New antiwar poems

[Jeffersons Ghost]

DISTANT CRY

Engines snarl across the sand
In an empty arid foreign land
as his heart hears a distant cry
that wasn't fair or planned

He hates the fierce fangs of fate
that no one can anticipate
his brain warns that he might soon die
so, feeliings wane and wait

He knows all his buddies care
and dread seeing dead eyes stare
through them them into a cloudless sky
Death's threat strips ego bare

RED SHIRT

It didn't really hurt,
as blood dripped down her shirt
and puddled in a pool,
spilling across the sand

It was hard to believe
with no time to percieve
both the wise and the fool
are destined for Death's hand

There wasn't time to pray
or even find a way
to resurect her rare red jewel
is war still so very grand?

Here's a musical slideshow I did a while back for newer readers:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78lHcrxGx94