The Assault
The beating of the guns grows louder.
'Not long, boys, now.'
My heart burns whiter, fearfuller, prouder;
Hurricanes grow
As guns redouble their fire.
Through the shaken periscope peeping
I glimpse their wire:
Black earth, fountains of earth rise, leaping,
Spouting like shocks of meeting waves.
Death's fountains are playing,
Shells like shrieking birds rush over;
Crash and din rises higher.
A stream of lead raves
Over us from the left… (we safe under cover!)
Crash. Reverberation. Crash!
Acrid smoke billowing. Flash upon flash.
Black smoke drifting. The German line
Vanishes in confusion, smoke. Cries, and cry
Of our men, 'Gah! yer swime,
You're for it,' die
In a hurricane of shell….
One cry;
'We're comin' soon! look out!'
There is opened hell
Over there. Fragments fly,
Rifles and bits of men whirled at the sky:
Dust, smoke, thunder. A sudden bout
Of machine-guns chattering….
And redoubled battering
As if in fury at their daring….
No good staring.
Time soon now… home… house on a sunlit hill….
Gone like a flickered page.
Time soon now… zero… will engage…
A sudden thrill.
'Fix bayonets.'
Gods! we have our fill
Of fear, hysteria, exultation, rage -
Rage to kill….
My heart burns hot, whiter and whiter,
Contracts tighter and tighter,
Until I stifle with the will
Long forged, now used -
(Though utterly strained)
O pounding heart,
Baffled, confused,
Heart panged, head singing dizzily pained -
To do my part.
Blindness a moment. Sick.
There the men are.
Bayonets ready: click!
Time goes quick;
A stumbled prayer… somehow a blazing star
In a blue night… where?
Again prayer.
The tongue trips. Start:
How's time? Soon now. Two minutes or less.
The guns' fury mounting higher.
Their utmost. I lift a silent hand. Unseen I bless
Those hearts will follow me.
And beautifully
Now beautifully my will grips.
Soul calm and round and filmed and white!
A shout! 'Men, no such order as retire!'
I nod.
The whistle's twixt my lips….
I catch
A wan, worn smile at me.
Dear men!
The pale wrist-watch….
The quiet hand ticks on amid the din.
The guns again
Rise to a last fury, to a rage, a lust:
Kill! Pound! Kill! Pound! Pound!
Now comes the thrust,
My part… dizziness… will… but trust
These men. The great guns rise.
Their fury seems to burst the earth and skies!
They - lift!
Gather, heart, all thoughts that drift;
Be steel, soul.
Compress thyself
Into a round, bright whole.
I cannot speak.
Time! Time!
I hear my whistle shriek
Between teeth set,
I fling an arm up,
Scramble up the grime
Over the parapet!
I'm up. Go on.
Something meets us.
Head down into the storm that greets us.
A wail!
Lights. Blurr.
Gone.
On, on. Lead. Lead. Hail.
Spatter. Whirr. Whirr.
'Toward that patch of brown,
Direction left.' Bullets: a stream.
Devouring thought crying in a dream;
Men, crumpled, going down….
Go on. Go.
Deafness, Numbness. The loudening tornado.
Bullets. Mud. Stumbling and skating.
My voice's strangled shout:-
'Steady pace, boys!'
The still light: gladness.
'Look, sir, look out!-'
Ha! Ha! Bunched figures waiting.
Revolver levelled: quick!
Flick! Flick!
Red as blood.
Germans. Germans.
Good! Oh, good!
Cool madness.
poem by Robert Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Soldier's Reality
The drums of war beat in the distance,
A constant beat of gun shots.
The men and boys fighting.
Waiting for the war to end, to go back home.
They sit in the cover of the long grass,
Guns loaded, hearts pounding.
They wait for a signal, a sign,
To rise, run, and fire.
Till then they sit, watching, bullets passing by.
They watch people falling, their lives leaving.
Nothing matters to them except that they live,
That they get to see their family again.
Smoke hangs in the air,
A thick mist that reminds them that they're at war,
Keeping them in reality, keeping their eyes open.
The constant rhythm of guns against heart beats,
Both pounding, both screaming.
The black sky closing in on them,
Keeping them in the small battle that they can not escape,
They move back from the front line,
Move away from the fire, the death.
Some walk, some run, some cry, some pray,
But they all move on.
They all go back to camp, to wait for more death and pain.
For tomorrow.
The talking goes late into the night.
Men and women desperate for happiness,
They sit around guns in hand,
Ready for anything.
The shooting never stops, never leaves their minds,
Even in the depths of this black night,
Nothing ends except the next person's life,
Nothing is right, nothing is normal, nothing feels real,
But in truth and in the midst of everything so surreal,
This is the soldiers reality.
by: bethany M.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting, Still Waiting
i have been to the place where dignity calls,
heard the sounds of families running for cover.
felt the pounding of guns, smelled the stench of bodies,
watched men who hated theirselves in another.
saw ghouls counting money stained by blood,
saw priests counting bodies buried in mud.
felt the sting of the lie, the cold inside empty.
heard the groan of towns and burning cities.
both broke outside and broken inside.
where good men pray for the courage to die....
still the shout and the fury of freedom shakes...
tis the hand that gives and the hand that takes.
we are no more than the doubt and the ache...
waiting, still waiting, for the storm to break!
now who will lead and who will follow,
the path of yesterday dont lead to tomorrow.
the end of the world, the beginning of time.
while the sheep are lost and the goats are blind.
now the voices of children unborn crying,
for the mother slain and the father dying.
the howl of abandonment tears the sky,
the stink of poverty perfumed by the lie.
now the gods of men turn in disgust,
while the souls of men crumble to dust....
still the shout and the fury of freedom shakes....
tis the hand that gives and the hand that takes.
we are no more than the doubt and the ache...
waiting, still waiting, for the storm to break!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Songs of the Lathes
The fans and the beltings they roar round me.
The power is shaking the floor round me
Till the lathes pick up their duty and the midnight-shift takes over.
It is good for me to be here!
Guns in Flanders--Flanders guns!
(I had a man that worked 'em once!)
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders! Feeds the guns!
The cranes and the carriers they boom over me,
The bays and the galleries they loom over me,
With their quarter-mile of pillars growing little in the distance--
It is good for me to be here!
The Zeppelins and Gothas they raid over us.
Our lights give warning, and fade over us.
(Seven thousand women keeping quiet in the darkness!)
Oh, it's good for me to be here.
The roofs and the buildings they grow round me,
Eating up the fields I used to know round me;
And the shed that I began in is a sub-inspector's office--
So long have I been here!
I've seen six hundred mornings make our lamps grow dim,
Through the bit that isn't painted round our sky-light rim,
And the sunshine through the window slope according to the seasons,
Twice since I've been here.
The trains on the sidings they call to us
With the hundred thousand blanks that they haul to us;
And we send 'em what we've finished, and they take it where it's wanted,
For that is why we are here!
Man's hate passes as his love will pass.
God made Woman what she always was.
Them that bear the burden they will never grant forgiveness
So long as they are here!
Once I was a woman, but that's by with me.
All I loved and looked for, it must die with me;
But the Lord has left me over for a servant of the Judgment,
And I serve His Judgments here!
Guns in Flanders--Flanders guns!
(I had a son that worked 'em once!)
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders! Feeds the guns!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Melt The Guns
(andy partridge)
Programmes of violence,
As entertainment,
Brings the disease into your room.
We know the germ,
Which is man-made in metal,
Is really a key to your own tomb.
Prevention is better than cure,
Bad apples affecting the pure,
Youll gather your senses Im sure
Then agree to,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more to fire them.
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more desire them.
Children will want them,
Mothers supply them,
As long as your killers are heroes.
And all the media
Will fiddle while rome burns,
Acting like modern-time neros.
Prevention is better than cure,
Bad apples affecting the pure,
Youll gather your senses Im sure
Then agree to,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more to fire them.
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more desire them.
Im speaking to the justice league of america.
The u s of a,
Hey you,
Yes you in particular!
When it comes to the judgement day and youre standing at the gates with your weaponry,
You dead go down on one knee,
Clasp your hands in prayer and start quoting me,
cos we say...
Our father weve managed to contain the epidemic in one place, now,
Lets hope they shoot themselves instead of others,
Help to civilize the race now.
Weve trapped the cause of the plague,
In the land of the free and the home of the brave.
If we listen quietly we can hear them shooting from grave to grave.
You ought to,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more to fire them.
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more desire them.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Melt The Guns
(andy partridge)
Programmes of violence,
As entertainment,
Brings the disease into your room.
We know the germ,
Which is man-made in metal,
Is really a key to your own tomb.
Prevention is better than cure,
Bad apples affecting the pure,
Youll gather your senses Im sure
Then agree to,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more to fire them.
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more desire them.
Children will want them,
Mothers supply them,
As long as your killers are heroes.
And all the media
Will fiddle while rome burns,
Acting like modern-time neros.
Prevention is better than cure,
Bad apples affecting the pure,
Youll gather your senses Im sure
Then agree to,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more to fire them.
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more desire them.
Im speaking to the justice league of america.
The u s of a,
Hey you,
Yes you in particular!
When it comes to the judgement day and youre standing at the gates with your weaponry,
You dead go down on one knee,
Clasp your hands in prayer and start quoting me,
cos we say...
Our father weve managed to contain the epidemic in one place, now,
Lets hope they shoot themselves instead of others,
Help to civilize the race now.
Weve trapped the cause of the plague,
In the land of the free and the home of the brave.
If we listen quietly we can hear them shooting from grave to grave.
You ought to,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more to fire them.
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
Melt the guns,
And never more desire them.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paschendale
In a foreign field he lay
lonely soldier unknown grave
on his dying words he prays
tell the world of Paschendale
Relive all that he's been through
last communion of his soul
rust your bullets with his tears
let me tell you 'bout his years
Laying low in a blood filled trench
killing time 'til my very own death
on my face I can feel the falling rain
never see my friends again
in the smoke, in the mud and lead
smell of fear and feeling of dread
soon be time to go over the wall
rapid fire and the end of us all
Whistles, shouts and more gun fire
lifeless bodies hang on barbwire
battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb
be reunited with my dead friends soon
many soldiers eighteen years
drown in mud, no more tears
surely a war no one can win
killing time about to begin
Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again
The bodies of ours and our foes
the sea of death it overflows
in no man's land God only knows
into jaws of death we go...
Crucified as if on a cross
allied troops, they mourn their loss
German war propaganda machine
such before has never been seen
swear I heard the angels cry
pray to God no more may die
so that people know the truth
tell the tale of Paschendale
Cruelty has a human heart
everyman does play his part
terror of the men we kill
the human heart is hungry still
I stand my ground for the very last time
gun is ready as I stand in line
nervous wait for the whistle to blow
rush of blood and over we go...
Blood is falling like the rain
its crimson cloak unveils again
the sound of guns can't hide their shame
and so we die in Paschendale
Dodging shrapnel and barbwire
running straight at cannon fire
running blind as I hold my breath
say a prayer symphony of death
as we charge the enemy lines
a burst of fire and we go down
I choke a cry but no one hears
feel the blood go down my throat
Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again
Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again
See my spirit on the wind
across the lines beyond the hill
friend and foe will meet again
those who died at Paschendale
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paschandale
(SmithHarris)
In a foreign field he lay
Lonely soldier, unknown grave
On his dying words he prays
Tell the world of Paschendale
Relive all that he's been through
Last communion of his soul
Rust your bullets with his tears
Let me tell you 'bout his years
Laying low in a blood filled trench
Kill tim 'til my very own death
On my face I can feel the falling rain
Never see my friends again
In the smoke, in the mud and lead
Smell the fear and the feeling of dread
Soon be time to go over the wall
Rapid fire and the end of us all
Whistles, shouts and more gun fire
Lifeless bodies hang on barbed wire
Battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb
Be reunited with my dead friends soon
Many soldiers eighteen years
Drown in mud, no more tears
Surely a war no-one can win
Killing time about to begin
Home, far away
From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away
But the war, no chance to live again
The bodies of ours and our foes
The sea of death it overflows
In no man's land, God only knows
Into jaws of death we go
Crucified as if on a cross
Allied troops they mourn their loss
German war propaganda machine
Such before has never been seen
Swear I heard the angels cry
Pray to god no more may die
So that people know the truth
Tell the tale of Paschendale
Cruelty has a human heart
Every man does play his part
Terror of the men we kill
The human heart is hungry still
I stand my ground for the very last time
Gun is ready as I stand in line
Nervous wait for the whistle to blow
Rush of blood and over we go
Blood is falling like the rain
Its crimso
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Approach
1.
In the Grass: Halt by the Wayside
In my tired, helpless body
I feel my sunk heart ache;
But suddenly, loudly
The far, the great guns shake.
Is it sudden terror
Burdens my heart? My hand
Flies to my head. I listen…
And do not understand.
Is death so near, then?
From this blazing light,
Do I plunge suddenly
Into vortex? Night?
Guns again! the quiet
Shakes at the vengeful voice…
It is terrible pleasure
I do not fear; I rejoice.
2.
On the Way Up
The battery grinds and jingles,
Mile succeeds to mile;
Shaking the noonday sunshine,
The guns lunge out a while
And then are still a while.
We amble along the highway;
The reeking, powdery dust
Ascends and cakes our faces,
With a striped, sweaty crust.
Under the still sky's violet
The heat throbs in the air…
The white road's dusty radiance,
Assumes a dark glare.
With a head hot and heavy,
And eyes that cannot rest,
And a black heart burning
In a stifled breast,
I sit in the saddle,
I feel the road unroll,
And keep my senses straightened
Toward to-morrow's goal.
There over unknown meadows,
Which we must reach at last,
Day and night thunders
A black and chilly blast.
Heads forget heaviness,
Hearts forget spleen,
For by that mighty winnowing
Being is blown clean.
Light in the eyes again,
Strength in the hand,
A spirit dares, dies, forgives
And can understand.
And best! Love comes back again
After grief and shame,
And along the wind of death
Throws a clean flame!
The battery grinds and jingles;
Mile succeeds to mile;
Suddenly battering the silence
The guns burst out a while.
I lift my head and smile.
3.
Nearer
Nearer and ever nearer….
My body tired but tense
Hovers 'twixt vague pleasure
And tremulous confidence.
Arms to have and to use them,
And a soul to be made
Worthy if not worthy;
If afraid, unafraid!
To endure for a little.
To endure and have done:
Men I love about me,
Over me the sun!
And should at last suddenly
Fly the speeding death:
The four great quarters of heaven
Receive this little breath.
poem by Robert Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Billy Get Your Guns
I just seen trouble
He's calling out your name tonite
Billy get your guns
You could walk away
But I know you were born to fight
So Billy get your guns
The bandileros are strung out
In the promenade
Billy get your guns
Chorus
Billy get your guns
There's trouble blowing like a hurricane
Billy get your guns
That's the price on your head for the
Price of fame
And it'll never change
Billy get your guns
There's a whiskey bottle empty
Sittin' on the bar
Billy get your guns
And some organ grinder singing
About some sucker moving on
Billy get your guns
All the whores are hanging out
Waiting to get paid
Billy get your guns
From some Johnny on the spot
Who said hey keep the change baby
Billy get your guns
There's trouble blowing like a hurricane
Billy get your guns
That's the price on your head for the
Price of fame
And it'll never change
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Guns
Rivers, trees and the law had received the dead;
And from the very act of the guns in your hands,
But try to replace your guns with pens to write with.
It is like an elusive commodity to hold at last,
But with an untrammelled rowdy as a culture;
For you are my heart'sd fream when it comes for love,
And i will live where peace is taught always.
How long can you learn from all these guns? !
I will prefer to live where love is taught also but,
How long will your guns kill each other?
For the earth had taken enough of the dead.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give up the fight
Do you know what's worth fighting for?
When it's not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away and you feel
yourself suffocating?
Does the pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?
Did someone break your heart
inside, you're in ruins
One,21 Guns
Lay down your arms
Give up the fight
One,21 Guns
Throw up your arms into the sky
You and I...
When you're at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your
soul
Your faith walks on broken glass and the
hangover doesn't pass
Nothing's ever built to last, you're in ruins
One,21 Guns
Lay down your arms
Give up the fight
One,21 Guns
Throw up your arms into the sky
You and I...
Did you try to live on your own?
When you burned down the house and
home?
Did you stand too close to the fire?
Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a
stone
When it's time to live and let die
And you can't get another try
Something inside this heart has died, you're
in ruins
One,21 Guns
Lay down your arms
Give up the fight
One,21 Guns
Throw up your arms into the sky
One,21 Guns
Lay down your arms
Give up the fight
One,21 Guns
Throw up your arms into the sky
You and I
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Devil Dogs
Through grain fields with bayonets fixed,
from Belleau Woods the Germans came.
The sixth Marines in shallow pits
unleashed a deadly metal rain.
The French collapsed upon the left
Their flank exposed by craven fear
The Marines held fast when urged to flee:
'Retreat? , Hell we just got here.'
By June the sixth, it fell to them
to take a Hill to save the French.
A German company with machine guns
waited for them well entrenched.
With tactics from another war
Audacious yes, but not too clever
'Come on, you bastards' Dan Daly roared,
'Do you really want to live forever'
With casualties high, so many dead
The Marine Corps held the hill by night.
Counter attacks were fended off
some times with fists and K bar knife.
Now the cannon of both sides
rained steel where the combatants stood:
A once beautiful preserve of princes
was turned into a shattered wood.
Through mustard gas and cannon fire
The Marines advanced into the Wood.
Silenced machine guns and cut bared wire
Till the enemy fled, this time for good.
Before the flag at Iwo flew,
Before the Canal's jungle squalor
Marines were nicknamed 'Devil Dogs'
by the Germans who admired valor.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Pick Up The Bones
Collecting pieces of my family
In an old pillow case
This one has a skull
But it don't have a face
These look like the arms of father so strong
And the ring on this finger
Means my Grandma is gone
Here's some legs in a cloud
Where my sister once played
Here's some mud made of blood
And these teeth are decayed
The ear of my brother
The hand of a friend
And I just can't
Put them back together again
Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the smoke going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light
There are stains on the floor
Where kitchen once stood
There are ribs on the fire place
Mixed with the wood
There are forces in the air
Ghosts in the wind
Some bullets in the back
And some scars on the skin
There were demons with guns
Who marched through this place
Killing everything that breathed
They're an inhuman race
There are holes in the walls
Bloody hair on the bricks
And the smell of this hell
Is making me sick
Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the smoke going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light
Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the scope going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light
Now maybe someday
The suns gonna shine
Flowers will bloom
And all will be fine
But nothing will grow
On this burnt cursive ground
Cuz the breathe of the death
Is the only sound
song performed by by Alice Cooper from Brutal Planet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Your Guns
Wild beast, Ill make you mine
Taste your kiss, sweet lips devine
She got moves, drips of sweat
She got eyes of blue, body curves
n legs thatll break your nerves
Chorus:
Fire - when shes going down
Fire - then she make you drown
Fire - then she blow you round
Yeah, you want some fun
Fire your guns
Fire your guns
Fire your guns
Fire your guns
That lady bites, hard style
Drips of sex, eyes are wild
She got moves, long long legs
She got eyes of blue, body curves
Legs thatll shake the earth
Chorus
Yeah, you want some fun
You gotta fire your guns
Fire your guns
You gotta fire your guns
Fire your guns
(yeah, yeow!)
Yeah
Chorus
Yeah, you want some fun
Gotta fire your guns
Fire your guns (x9)
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Counter-Attack
We’d gained our first objective hours before
While dawn broke like a face with blinking eyes,
Pallid, unshaved and thirsty, blind with smoke.
Things seemed all right at first. We held their line,
With bombers posted, Lewis guns well placed,
And clink of shovels deepening the shallow trench.
The place was rotten with dead; green clumsy legs
High-booted, sprawled and grovelled along the saps
And trunks, face downward, in the sucking mud,
Wallowed like trodden sand-bags loosely filled;
And naked sodden buttocks, mats of hair,
Bulged, clotted heads slept in the plastering slime.
And then the rain began,—the jolly old rain!
A yawning soldier knelt against the bank,
Staring across the morning blear with fog;
He wondered when the Allemands would get busy;
And then, of course, they started with five-nines
Traversing, sure as fate, and never a dud.
Mute in the clamour of shells he watched them burst
Spouting dark earth and wire with gusts from hell,
While posturing giants dissolved in drifts of smoke.
He crouched and flinched, dizzy with galloping fear,
Sick for escape,—loathing the strangled horror
And butchered, frantic gestures of the dead.
An officer came blundering down the trench:
‘Stand-to and man the fire-step!’ On he went...
Gasping and bawling, ‘Fire-step ... counter-attack!’
Then the haze lifted. Bombing on the right
Down the old sap: machine-guns on the left;
And stumbling figures looming out in front.
‘O Christ, they’re coming at us!’ Bullets spat,
And he remembered his rifle ... rapid fire...
And started blazing wildly ... then a bang
Crumpled and spun him sideways, knocked him out
To grunt and wriggle: none heeded him; he choked
And fought the flapping veils of smothering gloom,
Lost in a blurred confusion of yells and groans...
Down, and down, and down, he sank and drowned,
Bleeding to death. The counter-attack had failed.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Your Guns To Town
On the eastern highway we ride
Windshield wipers disperse the rain from the sky
Whats left is ivy and vine
All the letters Id sent back home
Never express the idea of how a young man
Can be so far from home
Take your guns to town
Dont take your guns to town
Take your guns to town
Dont take your guns to town
Stumble down main street alone
Just gotten home with my hand on the phone
I was drinking alone on the quilted (? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? )
Take your guns to town
Dont take your guns to town
Take your guns to town
Dont take your guns to town
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Smoke Comes Out
when the smoke comes out
they are there to say that there is fire
on the chimney
when the smoke is black
they all say i have decided
when the smoke is white
they keep on praying since
no one is chosen
to lead the lost flock
without their grazing ground
during winter time
what if the smoke comes out
from my eyes and the smoke is black
and there is no fire in my heart?
what if i am lost? shall you care?
please don't. I must tell you i am happier
when left alone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beyond Sadness
I will never see in which you believe, my dragon with the broken heart, consists of painfull drops, ten thousand to the tears - I am a target, to the enemy which is unknown, i can never close a deal to deck the bargain, made by an underworld at peace - The pain which burns beneath my heart, nailed by arrows, derailed by the hammer, pulled from my chest - I am wounded beyond the sadness that clocks the sand to my time, i will rise with the clouds into the sky - I grew angry, i blamed the world, sadly, i am the flame which simulates the burn to my fire - I am so close to be far behind, i begin at the end, i move straight through all my bends - The only obstacle is the voice in my head, ensuring me that death does not mean i will be dead - Die i will so Decay may rise - Fury to fulfill the black smoke in the skies
poem by Unic Cjonr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Angered Heart
I cant stand this any more
all she wants to do is fight
or that's what it seems like
why cant she just speak any good words
who has that much evil in them
I don't know why I even care
the house is in his name the land to
so is the car and us kids wont be going with her
if they split up
only if Ethan goes with her witch I highly doubt I will go with him
I'm not going to have that boy go with her alone
no way
the first time she fucking touches him I will call the cops
because that's not cool at all so if she wants us she better not touch anyone of us
cause I'm sick of it
I'm sick of her hurting Ethan and just sitting there not doing anything about it
I'm sick of just taking it not fighting back
that's not right
sick of the way she yells at us just to blow off steam every day
sick of hiding my true feelings
she makes me want to run away and\or kill myself
why don't I
a hand full of reasons
I have my baby brother that if I ran away she would kill him
my dog I love her so much and she would die with out me
or I let myself believe because with out her
I would have a broken heart and would die anyway
my education I need it to beet her
to show her that anyone even me could make something good
for a job to support me and my other half (him)
I think that's about all
when I turn 18 I have about 30 days left and I will start packing
taking stuff to Washington soon after that on the weekends
to lead a better life with out her
but I will come back to visit everyone else but her
until I can forgive my her for what she has done to Ethan over the years
I cant come back to see her
if I do my flaming in anger heart would explode
with so much fury
I would kill her
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gun Control
(ian hunter)
All right
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control.
Stick to your guns, boys, stick to your guns.
Well make a lot of money if we stick to the guns.
The presidents with us boys, so join in the fun.
We can make a lot of money if we stick to our guns.
Yeah
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control.
Let the bullets go!
Step up the lobby, boys, down in washington.
We can make a lot of money if you stick to your guns.
Tradition is with us boys, its the constitution,
So stick to your guns, boys, the final solution.
Hey
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control.
Hey, and aint it a shame we aint got a war,
Well just have to practice on the sick and the poor.
Assassinate presidents, and they aint the only ones,
We can get them all, young and old, if we stick to our guns.
So stick to your guns, boys, fight for your life.
Well all feel special on a saturday night.
Yeah!
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control, we dont want no
Gun control.
Let the bullets go.
Viva macho
Viva macho
Viva macho
Viva macho
Gun control, no, we dont want no
Gun control, no, we dont want no
Gun control, hey, I dont want no
Gun control, (Im much too busy making...)
Gun control,
Gun control, (...saturday night specials)
Gun control,
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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