#civilwar
Look
We've become,
A gaunt, haunt-eyed
Veteran of violence.
A brother can't love a brother
Lest they agree with each other.
Our sisters are dying
Because of you.
Everyone's a domino; who's first? A turn
Of the air could
Break a world of domino.
Do it or don't and this.
So many ultimatums,
I can't help but wonder
When we'll tire of them.
In We Trust
The Temple
Of Bel, this state.
Nothing else,
Only vengeances
Satiate.
Bayonets,
Surgery, steady!
Musketeers,
Cavalry, ready!
Trenches
Dug, last
Words
Sung, next
Up
Is - - - - -
I see bodies in the clouds,
But I won't see mine own.
They'll fracture before then.
Oh, my , don't you know
How much I love you? Yes,
But I know how much.
Oct 11, 2025
Oct 11, 2025 at 2:57 AM UTC
This, this, is where we are
the crux of rebellion, of civil unrest
as in once upon a parade, in a car..
a bullet lodged, in his head
We'll look back pon now, and not understand
one man in a crowd, and he's dead
excuses to be made, for even more raids
more inflammatory words.....to be said
Violence at peak, no peace do we seek
political the animal, born of 10 horns
It will not rise in the east, for blood is the feast
as now in the west... is the norm
Brother to brother, blood once more to be shed
for no noble cause, or belief
******* and moaning, politics well fed
counting the enemies.....dead
No land of the free, for you, or for me
not now far, comes blood in the streets
we'll all say we saw, without seeing
how America came too.........defeat.......
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 6:12 PM UTC
They said passing by me that they would put out their eyes,
The clouds did as they died across the battlefield,
As the gauzy horses stanched the wept blood,
As the thorns, gnats, and briers, wound into
A dove’s nest of bayonets and knives,
The clouds died in insurrection,
And the night breathed freely and the stars cleared the mud.
Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 1:54 PM UTC
The farmhand burns the leaves, though the bodies of slaves
Lie at heaven’s impasse in the trees of dying looks, barring them
From peaceful death, the sad emulsified perch of love and heat,
Hung at noon like John Brown untended, bearded of sticky summer,
Heavy-headed swinging noon and the smell of honeysuckle blood,
Fetid day like the coming dirt of graves, the clinging air of disease,
Snake-winding down from the trees with no pleasure of the bitten apple.
Feb 16, 2020
Feb 16, 2020 at 3:19 PM UTC
My heart is at war with my mind
About what's wrong and what's right
When there really is no black and white
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 8:30 AM UTC
You who have never known the loveliness of love,
Gather your heads on the torn pillow’s edge of mud,
Under the wood-tar shadows of camphor-aided sleep,
Where your low-flung groans are starvations of sound,
And the amputated clouds, insinuated with gangrene
And blood-stained woods, are still bound to the shooting
Stars that fell beside you and flung up hissing rays of grass.
Parents of the midnight sky, the stolen stars of your children
Open their broken mouths to the battlefield heart of trespass.
To their soldiers’ eyes, the floor of heaven is uncut grass,
Wet with rain and mold and the unlifted wings of Pegasus,
Whose unearthly hoof to unearthly earth scuffs the clod
Of the lunette for the cannons to divulge the great, stuttering
Coda of everything old, malformed of breath and bone.
Some grass somewhere will now seem the hair of a sweetheart,
And those dead eyes will aways stare, too fond of love unknown.
So the dead soldier and grass and sky conspire to hold a woman,
So the soldier makes the truce between earth and sky,
Between man and the divine, though the chestnut trees
In red human tongues, pay their deep-forested encomium to distance,
In misspilled gorgeousness like Apollo surveying his own tomb.
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
America, unveiled in frugal agendas
secreted in roots of regal cypress
terminal in nature, resounding.
There has died and been buried,
a man so little known,
his flock of fledglings, so rarely
returned, echoed youthful
calls and whistles across spirits
of tomorrow. Young men beating
chests of perpetual, salacious sentiments, heralding: patriotic, passionate, eternal,
pestilent, dogmatic, sick. Hopeless aptitude lost
in pits, in trenches, in arrogant proposal,
monuments of soils erected
in earnest, divided in expectation,
by a standard of worthiness.
Casting shadows like youthful sorrows upon barren grounds such are souls.
The ringing charges they powdered
in optimistic principle besiege
timeless yods of heroism
laid upon an altar for remembrance.
A Hymn of servitude now sung
there, for those crushed beneath
crops of civility. Lecherous fathers
battling the sick condition of men
harvested on Little Round Top,
down Devil’s Den,
in the Best Western
Quality Inn.
every bone in glory
rest there.
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 6:27 PM UTC
Freedom is a mask.
We don both it and our colors,
oblivious to the snickers of our peers.
Like religion, patriotism separates us further.
How can one believe in a system
so corrupt?
Powerless yet powerful, we must stand,
lest another civil war commence.
Together, hand in hand, we
will create a new life for us all.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
my eyes were open for two years
fear, I couldn't close them, even when it was so clear
what had I just signed up for,
you swore, why are we in a civil war
waiting for you to just ******* crash
but with your stash, you're having a blast
drifting away from reality,
carefree, giving me the third degree, you lost me
control couldn't save you
and neither could I
I knew we just both had to survive
I felt weak, but now I know I was strong
my eyes were tired for being open for so **** long
you didn't just crash, you ******* burned
you burned all of your bridges with no where left to turn
flight or fight, fright, I can't trust you without a ******* knife,
I closed my eyes, finally, and I suddenly gained all sight
I didn't need a reason to help you
but maybe I wanted to close my eyes again
maybe I wanted peace, a close to an end
because for two years,
I couldn't close my eyes
so thank you
now I am wise
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 1:16 AM UTC
What does it mean to be a slave?
To be stripped of everything that God gave.
To be wondering and planning every single night
Whether it’s worth to leave and risk your life
Imagine a flower at a flower shop
First cut away from the rest of the crop
Then sold to a man that they never knew
Either left to wither
Or sold anew
Even though it’s a beautiful flower
It’s treated like a **** and subjected to power
If it tries to grow it’s own path anew
It will be forced back down
Now a flower in blue
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC
Skull and Bones free markets calling,
we're sailing off with your income's falling...
Skull and Bone's gain, -your hurt;
all your fetid industries we do subvert...
Skull and Bones my outlaw swear!
on the altar I cremate the care!
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 11:40 AM UTC
I confess, without shame, I am sick
and tired of fighting—its glory is
all moonshine; even success
the most brilliant is over dead
and mangled bodies, with the
anguish and lamentations of distant
families, appealing to me for sons,
husbands and fathers; tis only those
who have never heard a shot,
never heard the shriek and groans
of the wounded and lacerated that cry
aloud for more blood, more vengeance,
more desolation
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
I share-nowan-do
I share-nowan-do
I share-nowan-do
Fu shew-away u blacks
Icehousey, buddie wiser are..my MAN-he he hein kin..
Dan tell me wat fugshuis -Denmark!
SHRI DENMARK!
VUBAKS go
go Alaska, Africa, be free then...den
My Grandfather stood at Antietam
VUBAKS go
These medals, pins, regalia, -so special.
...not general... like you...
SPE i -CIAL
Der idsey con Tan nint-in shew balon to.
VUBAKS go
Everybody knows, civilization was created by Whiskey!
...whiskey...
Der idsey con Tan nint-in shew balon to.
I share-nowan-do
I share-nowan-do
I share-nowan-do
VEE SHAR NO WAN DO-O....
I voted for Drumpf
*I share-nowan-do
I share-nowan-do
I share-nowan-do*
SHRI TRUMPF -D
yeah...yeah
ISA
de-urdsey
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
I was so busy building a wall to keep everyone out
that I didn’t realize I was locking myself in.
Now I’m completely trapped within myself
and the civil war for my soul begins.
I’m left alone to tear down a wall that was built to keep hundreds out.
My monsters are winning this war and I will soon perish in my doubt.
A vulture is the only thing I can see
mocking me from the boundaries of my wall.
Soon it will be his time to dine
as I think I’ll leave my body by nightfall.
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 7:55 PM UTC
I say,
become a leveller
and
revel in equality,
if needs be
Sexby
to flatten the
country.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 3:14 PM UTC
I saw you once again,
When you are no more,
Picture perfect, on screen,
As the image in my mind....
Sari draped, clinging to your youthful figure,
I remember your smooth dark skin,
I remember your curves,
I remember your little secret...
The future we built up,
Walking along those salty shores,
I remember our innocent dreams,
Your youthful hearts sweet smile.....
I saw you once again,
When you are no more,
Picture perfect, on screen,
As the image in my mind.
Like a sweet illusion,
Lasting for a fraction of a second,
Which I wish I could grab and hold.....
Before you blasted,
With our banned love,
With our lost dreams.......
My betrayed love
And my lonely soul remains......
From whom did you take revenge, love?
From me? From yourself?
Or was it just an easy escape,
From this bizarre world?
Or was it really for The Cause?
A cause unclear... a cause evil...
Cause, not really mine or yours.....
A cause worth giving up Love????????????
You were just 24.......
Draped in your favorite sari
Picture perfect, in my mind
Like an illusion, My lost love..............
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bV-5svC6okQ
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 7:44 AM UTC
Dear Lord,
Forgive me for my transgressions
For they are many and sundry
You have said that it is easier for a camel
To pass through a needle's eye
Than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God
I was once a rich man
Now I am but a traveler, a beggar
Among these Atlantan ruins
As low now as the Negroes among me once were
Who walk past, too busy or too proud to give a second thought
To my new state of affairs, my ***** arm outstretched to them
I owned twenty-five field Negroes at one time
I saw many whipped, and I whipped many
I saw my transgressions as justifiable by Holy Scripture
I was called a "Nigger-breaker", and prided myself as such
But pride is one of the Deadly Sins
And it brought your Wrath upon me
And upon my countrymen
As a terrible swift sword from the North
And as a Great Fire upon my land
I beseech thee, Lord, for forgiveness for my sins
For my hatred of the ***** has brought me only suffering
And pain and death to my family
My wife left, my two sons dead, my field-Negroes gone
Oh! How I wish I had not hated the *****
As I had before and as I do now
They were once property, vessels for men such as myself
To do with as they wish, to apply the lash, to love and caress
Now they are land-owners, oh! The cruelest change of affairs
"Those ****** ******* how I wish them dead!"
You might expect to hear uttered from these dry lips
But I am too tired and hungry to curse now
My throat is parched, my mouth is filled with cotton
Lord, I wish for you to take me now
And to let you decide what you wish to do with my soul
For I shall take either the Heavenly bliss I once believed I deserved
Or the unquenchable fires of Hell
But there cannot be a Hell worse than this, Lord
So now it is dark, and I am tired
I will close my eyes soon and fall asleep
Perhaps to wake tomorrow
Perhaps to never wake again
In your holy Name,
Amen
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
An experiment
Nefarious intentions
That is all we are
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
One eyed Doug is dead,
Mario told Trey
at the foot of the trail
where they caught each other
sneaking up to the old civil war fort.
they walked up together
where the trees made it
seem later in the day,
catching the stride
through the deep shadows to the top.
They heard the fire
cracking and voices stirring the embers,
stirring all the Coyote and Deer
to the outskirts, away from
Justin and Nick, resting at home,
Sitting with newly lit eyes
Glazed against the giant logs
Lava-tinged
Gargoyle’s roasting
slowly in the fire
Mario lifts the log
where Doug always sat, that somehow
never got burned.
He lifts it high,
like a ghost
they see in the slant
of the train bridge walls.
Shoves it hard
breaking open new fires
breaking apart
the civil war owl
rising up from the ashes
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
i aced my history classes
they teach you about the war in vietnam
they teach you about the revolutionary war
they teach you about the battle of the bulge
the civil war
but what
of the wars you will face within yourself?
those
are seldom talked about
people blow their own minds
up
with destructive behaviors and terrible choices
one soldier fighting both sides
the post-traumatic stress of their own human experience
hmmm?
what of those people.
what of me.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
Memories
Moans and groans of the dying and the living-dead
Last words: phrases that lingered
Still on their tongues
Bloods, boots and broken bones on cassava farms
where they fell
Crosses rotten, and this rusty brown shell
Tell stories of a past - that ****** movie
This ****** war
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC