steven cooke, 6 june 2013
Soldiers Thoughts
(World War One)
Memory is our contribution to life
and sleep the eternal dream.
This voice of youth has one last breath
and we give it to you.
My comrade’s corpse will be forgotten
like the ash from generals cigar.
Our blood will pour to fill their ambitions,
So sweet is the vintage they consume
at Christ’s table this night.
The claret of soldier boys
will oil the guns this day,
and prayers will be sent
In the glory of our annihilation.
The lines on the map grow restless.
The horses all know their fate,
for the rot of progress is in the air.
Our preachers gather their crosses,
we fight in the name of God.
But who does God fight for?
Is mercy beyond his gaze?
Was this his plan?
To create the widows vale
that descends upon the son of man.
Is a soldier to see the face of God?
Through eyes that burn in a yellow mist
breathed on by fallen angels.
Whose kiss causes him to gurgle
for fear he tells the truth.
Tells the truth,
to the last believer on earth.
Futility rules this slaughter,
we are the waste of nature.
Men and boys are but leaves
ordained to fall in the winds of war.
There is no sanctuary from the guns
that spew their rain of death.
It digests us all.
Sins and good deeds forgotten.
In retribution they take vengeance
on we, the poor souls below.
There is no dignity to be found here,
Only death in corrupted mud.
Life is the enemy
and reason the sword.
We are a disposable commodity,
and this land will feast upon us.
Mothers of England
let your children play.
For tomorrow they will come
to make angels on earth.
This generation will haunt the sky.
Sculptured in the storm clouds that gather
and you will see your son.
For that is where your boy resides.
Free from the sins of man,
free from the fear of war.
And your tears will remember him,
“Jack “, who was, your little boy.
Dean, 6 june 2013
Woman Of My Dream(Sigh)
I lost You
When You mean The World To Me
I Lost You
When The Road Seems Tough & Rough
I Lost You
Cus Am Too Shy To Tell YOu How I Really About YOu
I Lost You
Cus My Sense Of Humor Makes You Think I Aint Serious...(Exhale)
Woman Of My Dream
Wish I Can Take All these Back
And Show You How Truly Sorry I Am...
Woman Of My Dream
Wish I Could Turn Back The Hands Of Time
Then You Will Be mine Now
Woman Of My Dream
I Just Cant Bear The Truth
That I've Lost You
While Am Here Suffering
When Everyday I Wish You Are Mine
Now My Heart Bleed
Now My Heart Ache
Damn I Say My Heart Cries All Night Just To Feel Your Wamrth Touch
Woman Of My Dream...
Gert Strydom, 6 june 2013
I have often wondered about the men that lead the world
I have often wondered about grasping men,
I have wondered about the way that the world goes
under the people that were elected to lead the way
and about their desire for fortune and fame,
about Presidents that do not waver to tell a lie,
about leaders that sent soldiers off to war
and wondered if they do consider the consequences
or is there something evil that besets each great good man
a corruption that power does always bring?
Gert Strydom, 6 june 2013
We live in a world where war, disasters and destruction
are continually harassing us as if destiny is pursuing us,
as if everything in this world is out of control,
as if the portals of hell are standing wide open
and sometimes we become ill without any chance of being healed
and sometimes we loose loved ones to death
and it feels as if we are living on the edge of the abyss
but still the hope remains that life will become better,
that deliverance will come with the new tomorrow
as if a happier future is only waiting on us.
Satish Verma, 6 june 2013
Throw yourself on a time bomb
howling, breaking the words,
twisting the letters, reciting a prayer
after the rise of a monomania in the
face of mankind.
I am becoming poorer everyday
by grace of filth all around. Cannot hear
myself now in the marching band of curses
and abuse; a scion hides a fawn from
the eyes of wild bulls.
A hierarchy of buried skeletons, spineless
dinosaurs lying under the shadows of technicolor
maps and letting freeze the time. The music
was lapped by passersby. The world
was moving in circle.
Satish Verma
Renato N. Mascardo, 5 june 2013
Mnemosyne’s child
the long downpour that
never ends obscures my view
the foggy greyness
the misty coldness of the day
remain since you went away
in lieu of your memory-haunting face
the shade of emptiness now fills the space
mnemon upon mnemon loosens
untangles and drops like one yellowed leaf
after another in the spiraling apoptosis of fall
words no longer linger once you left
like memory’s child with a new toy
words do not stick together
so slippery they can not intertwist
leaving me in the void alone and bereft
with every loss there must be a gain
without your company
your warm nearness being gone
one feels the loss that is so obvious
it is so much harder to find the gain//
renato
tuesday 04 june 2013
Gert Strydom, 5 june 2013
I wanted to find more in what love is,
and its depths I wanted to know as truth
while maybe like a child I did trust
that its part of a real experience
of witch you sometimes miss all of the parts
but something really essential of it still does remain.
I wanted to find more,
I wanted to have something more than just meaning
and then so suddenly and unexpected I did find you,
when I looked at eyes that unblemished caught mine
and now I know much more than only knowledge,
I wanted to find more…
Gert Strydom, 5 june 2013
When your hand folded around mine you did smile
and I saw the depths of your soul
as you caught the profile of my face,
and your skin was soft while you were so very near,
while the essence of my heart was very happy,
and I speak to the Lord of you when later I did kneel down.
When your hand folded around mine
all of my own emotions did betray me,
as I felt age-old like a fossil,
and I wondered if falling in love did inspire you
to take my hand in the church,
when your hand folded around mine
Gert Strydom, 5 june 2013
The ocean was clear as cobalt blue glass
while we swam far out in the greater key,
playing in the warm pleasurable sea,
some colourful small lonely fishes did pass
and no nasty predators did harass
while we both were very happy and free.
The ocean was clear,
some fish swam slowly in a schooled mass
while the small waves rocked only gently,
you teased, played and smiled with me,
there was nothing that did us embarrass,
the ocean was clear…
patty turner, 4 june 2013
She was walking in a path of cherry tree's
The moon hits the tree's with it's redlight.
On the top of the hill,
Their is an old cherry tree.
She sees a young man.
He was holding some rope in his hands,
He slowly and greacefully put it around his neck.
he kick the box underneath him.
With the cherry blossoms in the wind,
With the red moon shining bright,
With the cool spring air.
She screamed,
but...
when she got there,
no one was their.
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