The futile finality of Mr and Mrs Martyr

entry picture

adapted from a very old school playground rhyme sung to in various games the kids played to which the lines were..


One two three hilairah

I saw my Aunty Claira

sitting on her bumtilarah

eating choclate soldiers.


Ref-Location Iraq or Syria



Here they come the bomb vest wearers

and the indoctrinated reasons they are there is

to pull their cords and gain a place in Allah's lair

by killing as many as possible allied soldiers.


There they go the sick minded beings

hoping paradise is what they'll be sightseeing 

their body parts mixed with those who had no chance of fleeing

that are mostly their own innocent infantile and elderly people. 


◄ Clouds

Haiku: Life ►


Profile image

Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Mon 27th May 2019 17:47

in total agreement with all of you guys, it's a curse we don't think will ever be lifted from our existences however long that is likely to last?

tvm all!

P&S xx

Profile image

Jemima Jones

Mon 27th May 2019 15:13

A very sad although moving poem Patricia, and Stefan. In both of those countries you mention, the suffering as we all know is still going on as bad as it was in, the beginning of these tragedies, and to think this is supposed to be the modern age. I don't think any of the governments involved have any real bona fide intentions of bringing them it to a close or willing to learn any lessons from them for the future. Thank you. Jemima.

Profile image

Rose Casserley

Sat 25th May 2019 23:00

not familiar with the playground rhyme guys but no doubt my Mum or Dad might. Really top albeit very sad poem.

Rose ?

Profile image


Sat 25th May 2019 17:50

Yea -The mind of man, the mind of man?
The heart of man, the heart of man?

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message