"defenders" poems
There is a forest old as hillsides
tall, majestic, dappled shades
fall on ground beneath the silent
gnarled defenders of the glade.
There they stand in ancient splendour
many souls have passed their way
often used as welcome shelter
from the heat of summers day.
Sweet the air they breathe in chorus
our life's breath their lungs provide,
soaking up our daily poison
so that we may live and thrive.
You seas of men intent to clear them
citing progress, peddling greed
tearing roots from precious mooring
laying waste to nature's seed.
**** the beauty of a landscape
displace creatures for your need
rupture fragile ecosystems
scar the earth and watch it bleed.
To you I ask a simple question,
as I see the land bereaved.
What need has man of all this progress
when he can no longer breathe?
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
It started with a clever picking
Then the horn of cenarius sounding
Followed by an agile creep-blocking
The start of the beginning
Sk, Lina, Leoric lanes the bottom
A superior lane control no one could ever question
Burrow, Bolt, and array has been thrown
That poor enemy's troll got pawned
And now let's go into the middle lane
Whe're SF and Davion came
In this battle they would have to claim
The elusive exp and gold they can possible gain
The top lane's meepo was quite steady
For his enemies are getting heavy
Fissure and Nova are his enemy
The fearsome combo of deadly harmony
As the ferocious battle goes by
In ganks and clashes, skills fly
Some juke, some escape, and some die
The other team thrashtalks "nice try"
Oh dear meepo tries to solo Roshan
The other heroes try to ********
In the woods they find the one
That lone troll farming in wonderland
Sandking immediately winks
Followed by a nimble blink
Burrowstrike makes the troll sink
GG troll as many would think
The the team tries to push
TP-save the opponent used
But meepo breaks the unwanted truce
And tries to squeeze away the juice
They have to **** raigor
Who, in echo slam, has had a great score
But you seeit was only five versus four
Thus it leads the enemy in sore
Alas! the balance has been broken
It's a gg that's nearly spoken
The defenders has fallen
Rax, towers, and the tree are all broken
If only they've warded more
They would've prevented the gank on troll
The other team had a greater score
And they could have a chance to backdoor
Perhaps it was a close call
For a team you wouldn't easily small
Life indeed is like a ball
Just pawned because of the lone trol
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 8:00 AM UTC
The greatest to ever play the game
Leo Messi, the synonym of Fame.
World stops when he starts to play
Lightning fast, defenders he slay.
When he plays, sun loses its shine
Footballing world ruled by an Argentine.
His passing and finishing is sublime
Surely the greatest of all time.
Because of you, Barca has survived
Watching you play makes us feel alive.
With every game makes his fans proud
While playing he owns the crowd.
Every time he plays its like fictional story.
Trophies that's sums up his career glories
The name engraved on football legacy.
Messi the world's greatest Treasury.
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
It started with a clever picking
Then the horn of cenarius sounding
Followed by an agile creep-blocking
The start of the beginning
Sk, Lina, Leoric lanes the bottom
A superior lane control no one could ever question
Burrow, Bolt, and array has been thrown
That poor enemy's troll got pawned
And now let's go into the middle lane
Whe're SF and Davion came
In this battle they would have to claim
The elusive exp and gold they can possible gain
The top lane's meepo was quite steady
For his enemies are getting heavy
Fissure and Nova are his enemy
The fearsome combo of deadly harmony
As the ferocious battle goes by
In ganks and clashes, skills fly
Some juke, some escape, and some die
The other team thrashtalks "nice try"
Oh dear meepo tries to solo Roshan
The other heroes try to ********
In the woods they find the one
That lone troll farming in wonderland
Sandking immediately winks
Followed by a nimble blink
Burrowstrike makes the troll sink
GG troll as many would think
The the team tries to push
TP-save the opponent used
But meepo breaks the unwanted truce
And tries to squeeze away the juice
They have to **** raigor
Who, in echo slam, has had a great score
But you seeit was only five versus four
Thus it leads the enemy in sore
Alas! the balance has been broken
It's a gg that's nearly spoken
The defenders has fallen
Rax, towers, and the tree are all broken
If only they've warded more
They would've prevented the gank on troll
The other team had a greater score
And they could have a chance to backdoor
Perhaps it was a close call
For a team you wouldn't easily small
Life indeed is like a ball
Just pawned because of the lone troll
Don't worry DotA 2, I'll sacrifice my sleep for playing everyday!
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 9:17 AM UTC
The spotlight is on the broken coastline
porous - like archers spilling arrows
into the vanquished hinterland.
In the ancient West Mercia
wooden bridges collapse
uproar, as the King's regiments
long disbanded , ghosts
into fading memory.
Our defenders, our loyal subjects
enmeshed into the wider fear
our citadels breached,
and where is the valour
the self reliance of our septic isle?
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 3:50 PM UTC
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 11/3/2019
My homeland - dear land,
where for the first time I saw the sun
and where I came to know God;
Where my father, brothers and mother kind
taught me prayers in my maternal tongue.
My homeland - villages and cities,
planted from the times of Piasts among Lechic fields;
Rivers, forests, flowery leas and meadows,
where larks sing their sweet songs of hope.
My homeland - our forefathers' glory,
Chrobry's Notched Sword and Cecora Mace,
Knightly Spirit, noble and brave,
bitter defeats and victories great.
My homeland - quiet green fields
for centuries trampled by hostile armies,
burial mounds and sad graves
that have covered our freedom defenders.
My homeland - heroic spirit of the Polish people,
that by miracle lives amid hunger and cold;
- hope that always blooms in hearts,
with work for the fathers, and song for the young!
Maria Konopnicka (1842-1910)
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 11:32 AM UTC
The gilded disc flies smoothly through the air.
Glinting in the sun, it catches a gust
Of wind, rising through hands and clouds of dust.
On the run, time for a dive, does he dare?
Defender follows, two bodies ensnared
Topple through the air, and with one last ******
His fingertips meet the disc. He rolls just
Over the line, and through the air cheers tear.
The crowd storms the field in jolted frenzy
As the defenders hang their heads in shame.
His teamates lift the brave frisbee hero
Like a king who slaughtered the enemy.
Those that witnessed this great chamionship game
Saw the best display of athletic show.
Dec 24, 2009
Dec 24, 2009 at 7:56 AM UTC
You are the commander in Charge.
And , I'm one of your soldier.
Just out fighting your cause.
I can't stop traveling because I'm doing it all for God.
If, I read you a scripture I don't mean to offend.
Who better than Jesus should be your very best friend?
The truth in the bible speaks volume over many lies.
Stand firm on it.
And give the Word a try.
It been there in the beginning and even now.
I doubt if you find a Christian's to state they ever let them down.
Others might twist the truth to benefit themselves.
All they really admitting is that they in need of help.
So, who better than Jesus should be your very best friend?
He been there in the beginning and as we see he still here in the end.
Glory be to God.
For sending us an advocate.
Who is our defenders when some work to cut us down.
Peter might have denied him all because of fear.
But, I'm his supreme soldier's I'll forever be defending him.
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 2:38 PM UTC
Yesterday was a rotten one
For Donald Trump. What a shame!
In desperation Trump has jumped
Out of the frying pan into the flame.
His friend and former campaign manager,
Paul Manafort, was convicted
On eight felony counts, although
More convictions had been predicted.
Then his lawyer, Michael Cohen,
Pleaded guilty on eight counts
And implicated the president
In a felony, as the tension mounts.
Trump is an unindicted co-
Conspirator in a federal crime,
According to Cohen--something that many
Have suspected all the time.
Also, an early supporter in Congress,
Hunter Duncan, was indicted
For the misuse of campaign funds.
Do all who touch Trump become blighted?
Meanwhile, Omarosa says
She has many more tapes to play.
It almost seems as though the president's
Teflon coating is wearing away.
As Trump's Republican defenders
In Congress flat out refuse to condemn
Trump's actions, people wonder,
"What does Putin have on THEM?"
"I always hire the best people,"
Donald Trump would frequently boast.
Stay away from Donald Trump
Or you, too, are going to be toast.
-by Bob B (8-22-18)
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 9:20 AM UTC
Remember to think better,
think further,
think deeper
and with vigour.
Pepper your remember
with colour,
with light,
with friends who delight.
Boost your remember
with story,
with histories,
with cramped group selfies.
And remember your remembers
whenever,
wherever
you drift off centre.
And there you'll discover
your defenders,
your never surrenders
against all contenders.
Then you'll remember
your forevers.
Remember -
it's your best self defense.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 10:25 AM UTC
How brave are our fire brigades?
As they battle bushfires each day,
Yes, it's summer in Victoria,
Not exactly the Waldorf Astoria,
For all the fire brigades,
Our respect they've totally gained,
Laying their lives on the line,
When the weather's too hot and fine,
Burn, Victoria, burn,
El Nino's torrid urn,
Our noble defenders each day,
Real heroes in the news, I say,
As they battle bushfires today,
How brave are the fire brigades?
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
(it's cliché to admonish clichés in their entirety)
I. (love)
We are meant to live the clichés;
we are meant to resuscitate the words,
and rehabilitate their wounds
into a fertile viewpoint
where we build respirators from clichés
to filter the virulent dust kicked up
by the marching pigs.
(re-invented clichés offer back breath
in an exchange of circular breathing)
The swine contort love
into armaments of antipathy;
they push buttons,
squeeze triggers,
pull pins,
and aim where it causes the most damage.
Even though we are natural born hypocrites,
we don't have to let that knowledge corner us
into using love as a weapon.
The pen is mightier than the sword,
and I wield both;
I sharpen the quill on the blade's edge.
If need be, use the pen for a counter-strike,
but only channel love in defence.
II. (poetry)
The pigs march to a beat
of nuclear blasts
that bring poetry's flag
nearer to half-mast.
Poetry should stand on its own merit,
instead of leaning on shanks that hide behind smiles
constructed with aspirations of popularity
that churn out lazy, aspartame-laced lines
devoid of accountability and integrity,
or lean upon smiles filled with slivers
from far too much fence-sitting,
too worried about the trending majority,
to see the complexity within simplicity
and clarity,
or
propped-up against degrees
while writing poems that are drier than the Sahara:
husks of lines tumbling across dunes,
only to be imploded
by atomic-pork mushroom clouds,
their fallout marring parchment
into a poisonous terrain.
.
III. (dreams)
(revive, twist, and switch the clichés )
We must not fear saying "never".
Surrender to love, but never surrender
to the jealous captains who attempt
to hook and net the defenders of Neverland.
With compasses of conscience
beating in hearts kept young,
navigate through the smoke and mirror-smog
emitted by the marching pigs.
(we must never give up on our dreams)
Dream about the courage needed
to love everyone and everything,
including our enemies
who conduct genocide
on the language of a purer intent.
Dream about word-seedlings
pushing through the arid rind
of dying poetry,
in hope for a more organic fruition
to grow in our hearts and minds,
so that poetry gains back its strength and vitality
to once again stand on its own merit.
+/-
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
got so drunk at their little, ahem, initiation ceremony: drank a bottle of whiskey when i heard we were going clubbing wearing lycra shorts... the man with the biggest bulge and the biggest stick... never understood male group psychology... or any group psychology for that matter... it isn't exactly a throng of noblemen following Henry VIII.
i joined the lacrosse university team
for a bit,
left it when the time came to buy the
equipment - i didn't think getting
smacked by the defenders' longer sticks
was worth it, to be a striker with the shortest
stick - too physical - i thought i'd seek
some other physicality,
got stuck-up on rock climbing, and mountaineering
for a while, nothing serious,
a bit of easy bouldering on the edinbrugh crag,
the one lining the skyline at holyrood park,
the salisbury crag, just west of arthur's seat -
i'm not going to lie about clinging off the
matterhorn or something -
but i did an expedition with the mountaineering
club near Ben Nevis once...
Glen Coe / Coire nan Lochan...
and i figured, with all this talk of light pollution,
well, "pollution", to think that a bunch of
street lamps can blind away the stars of what
former poets spoke of: about the illumination
of the heavens for the blind eye to see...
we camped outside one bothy (basic shelter)
set off fireworks, drank whiskey, played music,
burnt a fire in the bothy...
but to be honest... i was not amused by this whole
theory of light pollution...
i looked up at the sky, and the number of stars
was no greater than the number seen in a bright
lit city... i know they say all those telescopes
amplify the chance of peering into the heavens
at night and see more stars...
but why cite light pollution, when, in a remote
highland hideout the number of stars didn't
increase in number... i've heard a girl from
australia cite that, in the outback she said
more stars could be seen... even without a telescope...
so the scottish highlands are unlike the australian
outback? is it just me... or is it simply ********
this whole light pollution argument?
it was dark out there like in an **** after black coffee
and charcoal tablets.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
Living in a world with no honest leader.
Every single day comes a new victor,
using the people's heart to paint the picture of fear.
When will we escape the rampant greed running amuck?
Become our own leaders and stop giving a ****
When asked questions like these, the defenders only have a mouthful.
The reins of power should be in the hands of the masses,
known as the powerful.
They shake at night with terrors of their past.
They finally understand they have worn a fake mask.
When will we stop eating from a government feeder?
Finally equalize and balance the power teeter.
We must, living in a world with no honest leader.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 6:52 PM UTC
Standing Rock
The pipeline is the bloodline,
of an Empirical Two Headed Dragon,
The Divided States of America used to be united,
can someone please tell me what the heck happened,
Standing Rock just might be the last stand for anyone that’s still standin’,
Standing Rock,
is not a photo op,
it’s not a festival,
it’s Indians and Cops,
more correctly,
it’s Native Americans and Corporate Hitmen,
it’s the crossroads,
where environmental defense intersects with big business interests,
it’s getting intense,
water cannons and flash grenades,
mock democracy and a Trump presidency,
military disguised as cops,
and cops disguised as military,
as the original defenders of this land,
continue to make a stand,
at Standing Rock this is not a photo op,
this is indirect imperial tactics meets Direct Action,
highly ironic,
that I write this on Thanksgiving,
the day before Black Friday,
tell me what you do that’s worth livin’,
Quite fitting,
that I’m writing this on Thanksgiving,
a “holiday” in a way,
but really just a heist by villains disguised as pilgrims,
well then,
where does that leave us now,
several hundred years later,
at Standing Rock having a powwow,
how,
have we gotten here,
and how,
as so little changed we’re,
still in this sticky situation,
battling hearts that are as black as oil,
still ******* the blood out of Mother Earth,
still battling Two Headed Serpent Dragon as it coils,
the pipeline is the bloodline,
of an Empirical Two Headed Dragon,
The Divided States of America used to be united,
can someone please tell me what the heck happened,
Standing Rock just might be the last stand for anyone that’s still standin’.
Defendin’,
the Sacred,
with Love,
over Hatred.
Water Is Life.
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
www.amazon.com/Aaron-La-Lux/e/B00ODPJAOK
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
It been 20 year in the making
there well still anit breaking
they have face many foe
never lost a bro
it may start slow but
by the end you well be beging for mo
We have had
01:Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Season 1) 02:Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Season 2)
03:Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Season 3) 03.5: Mighty Morphin Alien Rangers
04:Power Rangers Zeo 05:Power Rangers Turbo 06:Power Rangers in Space
07:Power Rangers Lost Galaxy 08:Power Rangers Lightspeed Rescue
09:Power Rangers Time Force 10:Power Rangers Wild Force 11:Power Rangers Ninja Storm
12:Power Rangers Dino Thunder 13:Power Rangers S.P.D. 14:Power Rangers Mystic Force
EX:Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Re-version) 18:Power Rangers Samurai
19:Power Rangers Super Samurai 20:Power Rangers Megaforce
All of the ranger have protected the earth
now its up tp #21 Power Rangers Super Megaforce
to save the day
being the power of all 20
that come before them
to fight the great evil earth has
seen to this day
it all up to them to bring
peace some way
If they can win the we well bring in
#22 to hype you up
here come
Power Rangers Dino Charge
in to to save the day
This is the mega ranger flow
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
I heard a call from heaven, I saw a fever dream
Of a land my kin would live in and joy would reign supreme.
But the land of the pure has blood in her waters
Of the children she bore, both the sons and the daughters.
There is poison in her air, her streets awash with shame.
How long shall her people suffer these perils in her name ?
Where justice is all but rare for the ones of wealth and fame
and her defenders sold her bare for fortunes and petty gain.
Her clerics were no different, they were but the same.
Men of God with Godless morals, who put us infidels to shame.
So we wait for spring's embrace, in this garden of yours and mine.
But winter is a mighty foe and it hangs on to every vine.
Jun 29, 2022
Jun 29, 2022 at 2:54 PM UTC
Guardians
Defenders
Angels
Shields
Some want to protect
Who they love
They aspire to greatness
Solely for another.
Remember that after a war
Shields are forgotten
And guardians
Are considered monsters.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 5:32 PM UTC
PTSD 22
Piercing through that troubled gaze
The fields of war fill the vacant stare
Search for peace through the combat haze
Desperate for darkness back “over there”
Pondering fear of a lifetime ago
The desert’s pain fills the empty boots
Still at war, for peace they go
Down in hallowed ground, 21 gun salutes
Pour one more strong for the 22 a day
The men of war can take some more
Saint Peter’s gates open to light the way
Defenders of peace only brave this door
Place your battle outside on the floor
To the warriors’ home in vallhalla’s hall
Soldiers only, long after their war
Day after day, salute 22 More
Chester Michaels
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 2:48 AM UTC
All our hopes and fears
Rest on their shoulders
But they bear the weight
With a smirk and wave
The champions
Stalwart defenders
And grandiose fighters
They never falter
At least not
When there's an audience.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
Today we have the labeling of people groups.
Yesterday we had the suggestion of an inherent disposition to dishonesty and violence in some groups.
Tomorrow we will have the careful counting of individuals and the placing of individuals into each people group.
But today,
today we have the labeling of people groups.
For those of you who are new here, we recommend this period drama underlining racial differences with a subtle suggestion of inferior intellect in some groups indigenous to warmer climes.
And here we have a persuasive and tabloid friendly research paper that hints that children of mixed race tend to struggle in school. You'll be relieved to see that it hasn't any distracting data.
And on the shelf beneath you'll see there's a picture book version for younger children.
Over here is the arbitary divide between us and them, with a useful circle of arguments to differentiate ourselves from others.
Here we have colour coded lables to more easily distinguish between people groups. Yes, that's correct, we have three labels: white, black and, a recent addition which is now available for added distinction, rainbow.
Oh yes, when engaging in any discussions, for your own safety please ensure you wear these ear defenders.
To ensure a free flow of visitors we have erected large signs in three languages marking where charity at home ends. Yes, after rigorous focus group testing we have selected the English language in three font sizes.
We are coming to the end of this orientation tour. Please note the subtle but effective shedding of compassion for those who appear or sound different to us. This underpins the necessary disregard for the rights of others that we assume for ourselves and for those like us. It is almost imperceptible I think you'll agree.
But the priority for today, as I say, is the labeling of people groups.
No questions.
Shall we begin?
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 2:16 PM UTC
The little boy who wasn’t there
Has playground dust all in his hair
Some other kids are gathered around
When he tries to rise, they knock him down.
The little boy who wasn’t there
Has no defenders anywhere
He doesn’t cry out, doesn’t speak
He knows the others think him weak.
The little boy who wasn’t there
Acted sad but nobody cared.
School blamed both boys in a fight
Did not find out who was right.
The little boy walks home alone
But nowhere is a safety zone.
They catch him just a block away
They call him *** they call him gay.
The little boy can’t tell his Ma.
She’ll beat him and then tell his Pa.
They’ll both look at him like a freak.
Two more times he mustn’t speak.
The little boy goes to his room
And listens to the voice of doom.
Depression has become his friend.
He only wants this all to end.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
Some folks would tell you that a Demon
lived in all of us
A ****** is a thief
Some public defenders isn’t smarter than his or her clients
One is not required to serve as a juror: on every case
With that in mind:
To create a mental trend is easier.
A train to the plane
isn't insane
however, it’s would be really shocking to
find a hockey player who is tame:
A Police officer with all his fear and anger
A cook without a kitchen:
Is like tango without jingo
A philosophy without any gaps
The new breakfast drink debut
Ice coffee in the morning
Mocha latte' all day
Please don’t interfere with what work
for us throughout the day
I am a woman that follows the warmth
unlike a
tree that wouldn’t blossom
Was it worthless creation?
You can eat tree bark
While the lark
Build its lowly nest
On the ground
A philosophy without any gaps
a client who relapse
We all have a way of asking each other
How are you feeling?
Sometimes, we just have to pretend and
Say
I am feeling fine today,
just for pete sake:
or the long chit- chat conversation
Society
Has force us into a predisposed panic situation
I usually take myself
away from the jaws of distress
And allowed my body to de-tress
So that I can allowed the poetess within
To take hold of the wheel
while I whisper a soft pray
“restore to thee my own,
Once again, I demand the throne”
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC
I stopped commenting on airy internet objects long ago
lest it be a needed praise of some starving artists’ work
or in response to a worded response of my own work
It’s just such a waste of time to tell a million view band
they “rock” or they ****
All I will incite is defenders or refuters of my claim
who are just as petty as me
As an immature high schooler, that’s just what I wanted
The modern version of my dead grandfathers
with their white shirts, blue jeans, and duck *** hair
Driving from the city to hick school dances
just to pick fights
I once typed lines of **** talk on Elvis videos from the 1970s
just to see what would happen
- Nothing much
My grandfathers are dead and no one’s left to defend The King
I’m not so tough, but I felt scrappy then just the same
Now, with my lowly little job
my first world laptop and my glasses
Sipping coffee and mellowed out
I read some comments to see what people feel
about an article on my generation
How we’re more corporate than ever
bamboozled by a guise of fake uniqueness
Sure, I agree with the critique in the article
if you can even call it an article
People get paid for three lines of an opinion,
sometimes a link, and then the real entertainment's in the comments
Where can I get in line for this ******* job?
Not the commentors, their labor’s free
I mean the three lines guy, it sounds too easy
“Don’t ya get it yet, son”
My grandad chuckles
“His job’s just corralling all those comments,
inciting easy debate,
and getting advertising clicks”
He shook his head
went up through the roof
and his twenty-year-old jeans
ended in a wispy swirl
But I couldn't help noticing
they were name brand
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC