"colonels" poems - Hello Poetry

Peace is a weapon against the smallness of self that excuses war. Peace is the sharp blade pruning the olive branches, never drawing blood Peace is soothing balm for quarrel and division instilled by zealots; Peace is the watch-word that makes soldiers deserters of lower causes. Peace desires itself, making no root in travail for other peoples; Peace says, "Don't enlist to be a pawn in the games of elite slavers." Peace has no Colonels, Lieutenants, or Generals: merely the faithful. Peace is the Only. No other weapon shall do against each other.

0

Aug 10, 2014

Aug 10, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC

misadventuresofcrow

Peace is a Weapon

Peace is a weapon against the smallness of self that excuses war. Peace is the sharp blade pruning the olive branches, never drawing blood Peace is soothing balm for quarrel and division instilled by zealots; Peace is the watch-word that makes soldiers deserters of lower causes. Peace desires itself, making no root in travail for other peoples; Peace says, "Don't enlist to be a pawn in the games of elite slavers." Peace has no Colonels, Lieutenants, or Generals: merely the faithful. Peace is the Only. No other weapon shall do against each other.

24

At the Biafran front, I fought Tearing down Nigerians With shots of guns We fought like men Defending our lands But with risk and fear As some went blind Among our troops Were hatred and envy Tribalism of doom Had taken over our army. Alongside my brother We triggered together Tearing down men Like pales of feathers. As a boy of sixteen I saw terror in fifteen Behold dead men lay like weeds Vultures had enough to feed Among the dead people I saw my old father, he died still feeble. Turning to my right Lay my mother, sister at flight My hands became weak And my heart did bleed They were killed by the army Which I fought that they live. Biafra was in famine As children starved to death A thousand Igbos massacred at night As our troops retreat to die. Nigeria flew their jets Bombing no one but children and old women A grenade caught my brother And I knew it all be over. The seaways were surrounded Nigerian Navy locked us in our grave No weapon came to Biafra Even our camouflage had become rags Enugu; capital of Biafra had been captured There's nothing left, except to be raptured. Oron and Calabar fell Nigeria sent us hell So in battle front we had Nothing more than matchets and planks Our major had ran And we were left, to die at our hands. With fear, my fellows fell The fear of death, none could tell I ran through the forest Finding way for my escape Lo there was a tunnel And so I escaped Colonels. Fifty thousand fighters quite survived it They were buried alive In mass graves for their deeds. Down in my tunnel of sleep I saw my family in the deep Papa, I called aloud my father He said go for the war is over. Biafra had surrendered But I had lost an arm Millions had died Diseases did bade them bye The war, famine did sail them high Though a soldier I survived. I had lost my home family and lineage. What would I do with a withered arm? Flies had really fed it by As the last man alive, No one cared whether I die. So I died a lonely death With no one to cry

0

Oct 14, 2016

Oct 14, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC

george-nsikak

The Fight For Biafra

At the Biafran front, I fought Tearing down Nigerians With shots of guns We fought like men Defending our lands But with risk and fear As some went blind Among our troops Were hatred and envy Tribalism of doom Had taken over our army. Alongside my brother We triggered together Tearing down men Like pales of feathers. As a boy of sixteen I saw terror in fifteen Behold dead men lay like weeds Vultures had enough to feed Among the dead people I saw my old father, he died still feeble. Turning to my right Lay my mother, sister at flight My hands became weak And my heart did bleed They were killed by the army Which I fought that they live. Biafra was in famine As children starved to death A thousand Igbos massacred at night As our troops retreat to die. Nigeria flew their jets Bombing no one but children and old women A grenade caught my brother And I knew it all be over. The seaways were surrounded Nigerian Navy locked us in our grave No weapon came to Biafra Even our camouflage had become rags Enugu; capital of Biafra had been captured There's nothing left, except to be raptured. Oron and Calabar fell Nigeria sent us hell So in battle front we had Nothing more than matchets and planks Our major had ran And we were left, to die at our hands. With fear, my fellows fell The fear of death, none could tell I ran through the forest Finding way for my escape Lo there was a tunnel And so I escaped Colonels. Fifty thousand fighters quite survived it They were buried alive In mass graves for their deeds. Down in my tunnel of sleep I saw my family in the deep Papa, I called aloud my father He said go for the war is over. Biafra had surrendered But I had lost an arm Millions had died Diseases did bade them bye The war, famine did sail them high Though a soldier I survived. I had lost my home family and lineage. What would I do with a withered arm? Flies had really fed it by As the last man alive, No one cared whether I die. So I died a lonely death With no one to cry

72

Silk, satin, velvet and lace Bloomers aghast from raunchy strutting Down the streets of London 1840 Men would drink arsenic To be under your thrall Asphyxiating themselves to be with you The Colonels daughter Out at night Footsteps like raindrops you ditched your pantyhose For delicious drips on your toes Your fangs catching the light of the lunar eclipse on full The hunt is on

0

Mar 25, 2015

Mar 25, 2015 at 8:37 PM UTC

lachrymose-and-lies

Catrin

Silk, satin, velvet and lace Bloomers aghast from raunchy strutting Down the streets of London 1840 Men would drink arsenic To be under your thrall Asphyxiating themselves to be with you The Colonels daughter Out at night Footsteps like raindrops you ditched your pantyhose For delicious drips on your toes Your fangs catching the light of the lunar eclipse on full The hunt is on

13

Too many injuries To count. Two days ago, I lost my Eye. Kernels pop, Colonels hop to get the popcorn. Dessert is served; the Desert makes Ice-cream taste great. I scream silently when I realize They're gone, they've gone too deep. Their souls swim in darkness. There, deep in the dark, Martin may never reach Nemo... Stupid Dory.

0

Apr 18, 2013

Apr 18, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC

innocent-vanity

Movie night in the army.

Too many injuries To count. Two days ago, I lost my Eye. Kernels pop, Colonels hop to get the popcorn. Dessert is served; the Desert makes Ice-cream taste great. I scream silently when I realize They're gone, they've gone too deep. Their souls swim in darkness. There, deep in the dark, Martin may never reach Nemo... Stupid Dory.

15

Absurd accumulations, broad- cloth's to wipe each bays station! What a joke of clownery tools.Irritated refuge, instigated neices and nephews miss their woeful father's.... One for a count, a whole cell to a slaughter. Down and out lane I make mine way to your lonesome hell, where ankh arched wells draw back from higher hills..Robust outbreak of plentiful disease, orthopedics outclass your sneeze!!!! Ovation applauded to ******** alike!!! Ordaters to outvoted daters, silence is thy key to your miserable life!!!! Pasturage for slobs, corn for all cobs, your colonels panel design twists slow around the vine!!!! Seconds until six, ten minutes until nine....... Will you behave like the boy you should be? Or could have been?,

0

May 9, 2015

May 9, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

militarian communistic-

Absurd accumulations, broad- cloth's to wipe each bays station! What a joke of clownery tools.Irritated refuge, instigated neices and nephews miss their woeful father's.... One for a count, a whole cell to a slaughter. Down and out lane I make mine way to your lonesome hell, where ankh arched wells draw back from higher hills..Robust outbreak of plentiful disease, orthopedics outclass your sneeze!!!! Ovation applauded to ******** alike!!! Ordaters to outvoted daters, silence is thy key to your miserable life!!!! Pasturage for slobs, corn for all cobs, your colonels panel design twists slow around the vine!!!! Seconds until six, ten minutes until nine....... Will you behave like the boy you should be? Or could have been?,

6

This is the Field Marshall, tall and grand, Who bellowed at Generals beneath his command, Who shouted at Brigadiers in fine attire, Who hollered at Colonels to make them jump higher, Who screeched at the Majors and caused them to shake, Who yelled at the Captains to keep them awake, Who squawked at Lieutenants to keep them in line, Who wailed at the Sergeants in double quick time, Who shrieked at the Corporals and made them feel small, Who screamed at the Privates worth nothing at all, Who stood in the trenches and will never forget, When they ran a man through with a fixed bayonet, And held his hands tightly, as watching him die, They whispered to no one, "Oh why, but oh why?"

0

Sep 19, 2014

Sep 19, 2014 at 12:30 AM UTC

tryst

Why Oh Why?

This is the Field Marshall, tall and grand, Who bellowed at Generals beneath his command, Who shouted at Brigadiers in fine attire, Who hollered at Colonels to make them jump higher, Who screeched at the Majors and caused them to shake, Who yelled at the Captains to keep them awake, Who squawked at Lieutenants to keep them in line, Who wailed at the Sergeants in double quick time, Who shrieked at the Corporals and made them feel small, Who screamed at the Privates worth nothing at all, Who stood in the trenches and will never forget, When they ran a man through with a fixed bayonet, And held his hands tightly, as watching him die, They whispered to no one, "Oh why, but oh why?"

14

Hey there You there Standing with the director In his chair Talking about the right actor Slick back your blonde hair While you’re mouthing to him Talking about the movies Sends you into a hitch Time to talk about that ***** Who is up next You know you’re not in the right situation It’s time for the nation Let’s go again For the new generation Looking at the congressmen With badges pinned across their ******* And a politically-correct three-piece suit With their largess Drenched in sweat Driving the rally into the unknown folly To fear the unknown people of foreign cities More than just a sign It’s all in our precious time The high-rollers In their representative fashions Taking over the world And committing all the crimes But that is just all they do Let’s be moving on too What about the generals, brigadiers and captains and colonels With their epaulettes and patriotic decorations Conspiring against the nation Like chameleons Thanks to their post With ideas Those are insidiously of corruption As they stand host To nations feasting on war And diplomacy at the most Political amusement isn’t it The dichotomy of having aliens Deported And these braver politicos star in their expensive overcoats See themselves getting promoted It’s rather fun When the bourgeoisie With their Large brim hats To protect them from the sun Cash in More money and hate More than religious faith Innocents supposedly drowned in sin Don’t know when good will begin With the Catholic Church Being a prison of beliefs Since the inception of time Changing political opinion as we speak Which brought forth with it unnatural urge Hilarious isn’t it when politics starts to stink When the crowds go berserk as they scream For more religious retaliation and a lost dream Fun isn’t it For the vengeance seeking righteous prisons Who wish their prisoners burn in the crimes That they spin Before they can live out of those times And their whims But who is to blame The heart isn’t tame Is it God Who has made it rough For the virtuous inferno of actions That has been extinguished by the holy water of circumstance and disdain Isn’t it easy to blame our surroundings Rather than our actions and our fate

0

Sep 7, 2017

Sep 7, 2017 at 1:45 PM UTC

aditya-roy

Righteous Times In Unrighteous Lines

Hey there You there Standing with the director In his chair Talking about the right actor Slick back your blonde hair While you’re mouthing to him Talking about the movies Sends you into a hitch Time to talk about that ***** Who is up next You know you’re not in the right situation It’s time for the nation Let’s go again For the new generation Looking at the congressmen With badges pinned across their ******* And a politically-correct three-piece suit With their largess Drenched in sweat Driving the rally into the unknown folly To fear the unknown people of foreign cities More than just a sign It’s all in our precious time The high-rollers In their representative fashions Taking over the world And committing all the crimes But that is just all they do Let’s be moving on too What about the generals, brigadiers and captains and colonels With their epaulettes and patriotic decorations Conspiring against the nation Like chameleons Thanks to their post With ideas Those are insidiously of corruption As they stand host To nations feasting on war And diplomacy at the most Political amusement isn’t it The dichotomy of having aliens Deported And these braver politicos star in their expensive overcoats See themselves getting promoted It’s rather fun When the bourgeoisie With their Large brim hats To protect them from the sun Cash in More money and hate More than religious faith Innocents supposedly drowned in sin Don’t know when good will begin With the Catholic Church Being a prison of beliefs Since the inception of time Changing political opinion as we speak Which brought forth with it unnatural urge Hilarious isn’t it when politics starts to stink When the crowds go berserk as they scream For more religious retaliation and a lost dream Fun isn’t it For the vengeance seeking righteous prisons Who wish their prisoners burn in the crimes That they spin Before they can live out of those times And their whims But who is to blame The heart isn’t tame Is it God Who has made it rough For the virtuous inferno of actions That has been extinguished by the holy water of circumstance and disdain Isn’t it easy to blame our surroundings Rather than our actions and our fate

76