"famers" poems
This poem is dedicated to the fallen of the First World War, and also, to all those we have lost in the years since.
- Somme Harvest -
In the early morning
Dawn of the fiery horizon,
The sea of green caresses the land
And gave it gentle kisses
Of tender sadness.
On this day many an unlived life would find
Life in Death, but first must come Death in Life,
Indeed, a bouquet of barbs grace the
Dark, dank, *****
Halls of Morningstar,
Servants go to and fro preparing the sordid feast
Of unsung heroes.
Babes in arms are they, who shall
Ever sleep till the break of the final day.
Fields of Flanders infertile,
But for the harvest to ripen
The fertilizer of life is
Scattered, battered, tattered,
Sown,
Human manure, nutrient of vitality,
It seeps into earthly soil.
In the year of our Lord,
One thousand, nine hundred and sixteen
Did the farmers collect their greatest bounty,
Not all farmers reaped massive yields,
Farmers Kultur, Sickle and Hammer
Fed their maniacal hunger with rotting corpses,
While famers Lion, Bulldog and Bald Eagle
Wept their hunger with mechanical eyes,
Farmer Scythe, steward of Morningstar,
Laughed dry, dead tears of hungry joy
And sang the golden harvest song
As his blade swam through the harvest thirstily,
For indeed, the harvest was an endless
Smoky sea of blood green
And thousands were sailing.
Twilight gleaming through the sky,
The raging war god vomit’s dry thunderous wrath
And wreaks barbaric, savage, ferocious, ****** carnage below,
As sleeping
Babes in arms fly through the red twilight.
Vultures dressed in human feathers
Gather and crowd around their congealing cold feast,
With hatred sewn on their
Lifeless, lidless
Blind eyes,
They shriek their throaty, ******
Thankless prayers to idle gods.
A multitude of thousands upon thousands
Of souls sour to the heights of Mount Olympus,
Unshed tears,
My child, I saw you in that dusky evening half-light,
Flying, soaring and rising higher with your
Brothers-in-arms.
As I looked up at the darkening sky
My heart wept warm tears of ebbing love,
While my eyes forever dimmed the light,
And my baby,
My body became the Earth,
The phoenix has nested.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 6:04 AM UTC
Fueled by doubt
Failure by oneself
Two rings
Hall of famers
We don't need trainers
We win from within
One strike,two strikes,and he's out!
That's what SF is all about!
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
On that crisp September night
I heard the music play.
I will not hear those notes again
for Sandman’s gone away.
With one out still left in the ninth
Two men approached the mound.
Jeter said “It’s time to go.”
The ballpark roared with sound.
Was there a dry eye in the house
when even Hall of Famers weep?
That night, Mo’s opponents cheered,
for the man who spelled relief..
For when a game was on the line-
Foes threatening to score;
One man, one pitch was all it took
as Rivera barred the door.
On that crisp September night
I heard the music play.
They will not play his song again
for Sandman’s gone away.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 9:59 AM UTC
Got that Celebrity Life,
got that “He’s Too Real” type of vibe,
got that you want to have him forever,
but you can’t because it’s “Hi” and “Bye”,
that he moves too quickly like a Gypsy,
that life’s too good somebody pinch me,
that you see him but don’t really know him,
like I’ve heard the name seen the face but who is he,
really,
no time for the drainers,
I’ll ball until on the wall of the Hall of Famers,
if Life’s a Game then I’m all in,
Life to me is what a game is to a Gamer,
dedicated,
tunnel vision,
writing books about all of this,
split decisions,
split screens and wet dreams,
getting rings I get things,
a champion at being a champion,
into inventing things that are inspiring,
even my sadness makes me happy,
can’t bring me down,
and I can’t fully pronounce this city,
but when I’m with my local friends this is my town,
this is our town,
we are local heroes,
make a lot give a lot,
so what yeah I’m a ******
but so is everybody else that’s anybody,
the freaks come out at night and I’m a night owl,
if you know the Mysteries of Life,
then you already know me well,
developed such a relationship,
that strangers act like they know me,
but I guess that’s what happens,
when you’re an underground celebrity,
a celebrity to celebrities,
anybody that’s somebody should know me,
connected to a higher power,
not Austin Powers all real more like Jay Z,
got that Celebrity Life,
got that “He’s Too Real” type of vibe,
got that you want to have him forever,
but you can’t because it’s “Hi” and “Bye”…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
From Bauhaus to Beiderbecke
records
on the record deck,
art hangs off the walls.
I stood with Baron Munchausen
in the secret garden and
watched pixies while at play.
It was my wish to meet
Miss Gish
alas it was not to be so
Hollywoodland
was far to grand
for a famers boy and his ***
Different strokes like sturdy spokes
keep the wheels going round
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 11:44 AM UTC
::::::Just a Poem::::::
The world will end
The Earth will bend
Waters will get thirsty
Ants will grow hefty
The sun will melt
No pain will be felt
The clouds will usurp the sky
Fishes will walk and fly
Trees will run and walk
Flowers will sing and talk
Animals will become wise
As with great heat the Moon will arise
Rivers will flow out from earth
Water will be the measuring unit of wealth
Stories will not be told
Not when old senile grasses will bear forth gold
And mountains will be heaved by valiant men
As they bore forth silvers and diamonds vomiting children
Famers will plant Crimson stones and harvest rubies
Ripping their husbands apart, and searching for crystals, would be feminine hobbies
Lions will be used for transportation, since their claws will turn wheels
Crocodiles will evacuate their aquatic tenements and head for the hills
After losing their flight, birds will trek to volcanic regions for recreation
As venoms of snakes will be used for mummification
Just when planetary bodies muss up after drinking muscatel
And Comets will go wiggling the Universe searching for Meteors to tell
Asteroids will be **** women
Visiting Earth on intervals to eat the luscious renascent three-legged men
Children will converged forging a bulwark with each fiery horn
Ones fixed by a one-tooth worm just about the time they were born
This is a gory war; it will commence when a star will fall
Exactly when vim-less monkeys will bellow a rehearsed rodomontade in the butchery hall
As venerated corpses of Rats receive posthumous worship
Those villains were holy miscreants, who sent many to death-sleep
Their posterities are honored; infamous miscreated Rats, with flagrant mien
But as foretold by the corpulent Prophets, shortened will be the tyrannous Gopheric reign
For they will be swallowed by gigantic-goliath gourmand Hippopotamuses
Their description are ineffable to words, they are of enormous sizes
And aeons from now those gourmets will swallow the earth! And oh! Unreal it will all seem
Because you think this screed is just a Poem!
Composed by SirKelvin
Poem 99, ©SirKel 2016
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 5:56 PM UTC