"sgt" poems
The Beatles - I Am The Walrus (Freaky Rare Version)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIXEUcrUCtI
Strawberry Fields Forever
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9r4mJ3aEhHo
Magical Mystery Tour
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqb_fJd-GVs
We Can Work It Out
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g--Vlij1X1Y
MLK's Last Speech
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aL4FOvIf7G8
The Fool On The Hill
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDtK7xUIDxk
How Long? Not Long!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAYITODNvlM
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I Have Been To The Mountaintop
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nL5vJKXzOrI
Sgt Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xj2bmQ4P4cM
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
Tethers that prevent flight
from shaken swollen tears
feathers spent in woeful plight
and a snipers cross-hair sight
amid muffled explosive cheers
Brothers in Arms
never lost to forgotten years
and the sound of a distant gunshot
is all that he hears.
R.I.P. Sgt L.J.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
mr moonlight
mr nowhere
maxwell edison
mr jones
dr robert
sgt pepper
mr kite, bb king
edgar allen poe
walter raleigh
mat busby
the hendersons
and maggie mae
mr mustard
captain marvel
rita lucy jojo
vera chuck and dave
mother nature
polethene pam
mr heath doris day
and buffalo bill
loretta martin
**** sadie
hey jude eggman
my michelle
rigby and pilchard
or elenor and semolina
took father mckenzie
too see a dancing horse
henry his name was
rocky raccoon was there
prudence rode elephant
to the i me mine waltz
---
There gonna crucify me
the way things go
christ it aint easy
the next day dont know
you know the walrus was paul man
johns bird can sing
george was a genie
ringo wore a ring
but paul is dead now
george stole his soul
john is alive though
ringos in a hole
her royal highness the tax man
commit the perfect crime
she asked for more
with a belly full of wine
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
Fifty years ago this week
Sgt. Pepper he began to speak
Hidden deep just like a motley fool
Inside four boys from Liverpool
It took four lads as inspiration
to bring hope to a crying nation
After November's assassination
They grabbed us...we held on
John, Paul, George and Ringo
on Ed's Sunday Show
We sat back and watched them go
They grabbed us...we held on
They came and held the hand
Of a still in mourning land
A little skiffle band
They grabbed us...we held on
We were brought back from the dark side
We were on a rock and roll ride
With four young lads from Mersey Side
They grabbed us...we held on
They grabbed our hearts and souls
They expanded musics goals
They all had different roles
they grabbed us...we held on
In times...things were changing
The band was re-arranging
No more tours were staging
They grabbed us...we held on
Soon, they all went on their way
McCartney sang "Another Day"
John, he had a lot to say
George and Ringo...just played on
John was shot at decades start
It shocked the world and broke apart
Those who held him in our heart
The Beatles were no more
George died too, all things must pass
He always had a silent class
The parts aren't greater than the mass
The Beatles were no more
Is there anyone out in the land
Who will come and take us by the hand
I hope that you will understand
They grabbed us...we held on
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
~
fallen…
heroes all,
saviors-in-training,
on mission repeat;
the service-giving,
life-giving,
members of
a fighting team.
existing solely that
you and i
can spend our time
consumed
with the art
of loving well;
their actions
no less impassioned
than our own,
no less worthy,
no less loving and
no less selfless.
whatever we think
of war,
we must think
of the individuals
who move toward the fray
rather than away;
those to whom
we owe our very
everyday existence
be it extraordinary
or mundane;
to their daily efforts.,
to their repeated training,
to their daily sacrifice,
we offer
a prayer-filled salute!
and to these
who paid dearly,
to wives,
sons & daughters,
mothers and fathers,
nation with a
grateful heart,
a debt we cannot repay,
we humbly offer
our heart-filled
and loving tribute.
may you ever
rest in peace.
~
*post script.
serving you and me from Camp Lejeune, North Carolina,
these fallen Marine heroes are:
Capt. Stanford Henry Shaw III of Basking Ridge, New Jersey;
Master Sgt. Thomas Saunders of Camp Lejeune;
Staff Sgt. Liam Flynn of Queens, New York;
Staff Sgt. Trevor P. Blaylock of Lake Orion, Michigan;
Staff Sgt. Kerry Michael Kemp of Port Washington, Wisconsin;
Staff Sgt. Andrew Seif of Holland, Michigan; and
Staff Sgt. Marcus Bawol from Warren, Michigan
http://www.marinecorpstimes.com/story/military/2015/03/13/names-of-7-marines-killed-in-helicopter-crash-released/70277156/
(the four fallen Guard members remain unnamed at this time)
next month my son is deployed
to points classified to us his parents.
i can only think about his sacrifice
in terms of time, money, exposure to danger …
and his safe return!*
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
On Christmas Day we wake up
We've no stocking on our bed
We've got a plastic kit box
taking up space there instead
You see, we aren't at home with you
Even though you wish we are
We're celebrating Christmas
Over here in Khandahar
A big Merry Christmas to friends and family
of Cpl. Mike Cannandale of St. Louis, Missouri, USA
We have our turkey dinner too
Stuffing, taters, pumpkin pie
We all sit here telling stories
And it's hard just not to cry
so, we do, because we're not back home
Having Christmas like you all
But, we're over here in Khandahar
Because we all answered the call
Merry Christmas to all friends and family of Liuetenant James Mc Caskill
of Great Grimsby, Lincolnshire, England
We have a snowman by our tent
He's made of plywood, painted white
Thank god, we made no snowballs up
We'd get splinters in a fight
We go to church and pray for peace
And wish we could go home
But, over here at Christmas time
There's just no where to roam
Merry Christmas to friends and family of
Captiain John Watson, PPCLI, in Greenwood, Nova Scotia, Canada
We made our videos last week
To send you our best wishes
We'd all love to be back with you
Washing up those Christmas dishes
For now, we are one family
Joined in heart, and soul and mind
Having a Christmas meal in Khandahar
The best meal of it's kind
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to friends
and family, of Marine Master Sgt. Tim Wilcox, Plano, Texas, USA
Next year we will be home with you
Having Christmas as we should
Praying for peace, hope and prosperity
And all things that are good
for now though, we are over here
missing you this Christmas Day
We just hope you're thinking of us
As we keep the foe at bay
Merry Christmas to all the friends, family, co-workers and supporters
of all the soldiers in War Zones everywhere, who can't be at home this Christmas
May they all get home safe.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year
Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 7:34 PM UTC
*He tapped me on the shoulder
Before he had to go
Said I'll be your Guardian Angel
I just wanted you to know
He said he knows no one who went
That came back and then complained
So he guessed the place was pretty nice
And was sure he'd want to stay
He knew he'd see my grandma
Who had went three years before
She'd been waiting for him patiently
To walk him through God's door
Then he asked us not to worry
Said he knows what is in store
He was pleased with the life he lived
And knew God would show him more
Spent his last three weeks with family
Where he said his sweet goodbyes
My final memory of this man
Was the brave ending to his life
He would give to me this passion
But to the world he gave much more
The life he lived was one of love
He was the gift I most adored*
In Memory
Sgt. Harold Addison Yates
My Grandfather
Carl Joseph Roberts
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 5:12 AM UTC
At the fountain
by Nelson’s Column
you met Julie
in mini skirt
and bright
red top
her hair hugged
into a ponytail
a copy of Sgt Pepper’s
under her arm
you in jeans
and open necked shirt
came across to her
standing there
looking into the fountain’s water
sorry I’m late
you said
missed my train
no problem
she said
bought my own Beatles' LP
and she held it out to you
friends say it's neat
and way out
she added
as you scanned
the sleeve
where we going?
you asked
drink I must have a drink
she said
how’s things
at the hospital?
usual stuff: treatment
drugs to get me
off drugs
therapy
psychiatrists
nurses
and so on
you?
she asked
I’m ok
you said
ok is crap
ok is boring
is mediocre
life either *****
or it’s exciting
and over the top
she said
the Square was crowded
people
and pigeons
and water
and sun
and sky
and mixture
of perfumes
and bus fumes
let’s get that drink
she said
and so you went off
to a bar off
Trafalgar Square
and ordered two drinks
and sat outside
in the sunshine
I think the fat nurse
on my ward suspects us
she said
suspects what?
you asked
you and me
and that small room
o that
you said
she took out
a cigarette pack
and took out
two cigarettes
and gave one
to you and lit
them both
think she’s jealous
or envious
Julie said smiling
free love
makes some women angry
Schopenhauer said
somewhere
that wives and ******
despise women
who give ***
away free
it undermines
their contracts
how’s Jamie?
you asked
still locked up
she said
they claim
he was supplying
but he wasn’t
they ******* him up
she inhaled
and searched
your eyes
you still playing
your saxophone?
yes
you said
I practice everyday
annoys
the neighbours
sometimes
but got to
keep up with it
and hone the skills
she sat legs crossed
her thighs exposed
her footwear bright
her fingers holding
the cigarette
the lips red
her eyes
like small mirrors
small **** pressed
against the red top
the memory
of that small room
off the ward
she and you
and brooms
and boxes
and such
and kisses
and ***
and on edge
for the door to open
but not overmuch.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 3:33 AM UTC
Honored Man
A man who seemed so big
Yet would give the world to me
With hands made of stone
A life that you should know
He was a old time Cop you see
A Sergeant that walked the streets
In a time when cops just knew
How to enforced a law or two
A soldier in several wars
Americas worth fighting for
Those words I heard him say
When asked about those days
He was a prisoner of the war
But he would not say much more
We knew they tortured him
But they say he never gave in
At home he started hard
Drinking at every bar
But a family he still raised
Thats how it was those days
Then one day he just slowed down
And he put the bottle down
He became the man I knew
And tought me a thing or two
He was married for 50 years
To a woman he loved so dear
Till one day she left his side
To go to a better life
My grandfather was a gentle man
So calm when he held my hand
He gave so much in life
And he taught me how to write
By Carl Joseph Roberts (August 2013)
In
Loving
Memory
And In Honor of Sgt. Harold A. Yates ( Hank)
My grandfather who shared the love of poetry
Christian
Husband
Father
Soldier
Cop
Sergeant
Grandfather
Great Grandfather
This Cross for him
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC
I want to make a groovy movie
Like Sgt. Pepper did
When he was in his younger days
With his Lonely Hearts Club Band
I'll hire a psychedelic painted bus
To film my groovy movie in
Then I'll fill this wonder up
With all my family and my friends
Of course you know I will invite
The Walrus to ride along
And if I play my cards just right
He'll sing for us a song
We'll wear Shiny Silky Suits
And brightly colored Feathered Caps
Patent Leather High Top Boots
All while wearing Animal Masks
We'll play this out to the crowds
As our Paisley bus it passes by
Waving while saying Paul's not dead
As Lucy juggles diamonds in the sky
A day in the life you'll see I'll make that groovy movie
Just like Sgt. Pepper did
When he was in his prime
With his Lonely Hearts Club Band
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
Whats your problem with the way I live?
The story of man is always never ending
me n hastings just dropped some acid
here I go again
like sgt. Peppers I’m just experimenting.
Were lighting up the grass
here comes the world through eyes misunderstanding
But we’re just a generation misunderstood
Occupy all streets *****
this is our revolution
They say its all just evolution
uprising is just a way to stop prostitution
But ya no were all just part of this revolution of evolution
its always in season
the mass media fixation
on the problems of obamas nation.
You kno I say whats your problem with the way I live?
They say get an education
open your eyes to the beauty of a nation
We’re all just problem children
only stuck inside the hate of our lives left broken
So we drink a lot of beer
smoke a lot of ****
I’m not obamas footman
Ya but Were young and that’s our excuse
Don’t be a ******* hypocrite
your just like great britain
Whats to say its not just part of who we are
We’re all ****** up man
why can’t we all see it
I guess you have a problem with the way I live
You kno it doesn’t even exist
so I’m not getting in
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 11:04 AM UTC
I am the walrus walking, with Lucy in the sky with her diamonds, talking about going to Mr. Kites show tonight and then we'd have dinner at the Octopus's garden in the shade with Father MacKenzie. She said that Rocky raccoon was going to be at the show too and I remembered that Lady Madonna will stay for a bit if she earns enough money. I bet you didn't know that Sgt. Pepper's lonely hearts band will be there to play a bit. They are going to arrive in the yellow submarine with the nowhere man. then they are going to strawberry fields to play. I am going to meet up with them tomorrow at Abbey road and then go visit Jojo with them. From there we'd go to play for the Blue meanies and their bulldogs. What a wonderful place Beatle world is, but I have a ticket to ride the Magic mystery bus back to reality. Too bad I can't stay awhile longer!
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 6:43 PM UTC
/ you sure that there's an actual vinyl
revival?
it's stirr-frying my testicles
back in england
and vinyl is on the comeback?!
**** yeah!
i tried interpreting an ancient egyptian
concept of a fanning / ***** police
for days on end...
newspaper? no...
saturday nespaper magazine?
no...
c.d.?!
no...
impromptu napkin
"loophole"?
nope...
vinyl?!
oh **** me!
i own a vinyl sgt. peppers'...
don't really want to listen to it...
but, vinyl, within
the framework of a revival?!
july sunday pants...
you can fan me back and
forth, back and forth that
elongated into circular *******
liquorice...
finally! vinayl has a secondary,
degenerate purpose...
fanning equippment!
spread the air...
unless you're me
lodging a ******** imitation of
a ******** with
ice-cubes dangling in front of a fan:
spreading nothing,
but hot air...
honest to god, in this weather:
the beatles' vinyl?
means as much crock-shit
as i'd really love for a
nefertiti:
"woof"...
or a...
wave of air...
a bellowing bull
with rotten breath...
but at least we found out that
vinyl is useful afterall...
way past the newspaper...
or a pigeon flapping,
or the comment section
that's coorporate...
vinyl?
perfect flapping equipment!
disperses the air...
like sinatra disperses
bad singers...
drunk and...
'opely 'opefully on to "it".
is that like: the dead come (back)...
and then we hit karma redemption
with reincarnation?!
limited contra dough-dough-deep
state affairs?!
new delhi ***
new york?!
no wonder i can't stop laughing
as if that could even be translated into
slavic languages!
you pompous
anglican-integrated-inbred...
****** english women...
you?! you?! you?! you want
to dictate, rules for me?!
****** now i want
to fight your side's resemblance of goliath!
i've petted an alsatian and a dobberman
up to the age of 8...
i think i'll manage...
shit-fisting your granny's egotism
rooting for: ahmed no. 1.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC
Yes you heard me
I hated this toy
I hated it with a passion
That was fastened
To my chest with seat belts
And burned onto my heart
With a hot branding iron
This toy was a teddy bear
One of teddy roosevelt's passions
With a patent owned by a name
I'll never know
Given to kids who are just beginning to grow
So that they have something to talk to
To let everything flow
My brother named him sgt.grizzly
And he was always busy
Telling this little teddy
The secrets of his life
I kid you not
He told this bear his world
He entrusted and unfurled
Everything to this inanimate
Object that couldn't even answer back
By now you're trying to figure out
Exactly why I hate a thing
That I don't even own
Well when that thing sits on the throne
Of a brother you wish you'd known you'll
Understand
Because everytime my brother and I fought
He brought up this stupid teddy bear
And how it did things I did not
How it listened to him
And didn't try to advise him and it sickened me
What disgusted me more than this
Was the fact that he told a toy
More about himself
Than I will ever know in a lifetime
He told it secrets I've been trying to learn
Since the beginning of his time
He gave that toy more of his heart
Than I have ever seen in him within the 13 yrs I've spent with him
And while he threw at me nothing but ****** and pins
He gave this toy an inside look on his many opinions
And while he tested me constantly
He gave his stupid teddy
A degree in justinology
The study of my brother a study in which I wish I wasn't struggling
While my brother threw me worksheets
Sgt grizzly got a free pass
Even though he did nothing in class
Justin let him pass
With an A
While I struggled to hold a D
While i fought hard
He handed grizzly a security card
And as far as I was concerned
All he ever did was put me on blast
I'll admit it I was actually a little jealous
I still am at times
That a stupid toy
Managed to know more about a boy
Who I spent majority of my life living with than me
And honestly it was insulting
Everytime grizzly got lost
I was the first to blame
Just because I was cursing and speaking negatively whenever I spoke that dreaded name
Honestly I have never before admitted
This to anyone
After all being mad at a toy
Isn't the best way for a teenage boy
To be seen but oh boy
I’ve lost the will to keep this in
So I'm simply going to sit down
And write about the hate I have
For this little stupid toy
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
Two strapping squadies sat on a tank
Both just been for a sly ham shank
One called Peter one called Paul
Both rather partial to the others smalls
Along came the Sgt he didn't want to play
Went and told the CO he thought they were gay
Along came the MPs in their red hats
Dragged them to the guard house quick as a flash
Now a court martial and public ridicule
The Sgt said the showers where not safe at all
A dishonerable discharge for being a ***
Being a soldier was all that they had
Twenty years latter we now go to war
You love a man or woman even three or four
The Army doesnt care if you play the rear flank
So long as you can shoot to ****
Or drive a Tommy tank
Well that was then and this is now
Many came back from another gulf war
Hounded like prey by the lawyers of today
For doing exactly what the CO says
So sign up Peter sign up Paul
Do what you like with you best friends smalls
But for heaven's sake be you John or Jane
DON'T SHOOT ANYONE IN THE GOVERNMENTS
NAME!!
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC
I have stood in a thousand formations
and beared witness to the greatest men
who've recieved the greatest honors
I have stood in few formations
where i have cried
tears for my fallen brothers
I have stood at attention
as the casket was loaded
and away they flew
I have flown the heroes
no longer here
and cried every minute
I have rendered a million salutes
but the ones i remember
are for the fallen
With flag draped casket
etched upon my memory
never to see another golden sunset
Lost but never forgotten
the heroes, my brothers, my comrades
for as i breathe you'll never be forgotten
Rest In Peace
Shadow Brethren
SSG Powell And Sgt Silk
May you sleep with angels
on the wings of doves
to the pearly gates at ST. Peters Steps
Nov 26, 2010
Nov 26, 2010 at 10:01 AM UTC
the old tale forgotten, whispers
I imagine.
Slow slow
Cali-ing an imp's pulse, a life's response to my
spondaic plea
Hear me.
Fret not, the game is afoot. Real life
has ridden the wind
to catch us up
we win again
and set us round this flame to teach us
past the games
past the practice
craft has prospered in wisdom's embrace.
taste, and see.
The story on one tongue tastes bitter, while
I always find it sweet.
The blind leader has an old horse
who always makes it
home, I have a promise I follow and
the horse is far behind, keeping pace
with the game afoot,
far behind.
When this tale is told,
may you be the first to tell it true.
--- each line I think ends the trail
--- but I think wrong
the tale and the trail are seeming symish,
here we be in this book of life, whence, if we find our name,
we remain forever.
Can you imagine? In a word realm, we may remain.
The secret is we live. That's the tale I tell.
===
it's all ish or isha, isn't it It, the nameless
missing wished for thing,
the
exact which one,
we all feel we lack.
A touch never felt, but hoped for
through the pain,
oh, the shame.
Yours, the blame.
---- old man not so old
---- all the lies that you were told
---- were told to all since Cain, these are the common chains.
The mission, the quest to bher the blame away in phors o'shame,
while holding all the truth
a word may logically hold ina reasonable realm,
a word realm
whence, in the be
gin or gen ing (on going ing ing ing)
Genius ginning seed from fibers fit t'make threads
fine as spider webs,
watch, chile, watch this bobbin spin and spin and spin
soon be baby sleep in full-on gamma state,
while gran'ma spin the cotton wit' no thought of a wheel.
By and by, we see things beginnin' better, from seed up.
Sgt. Why-kill calls me, from the VA hospital, in MIami,
why you interupptin me , Why-kill? He say
stroke-slow, y'know
I -- a whole next word duration twixt each tongue-lip config
and some repeats due to ram slips
He got it out, said he had to tell you (me) to remember,
All things work together.
Incredulous me, I ask, really, you called to tell me that?
No,
he said
you said you would call, from time to time,
so I figured you forgot. The mission is to live true.
No lie, I replied.
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 3:57 PM UTC
good god a gaggle of girls
read the dispatch thrice; the hierarchical lines some straight and some dotted but all I know they got a genealogical baseball team femi-nine
and maybe an NFL eleven when the twins get older
(husbands and sons ride the motorcycle bench and
back up if necessary, and good for musical accompaniment)
~oh yeah,
for Medusa~
this megillah message team meant for me to assauge my
mother hubbard accusations only partial reveals the player’s names:
but if you google a
gaggle of strong women you become informed there is a:
Queens Esther, Miriam, an Eve, four matriarchal outfielders, Batsheva pitching and only Ruth, can catch her **** curveball
in between an occasional poem gig whose costs are covered
under the mental health clause of a health care plan
but only in
California
too cavalier, get it, you prefer this perhaps
sinewed strength in arms that can
carry three children at once,
age is not a factual issue,
for there is an army of
women soldiers who are a troop contingent,
everyone’s back is covered always-full stop-
they curve like the Earth’s crust,
magma formed strong and mineral rich,
curved to better resist
the comets the heavens cannot resist
to send & test the mettle
of a gaggle of stronger women sinewy arms entwined
reenforced
alas
the grandpa must here resist and rest,
lunch prep before Sgt. Stubby movie at noon,
in reclining chairs they ride like wild horses
and all our shushing noisier than their giggles
just google a gaggle of strong kids,
you’ll see what I mean
in this, we do possess a giggle of expertise
sunday 10:15am
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
there is some
uninvited thing
living in our kitchen
gus the little greycat
waged a hissing yowling
war against it at 3am
to no avail
and now sits as sentry
eyes intent.
as i walk past
his snipers position
at the fridge
desperate for coffee.
i know i will
have to don
rubber gloved armour
and go on a recon mission placing snares and bombs but an army of me
needs coffee
to face the tiny terror
in the tupperware.....
and at least
a few more hours sleep.
.....hold your position
sgt guscat.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Sgt. Jack came back
from overseas
and he didn’t give one.
He’d sit outside his backdoor
for hours popping caps,
swilling cheap beer,
smoking Camels
with his rifle at the ready nearby,
a forty-five in his belt.
He’d yell at his dog constantly,
expecting it to respond
in a friendly manner,
but the rocks
he had thrown at it
over time
had spooked it
into a submissive role.
He never said much,
just stared,
stared with wild blood-shot eyes
that darted to and fro into space.
He’d nervously look at the horizon
as if something was always about to happen.
His favorite line was,
“Lock and loaded, let’s move.”
And when a car would backfire,
he’d scream, “Incoming!”
His wife left him for his best friend,
his kids never came back around,
and his dog died without him moving a muscle.
The ****** thing decomposed
right out in the middle of his backyard.
I guess he was used to
the sweet smell of death.
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
Sometimes,
it was so quiet
walking point
on patrol,
all you could hear
was the
occasional
shooting star,
guitars
screaming
in my head.
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
The censors are in
And the mad houses
Have been unlocked
For the carnival
Friends and former
Lovers embrace your
Bodies and watch the
Clouds billow in the distance
For the background is
Always more beautiful
Then the horrid
Foreground
Not in this hour
But the next there
Will be social
Justice!
There will be a fire
To be put out that
All the masses of the
World can see and
Truly understand and
Articulate!
As of right now,
SGT. BECHER is
Blasting his horn in my
Right ear, causing
Blood hemorages of
Every type and sort
But what of love!
What of pure hate!
What of a human race
Born into INHUMANITY
Legions of snarling dogs
Licking their chops for
The next fix that will COME
But not
SUFFICE
Consumption is a word
No one
Will's to understand
Small has always
Equaled weak
And the born strong
Will never back peddle
In evolution
It just
Isn't
Done
So to abide the wealthy
Warmongers piling
Ammunition on top of
And inside their
Grandmother's brazers!
Is to let them win a
Game they were meant to
Win ANYWAY
Roads were meant to be walked on
Mountains meant to be conquered
But people,
What were we
Meant to do
With
Ourselves?
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 4:44 PM UTC
"Don't fire till you see the whites of their eyes"
He said to me as Zulus came across the drift
What if I keep mine closed I said
Pretend there all at home instead
So what if their eyes are red after a late night out
Or Yellow" jaundiced and unwell
All the thoughts went through his head
As the soldier held his gun up high
As screaming warriors began to die
What if the others shot them all?
So I didn't have to get involved
Sgt Major is rather cross as as he's just been shot in the ***
It's all becoming quite absurd
I watched a film and fell asleep
Mad now I'm there in my dreams
Some solace? If there can be just one
I watched Zulu and not "What dreams may come"....
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
We'd like to think that we could go
Out for an evening and not have to worry
That we are going to end up being
The helpless victim of a gunman's fury.
One would think that mass shootings
In which so many lives are lost
Might compel lawmakers
To stop the killings at any cost.
When so many shootings occur
On American soil year after year,
Don't enough people wonder
What the hell is happening here?
What are people waiting for?
How many more victims will die?
Must we sit by helplessly
While lawmakers turn a blind eye?
Another horrific act of violence
Occurred at the Borderline Bar & Grill
When a solitary gunman
Had one thing on his mind: to ****
Eleven young people gunned down.
An officer shot dead as well.
Only survivors who were present
Can talk about their glimpse of hell.
The killer, too, lost his life
From a wound, possibly self-inflicted.
Some say in retrospect
His actions could have been predicted.
No one can fathom the suffering
Of the victims' parents, families and friends--
Their heartache and anguish from knowing that
Their loved ones met such violent ends.
Just two weeks before Thanksgiving!
This year it will be a chore
To ask the parents staring at empty
Seats what they are thankful for.
A call to action is the only response
To the horror that this nightmare evokes
When twelve innocent victims must
Lose their lives in Thousand Oaks.
Remember the victims:
Sgt. Ron Helus (54)
Sean Adler (48)
Cody Coffman (22)
Blake Dingman (21)
Jake Dunham (21)
Alaina Housley (18)
Daniel Manrique (33)
Justin Meek (23)
Mark Meza (20)
Kristina Morisette (20)
Telemachus Orfanos (27)
Noel Sparks (21)
A mother of one of the victims has said,
"Here are my words. I want gun control.
I don't want prayers. I don't want thoughts."
-by Bob B (11-9-18)
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 10:13 AM UTC
I've never believed.
I mean truly believed.
Not even
when you and I
sat through Sunday school,
but I'll admit
that there are worse things
then the possibility
of getting to see you again.
I'll see you there
if I get to go
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC