You Cause This War
you, the unknown planted all the mines.
you invented this war and exploded your bombs.
Inside myself, i am war torn. I am the child
running away, and then my brain spilled on
the pavement. My arms are no longer connected
to my hands.
you created this scenario. Blood and amputated legs.
armored cars and nuclear powered planes.
Black clouds. Red sunsets. Flickering nights.
Mushrooms in space. Fireflies without fire.
you draw violence. you paint abandons.
you instill fear. You brushed havoc on the clean canvass
of humanity.
you committed genocide, and hate and classifications.
then you tell me, this is it, and that is that.
There are justifications.
Philosophies, and Ethical considerations
all from your own
point of view. The view of an eagle. The elimination of the
the earthworms. The destruction of the mountains.
The splintering of islands.
i have long disappeared. Now, you invoke my name.
To justify yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Elegance of Peace
Worn torn cities—inner city violence
Death, sorrow and misery
Feelings of discontent
Conceptualize with malcontent—
Atom bombs, nuclear holocaust
Peacemakers of the world
Man-made instrumentation of peace—
So where is the diplomacy in that?
Does it really exist—Hell No!
We speak of peace
With total annihilation
Maybe, because peace/violence
Are mirror twins of each other
Like good and evil—there is no existence without the other—
So is this the elegance of peace— that we speak of?
The peace that we envision for our children
Our ancestors created this fallacy of peace—
This ignorance of peace—created out of fear
The fear that has been nurture
Through centuries of embattlement
For the elegance of peace
The true embodiment of peace
Should not give way to mass-destruction—
Reconstruction of the mind
For the elegance of peace
Is harvested within our minds
Not within our technology—or weapons of destruction—
For Peace has been raped
Violated and reduced
To the ignorance of global insanity
This is our Elegance of Peace
OR IS IT?
Written by
Gregory E Upshaw
poem by Gregory Upshaw
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A Different Point Of View
(tennant/lowe)
----------------------------
When Im sitting so close to you
Theres only one thing that I wanna do
But I know what youre likely to say
That Im going about it the wrong way
We cant agree about anything
Where to go or even where weve been
And I know what youre likely to do
Say that Ive never cared about you
And all I wanted to say was that I love you
But you tell me now you dont believe its true
You got a different, a different
A different point of view
You got a different
Point of view
You dont believe a single word I say
If Id say black was white, youd say it was grey
But in spite of being treated this way
I still dream of you all night and day
And all I wanted to say was that I love you
But you tell me now you dont believe its true
You got a different, a different
A different point of view
You got a different
Point of view
Just this once
Just say yes
Please
Youve got a clever way of haunting me
Im never scared, but youre still daunting me
cause I know what youre likely to say
And I know that youll get your own way
And all I wanted to say was that I love you
But you tell me now you dont believe its true
You got a different, a different
A different point of view
You got a different
Point of view
You got a different, a different
A different point of view
You got a different
Point of view
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Misery Machine
Man in the front got a sinister grin, careen down highway 666
We wanna go, crush the slow, as the pitchfork bends the needles grow
My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
Were gonna ride to the abbey of the ema, to the abbey of the ema
Blood is pavement
The grill in the front is my sinister grin, bugs in my teeth make me sick sick sick
The objects may be larger than they appear in the mirror
My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
Were gonna ride to the abbey of the ema, to the abbey of the ema
Blood is pavement
When you ride youre ridden, when you ride youre ridden
I am fueled by filth and fury
Do what I will, I will hurry there, there
My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
Blood is pavement
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's Gunna Work it Out
As the bombs shattered people’s entrails
The screams of horror did not assail
Organized violence against humanity
Blood ran thru streets like frightened children
But the children are smeared all over
Freedom is not as free as War-Spilled Blood
But have no fear
God’s gunna work it out here
Women and children being brutally raped
By aids infested soldiers
Decapitation elation
War-cry copulation
Victorious assassination
But have no fear
God’s gunna work it out here
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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View From A Bridge
Written by ricky & marty wilde
View from a bridge, cant take anymore
View from a bridge, cant take anymore
I guess it all began about a year ago
Like a cheap love magazine
You know the kind you read about
And have to laugh
At the pages in between
Now I cant believe that fool inside is me
cos I just cant face the world
Ive grown to see
View from a bridge, cant take anymore
View from a bridge, cant take anymore
I saw you kissing her
I saw you making her
In the soft sheets in between
But when you turned around
I saw your eyes were fire
And you crashed out all my dreams
And like a fool I just stood there
And let it go
I should have fought right back
And let my feelings show
View from a bridge, cant take anymore
View from a bridge, cant take anymore
You sure as hell knew how
To make a fool out of me
Well you cut me down
For the things you want
And now its killing me
Ill lay it on the line now
Youre running out of time now
But then a voice said jump
And I just let go
And Im floating out in space
But then I feel your arms
And I turn around
To a ghost without a face
And I just dont know
Whats fact or fantasy
cos when I look below the bridge
I see its me
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Forgiveness Poem) An Open Battle Field
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
Controlling the masses
Just bow down.
And take it in the rear.
Watch as you lose another one you hold so dear.
Falling off the radar.
Who are you?
What are you doing here?
Is this where the poor live?
How long do you think you can survive?
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
The world is committing suicide.
Everyone just swallow your pride.
If you expect the help from others.
You got to give all you have give.
Lord in my heart let me forgive.
No matter my hated enemy.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
It is a forced occurrence.
Not as we want but as we must.
The rules of greed.
In heaven I concede.
Their can't be this hierarchy.
Ruled under one thumb.
The gloom of this darkness.
Follow the leader.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
The teachers, or the preachers?
How do we view one another.
Painting another pretty rainbow.
The colors of the perfected flaws.
Lets put everything on pause.
Just look at us.
Divided by nothing.
Yet communication is non existent.
With every second the meaning is yet to met.
Dire consequences.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
Grabbing the gun and knife.
Preparing to defends ones life.
All because we can't share.
Like little children we fight our wars.
With equality being important above all else.
Death to this diluted common practice.
Lets just be as we are.
Deny the skies all you want.
Their still there.
Hovering in the air.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
I'm already gone.
In a higher place.
In a world disapproving.
To my conclusion.
But I don't even care.
I don't believe in fair.
I expect to receive the worst.
Cause in this life we have been cursed.
But it is the only way we can learn.
With the heart it has to be earned.
With all that is good I'm concerned.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
We are men that have the ability to find choice.
With this we should rejoice.
But instead we try to remove it and the responsibility of it.
Should I be angry?
Should I be mad?
Should I try to destroy other men?
With hope I pray that I can be forgiven.
Evil is the intent.
The world is trying to circumvent.
Shortcuts to the end.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night In A Foxhole
I sit in a foxhole with two other men
One of them sleeps while the other lies dead
Just three more long hours ‘til my nightly watch ends
But sleep will not instill rest in my head
Battle wounds are revealed by the moon
As the beams search our faces so aged
Finding not the tears internally kept, for as soon
As they were wept they were caged
Bombs sleep in their shells ‘til commanded ahead
Ready to burst like something unsaid
They whisper smoke and shake hands with destruction
They bring silent scenes with ears that don't function
Brothers, so many, eternally bound
By the blood that we've spilled here upon the ground
By the stains on our souls of the lives that we've taken
By the doubt that has found us, and our hope it has shaken
By the haunting memories that knock on Night's door
By the will to survive or else die in the arms of a fellow soldier at war
poem by Argentine Tango
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunsets With A Crimson Colour
We paint our sunsets with crimson colours
a sign of a brighter day tomorrow.
We paint our earth with blues and green,
the oceans, lakes and land.
However, we paint ourselves invisible
with the use of slight of hand.
How long will we paint with colours
if we carry on the way we do.
The crimson will become a dusty brown
for the dust cloud we created.
The green will become black,
chard and empty of everything.
The waters that were blue
will run red with the dead,
polluted beyond repair,
unless we open our eyes now
and our world we start to take care.
Hopefully, then once again we can paint
our sunsets with a crimson colour.
3 September 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work Of Art
Life is a ‘work of art”, and humanity is the biggest part.
We draw and paint masterpieces, and write the
Histories of each generation.
Just to show that we’ve been here
Because in our lives we live in fear.
Paintings, pictures, movies and words
With all this knowledge we still don’t learn.
For we create our heavens, and we create our hells
Look around you and you can tell.
Wars, hunger, poverty and hate
We better stop before it’s too late.
We’re already destroying all that nature is giving
“is this what we call living? ”
(if you want to see the “work of art” of humanity
Then take a white canvas and paint
“A large black dot”.
For that is humanity destroying the clean beauty
That the lord has given us.)
This canvas a work of art? Who is to say?
Can you express this life in a better way!
“Work of art” it is anything and everything that
Man puts in their minds, and it becomes
A part of the times.
For “perception becomes your reality”
And this is the work of art that I see.
poem by Louis Rams
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Give Into Hate
Violence surrounds me
Violence in society
Violence in our eyes
Violence in their cries
Violence it's our fate?
Violence, it's too late?
Violence, no escape?
Violence, give into hate?
Is it human nature to act like animals?
We're all guilty, we're all criminals
Selfish species headed for a self destruction
Violent product of moral corruption
Violence for love
Violence because of hate
Violence, revolution
Violence of the state
Violence, you will find
Violence, it grips your mind
Violence, it's too late?
Violence, give into hate
song performed by by Unseen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mingled With Fire
The law is burning and bombs are falling!
The earth mourns and fades aways but,
My ture love will be with you always.
You are the accuser of our brothers,
You are accuser of our sisters,
You are the accuser of our fathers,
You are the accuser of our mothers,
And like the vine of the earth.
Of the sea of glass mingled with fire! !
War in heaven and earth;
With many dead bodies already counted like,
The stones of a quarry.
Tribes, peoples, languages and nations;
Two wings of a great eagle flying over the planes of war,
But the blood of the dead are not needed as at now.
The length of half an hour,
The earth mourns and fades aways;
Destruction, destruction, destruction!
The torment of the scorpions are like the horses prepared for war.
The locusts came flying through the midst of heaven,
But the chariots of many failled to run;
For the battle is great and it is mingled with fire.
Of bombs dropping like water and,
People dying like falling sones;
But my true love will be with you aways.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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What Is The Greatest Prize That Can Ever Be Won?
I'll do it to the point I can no longer afford to do it.
Helping a family destroyed by this man if you want to call him that.
Fixing a trailer given to me that he abandon.
Taking the flood money and running is what he did.
Buy the flashy t.v. instead of building and fixing up your home.
Beating on you wife because you hate your life.
Self destruction till you are nothing.
Ashes fall on me from a fire you created.
But I'm still standing covering my mouth so I don't breath your poison in.
I'll give it my all and even more.
Not because begrudge you anything, but because if I don't I'll have watch her suffer, her kid suffer, her grandchild suffer.
Good men that do nothing are no longer good men.
I might fall on my own sword, but if I do I know someone might just come to my rescue.
Because those who help, listen to, and share with others about their own misfortunes are the first to receive help.
In any friendship communication is key.
Let pride not destroy ones own dignity.
Self respect is as you make it.
Self esteem can always be redeemed.
A prize waits inside the heart that has been won.
It is called love.
And nothing else can even compare.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Shocking
Shockingly the newspapers tell
about the events in the house at the corner,
where nobody could stop black criminals
to violate, rape and kill a white woman,
the story is kept away from television-news,
it is far too crude for the public to view,
where a broomstick was driven into her female parts,
where she lies with legs apart, with her hands clenched together
and her lovely body is covered in blood,
she lies nakedly
with perfect round DD-breasts
and everywhere there’s blood
and the point of the broom had been sharpened before the attack
and this scene of black violence, make me want to vomit.
[References: Photograph of the raped, tortured white woman: Dr. P.W. Möller, “The Mandela-legend, ” Publisher: Dr. P.W. Möller, Jotha Printers (2011) P.48.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blue Candy
Dots of light scatter across the view,
From a distance I'm closer to the view.
The water moves as the boats remain silent in the view,
The screams from the park sheltered by the moon.
Blue firemen spread their heat,
The powder now a liquid with emotions to defeat.
People fire their souls as the rides end their attack,
Blue candy waiting inside them to react.
I travel along the water through my mind's eye,
Remembering, I, with blue candy's tie.
I look to the park: I distanced from the view,
The view ending with my eyes looking to the moon.
I see no clouds as the fire spreads inside,
Desire blue candy hitting in all minds,
Raw emotion no longer hidden inside.
Blue candy burns inside my mind,
The powder waiting to leave my past behind.
Blue candy fires as it heats like the sun:
Once inside it cannot be undone.
Every line is stirred under a darkened moon,
Burning desire blue candy's monsoon.
Like, fire, I call blue candy to defeat,
I, lying alone in a city's white light heat.
poem by Paula Glynn
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We may yet work up to some serious shooting war, or maybe some acts of urban genocide committed with rogue nuclear weapons. But if that were the case, why would we call that ""9/11""? If Washington disappeared in a mushroom cloud, we'd give that huge event a different name.
quote by Bruce Sterling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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War
What is the point of fighting?
There is no winner
What is the point of fighting?
People just die
Why do we fight?
Even through the night
Boom, boom, boom,
Bombs mines and missiles
There is shrapnel,
Earth and blood
Flying everywhere,
All the wars we have
Ever had combined
Will not have as
Much mass destruction
As these one, WWIII
We can’t ignore this war,
We have to close that door,
Before, it’s too late,
We probably only have about
4 or 8, more years.
poem by Jacob Gifford
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Pestilent Man
His heart beat like a racketeer
Pounding into his chest
He moved like a steam powered locomotive
Sweat spilled out of his skin
His limbs exploded onto the ground like long missiles
His determination was running at full speed
One guy was on the ground in front of him
Two guys were violently bulgeoning
the young man with kicks in repetion
The man ran at the young people and cried out,
'Hey stop, stop! '
The two misguided young ones ran off.
He asked the beaten fool what happened
he walked away not saying a word of thanks
Maybe this young ungrateful pestilent man
would have been killed if this had been allowed to continue
What a fool, I'm embarrassed to be apart of his race
But I'm not perfect
I too need to shed my imperfections
It was a personal territorial war to be sure
This is the rabid animal inside coming alive
because it has been fostered and exposed
Release the animal and control yourself
This black evil lives inside too many
poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
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Black Paint
Who daubed black paint
upon this canvass?
Come out and stand before us.
We shall interrogate you,
stand and admit your crime!
This canvass, once so clean,
is tarnished by your hand.
Do you claim freedom of expression?
This is no monument to art?
I have a theory, be it good or bad
it's just a crazy artist who got mad.
poem by Ruth Walters
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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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Unlimited Point of View
Disabled, or Divergently Abled,
Depends on individual point of view
As by personal path recently led
My parameter is now somewhat new
For any roadway that is very steep
Or too rocky to be traversed on wheel
For every stream I may no longer leap
Other paths, providence does reveal
For every mountain I can not climb
Beneath rests a peaceful valley green
Offering a view still quite sublime
Each majestic peak will yet be seen
For every Eagle that might soar too high
A Songbird will cheerfully flit close by
Watching the stallion gallop in the sun
I know the jubilance born of full run
Point of view is a peculiar thing
Originating not from eye alone
Drawing from the unique mindset we bring
Rises each vision we have ever known
Each day proceeds to offer something new
As one chapter ends the next has its start
There is no such thing as limited view
If you but search with unlimited heart
poem by Mary Havran
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