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Tya N'dom Mar 22
Dear Charlie,

Don’t worry about me, I am doing all alright
Today I ate a Rhubarb custard pie
Like mom used to cook when we would’ve cried
Or when we finished eating dinner late in the night

Then, we played "Beat Your Neighbor Out Of Doors"
And we wagered collectible cigarette packs
I have won a Lucky strike just like yours
So I exchange it for a bugles and dots snack

Later, we listened to the radio
Everyone knew: “It's a Long Way to Tipperary"
I looked at some memorable photos
Even the one with grandpa who stayed temporarily

Finishing the day, I read the book you gave me
Looking at the sky, reminiscing our memories
At the end of the day, I cherish you greatly
So, little brother, don’t worry about me
Amoy Mar 8
In the ***** fields the red plant glows
Shining bright row by rows
Highlighting our opiates blight
Soldier by soldier I save tonight
Ease their pain do it right
For they may stray towards the light
Tya N'dom Jan 18
The tiny soldier

Scream and angers came into my life
Run as fast as you can to survive
Blurred vision and smoke in the sky
There is nothing I can do but cry

The promise of coming back will be broken in small piece
All the memories gone in a blank space
When my family will come to me and see Rest In Peace
I would not let them with disgrace

“Dale, straight line , they are approaching”
Keep a hushed tone while crawling
Trenches are falling and no more safe
henceforth I have no longer faith

Not a feeling, no more pain
Like a flower laying on the rain
Blood dropping without time spend
I will only see darkness before it ends
18/01/19
First poem written
Wet mud and soil
and in the fray,
in the barrage of bullets,
He stands triumphantly.

His allies are dead,
His family are lost to him.
Behind him a flag waves and
Between the stripes and stars,
Splatters of blood soak the cloth.

Over the ocean, they hold the flag high.
For as the father of their country sits in an office
young men and woman die for him.
The flag of red, blue and white.
A symbol of patriotism to some.

To others though,
The flag waves blood, suffocation and bone.
Even those that hold it high.

For as the saliva of the war-hungry man
Drips from his lips,
And as the rotten words sprout from his pungent tongue,
Soldiers die with guns at their hips
And now the clock with hands on 12 is finally rung.
"Brothers will fight one another
and **** one another.
Cousins will break peace
with one another.
The world will be a hard place to live in.

"…an age of the axe, an age of the sword,
an age of storms, an age of wolves.
Shields will be cloven."

Brothers fought one another
and killed one another.
Cousins broke peace
with one another.
The world was a hard place to live in.

But this is no battlefield of
gods and men
Nor triumph over fell beast
and the splitting of shields.

This is the exploding shell
down cobbled streets of old;
of thatched roofs ablaze,  
the ashen ruin of hearth and abode;
The weeping eye of Theotokos
in Ragnarǫk’s gaze.

Two decades before;
football on Christmas morn’.
'Stille Nacht' from the trench,
that soothing tune.

Giving of gifts and handshakes
And smiles in between,
When it first dawned upon you:
You were brothers.
Vǫluspá in the Poetic Edda details the mythological Norse end of the world; Verse 44 constitutes the introduction of my poem.
Aaron LaLux Aug 2016
Rio Olympics

No more fun and games,
Olympics in Rio,
to get ready for the games,
they cleared out the barrios,

where does tomorrow go,
once it’s gone,
from expectation to memory,
along with the setting sun,

Son,
you don’t know me,
allow me to introduce myself,
I’m Aaron Lux I’m a writer,
and I believe knowledge is wealth,

stealth lover yes,
not a stealth fighter jet,
because if you ask me how we can stop ISIS,
I’ll say let’s release the Happy Mist,

they’ll just call it Happy Clouds,

serious as a heart attack with  Cirrus clouds of Happy Mist,

or better yet,
Nimbus clouds,
and citrus sounds,
our reigns begun,
this is a flood not trickle down,

no more fun and games,
Olympics in Rio
to get ready for the games,
they cleared out the barrios,

where does tomorrow go,
once it’s gone,
from expectation to memory,
along with the setting sun,

and speaking of sun,
we are live at the Apollo,
like the Greek God of the same name,
trying to fill all theses hearts we meet that are hollow,

hello,
do you want something to believe in,
well how about world peace,
for the people and the planet that we live on,

honestly,

and that is why when I see war,
I don’t think the only way to stop it is violence,
because if you fight fire with fire then you’ll burn the whole world down,
and I’m an eager volunteer fire fighter that’s first in and a final finalist,

where is the Happy Mist,
let’s cover the gun smoke with love soak,
let’s saturate the masses maybe then they won’t be so classless,
and let’s write down this idea before we forget it in our deep pocketbook…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Lachlan Rocca Jun 2015
He’s gone away forever,
Mother says he’ll be back soon,
But it’s going to be just like dad.
He’s been away since June.

It’s hard to hold back tears
When mother speaks his name
I falter upon telling her
That he’ll never be back again

The night before he went
He sat down by my bed
“You take good care of mother”
That’s the last thing that he said.

He went to war out of hatred
Which blurred his sense of love
For those he held so sacred.
And now he sits above.

— The End —