Post by Aaron Graf on Aug 27, 2004 1:45:46 GMT -5
This is a part of this site. I bring out 5-20 poems weekly and email
them to my members for their viewing pleasure along with links to
comment on the poems in the letter. All the poems are from members of
this forum, no outside poetry, no guest poems. The Poems of Conscience
this week are below:
Author: Aaron Graf
Username: Aaron Graf
Title of Work: The Peace of Mankind's Grave
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=downwithbush&action=display&thread=1093112709
Though my words will never sear,
Through the sturdy metals of hate and fear,
The peace of bombs and planes claimed to save,
Will soon be the peace of mankinds grave.
Im awake in a land stuck in a dream it seems,
That will die for its false patriotic themes,
While love and equality reach their demise,
The terror alert level begins to rise.
They bring up the towers and Saddam Hussein,
While people die for a liars game.
Though my words will never sear,
Through the sturdy metals of hate and fear,
The peace of bombs and planes claimed to save,
Will soon be the peace of mankinds grave.
The American dream was once the flare,
That shined light on the darkness of misery and despair,
The flame was carried on for personal gain,
So one man could make bombs fall like rain.
America was once the sweet drink of the free,
Now laced with greed and lies and secrecy.
Though my words will never sear,
Through the sturdy metals of hate and fear,
The peace of bombs and planes claimed to save,
Will soon be the peace of mankinds grave.
Death knows no face not to slaughter,
The value of human beings has reduced to cannon fodder.
Holding her dead loved one she sheds a tear,
Americas dignity is now a rotting, empty pier.
We never say we were the ones at fault,
As love and peace reach an abrupt halt.
We forget Saladins saying as death hits higher numbers,
Abstain from the shedding of blood for blood that is spilt never
slumbers.
I see what others refuse to see as people die,
I see the greed and lies and tyranny embedded in our leaders eyes.
The eyes that allowed innocent blood to be spilled,
As more human beings are tortured, raped, and killed.
Come on a plane and leave in a bag,
With your coffin draped neatly with the flag.
As we kill more men and women overseas,
All those deaths create new enemies.
It will make more terrorists for us to find,
It shall bring the death of humankind.
I know you shall revile me and hate me today,
There is only one thing to you I must say:
Though my words will never sear,
Through the sturdy metals of hate and fear,
The peace of bombs and planes claimed to save,
Will soon be the peace of mankinds grave.
~Aaron Graf
Poem #2: I Am A Woman
Author: Sarah Wilson
Username: Broken Soul
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=downwiththewhitemale&action=display&thread=1093231421
I am Woman
a thousand limbs
taking in the life around me
feeding my soul, complexifying
spinning out of my own being
that which will surpass me.
Though they may bind my feet
I shall always walk
and if they sever my legs
I will fly,
the power of my Mysteries
deathless as the Phoenix.
I am Woman
birthed and birther
wrapped together as one
prolific process.
My arms reach out
pulling in life,
offering back my love.
~Sarah Wilson
Poem # 3: Brother Against Brother
Author: Anonymous for now
Username: youreTOfake
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1093114127
So this is where we end up
Fighting to take our dreams back
Crying because we can't take the nightmares
Screaming because it hurts so bad
Still we try, Constantly with false hopes
Maybe, Just Maybe, we'll reach the top
Guess we all tried to hard
We over did it and now we're stuck
Stuck in a thought that gives a different meaning to life
Stuck with a sword and hate
Every life we see, we take
Until we come to face ourselves..
A new dillema
Shall we kill ourselves?
There's no sense in living to die
We hold up the swords and ready for attack
Just when we bare our necks and turn our backs
We turn to each other
Drawing our swords up towards each other
Sending shock through our bodies
So this is where we end up..
Brother against brother...
IN OUR DREAMS
Poem #4: No Stranger
Author: Melissa K. Wellborne
Username: xserenityx
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=everysixminutes&action=display&thread=1093247197&start=0
Laughter, chatting,
The room seems so cheery
Oh what a party
How can anything seem dreary?
I'm here with my buds
The best anyone can have
Without them here
Things wouldn't be so fab.
"Hey, want a soda?"
Says my closest friend with a smile.
"Oh sure, why not."
I reply, not having any for a while.
The laughter, the chatting;
It suddenly starts to fade.
I can't even hear up close
The things that are said.
Spinning, my heart sinks.
What is going on?
I knew that soda was funny.
My evening's now gone wrong.
Sitting down, I close my eyes,
Hoping this awkwardness will stop.
I feel arms grasp around me,
Then suddenly I'm dropped.
Unable to move, I look around,
Trying to see who is here.
Finding your face, I'm silent with shock
As now I'm drained of my fear.
My friend, it's you!
That soda you gave me was bad.
I try to tell you this
But numbness takes over my head.
Suddenly confused, I'm lifted up.
My legs and arms, I can't move them!
My friend, what are you doing?
The fear expanding upon me again.
My eyes close, I am totally immobile.
I feel myself move this way and that.
But moving on my own, I am not.
Molded like your clay, or a doll at that.
A breeze brushes against me
As my shirt is quickly lifted.
Roughly, hands snatch at my undergarments
The mood in the room now shifted.
Silently I scream, beg, and plea.
These things, my dear friend,
That you are now doing to me...
Oh please let it end!
Frozen in horror, my thoughts collide.
Finally, I gave up my inner pleas.
I scold myself surely
This could have been avoided with ease!
Fingers press, reach around all over me.
Feeling me up, down, everywhere.
Naked, cold and now ashamed
I know I never should have come here.
Suddenly, a sharp pain occurs
I want to scream out and cry.
The heat of your body now inside me
Just makes me want to die.
Faster, you press on and on
Grunting with your own lustful desire.
You continue even harder and deeper,
My innards seem as if they're on fire!
You shudder, oh my old dear friend.
You grunt and you moan.
After what seems like an eternity
I get the feeling you're now done.
Left to lay there the rest of the night
You up and just leave me.
Slowly my mind drifts and I sleep
Haunted by such immorality.
Oh, my dear friend, you see
How I wish this was something I won't remember.
This is what can happen while accepting
Drinks and things from not even a stranger.
By Melissa K. Wellborn
Poem # 5: 21 Gun Salute
Author: Aaron Graf
Username: Aaron Graf
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=downwithbush&action=display&thread=1093070918
21 Gun Salute
The car stopped by on a sunny afternoon,
A major pulled out to say Miss, your son died 5 days too soon.
The mother fell down and racked tears of grief,
Him dying so short of his leave was beyond their belief.
The funeral was arranged the very next week,
At a quiet graveyard right by a creek.
The preacher spoke his speech and wished him best,
His wife was crying, screaming, and holding his picture to her chest.
His children were asking Will daddy come back?
His brother said It should have been me who died in Iraq.
He figured hed pay the bills and perform a great deed,
But he died in the sands while fighting for a few mens greed.
The freedom he thought he fought for was being erased,
By this Patriot Act and its presidential disgrace.
The flag decorating his coffin as the band plays and troops raise their
guns,
Look at his grave, hes an Army of One.
The trumpets blaze loudly next to the thumping of boots,
Directly to the ground for the 21 gun salute.
With every shot fired the crowd gets more depressed,
As tears of grief now drench his wifes black dress.
His father is about to fall down from burying his kid,
He gives him a salute for all that he did.
His friend from the field showed up as well,
With his hand on his coffin wishing he never fell.
But the man who never showed was the one who sent him to die,
Never set foot at a single funeral of an American GI.
Never took responsibility for causing his family to go to tears,
Instead he spoke all those lies and thrived off the peoples fear.
The taps is playing as he is lowered into the ground,
Everybody is gripped in sadness but not making a sound.
His children without a father, his wife without a spouse,
His father and mother miss his presence that was once in their house.
Ten shots echoing into the air,
The final reminder of death and despair.
~ Aaron Graf
Thank you for reading the poetry, hope to see your comments on the poems
of conscience.
Regards,
The Team
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi
them to my members for their viewing pleasure along with links to
comment on the poems in the letter. All the poems are from members of
this forum, no outside poetry, no guest poems. The Poems of Conscience
this week are below:
Author: Aaron Graf
Username: Aaron Graf
Title of Work: The Peace of Mankind's Grave
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=downwithbush&action=display&thread=1093112709
Though my words will never sear,
Through the sturdy metals of hate and fear,
The peace of bombs and planes claimed to save,
Will soon be the peace of mankinds grave.
Im awake in a land stuck in a dream it seems,
That will die for its false patriotic themes,
While love and equality reach their demise,
The terror alert level begins to rise.
They bring up the towers and Saddam Hussein,
While people die for a liars game.
Though my words will never sear,
Through the sturdy metals of hate and fear,
The peace of bombs and planes claimed to save,
Will soon be the peace of mankinds grave.
The American dream was once the flare,
That shined light on the darkness of misery and despair,
The flame was carried on for personal gain,
So one man could make bombs fall like rain.
America was once the sweet drink of the free,
Now laced with greed and lies and secrecy.
Though my words will never sear,
Through the sturdy metals of hate and fear,
The peace of bombs and planes claimed to save,
Will soon be the peace of mankinds grave.
Death knows no face not to slaughter,
The value of human beings has reduced to cannon fodder.
Holding her dead loved one she sheds a tear,
Americas dignity is now a rotting, empty pier.
We never say we were the ones at fault,
As love and peace reach an abrupt halt.
We forget Saladins saying as death hits higher numbers,
Abstain from the shedding of blood for blood that is spilt never
slumbers.
I see what others refuse to see as people die,
I see the greed and lies and tyranny embedded in our leaders eyes.
The eyes that allowed innocent blood to be spilled,
As more human beings are tortured, raped, and killed.
Come on a plane and leave in a bag,
With your coffin draped neatly with the flag.
As we kill more men and women overseas,
All those deaths create new enemies.
It will make more terrorists for us to find,
It shall bring the death of humankind.
I know you shall revile me and hate me today,
There is only one thing to you I must say:
Though my words will never sear,
Through the sturdy metals of hate and fear,
The peace of bombs and planes claimed to save,
Will soon be the peace of mankinds grave.
~Aaron Graf
Poem #2: I Am A Woman
Author: Sarah Wilson
Username: Broken Soul
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=downwiththewhitemale&action=display&thread=1093231421
I am Woman
a thousand limbs
taking in the life around me
feeding my soul, complexifying
spinning out of my own being
that which will surpass me.
Though they may bind my feet
I shall always walk
and if they sever my legs
I will fly,
the power of my Mysteries
deathless as the Phoenix.
I am Woman
birthed and birther
wrapped together as one
prolific process.
My arms reach out
pulling in life,
offering back my love.
~Sarah Wilson
Poem # 3: Brother Against Brother
Author: Anonymous for now
Username: youreTOfake
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=Other&action=display&thread=1093114127
So this is where we end up
Fighting to take our dreams back
Crying because we can't take the nightmares
Screaming because it hurts so bad
Still we try, Constantly with false hopes
Maybe, Just Maybe, we'll reach the top
Guess we all tried to hard
We over did it and now we're stuck
Stuck in a thought that gives a different meaning to life
Stuck with a sword and hate
Every life we see, we take
Until we come to face ourselves..
A new dillema
Shall we kill ourselves?
There's no sense in living to die
We hold up the swords and ready for attack
Just when we bare our necks and turn our backs
We turn to each other
Drawing our swords up towards each other
Sending shock through our bodies
So this is where we end up..
Brother against brother...
IN OUR DREAMS
Poem #4: No Stranger
Author: Melissa K. Wellborne
Username: xserenityx
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=everysixminutes&action=display&thread=1093247197&start=0
Laughter, chatting,
The room seems so cheery
Oh what a party
How can anything seem dreary?
I'm here with my buds
The best anyone can have
Without them here
Things wouldn't be so fab.
"Hey, want a soda?"
Says my closest friend with a smile.
"Oh sure, why not."
I reply, not having any for a while.
The laughter, the chatting;
It suddenly starts to fade.
I can't even hear up close
The things that are said.
Spinning, my heart sinks.
What is going on?
I knew that soda was funny.
My evening's now gone wrong.
Sitting down, I close my eyes,
Hoping this awkwardness will stop.
I feel arms grasp around me,
Then suddenly I'm dropped.
Unable to move, I look around,
Trying to see who is here.
Finding your face, I'm silent with shock
As now I'm drained of my fear.
My friend, it's you!
That soda you gave me was bad.
I try to tell you this
But numbness takes over my head.
Suddenly confused, I'm lifted up.
My legs and arms, I can't move them!
My friend, what are you doing?
The fear expanding upon me again.
My eyes close, I am totally immobile.
I feel myself move this way and that.
But moving on my own, I am not.
Molded like your clay, or a doll at that.
A breeze brushes against me
As my shirt is quickly lifted.
Roughly, hands snatch at my undergarments
The mood in the room now shifted.
Silently I scream, beg, and plea.
These things, my dear friend,
That you are now doing to me...
Oh please let it end!
Frozen in horror, my thoughts collide.
Finally, I gave up my inner pleas.
I scold myself surely
This could have been avoided with ease!
Fingers press, reach around all over me.
Feeling me up, down, everywhere.
Naked, cold and now ashamed
I know I never should have come here.
Suddenly, a sharp pain occurs
I want to scream out and cry.
The heat of your body now inside me
Just makes me want to die.
Faster, you press on and on
Grunting with your own lustful desire.
You continue even harder and deeper,
My innards seem as if they're on fire!
You shudder, oh my old dear friend.
You grunt and you moan.
After what seems like an eternity
I get the feeling you're now done.
Left to lay there the rest of the night
You up and just leave me.
Slowly my mind drifts and I sleep
Haunted by such immorality.
Oh, my dear friend, you see
How I wish this was something I won't remember.
This is what can happen while accepting
Drinks and things from not even a stranger.
By Melissa K. Wellborn
Poem # 5: 21 Gun Salute
Author: Aaron Graf
Username: Aaron Graf
Link:
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi?board=downwithbush&action=display&thread=1093070918
21 Gun Salute
The car stopped by on a sunny afternoon,
A major pulled out to say Miss, your son died 5 days too soon.
The mother fell down and racked tears of grief,
Him dying so short of his leave was beyond their belief.
The funeral was arranged the very next week,
At a quiet graveyard right by a creek.
The preacher spoke his speech and wished him best,
His wife was crying, screaming, and holding his picture to her chest.
His children were asking Will daddy come back?
His brother said It should have been me who died in Iraq.
He figured hed pay the bills and perform a great deed,
But he died in the sands while fighting for a few mens greed.
The freedom he thought he fought for was being erased,
By this Patriot Act and its presidential disgrace.
The flag decorating his coffin as the band plays and troops raise their
guns,
Look at his grave, hes an Army of One.
The trumpets blaze loudly next to the thumping of boots,
Directly to the ground for the 21 gun salute.
With every shot fired the crowd gets more depressed,
As tears of grief now drench his wifes black dress.
His father is about to fall down from burying his kid,
He gives him a salute for all that he did.
His friend from the field showed up as well,
With his hand on his coffin wishing he never fell.
But the man who never showed was the one who sent him to die,
Never set foot at a single funeral of an American GI.
Never took responsibility for causing his family to go to tears,
Instead he spoke all those lies and thrived off the peoples fear.
The taps is playing as he is lowered into the ground,
Everybody is gripped in sadness but not making a sound.
His children without a father, his wife without a spouse,
His father and mother miss his presence that was once in their house.
Ten shots echoing into the air,
The final reminder of death and despair.
~ Aaron Graf
Thank you for reading the poetry, hope to see your comments on the poems
of conscience.
Regards,
The Team
liberalpoetry.proboards29.com/index.cgi