Man tried to outreach the Lord of Evil himself
Out of the ash
flames leapt
into the air
and in the distance
the retch provoking smell
fumed in grey white clouds
higher into the black clouded sky
where death ovens
flamed up mercilessly.
Polished boots crunched
over gravel
while men in neat black uniforms
and some in grey
marched with schmeischer machine guns
at the ready in their hands.
Their faces were masked
as if in stone
with no other expression
but mocking and indifference
locked into blue eyes
and brushed blonde hair
sticking out
from under black caps
on which skulls gleamed ominous
set as machines
grinding on without
any emotion.
A small girl maybe only ten
slipped and dropped
to the ground,
where a manicured male hand
helped her gently
to her feet
and cold blue eyes
burned into her brown
and a small frown
left lines on his face
and only maybe
he would dream of her again.
Off to the showers they went,
marched by soldiers
that never saw any battle
and didn’t care,
but forcefully
sheltered them there.
Men old, some at the prime of life,
boys teenage to very small,
old grannies, women mature,
beautiful girls and some only kids
to be de-verminated for sure.
Shaved to the skull,
their hair braided into boots
possessions taken from them
soap to be fried from their bodies,
gold from their teeth
and rings from their fingers
glittering evil in the dim sun
and when the doors closed
behind them
cyanide dropped like white fog
from the air
with a almond smell
and soldiers laughed
while they twisted in agony
as if it really wasn’t happening
and they were only watching
a horrific show
and man tried to outreach
the Lord of Evil himself.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Peace
Peace is white
White be, a dove, a flag
High snow, higher clouds, higher more twinklings
White is tranquil, honarable, reliable, honest and decent
But white is dubious too
As the sparklings dotted in black sky
And black is immoral, bad, evil and sorrow
Yet black is utile too
Like these writings on peaceful white
White is the most sought
As wite is peace disliking conflicts
Yet peace is stuck with wars 'cause
Providence eventuates agitating criminal energy
Beyond love and hate, pain and pleasure
Hidden in is peace special
An exclusive providence unknowing to create evil
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Black and White (Stream XV)
I have black thoughts,
It is a black day,
A day when the black dog
Coal black, hovers at my shoulder.
I shoulder the burden.
Deep in the black hole.
Black as a black hearted night.
Negative.
Stark.
Black and white.
I do not call my good days white days.
Why?
Or have white thoughts
On a white day,
When the white dog
Pure white sits upon my shoulder.
Which is unburdened.
Out of the pit,
Luxuriating in the bright white light;
White as the purest snow.
Positive.
For we live in a too white world
Maybe we should have grey days,
And light days.
Why should Black be negative and White poitive?
For me then, today is a grey day.
Maybe tomorrow will be a light day.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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The Night-Fire
No engines shrieking rescue storm the night,
And hose and hydrant cannot here avail;
The flames laugh high and fling their challenging light,
And clouds turn gray and black from silver-pale.
The fire leaps out and licks the ancient walls,
And the big building bends and twists and groans.
A bar drops from its place; a rafter falls
Burning the flowers. The wind in frenzy moans.
The watchers gaze, held wondering by the fire,
The dwellers cry their sorrow to the crowd,
The flames beyond themselves rise higher, higher,
To lose their glory in the frowning cloud,
Yielding at length the last reluctant breath.
And where life lay asleep broods darkly death.
poem by Claude McKay
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That Smell
Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars
Oak tree you're in my way
There's too much coke and too much smoke
Look what's going on inside you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Angel of darkness is upon you
Stuck a needle in your arm
So take another toke, have a blow for your nose
One more drink fool, will drown you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Now they call you Prince Charming
Can't speak a word when you're full of 'ludes
Say you'll be all right come tomorrow
But tomorrow might not be here for you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Hey, you're a fool you
Stick them needles in your arm
I know I been there before
One little problem that confronts you
Got a monkey on your back
Just one more fix, Lord might do the trick
One hell of a price for you to get your kicks
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
song performed by by 3 Doors Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turning White Into Black
Deep inside their strong stubborn skulls,
and ev’n in their glitt’ring eyeballs,
they really know that black is black,
no way white will be black –
ev’n when they attempt to burn it to black,
its ashes cannot be black but grey.
But for the thirty silv’rs they want to receive,
they, from their basket mouths that can nev’r
hold on a dropp of wat’r,
say that white is not white but dark black.
Lies are now their Messiah here,
and their odour are their John, the forerunner;
Justice but their Israelites in Egypt!
Their hands are cloth’d with mess,
making all their body smell shit, shit of lies:
in the scept’r, it is there;
in the cross, it is there,
not ev’n our homes are spar’d of this mess.
They know that white is white,
for their eyes are not blind;
neith’r are they, themselves, confus’d,
but their greedy mouths have made it so,
turning justice to injustice!
poem by Eche Ononukwe
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Clouded Mind
I try to think of other things but my mind clouded.
Clouded with the smell of her hair;
The sensation of her touch;
The sparkle in her eyes,
and the taste of her sweat when a passionate moment arises.
As I said I try think of other things but I can't.
She clouds my mind.
The grey monotony of winter
Winter, these days,
reminds me of grey and orange,
of faded mosses and polished stones,
of icy sheen and black sheer,
of falling white leaves and winter flowers,
of the torquiosire sky and fading sunlight,
the dusty windows now covered with snow,
Its the grey monotony of winter that I love!
poem by Amatulla Mohammadi
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What The Captain Said
They made the fire so they want it to spread
the fire, the fire, the fire
They fan the flame to the forest bed
and the flames grew
higher, and higher, and higher
Remember what the captain said by the oceanside
where we took our ride
'We want no more soldiers dead, so come see us by the fire; '
Prometheus desire, the fire
by the fire, as the flames grow higher
We lay upon our riverbed, upon the Styx
the mosh pit Styx upon the pyre
Eyes wide, quartered dry, heads to the sky
and they watch the flames grow higher, and higher,
the fire
poem by Jay Bradley
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Incendiary
Combined chemical cocktail flares awake,
Causing caliginous clouds to touch the skies,
Heated haze thickens into concentrate,
Of yellow, red and orange blaze surprise.
My vision opaque from soot black plumed smoke,
Which rises and mingles with the midnight,
As I fall to my knees, to gasp and choke,
Hands wrapped around throat, grasping so tight,
Still I shuffle on, towards the staircase,
In the small hope of freedom and escape,
Sliding down each step until the base,
Is reached, here I do make out a shape,
Through rokey fumed, flamed coiled doorframe,
Collapsing after they call out my name.
poem by Dale Mullock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Smell
(allen collins - ronnie vanzant)
Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars
Oak tree youre in my way
Theres too much coke and too much smoke
Look whats going on inside you
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Angel of darkness is upon you
Stuck a needle in your arm
So take another toke, have a blow for your nose
One more drink fool, will drown you
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Now they call you prince charming
Cant speak a word when youre full of ludes
Say youll be all right come tomorrow
But tomorrow might not be here for you
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Hey, youre a fool you
Stick them needles in your arm
I know I been there before
One little problem that confronts you
Got a monkey on your back
Just one more fix, lord might do the trick
One hell of a price for you to get your kicks
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black and White and Red
Black and White
And Red I see
Demons they do
Torture me
Black and White
And Red all day
The voices are real
Or so they say
Black and White
And Red abound
I'm lost I call
I'm never found
Black and White
And Red flow out
I scream but you
Don't hear me shout
Black and White
And Red so bright
Exit blood and
Enter light
Black and White
And Red of death
Now I breathe
My final breath
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Aperu
Forward ever ascending on a stairway to heaven
Me and the children and mama make seven
My senses take over as we start to float
Higher and higher on a huge starbound boat
Forward ever ascending, our head in the clouds
I watch as the dolphins tear off all their shrouds
Your head is a halo, it catches the light
As i enter the gates what a glorious sight
Over and over and over and over, over and over and over we go
Over and over and over and over
Higher and higher and higher and higher
Higher and higher on a big black starliner
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heat theory of emotions!
Emotion has the temperature,
That can go higher and lower,
In the presence of the loved and the loving,
The temperature and pressure are regular,
The palpitation gives the pleasure,
The legs floats softly in the delightful air,
All mistakes of any kind look pettier,
The love spring is active with sprinkler,
The noisy atmosphere may be quieter,
When the emotional temperature is higher,
A small provoking will increase the pressure,
The hearts pound quicker than ever,
The emotion will reach the boiling point,
To whistle not stop if it is kept in a kettle,
To spill over if it is kept in the open container,
To scald the human mercilessly with the steamer,
Dissipating the heat and pressure,
will save us from being an abuser or a loser.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Widow's Lament in Springtime
Sorrow is my own yard
where the new grass
flames as it has flamed
often before but not
with the cold fire
that closes round me this year.
Thirtyfive years
I lived with my husband.
The plumtree is white today
with masses of flowers.
Masses of flowers
load the cherry branches
and color some bushes
yellow and some red
but the grief in my heart
is stronger than they
for though they were my joy
formerly, today I notice them
and turn away forgetting.
Today my son told me
that in the meadows,
at the edge of the heavy woods
in the distance, he saw
trees of white flowers.
I feel that I would like
to go there
and fall into those flowers
and sink into the marsh near them.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Beyond enemy lines
Above me there’s an onyx sky
and the tarry night is fading fast
and I hear the roar
of enemy armour
and the crunching of tracks
echoes and sound very
near to me.
An electronic signal rushes
thousands of kilometres far
and goes into a night
filled with bright white stars
like a lighting bolt
falling in a dark black sky
and branching out to where
it has to go
to a place where Jacaranda trees
stand in purple bloom.
I match my wits against my fate
and crawl deeper into cover
of a thorn bush
and gird my soul to face
the enemy in war
and we lay and wait
and there are three of us
against a horde of enemy armour.
The light of dawn is still grey
and they get very near
and it’s a thundering sound
when the first tanks
and armoured cars appear
like hungry dragons
coming to the feast.
I look up in an indigo sky
and eagles and vultures
bend down out of the sun
and descend in deadly haste
transforming into Cheetah
and Mirage fighter jets
and the radio
let me talk to them
and the end of life
and dire chaos
is unleashed unexpectedly.
Only the birds of prey
save me from the hate
of great steel monsters,
that is ready to squash and kill
and missile and rocket arrows
leap descending out of the air
and red and yellow flames appear.
After a while the planes of war
thunder away to the South
and the fire fades
and around us there are
upturned and destroyed wrecks
of man’s war machines
and a slaughtering of humans
and the smell of death
cuts right through my breath,
as if it wants to engulf
and I retch and feel inhuman
and my comrades smile bravely
and say very well done
and around me
all other life is gone,
but for the three of us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Thursday Afternoon
Her life is a show
One act follows the other everywhere she goes
She takes the leading role
She never plays herself
Save for the time shes on the stage
Color her black or white
Now either one reflects the teardrops
One extreme for the other
Nothing in between
Color her white for the princess she could be
Color her black for the troubled child she plays so well
Well shes dancing through hell on a dream
And blue is soul of the one
Reaching for the man that she hasnt got yet
And holding on to those hearts for lost causes
She could be so bright
But shes reaching for us all
Color her blue for the loneliness she feels
Shes hiding her heart in the sky
And this is a thursday afternoon
Its just another thursday afternoon
Its just another thursday afternoon
Color me grey
Im a little bit of everything today
And Im not sure just where Im going
Color me grey
Wishing I was something more of distinction
Color us all cause were just stars
Wishing our lives away
Into the distance
And out of existence
Color her black or white
Color her blue
Or color me grey
Color us all - were stars
Wishing our lives away
Now were stars
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Final Painting
The white cloud passed over the land
there is sea always round the land
the sky is blue always above the cloud
the cloud in the blue continues to move
- nothing is limited by the canvas or frame -
the white cloud can be pictured like any
other clouds or like a fist of wool
or a white fur rose
The white cloud passes a shadow across
the landscape and so there is a passing greyness
The grey and the white both envelop
the watcher until he too is drawn into the picture
It is all a journey from a room through a door
down stairs and out into the street
The cloud could possess the house
The watchers have a mutual confidence
with the approaching string of white clouds
It is beyond spoken words what they are
silently mouthing to the sky
There was no mystery in this - only the firm
outline of people in overcoats on a hillside
and the line of clouds above them
The sky is blue The cloud white with touches
of grey - the rest - the landscape below -
can be left to the imagination
The whole painting quietly dissolved itself
into its surrounding clouds
poem by Lee Harwood
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I Like Smells
i like smells...
woodsmoke, and food,
black coffee in the morning.
the smell of rain,
of mud, of wetness.
the smell of the walls
of the cave, of the stone,
of the moss...
the smell of sex, of arousal,
of a woman's neck.
the smell of pine needles,
of an old house,
of fresh turned earth...
the smell of old books,
of old dogs, of shadows
without form...
i've even become accustomed
to the smell of death!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Black and White
My world is black and white,
The colors I see is black and white,
Hold me tight,
Don’t let me go,
See the tears I have cried,
Listen to my cry,
Look into my eyes,
My world is black and white,
Cut my wrist,
Black my eyes,
Blacken these thoughts I think of,
Black and white is all I can see,
The tears is all I can feel,
Feel me fading away,
Watching myself falling apart,
Look deep into my eyes,
Can you see me,
Can you feel the pain I feel,
I don’t understand why I am feeling this sad,
All the moments that once we shared has faded away like others have,
I never did tried to see the beyond the black and white clouds,
I need to face what I have become,
I need to find my way back,
The black and white is all I can see and feel,
My world has been black and white.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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