There is no French town in which the wounds inflicted on the battle-field are not bleeding.
quote by Georges Duhamel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wounds
Wounds sustained against wounds inflicted, hurt me.
Wounds inflicted against wounds sustained, sooth me.
Hurt breeds hurt and fight continues
12.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Life And Feeling
like a soldier im in war
my enamy is life and feeling
the hole i dug next to my trench
is where i shall lye my feelings
and lye myself in the end of the battle
i took shots at life and feeling
my whole exsistance
the battle i am loseing
crouched in my trench
as rain, tears and pain are falling
heavily drenching me
my scars lay up my arms
showing where my blades have slit
life and feelin take another effective shot at me
hitting me in the hearts
i am bleeding bad but i wont give up the war
till the enamys are difeated
the wounds are bleeding as so much pain fills me up inside
i am fearless of the battle and fait i may suffer i am alone
with only myself fighting with all my might
i hate to tell myself i am loseing
but i dont know if i can win im dying to quick
poem by Sandy Vanity
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vanquished suppress pain battle pierced
weeping wounds bleed heart profusely
time inflicted sorrow comes hunting haunting
haiku by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Battling of a Nation
The inevitable battle strikes the awesome nation,
We call this town a nation of strength, the battle.
Itself the battle climbs, to put on an action of wounds,
The unavoidable victory is theirs, the defeat even theirs.
The battling may become a studied nation,
The work of bright light, a final lunch and an act of carnage
That belittles us if we were a nation of strong acts.
The battle shall learn more from the defeated,
The vanquished are celebrating an ion and atom,
The defeated are celebrating an awesome molecule.
poem by Naveed Akram
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But the memory of war weighs undiminished upon the people's minds. That is because deeper than material wounds, moral wounds are smarting, inflicted by the so- called peace treaties.
quote by Hjalmar Schacht
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(V – 1990) War & Peace
War has stabbed the heart of peace
And peace lies bleeding now –
A peace which was healing slow
The wounds it had suffered hard,
A peace which was recovering
From the mind blowing blows
Of the decades past!
Now the precious blood of that peace is draining
And each dropp of dripping blood
Is singing the songs of savagery
To the frightened ears of civilizations!
Man mastered bombs but now bombs master man!
Man busy growing the world outside
How poor he forgot to grow his inside!
And now when he stands a helpless child
Before the giant of things he grew
Reason comes again and asks
Was this the progress you built through the years
And man has no answer
He just drops into wounds
Wounds inflicted by bullets of arrogance
Of selfishness, hatred, fear and greed!
Oh, these bombs that preach ‘might is right’
Oh, these merciless bloodthirsty bullets –
What answers are they? What justice makes they?
What battle is real than a battle for peace?
What victory, true, when won at the cost of peace? !
Peace was long destroyed on the minds of men
So no peace now remains outside!
Rising from narrow rooms of thought
Man armed with the mortal arms of passion
Smashes the skulls of his brethren
And when upon the fractured bones
And the boiled flesh, cries of anguish fall
And when the hands and limbs of innocents
Lie eaten and bitten by vultures of violence
Their hearts cracking into a fury of pain
And when thick clouds of smoke
Of the smoke of life, rises from the graveyards of war
A tear comes into the eyes of man and time asks:
Hasn’t History taught you anything still?
And man stands dumb!
With all his will and wisdom paralyzed
He searches for peace, for the solace of peace
But peace lies writhing there!
He knows he wants it dearly
The company of peace,
Wounded though he be!
But peace is dying there;
But peace is not dead!
His life lies in our hands
The wounds are many
But many more can be spared!
The wounds are sore
But they can be medicined still!
War is death
But war can be killed!
Wounded
Lost and broken
Hopeless and lonely
Smiling on the outside
But hurt beneith my skin
My eyes are fading
My soul is bleeding
I'll try to make it seem ok
But my faith is wearing thin
So help me heal these wounds
They've been open for way too long
Help me fill this soul
Even though this is not your fault
That i'm open
That i'm bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And i need some one to help me sow them up
I only wanted a magazine
I only wanted a movie screen
I only wanted the life i'd read about and dreamed
And now my mind is an open book
And now my heart is an open wound
And now my life is an open soul for all to see
But help me heal these wounds
They've been open for way too long
Help me fill this soul
Even though this is not your fault
That i'm open
And i'm bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And i need some one to help me
So you come along
I push you away
Then kick and scream for you to stay
Cuz i need some one to help me
Oh i need some one to help me
To help me help these wounds
They've been open for way too long
Help me fill this soul
Even though this is not your fault
That i'm open
And i'm bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And i need some one to help me sow them
I need some one to help me fill them
I need some one to help me close them up
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Freedom Of The Soul
Am I not supposed to be singing emancipation?
Am I not supposed to be dancing in elation?
Am I not supposed to be jumping in rejuvenation?
How can I sing when my heart is bleeding?
It is not the wounds of yesterday
It is not the wounds of the past
It is the wounds of today
My heart is bleeding
As they sing free at last
As they jump in emancipation
As they sigh a sigh of relief
But my heart is bleeding
For they sing freedom when they are not free
How is freedom freedom if your soul is in bounds?
How is freedom freedom if your spirit is still in chains?
The freedom of the soul is greater than the freedom of the flesh
We have not been freed from the oppression of sin
The inward oppression is worse than the outward oppression
We are oppressed by sin and depressed by its consequences
Unless a man repents from sin he shall remain inbounds!
poem by Philani Zincume
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Intentional
No matter what may be done or said,
When that action in time takes place...
Someone will feel left out instead.
Not because of the action,
Done or said.
But how it was related when instigated.
Whoever made it fun for one,
To berate another with a blurting tongue...
The day will come,
When a similar deed is repeated.
With a singing of a song sung,
Or a tune heard hummed.
With no exit to ignore it to escape or leave,
The perpetrator remembered...
Will then be seeking empathy.
That no one with heart and soul intact,
Will care to release to relieve.
To set one free from memories.
This Earth is not flat,
It looks as if round.
And rotates on an axis,
To return to a place of origin always found.
And that is a fact when one sits to think,
Of those thoughts trapped to sit cemented...
In intentional inequities inflicted to sting and meant!
Inflicted to sting and meant!
What goes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Comes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
What goes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Comes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
It is all quite intentional.
'Never accuse me again,
Of not having substance! '
Inflicted to sting and meant!
'Never...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Accuse...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Me...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Again! '
Inflicted to sting and meant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It was announced as a French victory by the French Minister of War. I did not see any sign of victory but only the retreat of the French forces engaged in the battle.
quote by Philip Gibbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hidden Track
Lost and Broken
Hopeless and Lonely
Smilin' on the outside
But hurt beneath my skin
My eyes are fading
My soul is bleeding
I try to make it seem okay
But my faith is wearing thin
So help me heal these wounds
They've been openfor way too long
Help me fill this hole
Even though this is not your fault
That I'm open
And I'm bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me sew them up.
I only wanted a magazine
I only wanted a movie screen
I only wanted the life I'd read about and dreamed
But now my mind is an open book
And now my heart is an open wound
And now life is an open soul for all to see
But help me heal these wounds
They've been open for way too long
Help me fill this hole
Even though this is not your fault
That I'm open
And I'm bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me
So you come along
I push you away
Then kick scream for you to stay
Cause I need someone to help me
Oh I need someone to help me
To help me heal these wounds
They've been open for way too long
To help me fill this hole
Even though it is not your fault
That I'm open
And I'm bleedin
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me sew them
I need someone to help me fill them
I need someone to help me close them up
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time Heals
If youre bleeding,
Then everyone can see youre bleeding
They can call for the doctor,
Wholl provide what the diagnosis says youre needing
Then hell take away your pain
But if your heart,
Your heart has been broken
And you dont wear it on your sleeve
No one can tell,
Your hell goes unspoken
But theres one thing you must believe
Time heals the wounds no one can see
Time heals the wounds that no one can see
If youre crying
Then everyone can see you crying
And they all sympathize
But it just doesnt matter
Though they may be trying,
They cant feel the hurt inside
You cant go on,
Youve gone to the limit
And your life seems to slip away
Youre on your own
Alone you must face it
And tomorrows so far away
You got to hold on baby
Got to give it time to heal
Time heals the wounds that no one can see
You must believe what they say is true
It dos wonders for ya, yeah, yeah
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Into The Wilderness
Always there will be those,
Going out of their way as if chosen...
To inflict their wicked misdeeds upon others.
Only to arrive with feelings they discover,
Has left them to grieve wishing forgiveness.
Knowing...
Time has not come to heal their wounds.
And those who have been picked to be inflicted,
With wounds...know this.
Even attempts made trying to hide them,
Still sit not to be forgotten.
And the repeated visits with bitterness,
Sometimes may take them on long drives...
To 'trip' into the wilderness just to cry...alone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All honor's wounds are self-inflicted.
quote by Andrew Carnegie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Without Questioning The Appeal Of Ideals
'Offer to throw to them money!
It heals all wounds inflicted.
And will erase all agony,
From their memories claimed...
To be tied to their histories.'
There are certain aspects of life,
That are inevitable.
Without questioning the appeal of ideals.
Or the truth as it exists.
Pain and pleasure are feelings felt.
It is true we all are dealt cards from a deck,
Whether or not the hand we get is accepted.
And...
Without questioning the appeal of ideals.
Although intuitively pain is rejected.
For most of us it is pleasure that is the objective.
Yet there are those who believe,
They have been chosen to receive most of it...
While denying others to get a taste,
The freedom of opportunity makes.
'Let them eat cake.
IF they can locate the baker.
Or...
Better yet.
Offer to throw to thwem money!
It heals all wounds inflicted.
That promises to quiet their wishes.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Letting In
letting in light
i set aside the curtain
and tie it beside
the wall
i open the window
look outside
and decide to stay
there is no walk
that is too appeasing
my heart is bleeding
i am staying to lick
the wounds
like a lion losing its
recent battle
i have a shadow
and i am looking at it
haunted by its
contours
i am reflecting where
the opening is
there must be an
exit somewhere
like light entering
a slit in darkness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In France They Say Only Pianists Are Shot
I saw there in the field
Far away from town
The people were killed
I saw the horses in the dust
I saw there in the filed
Far away from town
They whipped the plants
I heard the shots in an empty distance
I saw there in the field
Far away from town
Saw people trembling
Shivering with fear
I heard them whispering
‘In France, they say, only pianists are shot.’
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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