Poetry Challenge #7 21/10/2012

War huh! what is it good for absolutely nothing. Huh!

I’ve got a friend, he’s a pure-bred killing machine
He says he’s waited his whole damn life for this
I knew him well when he was seventeen
Now he’s a man he’ll be dead by Christmas

The eastern world, it is exploding
Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’
You’re old enough to kill, but not for votin’
You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’”

“In 1965 Vietnam seemed like just another foreign war
But it wasn’t
It was different in many ways, as so were those that did the fighting
In World War II the average age of the combat soldier was 26
In Vietnam he was 19”

“And the battle’s just begun
There’s many lost, but tell me who has won
The trench is dug within our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters torn apart”

Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I’ve witnessed all your suffering
As the battle raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

Yes, how many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky ?
Yes, how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry ?
Yes, how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died ?
The answer my friend is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

Hello this week for my poetry challenge on war I have cobbled together a strange poem. This poem is made up of verses from lyrics to anti war songs. I think that they do make a strange sense. Below I have cited the the songs and owners of the words.

Edwin Star


Barry McGuire

Paul Hardcastle

U2 –

Dire Straits

 Bob Dylan

I have said all I can about war and so this week I shall not repeat myself . I shall just leave it to music of John Lennon and the voices of children to say it all for me.

Poetry Challenge #7 is to create a journal of links and your reactions to poems by established (living or dead poets.) Details are here.  Example response is here. Mr. Linky for Challenge #7 is directly below

The hole in me

There is a hole in me. I know it is there but it is somewhere that I can’t see.

I feel it is slowly eating me but I don’t know why.

Something bad has a hold it will not let me fly.

There is a hole in my stomach and it is eating me. Growing and growing devouring me .

Why am I suffering what have I done wrong the pain has been gnawing at me for so long.

Suddenly I realize that the pain is not in me, the pain is in my child why could I this not see.

I bore them, I love them I have set them free. So why does their pain keep plaguing me.

Angel Tears

Angel tears angel fears angel angel what did you see before you disappeared .

Angel small angel light why were you so short for this life.Angel beauty angel dear what are we to do without you here.

Angel loving angel gone can you still hear your mothers song.Tell me angel tell me dear what type of world have we created here that all our innocents are not safe and can so easily spirited away by  evil wraiths.




I sit and watch the rain as it relentlessly falls like tears down the window pane.I can see you but can you see me locked up inside here longing to be free.

I may look like you flesh and bones but inside I am frozen, cold, cold made of stone.

Make the right noises do the correct things follow the pattern and accept the shit life brings. All around, you see people fall, fools and jokers one and all.

And still that rain falls pear drop tears plop plop on the window sill echoing and amplifying this world of fears.

Best close the window and lower the blind take hold of your memories, throw them over your shoulder and leave them behind. Behind? it is thorny, bleak landscapes and skies that are black. Forward, forward one foot after the other and never look back.

Deep breath now life must go on. I maybe cold and empty but I can’t change what has gone. So on with smile force a light into my eyes and  treat with care whatever crumbs of happiness that fall from the skies.


I bared my soul today I cracked open my chest and offered you my bleeding heart. I crawled across broken class and laid myself bare to you and you just laughed…………

I begged, I pleaded, I appealed to your kinder side, you slapped my face called in your friends so I had nowhere to hide.

You put me on the rack of your contempt and dribbled acid like bile. To hurt me deeply you were hell bent.

You exposed everyone of my deepest darkest secrets all the thoughts I entrusted to you and you alone. You tied me down and stripped my skin down to the bone.

You exposed every nerve every muscle you ripped me limb from limb and tossed me to the wolves.

I am sorry I couldn’t stand it any more something cracked when you called me a filthy whore. All the things you had done all the names and games you called me in fun. I am finished now I am stronger than you I am ready to admit to and pay for what I have done.

May it burn their ears

It’s was always the same she got left out of their games. Pushed around and ostracized, taunted with nasty names. If she tried to ask for help they made a worse reprise.

Her tummy and her head always caused her pain, mum took her to the Drs, again and again. So why did no one see the hurt did no one see her tears somehow it all got missed through out the early years.

Puberty and another set of rules she changed faster and looked different from them which made their tongues more  cruel.

She worked hard and kept her head down but that did her no good they painted on her  coat “I AM THE SCHOOL CLOWN’. She just accepted that…well they new she would.

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Always out on a limb always on her own surrounded by many but always left alone .

Every year she’d tell herself this one would be better every year they found nastier and meaner ways to get  her.

In her room at home she’d sit and cut herself the blood felt good as it seeped away that was pain she could control and she did so every day.

She cut her arms she cut her thighs and below her waist anywhere that didn’t show it all hurt less than the bullying she faced.

Home was no escape you see her mobile and the computer were just another way the bullies could get to her.Such wicked lies and doctored images of her, she just could find no peace . She blessed the days she got off sick for they were a release. Rest-bite for a while until they came to visit and fooled her mum with a smile.

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Eventually all the cutting that she did could not compensate for the messages, the gossip on face book the texts and all the hate.

She could not tell her teachers she could not tell her mum there was no one else she could tell so what was to be done.

They took some pictures of her in the changing room. They posted them on face book, beebo and myspace too. She knew they were all laughing at her but  what was she to do.

Her mum was worried witless by the state of her lovely girl , she was pale and listless and hair fell out by the curl. Even worse she suspected that she was cutting herself she’d found a bloodied blouse dropped on the laundry shelf.

Determined she could sort this her mum went up to the school , everyone told her that her mum was such a fool.

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They found her Monday morning hanging in the hallway, some screamed some cried some where sick but not one of them had a nasty word to say. So yes she had silenced them but at such a price  she paid so dearly for them to stop, she paid for their silence with her life.

The whole school attended  the funeral , flowers ever where, and photos of her, she was a very pretty girl, that made them stop and stare.

They had never really look at her, her tormentors and her piers. I hope they learned the lesson and that her suicide note burns their ears.

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There is too much bullying too much weight on how you look , well beauty is skin deep if you look into my book.

It isn’t only girls who get bullied and pushed around there are just as many boys who have bullies screwing them around.

The Fan

Such a beauty standing there white flowers in your jet black hair. Starry dreams within your eyes , the kind that make young men’s spirits to rise.

Golden brown skin young and unlined  and a smile that could the sun blind.

In you grasp a leaf shaped fan. That fan is the envy of many a young man. There you stand in your dress of green, unaware that you are the most glorious sight that anyone has ever seen.

Gently you glide through life free as a bird for now , not yet anyone’s chattel or wife.




A few years on some of your sparkle gone, you have had to learn a new song.

Invisible ties hold you down your wings have been clipped and you are tethered to the ground.

Your sparkling eyes are now cast down, yet you still look stunning in your golden gown.

Your lustrous hair still your crowning glory your eyes more than your lips tell your story.

No longer the leaf shaped fan of your youth you carry now the woman’s fan of truth.


This poem was inspired by the work of  CongQuocHa

you can find more of his work on his blog http://congquocha.wordpress.com/gallery-4/#comment-267

Why are we falling apart.

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Stop, stop you are breaking my heart. Why now, why is it all falling apart. It was good, it was great at the start so why why is it all falling apart.

You no longer listen to a word that I say, there is a split and it is growing larger every day.Why, oh! why when it was so good are we throwing it all away.

Stop, stop shouting at me , the louder you shout the less likely I am to agree. We were so together, what was it that happened that made you hate me.

Falling, falling apart. I can’t take much more you are breaking my heart. Listen, please listen don’t slam that door because if you do there will be no way back to how it was before.

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Poetry Challenge #7 15/10/2012

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Oh! so many gods, so many creeds,
So many paths that wind and wind,
While just the art of being kind
Is all the sad world needs.


Ella Wheeler Wilcox (November 5, 1850 – October 30, 1919) was an American author and poet. Her best-known work was Poems of Passion. Her most enduring work was ” Solitude“, which contains the lines: “Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone”. Her autobiography, The Worlds and I, was published in 1918, a year before her death.


This is a short and very sad, sad poem. A sad indictment on the world, many creeds, many path , too much talk and bluster when all that is needed is love.

Poetry Challenge #7 is to create a journal of links and your reactions to poems by established (living or dead poets.) Details are here.  Example response is here. Mr. Linky for Challenge #7 is directly below


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We stood on the edge of eternity and watched the birth of a supernova. Two lost souls tired of heart our numbered days over.

We new of this coming, we had seen the light but we could not believe that this spelt endless night.

In my hand the last living flower. Tears I shed like rain that fell as a meteor shower. Alone we stood, alone and cold we saw our future as in it’s last seconds it did unfold.

The light was amazing it was psychedelic it shot from horizon to horizon  it lit the known, unknown, the chapel and it relics. Then all was silent and all was still  as the last of winds took us and we vacated our tortured bodies of our own free will.

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