BROKEN CIRCLES

From the time man arrived on the planet
And, hunting, achieved his first kill,
He opened a flood with that one drop of blood;
It's a flood that's engulfing him still.
There's more pain on the planet than ever,
Much hate and much hurt to take in,
But the tears in the eyes
As the innocents cry
Far outweigh the original sin.

Ah, the Circle of Strife
Edges people on,
In the silent hope
Of a peaceful end;
Till we find true love
In a world uncaring,
Ah, the circle,
The Circle of Strife

And the Circle of Hell
Ever plunges on,
Through the broken hopes
And the people's dreams;
Ah but I survived, in
A world uncaring,
And found love through
The Circle of ... Life!

END

AMERICAN BAGGAGE
by
A Peace Soldier, Lost at Basra.

"Let us be soldiers, take flak in the desert together."
"I've got my kitbag, I'm eager to go!"
So we bought a pack of rhetoric, and Mr Bush's lies,
Then took off to fight for America.

"Kenny," I said, as our unit assembled in Basra,
"England seems so far away to me now,
It took me nine hours to get here from Liverpool,
I've come to fight for America."

Mingling in the town,
Playing games with the locals,
You thought a guy on a donkey was Saddam Hussein,
So I joked, "Be careful his horse-whip is really a rifle!"

"Pass me a hand grenade, I think there's one in the tank hatch."
"We chucked the last one an hour ago."
So I looked at my rifle, then I checked my magazine,
As the moon rode over the open sand.

"Kenny, I'm scared too," I said, for I knew he was weeping,
"My rifle is empty, I think we may die,
Look, our attackers are swarming around us ...!"
They've all gone to war on America.
All gone to war on America.
All gone to war on America.

ANAGRAMMATISM
(A Commonly Unsociable Malaise)
by
Alexi Cographer

I'm a married man; need to do my anagrams,
Why, I just don't know,
Late nights all alone at my PC
Exchanging 'O's.

Tax my screaming brain, till it's squealing out with pain,
"Please leave me alone!"
All those 'X's 'W's, 'A's, where
Will they all go?

But as I'm almost ready for bed,
A tune fills my poor head.
(Oh blimey!)

"Bang! Bang! Move those 'X' and 'H's
Then disallow three 'E's,
Clang! Clang! Now we need a 'W',
Must remove a 'B'."

When I go to bed, anagrams assault my head,
It's so hard to sleep,
Wish that I could grab some elusive
Zee, e, e, ee's.

Through the midnight gloom, letters zoom around the room,
'I's and 'A's and 'J's,
'H's 'B's and 'S's and 'P's
And oh, oh, oh, 'O's.

But just as I am falling asleep,
I hear those faraway words:
(Oh blimey!)

"Bang! Bang! Move those 'X' and 'H's
Then disallow three 'E's,
Clang! Clang! Now we need a 'W',
Must remove a 'B'."

PC's on again, back in the computer den,
Never mind the sleep,
I'll resolve this gram I am certain,
Hee, hee, hee, hee!

Hear wife scream with wrath, "Turn that Bxxx computer off!"
"Shoosh!" I scream right back,
(Shoosh, he screams right back)
"Just one measly 'X' to use up and I'll
Hi-hit the sack!"

Whoopee! I have found another 'X',
Er ... now I need a 'C'!
(Oh blimey!)

"Bang! Bang! Move those' 'X' and 'H's
Then disallow three 'E's,
Clang! Clang! Now we need a 'W',
Must remove a 'B'."

Wa-ha, ha-ha, must lose more 'R's,
A-tee-hee, hee-hee, I need a 'P'!

KILLING TIME
A Sad Hour at Westminster Bridge.
September 3 at 18:02

The might of London's sights is captured here,
Yet people, vacant-eyed go rushing by,
All heedless of this gracious majesty.
And now the busy City starts to share
The bustle of the evening rush-hour where,
The Gherkin Tower, The Dome, and London Eye,
Predominate the river and the sky;
While smoky air clings mute to window sills,
Then swirls and laps round Big Ben's steepled tower,
Impatient to delay that looming hour.
In vain; for Time, relentless, passes till
A lone voice whispers softly, 'Allah's Will.'
The bridge erupts ... a loathsome aim fulfilled.

STRANGER ON MY FLIGHT
(A Terror Intention In A Toilet?)

Stranger on my flight, weird nervy glances,
Scanning left and right,
What were the chances he'd explode a bomb
Afore the flight was through?

Something in my brain was darned suspicious,
Something in his eyes was darned malicious,
Sweating constantly,
Just like a whore in church.

Stranger on my flight, lone, introverted,
Sitting over on my right,
And that next moment as he
Went off to the loo,
I viewed his velvet shoes,
Were the heels trigger devices?
What's the odds we won't survive this?

Nagging in my head, a voice unnerving
Said, 'We'll soon be dead, everyone burning,
Sure as eggs are eggs,
We're gonna get bloodshed.'

Death was but a jot away
An evil terror plot away.

One thing niggled me ... I knew that guy! Who-
Ever can it be? Then recognition
Hit with a fast woosh!
It was ...
That git George Bush!

Terror? Var na na!
Terror, ta ta ta!

A MANGLED CONSERVATION
On A Dark, Barren Land

It's a barren forest ruin,
Of a now dead pile of wood,
And the sun shines on the naked space
Of a place now lost for good.
And the rulers count their money;
Cloaked in vain indifference
Like vultures in the sky,
You can hear contented sighs,
As they mangle conservation
For the superficial highs
Of a greed that rules their lives.

And the merchandisers prosper
With each forest that is lost,
And corrupt administrations
Shut their eyes to what it's cost.
Now our Earth is slowly dying,
And we think it does not matter,
Think there's loads of time,
How can we be so blind?
As we mangle conservation
For the superficial highs
Of a greed that rules our lives.

We may one day learn a lesson,
Rue how rich Earth used to be,
Ah, analysis is futile,
It's all down to you and me;
And you whine your words of sorrow,
But they're only empty nothings,
We can't bring back our trees,
Oh, foolish, mad Mankind!
How you mangled conservation
For the superficial high
Of a greed that ruled your lives.