"rallied" poems
With the start of the first inning
as the wind whistled through the tree's
Our short stop had his shoulder broke
and the fates blew in on the breeze
This team was a thorn in the side
of the Harding Presidents Club
It was on this night my son Tate
was scheduled to play as a sub
The kid pitching for North Union
hurled a cooking heater down field
You could hear that freight train coming
as it's hide was 'bout to be peeled
Their coach then rallied his talent
pressing their shoulders to the wheel
like natives dancing 'round a fire
driving devils who'd struck a deal
A death defying mid-air, catch
the bounding, ball tossed on the run
The Devil was in town this night
riding in on the setting sun
They dove and slid then nearly flew
as if the angels rode their backs
While running bases half possessed
plowing the field with cleated tracks
No one remembered the last time
that our team had beaten this bunch
That night they took the field in style
serving them all up for their lunch
,
The dice kept coming up seven
and oh prophetically so
When the sun had finally set
the score was seven to zero
Come ye father's follow your child
through the tough times every one
For the oft chance will someday come
when they will have finally won
Tate
© 2012 Tate Morgan
Written
April 12, 2014
Americans love the underdogs.
original
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1342622/
Original video poem of the same
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1354978/
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
'tis a sad sad
tale of woe
of which I sing
of gods and godesses
and their lessening
how forlorn
the goddess Ceres
once loved by all
and wooed by many
when unprovoked
and unforeseen
a war was wrought
'gainst fair queen
caught unawares
her throne assailed
her forces scattered
'twas all unfair
cast down she was
from lofty throne
no longer crowned
no more beloved
pierced thru
with many thorns
belittled
and besmirched
her reputation
and now her station
lost far beyond
re-incarnation
silently
she slips away
lost
and near forgotten
wounded
and rarely seen
her sullen thoughts
of malice reign
shamed and bleeding
plotting her revenge
till time and chance
provide the proper
circumstance
then all the thorns
that pierced her thru
she shook as many blades
and hurled
those bitter barbs as one
'gainst Hades' mighty gates
shaken he
from his dark slumber
his rallied forces
armed in numbers
their banners raised
on solar breezes
as trumpets blare
thru breathless reaches
voices shout
in protestation
slide rules locked
in astrometric
calculations
oh see how Ceres
scorned and mocked
has wrought
her rotting vengeance
on Pluto's frozen rocks
"Oh woe to thee
my Persephone
flee thee now
to thy father's house
for thy husband's hearth
hath been broken
and Hades' home
now just a token
My lofty edifice
a shattered wrack
an' all that's left
'tis a humble
wretched shack"
Pic Poem
https://www.pix-star.com/media/cache_local/download/23fc881b88e812947b061094f5694d32/JPlutoThouHastFallen-e52.jpg
.
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
There once was a man who lived in a tower
He had orange skin and fools gave him power
His hands shook with fury at every critique
While his family's obligations were to remain chic
His head began to swell while his eyes grew smaller
But his silly little brain it began to falter
This was a man who thought ****** assault was a joke
Until Women around the world began to hope that he'd choke
Women gathered and rallied and screamed for their rights
They took to the streets in ***** hats and tights
The man did not like this, how dare they disagree!
With the world he was trying to create
Full of misogyny
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 4:56 PM UTC
---
Once upon a time
In a land so far away
There was a wretched kingdom
Were a vampire held sway
He was very ancient
Handsome as a knave
Dressed in black and silken garb
Was said to be quite brave
But such a cruel creature
He devoured the towns
The soldiers were all petrified
Would not defend the crown
So the King of the castle
Searched both far and wide
For mighty men of valor
To defend the countryside
Finally up north
He found a daring band
Of golden headed Vikings
To defend his failing land
The company of Norsemen
Could not be laidback
They rallied their army
And decided to attack!
They put no garlic round their necks
No ash stakes did they carry
They knew not the vampire ways
And so they were not wary
But oh! What valiant men!
They made quite a sight!
Scaling the vampiric castle walls -
IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT!
The vampire, Vlad the terrible,
Made a crimson flood
Destroyed every one of them
And feasted on their blood!
It was before morning
The darkest witching hour
Vlad finished dispatching them
His countenance was dour
Then a light came streaking
From the pitch black sky -
It was a Valkyrie!
She made a fearsome cry!
"You! Vlad the terrible!"
The ghoul looked up, aghast!
"You feasted on my Norsemen -
But I am here at LAST!!!"
The mighty female warrior
Shook back her golden mane
"You've killed many villagers
But won't do it AGAIN!!!"
The brilliant armored woman
Faced off the evil lord
He laughed, "You cannot slay me!
No! Not with that sword!"
"And for all your armor
What do you suppose?
Your sweet delicious throat
Is slender... and EXPOSED!!!
The Valkyrie laughed
She threw back her hair
She let fly her sword
It scissored through the air!!!
The dreaded Vlad was impaled
But NOT through his chest
Through his very garments
The great sword came to rest
To a TREE the monster stuck
Like a fly caught with a pin
He could not free himself!
And he saw the rising SUN!!!
He struggled against his cape
He'd have none of THAT!
But Vlad could not break the sword
So he became a bat!
Up he flew to escape his fate
But a ray of sun broke through
With an arc he burnt to spark
IT DESTROYED VLAD AS HE FLEW!!!
The Valkyrie, triumphant,
Cried out, "it is I!!!
For when there is a battle,
I decide who lives and dies!!!
I decide the outcome!
Tis not by happenstance...
Won't see you in Valhalla
*You never had a chance!!!*
So ended the battle
The Valkyrie WON.
The outcome was decided...
...Before it was begun!!!
SoulSurvivor
5/6/2015
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
I can't help but wonder
how I have come to this place.
Held together by the past.
Rallied for the future
Accepting this present
It is a wonderful gift, I must say
Yet, I can't help but wonder
how I came to this place.
Did I come here to be safe?
Did I come here to be known?
Will I stay here?
Will I venture into the unknown?
No matter where my mind goes, I will always wonder
how I came to this place.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 6:52 PM UTC
I SIT HERE DRENCHED IN THE
BLOOD OF ONE OF THE NATIVES.
WE CAPTURED THE LAND AND
HIS MIND WITH OUR ALTERED
EDUCATION, IT WORKED LIKE
AN ANAESTHETIC, OR BETTER,
A SEDATIVE. HE PONDERED ON
WHETHER OR NOT HE IS HUMAN
WHILE WE BEGAN PLOUGHING
HIS SOIL. HE AWOKE FROM HIS
DAYDREAM, TO OUR AMAZEMENT,
WE THOUGHT WE HAD HIM FOILED.
HE RALLIED HIS MEN, THEY DID NOT
HESITATE. I WILL GIVE IT TO THEM,
THEY ARE ARMOURED WITH THE BRAVERY
AND THE STRENGTH OF A THOUSAND APES.
BUT IT WAS TOO LATE, WE SLAUGHTERED
THEM FROM A DISTANCE, AND TOOK CONTROL
OF THEIR CHILDREN, WIVES AND MAIDS.
SPEAKING OF CHILDREN, HOW GOES OUR
SWEET DAUGHTER ROSE? I MISS HER
DEARLY AND I LOOK FORWARD TO
EMBRACING HER WITH FATHERLY
LOVE WHEN THIS WAR COMES TO A CLOSE.
UNTIL WE MEET,
__________
- t.m
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
"What must we endure?"
Cried the naive child.
"When must we endure?"
Lamented the cynical adult.
"How must we endure?"
Worried the desperate parent.
"Why must we endure?"
Questioned the lazy innovator.
"Whom must we endure?"
Rallied by those who dodge the questions.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 1:44 AM UTC
They came from the deep sky
with conquest in their eye
not content with the trees
they were here to squeeze
us
Drove us underground
put us in zoos
wailing and gnashing our only sound
hairy devils they ate Gary Neville..
tried to eat Vinnie Jones
He ate them, burped, and spat out all the bones
"Oi! monkey breath!" his battle cry
He rallied humanity he would not let us die...
Got riled up, called in his Hollywood pals
started kicking-ass and seducing gals
Rowdy Roddy Piper and Van-Damme
left those flying monkeys
looking like chewed ham
They released mankind from slavery
saving us from certain doom
The Fall of The Flying Monkeys
in a theatre near you soon.....
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 5:21 AM UTC
Rocking my snap back, blowing up like a bellow back, juggling bars like it were a hacky sack. Life tries it’s best to give me set backs, but I just sit back and get back up for a comeback. Underdog from the underground, not here to blunder around for I want to be glory bound. Bound for glory, can’t keep me downed man for this is my heroes story. Story of my life, story that almost ended with a knife. Had enough of being left astray, for I no longer was going let myself be treated like an ashtray. Going into the fray, going in but this time I promise I won’t lose my way. Weighed my options, weighted the choices, and now they come to flourishing motion. I only listen to my own notions, and I will sacrifice anything to succeed even if I end up like the borthans. Death stares through the stars, but I won’t be taken by no Death Star. Starting ground up, for you gotta do what ever it takes to get to the top. Toppled the haters and the fakers, for my bars are like eating a snickers. Keep yawl satisfied and I’m so grateful that my effort has been gratified. Bonified dignified undenied modified undefined went in applied and rallied from a moral guide to tear apart the diseased hide. Government conspiracy, government deemed freedom of speech as heresy. And here I see the flaws, and here I came out of the depths with my claws. Clawed for my dream, dream of attaining cream. Escaped the depths of the Demi-gorgan pit, because it’s all about survival of those who are more fit. Fit to be a decency, but because I’m different I’m deemed a discrepancy. So I’m going in like a ghost doing recon call me Tom Clancy, exposing all these ******* fallacies. Falling down an icy slope, and for the longest time we couldn’t open up because we was introduced to dope which was anything but dope. Dopamine filling my being, neurotransmitters firing so fast that I attain this happy feeling. False perceptions to stimulants, false ideals gotta use discretion’s before I end up in a addiction predicament. Moving fast, moving slow, the ride won’t last, so I always gotta have me mo. Self medicate self evaporate self ********** which leads to self hate and broken fate.Too long since I noticed anything but myself, feel like a ***** villain man so should I arrest my self. I just long for rest myself, and maybe it’s time for someone else to assess myself. Maybe it’s time to visit the mental asylum
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
We all live in a vast sea of humanity
Surrounded by forces of brutality
The strong always inherit the earth
The weak have suffered since birth
The swimmers embrace as a whole
While the drowning are left in the cold
Once I was a drowner desperate to swim
Destined to join the swimmers was my hymn
Straying away from myself couldn't stay me afloat
Dependence on the strong questioned my code
All on myself left the drowners to their descent
The abyss swallowed me until I made my repent
Praise for the swimmers and ignorance to the drowners
These actions were of no strength but my worst failures
Blood spilled from my heart yet there was a saviour
Turning to my kind was I no longer a traitor
I brought them out of the darkness to the light
We became a force very strong the further we tight
As we rallied our strength, we fought our way to the surface
Torn hearts became sewn into one without weakness
Our return journey was not of acceptance but for truth
We found no light with the swimmers for our soothe
But from within we found our own suns of nourish
Embracing who we are founded our true courage
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
Glass in my windows rattled
So furious was the birth.
Once over, peace more
Serene in face of wrath
We had seen.
All who saw regarded
In awe fresh beauty -
Time did stop, and sound.
We saw wonder in newness,
Familiar land transformed
To heaven's purity -
Then set out to to sequester innocence,
Sacrificed to our convenience.
We moved and pushed
Poisoned and cursed,
Rallied weapons to beat it.
So now Snow looks like us
Broken, finally defeated;
Grey, scarred and ugly,
Age taking shares by day,
Life by slow trickles
Ebbing away,
Long since lost of purpose.
Feb 20, 2010
Feb 20, 2010 at 4:59 PM UTC
I heard the crow at dawn again.
It awoke me from a deep slumber.
As if to chastise me for not being up already.
There is so much to do, of course.
So I sat up on the edge of the bed.
And stretched up with my hands clasped.
The sun slowly creeping itself over the window ledge
And striking my eye just so...making me squint.
The crow called again.
I must not be fast enough for him.
I stand up with a half- hearted vigor
And rub my eyes.
I proceed with with my morning routine
Skipping the harsh mouthwash today.
Again the crow.
He hurries me as if I am racing a clock.
And makes my heart beat more prominently in my chest.
What an awful call a crow has.
Incessant and prodding.
I feel as if I am being yelled at and I don't deserve that.
I cross into the kitchen and reach over the door.
To the mount that holds my ol' Winchester.
I push open the squeaking screen door.
And step outside.
Again the crow calls but this time I am rallied.
I am too slow for him, am I?
We will see about that!
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 3:27 PM UTC
King Arthur the great, a man to be noted,
head of the table, of greatness t'is coated,
slayer of dragons, killer of kings,
***** of brats and fellater of things.
After a triumphant skirmish, which Arthur did lead,
it was decided he'd celebrate in his great hall of mead.
One of his councilmen, being ever so corny,
decided to throw old Arthur an ****
he rallied his men,
about a hundred and ten,
and proved to Arthur that they were quite *****
He yanked Arthur's hair,
thrashed his fine heir,
and while in the process, he was not far from bare.
He spread Arthur's *** and shoved in his large diaphragm,
then threw in his huge **** and yelled "Here comes the leviathan!"
He thrusted and pounded then started to moan,
he ****** on his ******* and continued to bone.
The councilman, not satisfied, pulled out his large knife,
his eyes were bloodshot , his **** was his life.
He stared at Arthur's *** crack, it looked rather thin,
he carved it and sliced it then shoved it back in.
He looked into Arthur's eyes and said he wont waste,
he told all his men to **** with such haste.
Not one hole was spared, his nostrils were bleeding,
he turned at the councilman and asked for a beating.
The councilman nodded and with such a strange grin,
put it in Arthur's mouth, t'is no mere sin.
He slapped it, shook it and cried for power,
the gods must have heard him, his men started to cower.
He screamed and yelled as he let out his gravy,
he licked Arthur's eyes and cried "too bad theirs no baby!"
Arthur's eyes turned red, mad with such rage,
he snapped off his **** and thrashed the old sage.
He ripped out his stomach and had it ****** clean,
he shat on the sack and ****** on his spleen.
He stripped off his shirt and threw him on a bed,
then blasted a load, my word he was dead!
he ******* the mans carcass and licked his curved spine,
he exploded with power and yelled "By God it is time!"
And with a snap of his fingers the man turned to dust,
Arthur then cackled "well he earned my trust".
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
Seldom have I seen such strength, such purposefulness shown
And I have witnessed many who have made their message known,
Immovable this woman stands in seas of raging tide
Where friend and foe, as challengers, she’s deftly swept aside.
Resolute she stands atop white cliffs of blazing chalk
To glare across the Channel where her predecessors stalked
In league with Winston Churchill with pugnacious jawline set
When he thrashed the fiend in Jackboots and field grey appuletes.
In league with Margaret Thatcher with that glint of grey in eyes
To the accolades of Gorbachev who recognised the prize.
In league with Boadecia the ghost of power past
Who rallied this great nation to fight on to the last.
Snapping at her ankles the dogs of turmoil writhe
And comrades of another time amass to criticise,
Labourites howl murderously to all who would take heed
While the rabble rousing Europeans joust to intercede.
Swirling round her skirts they mass now screaming their abuse
At her articulated message of a pathway less obtuse.
If Tony Blair had the ***** it’s to her side he’d dance
As would Jeremy Corbett but of that there’s little chance,
Her Majesty stands forthright, as do all her heirs
Including Will and Harry who are cheering from the stairs.
Dianna’s there in spirit plus the Kiwis from the pub
And the rough crowd from the chippie all dolled up with a scrub.
She needs ALL of you behind her in her struggle for the best,
Independence for Great Britain is ascendancy’s great quest.
The very heart of what It means to dwell within these shores
The very heart of what it means to be Brittish to the core.
England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales combining for the task
Of a guarantee of future from the quagmire of the past.
We SHALL stand behind Teresa May and make our voices heard
As we scream aloud the anthem to impart our final word….
RULE BRITANNIA,
BRITTANIA RULE THE WAVES
BRITAIN NEVER, NEVER EVER…
SHALL BE SLAVES!
Boom, boom, boom
RULE BRITANNIA,
BRITANNIA RULE THE WAVES
BRITAIN NEVER, NEVER EVER….
SHALL BE SLAVES!
M.
18 December 2018
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 6:33 PM UTC
Sitting in the Irish home of the man
I had traveled about a fourth the world to see,
Eating the dinner that had been prepared, by his Irish wife, at their table.
Eating, just the three of us, together in their Irish home, with the Irish grass
Growing outside. Their Irish son, just home from being abroad for over a year, came in
Said hello, told me welcome in coming, told stories of his time in Africa,
And Australia, telling it in tones a little less loud than normal,
His mother and father
And me, at the table, drinking Irish whisky, and Italian wine.
Tiredness took the son, and left us there alone,
Left me there alone, to listen
As the father spoke, in tones so gentle, and feeling quiet, as he told the stories
Of racing cars, and travels to Africa, and Egypt and Israel, and the boats he took
Across. There was food on them, beautiful produce laid out, fresh fruit, and breads
Salmon, bagels, fresh tea, cakes, and everything good on that buffet.
Till that second day, when the buffet was laid out exactly as the day before, and the
Third, and the fourth, and the boat lay in for supplies somewhere in the Middle East,
He managed a crossing to the shore, off the boat, away from the buffet.
More wine, around the table, his wife glowing and seeming to be more than happy,
My hands feeling like they were laced with lead, the drink finding its way in, and he
Being from Ireland, told the story, how the King of Ireland, way, way back in time
Lived there, on his property, rallied his troops there, and told them all, he was to conquer
Those from the North. His voice in a mere whisper now, the clock making its rocking
Click, much louder than he spoke, and his Irish blood through his veins, he told
Of the Kings’ run, through the shallow part of the lake, around the enemy, which
He conquered handily, and kept southern Ireland clear and fresh, and forever separate.
These last words, came in barely a whisper, all of us leaned in, all of us, in Ireland.
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 5:40 PM UTC
This ring,
He gave it to me, you know.
It came as a surprise,
On a day so right,
On a morning so white,
With Clouds so blue,
Just at the right time.
I, a flower, opening up its petals,
To the golden morning sun.
There it was,
There, in its greatness,
A delicately cut metal,
With a beautifully designed pink symmetrical stone,
A literal piece of art, oozing radiation.
It’s luminosity never seizes,
To synthesize my flowery heart.
Let me hold on to you,
Dear Source of light,
For you are,
A constant reminder of the moment, I said
“YES, I WILL FOREVER BE YOURS” to infinity,
As the Heavens and Nature rallied around You and Me.
Around Us, to witness, our two-become-one.
Jun 23, 2020
Jun 23, 2020 at 9:37 AM UTC
For Three years we had been used as slaves,
since surrendering to the Japanese.
We’d been starved, beaten and abused
and lived in filth and misery.
We’d heard they planned to **** us all
once it was clear they’d lose the war.
We’d lived in fear, like Damocles,
waiting for the day Japan would fall.
Then came the news of Victory
and our tormentors disappeared.
More eager, then, to save themselves
Than carry out the order we had feared.
Beneath my bunk a treasure hid,
concealed there from the Japanese.
It was saved from the fall of Singapore,
then passed through several hands to me.
We struck down their flag, the rising sun,
for we were sure their sun had set.
We replaced it with the Stars and Stripes,
Around that banner we rallied yet.
Hearts filled with pride, we stood as men
and saluted the red white and blue.
We were like scarecrows dressed in rags,
but we knew that this ordeal was through.
Our air force dropped us food supplies
and shortly after we entrained.
We’d made a bonfire of the camp
to consume the memory of our pain.
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 9:03 AM UTC
The guise of a false hope warily cloaks
an unkempt soul bereft of fortitude -
stolid in the belligerent face of unnamed evil,
an aura of past opulence adulterates naive purity,
the stigma augmented by an insidious breach
of internal asylum. The vulnerability of
a soldier against oneself takes precedence
in the chasmal crusade yet to come; omniscient
intimation gives way to dour prophecies,
ambidextrous in their intricate verbosity.
Molten in the inferno of cross-interrogation,
pliable in the hands of a mortared veteran,
reiteration serves only as a gibe, a grievance
only the most foolish jester would make
before a corroding monarch. The demons
have rallied for annihilation; the starling
warbles an aria of capitulation, its notes
reverberating through the tentative sunset,
a sky of gray and orange mingling with the song
to convey an unequivocal defeat. But after every
dusk comes a period of resurrection, and from the haze
emerges a heroine unrecognizable if not for eyes
ablaze with scarred determination. She strides
with the strength of ten thousand legions, a leviathan's
courage uncovered in her still-beating heart.
The devil flees, uncomfortable in the blinding presence
of mortal accompanied by heavenly body. This -
this is redemption for armor lost, the answer
to her yearning prayers that had been barely audible over the
convulsing sobs that had swallowed her for so long.
Finally vanquished of the toxic beast that had claimed her,
she rises victorious, proclaiming amidst glory a single word -
“Checkmate.”
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
Listen up barflies, tricksters and drunks,
People’s lives wasted with heads down the dunk;
What if there really is a land for you and me,
Where the bar is eternal, refills are free.
You may have heard the jokes
Escaping creased lips,
Cheeks scattered with scars
Lives rallied around bars.
But I implore you;
What if the beer runs in a river
And contains something sweet to help along your liver
Bags of peanuts grow on trees
No alley-way dogs crawling with fleas,
No aging ****** the price a humiliating tease.
We of the wasted, the broken; the done
Heaven doesn’t really sound like much fun.
Tennis greens and elegant scenes
Don’t meet our tastes
For ***** ashtrays
Engine oil and grease;
Gangs of bikers and hordes of police.
When I find that sign creaking in the wind
I’ll indulge in one final binge;
With an ex-wife in Hawaii
A boy out in Leicester (or New Mexico)
A veteran-frazzled brother
And a daughter who doesn’t want to know;
A bank sends love letters requesting my stuff.
The bible urges me clean
I look up to heaven
Doesn’t sound like my scene.
So hear me you wasted, you hardened,
Capillaries burst staining noses red;
Let’s comply to the census
And drink ‘til we’re dead,
Because the eternal bar, the river of beer,
Is all in your drunken head.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
To the right of my mind
a stuttering shudder stroked
into a conjuring trick
mist and fog precluded
with eternal density
Giving way to a definite
bypass of emotion
sitting, wondering, hammering
for the solution to troubled
senses that gripped in tight fists
Gradual senseless doubts
fogged up the highway
skidded into black icy fear
the foghorn sounding its blast
Announcing its brazen load
Keep me safe in corners
despite their black features
poking at me, barricading
my tomorrow with segmented
troubles, woven in pin pricking motion
Grinding statues were still
age transforming their limbs
into crumbling confinement
I struck out and rallied
them, together we circled
Transforming our once isolated
innards into sharing heart
shaped sentences
heard by those who chose to hear
and found droplets of hope
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 9:07 AM UTC
I stand in front tears roll down my face,
they all had something to lose where I had not,
looking towards the graves with crosses on top,
my theory of a soldier doesn't cry is truly broken,
putting a flower on each of the 96 graves,
I look back at the 100 that remain and the 3 at my back.
She puts her hand on my shoulder for now she stands at my side.
She wipes away my tears and holds my arm close,
not afraid what the others would think she bravely smiles,
war is red and so is her hair,
though unlike many others she holds no regret coming along,
one question I have for her makes her smile,
My name is Joan Fira she will say.
Me and her stand on the hill though when she asks mine I simply say,
put your helmets on we march and walk away,
my mind is filled with shame how can I tell her I've no name,
the enemy stronghold stands in front of us,
inside is 450 men though farmers and untrained soldiers.
They rallied against our capital for setting two barbarian villages on fire,
I tell myself what we did is right though no matter how many times it never sinks in,
my prediction at first was right no amount of training can prepare one to take a life,
and right now I know this is not just another war.
We charge inside storming the walls my mace slams into the face of one,
my sword through anothers heart,
behind me I hear them pour down hot oil down upon some soldiers heads.
though not on hers for I jump in the way,
tears are in her eyes as I slip away.
Before my eyes close forever more I hear her say Red Is The Color Of War.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
The rain that fell the night before
had never seen
the sun.
The early birds were bathing
in the rainbows
of the dawn.
Morning came, regaled in blue -
and blazed a trump
of Spring.
It rallied over damp and dark -
berserk with songs
to sing.
The rain that fell the night before
had never seen
the like.
The laughing dew had never known
the magnitude
of sky.
Nor laughter
had it known at all.
" How long
have trees
been green ? "
the answer had to wait
for god
to know his dream
had dreams
The rain that fell the night before
had never wept
a grain.
Had never felt a feeling
that a cloud
could never
name.
The rain became
a mirror
that had never seen
a soul
but knew, somehow
it had one
to savor
the unknown.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 11:26 AM UTC
Danzig - Mother with lyrics
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wvQ2z-DWBA8
and they rallied round my family...
rage against the machine - bulls on parade lyrics
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eQUdVZetaFE
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
I am on a voyage to somewhere far
On a meagre boat, on an ocean vast
The water is calm but deep and murky
The day is pleasant but passes slowly
From here and there, and near and far
The mortals on board are a motley lot
Most are calm and pass time patiently
But few count every second covetously
--x--
Like birds of a feather, they came together
To cajole the captain to go even faster
“By wind and current our speed is good”
To the deaf and dumb the capt'n preached
“We know better” they arrogantly said
And rallied all others to back their deed
Most kept quiet, but a few did concur
“Captain go faster, or we'll take over!”
The ruckus got louder and over heated
I closed my eyes and my ears I covered
“I'm above all this!, it doesn't concern me”
And escaped to a world of make-believe
But not long after, I was getting quite wet
I was sinking, I saw, along with the rest
*“If only I hadn't been such a **** coward,
If only I had made a stand, If only I had....*
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
Steve
April 29, 1967-October 7, 2018
Miss You Buddy
No sunset in this park today.
But of course not, for today is your birthday.
Everywhere I look, all I see is grey!
The Angels are weeping so we don’t have to; that’s not what you would want.
You would want us to share our memories and trust me I have 4 pages front and back,
AT LEAST!
You were taken too soon, no time to adapt
So unexpected and you were the happiest I’d seen you
With Ivan home and Emil good, and Jackson to fill the dull moments
“Action Jackson”, that’s what you called him
And so did my Papa Dale
You loved that he loved music,
You wanted to teach him to play catch.
You were making progress, taking steps
I miss your loyal, honest and witty ***
Oh,and I started studying numerology!
You’ll never guess your number!
#1
But I’m sure that comes as no surprise
You would have loved it!!!
Hope you are up there watching baseball, drinking beer, listening to music,
and telling stories about your family
with your old military pals!
I miss you dear friend
I miss your home, it was my 2nd
No judgement ever
We all had our ****
Different days, different times
But we rallied together to help, and have a good time
You and I never fought except maybe for a second
We playfully fought about baseball
You were a die hard Cubs fan,
and I was team Cards!
You were getting back on track,
on your way to work
No way is that fair
I miss you dear friend
Your stories, your humor
You making fun of Blair slickly,
us laughing til we cried
I miss your heart, you’re real, you’re true
FAMILY WAS EVERYTHING
and the rest, music, military, beer,
baseball, laughing, and Laura
You were a simple man
You knew exactly who you were at all times
That I always admired
You thought you knew it all; you probably did!
I miss kicking back people watching on the front porch or music in the garage!
Miss your stories, your humor, your strong will
And that 2nd place I thought of as home.
Loved your dad when he was here and loved both Emil and Ivan instantly upon meeting
I hope your kids know if they need anything, to call
You stepped up for Jackson,
That really says it all!
I miss you buddy, til next time...
I raise this beer
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 8:05 PM UTC