Iron Men

Tags

Iron, Leaders, Men, poetry, President, Troops, Ukraine, Ukraine_Russia_conflict, War, Writing, Zelenskyy

When I think of great war leaders
I think of iron men like President 
Zelenskyy who, even under such
provocation, will never bend to
dictators. 

His face like a granite mask at 
times, maintaining his 
composure whilst carrying the 
weight of tens of thousands of 
newly recruited troops on his 
shoulders, and thousands of
wounded and fallen in his 
heart.

Desire For Peace

Tags

Buddhism, Life, Lotus Flower, Love, nature, Peace, poetry, Purity, spiritual, War, Writing

The versatility of nature to thrive, even in the 
most harshest of conditions. The Lotus flower will
regenerate many times over, is as pure as they come:
Born in mud and returned to it at night, it will emerge
clean in the light hours from the murky water to 
produce beautiful, prominent blossoms, opening
like the womb of the world: A break in the water's 
surface heralds it's arrival, victory of spirit, a 
beginning. Pacification, an end to war, desire for 
peace.    

We Are A Nation At War

Tags

Life, poetry, Politics, Sabotage, War, Writing

We believe the lies they tell us, 
that's our first mistake,  
to blindly follow, 
and to insist on always being right,
never having self-awareness,
it has swept across this land 
like a disease, 
and dare each other on,
without deliberation or debate 
attacking the national defence, 
the heart of our constitution;
when human endeavour
fails to satisfy.
And having risked it all for nothing,
we feel compromised,
we lie still like hawks waiting for nets 
to be thrown over us: 
We are a nation under siege:
A nation at war with one other,
a nation on our knees, 
destroying ourselves gradually 
by little acts of self-sabotage. 

The Rules of Engagement

Tags

Life, Love, Peace, poetry, Time, War, Writing

The rules of engagement are simple  
and as timely as you can draw a breath, 
for it's always the right time, 
and warrant no further analysis:
Lay down your arrows -
leave your weapons at the gate.
Bring plenty of wine. 

Blood-Red Moon

Tags

Freindship, Life, Peace, poetry, Prose, War

You reign underneath a blood-red moon where the stars do    
not align and the clouds appear indiscriminately like rising   
armies or lions or lionesses.    
You have lived nine lives, like a cat, and squandered every one,  
and you are nine times cruel.  

You led the charge, predictably you grew bored. You were 
lucky to escape with your bones intact and your innards intact.
It's criminal the way you behave - to drag everyone else into
battle. You could have called for a ceasefire at any point. I'm
alluding to the war in your head. Unlike you, peace is my thing, 
it's a contagion. And I'm at my happiest when dealing it
out. 

Don't be surprised when they come for you and lock you 
away in a mental institution and throw away the key; They'll
make a statue out of your head and tear it down, and tow you 
away with old ropes and the strength of people's feeling; It's not
advantageous to remain dead and a deadbeat, it's a pity you never
found the courage to turn it around. How ever did you manage to 
evade justice for so long, they'll be saying. Never was there a more 
horrendous war and no one more deserving of a scathing 
response. 

You'll live out your days like a drooling fool - A maddening, in 
cahoots with the devil,  only the insane would consummate such 
a marriage. You're locked into your skin for all time and evermore  
and forever and a day. You'll never know the beauty of being alive, 
to have found it, touched it, needed it. Peace, for you, was a step  
too far. 

They'll erase the memory of you, it will be like you were never 
born to begin with. It'll be the day everyone throws up their arms 
and cheers: You left nothing but old tales of war and destruction 
in your wake, truly you were despised by everyone. You've only 
ever been a terrorist. I couldn't be less eager to please you, 
given the opportunity. 
You, old friend, are a voice I can live without; you are as stained  
as the battle scars you wear. 

I'm sure some will allude to the fact you are misunderstood -
but not me, I'm more knowledgeable than you gave me credit for;
I can spot a lie in daylight and during the night, from fifty miles
away. You're as predicable as the crow flies, I could set my watch 
by your insults, for the number of times you went back on 
your word. 

There's a fundamental flaw in the making of you; your 
development – you were bullied one time, now you have 
become the aggressor. Haven't you learnt a single thing, 
puppet-master? 
You'll not pull my strings or lead me into battle. Peace keeps me  
light, on tiptoes and in high-heels, I'll only ever reach for peace. 
What's good lasts eternally; evil ties itself in knots. 

I'm viewing it from all angles, like a scientist would. 
You should know by now, I'll always speak the truth, I won't
lie to spare my voice. 

If I never write another poem again, I'm glad I wrote this. You 
should have known better than to provoke a response from me,
it would eventually come out in the wash. I'm not sorry our 
friendship has come to this, I remain blissfully ignorant of all 
you do.
I remember you for being mean hearted; what a tale you have to   
tell the children. What a tale!  

Half of My Life

Tags

Life, poetry, Verse, War, Writing

I've spent half of my life  
tiptoeing along corridors 
and through rooms where  
people are still asleep 
and still dreaming.  
Occasionally, I feel impulsed  
to nudge them all awake, and to 
remind them that life is 
happening before their eyes; 
there's so much to do and 
to discuss: 'Don't you realise 
war has broken out in the 
Middle-East?' And that the 
world is on fire.' And what 
are we going to do
about it all? 
And there's plenty of time to 
sleep when we're dead. 

We Went To War

Tags

Anti-War, History, poetry, War, Writing

It's been decided, 
soon it will be written in the history books 
for the world to see:
We went to war,
we killed ten thousand,
we'll kill ten thousand more.

A line has been drawn in the sand:
We went to war and killed ten thousand men, 
we'll kill again,
what's it all been for?
We stand divided now.

It's been decided,
it's not your land, but ours,
and forever more,
thus we went to war.  

Soon it will be written in the history books 
for the world to see:
We killed ten thousand men,
we'll kill again,
we'll kill ten thousand more. 

War Talk

Tags

Love, poetry, Relationships, War, Writing

For all the talk of war,  
for all the bravado:   
A staggering show of defiance,  
save for the distant rumbling of thunder;  
it sounds so innocuous it would barely cause a stir. 
Ah, but there are always murmurings.  

Conflict

Tags

Conflict, Humor, humour, Life, poetry, War, Writing

I'd like to call for a halt in proceedings for now,
if that's OK. 
a ceasefire in our hundred year war and ongoing
ground offensive currently taking place 
in our living-room.
And since we've had very little in the way of relief,
an assurance of humanitarian aid, 
should it be required,
ahead of any impending dispute. 

Dogs Of War

Tags

Life, poetry, Psychological, Voice, War, Writing

In order to avert another crisis 
you must first prepare the battleground,
select your weapon of choice carefully,
like it were a voice; 
a marching army of words,
if you are to let slip the dogs of war.