Shellshock
The horrors in store when men go to war,
Will break the fragile hearts of men.
When those men come home to kiss and hug their wives and kids,
They won't be the same.
Their eyes have seen the death and distruction that war leaves in it's path, these men will never be the same.
They are shellshocked,
Forced to repeat those horrors again and again.
They are shellshocked,
War tears out the hearts of men.
Johnathan came home from Iraq,
He has a wife and two kids.
The horrors were haunting his mind,
back in the kitchen his wife dropped a pan.
He's now doing 5-10 in a 8x10,
All for the Iraq war.
He is shellshocked,
He is paying for his country pride.
He is shellshocked,
War tore the heart out of that man.
poem by J.D. Decker
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The Girl With Demon Eyes
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
A girl raped and they say it was justified.
She was asking for it by being such a tease.
Wearing skin tight cloths.
Walking with a strut saying I know you want it.
But you'll never have it.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
Her brother died trying to stop it.
His head got shoved right through a window by three men.
The glass broke and dropped slashing his throat.
And the men turned back on her.
She could smell the whiskey on their breath even from distance.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
She knew what they wanted.
But looking at her brother she had to fight it.
She grabbed the nearest object she could get her hands on.
And clobbered the biggest one of the bunch with a lamp.
Down he went crashing right across the coffee table.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
The other two grabbed her and started ripping off her cloths.
She screamed multiple times at the top of her lungs.
Kicking, punching, and clawing her way to be free.
And it was not a completely an unanswered plea.
The a man and his wife next door heard the woman being brutalized.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
He thundered, call 911 I'm going to grab my gun.
Tossed her his cell phone, as he started running.
To bedroom he went.
No hesitation, for it was a matter of life and death.
Meanwhile these gruff men were taking turns forcing her to do unspeakable acts and her brother just lay there unable to move.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want see.
By the time he made it their these men were already in their car.
They peeled out like never before.
He shot at them but only took out one of there headlights.
The front door was wide open.
And there on the floor lied a naked woman crying out for her brother.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
He knew not what to do.ay's
hits
He first grabbed a blanket to cover her up.
Then he went to see about her brother,
The brother was gurgling something.
He listen closely and heard these words.
'I don't want to die here, but if I do tell her I love her.'
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
He tried to put pressure on this mortal wound.
But her brother lost too much blood.
With sadden eyes he went back and whispered something in her ear.
She screamed out in agony.
'Oh how can this be'
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
The cops and ambulance finally arrived.
With all the flashing lights onlooker came and gawked.
Witness statements were taken.
Descriptions were given.
One of these men still lay on her floor.
Unconsciousness but not dead.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want see.
The others didn't get far.
They made to the bar.
As it happens too be one she frequented very often.
They claimed that took them her house.
Where her brother was also temporarily staying.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want to see.
They said she agreed to a threesome till he got involved.
But she said they followed and forced their way into her home.
Figuring she was all alone.
But she was not.
And that's when things went all wrong.
A cloudy image appears before me.
Who is that with demon eyes?
They speak of horrors that I never want see.
The cops discovered that she was telling truth.
For their was an eye witness on the other side of the street.
Who saw the whole thing.
The question that bothered the police is why this did nothing about what the witness saw.
The witness thought by the way woman dressed that she deserved it.
This was the story behind those demon eyes.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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She Wants To Play Hearts
I am a broken toy
For a lonely girl
Use once and destroy
And go find some more
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
She wants to play a game of hearts
I'm the rag doll boy
With broken eyes
She only comes to me
When it's raining outside
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
She wants to play a game of hearts
I fell for you
I fell for you
Why?
I guess I wanted to play too.
Here's the lonely string
Playing 'long in my head
For only just my arms
Are dancing marionettes
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
And she wants to play a game of hearts
She wants to play a game of hearts
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bloody Eyes (Sonnet)
Deep in the darkness horrors lurk
Horrors of a homophobic racist jerk
Horrors of a life destroyed by family
Horrors of person who wanders idly
In the darkness there is no hope
For he has wrapped his neck with that rope
He is prejudice and mean to others
But to me he is like my only brother
I love that jerk to pieces, he can be so kind
I love his bravery, his intuitive mind
But in his darkness I see such pain
He thinks in life there is nothing to gain
My wonderfully horrible cousin doesn’t cry
Instead I see a trickle of blood in his eye
poem by Lenore Lee
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I Am Proud To Say
the horrors
of life, we were
there to confront
all the horrors
of life,
at first it was
a struggle to be
free
and then it is not
anymore
it has become
a lifestyle
and so we get
used to all
these horrors
and they are not
horrors anymore
they become
facts that we
face everyday
without anymore
the fear
these everyday
every minute
we conquer them
with nothing
but a blank face
this numbness
that chews
what seemingly
is horrible
at first but now
they have become
us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Thief Of Hearts
He’s real good looking and dresses real slick
He’s an older man looking for a pretty young chick
He tells everyone he’s single and new in town
Don’t believe the pretty words, he’s been around
He tell you he’s not married and so lonely now
With you it was love at first sight, doesn’t know how
He will promise you the moon and pledge his love for life
He will forget to tell you, back home he has a wife
Flowers and candy, so romantic he will be
He might even serenade you and get down on one knee
He makes frequent trips back to his hometown
He’ll say to see the kids, can’t let them down
He won’t be around for a holiday or birthday
Can’t let his wife know that he will betray
She thinks she’s got a wonderful marriage to him
She doesn’t know he came home only on a whim
He’s a thief of hearts, you will be his prey
He won’t be there when you need him anyway
You’ll be his plaything when he has time to burn
He’ll be with his wife and kids with the money he earns!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Act of God?
A coin when dropped will
In one second, fall sixteen feet
In two, sixty four
In three, one hundred and forty four.
They were driving back from Sydney
Mum and Dad and their two kids
The freeway was a nightmare
So they took the old road that they did.
The old road’s quite an old road
Been there for many years
The rain was slanting sideways
Being late home was their fear.
It was night and many lights were out
The road was dark and quite awash
Water running everywhere
The kids shrieked with every splash.
A short drive now back to the warmth
Of the house in which they lived
A short drive back now to that home
Where they brought up both their kids.
Just two and three I think they were
A precious time of life
The kids strapped in the back seat
In the front was man and wife.
A dip there in the road appeared
Just where there is a creek
But we’ll be home soon they both said
Both kids were now asleep.
‘Slow down now, that’s deep water’
Said the man unto his wife
Those were the very final words
He would utter in his life.
One hundred feet, one hundred feet
One hundred feet or more
Was the depth of that great puddle
Into which the rain had poured.
It was at a place called Somersby
When the rain had drained away
That they winched up that death carriage
On the following grey day.
Yes, the chasm it was very deep
A Grand Canyon not a puddle
So for everyone upon that road
And every time you loved ones cuddle
Just think of those four driving home
And think of their full fright
And hold each other closely
Each and every single night
We should live for every minute
We should relish every hour
For simple stupid circumstance
Can destroy life’s fragile flower.
A coin when dropped will
In one second fall sixteen feet
In two, sixty four
In three, one hundred and forty four.
It was that deep.
I met the family's best friend in a local pub yesterday. He had just got back from identifying the bodies.
poem by David Keig
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Colic Spirits
Horrors of horrors,
this deity be ill.
Rape of a virgin
and a heart frozen still.
Pinioned objections
drown her in lust.
Colic spirits
lost in the dusk.
poem by Johann Graham
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Before our kids start coming home from Iraq in body bags and women and children start dying in Baghdad, I need to know, what did Iraq do to us?
quote by Susan Sarandon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thats Why Im Here
(shaye smith/mark alan springer)
No I aint had nothing to drink
I knew thats probably what youd think
If I dropped by this time of night
Remember way back when
I promised you Id drop in
At one of those meetings down at the y
Well, they started talkin bout steps you take
Mistakes you make
The hearts you break
And the price you pay
I almost walked away
You could hear a pin drop
When this old man
Stood up and said Im gonna say it again
Like I do every week
For those who dont know me
Its the simple things in life
Like the kids at home and a loving wife
That you miss the most, when you lose control
And everything you love starts to disappear
The devil takes your hand and says no fear
Have another shot, just one more beer
Yah, Ive been there, thats why Im here
This ole boy stood up in the aisle
Said hed been living a life of denial
And he cried as he talked about wasted years
I couldnt believe what I heard
It was my life word for word
And all of the sudden it was clear
Its the simple things in life
Like the kids at home and a loving wife
That you miss the most, when you lose control
And everything you love starts to disappear
The devil takes your hand and says no fear
Have another shot, just one more beer
Yah, Ive been there, thats why Im here
I know for us it may be too late
But it would mean the world to me
If you were there when I stand to say
Its the simple things in life
Like the kids at home and a loving wife
That you miss the most, when you lose control
And everything you love starts to disappear
The devil takes your hand and says no fear
Have another shot, just one more beer
Yah, Ive been there, thats why Im here
Oh, Ive been there, thats why Im here
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Horror Of Horrors Has Not Happened To Me
THE HORROR OF HORRORS HAS NOT HAPPENED TO ME
The horror of horrors has not happened to me-
No Palestinian terrorist entered my house and stabbed my wife and myself to death
And slit the throat of our three year old child
And put a knife in the heart of our three- month old baby-
No tsunami came and swept our house and world away -
No Nazi pulled my beard kicked me and laughed
Before shooting my head off -
No I have not known the violent death which today and yesterday
And so many days before
Has taken innocent people from this world-
I don’t know what it is
It has never happened to me
And yet
And yet
I fear and fear more
That there is no end to this kind of evil
And even if I make it to a quiet deathbed exit
There is no future guarantee against more and more horror and evil -
We live in a world
Too sad and frightening for us
And however fortified by lessons from the past
There is no defence against the next evil surprise -
Oh God I pray to You with all my heart
But I still fear also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Reunion
I dreamed that I reached home after a long voyage
And I searched for my kids.
Then my wife said; ' They have gone on a holiday.'
I grumbled her to bring my children back.
But I realized they are alredy belong to their lovers
Yes, they were married and living far away.
The same moon we see on different poles in this awful night.
Wife and myself we are at the edge of the world.
Our hearts cry for the reunion and we are scared
As the days are running and we left behind.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Odysseus' Fate
Through horrors of land and horrors of sea
Bereft and wandering, Odysseus,
God-fearing wretch, sought Ithaca;
Unfaltering, he plunged into the gloom of Hades;
The roar of fierce Charybdis and underwater Scylla's groans
Shook not his noble soul.
His patience vanquished cruel fate, it seemed,
And to the dregs he'd drunk the bitter cup.
It seemed the heav'ns were done with testing him
And drove him softly, slumbering,
To homeland's longed-for cliffs.
He waked: what then? He did not know his home.
poem by Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
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Letter To A Soldier
Letter To A Soldier
A soldier got a letter, from the one he loved the most,
he looked at her new picture and he began to boast,
about his lovely wife and their kids back home,
which made all his buddies, think about their own,
when he was all alone, with her letter in his hand,
he thought about the love they had, and began to understand,
the reasons he had for fighting, and the sacrifices he had to make,
so the freedom of his family, no one could ever take,
he kissed the letter as though it was his wife,
it would have to do him, through all his pain and strife,
he kept the letter with him, right next to his heart,
as if it would protect him, during the battles he knew would start,
though many men were wounded, and some of them had died,
he kept the letter with him, it gave him strength inside,
the letter told him, all he had to know,
that his family missed him, and they loved him so,
so all you married ladies, with a husband in Iraq,
send him a little something everyday, until he finally does come back,
tell him about the children and the little things they do,
tell him how much you love him, you know he misses you,
soon this war will be over, and the killing all will end,
there will be a smile upon your face, when you welcome home,
YOUR BEST FRIEND.
written by Harry Bryant
28 August 2008 ©
all rights reserved
poem by Harry Bryant
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On The Front Line
I am a fireman here at home
And I put my life on the front line everyday
To save the people from burning buildings
Or from car accidents
Someday I am very lucky because I am able to save people from burning
Buildings and car accidents
But other days I am not so lucky because it depends where the fire is on The building
Sometimes I have to climb all the way to the top of the buildings
Very fast to save the people from the burning buildings here at home
Other times the fire on the buildings happened on the lower floor
Yes there had been times that I could not save the people from the
Buildings here at home because the buildings here at home had been Engulfed with smoke and all the people that live there died
Yes that was a very bad scene to see
At the end of the night I go home for my kids and my wife
When I arrive home my kids and my wife are already sleeping in bed
I don't have very much time to spend with my children
Because of my work
I don't enjoy being a fireman but the pay is good
So I don't have anything to complain about
I never talk about my work at home
At home I talk about different things to my wife and kids
But I know that my day starts very early everyday
poem by Aldo Kraas
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War
Iraq war, any old war
all built on false pretense,
Iraq war, any old war
doesn't make any sense.
There are no winners
when wars are fought.
There are only lies
which have been bought.
Iraq war, any old war
are created by the rich.
Iraq war, any old war
creates for them a niche.
But for the ones who go and fight
and never are the same,
They go and visit a wall that's built
that's home to their brother's name.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Maggie and Max
Our son married a flibbertygibbet,
my wife says, and I agree,
but he loves Maggie very much
so I say let's keep quiet.
It's not our place to criticize.
Max is 33, and not long
back from Iraq.
I remind my wife
that Maggie can cook
better than most
so let's give her a chance.
Max works two jobs
and he's never home.
Maggie's young.
Maybe the baby will help
but I doubt it.
Too bad Maggie
didn't take to quilting,
my wife points out.
The ladies at church
did their best to teach her.
But quilters, I remind her,
don't go out at midnight
to places nobody knows.
My wife keeps asking
why Max married Maggie.
I don't know what to say.
Finally I tell her I never saw
any woman walk like Maggie.
My wife says I never will.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Bound For Glory
Out on the trans-canada highway
There was a girl hitchhiking with her dog
Fireflies buzzin round her head
Like candles in the fog.
He was three miles down the road
Tryin to stay up, but he knew that he couldnt
She was looking for a ride through the night
But out there, who wouldnt.
They were bound for glory
Bound for living on the edge
They were bound for each other
Like two comets heading for a bed.
She had a new way of living
New way of looking at life
He had an 84 international and two kids
He left back home with his wife.
He was tired of writin letters to himself
And living in the dark
She was open to suggestions
And some say she had a broken heart.
He had everything he wanted
til it all turned out to be a job
One fallen asleep trucker
And a girl hitchhiking with her dog.
They were bound for glory
Bound for living on the edge
They were bound for each other
Like two comets heading for a bed.
She had a new way of living
New way of looking at life
He had an 84 international and two kids
He left back home with his wife.
Out on the trans-canada highway
The sun came climbing up the cab
By the time it hit the window they were wakin up
From what little sleep they had.
When that heat hit the blankets
They were looking for love at second sight
Just starin in each others eyes
Findin it in the mornin light.
They were bound for glory
Bound for living on the edge
They were bound for each other
Like two blankets layin on a bed.
She had a new way of living
New way of looking at life
He had an 84 international and two kids
He left back home with his wife.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are Those Who Have Known Daily Horrors
THERE ARE THOSE WHO HAVE KNOWN DAILY HORRORS
I have had a relatively easy life-
There are those who have known daily horrors
Beyond those any human being should ever have to imagine
I think of the last generation of survivors of the Shoah
Slowly dying out now
Taking with them their memories of loved ones murdered before their eyes
Of incredible tortures and cruelty
Of horrible partings and endless humiliations-
I think of these people my fellow Jews
And wonder why God allowed it to happen to them
And what it all means-
I certainly don't know-
I have had a relatively easy life
With of course my own griefs and sorrows and failings
But nothing at all like what they went through -
Oh God what is this whole thing about anyway?
And why did You let the Nazi Germans and their Austrian Polish Lithuanian Slovak Romanian Hungarian Dutch French helpers
Do it to them?
Why families with tens of members murdered
Why the children?
The incredible cruelties and humiliations and horrors
Why?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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terrorism ***** SADDAM HUSSEIN IN NEW IRAQ
He was the dictator
in the old Iraq
the once fertile
the abandoned garden
of Eden rushed
It was always his
first word as the final and executory
handed down from
holocaust- master the
Austrian blood Hitler
in infamous Nazi era
and Saddam tragic death sentence
provoked his old Iraq was beaten
and democracy is running down
in new Iraq alas!
million patriots cheer!
their hearts pound firm
resurrecting freedom
in new Iraq at last!
but I am saddened
with too much grief
children's laughter today
will turn into blues
someday somehow as they grow
they will learn
their new Iraq acquired freedom
is under US Marines GI Joes custody
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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saddam Hussein In New Iraq
He was the dictator
in the old Iraq
the once fertile
the abandoned garden
of Eden rushed
It was always his
first word as the final and executory
handed down from
holocaust- master the
Austrian blood Hitler
in infamous Nazi era
and Saddam tragic death sentence
provoked his old Iraq was beaten
and democracy is running down
in new Iraq alas!
million patriots cheer!
their hearts pound firm
resurrecting freedom
in new Iraq at last!
but I am saddened
with too much grief
children's laughter today
will turn into blues
someday somehow as they grow
they will learn
their new Iraq acquired freedom
is under US Marines GI Joes custody
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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