Commentary On War
War is an act perpetrated on our youth,
the ones who don't know better.
They have not lived long enough
to cry and mourn
or see lives torn
because they've not learned the truth.
It's been closed to their eyes
so they won't realize
they are fighting the rich man's war.
They're in the front lines
where the blood runs cold.
Most are the young that will never see old.
The ones riding high who don't seem to die
are the green eyed monsters that hide.
Their mouthpieces speak as rulers of the lands
because their hands are tied
with puppet strings
from monsters in the wings
whose souls have long ago died.
And so when I hear WE are fighting a war
I cry for our youth who are the we.
For they most probably will not see
what the war they fought was for?
It was all for naught.
They had never been taught
that peace can't come from a gun.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Related quotes
Green Eyed Monster
Whos that creeping out of my back door
Dont say hes collecting for the poor
Dont you tell me youre not having fun
The green eyed monsters got me on the run
Phones keep ringing but theres no one there
You never told me why you changed your hair
Someone elses lotion on my side of the mattress
Green eyed monsters got me by the niagras
Dont think Im mad, its paranoia
(I want what you got)
Im sad, youre glad
(I want what you got)
Im hungry for your love
Say the word, give me fever
(you got what I need)
Keep those goodies for me
Midnight shopping is a funny thing
But Im not laughing, you dont wear your ring
You spend a fortune but your cupboards bare
The green eyed monsters got his home in there
Somethings cooking at the laundromat
Dirty washing, Im not having that
Fifteen visits and my threads are bare
The green eyed monster leaves me in despair
Dont think Im mad, its paranoia
(I want what you got)
Im sad, youre glad
(I want what you got)
Hungry for your love
You say, the word, give me fever
(you got what I need)
Keep that something for me
What the hell is happening here
The more I get to know
I find out how much I dont know
Who can I turn to now
When everything I touch
And everything I see
Seems to crumble into dust
You put the evil eye on me
Green eyed monsters driving me insane
And jealous lovers play a deadly game
My fire is burning but youre as cold as ice
The green eyed monster throws a loaded dice
Whos that creeping out of my back door
Dont say hes collecting for the poor
Dont you tell me youre not having fun
The green eyed monsters got me on the run
The green eyed monsters got me on the run
The green eyed monsters got me on the run
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dark Knight Comes Too Pass
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
From a mere boy
Being raised by the wolves
Living in the darkness for just too long
Something just went so wrong
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
Was it a death so desperately
Forever in misery
A loves tragedy
Is always so sad to see
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
The not so dead family
A murder held with in their arms
With no recourse
With no remorse
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
He's the alternate ending
As the light comes to pass
Shadows lurk
They shouldn't be disturbed
Let them rest in peace
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
Festered hate fills his eyes
As he is victimized
By those desecrated his loves ones grave
Becoming of the nightly terrors
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Twas Called Destiny
Day after day of our depart
Felt like souls were so apart
torn the bleeding of gloomy heart
'twas none false rather an art
Lie mine glimpse of her and thoughts
'twas not blue but evergreen
thus I realize 'twas thy-naught
mine dearest, Dulcinea, Queen
I-naught God to change that part
Our lives' novel yet to start
Sought mine princess, eye's of mine darling
evergreen, yet blood & immortal beating
Mine notorious canvas painted smile
barely truth, yet never a wile
the actress shalt never be the character
The beating's integration'll never dissever
As long as hands weren't held to hands
you'd hear my cry in thine dream lands
My beseech'Hey juliet! wanna be thine romeo! '
Listen close, for 'twas beating like stereo
Blind, I'm stepping my way to thee
Shoe by shoe, to my dream come true
Again if vision meet, 'twas no serendipity
'twasn't just fortunate, it's our destiny.
poem by Ellirie Aviles
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The King [ I ]
AMONG the sons of Englishmen
Full many feel like real tears,
For, though he reigned but scarcely ten,
He bore the burden many years.
He lived the dead past doubly down,
He shamed, by manliness and truth,
The lies that beat about a crown,
And round a known man in his youth.
For he had lived as men have done
Since Adam’s time, to prove them true.
He proved it in his manhood’s prime,
And to the end, as strong men do.
And so he died, and, ever since,
And on through years the words shall ring:
“He lived a man, he lived a prince,
And died a gentleman and King.”
Unto the friends of his hot youth,
In his wise age, he still was true.
He showed, by steadfastness and truth,
What kings as well as men can do;
Till all was manlike or forgot,
Long years ere he found his release;
He made them loyal who were not,
He won respect, and kept the peace.
poem by Henry Lawson
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As Long As
As long as the sun shines bright above, Nothing, yet no one will be able to hide the light,
As the darkest stormy night does,
As long as I can laugh no one will be able to make my eyes cry,
As long as I have the sight to look to the light,
No one can ban my eyes enjoying the beauty of the light,
As long as I believe in greatness of my God,
I'll always get a white wings to fly high,
Nothing yet no one can take away my pride,
As long as I can talk and have the strength and the courage to say not, and don't and stop,
The hands of cruelty can not make me stop praying,
As long as I have the mercy of the God in my heart,
Never will come the time yet no one ever can convince me to look down on someone,
Rich he is or a beggar, an old one or a young,
The black or the white one,
There's no differences among us
Just the beauty of the souls, and purity of desires
Should be the reasons to bring us together
We all are one,
We are the creation of the God.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Nobody ever.....
In his youth, his callow empty youth
his eyes were misty.
He learnt about sex from Cindy,
but nobody ever, no, nobody ever,
taught him how to love.
In his youth, his callow empty youth
his pockets were full.
He drank, he smoked, he learned to use a gun
but they never, no, nobody ever
taught him how to have fun.
In his youth, his callow empty youth
his wits were sharp.
He learnt to duck and dive and to deceive
but they never, no, nobody ever
taught him what it is to really live.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Makin Monsters For My Friends
Everybody said so man you could see it on t.v.
They stood there ashamed with nowhere to go
Nobody wants them now the kids are alright
Every day is a holiday and pushin people around
Im making monsters for my friends
Im making monsters for my friends
Someone caught one I could see so myself
I had to call 254 so they wouldnt blame me
We wanted to know how much trouble there was
When we asked our daddy he said its just because
Im making monsters for my friends
Im making monsters for my friends
I dont wanna open a can of worms and I dont want any spagetti-os
And I could always tell when someone is holding a grudge
Im making monsters for my friends
Im making monsters for my friends
Im making monsters for my friends
Im making monsters for my friends
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ampitherium
The schoolroom overlooked the downs,
The heather in full bloom,
As Paul Remarque sat heavy-eyed
All through the afternoon,
He heard the teacher's droning voice
But nothing that it said,
As trees and animals and birds
Went racing through his head.
No thoughts of plain arithmetic
Had sullied up his mind,
He had no thoughts of nouns or verbs
Or any of that kind,
He sat bemused, and filled his head
With purple daffodils,
With giant gargoyle anthropods,
And distant, flowered hills.
He'd had the cane so many times,
His hands were almost raw,
The teacher called him out the front
For three times out of four,
He couldn't answer anything
Of what the teacher taught,
His mind was either journeying,
Or else was set to naught.
Then after school he'd race on down
That field at Emile's farm,
The one where no-one ever went
In case they came to harm,
For fissures there had opened up
The limestone caves below,
And that was where young Paul Remarque
Just knew he had to go.
He took a torch, and slid on down
Beneath a giant stone,
The ground had opened up just there,
He always went alone,
He took his torch, and made his way
To chambers down beneath,
Then looked up at the ceilings where
They'd drawn, in light relief.
The cave men of the region, they
Had drawn so long ago
The pictures of their daily lives,
Of bison, buffalo,
Of elk and deer and hunters
Who had slain with sharpened stone,
Those animals ranged round the walls,
That lived so long ago.
Then in a further cave, he saw
The monsters he had dreamed,
With teeth like savage ripping tools
Serrated on the seam,
With eyes as cold as avatars
And claws that gripped their prey,
That dripped blood, even human blood
The drawings seemed to say.
For as he watched, this panoply
Had swirled before his eyes,
Had bucked and twisted in the graves
These drawings symbolized,
And in their midst, a monster form
With head, part like a god,
And part like some bronzed eagle
Seemed to fix him, with a nod.
The longer that he stared, the more
The monsters seemed to move,
They stomped around the flickered walls
To see if he'd approve,
And soon this Godlike centrepiece
Came lunging from the wall,
'My name is Ampitherium, '
It seemed to say to Paul.
His parents visited the school,
'Our son learns nothing here;
We've waited for improvement now
The best part of a year! '
'He's such a dunce, ' the teacher said,
'Can't keep his mind on things,
He goes off with the faeries, and
I catch him drawing wings.'
'He must be taught a lesson, ' said
His father, heavily,
'I never thought a son of mine
Could act so stupidly;
He disappears for hours, when he
Should be returning home...'
'I'll find him, and I'll beat him, ' said
The teacher, Monsieur Sloane.
They went down in a group to find
Young Paul at Emile's Farm,
Arrived at the End Field, and then
They halted, fearing harm,
'This ground's unsafe, ' his mother said,
'I'll not go further in, '
And so they all marched back to town,
Each face was looking grim.
The sun had set when Paul emerged
From down beneath that stone,
He looked quite proud, as on he trod
That field, that hallowed loam,
For in his wake, a thundering
Of beasts, not seen by man
Appeared when Ampitherium
Came lumbering into town!
There is a town in western France
Where lies a mystery,
For there dark murder stained the pages
Of its history,
A teacher and two parents there
Were torn quite limb from limb,
Their son could utter just one word:
'Ampitherium! '
18 June 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Happy When I'm Crying
E per noi un piacere augurarvi insieme
Ai R.E.M. un buon cetriolo
(It is a pleasure for us to wish you, together
with R.E.M., a merry cucumber)
I need a song to help along
When it feels wrong it seems so long
To get to the light
We live in homes talk on phones
Hear the tones can you hold
Moving fast as light TV's on at night
Does peace come out of fighting
Can truths come out of lying
I'm happy when I'm crying
If reality is what I see newspapers mag-azines TV
Tell's what's going on leading us along
It's not absurd to all get heard
Put our feelings into words
You have to reach inside no feelings to hide
Does peace from out of fighting
Can truth come out of lying
I'm happy when I'm crying
Bring children into the world
We couldn't have done it by ourselves
Stop and wonder why
There's more than meets the eye
Somewhere inside I did believe
I can't belong I was wrong
I have gained insight
I will see the light
Truth isn't lying
Peace isn't fighting
Love isn't dying
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom Writers
Here we are
how history always repeats each time
as old as many clichés
how much can you take in
how can you laugh at a time like this
how can you call yourselves soldiers
are you fighting 'til fulfillment, for honor, your country, or your people
cuz we are all decent human beings
of earth, of Mother Nature
why can't we all just get along
or are we fighting 'til we forget the reason of why we started like so
you drunken b--ds
excuse my language
maybe I'm just angry at myself or just in that dream
where life is everywhere
everywhere that of peace, a place so called utopia
you stand and fight your ground
kill children with zyklon b
murdering thousands to smithereens with that mushroom cloud
those innocent people, or so called scapegoats of the holocaust
or not so innocent people but we all make mistakes
those innocent people who died from 9/11
those twin towers falling down
those arrested and hanged in Salem of witchcraft
no referee, no coach, no teacher, no general to command this war alone
we are all in this together
with our troubles combined brings a heavy burden hanging from our necks
what kind of war are we in!
Don't you know that rage kills
I've seen it before
I've felt it before
those blood in your eyes
ravaging the hate below your nose
I don't know what it feels like the kill someone
or someone you once loved die in your very hands
is war about revenge
or is it about justice
cuz if you don't notice
as you are raging
love ones are falling and yet you don't notice it
rage killing
so lonely, so desperate
does revenge really solve everything
do you feel satisfied after you finished him/her off
it's just so sickening
so hateful
are we human beings
or are we monsters
this nonstop ringing in the ears
just chopping that machete as we go screaming
assaulting others with the devil in your ear
man, can't you see that this isn't a comedy
how can you not hear yourselves
cuz I know somewhere I your heart, you're crying
these fragile souls
fighting monsters so soulless
cuz when they die
they'd haunt you back
war is like everyday life but ever so hard
like that holocaust
where ashes goes flying from those old smokestacks like snow on the ground
where is the love
the human equality we once stated once before
people kill
people die
raging of love ones falling
more and more scattered by the fearsome blade that come stabbing
come about with that energy with revenge
how now just put it into work of saving others
like how you can kill others so defenseless like having AIDS or HIV
this is like the money crisis, about that Wall Street
where Harlem Street rides along
where the Great Depression hit us all so hart
hmm the one-child family rule of China
or so called overpopulation
or so called of ancient times of the slave trade
not what I like to talk about
but gotta let it out
all these feelings burn my heart out
where is the justice
where is the love
this is the war we were fighting for before
this not revenge we used to talk about
this not some lives you can just melt back
this what we are fighting for once before
the so called UN to bring world peace into once
this one who writes as others did so too
we are called the freedom writers
poem by Kevin Wang
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Puppet
Puppet
By: Adam M. Snow
I am a puppet to those who use me;
for they know not what my curse may be.
All I want is for my strings to be cut;
but instead my eyes are sealed shut.
I'm hanging by strings for their entertainment;
for I am evermore bound in containment.
Who am I to be called their puppet;
though my essence cannot forget.
Day by day these strings grow tight;
day by day I try not to fight.
Although I'm stuck and cannot move;
now there's nothing else for me to prove.
I am a puppet;
yet I can't deny it.
Although I have become one with these strings;
all I wish is to spread my wings.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chirping Monsters
He was chirping like an escaped bird,
Wings were aloft in the stations
Suppressing time and its quality
From the start to the finish,
He was chirping like a poetic disorder
As the birds sing and the monsters linger.
Senseless, the redundant beasts have furnished
The earth with its crust,
And the bird's flight shall shine, shovelling the air
With both beaks after both wings.
The flight fades away in fighting fairness,
Eating entrances for the terrors
Inside tense beasts and limbs.
The monsters shake after attacks,
Inside the life we have run accordingly.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Gods And Monsters
Yearning, keep them burning, kepp them earning
Someones got to pay for all these televisions
There's children singing, and church bells ringing,
and people skipping merrily to work and dreaming
and dreaming
For maybe, you'll wind up crazy, and when you're drinking
You may start thinking that you're stupid and you're lazy
Well just keep earning, keep on yearning,
and you will believe there are no gods and monsters
gods and monsters
So free of contradictions, no dereliction,
There are no gods and monsters
So useless and so pretty and so good
So pretty and so good, gods and monsters
Now have I got you watching, for all the gods and monsters
A sitting, reclining in the back row of your mind
I think thats what you'll find
Yes there are gods and monsters
Yes there are gods and monsters
Yes there are gods and monsters
song performed by by I Am Kloot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is A New Door In My House
There is a new 'door' in the little boy's house,
Where there was not one before,
A new 'cat shaped' hole' in the kitchen,
a new 'cat sized' hole in the door.
'But what about locks and bolts? ' the little boy asked,
Tugging at his my mum's loose apron strings.
'To keep out ghosts and scary monsters',
'and all those horrible night time things.'
'We don't need locks' the boy's mum said,
'Its only cats that can get through'.
'But what about 'cat' sized monsters,
or ghosts of that size too? '
'Go to bed now', the boy's mum said,
'What are you worrying for? '
'It's ghosts and scary monsters mum
that would fit nicely through that door? '
He went up the stairs to his room,
And tried to get to sleep,
But was thinking of ghosts and scary monsters,
Not happy jumping sheep.
'Tap, Tap', he woke, that noise (he thought) ,
It came up from the ground floor! ,
A tap, tap, tap, at the cat flap,
A noise from the cat shaped door.
A shiver ran stright down the little boy's spine,
Is it monster or a ghost?
Shaking, he crept straight down the stairs thinking 'what would scare me most? '
He crawled right up to the cat flap,
To see what was at the door,
Was it the ghosts or scary monsters,
The boy was thinking of before?
He peered into the gloom of the flap,
He strained his eyes to see,
'What might it have been that made that Tap, ,
Waiting out there for me? '.
'Tap, Tap... Tap, Tap...
Again, the noise from the flap,
Tap, Tap from the cat sized door,
Two green and bulbous eyes were there,
That were not there before.
The boy sat still, afraid to move,
Chilled straight down to his core,
The eyes began to peer at him,
Straight through the cat shaped door.
Tap.. Tap.., Tap, Tap..
That sound again, just like the tap before.
What if this thing, can fit straight through,
The cat sized and unlocked door?
Slowly, the cat flap began to open,
Sweat rolled off the boy's cold brow,
Those round green eyes were now inside,
When a sound was heard....
'Meoooow'
poem by Alexander Johnson
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The Reality of Life
In my youth, my wings were strong and tireless
I could travel far and wide
I was uncontrollable and limitless
I ran with gazelles
I hung with monkeys from trees
I slept with wolfs
I lived every moment to its fullest
Nothing held me back
I had no timetable, no set schedule
I did whatever perked my interest
Rules were broken, laws were put to shame
The world was a puppet and I its puppeteer
My wings strong and tireless
But now I am old
I am caged in, ensnared, fixed to the system
I cannot travel past my set boundaries
I diligently follow law and order
Things must be done and planned accordingly
The world is a cold, unforgiving place and
I am just a pawn
I live in fear of failing, of disappointing
I pray that every moment might be my last
I long for a world that once was
When in my youth, my wings were strong and tireless
poem by Vincent Fonte
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True Soldier
You're off in war
While the love of your life is here
Be sure to come back
Be sure to come back for her
Don't forget the sights of our U.S.A.
The freedoms along with every privilege
Every privilege
Every privilege
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
Our affection is w/ you along w/ our pride
Keep us alive
Keep us alive
the tattoo on your arm reminds you of death
And friends who have died
The friend who has died
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
Down on her knees your mom prays for you
She's begging the Lord to bring you home safe
Come home safe
Please come home safe
Fly in the sky w/ all of your crew
Don't close your eyes the enemy stays true
You know what they can do
You know what they can do
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
*song for my amazing uncle overseas right now
Fisherman jim's kids
Fisherman Jim lived on the hill
With his bonnie wife an' his little boys;
'T wuz "Blow, ye winds, as blow ye will -
Naught we reck of your cold and noise!"
For happy and warm were he an' his,
And he dandled his kids upon his knee
To the song of the sea.
Fisherman Jim would sail all day,
But, when come night, upon the sands
His little kids ran from their play,
Callin' to him an' wavin' their hands;
Though the wind was fresh and the sea was high,
He'd hear'em - you bet - above the roar
Of the waves on the shore!
Once Fisherman Jim sailed into the bay
As the sun went down in a cloudy sky,
And never a kid saw he at play,
And he listened in vain for the welcoming cry.
In his little house he learned it all,
And he clinched his hands and he bowed his head -
"The fever!" they said.
'T wuz a pitiful time for Fisherman Jim,
With them darlin's a-dyin' afore his eyes,
A-stretchin' their wee hands out to him
An' a-breakin' his heart with the old-time cries
He had heerd so often upon the sands;
For they thought they wuz helpin' his boat ashore -
Till they spoke no more.
But Fisherman Jim lived on and on,
Castin' his nets an' sailin' the sea;
As a man will live when his heart is gone,
Fisherman Jim lived hopelessly,
Till once in those years they come an' said:
"Old Fisherman Jim is powerful sick -
Go to him, quick!"
Then Fisherman Jim says he to me:
"It's a long, long cruise-you understand -
But over beyont the ragin' sea
I kin see my boys on the shinin' sand
Waitin' to help this ol' hulk ashore,
Just as they used to - ah, mate, you know! -
In the long ago."
No, sir! he wuzn't afeard to die;
For all night long he seemed to see
His little boys of the days gone by,
An' to hear sweet voices forgot by me!
An' just as the mornin' sun come up -
"They're holdin' me by the hands!" he cried,
An' so he died.
poem by Eugene Field
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Monsters that I Fear
The monsters that I fear
Do not live beneath the bed
Trembling quietly on the floor
Hoping never to be heard
By the devils in the sky
Who toss and turn in tides
The monsters that I fear
Are not residents in a closet
Who peek between the fissures
Of the unwashed distilled light
Looking wearingly for movement
Around eiderdown sleeping dragons
The monsters that I fear
Have never ventured in darkness
Where souls create their compass
To guide themselves across the mountains
In peaks of pain and suffering
And rise above their inklings
The monsters that I fear
Sleep deep inside their beds
Resting peacefully in clothes
Adorned in flesh of silken lining
And awake in the still-life of each day
To invent monsters of their make
For I have never feared the monsters
Who exist in dreams of terror
But the once who are their creators
That I see in the shadows mirrors
poem by Kevin Patrick
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His Youth
Dying? I am not dying. Are you mad?
You think I need to ask for heavenly grace?
\I\ think \you\ are a fiend, who would be glad
To see me struggle in death's cold embrace.
'But, man you lie! for I am strong-in truth
Stronger than I have been in years; and soon
I shall feel young again as in my youth,
My glorious youth-life's one great priceless boon.
'O youth, youth, youth! O God, that golden time,
When proud and glad I laughed the hours away.
Why, there's no sacrifice (perhaps no crime)
I'd pause at, could it make me young to-day.
'But I'm not \old\! I grew-just ill, somehow;
Grew stiff of limb, and weak, and dim of sight.
It was but sickness. I am better now,
Oh, vastly better, ever since last night.
'And I could weep warm floods of happy tears
To think my strength is coming back at last,
For I have dreamed of such an hour for years,
As I lay thinking of my glorious past.
'You shake your head? Why, man, if you were sane
I'd strike you to my feet, I would, in truth.
How dare you tell me that my hopes are vain?
How dare you say I have outlived my youth?
''In heaven I may regain it?' Oh, be still!
I want no heaven but what my glad youth gave.
Its long, bright hours, its rapture and its thrill-
O youth, youth, youth! it is my \youth\ I crave.
'There is no heaven! There's nothing but a deep
And yawning grave from which I shrink in fear.
I am not sure of even rest or sleep;
Perhaps we lie and \think\, as I have here.
'Think, think, think, think, as we lie there and rot,
And hear the young above us laugh in glee.
How dare you say I'm dying! \I am not\.
I would curse God if such a thing could be.
'Why, see me stand! why, hear this strong, full breath-
Dare you repeat that silly, base untruth?'
A cry-a fall-the silence known as death
Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Madrigal
Crabbed Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare:
Youth is full of sports,
Age's breath is short,
Youth is nimble, Age is lame:
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold,
Youth is wild, and Age is tame:-
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee;
O! my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee-
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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