Crying For Arab Martyrs
crying for Arab martyrs'
who have died
who are dying
because they believe
in freedom
because they believe
they others should be free
in black rose freedom
crying for Arabs
as we have cried
for others
who were prepared
to die
so others
could be free
in black rose freedom
crying because
these younger youth
have died
not just
before their rightful time
but have so young died
before older men
in black rose freedom
crying because
in this world today
it is necessary
for the ordinary
bravest best civilians
to die
so others might can be free
in black rose freedom
do not blame Arab
dictator
for civilian deaths
in Aleppo? ? ?
without Russian Chinese
political muscle flexing
merciless
backing blood would not flow
in black rose freedom
blood red black rose withers
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Syrian Military Attacking Killing Civilians
Syrian military
tanks aircraft are attacking
are killing civilians
with Russian
political military...
aid civilian Arab
blood flows
blood red black rose withers
those Russians
those Russians
living before frost
ice thaw
say how can you expect...
dictators
to leave
blood red black rose withers
without sowing
killing fields
with thousands
millions of rebels
exterminated
are not model...
civilians
not citizens
blood red black rose withers
plus misfits
did not conform
to official
party policy
insanity insanity...
there can be
only party
blood red black rose withers
Russian tradition slay civilians
put in ice box grave Gulag...
have they not heard
Stalin is dead...
dictatorship is dead...
martyr minds
beyond the wire noose...
blood red black rose withers
beyond the wire noose...
are already free
blood red black rose withers
do not blame Arab
dictator
for civilian deaths
in Aleppo? ? ?
without Russian Chinese
political muscle flexing
merciless
backing blood would not flow
backing blood would not flow
in black rose freedom
blood red black rose withers
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Single Black Rose
A single Black Rose to turn the tide
A single Black Rose to make one die
A single Black Rose to ensnare the soul
A single Black Rose to widen that hole
A single Black Rose to melt the heart
A single Black Rose to force a start
A single Black Rose to entwine the bodies
A single Black Rose to dictate the deaths of these
A single Black Rose to lie upon her breast
A single Black Rose to stop the tears from soaking his vest
A single Black Rose to mourn this memory
A single Black Rose to become a plot in this cemetery
A single Black Rose to take a life
A single Black Rose to end his strife.
(8/21/2007)
poem by Michael Koelliker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Black Single Rose.
A single black rose.
A single black rose to carry the load,
A single black rose to turn the road,
A single black rose to touch the soul,
A single black rose to widen your hole,
A single black rose to melt your heart,
A single black rose to force a start,
A single black rose to make you cry,
A single black rose to make you dry,
A single black rose to help you climb,
A single black rose to make you lie,
A single black rose to take a life,
A single black rose to take away strife.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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A Black Rose
A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart
A black rose bring the scent of death as it tears love apart
A black rose makes nightmares relity
A black rose fills my life with unsertanty
A black rose is forgoten hopes and dream
A black rose is a broken man laying in tears and painful screams
A black rose is the pain of a widowed wife
A black rose is lost love in my hopless life
A black rose is the memorys that haunt my restless soul
A black rose took everthing from me that once made me whole
poem by Glenn McGahan
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A Black Rose
A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart…
A black rose brings the scent of death as it tears love apart…
A black rose makes nightmares reality…
A black rose fills my life with uncertainty…
A black rose is forgotten hopes and dreams…
A black rose is a broken girl laying in tears and painful screams…
A black rose is the pain of a shattered life…
A black rose is lost love in my hopeless life…
A black rose is the memories that haunt my restless soul…
A black rose took everything from me that once made me whole…
Including…you…
A Rose To Remember....
i am reading about the death of a rose
i am reflecting about
death of freedom
it is all about a rose, a wilting rose, a brown rose,
a dry rose
each petal falling softly on the ground
a dry ground full of sand and pebbles
all footprints covered
abandoned, i am talking
about the death of a rose, the death of the freedom of the rose
the death of freedom, the rose of death, the freedom of death,
is it you now that i talk about? that i must remember?
have i met you before when i was but a thorn, a worm, a leaf?
was i the sand
a pebble, the wind? will you be a rose forever?
is there death in you?
i feel the wind, i smell the rose,
there is no death....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Freedom in Despair
Freedom in Despair
Being set free and feel
the touch of a stranger
to see their true colors
and how they loved me so
Showing their passion
buried beneath a diary
a single rose to give
and now i should understand
This is not freedom
a single touch of the war
and painted dead black
with it's melacholy way
Passionate with no passion
free with no freedom
twisted with black and red
a stranger broght through
a long, lost war
Yes this was certain
this was love
love and hate
all will do the same
destroy me
poem by Devon Maxwell
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If I Was Freedom
If i was freedom:
i would be free and for free.
Citizens of the world would'nt have to
Pay with their blood, lives and sweat.
If i was freedom,
i would be omnipresent;
in first, second and third world countries.
Poor and rich people would afford.
Black, white, green people would all know me.
If i was freedom,
i would be Nemesis:
i would destroy all humans and beast alike who seek to inhibit me,
i would conquer them with love
If i was freedom the world would be free by now.
But im not freedom.
poem by Tafadzwa Jacha
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Died red
O rose, Black rose,
how I can not let go,
I grip your pointed ends,
and even as red falls from my wounds,
I can only grip tighter
The red falls, and creates a mirror image,
of you, black rose, died red
The sweet aroma of you, Death Rose,
Drifts above our heads,
as we wander, aimlessly,
through streets died red.
poem by Maddie Phish
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My Black Rose
You’re my Black Rose
I water you every day
I make sure I shine my light on you
I show you more love then any of my other roses that died
You’re the one
My Black Rose
Where would I be without such a beauty
What would I do without my Black Rose
I love my Black Rose
I’ll keep you forever
My Black Rose
I’ll make sure you’ll never die
I’ll make sure
To water you
I’ll make sure
To love you
I’ll make sure
To shine my light on you
My Black Rose
poem by Keith Young
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First rose
A heart of youthful year was yearning,
Crying out the pain; the burning
Tears would e’er remain until
An answer from the man would see them die.
A sympathetic mirror blessed her –
Softened up the curves, caressed her
Skin to help regain a calm –
Assuage a heaving breast and blushing eye.
And through a struggling mind, a chiming:
Someone at the door; the timing
Perfect and exquisite in the
Reconciliation of her woes.
She took the oak to make the parting,
‘Here! ’ a presentation startling.
Drawing deep through radiant lips, she
Kissed her very dream: a crimson rose.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Freedom is a Powerful Word
freedom is a powerful word
filled with glori and brightened eyes
freedom is a powerful word
where no black child is left behind
the despair of no hesitation
the depair of no education
freedom is a powerful word
freedom is a powerful word
where everyone gets a chance to be one
freedom is a powerful word
where a black man can raise his son
we got freedom
but we dont respect it
black boys droppin out of school
black girls gettin pregnant at early ages
these people fought for our rights
but all we do is abuse it
like i said freedom is a powerful word
are you sure we are free
why are we killing our own race
we are gettin involved in the wrong stuff
like gangs and selling drugs
smokin weed and makin d's
it aint right
freedom is a powerful word
if it is so powerful
dont abuse it
poem by Tatianna Biggs
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A Black Rose
a black rose i have at tide
a black rose will come and die
color so dark
stops a dogs bark
noone knows why
when you see it you gently cry
black rose brings death
black rose is too much
its power so strong
its power will long
Everyone is Going Monkeys
A lonely Black Rose
There is a black rose
she is very lonely
if only
someone would come
and spend time with the rose
She lives in nowhere
where cars drive by
never stop
Will someone spend time with the Black Rose?
Can anyone change this dark, black rose to a light, white rose? ?
will somebody hear her cry?
somebody please hear her cry!
poem by Kait Bebelheimer
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A Lonely Black Rose
A lonely Black Rose
There is a black rose
she is very lonely
if only
someone would come
and spend time with the rose
She lives in nowhere
where cars drive by
never stop
Will someone spend time with the Black Rose?
Can anyone change this dark, black rose to a light, white rose? ?
will somebody hear her cry?
somebody please hear her cry!
poem by Kait Bebelheimer
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Blue Rose
A red rose for love,
My red rose for luck.
The black rose on my bed,
For my death and for yours.
Red rose for the blood
That drips off my finger.
Black for the hate
The swells in my heart.
Pink for the joy,
The wonder of the world.
White for the pure,
Thats very far from me.
Yellow for the sunshine,
That lightens up our day.
Red for the heart,
That crumbled in my chest.
Black for the grave,
That I will be in after death.
Red, black, red, black.
Yellow, pink, blue
For my soul I leave.
Blue for me to wander.
Blue for the ocean,
And for my soul we share.
poem by Brianna Wilshusen
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The Guardian and BloodRose
BloodRose,
Rose of my love,
My love for Dark moon,
Dark as my heart,
Black as my soul,
And gave me my rose.
The rose of blood,
With petals soft and black,
Never as a rose so beautiful,
Grown not in light,
But under a dark moon lit sky.
Guardian,
Yes a guardian of BloodRose,
With teeth long and sharp,
Claws hard as diamonds,
Scales as dark as night.
My dear sweet guardian,
Guardian black as my heart,
Fire in your eyes,
Shadows in your soul,
A dragon of the dark moon.
A single rose,
With petals so fare,
As dark as my heart,
I now hold in my hand,
The rose of blood.
You are my darkness,
Fear of this love,
This love for you,
Love for darkness,
The cold shadows in my heart
That makes me yearn for you.
Now as you lay dying,
I hold a single rose,
The rose you gave me,
And as I hold it tight,
The thorns slice my hand,
Covered with blood,
My blood.
I have one fear,
The fear of death,
Symbol of my lost love,
Rose as dark as me,
Laying in a pool of blood,
Blood from me.
As I lay dying,
I remember my name,
BloodRose,
I am the rose of blood,
And I died of my own creation.
A creation of perfect beauty,
Petals dark black,
Thorns like small daggers,
Grown from my love,
My love for a dragon,
A dragon as dark as my heart.
Even in my death,
I think of you,
And the rose you gave me,
The rose that killed me,
The Rose of Blood.
poem by Nicolette Gonzalez
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A Black Rose in a Bed of Ash
a black rose lay in a bed of ash
everything burnt but that one rose
everything lost by did the rose not die?
what dose the rose mean
as the flmes formed and the fire burnt
things began to be no more
but the black rose
why not it go to
why not it burn first
no one sees it no one knows
it lye there all alone
nouthing on it
nouthing gone
just one black rosse in a bed of ash
poem by Sally Minns
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The Modality of Evil
Hey, freedom, come back!
Poor freedom turns black.
Oh, freedom! Dear freedom! is under attack.
I wish just this once I could take fear away.
I hope we'll soon see a more beautiful day.
Sensing a sick, saccharine despair,
I breathe in nothing but dusty, dead air.
Why am I crying? I choose to be alone.
This shroud of banality is never gone.
I do not consent to this hypocrisy.
But I guess I'll accept what I blindly see.
This masochistic culture breeds our defeat.
With loathing and tears, we just stare at our feet.
Inside their greed asylum, they wait:
Planning escape before it's too late.
Why do they quash any pure ideation?
Why do they keep destroying this foundation,
That was broken, that we rebuild every time?
No cause is given when one probes through their lies.
Why do we doubt any depraved things they've done?
Lost lives lay scattered, and it's only begun.
Seems it's our job to put it back right.
But what can be done without a fight?
Dear freedom, come back!
Poor freedom's turned black.
Oh, freedom! Our freedom! is under attack.
poem by Shalyn Stachmus
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The Black Rose
from a crevice of a rock
a black rose grows
it blooms on dark dreams
its petals are the ones that you do not ordinarily
see in the morning
the sun sometimes pays attention
to its being unusual
not being just any rose in the garden
it gives it more light hoping that someday
it may become white
the black rose is faithful
until it wilted
the dews miss it: the black rose is true
to its nature.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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