Four Poems

10/01/03

CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS

Remember those who first did wield the sword,

Were simple people, followers of the Lord.

They did not spare a mother or a child,

Whom midst their slaughter were so foul defiled.

And Noah protested not nor even cried,

Saved himself while millions in horror died,

That all those born from Adam in the sea,

Were gone forever leaving a single family free.

Were all those people bad and awful folk?

The babies; children, what a bloody joke!

Yet they were killed by an angry God,

Leaving not a footprint where their feet had trod.

No! War wont cease so long as there is life,

So long as peace is formed from human strife.

10/01/03

THE TIDE

Where all dictators reign there will be war,

For those oppressed will never lose their will,

It is a perpetual everlasting sore,

That a million murderers will not ever kill.

As grass doth rise on the un-mown lawn,

Each complacent lapse will turn a spark to flame,

Realms will whither like germ-infested corn,

And thousands die to resurrect their name

Those who taint their fingers with their blood,

Shall find their deeds doth taint their very own,

For though they interfere for the good,

The stain will seep through skin into their bone.

Though war creates the tools of future time,

Such progress is the ghost of its decline.

10/01/03

DINING OUT

We thank thee for the beasts we have killed,

The insects poisoned while we grow our corn,

The fish that die to our anglers skilled,

The cooking fires that pollute our dawn.

We thank thee for the honey we do rob,

From bees that work their busy lives away,

We thank thee for the sheep in wooly mob,

The chickens, which we eat and force to lay.

We thank thee for these deaths, which give us life,

The birds we shoot and slaughter for a meal,

The little piglets murdered with a knife,

The lack of remorse we animal killers feel.

Most of all we thank thee for the gun,

Which makes all this killing so much bloody fun.

FUN WITH A GUN

10/01/03

Why did I kill him... well I do not know,

It seemed like fun to do at the time,

He was no friend, and, hell! He was no foe,

But I was not thinking that it was a crime.

It’s great to watch their faces wracked with fear,

Their bulging eyes the horror they display,

Their arms thrown up like they are going to cheer,

But hell, we’re not about to start a game and play!

They fall into a heap upon the ground,

Lie there twitching blood running everywhere,

After the first few grunts they never make a sound,

And I stand there loud laughing; I don’t care.

Anyway when all is said and done,

I was just having fun with a gun.

©2003 Colin Jones

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