"comradeship" poems
When are we going to wake up to start believing that we should stopped competing and start complimenting to feel like were completing.
We need to be a team player instead of the team leader, replacing that with the idea of being on the same team and building something that's takes on the dream.
How are we going to teach ourselves of what's needed to be taught? If we are communicating to each other's to misperceived when sought to read and believe of what’s being well-received.
Why are we all on this justification to be misrepresentation as to juxtapose when we are responsible for the I could and the I suppose.
To add what is the so what to the now what? But it's the actual what needs to be address in which perhaps misaddressing to the audience of nowadays. As if we are surrogate of the hideaways of the be real today.
It's we and us and all of us to address the matter of comradeship of how compassion of it to be who you are. To create this level of friendship of the desire to follow the footsteps of who you are and as it's start with you and it begins with and ending of you.
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
For Mike Marconett
of happy memory
Bright star, beyond a Sterno stove’s brief glow,
We’ll live forever as we live this night:
Coffee and cigarettes and comradeship,
Our backs against the sun-warmed Sierras
As the cold falls from infinite darkness
To keep the snow in place another night,
To smile in ancient silence back at you,
To make a glowing, slumberous twilight until dawn.
Those C-rations were good after a day
Of scrambling among pre-historic rocks
Made musical by the dinosaur creek,
Water as cold as the dark end of time.
San Diego glows in the south-southwest,
Silently, inefficiently, light lost.
But you, dear, happy star, will still shine down
On dreaming youths, tonight and other nights,
Counting for us, for them, each millennium.
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 4:06 PM UTC
The demon fly hath landed now intent upon it's task
**** Demon in its valedictory explorations grasp.
Embedded deep in kidneys, to cause me some concern.
A painful path to endgame and a Hellish lesson learned.
I pause a moment, think it out, it's one way or the other
I lost a mate the other day and last month, lost another.
Seems it is the season for the cataclysmic time
I'd rather it be elsewhere but I fear this one... is mine.
I've run a rough and winding track these rugged years of yore
Pulled the Dragons tail in jest and sought, yet, for more.
Rafted mighty rivers and flew the heavens high
And lifted my perception winging vaulting, clear blue sky.
I've known the velvet touch of love, the softness of her lips
The crash of waves on sandy shore caressing fingertips.
The swelling joy of childbirth, the pledge of mothers milk
And rock like bonds of marriage binding all within its ilk.
With thoughts a million miles away I've trudged this country lane
Pondered why, with voids approach, it engenders me no pain?
Wondering why it matters that the children shed a tear
When saddened, glancing passing eyes, are never really near.
Regret I'll never get to see my grove of rhodos bloom
Or sip the soothing whisky as I tap my toe in tune.
Or launch into the crazy surf and splash out to the rock
Nor lie in sun on baking sand admiring talent flock.
Meat pies with sauce at football with a cold beer in the hand
And the repartee with kindred minds in poetry unplanned,
That flash of inspirations' alliteration sprung
Brings the joy to mind of comradeship in Shakespeare's realm, unsung.
.....And then there's all that's left undone, the words, now, left unsaid
The notes of tragic violin hang in the air...unbled
And you there with the swimming eyes, what do I say to you?
It's all been grand, I kiss your hand....Adieu , my friend.... Adieu!
M.
Foxglove, Taranaki
New Zealand
20 October 2020
Oct 20, 2020
Oct 20, 2020 at 12:21 AM UTC
Elephants and donkeys
fighting it out in the trenches
My blue coat stained with the entrails
of orange trolls iv slain
in fierce hand to hand combat
fighting to keep us safe from the
filthy madman with no soul
Here in our trench
we bluecoats share a meal
and laugh among ourselves
strong hearts of brave
men and women
good people with a righteous cause
we tell tales of our exploits
slaying the never ending
lies that spew from the
despicable orange horde
A flash of light and explosion shatters
the night as the enemy releases some
photo-op or soundbite meant to destroy us
we all laugh
and shoot it full of holes
such weak lies are easily destroyed
We are Hillary Clinton's army
sent to do battle with the weak minded
and insane orange trolls
they fight in the name of evil
they fight in the name of the orange beast
We will win
there is no doubt in my heart
i look around me
proud comradeship
bluecoats defending the world
from the small minds of evil orange men
fight on brothers and sisters fight on
with Hillary leading us we will prevail
© 2016 mark john junor all rights reserved
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
It is a beautiful bird sanctuary
Where a sparrow chirps, a cuckoo sings
And the parrot talks and the mina speaks
And the peacock dances
There is a great comradeship among th e birds
But a proud crow inflitrates into the place
And prattles and boos the cuckoo
And mocks at the lark
The nightingale sings so melodiously
That all the birds clap and laugh
Except the crow who thinks his bark
Is greater than the song of a lark
He feels as though he were the king of
The park and thinks his bark is sweeter than
A parrot’s talk and greater than a peacock’s
Walk. How long can he bark?
The crow is like a poison in a bowl of manna
How long will the birds bear their woes?
A day comes when they will kick the crow out
He will surely be out of sight
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 6:13 AM UTC
the days all seem to blend into one
long song of regaling minstrels of mixed temperament
and poets of a different tongue
all she can say to you as she shows you the door
is that she wishes you well
and hopes you enjoyed the ride
cause you know its the right thing to do
and she kisses your cheek
out into the night you shuffle
you wander the carnival of the city streets
and wonder at the creatures of night
who don't need a home to know who they were born to be
who don't need directions to know right from wrong
the passive shadow
retreats across the floor
as the day slips
my gaze rides the rays
out the window to
breathtaking panorama of sky
but after few moments
the skies silent awe evaporates
as day crowds back in
these are days in the length of my years
that i pause to ponder the small ripples
the slight thing that becomes a tidal wave
later in life
sets in like the worn heel
of favored running shoes
its bitter dregs taste sweet in comparison
to the taste of her eyes as she rejected the venture
its a fine gift
like a box of gold
like a treasure of the soul
but it is not real
it is not true
it is simply a feeling of comradeship
a heartfelt desire that things could be different
late afternoon sunlight
through the narrow window
falls on the burnished oak
bringing to life the the beloved scents
of childhood home
my parents library
of books spread through the house
and all that knowledge that once thought was so precious
has turned into a phone that dont ring
the passive shadow
retreats across the floor
as the day slips
my gaze rides the rays
out the window to
breathtaking panorama of sky
but after few moments
the skies silent awe evaporates
as day crowds back in
and i remember that i was once a footloose son
and once danced in the dust of a summer sun
with a girl wearing a rose printed dress
and all seemed so right and true that day
and it was
and it was
these are days in the length of my years
that i pause to ponder the small ripples
the slight thing that becomes a tidal wave
later in life
these days are long gone before they ever came
aint that just like her
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Tis past midnight and all alone
Where's comradeship and love??
A world that's gone to sleep
Has no room for a lonely soul
The sounds of snores around
But none , to ease your qualms.
Laugh and the world laughs with you
Cry and you cry all alone
what you lost none other has
What you missed,has none other
Your pains are yours alone
Your gains many to share
Your sorrows you alone to bear
No shoulder to call your own
Laughing faces many all day
But none the kinship of pain
All with you when smiles abound
None when heartaches sear
Laugh and the world laughs with you
Cry and you cry all alone.
Once they laughed with you
Now sleeping still and sound
Their means to life, have found.
But you all lost and stiff
Oh Chardonnay and spice
My comrades for life
My pains you understand
Love is a cheat untrue
There's nothing more uncouth
It's just a word for fools
No grain of truth no proof
None cares no one tears.
None's there's a waiting for you
No supper warm, no hearth
All alone you are, you are
Come home to me myself
You thought love's a great word
But living is only by bread
Love fills not the stomach
What fills does matter, nothing else!!
Don't laugh don't cry just live
She was not not yours, not yours never!
Naught can change the course, survival
Bread and water, no butter no jam.
Laugh and the world laughs with you
Cry and you cry as you do!!
Tis past midnight and you all alone
That's your life and you live it as you do.
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC
Going with the flow
Is against the Crow's style
Wondering about looking for edibles
To shove in his snout
He caws to his community
When there is a lot to be had
Calling out quickly
When things turn bad
A bird of the air
He pays no fare
Alive and well
Sharing a comradeship
With the Pigeons
Whilst dodging traffic
But more to his liking
His friend of the feather the Starling
These birds are not like those others
There is no going south for them
Winter through next Fall when the Crow isn't flying
He ***** his head and struts about standing tall
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
News! News! in its surrealistic gear,
Charles Darwin of England has resurrected,
He is here in Africa, roaming the deserts
In the savannah belts of Turkana Land,
Looking for African skulls for a second living.
He is in the company of Richard Leakey,
Talking among themselves with air of comradeship,
Behaving wiseacre over the Africans there,
Looking from place to place to rename
The current African humans,
He has already named people of Kenya
And all the people in the subhara of Africa
With a new paradoxical evolutionary tag,
They are now homotribaliticus Africanus,
A tag reflecting African tribalism in politics,
He has met the Chinese and renamed them too,
They are now homo-pecunias asianicus
Or the money making Asians,
Darwin has freshly renamed Americans
This time round not as caucasoids,
But as homocapitalisticus putinis stupidous,
His shrewdness did not go with erstwhile death,
He also has s pecial evolutionary tag for Africans
Zinjipoliticus idioticus, or the fools who die politically.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
they would wriggle their tongues,
teasing each other, from
opposite sides of the fence,
of sharp protrudes, which
could not cut the thread,
by which they were joined,
their comradeship intact, with
an amalgam of childish love,
and the simple plain desire,
of being with the other
through the window, of the
structures, that stood apart,
divided by a brick wall,
the tentacle eyed would
look, at the blooming friendship,
ready to plunge, their venom
into the hearts, of the innocents,
bidding for the time, when they
could feed, the mouths of them,
with the bitter seed, of animosity,
many years passed, everything passed,
the walls of those cursed shelters,
had bounded down, all that remained
was that fence, the knives of which
had gone blunt, and on the either side,
stood those, who knew each other once,
aware of the vacant space, in their chests,
(the yarn had gone loose, but there
was still a hope left, everything
had not gone, into trash yet)
on the gravel ground, they were stagnant,
reviving what was snatched from them,
how they were cheated, and left with
the ache, of losing what was theirs,
their eyes pierced, their souls apart,
and they veered away, not able to
grasp the pain, of their small lives,
losing balance, of the truth, they gained,
they walked away, finding their own ways,
what it was, it was lost, and that was all
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
Things that make us different, are not all to do with genes?
There is more to life than history, how we speak or look.
Environment, upbringing is maybe where it starts,
But life’s experience brings closeness that’s difficult to part.
Friends we grew up with, shared secrets of our youth,
Good things and bad only they would know the truth.
Through working years, problem times and strife,
Bringing comradeship that could last all our life.
As we grow older friends sometimes slip apart,
Leaving only those who are closest to our heart.
Now memories that we share really deep inside,
Of tears, pain, happiness and occasionally of pride.
Something brought us closer than simple little genes,
Maybe its life itself, things behind the scenes.
If I had to choose who was really foremost in my life,
Standing next to me my companion and friend,
Not simply but most of all, my wife.
Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 11:06 AM UTC
A lonely soldier in the war field of mind,
Fights with pen not a sword cause his hands are tied.
Fighting for freedom all freedoms,
Even freedom of mind.
The soldier fights for his flag, for his country, for his life.
The dream of a soldier lies beyond the battlefield,
You can see it in their eyes.
Take a moment to stop and pray, for it is they who fight and bleed and die, everyday.
The soldier keeps us safe from things to come, by being on the front line where there might be none.
Those that never were one shall never know the glory of that special comradeship for they were brothers in arms.
Written April 18th 2014
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
THOSE WHO WERE CROWNED, YET THEY NEVER KNEW
Ayad Gharbawi
When so many die
You feel
When so many perish in pain vivid yet distant
You cry
When so many noble and smiling suffocate helplessly
You think
So many, years and years, of memories within your heart
Those who were crowned, yet they never knew
Those who were praised by all virtue’s gods, yet they never heard
I listen to myself, here as I stand
The times that question me so steadfastly
Who do you turn to, then, in such hours wearying
Who will understand your comradeship
The animals know full well Man’s nature and they turn away
Tell me then, whoever you may be – how will stillness icy turn to laughter
Do not weep, bird
Feathered beauty of innocence fair and freedom just
Do not weep for your heart, though many question you
Though the many wish to **** you
Others, may, stand by you
Justice may embrace you, shelter you and free you to the skies above
When I am asked, why this method of existence
I reply, because, somehow, the future shall reap rewards brighter
Somehow, the future shall crown my trials
Somehow, the future shall embrace me with serenity
Somehow, the future shall surround me with six daughters
Thus, alone I stand now;
Tomorrow may yet offer me the essence of humans warm and sincere
The minds that are closed
The poverty-stricken who blame themselves
The poverty-stricken who are endlessly ashamed of themselves
What, then, do you speak unto such souls weary and tired
How, then, do you lift their burdens unfair
How do you tell them that it is they who are just in claiming what is theirs
And what, then, is their ‘theirs’
Yours are the riches
Yours are the fruits of all your labour
Yours are the sweats’ rewards
Yours are whatever fruition your toil has brought unto yourselves
The years of labour you have done, we say, it shall return to you
Yet, as you now look around you
All those years you have laboured
Where are your rewards accumulating
Where are your benefits that should justly comfort you beyond all frustrations
Where your children’s toys
Why is your salary and wages still the same
Earth revolves as it has
Millions before you have lived, thought, loved, hated and died
Millions shall do the same in the unknown vastness of the future
Blue planet swirling the heavens celestial
How silent are the screams of millions as you exist now
Upon the soil of this revolting planet
Ayad Gharbawi
Jan 4, 2010
Jan 4, 2010 at 8:19 AM UTC
„one two three“ go to boulangerie
„four five six“ may be write letter to missis x
„seven eight nine“ my call you deny
„ten eleven twelve“ …i slowly despise rhymes with sheer vengeance..
out of coquetry and out of bravado, i desist our memory, i will turn to enter
in a new day, without prescribed lies and tainted tricks, without whens without whys, without "be blue" commands and daily ****** „luv-syndrome-disease“
& what in particular corrupts the works and days:
without nasty repressive syndrome as consequence of how ugly artistic comradeship can be.
Yah. just depart towards unknown, under guiding of trembling crescent,
to whatever oddness i will might to face..
O it wont be worse i still guess...
something wrong with me?
so strangely i rejoice out of any certain cause.. ?
tis is may be shy anticipation of the delight which the read of some few subterranean poems can sometimes make ?
is there „land in sight“?
is here some flower to breath in?
even if it merely about basking in darkness,
not alone, but with sojourner..
my nonsense, your nods, isnt it slightly utopia?
O b s c u r i t y i s o u r r e w a r d. seem be the single remnants to chant..
vomiting and scolding abundance is what only will remain to realize?
isnt it kind of tryst which satisfy the starving one at best..?
O to large demand!.., but still
towards all of futility my worn heart still embrace
the solemnity of unknown..
wish to inhale the solemnity of unknown..
to enshroud myself with solemnity of unknown..
to chock on solemnity of unknown..
..as long as poetry is yet not dead
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC
Camping on the Edge of Forever
For Michael Dean Marconette
of happy memory
Bold star, beyond a Sterno stove’s brief glow,
We’ll live forever as we live this night:
Coffee and cigarettes and comradeship,
Our backs against the sun-warmed Sierras
As the cold falls from infinite darkness
To keep the snow in place another night,
To smile in ancient silence back at you,
To make a glowing, slumberous twilight until dawn.
Those C-rations were good after a day
Of scrambling among pre-historic rocks
Made musical by the dinosaur creek,
Water as cold as the dark end of time.
San Diego glows in the south-southwest,
Silently, inefficiently, light lost.
But you, dear, happy star, will still shine down
On dreaming youths, tonight and other nights,
Counting for us, for them, each millennium.
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 4:38 PM UTC
how joke about racial slurs? about **** how does one chuckle and say, pointing at a kiln at a summer camp, "hey look, a Jew-oven?" or at a bungalow attached to a lodge, and call it a "rape-shack?" how does it come to be, that hate can be ejected at random, toward unknowing strangers, inside a company vehicle, and for 4 other so-called professional men to let it go unhindered? ..that a comradeship in hate can develop, such that one can call a little girl, age 7, maybe 8 or 9, a "pre-slut,"and actually get chuckles in response, and even a comment--"yeah, hey look, a free child"? how is it that i've come to witness a resurgence of hate speech in 2015?
my new-found "faith in humanity" is yet again becoming encumbered.. my mind whirls, repeating the slurs i heard, now silent, but increasingly visceral... i burn on an imaginal but no less real stake each time i hear the word ****** used as an insult.. the burning is an anger, a promise of action.. a promise of consciousness
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 2:42 AM UTC
come take a walk with me
down the paved paths
where the flowers grow
show me that there is love
where two stick together
comradeship and friendship.
take my hand and lead me
through the unpaved paths
teach me to find a way
even when it isn't clear
and show me that it is right
to put your happiness first.
tell me you won't leave me
to face life on my own
i need you more than before
to teach me to love
I will hold on to you
and every lesson you bring
I love thee,I love you.
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 3:13 PM UTC
I've always maintained that,
"Love is a many splendid Fallacy!"
I could be wrong, but I think
The Concept is used way too liberally;
And also its antithesis - Hate!
Both Love and Hate are Abused Concepts;
Repeatedly applied to trivial or banal
Or simply profound, everyday event/rituals.
I do believe in Love and Hate,
But up to this stage I've really
Only used the word Love to pay Lip Service,
Because Society as a whole expects it of me.
Of course, I've denied and even known
The reciprocal Love of Son and Dad.
(In my Dad's past it was Mum and Son).
However, aside from my own ignorance
And hypocrisy on this score,
I'm looking/searching/seeking/hunting
Heterosexual Love, not HomoEmotional Love -->
That is: Mateship, Comradeship, Friendship, Companionship.
I'm a stubborn ******* for a F**ked Cause -->
Too prove, for Good or Bad, that Love
Is not a flippant Concept and the Challenge
To find the Elusive Creature is oft Deadly.
As for Hate --> I've experienced plenty of that:
I personally don't Hate anyone in particular,
However, I've Hated the compunctions propelling
Me towards justifiable and righteous ANGER and VIOLENCE.
Like my Old Man before Me, I'm a Gentleman at Heart,
But my CONVICTIONS and Actions Coalesce and Infuse my Being,
And I hum and vibrate when I'm put out for Your Appeasement -->
Do Your Own ***** Work. I'll enjoy the Hard Life, Thank You Very Muchly!
**** You! --> I Hate what needs Be done,
But, when calmer, Love the Challenge to Deliver Respect 4 ALL.
Sucko! You Love Me, But I Respect You More.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 6:23 AM UTC
I´m nothing but a common man
never graced a table fit for kings
nor have I worn the finest cloth...
I do not speak with learned tongue;
But when I see the troops parading
and when the band begins to play
my soul steps out to join them...
because that is the soldiers way;
For many years I served my country
and many years I served my queen
for these two things I´d fight and die...
a soldiers heart the reason why;
I may have come from humble stock
but the values I have learned
of comradeship, esprit de corps...
and undying love for my homeland.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
An innocent child taught to share.
Taught to know that the relationship;
the journey to share knowledge, love, ideas
and our difference is key.
An educated adult never forgets the child's lesson.
But fear drives self-protection, materialism and pride.
To share what divides us is to plant the seeds of learning.
Comradeship grows from understanding,
and acknowledgement of those differences.
Build a fence. Build a wall.
Create the divide and create the perfect,
repugnant bigot's nursery.
Destroy the very values one thinks will be protected.
Fail to share as only a child learns and build humanity's failure.
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 1:50 PM UTC
When I become lunatic keep me in chains
But what I request is do not leave me alone
I am ready to take my cross thru disdains
As a plain man I have committed sins I own
If you travel with me like an image of love
All difficulties will vanish like blown wind
I know when I move you travel just above
Take me on and please never ever rescind
That bond of love that chain of communion
To enjoy real comradeship to be really one
At the peril of love let us celebrate reunion
Let us be in love like a burning blazon sun
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
The nature of her art is in her wits,
Sure, sharp, subtle and coy,
It soothes and raises beleaguered spirits,
Who doth her comic arsenal employ,
To batter down the barricades,
Of seriousness and solemnity,
Though raucous her jokes are ever made,
In the spirit of love and amity,
Stoicism petrifies the soul,
Makes it alone,
Converting passionate spirits,
In to sombre heart's of stone.
Reticence is good enough when feelings start to dip,
But humour is much better for stoking comradeship.
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 4:24 PM UTC
this is the time when the seals come to shore to have their pups
the first gritter lorry has spread its salt on our roads
the cold is ever present getting colder by the hour
everything is waiting for Halloween and Christmas
the long dark winter months of battling the weather
cosy days and nights with extra blankets and hot water bottles
the feeling of comradeship with your enemies fighting blizzards
the slowing down when the ferries get cancelled due to big seas
and then the turning of the stars through a million miles of black dark.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC
Reticence is good enough
When fortunes start to dip
But fierce feelings are much better
For stoking comradeship
Stoicism petrifies
The soul, makes it alone
Converting passionate spirits
In to sombre hearts of stone
I aspire to a sensibility
Free and unrestrained
For in stoicism’s shadow
My mind becomes quite pained
I'd rather have a poet's passion
For being touched by love
I hail thee in sweet serenade
That rings around, above
Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 8:45 PM UTC