“Where have all the soldiers gone? Gone to graveyards every one”
I read the entry line above your poem
and know that true soldiers live on
sometimes as legends of a place and time,
sometimes as testimony of the effect of war,
witnesses to brutality
and seekers of peace.
The honest truth is that men die
in their hearts with every shot
that they take,
become something else
like a well trained machine
primed to destroy
and something else takes capacity
when bullets whistle past
and each moment can be your last.
[Reference: Oologsduet by Mandi Engelbrecht.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Read poem write poem and poem
Read poem write poem and poem
I know poem is the best
Poem has emotion poem has life
Through poem we can reach
Where we want to reach.
I express myself through poem
Truth is in the poem
And truth is my expression.
Know truth live with truth
Truth is in the poem.
Read poem write poem and poem.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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True Love Takes Time
This song was first released on the one world album. it is the only album it has been released on.
As I travel down the road and search the empty sky
Waiting for the moment when my eyes will see
Many are the memories the mysteries of time
How they dance around and whisper endlessly
Yes Ive travelled down this road before
Where so many men have come and gone
But you know it takes time
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
(true love takes time)
And its so very hard to find
(true love takes time)
You know that love takes time
It seemed impossible that I could care again
So it seemed I had forgotten how to give
What is this miracle that brings me back my dreams
All at once I can remember how to live
Yes Ive travelled down this road before
Where so many men have come and gone
But you know it takes time
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
(true love takes time)
And its so very hard to find
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
I have been too much alone for oh so many years
Looking for someone to sing with me
Sweet harmony
My heart is open now and tender to the touch
But there is love enough to heal me in your hands
Ill give you all my nights
All my sun and rainy days
Ill give you all the time it takes to understand
Weve travelled down this road before
Where so many fools have come and gone
But you know it takes time
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
(true love takes time)
And its so very hard to find
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
(true love takes time)
(true love takes time)
(true love takes time)
Words by dik dernell and john denver, music by dik dernell
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Machine Gun
Machine gun
Tearing my body all apart
Machine gun, yeah
Tearing my body all apart
Evil man make me kill ya
Evil man make you kill me
Evil man make me kill you
Even though were only families apart
Well I pick up my axe and fight like a bomber
(you know what I mean)
Hey! and your bullets keep knocking me down
Hey, I pick up my axe and fight like a bomber now
Yeah, but you still blast me down to the ground
The same way you shoot me down, baby
Youll be going just the same
Three times the pain,
And your own self to blame
Hey, machine gun
I aint afraid of your mess no more, babe
I aint afraid no more
After a while, your, your cheap talk dont even cause me pain,
So let your bullets fly like rain
cause I know all the time youre wrong baby
And youll be going just the same
Yeah, machine gun
Tearing my family apart
Yeah, yeah, alright
Tearing my family apart
(dont you shoot him down)
(hes bout to leave here)
(dont you shoot him down)
(hes got to stay here)
(he aint going nowhere)
(hes been shot down to the ground)
(oh where he cant survive, no, no)
Yeah, thats what we dont wanna hear anymore, alright?
(no bullets)
At least here, huh huh
(no guns, no bombs)
Huh huh
(no nothin, just lets all live and live)
(you know, instead of killin)
May this be
Love or just
Confusion born out of
Frustration wracked
Feelings - of not
Being able to
Make true physical
Love to the
Universal gypsy queen
True, free expressed music
Darling guitar please
Rest. amen
song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The empty evenings are the most difficult (in answer to Mandi Engelbrecht)
The empty evenings are the most difficult
when alone I write poems,
when I sometimes listen to Classic Fm
while I have got nothing to do,
the two old people
go to bed when darkness comes
and we say our prayers,
at times they insist
that I watch a religious DVD with them
and they talk about the news
and newspaper reports
but much too soon the evening is past
and the cocker spaniel
looks at me with her dark eyes
while the Persian cat goes outside to hunt,
and I read poems of some English friends
one after the other.
I am still searching for a job
which circles out wider,
almost away from me
while I spent my spare time
on what I can find in the library
on poetry of some great poets,
to teach myself techniques, methods, style,
and to find ideas
and it's as if the wide world
waits upon my new poems
and sometimes I mow the lawn,
and help here and there in the garden,
see the flock of sparrows,
weavers and doves coming near,
and I dare poems to repair my country,
my world, to tell people
who can make a difference
about the things happening here
and my days and nights are empty without you
but our relationship went to hell
by your own choice
and I have got a new mistress
whose name is poetry
and she is a whimsical lover
who serves others much better
before she visits me at night,
to share my pain, my sorrow and memories
and most of the time I try to know her better,
to know the rhythm, the methods of her existence,
to find that which makes her great
and one after the other my days pass,
while I wonder when things are going to change,
while I try day after day to survive
and I know that I cannot hold on to the past
and I know
that I can write almost any kind of poem
and still at times I wonder
what is happening far away in your world?
[Reference: "‘n dood gewone vrou" (an ordinary woman) by Mandi Engelbrecht.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is not that God has no pity (in answer to Yehuda Amichai)
It is not that God has no pity
on adult soldiers, who crawl
on all fours
and that He only cares
for small children and much less
for children at school,
any fool could believe this gibberish,
but when bullets whistle past your head,
you see comrades and the enemy dead,
how rockets penetrate through
the thick steel armour of tanks
and armoured cars
how grenades, landmines and bombs
explode shattering
you know that mere men
are doing and continue doing
these evil war things
and when you live through
this kind of hell
and come out unscathed,
still living
when your should have been dead,
you know that you are really worshipping
a loving and pitiful God instead
of the merciless one
that some are painting Him
as He has accompanied you
right through the dread.
[Reference: God Has Pity On Kindergarten Children by Yehuda Amichai.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scanning
Scan the societyby the power of poem
Let the rare disease of humanity go.
One or two line of live poem is enough
And it save the human race from disorders.
Please read read read and read the poem
Be a perfect man of highest order.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Verwoerd is Black
This poem is pregnant
with the black bloodshed of 1976.
This poem is constipated
with slavery of the poor.
This poem is the titanic of people’s hopes
sinking in the freezing ocean of democracy.
This poem is the enemy of the state,
‘cause, this poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is a hook that fishes
odd deeds buried behind black faces.
This poem is a mirror
that reflects odd unknown images
of stinking rich black men.
This poem is the voice of the angry dead.
This poem is a hammer to nail
in the brain of greedy politicians.
This poem is a database
of all black leaders.
This poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is for you
black man who spits
at the sight of a white man.
This poem is for you
white man who owns a savaged land
full of secret mass graves.
This poem is for you
black and white who hug and kiss
to please Madiba.
This poem is for you
the poor, who sing:
freedom has finally come.
This poem is for you, who know no truth,
‘cause, this poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is for you
my brother & sister who have lost taste
of your mother-tongue
in the multiracial Model C schools.
This poem is for you
black mama, who has configured her black being
‘cause black is barbaric.
This poem is the anger of hunger.
This poem is for the unemployed voters
who find solace in booze, sex & crime.
This poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
poem by Mpho Ramaano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Read! ! !
Don't read this poem!
Turn back while you have the chance
Or you will regret it
This poem is a poem of darkness
This poem is a devourer of souls
It will destroy you
Consume you
Absorb you into its black depths
I tried to warn you
I told you not to read it
Why are you still reading?
If I had named it 'READ THIS POEM! ! ! '
Would you have even bothered?
This poem is pulling you in
It has your feet
It's eating you
It's shattering your soul
It's never going to let you go
It's murdering you
This poem is a murderer
It is a criminal, it is evil
It is unnameable, unbreakable, imperfect
This poem has you
It's too late for you now
There's no escape for you now
Too bad
This poem has you
This poem's devoured you
Yummm, good
This poem is satisfied now
You should have listened to me
But you didn't
And now the poem's taken you
You're dead.
Wendell Gee
Thats when wendell gee takes a tug
Upon the string that held the line of trees
Behind the house he lived in
He was reared to give respect
But somewhere down the line he chose
To whistle as the wind blows
Whistle as the wind blows, with me
He had a dream one night
That the tree had lost its middle
So he built a trunk of chicken wire
To try to hold it up
But the wire, the wire turned to lizard skin
And when he climbed inside
There wasnt even time to say
Goodbye to wendell gee
So whistle as the wind blows
Whistle as the wind blows, with me
If the wind were colors
And if the air could speak
Then whistle as the wind blows
Whistle as the wind blows
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want to be a Soldier
I will be a soldier
Only when soldiers realize
They are not animals or
cattles
Only if soldiers can ask
'Why should I shoot that
innocent man? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers can ask the
commander
'Why should we shoot at
the children? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers know that
The red blood that runs
through their veins
Runs in the rest peopl's too.
I would be a soldier if
Soldiers know they aren't
what they ask them to be
When they know that
The Emperor will never ask
them to kill his children
I would be a soldier
When soldiers realize war
is inhuman
When soldiers know war
always starts war
When they know that
World peace can not be
reached through war
When United Nations can
ask themselves
Is war the only way to end
corruption in the globe?
When soldiers know the
distance between peace and
war.
When soldiers realize how
intoxicative the gun is.
When soldiers realize
that gun does not control
them, but they control it.
I would be a soldier only if
soldiers know
why Martin Luther King jnr.
was killed.
If they know Adolf Hitler
also tried to make peace
through war.
I would be a soldier
If they can tell me why they
are only trained to kill.
I would be a soldier if
soldier can say
NO TO BRUTE LEADERS.
I would be a soldier if
soldiers know
the difference between
death and birth.
I would be a soldier if they
can tell
Why they are weapons of
destruction?
If they can explain why they
killed at Vietnam?
Why they killed at Somalia?
Why Ghadafi was killed
without trial?
Why Abraham Lincoln was
shot
Why Ghandi was killed,
Why they dont care if they
die in war in the name of
peace.
I would be a soldier If soldiers know they have rights If soldiers know they need Freedom. I would be a soldier If the goverments around the world realize How wonderful the world would be If the money invests in atomic weapons can be spent To feed billions of children on the streets of India, Nigeria, Brazil, South Africa The United States and all the streets of the World. I would be a soldier when soldiers can fight for liberty And not for slavery When soldiers know that nobody should think for them When soldiers know they are humans not cattles, When they realize that nobody should tell them what to think and what to feel. If soldiers can be humans, I would be a soldier.
poem by Idris Adesina
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My untainted Love
my tears cried in your pupil eyes, that would heal the inner
passion of your heart, it is the zeal that makes the wound
dried up in my life a moment to take the true essence of
what is to love you so dearly
a womb of love that woven in the pinnacle of joy, has
reveal the truth that life we share is just a love that it takes
the wisdom of death as the beginning of an endless life
with the one you really love
no other love you can give, but the love you live it now, is the
only love you have to share, in order to live life to the fullness
of joy, the end is just beginning to sprout, that behind that line
of pain happiness is waiting
to give is to die and to die is to live, with the passion of living
the one you love, illuminate who you are to me, life changes
as it goes, and along the way the genuine life is sheltered in
the timeless beats of an endless yes
as every moment knock, and every wings flock, our hearts pack
that life we live and share is only the end of the beginning of
our infinitum of search of who we are in this life.... a journey
that what ever it takes... your always with me
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For the people Of Palestine
In a holy land, with a strange feeling
A strange and calm feeling that comes from the heart of people
People who live pure, people who are valuable and kind
People who are great and faithful, men and women with beautiful minds
Their sky was calm a day, it was full of white pigeons
Pigeons which were the messengers of peace
A blue sky that was above a golden place
A place that was full of happy face
Green lands and greener islands with warm sunny farms
Happy people who don't think about a simple fight
Streets full of cheerful children and cars
But the time brings an unfair war
Some people think power can take everything from poor people
But it never can conquer the faith
Faith will destroy every satanic thing
It can bring bad things down, even the powerful kings
Farms destroyed under the boots of soldiers
They close their eyes and burst fire on the poor and innocent children of Palestine
Their laugh destroy that empty sky
Satanic plans those we know all are a lie! ! !
Power Vs Faith
Guns Vs Stones
Bullets Vs people
And Blood on the feeble
When a pure stone flies, a bullet tears the sky to hit for the answer
And then a heart that once was for a human stop beating
The truth is being hiding in our world
We should help the people of Palestine, not with our words! !
Where are the humans right protectors?
Where are the people who are loyal to humanities criteria?
Where are the humans to see a family that sleep with fear?
Where is a person to clean the children tears?
We have a ceiling to sleep in peace under it
We have security, we live in peace
But there…, suddenly the roof of a house will fall down
When they think they are sleeping in peace, they buried in the dawn
In the Name of Humanity, don't be silent
See the truth; see the pure bodies those just fell down
See the tears of mothers those live in stress
See the great unfair condition, see the real mess!
For the people of Palestine
People who live in a cruel situation
For the people of Palestine,
People who their rights are taken, , people with no sin!
poem by Ellias Anderson
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Paradox of Truth
The most subtle lies art the greatest truth
Like the fairy tales of our imaginative youth
Each truth a paradox, a lie does tell
A truth somewhere in mythical spell
When one lies, truth still speaks
For in everything doth truth seek
To express itself to hearts to behold
The truth of life in every lie told
Told in such eloquent song
There is truth in something especially wrong
Rhetoric, myths, ignorance and lies
Truth in all, every truth belies.
If thou don't believe it is certainly true
For to believe is true to me and you
And in this poem if you believe no truth
Let this poem be truth's own proof….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Engelbrecht Decides On An Assassination Attempt (In Answer To Johan Van Wyk)
Engelbrecht decides on an assassination attempt,
to peep through the sight of a.308 hunting rifle
at the new black President
and some of his best friends are sworn to silence.
With a violin-case in his hand
he visits the hotel
just beyond the Union Buildings;
about the wind direction and line of sight he has to be sure.
Through the telescopic sight he sees a whole crowd waiting
and he pushes a dum-dum round into the barrel,
open the window much wider
while he watches the scene beneath him.
One of his friends speaks far too much
and more information
are forced from him with shocking apparatus
while the secret police makes him talk.
When the security police enter the hotel
a shot somewhere above them is being fired
and they are surprised,
as the President has not yet arrived at the Union Buildings
and they find Engelbrecht with his head
blown from his body
with a note covered in blood
that tells them
to go to hell
and he says that he has departed to another country
where Afrikaners have got rights
and although he is standing guilty before the throne of God,
He will understand on the other side.
[Reference: 'Staatsgreep' (Coup d'etat) by Johan van Wyk.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Will The Poem Written Today/ Read Well Tomorrow?
WILL THE POEM WRITTEN TODAY/ READ WELL TOMORROW?
Will the poem written today
Read well tomorrow?
Will what seems so right now
Last beyond the time of its being said?
Or am I a poet of the present moment only
Who in the saying believes in what is said
And who fails in the long – term reflection?
What will remain of all my ‘presents’
And all those times of writing
And feeling it is true?
Years from now
Long after I will be able to read any poem
Will these lines mean anything
To anyone?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Lay Down Your Arms
Lay down your arms and don't fight! !
For, true love is better than the bullets of war!
Think and reason up!
For, true love is better than the bullets of war!
So, we need to live in peace than fighting each other!
All in the name of who wants to be first.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Many Puppies
Too many puppies are being shot in the dark.
Too many puppies are trained not to bark.
At the sight of blood that must be spille dso that
We may maintain our oil fields.
Too many puppies
Too many puppies are taught to heal.
Too many puppies are trained to kill.
On the command of men wearing money belts that buy
Mistresses sleek animal pelts.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies with guns in their hands.
Too many puppies in foreign lands.
Are dressed up sharp in suits of green and
Placed upon the war machine.
Too many puppies are just like me.
Too many puppies are afraid to see.
The visions of the past brought to life again,
Too many puppies, too many dead men.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now is Forever
The past is all that’s gone,
the future is yet to come.
this moment is all our own.
We should live this way,
Just building up our day,
now and forever.
The past is all that’s gone,
the future is yet to come.
this moment is all our own.
We should live this way,
Just building up our day,
now and forever.
We should think about,
What we got right now,
cause the good things are made up of time.
Smile to your problems,
Leave the past behind.
never forget this.
find the truth in your soul,
keeping you alive.
going on from minute to minute.
don’t shade the future,
with all that’s behind.
live for today.
the past is all that’s gone,
the future is yet to come.
this moment is all our own.
we should live this way,
just building up our day,
now and forever.
the past is all that’s gone,
the future is yet to come.
this moment is all our own.
we should live this way,
just building up our day,
now and forever.
don’t shade your future,
with what you don’t have.
keep your mind on that’s here today.
now and forever,
build the future now.
keep this mind.
though you will take your time,
to get what you need,
but you’ll do it step after step.
yet to come is all that’s gone,
learn to lice this moment.
live for today.
poem by Rachell Dear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paschandale
(SmithHarris)
In a foreign field he lay
Lonely soldier, unknown grave
On his dying words he prays
Tell the world of Paschendale
Relive all that he's been through
Last communion of his soul
Rust your bullets with his tears
Let me tell you 'bout his years
Laying low in a blood filled trench
Kill tim 'til my very own death
On my face I can feel the falling rain
Never see my friends again
In the smoke, in the mud and lead
Smell the fear and the feeling of dread
Soon be time to go over the wall
Rapid fire and the end of us all
Whistles, shouts and more gun fire
Lifeless bodies hang on barbed wire
Battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb
Be reunited with my dead friends soon
Many soldiers eighteen years
Drown in mud, no more tears
Surely a war no-one can win
Killing time about to begin
Home, far away
From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away
But the war, no chance to live again
The bodies of ours and our foes
The sea of death it overflows
In no man's land, God only knows
Into jaws of death we go
Crucified as if on a cross
Allied troops they mourn their loss
German war propaganda machine
Such before has never been seen
Swear I heard the angels cry
Pray to god no more may die
So that people know the truth
Tell the tale of Paschendale
Cruelty has a human heart
Every man does play his part
Terror of the men we kill
The human heart is hungry still
I stand my ground for the very last time
Gun is ready as I stand in line
Nervous wait for the whistle to blow
Rush of blood and over we go
Blood is falling like the rain
Its crimso
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem
i like to read your poem
and i like to say it is a poem
there is a difference
of course
between the two statements
i like to read
it is your poem but i may
after reading
that
saying that i am honest though
and can distinguish a poem
from one that is not a poem
that your poem is one that i only
like to read
and may
say that it is not your poem
but it is yours you are sure of that
but what i am saying is that
i am reading your poem
but i feel that it is not
a poem after all
i can say one when i read one
so i just say i like reading your poem
which could not really be a poem
not even prose
i just like it
but it is not anything about what
i feel i like it to be
a poem or prose
i am reading it, it isn't
like this one for instance
you know that
now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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