Verica Peacock
Sonja Smolec
Gordon Buchanan                            
Ivica Smolec    
Laura Lamarca
...

Infinity

Spiral sphere spins around
millions of miles in space;
beautiful colours run aground,
but there’s no trace of human race.

What mystery lies beyond stars
our still small minds cannot conceive;
how many more planets await
discovery, we can't perceive.

Our earth is but a minute segment
in the enormous concept of space,
we wonder if other worlds exist
peopled by creatures of different race?

Do they communicate? Can they be seen?
Are they inanimate or humanoid?
Perhaps giants or dwarves, yellow or green
war-raging or peaceloving in the void?
 

(C) Verica Peacock
 

To The Top

(C) Gordon Buchanan
 

Knight of Love

He’s crucified by his passions
that keep him in the sweet eternal sorrows
dipped in a coctail of acid and honey,
mostly too proud to discover
his bubbly soul.
He’s a Knight of Love.
With his warm heart he atacks  towards a sword
until the sword bends.
He’s not one of noble blood -
his blood gushes red
as dense as strawberry syrup.
And he doesn’t have his Sancho,
he’s streches his hand out  like a sword of sugar,
his shield a smile,
and his lance a fishing rod.
He tries to catch the stars
riding on his dreams.
 

To The Top

Explosive Ideals
 
Each day when I wake
to quaking thoughts
of peace that elusively awaits,
to seldomly shimmer
in dimmer dreams...
of future
in freedom of fate.
 
Veiling each action
in terror's transactions,
in code
for foreboding
extremes, as secrets transpire
on funeral pyres and the world
falls apart at the seams.
 
I fight for a cause without
pause to ponder, like an ant
industrially so, no wonder
of why, I just need to try
and in death...help liberty grow.
 
Like you, I am human, I feel
fear and pain, in stains
from childhood
drowned in disdain,
as shame swallowed voice
to banish our choice
and leaders dictated to reign.
 
Suicide seems like our one
salvation, paving its path
from deprivation-
independence delivered
from a severed society
as our name
gains global notoriety.
 
And eyes look on as we're forced
to kill against our own will
as you watch us destroy...
you see as we maim and think
it's a game, a decoy of heartless
sorrows of tomorrow.
 
Snatched agendas from leaders of lies,
despising the system that's forced
us to be, yet you don't see
the mirror's reflection or our own
dejection in a life with its fee.
 
I didn't ask for this murderous
task, nor the blood
smeared across my soul, but
if I do not fight
for the right of belief,
no relief will catch me
the day that I fall.
 
Each operation to take
a function...a fake, from grid
references of a much bigger plan,
as man forces his fears,
asks the world to adhere
and covers
his own mistakes when he can.
 
Xonerate blame to point fingers at us
as we linger in attitude's flame,
as the start soon dies
in cries of planned hurt
and the end wins wars to begin.
 
Pleading for mercy with morals
of greed won't feed the children
the West soon forgot,
in this vicious circle of virulent view-
devotion to dread
on a sphere destined to rot.
 
Lessons in life are given to learn,
yet you leave us to burn
in graves yet to be dug - in strife
torn and spent, you dictate
we repent, as forgiveness is pulled
from under hope's rug.
 
Only our God can save us now
from destruction
that we've chosen to tread,
too far on this road
too heavy the load
peace shall grace us
the day that we're dead.
 
Didn't plan this path, nor the wrath
of your hearts, nor the existence
we've been forced to dwell - in hell bound
to climb, most times compelled...
in sincerity, we kill you as-well.
 
Each bomb and each body
is a statement, a sob...for a life
we didn't wish to keep.
"Evil" as labeled, yet human as lived,
as our actions implore you to weep...
Never forgotten in this untaught world
as innocence stutters
to flutter...to fly-
spare a thought for our fight,
consider our rights
and you'll realize why we had to die.
 

(C) Laura Lamarca