|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
War
Contributed by
01_zanzebar
on
Sunday, 13th June 2004 @ 09:21:44 AM in AEST
Topic:
political
|
Amongst the highly placed
It is considered low to talk about food
The fact of the matter is they have already eaten
The lowly must leave this earth without ever tasted any good meat
For wandering where they come from and where they are going
Define evenings find them too exhausting
They have not yet seen the mountains and the great sea
When their time is already up
If the lowly don’t think of what’s low
They will never rise
The bread for the hungry has all been eaten
Meat has become unknown and useless
Pouring out of the peoples sweat, the Loralbroaves have been locked down
From the chimneys of the arms factories rises smoke
The ‘house painter’ speaks of wonderful times to come
The forests still grow
The field still bare
The city still stands
The people still breathe
On the calendar, the day is not yet shown
Every month, Every day, lays open still
But on one of those days
Is going to be marked with a cross
The workers cry out for bread
The merchants cry out for markets
The unemployed were hungry
The employed are hungry now
The hands that laid folded are once again busy
They are making shells
Those who take the meat from the table teach contentment
Those who are low, this contribution will demand sacrifice
Those who have already eat their fill
Speak to the hungry of the wonderful times to come
Those who lead the country into the abyss call their ruling ‘too difficult to man’
When the leaders speak of peace
The common folk know, war is coming
When the leaders curse that war
The mobilisation order has already been written out
Those at the top say, the peace and war are of different substance
But their peace, and their war are like wind and storm
War grows from their peace like a son from his mother
He bares her frightful features
Because their war kills whatever their peace has left over
On the wall is said, ‘They want war’
Those who have wrote it, have already fallen
Those at the top say ‘this way to glory’
Those at the bottom say ‘this way to the grave’
The war that is coming was like the other wars before it
When the last one came to an end, there was conquers and conquered
Among the conquered, the common peopled starve to death
Among the conquerors, the common people will also starve to death
Those at the top say comrade-ship reigns in the army
The actual truth of this is seen in the cookhouse
In their hearts should be the same self-courage
But on their plates are two different kinds of rations
When it comes to marching
Many do not know that their enemy is marching at their head
The voice that gives them the orders
Is that of the enemies’ voice
And the man who speaks of the enemy
Is actually the enemy himself
It is like the young couples lie in their beds
The women will bare the soldiers orphans
General, your tank is a powerful vehicle, Its smashes down forests and crushes 100 men, But it has one defect, It needs a driver.
General, your bomber is powerful, It flies faster than a storm and carries more than an elephant, But it has one defect, It needs a mechanic.
General, Man is very useful, he can fly and he can kill, But he will always have one defect, He can Think
Copyright ©
01_zanzebar
... [
2004-06-13 09:21:44] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: War
(User Rating: 1 ) by 01_zanzebar on
Tuesday, 15th June 2004 @ 04:46:33 PM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
its hard to understand but im sad cos no-one has commented on it, It was intentionall to be called Peoples War, but i dont know why it hadn't changed, and i didnt want to have it opsted twice, This is my favorite poem and took the culmitive work of 3 weeks to compile.
Enjoy the rest of my stuff |
|
|
|