The Crow Queen and The Human

Resting  where she had landed the crow queen sat and took stock. The humans had let her down again but not so had this member of her flock. Nestling in her lap he tried to ease her mind . He understood her non belief at how her husband could be so unkind.

She had married the human in good part eyes open, and wholeheartedly all she had asked of him was when she needed to, he would let her fly free. She only asked her flock be allowed to roost near by and that when there was no moon she could be with her feathered family and fly.

Why had he not trusted her, why had he lied. Why had he taken her and into a giant cage he had, had her tied .  Why had he not listened to her as she begged him please, not to tie her down like this, to trust her to return all she needed was release.

When he had  been sleeping in a drunken haze she had picked at her ties and tethers it had taken days. Her favourite crow brother had come to her aid. With his beak he had opened the lock on her cage. She who would of loved and cherished this man rushed out and took his life in a rage.

With her nails like talons she ripped open his chest but pausing before she ripped out his heart she pleasured him the way she new that he liked the best. As he lay sated and aroused by the sweetest of pain she ripped his heart out asking him why he had treated her so, again and again.

She left his castle with such sorrow for she, her husband had truly loved. They would find his body on the morrow and her cage would be found empty and a killer she would be dubbed. They would never catch her , she would never a human man trust again, no she knew better now she would stay with her flock, they would never change their game.

A tiny part of her heart was still held by the man she had married, who had treated her so unkind, all his promises he’d tarried. To tether and cage her and not let her out of his sight, when she had made it clear she loved him and would always return to him after her midnight flights.

So late at night when the moon was low in the sky she would  visit his grave, her flock of crows around her, she would often cry. The flock were there to protect her they were known as her flight. They made sure that her freedom was held on to , tight.

Never again to trust a human, never to fall for their lies again she was happy to stay with her flock, they loved her and would never cause her pain.

Christmas Cheer

Christmas shopping

Christmas shopping

See the reflection in the Christmas ball does it tell the truth does it open up and show us all? The presents around the tree are they really exactly what you see?

Is everyone as happy as they appear, are we all relaxed and full of good cheer. Did the food all get to the table without a hitch did everyone get on all day with out thinking someone is a bitch.

Are grannie’s jumpers really brill? Did your sister’s mince pies make you ill. Do you really need another drink , hey , no don’t just chuck those glasses in the sink!

If you are not happy, don’t tell me today  because Christmas is supposed to be special and so all has to swept up tidy and hidden away.

The drunk can still beat his wife and uncle nobby  can rob a young child of their peaceful life. Nothing changes nothing ends, peace and quiet does not descend. The poor are still poor and hungry the irritable are still  brutally  angry sadly all the bad things do not go away just because it’s Christmas Day.

Blood on their Hands

No need to ask from where they come , those bloody men with their shells and guns. No need to ask from where they come, dropping their shells and firing their guns.

Governments are suppose to protect their people not kill them. You have blood on your hands, you have blood on your hands you bloody men with your bloody shells. 90 bodies left lying there including 32 children now is that fair.

In the came the men with hats of blue, their hands are tied what can they do. Yes they have plenty to say  but will they stop this fighting for which the children pay.

Empty playgrounds empty schools is often the legacy of the tyrant’s rule. Why why do the people die while the governments cheat and lie.

No need to ask from where they come , those bloody men with their shells and guns. No need to ask from where they come, dropping their shells and firing their guns.

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All right of the video belong to the BBC.

Journal For Poetry Challenge#20/05/2012

Without Death, Bloodshed and Suffering

Without death, bloodshed and suffering wars are never won
And only hatred and grief survives when the fighting is done
And war heroes honoured in every war street parade
By war men the memories of war not allowed for to fade
The politicians the praises of the war dead do sing
Their politicizing of war for sake of power not an honourable thing
For God, Flag and Country and National Pride
Far too many good young people in wars have died
one war leads to another war as the wise one did say
And millions for patriotism in wars with their lives do pay
For the sake of war the war men create us against they
And for the love of a flag the young and brave die in wars today
And on Remembrance Day the war men parade up and down
In a show of patriotism through the streets of the town.

Francis Duggan
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Francis Duggan

(1946 – Present) I have been penning stuff since 1973 have written up to nine thousand individual pieces which can be seen on various online poetry sites, I was born and raised in Millstreet Co Cork Ireland and I have been living in Victoria Australia for the past twenty three years………. Francis Duggan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This modern poem is timeless it could refer to any war! It says all the things I have said in the months since January. The tears I have shed whilst researching this challenge are witness to the fact that no one wins in war. No one , no person, no country, no religion, no sect nothing and nobody wins,only the politicians and the arms makers ………….. They win hands down every time .

Politicians plot scheme and win, our young people in the armed forces are maimed and killed, sacrificed on the altar of their greed ( the politicians greed that is). Then the truth is sanitized and  the politicians brush things over! We never learn, it has been this way since the beginning of  mankind and I see no changes yet . willow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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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