Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

So now the step is taken in those footprints we must tread,
Brief peace resides with victory as we count our noble dead.
Make haste! This war is over, but our ranks we must restore,
For though peace resides in heaven in hell there’s still a war.
Bring forth the new messiah, who would come to save us all,
Who will water down the fire before a new one we install.
Let us argue out our politics, and slander who we can:
But no God will come to earth to say, “these dreadful wars I ban.”
So who are all these heroes who promise peace in our time,
Vastly wealthy people whose motives most people can’t define.
For it is the dollar that is the label glued upon the national flag,
That’s why our neighbours are all criminals with guns inside their bags.
Strategic counter moves are clever from which the new messiah gains,
But after all the long withdrawals the basic problem still remains.

~ 2 ~

The problem is not oil it is not greed for land and space,
It is in driving in the strategic wedge to mark a firm and solid place,
For the principles of democracy to change dictatorial laws at least,
Where they dine on different policies than those on which we feast,
Deploring the harsh control of people that are given no right to say,
What it is that they are thinking that may describe a better way.
The freedom we are seeking and the peace we hope to claim,
Will not come unless we cleanse the earth of histories bloody stain.
We must be as the green sapling, which bends before it breaks,
Though the aged cannot bend too far, but they make less mistakes.
Young men are our soldiers, who are vulnerable to those,
Who supply their education, and choose the fashion of their clothes.
The young gullible and fanciful, like to prove how good they are,
So we send them off to prove themselves in some crazy bastard’s war.

~ 3 ~

Oh brave we are in seeking what we thought would be a breeze,
Driving onward through the forest oblivious of the trees,
We endorse it when we’re winning but when our soldiers begin to die,
We start blaming our elected leaders asking them why oh bloody why.
Is it worth it what we’re doing is it worth the lives we lose,
Does it matter who is in command he’ll be the leader that we choose.
Does the hype and fanfare matter; be he black or white or green,
The throne remains unmolested though we oft replace the Queen.
So one bloke will do it different, be he from the left or right,
After billions of wasted dollars spent on the governmental fight.
Mother Nature grinning cutely on the sidelines once again,
Sees another pretend Messiah promising what he’ll not attain.
Yes there comes a new Messiah with his media entourage,
With fluid tongue and promises but with same old camouflage.

~ 4 ~

It is the very tired old story repeated over and over again,
New generations with their champion believing much the same,
As those who went before them with their hopes and dreams but well,
Most of them were shattered in the flame and the smoke of Hell.
Will there ever be a handshake that is truly offered and sincere,
Will we ever see the day when all nuclear bombs will disappear,
Or is there no one left to trust no real savoir at all,
Who will wipe the platter clean and a better system install.
There comes the elite Obama and the old man John McCain,
Two human beings with an urgency to reach the hall of fame.
Religion raises its nasty head and racism joins in the fray,
But it will be the dollars that are spent that defines the final way.
Yet everyone is free to think and yes to have their say;
But no, Tis no Messiah that comes to save for us the day.

~ 5 ~

It is a fluent speaking politician making promises he can’t keep,
Quoting carefully written scripts to wake the impressionable from sleep.
Casting flowers about the countryside where flowers will not grow,
Redirecting bitter winds to places where bitter winds don’t blow.
The new wave of generations the youth of the world to come,
Are collectively inexperienced condemning what their fathers have done.
They see not the sky beyond the clouds and cordite smoke of war,
Thus will march in innocent columns as their fathers marched before.
Yet there comes a new Messiah who is talking peace to savage foe,
Who will accept his hand in friendship with their smiles all aglow,
But they’ll use this time of softness while they talk, to build their arms,
Raining the new Messiah with confetti; the charmer being charmed.
Yet could there be a miracle with the ingredients of every dream,
Well anything is possible, but a miracle we’ve never seen.