Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a landmine. The landmine is me. After the explosion, I spent the rest of the day putting the pieces together.
quote by Ray Bradbury
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Stepping on Landmine
Sad day to a sad face
I waited for this day to come
Not for me to be sad
The opposite is what I wished for
I thought I would rejoice upon the shining light of this day
Only to find myself in tears and sad thoughts
These sad thoughts felt like stepping on landmine
I have been talking to this girl for a long time
I befriended her thinking my wishes would come into reality one day
She was all I wanted in a girl
Her everything made me happy
I gathered some courage thinking it would work out
Unfortunately, she said 'NO' reasoning that I was like a brother to her
These words were as bad as stepping on landmine
I am not his brother anyway
The fact that I am 'like' his brother
Means I am not a brother to her
I tried to convince her but it yielded nothing
May be it was my fault letting her think I act like a brother to her
What else could I do?
I stepped on landmine
It hurts me so much
May be one day she will realize that I act like her brother
Because I care so much
poem by Josephine Chifundo Likoya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Landmine
Well there ain't much entertainment
In a town this size at all
So I've got myself up, dressed for this arraignment
Cause I don't think I'm ready for the fall
Now I find my thoughts deep in this room all by myself
Thinking the moon might just explode if I don't leave
And the more I wait
It seems the more I hate
This town for what it's doing to me
This is when I need you most of all
Then I stepped upon a landmine
And I saw my future rise
I'm getting to know you
Between the lines
I dropped down to about one foot two
Hoping to get more looks for you
But it never made much difference in your eyes
And I suppose that I couldn't help things much
To set this day in a whirlwind rush
After finding out the backseat changed our lives
Then I stepped upon a landmine
And I saw my future rise
I'm getting to know you
Between the lines
Between the lines
It's 5am and if I run
I am sure to pay for what I've done
And if I say I'm sure I wish I ran
And though I knew this day would come
I never thought that I would run
For someone who was blind to me
You're as blind to me as you could be
Na na nana na
Na na nana na
Na na nana na
Yeah
Then I stepped upon a landmine
And I saw my future rise
I'm getting to know myself
Between the lines
Between the lines
song performed by by Train
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To the crew of a shot-out Ratel of 61 Mechanised Bn Grp (rondine)
What escape remains when you are trapped
by enemy landmine after landmine,
from the incoming shell’s wailing whine;
when boys, some just children are snapped,
in the flash when a armoured car is scrapped,
even if your bravery does holy shine;
what escape remains?
What little remains when thunder-clapped
of what someone could as a life define
when by law military service did confine
young men, whose lives death had overlapped;
what escape remains?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As a footballer I can't imagine life without the use of one of my legs... Sadly this is exactly what happens to thousands of children every year when they accidentally step on a landmine.
quote by Ryan Giggs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butterfly
A caterpillar had the feeling
That change was coming
That time was stealing.
To embrace the metamorphosis
It wove a cocoon around its chest
And choose our wall to take its rest.
The young are thoughtless, often cruel
And I was no exception.
I would have destroyed it but
for Frankie’s intervention.
Frankie lived in the corner house
He was older and quite wise.
He taught me that this green cocoon
would change into a butterfly.
He bade me watch, he had me wait
to see the wonder taking shape.
We saw the Monarch first take wing
once caterpillar, now a King.
Several summers passed us by.
I still lived but Frankie died-
He was just eighteen, Young and brave
A landmine put him in his grave.
He died just before Saigon’s fall
His name’s inscribed upon the Wall
Corporal Frank Evangelista Junior,
beloved by mother and mourned by sister.
A terrible loss when Frankie died-
He might have been a butterfly.
(The incident with the Butterfly happened in 1960. Lance Corporal Frank Paul Evangelista jr.USMC died during the Vietnam war when a landmine blew up his jeep. I recall he died in March of 1969, but I altered the time lines slightly(using my poetic license) .. Had he emerged from the experience of war, he may have proved to be a great man.)
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jump Jump
Wearing stripes, arms up high, as tall as can be,
Nothing more than a frozen smile to see.
In the cage hell defy all thats logical.
Under lights, stay up all night with his formula.
In the grip in the step of potential rage.
Oh its hip, formulated to fascinate.
If you do it like this: jump! jump!
Do it like this: jump! jump!
She moves faster than any eye can see,
Moving parts that arent moved normally.
In the haze what it isnt is what you see.
On and off, up and down, like a yo yo string.
Try to do it like this: jump! jump!
No, no, like this: jump! jump!
Do it for a kiss: jump! jump!
Do it like this: jump! jump!
They shine, we shield our eyes to see what is the dazzling and the enchanted.
They whine come closer to me.
That is the dizzying, the dancing sorcery.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Whoa whoa, my little doggie, he does a trick.
Ruff ruff!
He went to school to learn how to sit.
We were excited, delighted having fun.
As we decended the exit, got off the bus,
We got friends, we got fans now, and this is proof.
Can you tell me why that guy is on the roof?
Oh ho, do it like this: jump! jump!
Try it like this: jump! jump!
Do it more like this: jump! jump!
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pelican Brief
a black page in journal of dire seas
fresh crude sludge landmine landmark
flowing oil seals fate of myriad lives
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To true heroes
Under heavy fire from the enemy
into the landmine field they went,
two men went into that deadly place
to extract a lost tank,
and in they went again
to bring back
a wounded man.
Sometimes officers lead the way
scorning death in facing the enemy
and true heroes were they both.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The parade
I remember us passing
in a parade
where we were receiving honour;
the nightmare plays off in front of me
of people
that will never again be living
and are unpaid for their deeds:
What remains
when a mortar bomb falls like thunder
from the sky
and explodes with a hell of a bang,
how broken a body becomes
when it receives the deadly explosion
of a landmine
that does its thing like a giant trap,
the bits of ash
where a flaming star lands
when a rocket propelled grenade goes off,
scorched black meat
where a tank’s projectile
hits like a ray of lightning,
a man that had been shot out of his boots
where a bullet pierced his body
and the puddle of blood in which he lies,
the shattering and the truncation
that a hand grenade brings,
how easy death strikes at anyone
and all of these people
now are forgotten and buried
until they stand before the Godly commander.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why?
If I could paint
I would paint a portrait
of a shot out Ratel armoured car
standing in a landmine field.
Out of which the smoke still rises
And I would print in defencelessness
with every brush stroke
of armoured steel failing
against projectiles
and then becoming a coffin
and enemy soldiers standing grinning
with teeth brilliant white
and bones of fallen comrades
that tried to stop a horde of barbarians
and hyenas and jackals standing drooling
and vultures turning in the sky
and in the background till the horizon
enemy tanks, armoured cars
and men would lay shot to pieces
with pools of blood, intestines
and shot of legs and hands
and the title would be: Why?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Jump Ahead Of The Storm
Lightnings flashing all around me,
Thunders rolling up behind.
Big blue clouds are going to roll in
Full of tears and make me blind.
I cant let her man recatch me.
I cant stop to cry no more.
Im just running down the highway,
One jump ahead of the storm.
One jump ahead of her crying,
One jump ahead of her cold cheating arm.
One jump ahead of her lying,
One jump ahead of the storm.
One day I looked on the horizon,
Saw her love just couldnt last.
Oh, my mind was torn to pieces.
I had to leave and get out fast.
And so I slipped out of her power.
I saw my chance and I was gone
Before the rain could start to falling.
One jump ahead of the storm.
Chorus
I was one jump ahead of the storm.
Just one jump ahead of the storm.
I was one jump ahead of the storm.
Just one jump ahead of the storm.
I was one jump ahead of the storm.
Just one jump ahead of the storm.
I was one jump ahead of the storm.
Just one jump ahead of the storm.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can only rest in peace with all pieces of my heart joined!
No barriers can separate hearts,
no grave is deep enough to bury feelings,
revolving billion times for billion years,
round and round around galaxies,
in that grand explosion of star,
pieces of my heart spread on earth!
Finding those on this green planet,
I descended,
hoping to pick pieces of my heart,
finding myself and collecting pieces,
o soul-mates, without you I am helpless,
with hope and faith I live here!
Neither born nor die i may be,
without collecting pieces of heart,
those pieces stuck in friends hearts,
their thoughts are mine own!
Can I stay here long, not my home,
it is their love that brought me here,
someday I rest in peace when only
all pieces of my heart joined together
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Landmine
When the Buffel troop-carrier detonates a landmine
we see dark dots moving in the bush
and I break loose with the light machinegun
that the empty burning-hot caps hit against me
and as long as there is movement
on the other side of the dry riverbed
our fire is drawn
until everything is motionless.
With the smell of gunpowder hanging around us,
a skimpy goat-herdsman
crawls out from behind a giant ant hill
and cries about his dead goats.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One night I dream
One night I dream
about ratel armoured cars
that looks different
and are almost as impenetrable
as American tanks
and can shoot accurately further
than G-6 howitzers while moving
and can drive right through
landmine fields
and we are fighting
in a enemy territory
There are enemy weapons
burning everywhere
and their aeroplanes
are grounded in rows
and when we win
I have already for a time
being wishing for it to end
as I am fed up with war,
killing and people that suffer
but this dream
and many others
that really happened
stays with me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why do you hesitate.
He had one eye, one arm, one leg
a landmine had removed the rest
he does not whinge or whine or beg.
His attitude is best expressed.
I’m still a man and I can do
almost as much as any guy.
A little slower that is true
but I can see no reason why.
You feel you have to pity me
I would much rather earn respect
Though not the man I used to be
I can do more than you expect.
Give me chance and I’ll show you
I still have skills which I can use
to do as well as others do.
Why hesitate what can you lose?
I draw the pension I am due
but need to boost my self esteem.
Prove to the world that I can do
much more than sit at home and dream.
Give me the opportunity
to demonstrate what I can do.
Ignore my disability
if I can do it so can you.
Just set your prejudice aside
and treat me as a normal guy
Give me a chance and then decide
to keep me on or say goodbye..
Why do employers constantly
turn down disabled veterans.
Are they so blind they cannot see
that veterans deserve a chance.
25-Apr-08
http: //blog.myspace.com./poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jump For Joy
Key:-
A - anita
R - ray
A: chrous
I wanna scream
I wanna jump for joy, and I want everyone to know!
I wanna scream
I wanna jump for joy, and I gotta let the whole world know!
R: jump for joy
Jump for joy
Jump for joy
Jump for joy
A: everybody jump jump
Jump for joy
Everybody jump jump
Everybody jump jump
Jump for joy!
A: chrous
R: I wanna jump for joy, j-o-y
cause cupid shot your arrow in the sky
You know the feeling, jumping and screaming
Here come the angels marked by demons
You must be dreaming, your heart is steaming
Forget the pain and start believing
Peace and love surrounding earth
Respect to my mum who gave me birth
Butterflies are moving fast
Is this the last love look of last
Heavier as ever, rhymes quite clever
Respect to the world, its time for whatever
Stimilate the feeling you got inside
Hold me down so we can take a ride
Hoaw my month for you to enjoy
Wave your hands in the air and jump for joy
A: chrous
R: jump for joy, jump for joy
Jump for joy, jump for joy
Jump for joy!
I wanna jump for joy, jump for joy
A: everybody jump jump
Everybody jump jump
Jump for joy
Everybody jump jump
Jump for joy
A: chrous
A: chrous
R: jump for joy
Jump for joy
Jump for joy
Jump for joy
R:repeat and fade
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cab Drivers Confessions
And in the light
of dying day
your voice grew
strong
and boastful
as you showed me
your
celluloid past
pointing them out
One by One
telling me names
and dirty deeds done
and secrets shared
of
severed heads
landmine limbs
in treetops
and dried human ear
in key-ring
We raised our cups of whiskey
to abject adolescent atrocities
and
to you making it
out alive
when so many
armed lives for hire
hadn't
I took one
last long look
A group of grinning
boys in fatigues
posing
with guns
for the camera
who ALL
came back as
different
men
poem by Carsten Thomsen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My buddies (a reply to Boris Slutsky)
All young white men at a time
was forced into the military, into war
or had to serve a three year jail term
and most of my buddies came home,
but some did not:
Parachuting into a enemy camp
there was one close friend that died,
the other three I hardly knew
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
seven hundred and fifty
enemy SWAPO and Cuban casualties
and on one patrol one close buddy
stepped on a landmine
were blown up and no one else was hurt,
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
the enemy that had lost
little lest than a full platoon.
In Angola when we met enemy armour,
turned FAPLA / Cuban divisions
under Soviet leadership into junk
I saw a Ratel armoured car
that was trapped in a landmine field
that had been shot out
with the holes
were enemy tank projectiles went in
and every one inside was burnt, incinerated
if not blown to bits, turned into ash
and it had been only one of eleven
armoured cars
and troop carriers that was lost
some of only thirty-one soldiers dead
but there was pain that flashed through me
when I saw it
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
four thousand seven hundred and eighty five killed
on the Cuban/FAPLAN side,94 tanks
and hundreds of enemy combat vehicles destroyed
and now no one thinks
of the sacrifice that all of these soldiers made,
of the hundreds of thousands
of returning citizen force soldiers
who were nuts, bomb happy
with post traumatic stress syndrome
or whatever you want to call it
as to the government it is
an incidental small thing,
that happened in a distant past
as if the ex-soldiers are non-existing,
even seen as apartheid criminals by some.
[References: Buddies here used as name used in the South African Defence Force for comrades. Ex-soldiers here used instead of war veterans, as in African circles the word war veterans has got a new derogatory meaning connected to it. My Comrades by Boris Slutsky.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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A brush with death
Gliding out of my boot you came
and I stood thunderstruck as if lame
while you slithered out
pitch black with ridged scales
and light rings around your neck
and I waited for you to strike
facing death with white gleaming fangs,
seeing you uncoil and hypnotized
rather by common sense than fear,
seeing your forked tongue
testing the air
and the hair on my bare arms rise.
Any movement would make you strike
or spit or both in quick succession
and I waited there
while you sailed away
and sometimes cursing
and blessing that day
as you kept me
from stepping on a landmine
which I spotted gleaming
where you brushed some sand away.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The bad lands
Nowhere in the bush
where lions, leopard,
crocodiles, hippos
and snakes dwelt
felt really bad to me.
On patrol at times
a hidden landmine,
a booby-trapped corpse
could shatter you
with a thousand
hell hot pieces of steel
and still skill, tenacity
and knowledge kept me safe.
Even in Angola facing enemy armour
where shells swished past,
Ratel armoured cars were trapped
and shot out
and the enemy
hatched in steel caskets
that were armoured cars
and tanks at a time,
where hyena, jackal
and vultures ripped through bodies
of shot, sliced, ripped Cuban
and Fapla soldiers
we overcame
and although the cruelty of war
and lost of human live
gripped me
and the smell penetrated
up into my soul,
the ground stayed pure
and African
as if we did belong.
Yet when I visit that little hill
(in Natal)
where Dingaan misled Piet Retief
and had him
and his companions slaughtered
and fed their bodies
to the birds, the wind, the sun
their spilled blood is still glowing
as if radioactive
and that place
feels really evil to me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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