Janice Marie Foote's Musings
Spend your years wisely and you'll have less regrets to cash in at the end...
War Poems
Children of War... The insatiable quest for black gold forces
Tiny bruised backs up against the wall
How long 'til the cradle will fall
How long 'til they crack wide open
Sending orphaned children
Guttersniped by catastrophic wars
Screaming like banshees
As they perilously flee
From their dismembered homes
On twisted and crippled feet
Mangled by cluster bombs
Out onto streets of indifference
Where they acquiescently tread
As they beg for a peaceful future
With outstretched hearts
That have been shunned
By unfamilial minds of indifference
Whose hands push them out
Onto street corners to sleep
Inside dreams haunted by skeletal remains
---
Sculpture of Mourning...
War on the front lines
Indecipherable boundaries
Moribund soldiers encircle us
Dislimbed wading through ground blood
In allegiance we push on
Quivering, bent down low
Entering enemy territory
Praying that God's on our side
Silence is all but left behind as we separate
Our minds quickly fill with disconcerting thoughts
That shoot through our discombobulated heads
As we lurk through land mined terrain
Pushing forward, we raise our guns
Moving beyond our own limits with
"Only the strong will survive"
As our mantra of meditation
Anger and rage have become our best friends
Because at all costs, including our own lives
We must duly protect our beloved country
Along with its long held patriotic freedoms
Suddenly the silence in our heads is broken
A round of shots has been fired
Red splatters my face, colors my uniform
I taste the smell of blood on my lips
I look over, my compatriot is lying face up
An open wound remains where his heart once was
His life has been taken by friendly fire
He is down for the count permanently
His body lies still and lifeless
Below him crimson blood mingles with umber dirt
Organic materials create a sculpture of mourning
On lands orphaned by futile wars
---
Victims of War...
Victims of war
Dance on shards of pain
In life's futile battlefield
Ghosts dance in their head
Throwing shadows of death
Across casualties of life
Crimson colored tears fall
From eyes long blind
To blood spilt for oil
Orphaned children wandering
Are blown to fragmented pieces
By smart bombs dressed up as toys
Ears do not ring freedom
Flags tattered and torn weep
Innocents lie in a gulf of blood
---
War Torn...
We stand alone under flags of disjoined countries
Manipulated by leaders prepensely dividing humanity
Under gray skies filled with stealth bombers of peace
That loom over stark patriotic lies
In a war torn world marred by greed
Littered with corporate profiteers of death
Who punch holes in our wall of peace
With their iron fists of war
Brick by brick, they're trying to knock it down
As we fumble with weapons and stumble over words
In shopping malls brimming with sweatshop goods
That are bought with oil soaked greenbacks
While bloodied bodies float in the sands of Fallujah
Rotting flesh picked at by hungry vultures
Outraged Umms search amongst familial carnage
Heart wrenched, wailing out for lost sons and daughters
Above them angels with crippled wings won't look down
Their eyes are shamed by what they've left behind
Surely no Medal of Honor pinned upon their dead bodies will stop the tears
As they flow freely from Mothers' eyes left behind to bury their children
With scorned hands that pray for an end to these non-sensical wars
Behind veils of mourning that mask their sunken war torn eyes
---
What About that Pipeline?...
You asked me to write a poem
A poem about our brothers and sisters
Who no longer roam
So I ask you...
What about that pipeline?
What pipeline you say?
That pipeline
That will go from Turkmenistan
Right under Afghanistan
And whoever rules that land
Will be the man
What pipeline you say?
That pipeline owned in '98 by Unocal
The US gov's oil pal
Who backed out of the black gold deal
And who led you to believe
That it wasn't George but Al
Who ordered them to steal
But what about that pipeline?
What pipeline you say?
That pipeline
That will go from Turkmenistan
Right under Afghanistan
And whoever owns that land
Will be the man
So while rich white men are pimp fuckin'
And dirt poor Afghanistans are slave truckin'
Still I ask...
What about that pipeline?
What pipeline you say?
That pipeline
That will go from Turkmenistan
Right under Afghanistan
And whoever rules that land
Will be the man
Now watchin' the news I feel their blues
Their men's blues
That are wrapped under turbans with no clues
Their women's blues
That were once hidden under veils of differing hues
Who are now finally gettin' freedom's dues
Still what pipeline you say?
That pipeline
That will go from Turkmenistan
Right under Afghanistan
And whoever owns that land will be the man
Now I hear they want Osama dead
After once giving him royal CIA head
As they romanced him while others bled
In a land they once feared to tread
Now they want that pipeline back
What pipeline you still say?
That pipeline
That caused the twin towers to fall
That pipeline
That will produce an easy billion for 'em all
That pipeline
That will go from Turkmenistan
Right under Afghanistan
And whoever rules that land
Will be the man
---
What now of this Modern Day Promised Land?...
Twin angels on the blue horizon
Taken down by steel demons on the fly
Leaving an ephemeral hole in the sky
What now of this Modern Day Promised Land?
Dante's flames engulf countless bodies
Ashes fall to the ground in a snow of sorrow
That's tainted red with innocents blood
What now of this Modern Day Promised Land?
Mass exodus - East, West, North and South
Flocks flee their once promised Eden
Exiting before being banished
What now of this Modern Day Promised Land?
Destruction sews remnants of dreams into a quilt of regret
That will keep warm the survivors of tomorrow
Who remain behind to put this puzzle back together
What now of this Modern Day Promised Land?
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... JMF (c) ...