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On the Killing Fields

I did not learn from books
About the horrors of war
I was soaked in them
On the killing fields
Amid exploding shells
Frightened and savage.

I did not watch movies
To see dead bodies
Lying on green meadows
I saw them with my own eyes
The raging fires
The engulfing flames
In the blazing tanks.

The sun was shining
It was a balmy
And beautiful day
As the summer wind carried
The nauseating smell
Of the burning flesh
Across gentle hills.

poem by Paul Hartal
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I Got You

I've got you, and that's all I want.
I won't forget, 'cause that's a whole lot.
When something's wrong, I feel uneasy.
You show me, tell me you're not teasin'.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
Look at you, you're a pageant.
You're everything that I've imagined.
I don't go out, now that you're here.
Sometimes we shout, but that's no problem.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
There's no doubt, but when I'm with you.
When I'm without, I stay in my room.
Where do you go? I get no answer.
You're always out, it gets on my nerves...
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying

song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Books Are Burning

Books are burning
In the main square, and I saw there
The first eating the text
Books are burning
In the still air
And you know where they burn books
People are next
I believe the printed word should be forgiven
Doesnt matter what it said
Wisdom hotline from the dead back to the living
Key to the larder for your heart and head
Books are burning
In our own town, watch us turn round
And cast our glances elsewhere
Books are burning
In the playground
Smell of burnt book is not unlike human hair
I believe the printed word is more than sacred
Beyond the gauge of good or bad
The human right to let your soul fly free and naked
Above the violence of the fearful and sad
The church of matches
Anoints in ignorance with gasoline
The church of matches
Grows fat by breathing in the smoke of dreams
Its quite obscene
Books are burning
More each day now, and I pray now
You boys will tire of these games
Books are burning
I hope somehow, this will allow
A phoenix up from the flames

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The havoc of war

a Smoking and burning
enemy battle tank
stands stopped in its tracks,
like a metal coffin
with its occupants
still hatched in.

a BRDM enemy armoured car
is encased by leaping flames
and the phosphoric burning smell
is churning in my guts.

Some dead Cuban soldiers lay
cut from the stem
mangled in blood and guts
and the machinegun is still chattering
and I wish to be,
in another place and time
than to be a part
of this slaughtering.

a Bleating Gemsbok rushes past
trying to outrun the flames,
that leap through the field
while the machines of war
brings death to the living.

Shot after shot is fired
at killing range
and it’s hot and deafening
inside the Ratel,
but the wind
brushes through my hair
where I stand
in the top hatch
and trees and bushes
sweep past
as if screened in a movie house.

Enemy armour keeps exploding
and my voice sounds strange
and unfamiliar to me,
while I give directions
for the next killing.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green Grasses

Green beautiful grasses
Where lands the butterflies
Green grasshoppers just hopped
Greedily shining beautifully to be alive
Looking deeply in ones gazing eyes
And don't know how to say goodbye
Or tell ones flesh never to smile freely
With these green grasses
That smiles with a dog tooth
For flesh makes grasses ever green.

Green beautiful grasses
Just doesn't feel right
Growing on a burial ground
Across ones head
Having no yesterday,
And no to-morrow.
Forgetting thoughts, taught, time
Forgetting fortune, life and love
Lying at peace
With grasses growing all over ones head

Green beautiful grasses
Where I lay when I rise to the morning sun
Stretching legs during the burning ray
Forgetting about death or life
Feeling an angel
Angels cherish a background
Looking so beautiful,
A sight to see
A scene to show
How deep is a love….

written by: Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2012

poem by Onyekachukwu Vincent Onyeche
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Fire On the Ridge

In the west there is fearsome fire in the hills.
Full of dread, the people watch as flames burn upon the ridge.
Fierce winds fan the fury where the fires singe.
Meanwhile there’s hot air blasting forth from high upon the hill,
Pointless wind aimed at stirring some futile acts of men.
Strong winds fan the flames.
Embers ignite the blaze again.
While homes are lost across the land,
A burning night gives way to the dawn of restless men.
Rhetoric fails to charm while flames move across the land.
Fires burn readily across dry mountaintops.
Drought’s danger seeps down the slopes.
Now the valley too is brown and the pastures parched.
Wherever stray embers fall, fires will catch and burn
Until nowhere can they be stopped.
Will anything escape the flames fanned by these raging relentless winds?

The firemen grow weary,
They know neither sleep nor rest.
All their wisdom and efforts fail to meet the fires growing test.
They seek the help of younger men to aid them in the night,
But none can hear or heed the call; they are ensnared in some other fight.
The chief in command stands out of touch safe on the distant hill.
Insulated from the desperate fight, no fires will he end.
People in the valley see him perched emotionless and still.
If he even has a plan from this distance they can’t tell.
They fear for the safety of those who fight and for their own as well.
They fear the loss of all they love and treasure beyond price.
The fields once waved golden and valleys were lush with finest fruits.
The harvest, which they toiled toward, is in peril of being lost.
Will fires claim the victory and devour all they cherish?
Or will they rise against the blaze, fighting fire with fire, before they perish?
Through night a western ridge stays lit, while across this land no one dare now rest.

poem by Mary Havran
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Seasons Unite

The rain falls, the snow storms
The gods unleash their wrath
The summer comes, sunlight swarms
Fairies of magic laugh
The green of leaves forsakes now
Before to be exchanged with gray
Before the king of winter bow
And begin your wish to say
As autumn falls upon us
And we wait for a sign
Waiting for the cold to pass
Absorb it if we can
To warmth I lust
The swan song of a man
For all you believers
This darkness I make mine
The freeze sends it's shivers
Up and down my spine
Seasons unite, shining above my eyes
The heat soon brings desire
Burning my veins like fire
The truth is actually a lie
I watch my self burning higher
Flesh to flesh we bind
Yours is winter and summer is mine
Could this be the end of the line
Or a beginning (that shall) eternally shine

song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somewhere Near The Lomba River

The guns of enemy tanks are flashing
like bolts of thunder while I am glancing,
the night air is full of the smell of cordite
and luckily those shots are passing

while the armoured car draws to a sudden halt
for its gun to take aim and on my lips I taste salt
before the armour piercing shell is fired
and at a direct hit around me the crew exalt

before at speed we move on
and some more enemy Cuban soldiers are gone,
are burnt in the fiery hell
while my heart, my brain feels like stone.

An enemy shell strikes another armoured car
like a exploding flaming star
and I can smell torched human flesh,
while I wish to be away very far,

to be away from killing
and this chilling
kind of machination of machines and men
who at each other are firing

but to survive we battle on right through the night,
are still trying to find some more enemies in the broad daylight,
find two abounded stationary pristine enemy battle tanks
from which the enemy had run in fright.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A War Raging On

There's a war raging on
Though I know not where
There are people fighting
Though they do not care
Soldiers are fighting
Mothers are crying
Fathers are preaching
For their sons are dying,
For their is a war killing
And no one really cares.

There's bullets shooting
As I see the guns loading
And there's planes flying
For I feel the bombs exploding,
I see war and I see blood
And death upon the sand
There's hunger and death
I still see in His hand,
For there's people killing
As I see the blood flowing.

There's soldiers marching
For I hear them coming
The killing is flowing
For I see the children running,
There are people being shot
Poets getting caught
Murderers being sought
Lessons again being taught,
For there is a war raging
As the soldiers are hunting.

There is a war coming
For I hear the horns blowing
There is more killing coming
For I see the hate growing,
Children are getting killed
Burying bombs in the fields
Land is being destroyed
Mountains are becoming hills,
For there is a war coming
For I see the hate showing.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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A Memory Of A Red Strawberry

remember me as summer
better still a refreshing summer wind
from a green mountain
remember me as summer
summer strawberry
red, red strawberries
from your fingers to your
mouth to your tongue
sweet, sour, and luscious,
remember me, better remember me
as summer, wind, green mountain,
strawberry, red and luscious
staying in the grassy fields of your
heart and mind

remember me as past summer wind
as a mountain gone, as grass wilting,
as strawberry consumed
each flesh digested all within

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode (in ancient metric) [Odă (în metru antic]

Well, I never thought I would learn to die;
Always young and wrapped in my heavy cloak,
I was looking up to the shining star
Of sad loneliness.

When I saw you there, right in front of me,
O, you misery, aching, but so sweet...
I drank bottoms up the delight of death
Cold and merciless.

I am burning now and like Nessus grieve
Or like Hercules, poisoned by his coat;
But my raging flames cannot be put out
Even by the sea.

And I am consumed only by my dream,
Melting on the stake scalded by the fire...
Could I ever rise shining out of it,
Like the Phoenix bird?

May her wistful eyes go away from me.
Sad indifference, come back to my chest;
I want to become, just to die in peace,
Who I was before!

poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by Octavian Cocoş
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That Summer

I went to work for her that summer
A teenage kid so far from home
She was a lonely widow woman
Hell-bent to make it on her own
We were a thousand miles from nowhere
Wheat fields as far as I could see
Both needing something from each other
Not knowing yet what that might be.
til she came to me one evening
Hot cup of coffee and a smile
In a dress that I was certain
She hadnt worn in quite a while
There was a difference in her laughter
There was a softness in her eyes
And on the air there was a hunger
Even a boy could recognize.
She had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lovers eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night.
That summer wind was all around me
Nothing between us but the night
When I told her that Id never
She softly whispered thats alright
And then I watched her hands of leather
Turn to velvet in a touch
Theres never been a summer
When I have ever learned so much.
We had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lovers eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night.
I often think about that summer
The sweat, the moonlight and the lace
And I have rarely held another
When I havent seen her face
And every time I pass a wheat field
And watch it dancing with the wind
Although I know it isnt real
I swear inside I feel
Her hungry arms again.
She had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lovers eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night.
Rushing in long in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burnin both ends of the night

song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hunting Humans (Lyrics)

Upon this threshold of disaster
The birth of the eleventh plague
The fires burn at night, I begin to doubt the smell of burning flesh
Will ever fade away

The touch of death is all around us
A thousand corpses block our way
A man-made germ makes almost everyone commit suicide
Just to rise and eat their dead
Night of the living Dead...

We're hunting humans
We're hunting humans
We're hunting humans
It's killing time every evening

I can't control this eerie feeling
An evil screaming in my head
I don't think I'll last the night
There is no cure
For this genocide
Or resurrection of the dead
Night of the living Dead...

We're hunting humans...

poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Castles Burning

Jimmy wanted her the moment that she stumbled his way
With a cocktail in her hand, she knew how shed win the game
There were beautiful in all the right places
She keeps her rendezvous with soup opera faces
She started rumors that were driving him crazy
He couldnt stop the things theyd say
And they live for, passion, love and pain
In a rage of jealousy and fame
And they watch their dreams go up on flames
Castles burning... in the dead of night
Castles burning... in the dead of night
Wo... burnin...
In the kingdom of pretenders love is not what it seems
Jimmy cried and then he punished her
No one heard her scream
On the outside, its all crimson and clover
On the inside, they know its over
And the band of lawyers that steal the show
As they watch their world go up in smoke
Castles burning... in the dead of night
Castles burning... in the dead of night
Wo... burnin... burnin... burnin... burnin...
(spoken words)
When we return a story of a 5 alarm fire
Late last night in the prestigious hollywood hills
Where one of the most controversial marriages in the
Entertainment industry went up in smoke, arson is suspected
It is still under investigation...
You know I love you, you know youre my girl,
Id never hurt you... no
Castles burning... in the dead of night
Castles burning... in the dead of night
Burnin... burnin
All is fair in love and war, but war is hell...
In the heart of the night, in the middle of the big bad city

song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hear Guitars a' Calling

I hear guitars a' calling in the gloaming's final fling
When sinking suns relay their flames to fairies on the wing
Igniting one by one the jewels of midnight's diamond blaze
As day becomes a yawning ash beneath a starry gaze.

I hear guitars a' calling from the clouds within the skies,
With tunes which flow as purple drops from sad and weepy eyes
Of silent speaking troubled souls who stand alone in grief,
But hold the vastness of the stars within a trembling leaf.

I hear guitars a' calling from the beat beneath her breast,
The murmur throbs of passion and a sensuous unrest
That rumbles deep in silent woods before the raging storm
And splits the air in morning meadows bursting green with corn.

I hear guitars a' calling in the gentle splashing rain,
Which summons with a soothing purr upon my window pane
And conjures up a childhood dream within a vagrant breeze
Entwining me in cryptic webs of misty vortices.

I hear guitars a' calling from the waves on distant shores;
They're crashing out their monody upon the mystic oars
Of phantom ships within the dawn and midnight caravels,
A' sail on seas of raven wings to moonlit citadels.

I hear guitars a' calling in the morning's reveilles;
They're pouring fires in the skies and burning up the seas,
While waking flowers in the fields and setting trees ablaze,
And closing one by one the eyes of midnight's starry gaze.

I hear guitars a' calling from the deserts of my mind;
They're howling of a hollow land adrift on empty time
Where pathless sands are blazing hot, the sun is standing high,
A thirsting dog is barking faint' with tongue that's long and dry.

poem by Terry O'Leary
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Rat 6

do you remember
rice fields? try imagining
the green rice fields,
put some hills
more hills, and put a gap
between two hills,
and put the sun
shining brightly
and then put some black
buffaloes grazing at the
foot of the hills,
and then on the left side
try putting a nipa hut
a window and a little girl
looking out for sparrows
and on the right side
put the running river and
a jumping fish

do you still think that this
could be your home?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You

You are my enslavement and my freedom
You are my flesh burning like a raw summer night
You are my country
You are the green silks in hazel eyes
You are big, beautiful and triumphant
And you are my sorrow that isn't felt
the more I feel it.

poem by Nazim Hikmet
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Visions pt2-Torment (Visions Inferno)

I opened my eyes only to see
Destruction and horror in front of me
The searing hot wind forced me to squint
What waited ahead, I dare not think
Dark clouds up high were victims of death
The air smelled of nothing but rotting flesh
I must take this path to make my way home
Wading through blood and stepping on bones

I heard the screams and wails of dead
Bodies moved about without need of a head
A hand tore at my arms, then at my face
I looked in some glass, they were all ablaze
The burning was nothing I could describe
In one, two, or forty lifetimes
Terror and fear is all that was furnished
But I must press on out of this furnace

I felt hatred and anguish surround me
And greed and lust trying to bound me
I’m amazed that my heart kept beating
Through all the violent, deafening shrieking
There was an endless war that was raging
With no signs of stopping, no time for aging
As I left, my shadow gave me a pat
To put out the flames
And keep me from looking back

poem by P.R. Prosper
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What You Get

The machines of metal is driven by war, the gears are turning into the most gruesome of fears - Nuclear destruction by the hands of men, over and over, again and again - Bombs which litter the clear blue skies, fatherless children to the innocent which dies - Hate is bred by the lack of respect, the lack of respect is the hate which is bred - Armies of the damned bleeds on the blood soaked sand, burning fires flames on this savage land - Victory is signalled by the bones of the dead, what you read is the lies told, the truth will not be told and will never be said - When blood flows rivers red, death is true and that is what you get

poem by Unic Cjonr
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Day Gone By

The clouds floating,
Like a lazy summer day.
The silver reflections,
Glitter and light my eyes.

The blue clear and bright,
The colour rich with promise.
The clouds gentle now,
As the summer storm has passed.

The day done.
The hours and minutes gone.
I feel the green of the leaves,
In this balmy summer's eve.

(Bolton, UK. Tuesday 26 June 2007)

poem by Champaben Mistry
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The Killing Fields

Oh the lives that come and go
as the years go by
are taken by the sons of others
on the fields where they die.
Brother against brother
killing one another,
don't we wonder why?
Generation after generation
never seem to learn
that the killing fields are red with blood
as the wheels of life just turn.

The fields of the lands are meant for life
filled with so much joy.
Instead, those fields have fallen quiet
with each and every boy
that became intent on the quest for death
on the killing fields.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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