Category: War

The seeds of war…

On By jovisgoesIn Armageddon, End of Days, Homo-sapien, Poetry, political, Regret, Time, War, wisdomLeave a comment

Beneath the veil of nations’ fears
Underneath their eyelids’ tears
Are secrets kept of vile misdeeds
Of many wars these are the seeds.

Adventurers sailed around the world
Their nation’s flags they then unfurled
Then raped the land of all they saw
And stole the wealth found in the core.

Independence now those countries claim
To stand alone, be proud their aim
But our ancestors fiscal curse
We robbed, pillaged and bared their purse.

So now they strike out on their own
The country’s wealth pared to the bone
They end up fighting among themselves
Supplied with weapons from dealers shelves.

This circle will go around and around
Till every human is in the ground
And you my friend when you read this tome
Will wish that you had not left home.

 

©Joe Wilson – The seeds of war…2014

In mortal pain…

On By jovisgoesIn Anger, Armageddon, Belief, Betrayal, carelessness, Fate, Life, Poetry, Point of View, political, Regret, The World, WarLeave a comment

This land has been robbed of all that it had
Nothing is left, even for the slick and the rich
Crumbling edifices to our capitalist greed
Our world no capacity now left for its need.

There were those amongst us who fought agin this
Imprisoned in jails within our own tortured selves
Not enough of us tried to stop the horrors we saw
Now nothing is left, our charade is no more.

Your fathers all fought in such bloody campaigns
There fathers too, and there fathers before
New weapons of destructive powers previously unheard
That slaughtered the innocent in ways cruelly absurd.

Buildings left standing with all inside dead
People didn’t matter, but the real estate did
And thus the corruption swept over the Earth
We were judged by our value but not by our worth.

It angers me now as I feel guilty shame
For I didn’t do enough and that makes me as them
And for you with the mess whatever is left
There’s a world that was rich and is now so bereft.

One thing is certain, save the wealth of the land
The one crucial thing that we never did foresee
Don’t go down the pathway of war-like inventions
Create things for peace and for better intentions.

Think in these ways and you may stand a chance
It’s a message I couldn’t ever iterate to much
War and corruption lie together in bed
Growing good crops gets communities fed.

©Joe Wilson – In mortal pain…2014

The world cries out…

On By jovisgoesIn Poetry, Poverty, Terror, The World, War, wisdomLeave a comment

Our world cries out in sorrow again
People dying on lonely streets
And blood is shed and spirits crushed
It seems that history repeats.

Would that we could see the truth
Of all that’s good within our sight
That we would see our own great wealth
And help to ease another’s plight.

If we could see and do all that
And in ourselves we understood
Would we not find ourselves at peace
And know at least we’d done some good.

 

©Joe Wilson – The world cries…2014

A Collection of poems recognising the Centenary of the outbreak of war in 1914

On By jovisgoesIn Poetry, War2 Comments

The long sad look…

On By jovisgoesIn Armageddon, Homo-sapien, Mammal, WarLeave a comment

He cast a long sad look along the horizon
And gazed down on the planet’s Armageddon
For man was battling on to it’s destruction
Destroying all that fell in their path.

Placing man on the Earth had been troublesome
But the intellect of man had given Him hope
They could work out the problems that beset them
Yet all the killing and shooting and bombing had to stop.

He’d placed races of differing hue and different creed
Putting them in all manner of places far and wide
But man’s warlike nature seemed reason enough
For them to find their excuses for genocide.

What was it with the homo-sapien class of mammal
That had them at each other’s oft exposed throats
It was not the result of something that He had created
But a flaw that was in the essence of man.

©Joe Wilson – The long sad look…2014

A son’s tale…

On By jovisgoesIn Betrayal, Poetry, WarLeave a comment
Unknown origin
Unknown origin

Hal drew his sword from it’s long sheath
and faced his nemesis on this dark heath
and fought for life and fought till death
his enemy taking his last foul breath.

Long times this family feud had raged
and in its wake young men had aged
for now the devil would breathe no more
till others rose to settle the score.

Returned he then to his peaceful life
sharing in joy with his new young wife
and she did bear him fine young sons
he hoped his violent past was gone.

But the devil will often find ways back
and thus with time came a new attack
so Hal’s son drew his father’s sword
this ancient duel his family reward.

The feud had lasted for ere so long
kinsfolk recalled it oft in song
of troubles over betrayals done
and deathly duels betwixt each first son.

And then one day Hal’s nemesis fell
and hurt them-self as he could tell
he lowered his sword and approached his foe
removing helmet let long hair flow.

This time it seemed there was no heir
but duty fell to the eldest there
and so the woman had taken up sword
for she too felt her kin’s reward.

But Hal had fallen deep in love
so swore that he’d not raise a glove
and she too felt her heart was won
the betrayal forgotten they were as one.

©Joe Wilson – A son’s tale…
This was just a story set in medieval England
where unimaginatively all first sons are called Hal.
I’ve tried to write it in that kind of style.

The scorn…

On By jovisgoesIn Betrayal, Family, Life, Loss, Poetry, War2 Comments

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He always walks with head so bowed
Keeping from the other’s crowd
For he has shame and guilt to bear
And for mocking voices he doesn’t care.

He once bore arms and was a knight
But turned once he from noble fight
And now a coward brand bears he
Upon his face for all to see.

But none can know just why he turned
Why battle honour he had spurned
They cannot know the man he’d fight
His father, that was this man’s plight.

For father fought on evil’s side
A fight against their family’s pride
And now he bears this wicked scorn
His father’s sin, the family torn.

©Joe Wilson – The scorn…2014

The word is STOP…

On By jovisgoesIn Poetry, Point of View, War, wisdom5 Comments

I’ve never killed in my long life
neither enemy soldier, politician, nor wife
This feat that causes me no surprise
Is what we call living in its normal guise.

I would never be so naïve as to say
The pen is always the only way
But it seems to me that war only proved
Who will remain, and who is removed.

And all this killing that leaves nations bereft
With the vile bitter cordite smell that is left
Widows lose husbands, fathers lose sons
Babies are dying from the barrels of guns.

To save nations weapons of course must be used
But there are so many people who are being abused
And when one discusses what is now simply absurd
There is nothing that is mightier than the word.

©Joe Wilson – The word is STOP…2014

 

“War does not determine who is right – only who is left”.
Bertrand Russell

War zones…

On By jovisgoesIn Life, Loss, Poetry, political, Terror, WarLeave a comment

Each side at pains to prove their own case
they can always justify their way
never considering their citizens plight
Ordinary people rarely having their say.

Then the bullets start to fly
followed by mortars and tanks
apartments get blown up causing homelessness
and then there’s a run on the banks.

Foreign media all fly in
obviously to get a good scoop
around the demolished buildings
with their cameramen they all troop.

Folks entire livelihoods go up in flame
for them it has now all gone
they rely on the aid available now
it’s just the choosing which one.

The cards have been dealt
a crisis may have passed
but the so needed PEACE
is unlikely…to last.

Joe Wilson – War zones…2014

My beloved parents…

On By jovisgoesIn Family, Illness, Loss, Love, Personal, Poetry, Regret, WarLeave a comment

His now withered hand hardly moved
and yet I still knew what he meant
but it hurt me so to see my Dad
once a man so powerfully strong
be brought down by a bad heart
and by arthritis and so cruelly bent.

His last eleven years were all in pain
it was plain for all to see
he worked all through the second vile war
sometimes in long eighteen-hour shifts
but he died at only fifty-two
in front of my siblings and me.

I will never know how my dear Mum coped
there were six of us to raise
and though she struggled, oh how she struggled
she fed and clothed us by means
It was only much later as an adult
that I understood and looked back in praise.

©Joe Wilson – My beloved parents…2014