War
By J. A. Weymouth
Weighed down by glass columns,
Their repetitious hand gestures,
And made up backstabbing
All were for trouble and war.
Simple changes from thought of mountains,
Awful skyless horizons – hindered.
The metal ark reaches and dips itself
Into horrid carcasses.
Made by a scattering, a calamity
Amongst solemn promise-breakers
They join – hands together,
To the ready. And fire off into an unknown
December.
Dirt and blood will be described in poems.
Members. They shake. Healthy and wicked.
A fountain of blood is too obvious.
So, the path will devour – watchless and
strangeless/skyless.
A titter of a wave in their millions
drowning the folks with a tremor.
Ribbon red over white faces – no vermillion.
John would kill his brother.
Something alone to be gone,
A shiver in the cave – a whimper.
Why should we shape a man to none?
Figuring with numbers and with no breather?
No scars. No humiliation.
Repeat.
thethickersense 
beautiful
Thank you :-]
Thought provoking.
Thank you!
Very moving poetry, for one not claiming to be a poet! 🙂
Hahaha, thank you! It means a lot :-]
Very striking imagery. And the last line has a remarkable, albeit hopeless, effect.
Thank you! It means a lot one when someone comments on my poetry. It’s much appreciated :-]
Beautifully done. Gives the lie to your claim of not being a poet, of course!
Haha, thank you! I may have to change a few details… 😛
It made me teary eyed. I loved it. Very much.
Thank you! I’m glad you liked it 🙂
Redplace…whatever you do, don’t stop writing. I can see already in evolution in your skills and your work is both intriguing and necessaru. Thank you!
Now that’s the kind of motivation that gets those words stirring from deep down 🙂 thank you for your comment!