Picasso's Guernica Stigma Youth Symbol Martyrdoms
smoke rising as window civilization view remembers brighter days
before jack boot shade gray surrounding killed impaled freedoms
under slain horse dead dismembered soldier rapid heat rot perfumes
his hand on a severed arm still grasps
a shattered sword decay flower grows
his hand his severed arm sword parts
what symbolism here crimson reads?
written on leaf palms of dead soldiers
read open palm of our dead soldiers
stage repeated is written a cross centuries
centuries stigma youth symbol martyrdoms
derived not from stigmata Christ but wars
what light bulb blazes above dismembered corpses?
what evil eye shape Satan peeps over suffering horse's?
head what eureka moment invented bare bulb torturer's?
cell purpose so solitude removed from learned monks
cell which serves to silent vesper recite sacred palmists verses
symbolism relates to Spanish light bulb 'bombilla' makes
explodes allusions to bombs Nazi Guernica destruction effects
modern technologies promised blessings blast curse societies
not a single dropp of blood spoilt fails to cry out plaintive pains
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Related quotes
Counting Skeletons Maze Masterpiece War
counting skeletons
broken dreams
upon destruction rocks
lost dead souls
who died in revolutions wars
lost grand causes
festering generations
decline in dissent protests battles
paid for in blood baths
wasted lives
rotten corpses
dead heroes
scared or reluctant sacrifice souls
afraid to offend authorities rogue countries
play non-confrontational activities
I according to teenage character summaries
lack appeasement walk boldly where angels
fear to tread without orders unpredictable steps
nothing now apparently surprises
(communist/overt) dictatorships
initially often deceive their citizens
more honest sincere dictators
in home grown brutality policies
plan comparisons tests futures
dictator futures
are mind battles wells
blood bath souls...
Egyptian futures
are mind battles
wells blood cast souls
human rights
watch some watchers
pray pain tears
who naive ever believes
has ever believed histories
are progressive certainties
history time progresses
regions conflict civilizations
rise mold peak enslave falls
Pablo Picasso moments
painted Spanish Civil War screams
Guernica shows tragedies
war sown suffering festering war inflicts
upon drift swept caught conflict individuals
consumes pale innocent seed civilians
cubist monumental status
perpetual reminder tragedies
anti-war pigment symbols
black white intolerant party issues
suffering people animals landscapes
buildings wreckage violence chaos
stage left fractured wide-eyed bull stands
over a woman mother grieving pities
raw ruptured screams dead child in waste arms
events blasts centre stage frog marches
occupation horse falling in countless agonies
run through spear javelin bayonet thrusts
large gaping torn wounds realities cruelties
horse's sides life bleed potent swift years
devoured bull dictators devour ripe bellies
which human skull death brews demon changes
overlays the horse's body escape crushed kneels
gore fleet horse freedom underneath deceptions
bull's horns gore tossed rent sacrifices flesh forms blood rivers
break escape equestrian front facing legs sanctuary sought shelters
seeks knee blood ground knee in groin leg's knee wobble forms
skull caps counting coup taken head's nose concussion bleeds
horn appears within horse's breast to savage despair steal souls
bull's tail forms images flame worship incendiary burning bombs
smoke rising as window civilization view remembers brighter days
before jack boot shade gray surrounding killed impaled freedoms
under slain horse dead dismembered soldier rapid heat rot perfumes
his hand on a severed arm still grasps
a shattered sword decay flower grows
his hand his severed arm sword parts
what symbolism here crimson reads
written on leaf palms of dead soldiers
read open palm of our dead soldiers
what on open palm of dead soldier dark passion flowers?
is sacrifice a stigma a symbol of war martyrdom stupidities
derived stigmata paid Christ symbolizes humanities sins
stage repeated is written a cross centuries
centuries stigma youth symbol martyrdoms
derived not from stigmata Christ but wars
what light bulb blazes above dismembered corpses?
what evil eye shape Satan peeps over suffering horse's?
head what eureka moment invented bare bulb torturer's?
cell purpose so solitude removed from learned monks
cell which serves to silent vesper recite sacred palmists verses
symbolism relates to Spanish light bulb 'bombilla' makes
explodes allusions to bombs Nazi Guernica destruction effects
modern technologies promised blessings blast curse societies
not a single dropp of blood spoilt fails to cry out plaintive pains
living by swords strokes dying by degrees
in modern mega manic brutality policies
civilizations living slice sharing expansions
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Boot and Saddle
I
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
Chorus. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
II
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay—
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
III
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
IV
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Bloomfield from Cavalier Tunes (1842)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Cavalier Tunes: Boot and Saddle
Boot, saddle, to horse and away!
Rescue my Castle, before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay--
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Browning

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Underground Army
Ill be a soldier for you
Protect you and the cities surrounding too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Ill be a soldier for you
Lost in your spirit
Rolling down hills
But you cannot see you are
Nothing makes sense when everything else is
Finding the downside
Think of the faith were running out of days
Well get through the meantime
The road is long no forces drove home
But you will be all right
And I will feel better when you feel better
Ill be a soldier for you
Protect you and the cities surrounding too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Ill be a soldier for you
Go first in all that you do
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
You cant just love you and let you through
You seek out whenever home
So Ill stick around and help you figure out
These situations coming through
Weve come to an end and there is much to defend
And I will feel better when you feel better
Ill be a soldier for you
Protect you and the cities surrounding too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Ill be a soldier for you
Go first in all that you do
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Woah woah
I said Id be a soldier for you
Protect you and the cities surrounding too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Ill be a soldier for you
Go first in all that you do
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Your underground army will be swarming
If you just say you want me too
Oooohh Woooaaah
I said Ill feel better when you feel better
song performed by by Anastacia

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boot and Saddle
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my Castle, before the hot day
Brightens the blue from its silvery grey,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads array:
Who laughs, Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?"
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Browning

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Lonesome Poke Town
As the train was approaching a small town out West
The passenger looked out of the window and saw the most
beautiful horse in the world
The train was not scheduled to stop there
But, Jack, the passenger pulled the stop cord
Jack went into the train station He asked the station master about the
horse
He asked the station master about the horse
It so happened that he owned the horse
Jack asked if he could buy the horse
The station master said, 'Yes'
Jack paid the master $25.00
And the most beautiful horse was his now
And he named him 'Irish'
August 14,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham

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Two Grey Rooms
Tomorrow is sunday
Now theres only one day left to go
Till you walk by
Below my window
The weekends drive me mad
Holidays are oh too sad
cause you dont go
Below my window
No one knows Im here
One day I just disappeared
And I took these two grey rooms up here
With a view
When you walk by
Below my window
You look so youthful
Time has been untruthful
Heaven knows I loved you
30 years ago
Hot days your shirts undone
Rainy days you run
Oh and then you fade so fast
Below my window
No one knows Im here
One day I just disappeared
And I took these two grey rooms up here
With a view
Only when you walk by
Below my window
When you walk by
Below my window
Below my window
Hey hey
Below my window
Below my window
Below my window
song performed by by Joni Mitchell

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Soldier
I see it on the news.
Stories of soldiers being killed.
I always prayed that it's not you,
I wish I knew that you were safe,
I don't think that I can handle your death,
You are my soldier, and you
Mean everything to me….
The bombs exploding, I pray that you aren't hit.
That would cause my world to end.
I needed you in my life.
I pray that you would come home soon.
I know it was your dream
To be a soldier, protect the innocent
Tell me this, is it worth dying for?
Who is the enemy you are fighting?
Dead scared child with a gun?
Made me see that this war is useless
There is no hero, only a grief in a war
I wish war would end soon….
For you to come home, I missed you
I barely do anything these days
My heart stops, when I hear the door bell
Afraid to see a soldier on my door step
Telling me my worst fear, not seeing you live
Just heard the news of soldiers being killed.
I prayed that it was not you, my soldier.....
poem by Dush Swaranga

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Outlaw Song
early one days morning
i came upon a fine young horse
i mounted up and led him onward
he was gray as the sky above
as the sky above
i slept down by the river
and what a sad dream i had
i'm afraid my love
it must be true
today i will go and leave you
today i will be gone
i awoke and was surrounded
nine of the law stood before me
askin me my name and business
demanding proof of me
demanding proof of me
proof of me
what do you want from me
would you have me your prisoner
no but you must give us that horse
you must give us that roan gray horse
listen he aint for sale
never for the law to ride
if that should happen none would be safe
even the birds
even the birds
would be afraid to fly
so they ask again what was my name they ask again what was my name
two were dead before they could move
two were dead before they could move
thats my name
thats my name
if you please
thats my name
thats my name
if you please
song performed by by 16 Horsepower

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Dawn Arrives
He hums tonight through his streets,
My unlatched window the tune repeats,
The kerb-crawling car winds down to a stop.
A few seconds mumble then whisks him off.
Sick and tired of abuse,
Controlled signs of hysteria,
But like when dawn arrives,
He remembers his leisure.
He runs tonight through his block,
A crack in the curtain is unlocked.
No meeting with a mother or greeting a friend
A sharp-looking boot-jack with some time to spend.
Sick and tired of abuse,
Controlled signs of hysteria,
But like when dawn arrives,
He remembers his leisure.
He cries tonight
Through his manner
I can see his conscience
Get the better
From a door-way stepped in
Shadowed leather
Exchanging handshakes for money
And pleasure.
He crawls tonight through his scum,
From my dirty window his bodys numb.
Beneath the street-lamp tilts shoulders bent,
Then meets his pick-up who pays his rent.
Sick and tired of abuse,
Controlled signs of hysteria,
But like when dawn arrives,
He remembers his leisure.
His pleasure
song performed by by Madness

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldier, Soldier
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Why don't you march with my true love?"
"We're fresh from off the ship an' 'e's maybe give the slip,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
New love! True love!
Best go look for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best go look for a new love.
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
What did you see o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rifle-green,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did ye see no more o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to fly --
But you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did aught take 'arm to my true love?"
"I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll up an' tend to my true love!"
"'E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll down an' die with my true love!"
"The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside 'im --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Do you bring no sign from my true love?"
"I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
O then I know it's true I've lost my true love!"
"An' I tell you truth again -- when you've lost the feel o' pain
You'd best take me for your true love."
True love! New love!
Best take 'im for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best take 'im for your true love.
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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I Killed The Cat
damn i killed the cat
i can't believe it
a well placed kick killed
the cat yet no remorse
wait is that a smile
yea peaceful nights now
you waking up for cats yea
but no its not your life to take
you killed a living thing
it only a cat
there no where near extinction
so you have no problem
no the kids loved it
how do i explain it to them
ooh bury it and say it ran away
but they will be sad
sad! what sad face never killed
no one but my boot did
it collided in its tiny skull
it moaned till it pass
my god i killed the cat
i killed the cat
poem by Robert Roberts

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If aliens from outer space ever come and we show them our civilization and they make fun of it, we should say we were just kidding, that this isn't really our civilization, but a gag we hoped they would like. Then we tell them to come back in twenty years to see our REAL civilization. After that, we start a crash program of coming up with an impressive new civilization. Either that, or just shoot down the aliens as they're waving good-bye.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldier's Ghost
I bled for you - would you for me?
I blessed a skin in blazing fuel
Then took a bullet in a duel of
‘He or I to Die.'
I often question ‘Why? '
Do you?
My country was my life to give -
Would you for country cease to live?
Sinking in a mire of death,
You have no choice -
So while you're still alive,
Rejoice!
I cried in failure - did you care?
And as I waned, were you aware of
What I did -?
Fighting for my country while you hid
Behind your comfort back at home?
Still relaxed?
My wife and child are fading at the tomb.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier soldier war
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Dead Kids In War
He just happened upon them
In a field lying there in the tall
Grass on their backs, seemingly
Sleeping, but dead; two children
Of Finnish origins, maybe, at least
By where they’re found and area
Of ground. She lay as if trying to
Catch the sun’s attention, with one
Hand by her side, the other resting
On her thigh. The boy lay a little
Way away small fists clenched tight
As if frozen by death in pose to fight.
The soldier walked slowly around
Them beneath the hot sun, wiped his
Brow, reached inside his pocket for
A cigarette, fumbled for a lighter,
Stood over the girl six or seven,
She oblivious of her state of dress
Or how she lay. The soldier inhaled
Deep, the hot smoke hit his throat
Made him choke. Kids killed in cold
Blood in war; no joke. It was 1942
He remembers now, taking up the
Photograph of white and black,
Taken in midst of war and battle
Scarred and brain in fog, wearied
By march and sight and smell of death.
Whose kids they were he never knew,
Sleeping in death’s claim; two kids,
In a field without memory, without name.
poem by Terry Collett

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Mother’s Cry of Late
Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!
What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!
Now go you well!
Amen! ’
What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.
‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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I Stood With the Dead
I Stood with the Dead, so forsaken and still:
When dawn was grey I stood with the Dead.
And my slow heart said, 'You must kill, you must kill:
'Soldier, soldier, morning is red'.
On the shapes of the slain in their crumpled disgrace
I stared for a while through the thin cold rain...
'O lad that I loved, there is rain on your face,
'And your eyes are blurred and sick like the plain.'
I stood with the Dead ... They were dead; they were dead;
My heart and my head beat a march of dismay:
And gusts of the wind came dulled by the guns.
'Fall in!' I shouted; 'Fall in for your pay!'
poem by Siegfried Sassoon

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Connoisseurs
O look at the horses and people!
How they hurry and trample and fight!
And the smoke blowing over the steeple,--
O look, how the guns shine bright!
See this one, this soldier, he's swinging
His sword over head in the air;
How the shot must be leaping and stinging!
See the men falling down everywhere!
Isn't this what the white folks call the war?
I wonder what they are doing it for.
And there's the big flag flying splendid,
White stars pretty red, pretty blue,
All torn. Do you think 'twill be mended,
And fly out again, good as new?
See the blue coats and gray coats, --I'm sorry
They bleed and they suffer and die;
What made all the fighting and worry?
Can you think of the reason why
They killed each other, the gray and the blue?
O dusky children, it was for you!
poem by Celia Thaxter

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At Hiroshima's rock
I had to do a project on Hiroshima for school and I came across a poem about helping the victims at Hiroshima. That one poem inspired me to go and write this about a victim of Hiroshima.
P.S. For those of you who don't know the Enola gay was the plane that bombed Hiroshima
In solitude I walk
Down at Hiroshima’s rock
With the wind at my back
The sky itself was jet black
As I walk
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the white soldier
Down at Hiroshima’s rock I watch
Waiting on the world
Something will occur
For if nothing were to happen
The world would just arrest
As I walk
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the white soldier
I hope for the best
But hoping has done nothing
It has killed my friends
It has destroyed my country
As I walk
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the white soldier
I knew the war was on
All our support had been withdrawn
Peace was on the way
This could well be the last day
We all just want this to be over
As I walk
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the white soldier
I saw in the distance
The gray Enola gay
I knew right then
The war wasn’t over
As I was running to the ground
I saw little boy fall from the sky
I saw a huge flash of light
Then, I saw no more
As I walked
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the dead soldier
poem by Dillon Crawford

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I Want to be a Soldier
I will be a soldier
Only when soldiers realize
They are not animals or
cattles
Only if soldiers can ask
'Why should I shoot that
innocent man? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers can ask the
commander
'Why should we shoot at
the children? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers know that
The red blood that runs
through their veins
Runs in the rest peopl's too.
I would be a soldier if
Soldiers know they aren't
what they ask them to be
When they know that
The Emperor will never ask
them to kill his children
I would be a soldier
When soldiers realize war
is inhuman
When soldiers know war
always starts war
When they know that
World peace can not be
reached through war
When United Nations can
ask themselves
Is war the only way to end
corruption in the globe?
When soldiers know the
distance between peace and
war.
When soldiers realize how
intoxicative the gun is.
When soldiers realize
that gun does not control
them, but they control it.
I would be a soldier only if
soldiers know
why Martin Luther King jnr.
was killed.
If they know Adolf Hitler
also tried to make peace
through war.
I would be a soldier
If they can tell me why they
are only trained to kill.
I would be a soldier if
soldier can say
NO TO BRUTE LEADERS.
I would be a soldier if
soldiers know
the difference between
death and birth.
I would be a soldier if they
can tell
Why they are weapons of
destruction?
If they can explain why they
killed at Vietnam?
Why they killed at Somalia?
Why Ghadafi was killed
without trial?
Why Abraham Lincoln was
shot
Why Ghandi was killed,
Why they dont care if they
die in war in the name of
peace.
I would be a soldier If soldiers know they have rights If soldiers know they need Freedom. I would be a soldier If the goverments around the world realize How wonderful the world would be If the money invests in atomic weapons can be spent To feed billions of children on the streets of India, Nigeria, Brazil, South Africa The United States and all the streets of the World. I would be a soldier when soldiers can fight for liberty And not for slavery When soldiers know that nobody should think for them When soldiers know they are humans not cattles, When they realize that nobody should tell them what to think and what to feel. If soldiers can be humans, I would be a soldier.
poem by Idris Adesina

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