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Cara D Apr 2013
When may I?

Not now under the
lampscope in my
G.I. gear—little doughboy
to hashtagged Iraqi vet.

Not now with my
hand tentatively against
your sickly body.

                               "Two weeks.
We're sorry."

Not now as the pallbearer,
my clutch like vacuum-sealed
lips parted for
you.

Held back by what is left of your
afterlife pride.

Not now as I watch a hurricane
gradually run aground,
wondering if the waves will crash and
if the sea will come inland,
flood your grave
in wet kisses.

If only it could stop howling for five seconds,
just to hear me.
Big Virge Jun 2015
These days it seems ... ?
weapons are ... seen ...
NOT JUST ... on screens ...
but now ... in streets ...
  
Murders Here ... !!!
Murders There ... !!!
  
These days it's ... CLEAR ...
They ... "FILL" ... Nightmares ... !!!!!
  
" Nightmarish " ... dreams ...
for those ... " Now Left " ...
with ... memories ...
of friends ... Now Dead ... !!!
  
or ... A Relative ...
for which ...  
There's ... NO FIX ...  
  
while the media sings ...
the ... " Same ol' thing " ...
  
"We need more police
with weaponry,
to stem the tide
of violent crime !"
  
while ...
  
Governments ... " Feed " ...
DIFFERENT ... stories ... !!!!!
  
"Violent crime is down,
across our towns !"
  
Maybe where they are !!?!!
  
with their .....  
" Six Car Garage "
and ... " Entourage " ...
of ... Security Guards ... !!!!!
  
No ...  
" Hoodies " ... round them ...
or .... " Terrorist Threats " ....
  
Yet our youth are ... " Investing " ...
in ... " Possessing " ... more weapons ... !?!
  
A ... " New Age Trend " ...
that ... NEEDS TO ... " Lessen " ... !!!!!
  
as time ..... transcends ..........
there are many who ... " Threaten " ... !!!!!!
to .... Use A Weapon ....
  
from ... Violent Youth ...
to these ... Terrorist Crews ...
  
but ......  
Is that true ... !?!
Who's Foolin' ... Who ... ???
  
The U.S's ... " New Weapon " ...
ISN'T .... seen as a threat .... ???
  
Well ...  
Not just ... " Yet " ...............................
  
Could it be that ... Obama ... ???
is worse than ... " Osama " ... ?!?
  
Questions like ... THAT ...
may get me ... attacked ...
  
By BOTH .... white and black ...
but ... THINK ... before you ... FIRE ... !!!
  
A president is ... " Hired " ...
and RARELY ... ever ... " Fired " ...  
and .... most of them ....
are just ... " Figureheads " ...
who tend to be ... " BIG LIARS " ... !!!
  
"But Barack's Black !"
  
is what's being ... said ...
by his ... " Supporters " ... YES ... !!!
  
BOTH ... White and Black ...
  
But .....
Which way will they sway ... ?
if things ... Don't Change ... ?
  
I bet blacks starts saying ...
  
"Well he is mixed race..."
  
while the ... " Liberal Whites " ...
will probably be playing ...
the ... CLASSIC ... old lines ...
  
"He's messed things up !
He ain't one of us !"
  
Of course ...  
Blacks will cuss ... !!!
and ... " Run Their Gums " ... !!!!!
  
"Why you saying this stuff ?!?"
  
because ....
In .... " My View " .... !!!
it's the ... ******* Truth ... !!!!
  
because .....
this brother's got colour ....
that makes him ... " Cool " ... ?!?
  
That's a weapon they've ... " Used " ...
to keep you ... FOOLED ... !!! ...
  
So Don't ... get it confused ... !!!
  
Don't it seem a bit strange ... ?
that after .... " Uncle George " ....
Who ... CLEARLY ...  Waged War ...
on ... " immigrant Hoards " ...
  
that a man called ... " Osama " ... !!!!!!
  
"Excuse me .... OBAMA's .... !!!"
  
Gonna .... " SAVE THE DAY !!! "  
  
Clearly NOT ... !!!
  
for the folks down with ........ B.O. ........... !?!?!
  
Wait a minute man ... Whoaaaaaaa ... !!!!!!!!
  
I can smell something ... " Funny " ...
and I know it ain't me ....... !!!!!!! .......
  
  
B.O. .... SHOULDN'T BE ....
in the ... " White House Seat " ... !!!!!
  
but I guess that was left ...
by good ol' ... Georgie B' ... !!!!!
who's been in the news ...
for avoiding ... " SHOES " ... ?!?
  
Now .....
What kind of ... " Weapon " ...  
are they to ... " use " ... ?!?!?
  
I know ... Iraqi Dudes ...
gotta have ... More Venom ... !!!
  
It's ... Always the way ...
  
How you bringing a knife ... ?
to a F'ing ... " GUNFIGHT " ... !?!
  
"Son, you shouldn't play games
when it comes to your life !"
  
That's why ... " My Weapon " ...
is used to ... " STRENGTHEN " ...
  
NOT ...  
Leave me ... "weak" ... !!!
like those who ... " Bleed " ...  
  
My Weapon's ... MY MIND ... !!!
and ... well though out rhymes ...
that require ... NO SWORDS ...
or .... " Physical Wars " .... !!!!!!!!!
  
Of course I recognise ....
that words .... Can''t Stop ....
Weaponry that's ... STRONG ... !!!!!
  
But i'd rather die .... !!!
than start ... taking lives ...
because I ... " Couldn't 'Find " ...
A ... " Better Way " ... to end ...
..... Petty ..... arguments .....
than ... using a weapon ...
to prove ... my strength ...
  
when ... all it's gonna do ...
is lead to .... " Death " ....  
  
So .....
Do the government lie ... ???
about ... Gun and Knife crime ... ???
  
I'll let you ... decide ...
but remember ... These Lines ... !!!
  
Things on ... " Prime Time " ...
are what .... " THEY CHOOSE " ....
  
and Aren't ... always true ... !!!!!
  
Think about your life ...
and where you reside ...
  
Does your neighbourhood ... ?
get the coverage it should ... ?
  
Does the news ... " Neglect " ... ?  
the things you wanna see ...
on .................Your T.V. ....... ???
  
You see .....
  
My Weapons are ... WORDS ... !!!
and .... poetic verse ....
  
Now I ... RARELY Curse ... !!!
but agree with ... Em' ....
  
When you face problems ...
Sometimes ... You ... NEED TO ... !!!!!
  
I'd prefer that move ...
than a move to ... " SHOOT " ... !!!!!!
  
I can't end this piece ...
without ... One More Theme ...  
  
The biggest weapon in use ...
is ... CLEARLY ... " YOU " ... !!!!!
  
The things ... " You Choose " ...
and things .... " You Do " ....
and things you ... FEAR ...
  
This move is ... CLEAR ... !!!
  
The media ... FUELS ...
A ... "Limited View" ...
  
OPEN ... Your Mind ... !!!
and .... RECOGNISE ....  
that what you're fed ....
is .... " Agenda " .... led ....
  
You really can't believe ....
everything that you read
or the things that you see
on your ... TV Screens ... !!!!!
  
There are ... Many Fallacies ...
and .... False Prophecies ....
  
aimed towards ... " Your Ears " ...
to ... " Fuel Your Fears " ... !!!!! ...
  
My Weapon ... Fa' Sure ...
" Supports " ... This Cause ...
  
Conscious Thoughts ... !!!
before acts of war ...
  
That Make ... Blood Pour ... !!!
  
So ...
My question for you all .....
  
............ is ...........
  
" What Is Yours ? "
Johnny Noiπ Oct 2018
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Code is generated to generate new power, New York, USA,
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cable news video brilliantly captures
the blood washing Parisian gutters
glittering in City of Lights sparkle

images of carnage coagulate in my mind
clotting my heart with searing resent

in desperate need for release
from the abject scorn
that boils within my veins

I flip the channel to
watch a Predator marathon
but light entertainment
fails to satiate my restive soul

I turn down the volume
and click back to News

My iPod is audio ready
to soothe the savage beast
with some righteous death metal
I blast my earbuds,
Culture of Death's new CD
prepares me for real action
  
ever at the ready
digital recreation
has me *******
my controller
mustering up my
Call of Duty
comrades

I am a recognized
high score battlefield hero
taking out godless apostates
in the global war on terrorism

I'm usually eager to
baptize Iraqi jihadis in a
Holy Ghosting
bloodbath
but tonight
Black Ops kills
fails to thrill
my controller and I
stand down

opening the gun case
I cradle my Bushmaster
the smooth barrel and rugged stock
feels so right in my hand

it pleasures me to know
I am one of the good guys with a gun
I relish the fear and respect
I garner during open carry
troops to McDonalds
the hairs on the back of my neck
sometimes titillatingly rise

one day I hope to
take out an active shooter
at a movie or the supermarket
that would be way cool

I place my Bushmaster
back into the cabinet
and carefully rearrange
one of my Glocks

yet even with this
considerable armory
I still feel insecure
it may be time
for a trip to Walmart
to secure another Glock
*** more ammo

my heart recovers a bit when
I think about tomorrows recon trip
to my tree stand in the Jersey Highlands

Bear season starts soon
for the past few weeks
I've baited the area with
Dunkin Donuts and bacon grease
I've detected lots of bear ****
can't wait to drop one of those suckers
I visualize one in my gun sights
should be easy pickens

my CD ends with
some real raucous ****
removing my earbuds
I turn up the volume
on the News

footage from last summer's
Black Lives Matter demonstration
runs in continuous loop
members of the
New Black Panther Party
are yelling into the camera
a woman in a black burka
her eyes squinting angrily at me
from underneath her cover
sends shivers up my spine

when we take our country back
they will be served some
Second Amendment justice

News flashes Ted Cruz
condemning Muslim
refugee resettlement,
in a Christian Nation
only Christians should be
allowed in...

News breaks back to footage
from the concert venue
highlighting the
blood stained mosh pit

News flashes ISIS Jihadis
riding in Humvee's
routing the fleeing
Iraqi army once again

News highlights a smiling Putin
firing off Caspian Sea cruise missiles
into the bleeding Levant
examples of decisive leadership,
if only Obama could grow a pair

News flashes to a Rose Garden Obama
bragging about killing Jihad Johnny

the drone strikes and
active bombing campaigns in:
Syria
Iraq
Libya
Somalia
Nigeria
Mali
Yemen
Sinai
Afghanistan
Kenya
Congo
and other unspecified locations
are working says the Muslim Prez

By the looks of Paris
any real American Patriot
would think not

we need to send a message
a quick strike fix
some major shock and awe
to placate a nations troubled soul

if that offends any Christian
turn the other cheek
wimp, so be it

I say go
Old Timey Testament on their ***
let our vengeance is mine God
**** them all
**** them all
**** them all

Culture of Death:
Cystic Dysentery

Barry McGuire:
Eve of Destruction

The Doors:
The End


jbm
11/17/15
Newark
lots of hate going round since the murderous tragedy in Paris....
let cooler heads prevail.....
be still and know that I am God....
A torture to an Iraqi schoolboy
Unsure of his way to his dwelling,
Fatigued, out of breath, shattered,
The desert wind blowing so unkind
Down the narrow roads as a voice
For help a mournful call
Reminding us how lonely he is,
Father missing, Mother *****
And the Iraqi girl friend dead,
Troupes watch in silence from roof
Date palms line up the shore in grief
Leaning towards the dead sky,
Silently with prayers
While the dawn wind blows.
While the dusk light fades.
     while the dark night falls.

-Williamsji Maveli (Williams George)

www.williamsgeorge.com
In Baghdad where rivers flow
And the Iraqi people glow with
Glorious history shown
Historic sites well known
They capture my heart
A city where history does bide
Baghdad is the place to be.
Iraq 🇮🇶
Baghdad
Dorothy A Nov 2009
Soldier Boy in Iraq,
sleeping with your gun
nestled by your side,
pimples on your face,
a foreign place
to rest your head,
and your bed
is as harsh and unforgiving
as the desert sands.

You fear maybe the next bullet
may be for you,
nothing new
in your mind.
You've seen your kind
fall before.

Iraqi faces,
some grateful,
some hateful,
give you odd and curious glances.
Women and girls in veils,
tales of woe,
tales of fear.
Men and boys draw near,
captivated by the Yanks
who dare to be here.

Soldier boy in Iraq,
say your prayers.
Draw close to God,
and He will draw near
to you.
Your mom is looking forward
to your letter
and you think it's better
to waste no time
and write it now.
RW Dennen Jan 2015
Death and destruction
Hidden suicide bombers
"Iraqi Freedom"
Traveler May 2013
THAT FIRST GULF WAR ON T.V.
In blissful ignorance I cheered
Along with the rest of the American idiots
Bomb those **** Iraqi's
Oh you can't mess with the USA....
Then it happens, the media focused in on a truckload of orphaned Iraqi children
They were just innocent little kids
You could see the trauma reflected in their shell-shocked eyes
I cried with self-loathing, empathy, Stop, what are we doing...
I just wanted to hug those children and make them all better
This was the turning point in my world view.
WARNER BAXTER May 2015
David slings a rock
Cop holsters a glock,  Lizzie Borden packs an axe
Mac he packs the knife, Billy battles with a club, Tommy’s gun is a sub
Kelly’s got 1 too, Bazooka Joe Is Gum, Peter Gun not, Colt 45 is not malt
Nor a horse, hand grenades, canons w/big *****, Doc Holiday had TB
Rock Hudson ***, James Dean crash his car,Hank Williams in his bar
Natalie Wood don’t float, Cain killed brother, Juliette poison her lover,
Whitey Bulger, he  killed and got paid,  deadman walking  gets to eat
Rodney King he got beat, got beat Mama Cass Elliott choked on ham
58,000 gone in Nam, 4 dead in Ohio, Kamikazes fall 1941, again 2001
Iraqi leader w/ a rope, John Belushi too much dope, C. Manson is alive
Michael Jackson isn’t,  Saturday night special is very ordinary
Fast and furious is the crime, **** Clark just his time
Pirate victims walk the plank, THINK,
Next I’ll come rolling up in a tank
Hear the whistle of my missile
***** Harry had the biggest
The  Derringer  is  small
Smokey Bear forest fire
Greek funeral is a pyre
Too many  +’s or  -’s
Is electrical surges
Woman and child
sing the dirges
Walking dead
Are  zombies
Fat man and
Little Boy
Are atom
Bombies
as for me
in a blaze
of glory
BOOM
Faleeha Hassan Sep 2019
Oh, Faleeha
How brilliant is your future
I whisper in my ear
And pat my shoulder
Every morning
I open my day with a big lie
I tell myself
Faleeha
leave the news to the promoters of rumors
And the houses being bombed by skilled pilots
They will be rebuilt immediately afterward
Leave Iraqi women to be sold in the Sbaya Bazaar in Mosul
Mothers will give birth to other daughters nine months later
Don’t worry about the man who sells his life for a handful of coins under the sweltering sun
One day he will be able to get a Chinese umbrella  
Don’t worry about your niece whose face now being eaten by skin cancer
She will get through Photoshop a wonderful picture for her profile on Facebook  
Why do you look so long at picture of your friend who is missing from Kuwait war?
He is lucky
He survived the darkness of grave
Oh, Faleeha
Leave the children of Baghdad to wake up to violent explosions
Music is no longer fit for their mornings
Write down the martyrs names on a piece of a paper and place it in your old coat and leave it in the closet
Or send it to the dry cleaners
I’m tired of counting the names of the martyrs and the war never ends
Faleeha
Don’t plan for the future
It is as a close as   a ******’s bullet
Yes,
I open my day with a big
Big
Big lie
But no lie can cover the scary truth
Tom Romero May 2015
as a kid, movies were my life,
dramas, comedies, documentaries,
miniature worlds of love and strife,
i sat down and glued
my eyes to the silver screen
to violence and blood
rich reds splashed on green;
as i late-night consumed
an Iraq war drama flick,
i heard history unwinding,
wrapping its tendrils to pick
apart my thoughts one by one
flashback frames spin
past bloodstained orbs,
Iraqi bullets beat a din
in my ear drum echo chambers;
shouts shatter constructed dreams
of innocence,
sweating nightmares, muffled screams
i remembered stray bullets
ridding the body of a wayward child
red inking my green sleeves
as i cradled him, he smiled
and told me his name.
i jolt back to reality
blood forcing muscles to lift pen
capturing the totality
of my anger in writing,
film forcing finger
to tilt stylus to modern papyrus
worried thoughts linger
finger on trigger,
as I write a review,
criticizing needless dredging
of the past, through
cheap, violent thrills
meant to entertain
jaded eyes unfamiliar
with foreign terrain
my fingers move
pressing down with no direction
i transcribe his name
ink soaking a predetermined selection
of grooves, his name
echoes from the past:
Rahim.
Fegger Nov 2010
Is this the place where garland grows,
Among the olive branches low?
Splattered, cindered, clay abode,
Am I so alien?
Encircled those, in khaki drab;
Paying homage to the bags;
Which hold remains of brave, young lads;
Will I feel again?

Surrounded, chains of un-lit lights,
Which only shine in day, not nights;
Illumination betrays the plights,
Should we become aglow.
A tree of polypropylene,
Adorns the tower, so serene;
A branch of steel hid in-between,
That only gunner knows.

The air of diesel, not of Myrrh,
As pre-fab dwellings start to stir,
Indifferent as they observe,
Fading of the Star.
A failed attempt at lone ‘SandMan’
Adorned with boots, bayonet in hand,
Iraqi winds displace his stand,
Re-formed in Kandahar.

T’was yesterday, on Christmas Eve;
A day ahead of promised leave,
When Paul, Eric, Mark and Steve,
Took leisurely patrol.
In Tikrit, where he was born,
Some sixty years before this ‘Storm’,
They’d set-out on this early morn.
Assessing evening’s toll.

Among the buildings, scattered ruins;
Charred men, like shadows, on the dunes;
From temples soar cremated plumes;
One hour had gone by.
In the distance, beyond the spire,
Come ‘reports’ of skirmish fire,
Incessant screaming of the dire;
Then screams dissolve to cries.

Approach, inside a city square,
Where once a fountain teemed, right there,
Smoldering flesh, low burning hair;
A family splayed together.
Rank and putrid pieces strewn,
Mother’s face, shrapnel-hewn;
Attending Allah far too soon--
All their hands were tethered.

Domestic dogs, now on their own,
Fight for human flesh and bone;
Such holy image sets the tone,
As chorus strikes ‘Jihad’.
Eric stumbles, exploded knee,
Bearing witness to comrades, three,
Souls reclaimed near instantly;
Christmas in Baghdad.

Is this the place where garland grows;
Among the olive branches low?
How I miss New England snow,
This Christmas in Baghdad.
Copyright, Fegger 2010
james nordlund Oct 2018
Since our political system has been laid bare, after RumputiN was installed
in the Blackhouse, it's beautiful complex of lack of complexity, in a word,
conspiracy of conspiracies, has moved me and "...we(e),..." to have as a few
of my favorite things be far more reaching questions, out of necessity. Like,
without acknowledging, and demanding others do the same, that it's been
purposely engineered to be a criminal injustice system instead, how can one
even have a real conversation that would lead to potential for real change
of it taking place in reality, if you don't know who you were, where you've
been, how on God's green Earth can you expect to know who..., where you are
and what's going on, necessary to start thinking about changing anything,
even yourself, as well as directing who you will be and where you will
be going, etc.?  Swine slaughtering lower-middle-class to poor men en masse,
mostly of color, instead of just doing the usual liquidation of their ases
and assets, are just serial murderers masquerading as cops, and what goes
around comes around, no?  If you're not taking bullets you're making them.  
Also, people are fed up with felonious RumputiN and his rootin' tootin'
organized crime family spree from the Blackhouse, which should be prosecuted
using the RICO Statute instead of just being elaborately covered up by Mueller
for he's not using it and he's handing out immunities like soldiers candy to
Iraqi kids, duh.  I would add some salient pointless points, beyond the 'empty
boat' of Zen, and 'useless tree' of the Tao, we can understand the burden
placed on our shoulders by our ancestry not exercising their responsibilities
as they should have, and thereby it's Siamese twin sisters, their freedoms,
Withered like unused muscles as well, as a panultimate challenge, saving
humanity, literally. Also, understanding Jung's "80 % of all actions, thoughts,
feelings we have, that we acknowledge, or don't, perceive or don't, are
compensatory towards our pasts", necessitates an integral understanding of
Satre's existentialism' meaning of angst, as experience integral to life, not
opposed to it, but, rather, central to it, and a nexus of it.  This is more
than an embracing of gestalt's, Perls', moment, now. Moving away from sophist
perspective, we also experience the meaning of life is struggle, which comes
through all our meaningful work, succinctly. Further, what is life beyond that
foci is also, the where, when, who, how, and sometimes why too (but never Y2K)
of life; beyond our masks and ego fulfilling stories, schtick, lines, etc..
Do we struggle, not just as lifelong students, with the impossible, not just
the improbable.  Yet, it's actually more layered than that in a much larger
dimensional paradigm than 4 dimensions.  Yes, the effects of our causes in any
action usually have effects that undo our causes as we act them out, intend,
present them, etc..  Yet, those more superficial, linear, first conclusion
layers are not less effective, per se, as the complexity of Karma, Dharma are
beyond our normal comprehension. What is the root of thought, feeling, the root
of feeling, being, the root of being, the extent to which we struggle with what
it is, no?  For, as the following twig of poetree gleans: Soul//
As my breath
is the one, prana,/
And the life's pulse, pala,/
Reaching angelic source, sura,/

So is this mind, manas, a
/  Flowering unfoldment,
/ Unendingly touching
/ The eye
that would it see,/  
Unbeckoning unto thee./
As well, this Bodhi, a temple,/

Of the four and fifth, nur,/  
So entered by atma, a ray of thy sun,/  
Thus being
winged, and
/  As such with wind,/
Flying only in dharma's dance,/
Is returning
to, Brahma, you./  For, there yet, by thy grace, go I./  
We are not who we think
we are, we are, rather, the extent to which we struggle to evolve to be some-
things, spirit, soul, Bodhi, etc., on the path of study that could and should
be one, you, me, forever asked and never answered.  Yet, even if we lived as
prayer, our light only adding to the well of light, our every step in grace,
leaving no footprints that followed none, echoing in all ways, always,
sometimes, like pulling teeth, "...we(e),...", must stalk our words from our
insides 'til we wrangle them, like cats, to the tip of our tongues, no?  For,
"Words weren't meant for cowards..." and we must "be brave...", Happy Rhodes.
We can't allow ourselves the luxury of taking our supposedly 'golden silence'
all the way to the bank, as your average bear does.  These are the end times,
we successfully struggle, to abolish global defacto-slavery by the non-renew-
able energies' corporate structure's machine and it's convolution, against
the global oligarchy's premeditated mass-****** of 7.5 billion people, or
humanity's extinct.  Gandhi, "(supposed) science is the root of all opression"
and, "...we(e),..." must be the change we want in the world".  Is not life
relation, are we not responsible for one another, are not all threads in
the fabric of life needed, as is the evoliutionary ones' mendings, for we
can't allow it to be torn asunder?  If not here, then where, if not now, when,
not you, who? Viva la evolucion.  Indivisible, illimitable you, GOTV.
Please copy, share as you will. this GOTV twig of poetree   :)   reality
Homunculus Oct 2015
Learn to recognize lies, while they stand at
Their podiums, and proselytize,
Like so many Sunday preachers,
You can see it in their eyes, and
Their shifty ****** features, though
Their words seem sincere,
Their subtle cues, serve as
Teachers of their inner intent, so
Don't forget your diligence, and
Let them **** your dissent, with
Empty promises and rhetoric, to
Fill your head with lies about,
How war is for the betterment, of
Nations abroad, the sentiment
Is laughable, the premise is a fraud.
Cause when it all boils down, and
When push comes to shove,
Democracy has grass roots, it's
Not imposed from above, and
At the end of the day, money is
The factor prime, it's the secret
Justifier for this terroristic crime,
First, they bombed Iraqi cities,
In a trial of "Shock and Awe"
That killed even more civilians,
Than what 9/11 saw, and
Once the cities were demolished,
Halliburton then rebuilt them, and
Reaped enormous profits,
To the tune of 40 billion, and
Among other things, in this
"Just" war's spoils, were
The underground oceans,
Flowing full of crude oil, and
We all fund these atrocities,
These lies, these hypocrisies, well
If you decide this ain't the type,
Of thing that you can stand for,
Write "exempt" on line 7, of your W-4
Aside from the W-4 approach, you can also refuse a token amount of any monetary sum on tax form 1040, be it $5 as a symbolic gesture, or a larger amount equivalent to the share of income tax that funds defense/military . Note that if you actually do this, the IRS will try to retaliate. Don't let them intimidate you, people are rarely arrested for low profile tax offenses. There is an establishment called the "War Resisters League" that has been active in the States for over half a century. Their website is an excellent resource for strategies and  guidelines for those whose consciences will no longer allow them to be complicit with this sort of behavior. Please consider this, and spread the message far and wide. If enough people did this on a given year, it would make a powerful statement.
Steve Page Nov 2018
[After Flanders Fields, by Major John McCrae, 1915]

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields,
the beaches of France,
Palestine groves,
Malaya's tropics,
Korean mountains,
Egypt's deserts,
Cyprus' beaches,
Borneo's forests,
Aden's marshes,
Falkland's heaths,
Balkan's tundra,
Afganistan bush,
Iraqi highlands,
[Keep list open....]
The lines before 'the beaches of France' are all McCrae's.
And so it goes on. https://www.britishlegion.org.uk/remembrance/what-we-remember/recent-conflicts/
Barton D Smock Oct 2013
I bury the carnival fish.  my neighbor pretends he is casting while my son ***** on the opening of a plastic bag.  I take the bag and blow into it then pop it on my palm.  my neighbor’s heart is safe but he tries to grab it anyway.  the vietnam war is a pop-up book of the vietnam war.
Anwer Ghani Sep 2019
Have you heard about Sumac? Yes, it is purple, but it is stinging because the beautiful southern nights kissed its lips. The fish love Sumac because the Euphrates carried it on its back for many years. Sumac is so Iraqi so its spirit is kneaded with war stories. Did you know that Sumac and despite its sadness, it indulges in the fragrance of celebration, just like our streets.It is the son of the desert and like our daughters; the daughters of the desert always dream of days without smoke. We inherited Sumac from our Babylonian ancestors who made it with smoky tears, so you need an Iraqi smile to see the splendor of its glory.
Anwer Ghani Dec 2018
OUR MASGOUF

The fishes have high wings, but they can feel our deep pain like sisters. Yes, we are the fishes’  brothers and any halo you may see in the dark night is a birthday of this brotherhood. Come here and see the seeds of this earth in an ancient Sumerian tablet, which its recipes were shining as the sun. In that Iraqi mud, you can see the smoke of our Masgouf and you may smell its exciting flavor. It is residing in our dreams like the moon, and we delightedly disappear in its perfume with the butterflies. The face of our Masgouf is pure, and I will be so happy if you can see its chants dancing as fairies at their small riverbanks.



THE MAGIC DOLMA

The small girls in our gardens knew nothing about the flowers or their breathtaking colors, but they are so efficient in making of magic Dolma. In the morning they meet a green dove, and listen to her chants. They are soft and pure exactly as our Dolma’s smiles. She teaches our girls the art of Dolma and the secret of grape’s leaves with a smooth voice and gentle hands. This Dolma’s master is so soft and deep, and she can color the girls’ hearts with the wedding dresses.

THE KEBAB GLORY

The Iraqis can’t live without war or Kebab, and can’t smell the morning breeze without their deep voices. Our souls were kneaded with the sad Kebab’s Sumac and the tears of war. Our dreams had immersed in the Kebab’s perfume and straggled in the desert of sad Sumac. Yes, you need the Iraqi sad smiles to find the Kebab’s sublime glory.
SUMERIAN RECIPES, A mosaicked poem by the mosaicist poet Anwer Ghani, Iraq 2018.
Amanda Stoddard May 2015
America.
Home of the brave land of the-
1,520 children who died this year from child abuse
and the 670,000 who lived through it
The 1,825 who are abused each day
and for every one report of child abuse-
two others go unreported.
So Josh Duggar can get away with molestation
because of the statue of limitations-
and everyone talks of "his recovery"
but his own sisters cries go unheard.

Oh America-
Where colleges would rather
cover up a ****, than catch a ******.
Where High Schools take pity
on abusers who play sports
or have a high social standing-
Where abusers don't get charged
because the girl they gang raged
was "intoxicated".
Where 4/5 of assaults are committed
by someone known to the victim.
44% of victims are under 18
and every 107 seconds another PERSON
is sexually assaulted
and 68% go unreported
and 98% of rapists will never spend a day in jail.

America-
Home of brave land of the-
41,149 deaths by suicide in 2014.
where it's the 3rd leading cause of death
in youth ages 10-24.
Where 70% of youth in juvenile justice systems
suffer from a mental illness-
but instead of treating it
we continue punishing it.

America.
Where John Green can romanticize
the 2nd leading cause of death in the US
Cancer!
Speaking of cancer-
why haven't we found a cure?
America!
Where why would they find a cure
for a billion dollar industry
that's fueling our economy.

America.
where you have freedom of speech-
but jet fuel can't melt steel beams
and everything is a government conspiracy.
Loose change taught you more about 9/11
than the news.
Where 500,000 Iraqi civilians
have died because of the Iraq war.
and roughly 6,000 soldiers died in Iraq-
but that's not including those who died after the fact
brain intact with PTSD coming home to broken families-
and we still think war is a smart idea.

America!
Where those who are supposed to protect us
eventually just start killing us-
and getting away with it to!
Where protests turn to riots
and everyone that's a shade darker
is labeled "****"
But an "upstanding"
white male citizen
can get away with molesting his sisters-
I'm looking at you Duggar, again.
Where Freddie Gray can be tortured to death
but hey no one cares
because he had a record of selling drugs right?

America-
The land of brave home of the
genetically modified foods.
You know-
the food we actually have to re-modifed
so other countries will deem it safe enough to eat.
Where our fruit isn't even actually fruit
unless it's label ORGANIC.
Where there's a McDonald's around every street corner
and being Vegan in today's food industry is impossible-

America!
Where we were once a melting ***-
but everyone complains about immigrants.

America!
Home of the brave, land of the free.
Where ignorance and Justin Bieber
are more accepted than the LGBT community-
aren't you proud to be an american?
This is a themed poem. I understand we have it better than other countries in some aspects, but this is just based off of looking just solely at the united states. I'm in no way putting down the deaths of soldiers or Iraqi civilians. Just trying to raise awareness. I'll do an entire world one soon.
John F McCullagh Jun 2014
It’s the battle of Baghdad all over again.
Shiite versus Sunni, it’s them against them.
The push for a Caliphate exacts a high toll.
ISIS marches on the capital and, I fear, heads will roll.

On Potomac’s fair shores the politicos dither.
Are we going to help or just let Iraq wither?
We created a vacuum too big to ignore
And ISIS has filled it with ****** and gore

The blood of the innocent washes the streets
as the Iraqi government stares at defeat.
Feckless, our leader, abdicating his role,
is making a putt on the seventeenth hole.

Was it part of his plan to incite revolution?
Is he evil or clueless? What is the solution?
Does he take a position not based on a poll?
We have paid, blood and treasure, and heads ought to roll.
The Baghdad follies
aurora kastanias Oct 2017
I was born in a city and time where and when
things were described by their name in the name
of realism and truth, uncoloured nouns of honesty
depicting society as it was fearing nothing
while no one took offence, as none was intended

in the atmosphere of autocriticism and self-
deprecating humour. In the countryside village
peasants called my father the Greek, as there were
no aliens other than us and the English man
who lived down the valley. Black skins

only existed on TV, and Africa was far more distant
than maps ever suggested. Our Ghanaian origins
were a mesmerising fable to the curious ears
of those willing to imagine exotic airs, indefinite
populations they had never seen. Italians

were used to migrate abroad in search of dreams,
though no one came to dream in Rome until, they did.
First strange faces appeared for myths to become
realities integrating slowly fast-forwarding thirty years
to see, Filipinos housekeepers, cheaper butlers,

Rumanians and Moldavians caregivers to our elders,
Chinese empires beginning with restaurants and shops,
Selling almost anything one could ever think of affordable
to all, now expanding to own bars creating jobs,
employers of impoverished locals and new arrivals.

Bangladeshis taking over once-was Italian grocery cash
and carries working hard, a 24/7 policy just for some.
Those who don’t are found selling umbrellas on the road
a minute before the storm, or taking polaroid pictures
of tourists at night when the gypsies come out

of nomad camps to sell, unscented roses to lovers
unnaturally blue for the day is reserved, to picking
pockets on public transports everybody knows,
signs are put up for those who don’t. Lebanese
hairdressers hiring young Italian girls, eat in Turkish

kebab fast-foods buying halal ingredients in Iraqi stores.
Only blacks in Rome own nothing but their shoes
and reputation. Those from North African countries often deal
on sidewalks for drug addicts playing instruments
sitting next to dogs on Tiber bridges as they beg

for one more dose. Though Egyptians mainly deal
with chefs, closed in restaurant kitchens learning
pizza-making skills, while Pakistanis make excellent
dishwashers. Turning back to blacks Nigerians,
Senegalese, Malians and many more improvise

themselves as clandestine street vendors
of jewels and fake bags, the latter secretly supplied
by Italian mafia-like wannabes. Often spotted running
away from police, packing goods in white sheets, held
on their backs as they flee, leaving fallen merchandise

behind them. Finally some remain unseen, straight
from heart of darkness and surroundings they stay
strictly on TV, passing from satiric sketches of the past
to NGO adverts crying out, for help against famine,
poverty and sickness, calling for action two euros a day

via sms to keep, consciousness clean, as we close
our eyes not to see, pretend we do not know, hiding
behind words we call, politically correct not to face, take
distance from reality and truth, disguise inconvenience
and uncomfort with ridiculously embellished, jargon.

Some exceptions obviously exist, as many manage
to live outside the box, though alas and do not blame me
for speaking the truth, they remain to date exceptions
dear to my heart, as are all the characters of this portrait,
scattered pieces of humanity, pieces of me.
On political correctness

— The End —