Greymure
04-28-2010, 07:34 PM
To the Last Moment of My Life
To the last moment of my life,
You've pushed me and helped dig my hole,
You've egged me on, you convinced me everything was going to be okay
And now
my voice has faded, my new life gone,
To you, I thought of you
And these thoughts became
The world
I know
I speak in words filled of sorrow,
The troubles of my modern life,
have filled my mind with words,
these troubles of my life,
have filled my heart with sorrow,
all the troubles in my life,
have filled my pillow with tears.
What has gone wrong?
I cannot explain to another,
my world feels as if caving in,
my mind has fallen to the flame,
my heart has drowned itself,
while my pillows suffocate me.
Shielded from this world I am no longer,
Let me finish my task is done,
for I have little left to live for,
let me go in peace so that no one hears,
let me go for no one cares to listen,
this is my last to all the world,
I shall be as I was before,
...nothing."
__________________________________________________ ___________
Where the horizon meets the sky
I know we made
No promises, no suicide
To the calming waves
Or to the tender tide, or to
The round blue sky...
To what do we aspire?
Should we swim,
or should we fly away--
to and fro
the ebb and flow
Dare we
the rungs of air and
clouds we cling,
deeper dive
To the mermaids
adrift amidst the coral reef
Singing porpoise song we never heard long before
We were swallowed by the sea
Inside the halcyon's nest
curled against the feathered crest
or on the backs of birds the tired wings of falcon flight
No promises of suicide
we'll let your never kiss decide
------------------------------------------------------------------------
KA…..
Boom!
KAAAAA………
Boom!
explosion rattles
clean coffee cups
one falls of the counter
hot a full of tea
the handle shatters.
It's only a truck back
firing
Or
Was it the Marines?
Boom!
Boom!
detonation implodes
clutch children keep them
from screaming,
one keeps crying
just like in that last episode of MASH
It's only
a bomb dropping
outside
Stomp...
Goosestep…. Stomp...
sounds of combat boot footsteps in cadence and in English
look up from the computer,
focus scattered.
It's only workmen
remodeling the pothole in street I had been complaining about for a month
Damn county
Potholes in Iraq bring back the memories of that trip to Anzio
Where my great uncle, Aldo, fought with Rangers 1
Yet in 1976,
Italy had still not repaired the road in Anzio, made by an American bomb in 1932
Stomp... Stomp
That sound
my grandparents left behind in Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy
Their prayers abated because of war
A Muslim bows to the East to pray
His prayer must stop
Because of a different war
Because of A different reason?
Kaboom
Ka…………………………….boom
Ka……………….boom
It was only
A suicide bomber
Another folded flag handed to a grieving mother
As a Marine in full dress blues salutes and offers
The thanks of a grateful nation
Through the tears of a grieving mother sitting in Clayton’s Funeral Home
Closed casket, her son no longer has a face
Am I grateful?
Even though I did not ask him to die for me
He didn’t have to die for me
I didn’t send him there
To die among
Smoking oil wells as gas prices reach $4.00
Where are the weapons of mass…..
That’s right, information was “faulty”
Damn CIA, Damn WHO EVER WAS IN CHARGE
The cadence of
thousands of footsteps.
echo out crunching
from under the table
Their meager meal goes interrupted……………………,
Since it split on the floor in a puddle of goat’s milk and whatever that was they were eating
It's just the soldiers
marching in the city
Reminding them who is in charge now
Just as sure as we are?????
We tore his statue down we had a truck to help
Just
As we
Smashed the head of Marx in Chemnitz in 1980
Hope CNN got that shot
Tires squeal
A long hose unravels
It's only the water delivery
affirming my American vanity
As I tend my green grass lawn
Screech!
Screeeeeeeeeeeeccccccccccccccch!
Darkness is shattered
As a tanks rolls
past the doorstep
reach
The sound distressing
As the gears grind and turrets spin to focus their cannons on
An open door
I remember hearing that awful sound of Her Majesty’s Royal Tank Brigade
When I lived across from Palace Barracks in 2001
It's only the zealots
forgetting their humanity
While
The American world nestles
In comfort and safety
Under a blanket of security
Do you feel secure?
I know I sure
DO
In Belfast, I grew used to the sounds of marching feet of British soldiers marching
Were they were not wanted, sometimes
listening to the sounds of war lulled me to sleep,
I still have
Memories of Vietnam brought into our living rooms live by Walter Concrite
Looking for my cousin George, who left his mind with the Viet Cong
Now in these sounds haunt
Bagdad, Gaza, Croatia, Serbia, East Timor, Somalia, North Korea so on and so forth
After everyone has forgotten Lockerby and 9/11
The children learn to
Cower in corners, hands tight against the ears, face down because of broken glass
Not much time to play
Beside who really wants to play among the debris of war?
Back in Christ The King
We had those same drills,
Cowering under our desks, our heads kept low waiting for that sound
Of the Soviet missiles overhead that never came in 1974
don't sleep. don't sleep, don’t ever sleep
Have you ever looked into the eyes of a child who has seen WAR fought on their neighborhood streets like those
In East Belfast, Andersonville and in the public estates of Rathcoole
Footballs supplied by an invading force
KAAAA………………….BOOOM
KAAAAAA………………………….
(THE WAR FADES INTO A BLANK SCREEN)
For you
To figure out the ending,
To the last moment of my life,
You've pushed me and helped dig my hole,
You've egged me on, you convinced me everything was going to be okay
And now
my voice has faded, my new life gone,
To you, I thought of you
And these thoughts became
The world
I know
I speak in words filled of sorrow,
The troubles of my modern life,
have filled my mind with words,
these troubles of my life,
have filled my heart with sorrow,
all the troubles in my life,
have filled my pillow with tears.
What has gone wrong?
I cannot explain to another,
my world feels as if caving in,
my mind has fallen to the flame,
my heart has drowned itself,
while my pillows suffocate me.
Shielded from this world I am no longer,
Let me finish my task is done,
for I have little left to live for,
let me go in peace so that no one hears,
let me go for no one cares to listen,
this is my last to all the world,
I shall be as I was before,
...nothing."
__________________________________________________ ___________
Where the horizon meets the sky
I know we made
No promises, no suicide
To the calming waves
Or to the tender tide, or to
The round blue sky...
To what do we aspire?
Should we swim,
or should we fly away--
to and fro
the ebb and flow
Dare we
the rungs of air and
clouds we cling,
deeper dive
To the mermaids
adrift amidst the coral reef
Singing porpoise song we never heard long before
We were swallowed by the sea
Inside the halcyon's nest
curled against the feathered crest
or on the backs of birds the tired wings of falcon flight
No promises of suicide
we'll let your never kiss decide
------------------------------------------------------------------------
KA…..
Boom!
KAAAAA………
Boom!
explosion rattles
clean coffee cups
one falls of the counter
hot a full of tea
the handle shatters.
It's only a truck back
firing
Or
Was it the Marines?
Boom!
Boom!
detonation implodes
clutch children keep them
from screaming,
one keeps crying
just like in that last episode of MASH
It's only
a bomb dropping
outside
Stomp...
Goosestep…. Stomp...
sounds of combat boot footsteps in cadence and in English
look up from the computer,
focus scattered.
It's only workmen
remodeling the pothole in street I had been complaining about for a month
Damn county
Potholes in Iraq bring back the memories of that trip to Anzio
Where my great uncle, Aldo, fought with Rangers 1
Yet in 1976,
Italy had still not repaired the road in Anzio, made by an American bomb in 1932
Stomp... Stomp
That sound
my grandparents left behind in Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy
Their prayers abated because of war
A Muslim bows to the East to pray
His prayer must stop
Because of a different war
Because of A different reason?
Kaboom
Ka…………………………….boom
Ka……………….boom
It was only
A suicide bomber
Another folded flag handed to a grieving mother
As a Marine in full dress blues salutes and offers
The thanks of a grateful nation
Through the tears of a grieving mother sitting in Clayton’s Funeral Home
Closed casket, her son no longer has a face
Am I grateful?
Even though I did not ask him to die for me
He didn’t have to die for me
I didn’t send him there
To die among
Smoking oil wells as gas prices reach $4.00
Where are the weapons of mass…..
That’s right, information was “faulty”
Damn CIA, Damn WHO EVER WAS IN CHARGE
The cadence of
thousands of footsteps.
echo out crunching
from under the table
Their meager meal goes interrupted……………………,
Since it split on the floor in a puddle of goat’s milk and whatever that was they were eating
It's just the soldiers
marching in the city
Reminding them who is in charge now
Just as sure as we are?????
We tore his statue down we had a truck to help
Just
As we
Smashed the head of Marx in Chemnitz in 1980
Hope CNN got that shot
Tires squeal
A long hose unravels
It's only the water delivery
affirming my American vanity
As I tend my green grass lawn
Screech!
Screeeeeeeeeeeeccccccccccccccch!
Darkness is shattered
As a tanks rolls
past the doorstep
reach
The sound distressing
As the gears grind and turrets spin to focus their cannons on
An open door
I remember hearing that awful sound of Her Majesty’s Royal Tank Brigade
When I lived across from Palace Barracks in 2001
It's only the zealots
forgetting their humanity
While
The American world nestles
In comfort and safety
Under a blanket of security
Do you feel secure?
I know I sure
DO
In Belfast, I grew used to the sounds of marching feet of British soldiers marching
Were they were not wanted, sometimes
listening to the sounds of war lulled me to sleep,
I still have
Memories of Vietnam brought into our living rooms live by Walter Concrite
Looking for my cousin George, who left his mind with the Viet Cong
Now in these sounds haunt
Bagdad, Gaza, Croatia, Serbia, East Timor, Somalia, North Korea so on and so forth
After everyone has forgotten Lockerby and 9/11
The children learn to
Cower in corners, hands tight against the ears, face down because of broken glass
Not much time to play
Beside who really wants to play among the debris of war?
Back in Christ The King
We had those same drills,
Cowering under our desks, our heads kept low waiting for that sound
Of the Soviet missiles overhead that never came in 1974
don't sleep. don't sleep, don’t ever sleep
Have you ever looked into the eyes of a child who has seen WAR fought on their neighborhood streets like those
In East Belfast, Andersonville and in the public estates of Rathcoole
Footballs supplied by an invading force
KAAAA………………….BOOOM
KAAAAAA………………………….
(THE WAR FADES INTO A BLANK SCREEN)
For you
To figure out the ending,