i must say i want no youths in coffins for satisfying rich old men


Your War

You have no texture.
There are no enchantments pointing to
These gnarled bodies.

You chat to me of measures.
I'm surprised to hear you
Call whilst standing on
This low ground.

For longer monger?

Clear your vision.
Let us all finger depths
And causes.







Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 933 times
Written on 2013-09-10 at 02:23

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Nicely put, Linda. What surprises me is the failure of nerve of Cameron and Obama. They sought approval because they weren't sure they should do what they wanted to do. Blair and Bush simply would have started shooting. Four perfectly awful people.
2013-09-14


Sid Gardner
The mother that weeps for her martyred son,
A baby crying beside a butchered mother.
Tears running in rivers already filled with blood.
Minds traumatised by sights they witnessed.
Where is love?, Where is tenderness?
Where is hope?
2013-09-13


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
I must admit that I struggled with your poem until I read the note you wrote preceeding it. Having reread it a few more times I see the vision you have of old men stripped of their affectations and pompousness due to the deaths of those they convince to fight for them in battles. Necessary because the old men failed to resolve conflicts themselves.
2013-09-11



Very interesting and arresting poem.
2013-09-10