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Epitaph on Henry Martyn

Here Martyn lies. In Manhood's early bloom
The Christian Hero finds a Pagan tomb.
Religion, sorrowing o'er her favourite son,
Points to the glorious trophies that he won.
Eternal trophies! not with carnage red,
Not stained with tears by hapless captives shed,
But trophies of the Cross! for that dear name,
Through every form of danger, death, and shame,
Onward he journeyed to a happier shore,
Where danger, death, and shame assault no more.

poem by Thomas Babbington Macaulay
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His Way

In His way you must strive, to undo the changes
Of your life, that mingle with flames and abundance.
I have an ear that constructs war and carnage,
For my lesson is achieved and my pressure is less.
To see an eye and another eye commends the thought
Of a bigger age, of increases and demonstrations.
I discover pugnacious attitudes in the souls,
They fought for longevity, but where is display?
I have to matter to the wholeness,
I mattered and you did hurt over matters
That may utter praises for the Lord.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Stigmata

My Lord Jesus, the human God I can touch,
poor shepherd who looked after us.
You were crucified by our human brotherhood.
Your innocent blood stain
do the puritans can wash
and clean their hands ever?
You climbed the mountain Golgotha
with the heavy cross,
if I were there my Lord
definitely I could have given my shoulder.
I am carrying my cross since childhood
and I realized the heaviness.
I meet sometimes Judas with his thick curved mustache
but still I am anxiously searching my dear Lord in this carnage.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Remorse & Regret

Remorse the feeling of regret
the regret of doing a event
The alarm of Knowing your Human
-
The feeling of which we all like Kill
The feeling that comes, when murder happens
But is unseen, neither Good, Bad
Just Unknown
-
Death, abuse, Blood, carnage
None of it is Ne or Unknown to it
Its just unknown to itself
-
No mercy in spreading itself
No remorse...
just regret and Fear, its job
building and growing like Cancer
Until you self-destruct
-
Remorse does its job

[...] Read more

poem by Marcellus Watts
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The Battling of a Nation

The inevitable battle strikes the awesome nation,
We call this town a nation of strength, the battle.
Itself the battle climbs, to put on an action of wounds,
The unavoidable victory is theirs, the defeat even theirs.
The battling may become a studied nation,
The work of bright light, a final lunch and an act of carnage
That belittles us if we were a nation of strong acts.
The battle shall learn more from the defeated,
The vanquished are celebrating an ion and atom,
The defeated are celebrating an awesome molecule.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Beau's Hunting

The sun seared the fine fringes
Of their shadows, a smoke transpired
They were burning an inferno
To thaw the thinning ice below
The swaying of their wobbly soles
The frost bit and sense was bereaved
Behind the intoxicated blear
They fell, but to where?
In the carnage of ephemeral Sundays?
Or in the concealed demons to lambaste?
Should I alert the armory?
Or should I pry harder?
Into the nights of the hunters
And learn the hunger game they play
And eloquently morph into an answer
For holes and questions
In the chest of veracity.

poem by Norman Santos
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Bullet From A Gun

I lived my life
Like a bullet from a gun
racing down a barrel
from an explosive past
Always smoke and fire and blast
Then I moved on

In my haste racing away
I'm concerned not who
I graze
All my days I came
crashing into, littered souls
What carnage, too

Once I left I was gone
awesome, strong
Hell-bent on ways
that destruction sent
Cold steel and
Hot lead

[...] Read more

poem by Midnights Voice
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The Urborn

Let it be, a dawn prayer,
dripping with fantasy
intercepting the strip-search of soul
tempting a mad psyche.

The sleeping volcano was going to celebrate,
put the sign on.
Perfectly shineless hands will raise
the banner to donate kidneys, eyes and heart

to the broken star, who on the name of book
was sending the empty cadaver on ivory car,
a saviour from carnage, to mimic
a divine touch.

Why are they playing with flames of summer?
Poor minutes were sinned, the centuries
will suffer now. On the green leaves
a nightingale lies bleeding!

poem by Satish Verma
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Pride Of The Flag

Fourth of August (1914) war was declared,
Thousands to the cause they flocked, they appeared not scared.
'Do their bit, do their stuff,
all be over by Christmas! ! '

Four years the war grinds back and forth, opposing lines,
carnage and brutality, as insanity shines.
750,000 had died,
200,000 plus never found, forever lost,
common sense it seems was never tried,
at unforgivable cost.
Generations perished,
what a price.
Is our freedom cherished?
Do we ever think of their ultimate sacrifice?

Pride of the flag,
to their deaths it did drag.!

poem by Guy Lipmore
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My mental pain

The pain inside me
The mental pain inside me
Makes physical pain seem like a walk in the park
But that’s just half
Of this story
Do you know how it feels for no one to hear you screaming
Its like time stood still
I’ve lost it… oh well
Time is now standing still
Why should one heart feel so much pain
And who will be the death of me
How long will It take for you to see
The damage, the carnage
Your words, your actions
have done to me
You words, your actions
Cause the pain inside me
Your words, your actions
Cause the mental pain inside me

poem by EmOzEd johnston
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