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Another Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries (in reply to A.E. Housman)

In the days when heaven shook
and Lucifer an angel of light,
took a third
of once holy ones with him
in a mercenary calling, made darkness his own,
when he tried to become equal to the creator God

that army of mercenaries fought
against Michael and his host
and lost, falling in defeat
and Michael and his host ended the rebellion,
had it suspended

and the mercenaries paid the price for their deceit,
(if any of them died they did deserved it)
and they fell like comets from the sky
and burning, aflame to this planet they came
which is still revolving as it did then

and here their leader entrapped man
with a cunning elusive plan
trying to take this world
into destruction with him

but as a mortal God walked this earth,
paid the price instead of man
to make the demon’s work undone
and still man has a choice
to where his affections lie

and in spite of the presence of mercenaries here
elements of love, sincerity, truth and grace
still abounds in the heart of men
who honour the almighty God.

[References: Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries by A.E. Housman and Another Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries by Hugh Macdiarmid in reply to A.E. Housman.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Epitaph on an army of mercenaries (in answer to A.E. Housman)

In the days that war was in heaven
when its halls was filled with dread,
Satan called holy beings to be heathen,
to wage war and in rebellion to spread.

There the uprising and terror was ended
while they led the human beings on earth astray,
what God created, these wanted suspended
to lead human beings to destruction and away.

[Reference: Epitaph on an army of mercenaries by A.E. Housman.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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On An Army Of Rebelling Mercenaries (Rondel) (In Answer To A.E. Housman)

Those rebels wanting heaven to be falling,
who before Michael and his forces fled;
had a demonic, destructive calling
and by there wages are worse than dead;

on earth their actions are still appalling
as they only bring some sorrow and dread.
Those rebels wanting heaven to be falling
who before Michael and his forces fled,

are trying almost everything to be stalling
as their corruption and evil they spread;
the high heaven they are still recalling
as to utter destruction they do head;
those rebels wanting heaven to be falling.

[Reference: “Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries” by A. E. Housman.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Rock n Roll Mercenaries

(talking, talking - wealth, talking - money, talking - power
Talking - horses, talking - fun, talking - self, talking - power
Talking - diamonds, talking - ego, talking - man, talking - wealth)
(and talking - power) (repeats)
Money is power, power is fame
Chorus:
Talking about rock n roll mercenaries
Soldiers of fortune by some other name
Im talking about rock n roll mercenaries
Money is power, n power is fame
Everything you pay to hear - just listen
Everything to catch your ear - just listen
Whatever it takes, theyre ready to sell
Anything and everything they do it themselves
(chorus)
Young are the victims so easily [swayed/slain]
[as some given are poisoned, all continuous placed]
Our conscience is a load, so heavy to carry, for a rock n roll mercenary
(chorus)
It starts with a game, see how they play
Till all of the laughter is faded away
Its not for the song, its not for the love
Its just for the gold and theres never enough - never enough
(chorus)
Its not for the song, its not for the love
Its just for the gold, theres never enough
(chorus)
(rock n roll mercenaries)
(talking, talking) (repeats out)
Rock n roll mercenaries - ooh, talkin about
Rock n roll mercenaries... (to fade)

song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once you start thinking about it in a mercenary frame of mind, then you're finished. You're a joke, because there are too many mercenaries out there already.

quote by Tommy Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We will push those crooks, those mercenaries back into the swamp.

quote by Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thousands of mercenaries, who have trained in camps on the territory of Chechnya as well as come in from abroad, are actually preparing to impose extremist ideas on the whole world.

quote by Boris Yeltsin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Osman Pazvantoglou

A begot of Bosnia Province, 'son of the guard',
mercenary in service to Wallachian Prince Nicholas
Mavrogenes, friend to Rigas Feraios Greek Bard,
revolts an army of mercenaries rebels to amass.

Freed from Ottoman Sultan Selim, acts independent,
his state recognized by Western Europe diplomats,
In 1798, held territories spread from river Danub
to the Balkan Mountains, from Belgrade to Varna.

Osman, warrior of North, fierce, in deathly defeat,
in deathly victory, honored by a Glory transient,
wins in Vidin, loses in Smederovo, fear to transmit
a new Carpathian Vlad Tepes' vindicatory punishment.

Defeats a 100,000 soldier army of Huseyin Kucuk,
ruthless warrior, raiding territories in blind moksha
fighting Sultans Ottoman, and Serbs, win, or lose
as in 1798 the Sultan is forced to make him a pasha.

Raids in Wallachia, against Alexander Mourouzis,
the Phanariote Prince, who in 1800, resigns to Selim,
Osman's pasvangii troops, burn all Craiova houses,
in 1802 Prince Michael Soutzos of Bucchurest deposes.

Blind, indiscriminate absolutism, Osman's warlords
In 1809, retaliation campaign of Oltenian hajduks
led by Iancu Jianu were victorious, for Romanians,
as Osman raids are recalled as extremely ill and old.

As many charismatic rulers, Osman the warlord,
missed the opportunity to organize a state based
on traditional values, fought ambiguously and lost
the trust of Balcanians, who condemned his raids.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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I Paid The Price

See notes below
Well Im sick and tired
Of your alibis,
And your indiscreet lies
Just wont get you by,
Over and over and over and over again.
And your family,
Your forced superiority,
Your azure delusions of grandeur,
Are gonna cut you free,
Over and over and over and over again.
Youre as cold as ice.
Ahh, youre not miss nice,
And I paid the price.
Ahh, you can count me out.
Oh, without a doubt,
I paid the price.
And up and down, round, round you go,
But you know one monkey
Dont stop no show.
Its plain to see
Youre in need of help,
But I just cant go on
And whip myself
Over and over and over, over again.
Ahh, you can count me out.
Ahh, without a doubt,
You know, I paid the price.
Ahh, youre not miss nice.
Youre as cold as ice,
And I paid the price.
Yes I did.
You know I did.
And I just wanna know
Whos your sponsor.
I just wanna know, oh,
I just a-wanna know, oh,
I just a-wanna know, oh,
Whos your angel.
{backup singers} [i paid the price.]
Sing the song.
[i paid the price.]
[i paid the price.]
[i paid the price.]
And dont discriminate your angel.
[i paid the price.]
And dont discriminate your sponsor.
[i paid the price.]
And be good to your angel.
[i paid the price.]
Bow down to your angel.
[i paid the price.]
Hey, hey!!
[i paid the price.]
Dont discriminate your angel.
[i paid the price.]
And dont discriminate your angel.
[i paid the price.]
Dont discriminate your angel.
[i paid the price.]
Dont discriminate your sponsor.
[i paid the price.]
Bow down to your angel.
[i paid the price.]
Bow down to your angel.
[i paid the price.]
Bow down to your angel.
[i paid the price.]
Uhh, be good!
[i paid the price.]
Be good to your angel.
[i paid the price.]
I tried for to blow it. (? ? )
[i paid the price.]
I tried for to blow it (? ? ), one more time.
[i paid the price.]
I tried for to blow it (? ? ), one more time.
[i paid the price.]
If you blow it one more time, I say,
[i paid the price.]
Oh, youre as
Cold as ice,
And youre not miss nice,
And Ive definitely
Paid the price.

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stevedores

We are the army stevedores, lusty and virile and strong,
We are given the hardest work of the war, and the hours are long.
We handle the heavy boxes, and shovel the dirty coal;
While soldiers and sailors work in the light, we burrow below like a mole.
But somebody has to do this work, or the soldiers could not fight!
And whatever work is given a man, is good if he does it right.

We are the army stevedores, and we are volunteers.
We did not wait for the draft to come, to put aside our fears;
We flung them away on the winds of fate, at the very first call of our land,
And each of us offered a willing heart and the strength of a brawny hand.
We are the army stevedores, and work as we must and may,
The cross of honour will never be ours to proudly wear away.

But the men at the Front could never be there,
And the battles could not be won,
If the stevedores stopped in their dull routine
And left their work undone.
Somebody has to do this work, be glad that it isn't you!
We are the army stevedores-give us our due!

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Epitaph On An Army of Mercenaries

These, in the day when heaven was falling,
The hour when earth's foundations fled,
Followed their mercenary calling
And took their wages and are dead.

Their shoulders held the sky suspended;
They stood, and earth's foundations stay;
What God abandoned, these defended,
And saved the sum of things for pay.

poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Grafted Into the Army

Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent,
they have grafted him into the Army,
he finally puckered up courage and went,
when they grafted him into the Army.
I told them the child was too young, alas!
At the captains forequarters, they said he would pass,
they'd train him up well in the Infantry class,
so they grafted him into the Army.

Oh, Jimmy, farewell! Your brothers fell way down in Alabammy;
I though they would spare a lone widder's heir,
but they grafted him into the Army.

Dressed up in his unicorn, dear little chap,
they have grafted him into the Army;
it seems but a day since he sot in my lap,
but they grafted him into the Army.
And these are the trousies he used to wear,
them very same buttons, the patch and the tear;
but Uncle Sam gave him a bran' new pair
when they grafted him into the Army.

Now in my provisions I see him revealed,
they have grafted him into the Army;
a picket beside the contented field,
they have grafted him into the Army.
He looks kinder sickish -- begins to cry,
a big volunteer standing right in his eye!
Oh, what if the ducky should up and die,
now they've grafted him into the Army.

poem by Henry Clay Work
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Lucifer (in answer to N. P. van Wyk Louw)

Thus he rebelled without anyone stopping him,
wanted to put up his throne above, at times
equal to that of the almighty Creator
and approached others for this goal,
felt at times that his jealousy was noble
where he stood at the edge of the precipice
and thunder flashed ominous around him.

He dragged a third of once holy ones along
to all at once squander their lives,
joy, virtue and nobility
and along with them
later missed the glory, peace and love
of the heavens and knew
that he (the flaming son of the morning)
is trivial to the Most High (who is always honourable)
could not even stand in His shade
and through stars, he had torn, through the heavens
to declare war, as in his heart he wanted to win
as if insanity was eating through every reason and sensibility
and had destroyed his nobility.

When he stood alone in front of Michael and thunderbolts,
suns and comets was thrown at him
at supreme command, he new pain and misery
was banned from heaven, with all of his rebellious team
was crackled down in flames
and in his heart he had to admit that it was just,
that he could not give life to anything
and could not comprehend or have love anymore,
as might, his splendour,
his own power had overwhelm him
and then he could still fall on his knees and beg for mercy

but he was far too proud for it
and he wanted to take revenge on the Almighty One
where he cunningly deceived man
and got some more victims for his own punishment
but for man God himself came to pay the price,
Lucifer was convinced that death on the cross
was the end of God, as God had become man,
in his heart Lucifer thought that he had won
and when God rose staying available for man
Lucifer could still not comprehend or explain love
or what it is to as God have the power to life.

[Reference: Lucifer by N.P. van Wyk Louw.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Moral Questions Trace Monopoly Debt

1 trillion dollars
per year spent tax dollars
on oil death wars

destruction by bombs missiles
guns tanks submarines ships
helicopters planes nukes mines

include monopoly pieces
ace in hole cards assassins
mercenaries prisons spies

torture chambers
dictator-supporters
killed for silences

war on terror allies
expired use terminates
to hide dark secrets

as statue of liberty heirs
to corrupt Rome Empires
attempt to rule countries

covertly unleashed assassins
CIA FBI mercenary team assassins
across the world tag hit races

hunt down kill target voices
waging war in Libya decreases
time to acquire new selections

poem by Terence George Craddock
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you are right Bodoy

you are right about your song of the armalite
and its baby
you are realistic about the power of ammunitions
these bullets of the times
these domestic wars
fought between us
brothers
and
countrymen

the widows weep, the children are lost,
some strangers look for their bags of clothes
others for their arms and legs
others lose their senses

while on the negotiating tables
the sponsors of the war
are drawing the lines
in bold strokes
in percentages: how much goes to the supplier
of the armalite
and the baby armalite
how much goes to the mercenaries and the soldiers in the field
how much goes to the brokers
the spokesmen

and how about the civilians
those who lose their loved ones

you are right Bodoy
there is nothing for them
except perhaps his lousy poem

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why This World Exists (In Answer To Louis Esterhuizen)

From the moment that I could think
I was wondering why this world does exist,
man is born in a place
where everything goes to destruction and decay?

What kind of God creates a place
where there is pain, suffering and hardship
where catastrophe at times hit mercilessly
as if every thing is going into damnation and darkness?

Some faiths believe that man
reincarnates over and over,
to in the end become part of a god,
have got to live though this desolation time and again.

Only the Christian faith declares
why our world is in this state,
about a almighty God who comes, to take up man’s guilt
with a salvation plan and how its going to end.

If you read the holy Bible carefully,
it’s clear that Lucifer was created perfectly,
that out of his own will he wanted to be equal to God,
he wanted to stop worshipping God.

When he broke the law
he created the biggest crisis in the universe
persuading other angels to act in rebellion,
where Michael (who is like God)
and his angels defended the heaven.

At that moment God could have wiped out Lucifer
and his followers instantaneously
but then everyone would serve Him out of fear and not out of love
and his Godly character did not even consider that possibility
whereupon He made a plan to solve this problem eternally.

God exists from eternity and is without a beginning,
through Jesus Christ, God created the world, by His own hands formed man
in the image of God and blew into him the breath of life,
He created man as two sexes, as man and woman.

Man was instructed to multiply,
to bring forth a own life in his image, to bring forth children,
to rule over the earth, the animals, birds and fishes
and everything was perfect in the whole earth, in every single thing.

It was then that God started the thing called time,
determining a period of time in which sin has got to abate,
where man as ruler had to lie down laws,
had to eat from the fruit of the earth,

proving to the universe that God is only love,
that dominion demands just laws,
going to the meaning
that the creation came from love.

No angels have ever been ordered to multiply
or to reign, Satan wanted to rule,
wanted to receive worship and become a god,
used his opportunity to lead man into darkness

saying in deception as he still does, that man will get knowledge
will become like God and will not die
and man had then lost his glory
(so as if the master of darkness could bring light)

and in free will man chose,
where his choice had an impact on everything,
even cursing his descendants to a damned world
but God came to place Himself in man’s place

and many people believe that I am only telling a myth here,
but my almighty Lord Jesus Christ lives.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Shot At Dawn

Those deaths a shameful memory
Shot at dawn for cowardice.
Almost unbelievably
Young soldiers paid the final price.

They died because they chose to lie.
About their age to volunteer.
The normal rules did not apply.
Research has made it very clear.

That the army bears the blame.
That proof exists they can't deny.
To their everlasting shame.
They did not try to verify.

The age of youthful volunteers.
Although they could and should have done.
I'm sad to say that it appears
They rarely checked on anyone.

The generals and the brigadiers.
Did not care apparently.
That mere schoolboys of tender years.
Were enlisted readily.

To take the place of fighting men.
Already fallen to the foe.
They had to fill the ranks again.
So they pretended not to know.

How many shell shocked boys were shot.
Accused of being cowardly.
The brass hats knew but they dare not
Admit their failings openly.

The Great War ended long ago.
The guilty men have long since died.
But now at least the people know.
Despite the fact the army tried.

To hide the truth but they could not.
New evidence has come to light.
Which proves that shell shocked boys were shot.
Because they could no longer fight.

We understand shell shock today.
Much better than they did back then.
We view the world a different way.
We know that stress can cripple men.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Unwanted Greed

Black orbs project the dead sea
The last remnants of the lost prophecy
Mercenaries seeking their claim to fame
Destroying the ashe's of a once good name
Greed is their lust, good intentions slowly rust
With each child born with evil's shame
Darkness engulfs the sky and the saved cry
As the reveled presence claims it prize
Hungry for eternity, tattoed with mortality
Their trust in nature deceiving
Not realizing their thoughts misleading
Anything to gain forever
The greed pushes with all its power
Its domain now belonging to the prowler
The leader places the crown atop his head
His veins swell and tears are shed
Screaming out in agony, he throws it the grown
But its far too late, his nature will lead to the grave
The crowns thorns have pricked his head
The bleeding intensifies his eyes turn red
Someone so bad wanted to be the christ
But when they felt his pain the weak soul quickly died
Generations from now will even seek the power
But the consequenes from the deed will not ponder
We are not put here to play god
As the many will find out
Their souls are lost

poem by Lance Carthen
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Finally I Know Who My Enemy Is...

i am armored
on my hand is the sharpest sword
i am ready for battle
to kill the enemies

your enemies

when i am about to win
and stab the victim
you are there running
towards me
asking that i be forgiving

your enemies are spared
and they all laugh at me

my armor is rusty now
my sword not as sharp as i
once held it

now you have enemies again
asking that i go to battle

who are you? i am not stupid anymore.
Use other mercenaries

and if there is now
Go, fight yourself, and have yourself killed

so i can offer you flowers
for the dead
so i can for once rest and smile
and tell myself

i am free and i work for no one anymore.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Evil Army

Caught between what i want. And what i don't want to let go. A tease. A taste so sweet. Where should we meet. How about half way. trying to make everything okay. Shes still chasing my heart. But it has been lost. While pandora's box was opened. Secrets kill. Playing the game with one thing in mind. I got souls to steal. Breaking into heaven with a lier, a cheat, a thief. An evil army, my evil army. A cult of fantasy. A sexing orgy. A slumber of misery. Pull away. Get in their face. Show them your ready to race. It mine, all mine. Selfish to the last drop. Theirs poison in the water and i wont drink from it. Try to make me, try to break me. You wont change me. Oh no, I'm needed to lead an army. Breaking into heaven with a lier, a cheat, a thief. An evil army, my evil army. Sick thoughts run my head. As the blood is shed. Pure hatred is like sunlight under a magnify glass on my skin. Oh how its burning. War was declared, as smoke filled the air. Oh i need oxygen just to breath. Something choking me that i cant see. The sun rises then falls. My plans dont change or wane. I must lead an army. Breaking into heaven with a lier, a cheat, thief. An evil army, my evil army. Oh it my all mine, my evil army. Baking as I'm waking. Hot on the outside, cold on the inside. Stop trying to feel, what ain't real. Its mask, just f*ck me over. Come on now's your chance. Lets dance toe to toe. Put on a show, and i will still go. Doesn't matter what was written in the snow. Lust turns to dust. the rust comes off. Sorry but i must lead army. Breaking into heaven with a lier, a cheat, a thief. An evil army. Its my evil army. We will destroy you.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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An Argument

IT is like our guns.
We do not need it
to kill,
killing is not at all times
illegal,
self-defense for instance
our way of defending ourselves
from the assassins
the hired killers and the
mercenaries of
modern times,

the law on divorce for
instance
who likes a divorce?
you do not marry only
to think that
you have to be separated
from the one you love
someday

but there comes a time
when you need it
and you cannot use it
because it
is not there

and you will regret
not allowing it in the system

just like a condom
who likes a condom?
it is a wall between us
our flesh not touching
each other

but there are times
when you need it
because there is that need
and you have to be safe

who needs guns, condoms,
divorce?
it a matter of choice
so bring them in,
let the man in his wisdom
choose
let him be responsible

there is nothing human more
than us
who can deny
the options available in this world
it is fair
make all these available
so when you need them
you can avail of
them

let the options be myriad
for in all these activities of choices
or choosing
we become more
human
and even more divine
in what we really want to become....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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