aliegiance, under God,
or else the communist spectre
brought unspeakable
horrors of HIROSHIMA!

Downwinder's loved to watch the flashes
- line on  crypto classification;
- subject locus south of river
On my DD 214, I was eligible to live on
Partaking of Largesse I earned by being
still alive and secretly, something
of National Pride Proving Passage right,
my nation, now,
pays me to breathe,
and learn until I die or ever happens,
Popt to your situation, reading
not involved,
after all
way beyond ever
after that revelation,

this is it, we did not die, nowhat,
Put on this mind, think these words,
you are you at last phaze myelination,
or your signals are phading,
but we got clear text 5 by 5, read on
seem
a survivor
of a specified exposure
to war,
a year, was deemed enough, and enough
to share
on circumstantial instances
when you think
okeh, what good could I do if
I accepted the truth
of the tree
of knowledge teaching only permanently

through experience passed through
and seen from this side… so then

I freely say, I know, what this is…
my life's cache of idle words, accounted for,
and activated
wise decision weighs against luck,
choosing liberal arts and sciences
to become a force made right
by the blood of Jesus to fight
any enemy
so declared,
by God's local employees
and the men He arranged
to be shaped
into wielders o
f carnal weapons, so awesome
cost for the risk not taken
2024 chances, short odds
of the answering invention's wise domain
above all answering witty inventions used

- to blow our little holy relics to dust

to make boys believe there is glory
found in fighting
for Nobel aspirations,
for asking noble questions, much glory
-+- does peace made
with words earn,
to deal with
all ra' adversity to intricately, functionally
beautiful towb be left to become the message.

God's chosen Nation's policy of people use.

{https://www.rct.uk/collection/405915/the-roll-call}
As Stephen Crane has been said to have said:
They come, I write them, that's all they mean until you read them
Stephen Crane
. In terms of style and inclinations, he borrowed from many categories but settled on none; he was a Romantic, an impressionist, a Symbolist, a naturalist, a realist, a Modernist.

oeuvre or opera,
operational patterns impressing
conscientious objects indelibly,
meme grit destined to be teardrop pearls.

A Man Said to the Universe

By Stephen Crane
A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”

In the Desert

By Stephen Crane
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, *******,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”

Source: Twentieth-Century American Poetry (2004)
Next page