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Kamikaze Romance
It’s a kamikaze romance
With our hearts strapped in the seats
And we wage a war called Love
And we’ll not concede defeat
Even if it means flying
In the face of certain doom
We both know the end is coming,
And the end is coming soon…
It’s a kamikaze romance
How sweet the flight, though, while it lasts
Hurtling through the air
Watching heart-shaped clouds zooming past…
Let’s try, love, not to think
Of how this must come to an end
We know it will not last forever
But at least we can pretend…
It’s a kamikaze romance
And when our course starts turning downwards
All the memories of what we had
Will forever be ours
When comes the end; with tears,
With a scream, and with a screech,
Perhaps they’ll find pieces of our broken hearts
Strewn across some glassy beach…
The Gadfly
1.
All gentle folks who owe a grudge
To any living thing
Open your ears and stay your t[r]udge
Whilst I in dudgeon sing.
2.
The Gadfly he hath stung me sore--
O may he ne'er sting you!
But we have many a horrid bore
He may sting black and blue.
3.
Has any here an old grey Mare
With three legs all her store,
O put it to her Buttocks bare
And straight she'll run on four.
4.
Has any here a Lawyer suit
Of 1743,
Take Lawyer's nose and put it to't
And you the end will see.
5.
Is there a Man in Parliament
Dum[b-] founder'd in his speech,
O let his neighbour make a rent
And put one in his breech.
6.
O Lowther how much better thou
Hadst figur'd t'other day
When to the folks thou mad'st a bow
And hadst no more to say.
7.
If lucky Gadfly had but ta'en
His seat * * * * * * * * *
And put thee to a little pain
To save thee from a worse.
8.
Better than Southey it had been,
Better than Mr. D-------,
Better than Wordsworth too, I ween,
Better than Mr. V-------.
9.
Forgive me pray good people all
For deviating so --
In spirit sure I had a call --
And now I on will go.
10.
Has any here a daughter fair
Too fond of reading novels,
Too apt to fall in love with care
And charming Mister Lovels,
11.
O put a Gadfly to that thing
She keeps so white and pert --
I mean the finger for the ring,
And it will breed a wort.
12.
Has any here a pious spouse
Who seven times a day
Scolds as King David pray'd, to chouse
And have her holy way --
13.
O let a Gadfly's little sting
Persuade her sacred tongue
That noises are a common thing,
But that her bell has rung.
14.
And as this is the summon bo
num of all conquering,
I leave 'withouten wordes mo'
The Gadfly's little sting.
poem by John Keats
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Loquacious
this afternoon, i talk a lot, and the more i talk,
the more words flowed from my mouth, the more i become less
of myself,
that is the irony of talking, the more i empty myself of this burden
using words, the lighter i become, the more useless i become of myself,
words and more words,
the more i have of them, the more meaningless my thoughts have become
and they who are listening have become more silent than ever,
i know, their minds are somewhere else, and i know that they know
that there is this spirit in front of them so restless,
wriggling like a worm, jumping like a horse, flapping like a bird
wanting to get rid of something: the fruit wanting to be free from the worm,
the horse from a gadfly, and the bird from the pricking flea....
what else can they say? they must have been saying.
we perfectly understand, we have been there, we were once a fruit
with a worm in our pulp, a horse with a gadfly in our tail,
a bird unable to get rid of the flea....
we were rotten once, we jumped the more, and now we are flying away.
what a life we have, we are never free, and we are never for even once
comfortable with what we are and what we have....
what we do not have of course, is what bothers us the most.
be it a horse, a bird, or a fruit, a flea, a worm, a gadfly of old
like what Socrates once mentioned before he took the fatal poison.
well he died, and here we are always trying to remember.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kamikaze Cappa
Going with company e to the first wave
I moved to get a close up
The first soldier of the opposite party stopped midway
And cried.
Are these the shots youre waiting for?
The shots of blood and pain are the ones youre
Waiting for
The u.s. medal of freedom will never bring back life to the
Death Ive seen
The goal of my life
I would like to be an unemployed war reporter
Pablo picasso
Francois gilot
Hemingway
Hitchcock
Ingrid bergman
Henri matisse
They all knew Im a gambler, corresponding with death
They know that life is white light, slightly out of focus
Kamikaze cappa always on the road
Kamikaze cappa ein bild fr den tod
Kamikaze cappa at the speed of life
Kamikaze driver
Youre the sunset diver
Youre the sunset diver
Walking with a column of french soldiers
In thai ping, indochina
May 25, 1954 at 2:55 pm, robert cappa, born as ernest andre
Friedmann 1913 in hungary, stepped on a mine
The vietnamese lieutenant said le photograph est mort.
song performed by by Falco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Those Who Have Not Read
for those who have not read his work
he reminded them that he is the gadfly
that bit the complicated ass of Plato's cow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Her Father-in-law
He's really an interesting character.
When my kids were small,
he wasn't so happy that I'm talking to them in English,
because English is the language of the enemy.
Goodness, the war was over decades ago!
I felt it's weird.
I grew up listening to my grandparents and parents about how hard life was during the war and how cruel the Japanese soldiers were.
And here are my children listening to their grandfather's stories about his hard training as a kamikaze pilot.
He was recruited towards the end of the war,
and there were hardly any plane to practice on.
Basically, they were taught how to fly, not how to land, because anyway, theirs is a one-way mission.
Akiko said that it was fortunate that the war ended before he was sent to do kamikaze.
He said that it was 'zannen' (regrettable) that Japan lost the war, because he so wanted to see action!
Masanao thinks that his father had not actually been
to the front line and experienced the horrors of actual combat,
so his father clings to an idealist view on why Japan went to war.
Jya ne! So long for now
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The only mystery in life is why the kamikaze pilots wore helmets.
quote by Al McGuire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Salman Rushdie
Intrepid gadfly;
the voice of dissent.
Multiple times stricken,
multiple times resolved.
Though he bleeds,
still the pen that chides never bleeds,
nor is it obliterated.
For three decades and four,
death he evaded,
still, multiple times stricken,
evasive he remains.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (19 August 2022)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Here Comes
Here comes the rationalization
Here comes the song I know
Theres a change of weather coming
Theres a change in me and you
I found some questions to the answers
The dancing flames of romances
Freedom is intoxicating
Its a lizard in your hand
Dont you worry about the future
I need some in my plan
Here comes my kamikaze
Here comes gods top ten
Nothing to be done to stop it
Nothing to get in its way
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kamikaze Teenage Boy - A High School Massacre
His life was built with a self destruct switch
That's been awakened through constant abuse
Every moment is a cage that's been eating him with rage
Words cannot not delay, what doctors call a phase
When he's sick of being looked as a reject from a zoo
And everyone's compassion is introverted bruised
His role on the stage has been of the fool
A knave played puppet, to everyone's strings
But soon the role will be revoked
And his mission will be provoked
Letting him fly in delusions sweet sorrow
When he wipes the slate clean in the classroom tomorrow
No college, career, or girl time play fun
No mortgage hangovers, or warrior weekends
No plans to make copies with his 23 chromosomes
Before he retires from this office managed planet
A mummified nation drove him into permanent cremation
Its vacation from existence; a date with mass extinction
Life is deaths ugly sister when your a kamikaze boy
He's a pilot with a 47. with a mission to seek grief
Adrenaline bombs set of the camel's back
Nuclear propulsion from relationship distortions
Words on the horizon can't express his discontent
When he knows theirs no hands to hold him make his final end
Just a form without substance an obligatory shadow
Tired of swimming in bathtub of other peoples shit.
He's going to go down, while the engines still run.
For this ship was not made to rust to in disgrace
Won't come out an angel, but he'll make a martyrs stand
Judge him in your hallways, no gallows will make me damned
Synopses in a textbook, that's all that's left inside of me
Cut me into a label, and deconstruct this cultures tragedy
He Refuses to oblige the chicken chick method
Of Sally valley incising a private bloody niagra
It's the bushido code of hormonal hubris
Standard Russian issues imported online
Baking with some nitro for an opening act
Next Tuesday at noon will be a bullet feast banquet
If you understood his mind youd understand this is no crime
Look around and what do you see?
A world separated from your sense of being
Trapped in a dimension that's drowning you daily
Some will take your tears rework them for a laugh
And they'll piss in your face, when you make a mistake
But what grinds you the most, and burns you with force
Is how they can go without a morsel of remorse?
Kamikaze teenage boy,
his destinations purgatory
Kamikaze teenage boy,
makes every mother want too cry
Kamikaze teenage boy,
has acne lodged inside his mind
Kamikaze teenage boy,
fly's on pain propelled exhausted rage
He chose the silent valley,
and the fields of selfish glory
through the tail of ballistic fury
Instead of growing from the mud
He turned his manhood with a gun
For he never saw the mourning rays
before he was lit by the final fuse.
poem by Kevin Patrick
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A Softie moves smoothly
It's an early gloomy morning.
And it seems Sun forgets to rise!
The single's door is open.
A black cat mewls on the doorstep
And a gadfly enters and stays for a while.
The next door maiden comes in to give the newspaper.
You can hear a faint cry inside the house
And the penniless old man is no more.
He belongs to the pauper's graveyard
And the funeral is over quietly.
The doleful maiden writes a memorandum.
'At last he left leaving the black cat his will for me.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sonnet 10
I have sought Happiness, but it has been
A lovely rainbow, baffling all pursuit,
And tasted Pleasure, but it was a fruit
More fair of outward hue than sweet within.
Renouncing both, a flake in the ferment
Of battling hosts that conquer or recoil,
There only, chastened by fatigue and toil,
I knew what came the nearest to content.
For there at least my troubled flesh was free
From the gadfly Desire that plagued it so;
Discord and Strife were what I used to know,
Heartaches, deception, murderous jealousy;
By War transported far from all of these,
Amid the clash of arms I was at peace.
poem by Alan Seeger
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At Times
AT TIMEs
it is hard to shift from him to i,
all because there is something too personal
that should not have been
invaded by any
noun, lest things serious becomes
trivialized and
loses face, but there are slips of the tongue
and these so called
unguarded moments of the body
(when the soul is asleep
during the days of your grief)
when the I asserts itself like a kamikaze
on its suicide plane
ranting
and with a black smoke that
catches its ass
glides to earth
and dies
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Soldier of Stance
A fortress of identity
Solid and unbreakable,
In the jungle of deception
Can’t be bulldozed by propaganda
Soldier of stance; Kamikaze
Defend dignity to the last blood
In the battle against biasness
Buried with no tombstone
Alone,
For the sake of identity,
For the sake of the truth
Finally, dies with dignity.
poem by Ibnu Din Assingkiri
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Eternal Silence
Silence
Silence when we are walking,
Silence when we think,
Silence is what fills us all,
With a binding eternal link.
Silence in the little children,
Silence in the adults,
Silence wrapping around us all,
Silence pulsing in the walls.
Silence fills this hollow world,
Silence is the choice we make,
Silence is the death of this all,
Silence is our fate.
poem by Okami Kamikaze
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Auf Wiederseh'n
Au revoir, auf wiedersehen
You won't see another morning
You won't see another evening
Good night
Buenos noches o senor
Senorita see ya later
Buenos noches bye-bye
There are many here among us
You feel that life is a joke
And for you we sing this final song
For you there is no hope
Sayonara oh suicide hari kari
Kamikaze you won't
See another evening
Goodbye
Bye-bye so long, farewell
See you later....suicide
Suicide
Suicide
Suicide
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Auf Wiedersehen
Au revoir, auf wiedersehen
You wont see another morning
You wont see another evening
Good night
Buenos noches o senor
Senorita see ya later
Buenos noches bye-bye
There are many here among us
You feel that life is a joke
And for you we sing this final song
For you there is no hope
Sayonara oh suicide hari kari
Kamikaze you wont
See another evening
Goodbye
Bye-bye so long, farewell
See you later....suicide
Suicide
Suicide
Suicide
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moth To A Flame
(s. kipner/p. bliss)
Here again drawn like a moth to a flame
An invisible force pulling me close to you
I cant break free
Theres some kind of hold over me
Like a magnet, you attract me like steel
Im a kamikaze pilot, its a one-way flight
Getting to you is getting to me
Must be lack of oxygen
Im a do or die fanatic, no rationale
Cause anyone else could tell
You dont stand a snowballs chance in hell
Moth to a flame
A fatal attraction
Im flying too close to the sun
Sooner or later, youre gonna get burned
Moth to a flame
A lethal reaction
Im loving you under the gun
Its just a matter of time before I get
Over my head in your quicksand bed
The more I struggle the more Im sucked in
Here again drawn like a moth to a flame
An invisible force pulling me close to you
Im a kamikaze pilot, its a one-way flight
Getting to you is getting to me
Must be lack of oxygen
Im a do or die fanatic, no rationale
Cause anyone else could tell
You dont stand a snowballs chance in hell
Moth to a flame
A fatal attraction
Im flying too close to the sun
Sooner or later, youre gonna get burned
Moth to a flame
A lethal reaction
Im loving you under the gun
Its just a matter of time before I get burned
Moth to a flame
A fatal attraction
Im flying too close to the sun
Sooner or later, youre gonna get burned
Moth to a flame
A lethal reaction
Im loving you under the gun
Its just a matter of time
Moth to a flame
Missing you in action
Im flying too close to the sun
Sooner or later, youre gonna get burned
Moth to a flame
A lethal reaction
Im loving you under the gun
Its just a matter of time
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Charcoal Night
On a charcoal night the owl calls.
On a charcoal night wolves sharpen their claws.
On a charcoal night children shake with fear.
The charcoal night is growing near.
On a charcoal night the demon dogs sing.
On a charcoal night the little stars gleam.
On a charcoal night the air goes cold.
The nightmares and stories are always told.
On a charcoal night wolves wet their fangs.
On a charcoal night the owls call rang.
On a charcoal night the beasts are out.
On a charcoal night this is their town.
On a charcoal night lock up the doors.
On a charcoal night don't sleep on the floors.
On a charcaol night say good bye to those dear.
Because the charcaol night is finally hear.
poem by Okami Kamikaze
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politics ***** NATIONALISM- THE IDEOLOGY OF ABUSE
unfold the history
human killed human
blood for blood
for nation's sake
territorial integrity
sovereignty
patriotic pride
heroic honor
a legacy down to
generations to generations
for country's name
intuitive freedom
independent from
external will
politically economically
free from stranger's control
Quietly dangerous
if nationalism is being abused,
it creates another
Hitler racism
Kamikaze Japanese fighters
Cambodian Pol pot
Vietnam War
Genghis Khan warriors
outbursting xenophobic state
excluding Muslim Jihad
a holy war for Allah's
name sake
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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