Poetry Blogs (America)
Guns, knives and hand grenades,
Bombs and shells we'll blow them away,
Underground bunkers are no match for us,
United States of America "In God we trust",
Blood, guts and body parts,
Shoot to kill and aim for their hearts,
Chemical warfare is also a treat,
We'll gas them out and leave 'em in defeat,
Put your hands up and surrender now,
We'll shoot you in the face unless you put your gun ...
Tuesday 15th January 2019 8:50 am
Father rests fingers within his hair
Mother overcome with too much to bear
I sit in this thick puddle
My flesh bare
You are but a shadowed figure
Enjoying what's rare
We beg and mourn
For medical care
Thursday 2nd August 2018 7:01 am
There Are No Angels Here
Scraping around the vipers nest,
flaming swords and thrusting spear,
black spiders scuttle to the feast
but there are no angels here.
The dragon crawls into their veins,
hallucinogenic ecstasy or fear.
The demon bares his fangs to bite
and still there are no angels here.
The first-born rounded up and caged,
harvesting the mother...
Thursday 21st June 2018 4:01 pm
What can I say I'm a little fucking jaded.
Must be stemming from the lies that you stated.
Yesterday's punks should've been today's politicians.
At least then to my generation they would listen.
You're killing our planet and bankrupting your people.
You leave us dying in a ditch and swear that we're equal.
Call me a millenial and I'll wear that shit with pride.
Please don't confuse me with ...
Tuesday 8th May 2018 2:27 pm
Before you read the poem... a few more to open in New Tabs!!!
Now... enjoy the poem!
Smashing the Nazi Eagle statue in Mauthausen Concentration Camp in Austria
Freedoms cries brought the statues down
The Reich lay in ruins as a new regime
Promised freedom of a versio...
Thursday 17th August 2017 11:57 pm
With so much hurt and hatred prevalent in society,
It seems like crimes such as murder, rape, and kidnapping might be
Everyday cliches surrounding us entirely.
I feel as if no other news is ever happening,
Everywhere I look, murder has become fashion internationally.
Especially in America, 'Land of the free, Home of the brave.'
Technically, just tellin ya, it's the land of the creeps, home o...
Saturday 21st January 2017 2:50 pm
The Parchment, The Bullet And The Word
It was old,
old and failing,
and it was loaded
and when I pointed it at him
he shrank back
“Do what I want
you to do,
because if you don’t
I will use this.
I’m not afraid
To use this”.
He sank to his knees
prayed to all his little Gods
that I was bl...
Monday 11th April 2016 4:33 pm
Anarchy runs through my bones, A sanctuary, a mind set in stone, No worth in a life without purpose, Enough people around me trying to surplus, Without reason or must. Society isn't run from home, We're fed a diet of lies and bad omens, A curfew on our personal time, Cursing those who brave past the line, Fucking with your mind. Sobriety is harshly overrated, When the priority is to...
Saturday 2nd May 2015 6:16 am
7 beers deep, sweating that good july sweat on a friends porch.
Redwood planks kissing the leather souls of my second hand kicks.
4 hours of fire works, illegall yet accepted pyro launched into the space between Mt washington and echo park.
We cooked these bombs up to show thanks and respect for those who gave their lives in order to make a home, a new country.
Friday 6th March 2015 10:34 am
Yesterday, a day which now, will live amongst us for all time,
For history has changed its path
And we must fall in line.
For we at peace, with guarded arms, we chose to watch this from afar,
But we, deliberately attacked,
Must no more stand apart.
An Emperor, through wicked lies, convinced us of continued peace,
But sickening deceit was this,
As they slipped underneath.
For yesterday our countrymen were ...
Monday 9th December 2013 10:36 am
Around the shadowed corner, wicked lies,
Through telescopic lens and focussed eyes.
The autumn trees encapsulate the path
And crunch beneath the wheels they idolise.
The building crowds descend before the knoll
To catch a glimpse of this passing idol.
He, showered from all sides with the applause
And peppered from above by seasons fall.
Idyllic is this scene to which he greets,
As smiling f...
Friday 22nd November 2013 9:10 am
Twin sisters, both alike in majesty,
In New Manhattan, where we set this scene,
From arid lands flocks an old enemy,
To scorch the earth of this, a western dream.
From fateful skies the fatal flights descend,
But none the wiser to their pending fate,
The man and child, to happy affairs tend,
Their future sealed beneath a veil of hate.
Through vacant city clouds, their path annulled,
Friday 13th September 2013 12:25 pm
Yankee terror bombers fly overhead to bomb our cities and our military targets.
Stop them! Quick, into our Messerschmitt 109G’s.
Take off; rise up to do battle with the infidels armed with their fifty calibre super heavy machine guns. ...
Thursday 23rd May 2013 11:09 pm
A silence fell upon the city,
contorted shadows twisting moonlight.
Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced
bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers
in an unforgiving wind.
The wretched odour of deprivation
a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.
Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap
and by night the vampires feast on thei...
Tuesday 9th April 2013 4:44 pm
Kennedy shouted “We do things not because they are easy but because they are hard”
Then they shot him
Martin Luther King shouted “I have a Dream”
Then they shot him
Bob Dylan shouted poems of Love and War
He politicised a whole generation
Timothy Leary shouted “Tune in Turn on and Drop out”
Billy Graham shouted “Come on Down”
Wednesday 6th March 2013 9:08 pm
I wrote this piece after the events at Newtown and crazy reaction from those deluded enough to think that more guns equals safer country. They have 300 million guns and one of the highest murder rates in the world. As a poet, as an American who is also british, as a father, I wrote this response.
HOW MANY MORE?
Where can I start, but the young ones, their hearts
Sunday 30th December 2012 4:50 pm
My mum once told me that my dad was a fighter pilot
Flying over Vietnam and Laos
Dropping bombs and killing.
He got five Migs
Before the missiles got him.
Yeah, my dad flew a Thunderchief.
He flew two hundred missions
Over that hell of a country
Until the missiles blew him away.
I never saw my dad
But he died a he...
Tuesday 19th June 2012 3:22 pm
Summer is starting to set in. Goals are being formed. We have made many in the past and failed to accomplish them. Achievements don't go unnoticed. Though, as we grow older, wiser, more dedicated to ourselves and others' involvement in our craft, we see a need for commitment. If we are setting goals for ourselves with a half assed ambition to finish them, then that is all we are left with. Diss...
Tuesday 22nd May 2012 5:46 pm
Why now do I look at the Tupolev 160 White Swan and Rockwell B-1B bombers in a new light? Taken aback at how pretty both jet bombers are. Their World War3 mission is a dark job, end of days stuff. Not to be taken lightly, unless you're Dr Strangelove.
Less people die when the American B-1 goes to war. Her nuclear mission is taken over by the B-52 and...
Saturday 24th March 2012 5:21 pm
We lost Hugh. Flying such a beautiful little airplane in a blue desert sky, what a nice handling jet. Do what you want with her but no high speed turns too tight, might hit invisible wall in the sky. Dogfight every American jet fighter built none can beat the Mig17 Fresco. Turn on a dime, Russia did this almost right. Ultimate aggressor trainer, what better than to...
Tuesday 6th March 2012 5:44 pm
How many pilots died and old aircraft lost when they flew over jagged snowy peaks in the remotest corners of the world? Doing a dangerous job knowing the risks and trusting in fate and luck to bring the through. Some never made it, there planes impacting vertical mountain sides in sickening crashes. Bodies lost forever, frozen in the time of death. Icily cold and otherworldly ...
Thursday 23rd February 2012 1:48 am
They say home is where the heart is
and my heart is where the art lives.
So where is my home?
Art lives within us all
and begins an internal/external exchange...
like humanity to trees.
We stop, relax, breathe
So where is my home?
First Contact was my spiritual home
gave meat and marrow to
Tuesday 8th November 2011 11:33 pm
FUCK UP FAIRY
What an amazing site I behold –
Confederate and Damnyankee armies locked in battle,
Pittsburgh burns and war visits everyone.
Ruined houses, burning tanks, screaming airplanes, bursting bombs.
A hand waves in death as a tank moves forward,
bloodily glued to the tracks. Cannons roar
and men in butternut defend each and every house in morbid violenc...
Friday 16th September 2011 3:44 pm