Posted in Poetry

Dream Prompt-

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Beach Nightmare.
© LC 2017

Sun scorched sand burns my
feet. We run toward crashing blue
waves. Noise. So loud! The
earth is mad! The sky
is darkened with black fighter
jets. The ground shakes. The
jets start firing toward people.
“I told you.” / It’s black.

From prompt– Write a poem based on a dream you had. Try to reproduce the sensations of the dream.

This is from a dream I had after we came home from our beach trip. In my dream, it was the same time next year. No, I don’t want to return to the beach again next year. But it’s not only the dream..

Photo credit– Deviant Art

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Posted in Poetry

Red Sky in Morning

Red Sky in Morning
© LC 2016

When I awoke this morning,
it was to loud crashes and booms–
bright reds and white lighting up the sky.
Signs of impending doom.
Men scattered in the distance with guns, angry.
If not for their anger, their misery, their strife-
I would have thought the fireworks were pretty.
But alas, the rockets kept firing with such might,
Little boys playing on a beach died– innocents– what a pity!!
I covered both ears, but their screams resonate in my ears.
I do not understand such anger– such hate,
that would lead men to carry out such atrocious plans.
To take what little land away from people– that is rightfully theirs–
Why the need to hate your fellow-man?
We are supposed to love our neighbors.
The whole situation is a recipe for disaster.
Each side ready to fire at a minutes notice if need be.
With Israel standing alone against its neighbors.
That just doesn’t seem fair to me.
All her allies are too far away.
The civil unrest makes me uneasy.
The government is so unstable!
With so many hostiles, the suicide bombers ready to strike!
For their cause, they will die because they are able.
I can hear screams from out the front door!
I cannot sleep at night because there is no rest here,
the children are crying, I can see a trail of smoke out of my window!
The rockets land here, there, and everywhere.
We would leave, but there is no place to go.
With rockets lighting up the sky and the bombs– I feel so unsafe.

Posted in Music

Memorial Day Mix-Up

Memorial Day Mix-up!

ONE– Papa Roach- No Matter What

No matter what
I got your back
I’ll take a bullet for you if it comes to that
I swear to god
That in the bitter end
We’re gonna be the last ones standing

TWO– Five Finger Death Punch- Wrong Side of Heaven

Arms wide open, I stand alone.
I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone.
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
The wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side, righteous side of hell.

THREE– Breaking Benjamin- I Will Not Bow

I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away

FOUR– Lenny Kravitz- American Woman

Huh, American woman, stay away from me
American woman, mama let me be
Don’t come hanging ’round my door
I don’t wanna see your face no more
I got more important things to do
Than spend my time growin’ old with you
Now woman, stay away
American woman, listen what I say

FIVE– U2- Sunday, Bloody Sunday

I can’t believe the news today
Oh, I can’t close my eyes
And make it go away
How long…
How long must we sing this song
How long, how long…
’cause tonight…we can be as one
Tonight…
Broken bottles under children’s feet
Bodies strewn across the dead end street
But I won’t heed the battle call
It puts my back up
Puts my back up against the wall
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Sunday, Bloody Sunday

SIX– The Cranberries- Zombie

head hangs lowly
Child is slowly taken
And the violence caused such silence
Who are we mistaken?
But you see, it’s not me
It’s not my family
In your head, in your head
They are fighting
With their tanks, and their bombs
And their bombs, and their guns
In your head, in your head
They are crying
In your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie
What’s in your head?
In your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie-ie, oh

SEVEN– CCR- Fortunate Son

Some folks are born made to wave the flag
Ooh, they’re red, white and blue
And when the band plays “Hail to the chief”
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord
It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no senator’s son, son
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one, no

Yeah!
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Lord, don’t they help themselves, oh
But when the taxman comes to the door
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes

It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no millionaire’s son, no
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one, no

EIGHT– Bruce Springsteen- Born in the USA

The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
End up like a dog that’s been beat too much
Till you spend half your life just covering up
Born in the U.S.A., I was born in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A., born in the U.S.A.
Got in a little hometown jam
So they put a rifle in my hand
Sent me off to a foreign land
To go and kill the yellow man
Born in the U.S.A., I was born in the U.S.A.
Born in the U.S.A., born in the U.S.A.

NINE– Bob Marley and the Wailers- Buffalo Soldier

Buffalo Soldier, Dreadlock Rasta:
There was a Buffalo Soldier in the heart of America,
Stolen from Africa, brought to America,
Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival.

I mean it, when I analyze the stench –
To me it makes a lot of sense:
How the Dreadlock Rasta was the Buffalo Soldier,
And he was taken from Africa, brought to America,
Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival.

Said he was a Buffalo Soldier, Dreadlock Rasta –
Buffalo Soldier in the heart of America.

TEN–Guns and Roses- Civil War

“What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.
Some men you just can’t reach…
So, you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it!
Well, he gets it!
N’ I don’t like it any more than you men.”
Look at your young men fighting
Look at your women crying
Look at your young men dying
The way they’ve always done before
Look at the hate we’re breeding
Look at the fear we’re feeding
Look at the lives we’re leading
The way we’ve always done before

ELEVEN– Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band- Turn, Turn, Turn

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together
From underneath the trees, we watch the sky
Confusing stars for satellites
I never dreamed that you’d be mine
But here we are, we’re here tonight
Singing Amen, I’m alive (I’m alive)
Singing Amen, I’m alive
If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we’d see the day when nobody died
And I’m singing
Amen I, Amen I, Amen I, I’m alive
Amen I, Amen I, Amen I, I’m alive

THIRTEEN– Dixie Chicks– Travelin’ Solider

Two days past eighteen
He was waiting for the bus in his army green
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair
He’s a little shy so she give him a smile
So he said would you mind sittin’ down for a while
And talking to me, I’m feeling a little low
She said I’m off in an hour and I know where we can go
So they went down and they sat on the pier
He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don’t care
I got no one to send a letter to
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you

FOURTEEN– Billy Ray Cyrus- Some Gave All

I knew a man, called him Sandy Kane
Few folks even knew his name
But a hero, yes, was he
Left a boy, came back a man
Still many just don’t understand
About the reasons that we are free
I can’t forget the look in his eyes
Or the tears he cries
As he said these words to me
“All gave some and some gave all
And some stood through for the red, white and blue
And some had to fall
And if you ever think of me
Think of all your liberties and recall
Some gave all”

FIFTEEN– Toby Keith- American Soldier

I’m just trying to be a father,
Raise a daughter and a son,
Be a lover to their mother,
Everything to everyone.
Up and at ’em bright and early,
I’m all business in my suit,
Yeah, I’m dressed up for success from my head down to my boots,
I don’t do it for the money, there’s bills that I can’t pay,
I don’t do it for the glory, I just do it anyway,
Providing for our future’s my responsibility,
Yeah I’m real good under pressure, being all that I can be,
I can’t call in sick on Mondays when the weekend’s been too strong,
I just work straight through the holidays,
Sometimes all night long.
You can bet that I stand ready when the wolf growls at the door.
Hey, I’m solid, hey, I’m steady, hey, I’m true down to the core.

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Poetry

The Soldier

The Soldier
from the Sonnet Sequence 1914 by Rupert Brooke (1915)

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Posted in Poetry

Long Ago

Long Ago
©2016 LC

Long ago
when promises were kept
and words
didn’t affect how you slept
and kisses
were short and on your cheek
and clothes
didn’t distinguish you a “geek”
and time
didn’t just pass you by
you grew up
even though the kid inside never dies
when goodbye didn’t mean forever
and breaking up
always meant you’d be back together
when love
was just a word
and hate
was never seen nor heard
when people
weren’t at war with one another
fighting to kill
brother against brother.

Posted in Poetry

The Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games.

© 2016 LC

War. Terrible War.

Children. Sacrificed. Yearly.

Taught to kill. Destroy.

But she overcomes it all.

A hero in her own right.

 

Thought I’d try to weave a poem from a movie.