Black crows gather
On the field
Of failure
Iron rusts
On the field
Of failure
Blood stains the grass
On the field
Of failure
Orphans are made
On the field
Of failure
Nothing changes
On the field
Of failure
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Ah Putin,
ya shoulda done some more computing,
before ya sent your troops a shooting.
Perhaps then they wouldn’t be a looting,
dumping equipment and substituting,
their tanks for feet and food troubleshooting.
I guess it’s easy to be all highfalutin,
when you’ve the power to be executing.
Twisting narratives and truth diluting,
using your nation for prostituting,
with personal gains from war prosecuting.
All the while Ukraine’s recruiting,
in every way they are refuting;
your whims and wishes and parachuting,
your soldiers are dead or are a routing,
your economy’s destroyed there’s no refuting.
Ah Putin,
I wish your rule to be a muting.
That means your death, or at least a booting,
from tzar to the grave, a desirable transmuting,
the only way to get to a future worth rooting.
This poem is inspired by the book, ‘How To Write Evocative Poetry’.
You can read some chapters from the book, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
The battle lines are drawn
I turn inwards
They snarl
Bearing teeth
All too big for their mouths
They curse
They cajole
They threaten
They remind me of their brethren
The victors of the last war
The darkness fuels them
My fear fuels them
They surround me
Attacking from behind
Infiltrating my defences
I fall
My mind closes in
All seems lost
But then I remember
I have been here before
I know their tactics
I know their weaknesses
I know their game
Just deception
Just intimidation
I turn and face them
Staring them down
My gaze is illuminating
Golden rays of light
Shatter their advance
I begin the hunt
Snarls turns into shrieks
Shrieks turns into bargaining
Bargaining turns into pleading
Pleading turns into silence
I seek out their dens
I destroy their spawning grounds
I cleanse myself
Total victory
Unconditional surrender
This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
