Actual Poetry Thursdays! A Triple Dose. (No.3)

So this week, I had actually planned to post the painful parody that I have just written. However with the delightful Nav Logan sending me some poetry so I felt I should air that instead. After all, if you have ever been even slightly entertained by a drabble I have written, it's all thanks to Nav. He was the first to introduce me to them. Then, Nicky White once more delivered some more excellent poetry my way so I thought, why not share them both with you ... because I'm nice like that. So enjoy and don't forget to check out there respective pages.

Nav's poems are taken directly from his latest book, a collection of drabbles and poems which you can get here: Little Words and I really fucking recommend that you do as it really is fantastic.

White Feathers Fall: Part One by Nav Logan

White feathers fall, and the dove drops dead
Bloody and smoking, shot through the head.
All hope seems lost as we silently watch,
The soul departs from the shattered remains.
We weep and we mourn, and blame the gods,
Look for a culprit, someone to blame.
Question ourselves. Were we really at fault?
As the dead chill slowly, we look for a plot.
He who is innocent shall be the killer.
For he is beyond all blame,
But once the blood of vengeance fills his palms,
He is tainted and stained like the rest.

White Feathers Fall: Part Two by Nav Logan

So the war machine rumbles,
The band finds its beat.
The speakers chant the words
And speak of defeat.
Of the ones they will lay low
And make scream and beg,
No quarter given,
As it’s off with their head.
And any who stood near,
No matter the reason,
Will all be dragged under
And slaughtered for treason?
When the dust finally settles,
And sanity reigns,
The crying of angels
And mothers’ remain.
Children will weep,
Fathers are dead,
Sons will grow up,
With hate in their heads.
Grow up to new slaughter;
Teach hate to their sons,
Creating a circle of hatred and guns.
So the dove it died here,
With a tear in its eye,
Watching in silence
As young boys march by.
And all of the time,
The voices rage higher,
Demanding the end of the funeral pyre.
By feeding more death,
To put out the flame,
Is this our great wisdom?
Or are we insane?
As the memory of the victims is lost in the hate,
Reason appears,
Before it’s too late.
Bringing the peacemaker
To stop all the killing,
If only he finds the hearts of the willing,
To learn from our past,
To look far ahead.
And make something good,
With the loss and the dead.
Break up the hatred,
Make people see sense,
Bring them together,
In a common defence,
Of base human values,
The family and love,
As was the wish of the now demised dove.
No us and them,
Just people like you,
With mothers and children,
And their own point of view.
Yes, we are different,
But that makes us great,
Together united
We have hope in our fate.
We can do so much when we finally say,
No matter the god’s name,
No matter the way,
If we learn to respect,
And look for the good.
Do unto others,
As we hope that they would,
We then stand a chance of doing it right,
Teach children peace
And not how to fight.
When that day comes,
The dove will arise,
And all will forget its present demise.
It will fly overhead in tribute of peace,
To a chorus of angel
… And the mourning will cease.

Scarlet Angel by Nicky D White

Her words so angelic to his ears
The melodic silkiness wraps around his slithering façade
Everything about her is virtuous
His adoration for her swells

Invading his already poisoned thoughts
Filling his soul with her light
Making him breathe in her every word
Extinguishing his pain from deep within

Breaking down the walls from which you are hidden
She tears you open exposing you for you who really are
Igniting your senses with her every touch
Your emotions raw and filled with lust

Her eyes void of sin as you welter
Drowning in your thirst for her
Enslaved by your needs
In love with a Scarlet Angel