A letter arrives by registered mail
A letter arrives by registered mail
and the getting of it costs nothing,
but the contents
leaves the mark of Cain.
From sixteen all boys are computerized
and when you leave school you are not spared
and get a call up instruction by telegram
and your way is marked off, determined and ready.
Like handcuffs locking for a time
the government has already decided for you
to get training and go to war
and from it no one escapes.
You are indoctrinated
and even chaplains tries to convert you to war
and tell you that you are the rod of God
rather than teaching you about the Lord.
The country is threatened by a total onslaught
with destruction from waiting communists
and you are taught to shoot and kill
and are chased around day and night.
Till you stand at the moment of truth
and enemies are people just like you
at the edge of death
and their lives are forever past
and everybody dies
and are ripped to pieces
young and old and people of another colour
and nobody escapes the destruction
and blood stays red and wet
en splashed into your soul
and the mark of Cain never comes off
and nothing can remove it.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Soldier Boy
All they taught, to handle
throw and bury explosives
bomb and bullet as shirt
guns are my trouser
nothing but to guard
glancing and glance enemies
intervention as my subject
thus war the daily topic
with the anthem
'no mercy'
All they taught, to kill
all my excels are Sins
progress in life
was never taught
all to -scope and shoot
scramble like a thief
lives destruction i must
kill or did i must
suicide at battle front
All they taught, to destroy
Country to, Country to
lives and properties
my target with arrow
all they assemble in office
their command in cesspool
bark like dogs
yes sir!
even dying
convene for mission
head and tail untold
long since scooped
all they command
destruction alone
killing our days
All they taught, no mystery
million i guarded
when time to collapse
i must first
i kill and inhale
when no inhales
ever war,
hope always mine
Wishdom never far
killing i must with
till death overcome
and take the last breath
with no objection.
poem by alfusainey Sonko
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Poor Boy Blues
by Bob Dylan
Mm, tell mama,
Where'd ya sleep last night?
Cain't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
Hey, tell me baby,
What's the matter here?
Cain't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
Hey, stop you ol' train,
Let a poor boy ride.
Cain't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
Hey, Mister Bartender,
I swear I'm not too young.
Cain't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
Blow your whistle, policeman,
My poor feet are trained to run.
Cain't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
Long-distance operator,
I hear this poor call is on the house.
Cain't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
Ashes and diamonds,
The diff'rence I cain't see.
Cain't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
Mister Judge and Jury,
Cain't you see the shape I'm in?
Don't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
Mississippi River,
You a-runnin' too fast for me.
Cain't ya hear me cryin'?
Hm, hm, hm.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mysteries And Mayhem
Well I'm trying to tell you about a thing I thought I saw
It came to me in a dream one night
When a voice began to call
I heard my name being summoned as I looked around to see
A hooded judge and jury
There was no mercy there for me
Well I can't make it, I just can't figure it out
This dream is drivin' me crazy
I gotta know what it's all about
The mark is upon me, and the mark of Cain brings fear
A cold wind's blowin' right down my back
I'm runnin, I'm runnin' from a figure that's dressed in black
I think my legs are made out of lead
Cause I'm runnin' but I'm going nowhere
The bad dream is coming closer and closer
I got a feelin' he'll always be there
Forever is a long time to spend in agony
And the demons of confusion have got a place for me
The mark is upon me, and the mark of Cain brings fear
I was tired, so tired of runnin'
I had to turn and look around
I saw eyes that looked right through me
And a voice that made no sound
My body froze and I stood and stared, unearthly face before me
From the depths of a hooded nightmare, I saw what could not be
Mysteries and mayhem from the pinnacle I see
There's no answer when there's no question
The mark of Cain bears hard on me
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loose Talk Costs Lives
(b gibb)
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
Dont look at me as if you dont remember me at all
There was laughter, there was pain
But I wont make the same mistakes I made
You are too beautiful to me
I hide my tears inside the rain
Am I the soul you cast your spell upon
I had control and now its gone
Or are you someone who controls my heart and mind
And I will never say a word
And I will never say goodbye
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
I can see that someone hung a sign around your heart
And it reads do not return
And there is so much trouble I could cause
Someone as beautiful as you
You can feel my candle burn
And I still recall some starry night
We had it all, we held on tight
I promised I would come to you and catch you if you fall
And they will never know about us
For just one moment you were mine
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
For just one moment, just one moment, you were mine
Loose talk costs lives
(our moment held in time)
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I saw young men, boys just out of school (Villanelle)
I saw young men, boys just out of school,
working men with university degrees
far too clever to be any anyone’s fool
being called up for war, being tossed into its whirlpool
set on fire and burning like a bunch of trees.
I saw young men, boys just out of school,
who over war did not drool
but hated every moment of it, men with great qualities
far too clever to be anyone’s fool
who’s lives were threaded out like from a spool,
treated like mere sediment, dregs, refuse, like lees.
I saw young men, boys just out of school,
in places flaming hot, icy cold wearing jerseys of wool,
praying, standing in the wilderness on their knees
far too clever to be any anyone’s fool
with pierced bodies draining in bloody pool after bloody pool
becoming the sons of Cain, the devils own employees
and I saw young men, boys just out of school,
far too clever to be any anyone’s fool.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Now that time flies past
Now that time flies past
this will be seen
as Afrikaner history
and people will say
that it is past
but we know
he was jailed
like a criminal,
was later Prime Minister
and then President
(and it’s not Nelson Mandela
that I am talking about)
this man was a true Afrikaner
and seen by some
as a patriot
Maybe planted bombs
to blow up railway lines
and held a gun in his hand,
seen at a time
by white people
as a terrorist
and was jailed for it
but wasn’t a killer
like the terrorists of today
and later
he could take
the Big Black Book
in his hand
and on it make a solemn oath
before the Lord
and try to keep his promise,
until the big crocodile
snapped him in two
and walked into his shoes
and the total onslaught came
and eland armoured cars, later ratels,
artillery and rocket launching lorries
stood in Angola
to hit the communists
into pieces.
poem by Gert Strydom
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With No Escapes From It To Exit
There is no other way to address truth,
But to be prepared to be stripped naked...
Bare,
With the exposing of every blemish.
Since truth is not seeking to be impressed.
Truth is on a mission to uncover honesty.
And many are still unbelieving,
The depth of which truth sees without explanation...
To deceive what is already revealed.
When truth is in one's presence and is fully awakened,
With no escapes from it to exit...
Foolish is the time taken to charade in masquerade,
To evade it with a wasting away of one's time.
With no escapes from it to exit,
Truth...
Is very effective!
With no escaping undetected,
Truth...
Is very effective.
Once fed truth it manifests.
And truth will not be neglected...
To reject!
With no escapes from it to exit,
Truth...
Is very effective!
With no escaping undetected,
Truth...
Is very effective.
Once fed truth it manifests.
And truth will not be neglected...
To reject!
With no escapes from it to exit,
Truth...
Is very effective!
With no escapes from it to exit,
Truth...
Is very effective!
And truth will not be neglected...
To reject!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Phantoms Of Death
There are phantoms here on earth who take away our lives
They kill your kids and they rape your wives
They rip your flesh tear your heart take you down to hell
They dont give a damn on any kind of life
Phantoms bring evil, destruction and death
Night after night the same old game
They all look so harmless but deep in their hearts
Satan is lurking, and he will break out
Always someone at your back only waiting to attack
Chorus phantoms of death, phantoms of death
The empire of deceivers is built upon your fear
Youll have to lose it cause the end is near
Warheads, armies stand to strike I know it isnt right
I wanna get out of here I dont wanna die
Infernal destruction of fire youll burn
Then youll be helpless but its not too late
Stand up right now and youll be the winner
Or satan will get you, take you forever
Genocide everywhere, wheres the saviour of this world
Chorus phantoms of death, phantoms of death
Where is he the promised saviour the one wholl save the earth
Perhaps hell come to bury us but then itll be too late
Who are they who are the phantoms who will end our lives
Its you and me, you and me open up your eyes
Phantoms bring evil, destruction and death
Night after night the same old game
They all look so harmless but deep in their hearts
Satan is lurking, and he will break out
We are all parasites of this world we shall die
Chorus phantoms of death, phantoms of death
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mark (Of Cain)
when we kill,
for whatever reason,
we bear the mark
of Cain...
and wear the results
of our actions!
whether we kill
with guns and bombs,
or by the greed
of our actions,
and our very lifestyles.
we are guilty!
if it leaves a bad taste,
we shouldnt have eaten it!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Time Is Not Our Cage (Gabry Ponte Power Cut)
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
and forever we go on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
Born to be forever young
Children of eternity
Always searching for a faster race
Defeating what time wants to be
There's no king
In this place
Like a star that belongs to the sky
And the times are our names in your mind
Our souls are the wings as we fly
Against time
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
and forever we go on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
Born to be forever young
Just like an old song that's playing a tune
That revives what seems lost in the past
With dignity fighting for whom
In a way
Wants to last
Like a friendship of 10 years ago
That is frozen inside of a picture
That tomorrow can cancel and go
Against time
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
and forever we go on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
born to be forever young
Free as a soul is
Far beyond all the boundries of time
Its you mark that lives on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
and forever we go on
We are flying
and we're flying high till the end
We are men without an age
Time is not out cage
born to be forever young
song performed by by Eiffel 65
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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You Know The Score
(sylvester / clarke)
I look to the east and I look to the west
Trying to find a place where theres rest
You know where I go, you know its the same show
People turning their backs, not wanting to know
Look there son, youll find hungry mouths
Saying please feed me well Im only a child
All around youll find fallow ground
But you cant plow a field with a hundred missiles
You know the score
You know its war
Death and destruction
We gotta change it now
Lord only knows how
To turn it into more
Where have all the rainbows gone
Where where where
My, oh god, says hes seen better days
Where, where, where
Speak to me, lord speak to me, lord
Come on down with your fiery sword
Rid this place of all its hate
Show your face before its too late
You know the score
You know its war
Death and destruction
Death and destruction
Death and destruction
We gotta change it now
Lord only knows how
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rockets Fall On Sderot Chanukah 5768
ROCKETS FALL ON SDEROT CHANUKAH 5768
This is no day for a poem
Rage and rain and mud
Darkness covers the earth
Our haters multiply their weapons
Rockets and bombs fall upon us
We hide
Waiting for the right moment
To strike.
Will it ever end
The hatred
The cruelty
The endless effort to destroy us?
Rockets at random terrorize
The children and the poor
Nights are not nights
And days are not days
When death and destruction
Can come at any time.
We are an old people
Long longing for peace
And our enemies multiply
And their weapons also
And hate is their breakfast and their dinner
And destruction is their main food.
And we alone as always alone
We the alone people
Waiting to make one more small strike
Against their leaders,
In a war against hatred and haters
which makes no promise
now or ever
Of ever truly ending.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To Become A Soldier (Didactic)
To be a soldier
get your country to call you up
to a place where you listen and shut-up
to defend those whom you hold dear
or join the military at your own choice
and in basic training (boot camp)
listen to the instructor’s voice
even if he looks wicked like a devil or a tramp
follow instructions to the letter
do everything physical
and drill and drill
while you hope that things will become better,
as they probably never will
while they train you day and night
and especially teach you how to kill
while staying out of the enemy’s sight,
on instruction run from tree to tree,
in full battle dress
and keep going when others are in distress
even if you have got to wee-wee.
If you are up to it, join a special commando unit
or the parachute brigade
while you show them of what you are made
and then really enjoy it.
Wait until they sent you off to war
while you are a different person than you had been before:
a specialist in creating havoc,
in destruction and bloody gore.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Cain And Abel
When Adam fell he quickly lost
God's image, which he once possessed:
See All our nature since could boast
In Cain, his first-born Son, expressed!
The sacrifice the Lord ordained
In type of the Redeemer's blood,
Self-righteous reas'ning Cain disdained,
And thought his own first-fruits as good.
Yet rage and envy filled his mind,
When, with a fallen, downcast look,
He saw his brother favor find,
Who God's appointed method took.
By Cain's own hand, good Abel died,
Because the Lord approved his faith;
And, when his blood for vengeance cried,
He vainly thought to hide his death.
Such was the wicked murd'rer Cain,
And such by nature still are we,
Until by grace we're born again,
Malicious, blind and proud, as he.
Like him the way of grace we slight,
And in our own devices trust;
Call evil good, and darkness light,
And hate and persecute the just.
The saints, in every age and place,
Have found this history fulfilled;
The numbers all our thoughts surpass
Of Abels, whom the Cains have killed!
Thus Jesus fell - but O! his blood
Far better things than Abel's cries:
Obtains his murd'rers peace with God,
And gains them mansions in the skies.
poem by John Newton
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Let it Kill
let it kill me and if it doesnt let it try again and again and again till i die, then let it try again and again and finally let it kill me if not then let it try again till i die of pain cause this pain i cannot take, so let it kill until i feel death creep up the corner, let me die with honor or without it just let me die, so let it kill me again and again and if not let it try until i die, for this life i cannot take i have lost all faith so just let me die, let it try to kill me dont set me free come on kill me i refuse mercy or sympathy all i want is death so please let it kill let it send me to death as fast as things go past, let it kill, let it destroy my soul and leave it not whole for i want death, i want death again i say i want death let it kill and if not let it kill again and again till death is all that remain, let it kill
poem by Adens Kamwi
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End Of The World
What shall we see when the world ends?
Shall our lives be lends?
Everybody shall be in confusion
As if they just suffered concussion
There shall be a lot of distraction
Not to mention,
The end of the world shall be a total destruction
It might appear like fiction
But death shall then be like a distribution
Except some who make their life a pension
Within men, there shall be tension
And fallacy, shall be people's word function
And hopes to survive is corrosion
Widespread sorrow and desperation
Shall be their story like an infection
And reality of their past their trembling section
But slowly shall I stand to watch in affection
The end of the world in total succession
poem by Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo
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Anarchists
The leaders of this country,
Think were the ones that do wrong,
They take control of the power,
and steal this land of forgotten freedom
Its not the people afraid of the government,
Its the government afraid of the people
They call the ones dressed in black,
The evil ones but we fight back,
We've got hackers, we've got protesters,
we let no man left behind
Its not the people afraid of the government,
Its the government afraid of the people
The unions dressed in black,
With their flag raised up high,
Don't take no for an answer,
As the forces stain the streets with blood
Its not the people afraid of the government,
Its the government afraid of the people
We fight for the people,
Our obligation is good as gold,
And though we fight with arms of steel,
we don't let death go in vein
Its not the people afraid of the government,
Its the government afraid of the people
poem by Bing D'Amico
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I Am... (Bottomless Pool)
i am...
the bottomless pool
at the foot of the cliff,
the moment just before dawn.
the broken window
of the abandoned house,
the tire swing casting shadows.
i am the eyes of god
in the crickets' song,
the shovel caked with dirt.
i am the thrust of the pelvis,
and the death of the soul,
the unseen sweeper of hearts.
i am the tongue that evolves,
the fish that walk on land.
i am the drumbeat of lives remembered.
i am the child we cannot return to,
and the grave waiting in stillness.
i am the crash of ideas,
the eater of thoughts.
i am seaweed in the mouth of the thinker.
i am ears that pray,
and fists that repent,
i am the mark of Cain.
i am the lover your heart desires,
the face of smoke and incense.
i am the cross, and borrowed wings,
i am the webbed feet of ancient longing.
i am the sinner, and the sin,
i am the whole man picking up pieces.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Deserter
Mr. President
I'm writing you a letter
that perhaps you will read
If you have the time.
I've just received
my call-up papers
to leave for the front
Before Wednesday night.
Mr. President
I do not want to go
I am not on this earth
to kill wretched people.
It's not to make you mad
I must tell you
my decision is made
I am going to desert.
Since I was born
I have seen my father die
I have seen my brothers leave
and my children cry.
My mother has suffered so,
that she is in her grave
and she laughs at the bombs
and she laughs at the worms.
When I was a prisoner
they stole my wife
they stole my soul
and all my dear past.
Early tomorrow morning
I will shut my door
on these dead years
I will take to the road.
I will beg my way along
on the roads of France
from Brittany to Provence
and I will cry out to the people:
Refuse to obey
refuse to do it
don't go to war
refuse to go.
If blood must be given
go give your own
you are a good apostle
Mr. President.
If you go after me
warn your police
that I'll be unarmed
and that they can shoot.
poem by Boris Vian
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