Thursday, July 28, 2011

Worst Things

    The holocaust and nagasaki
    vieatnam, chekoslovaki
    pearl harbour, madrid train station
    chenobyl soaking in radiation
    starvation, racial frustrations
    white australia the stolen generation
    generations of enslaved nations
    how long before we run out of patience?
Another song written by me,

    Reconcillation's a long way from a fact
    when everyone scared of the skin coloured black
    infact and I can't deny even I discriminate,
    but it's a feeling of fear; not a feeling of hate.

    Wait, don't judge me for these views
    it's not new and you can't say that its not true-
    when your on your way home, walking alone
    see a pack of Indigenous- think 'oh fuck I'm so alone'

    it's a natural fear and we're taught from birth
    it's paranoia; it's the white man's curse.
    It's our own fault though we gave 'em reason to hate
    committed genocide; just to take their place

    "terra nullius", what a convenient lie
    they taught it in our school and yet we wonder why
    when the Indigenous girls broke down and cried,
    we weren't taught the price in Indigenous lives.


    we weren't taught the price in Indigenous lives
    weren't taught the price in Indigenous lives
    terra nullius
    what a convenient lie.

    we weren't taught the price in Indigenous live
    what a convenient lie
    weren't taught the price in Indegenous lives

    *end hook*

    Even their language couldn't survive the genocide
    over 600 hundred dialects how many still alive?
    less than two hundred it was at the last count
    but no doubt the number is many less now

    In two thousand and eight k-rudd apologized
    but the shit I heard at work made it sound like lies
    "now they're going to want so much more",
    and "what the fuck are we sorry for",

    "we didn't do anything", "it's not our fault"-
    just listen to yourselves your still the ones at fault,
    alright, I'm white and I know I live a privileged life
    but I can see the difference between theirs and mine.

    terra nullius; no mans land,
    the real truth is it was Indigenous lands.
    The white man stole it and we won't give it back
    no wonder we so scared of the skin coloured black.
Another song verse

    Lookin up as the sun goes down,
    it's beautiful watching the world turn around
    day after day the sun rises and sets,
    puts life in perspective lest we forget

    its not about the worlds that we all invent
    our lives are just a thread in this endless mesh
    like rain drops, on a dried up land
    our stories add colour like shells in the sand

    and like the grains, the humans will change
    while the ocean and the beach stay just the same
    theres no point in drowning in your sorrows
    the sun will come up and shine again tommorow,

    and I know some of you can relate to that
    I seen you at the beach looking out at the flats
    you chuck on your headphones and don't give a fuck
    you let it slide like, it's water off a duck.
This is actually lyrics to a song I wrote, not so much a poem. Enjoy:

    Jessica Joss was born July ninety one
    but she never even made it to the age of twenty one
    now the whole families gathering under a tree
    it'd be nice if it weren't for the pain within me
    for the pain within the entire family
    just two weeks before your brother turned eighteen
    Can't believe his strength, I wish you could've seen
    how he held it all together for your mother my aunty

    I can't comprehend, this new reality-
    I swear a just few days ago you wrapped your arms around me,
    giving me comfort, when I was feeling down,
    you brought my smile back up from a frown,
    but that's now the last memory I'll ever have of you,
    I guess im kind of glad coz it reflect exactly who,
    you were, you are, you'll always be to me,
    my annoying little cousin; you were only nineteen.

    The day this little girl was taken from my world,
    it left a hole inside the whole of my entire world,
    it left a hole, yeah, inside my world,
    it left a hole inside the whole of my entire world.

    A little ray of sunshine is how she was born,
    and she still provides us with all kinds of warmth,
    even though shes gone, our memories remain,
    shining a bit of light through the worst kind of rain,
    still making us laugh and alleviating pain,
    still making us smile until the clouds come again,
    because even though were strong this is too much to take,
    no human being could ever lift this kind of weight.

    but wait, this doesn't mean we're giving up,
    we will always be here for your brother and your mum,
    we will always be here, like you were for us,
    and never will I ever take for granted the ones I love,
    I've got to say Jess, you brought out the best,
    in your family and friends, in every one of them,
    and every one of your family, and every one of your friends,
    hopes the biggest hug of their lives will be awaiting at the end.

RIP Jessica Rose Joss <3

Sunday, November 08, 2009

There's a rush,
a sturggle,
a fight with time.

There's a wind,
a bustle,
a war with time.

There's a sea,
an ocean,
a world with time.

There's a life,
a spirit,
opressed by time.

Friday, July 31, 2009

The wind was whining
The sky was crying
Tears fell down on the city
Winter has brought him again.

I looked into the face
Examine these eyes
Wander my sight
Trying to read emotions behind

I looked for wrinkles
If they were on forehead
If anger drew them
Or hard times

Tried to trace yet another wrinkle
Around the lips
On the cheeks
To trace a memory of smile

Cold emotionless face
Looking me in the eye
With indifference stare
And a "whatever" lie

Bored rude attitude
Telling unspoken words
"Stand still, you can't run
As much as you cannot hide"

Sunday, July 05, 2009

a glass,
half full

or a glass,
half empty?

this wine,
so sweet

is a drink,
so tempting

a day,
so dark,

makes a drink,
more tempting

a night,
so bright

a drink,
still tempting

a life,
so empty

makes a drink,
most tempting

a life,
so full

a drink,
less tempting

so is your glass,
half full

or is your life,
half empty?

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Rainy Day

Little drops,
Fill the air,
Falling, falling,
upon her hair.

Little drops,
Land on her skin,
Falling, falling,
upon her shin.

Wet little drops,
kiss her ear,
Whispering, whispering,
"What do you hear?"

Sparkly drops,
Sing her a song,
Laughing, Laughing,
As she dances along.

Bigger drops,
Begin to fall,
Falling, falling,
Upon her doll.

Banging thunder,
Gives her a scare,
Running, running,
Into her lair.

Rays of sunlight,
Begin to peak,
Nudging nudging,
So she will speak.

Rainbow colors,
Put on a show,
Smiling, smiling,
her face does glow.

Night time comes,
and it's back inside.
sleeping, sleeping,
upon her side.

Deafening bombs,
make her rise,
staring, staring,
in Mother's blank eyes.

Lonely child,
She dares not smile,
as she watches the soldiers-
march single file.

Beautiful child,
Orphaned today,
Lonely, lonely,
on this rainy day.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

I woke up today; the world is still the same
I thought the sun was shining but it was just a flame
The country was burning. Everything was falling apart
I tried to be brave. I tried to save some parts

Doors were falling down
Walls were smeared with black
Souvenirs eaten by fire

Feeling helpless, I cling to help
Feeling clueless, I cling to hope
With all the chaos… with all the mess
I can’t believe it’s our lives, it’s a mess
It must be a bad dream, I want to scream
Wake me up before this nightmare ends
The fire just keeps burning as it eats up my home
I’m on the ground, I can’t move, I’m numb

Sunday, April 12, 2009

On a land that seems arid
Under a blue sky
She stands... meditates
Branches burdened
With yellow grief
This Autumn did not take them away.

Still here
As she was yesterday
Stubborn... Waiting...
May come winter
May rain falls
To wash down leaves that did not fall

A new tomorrow
A bird twitters
She wakes up... smiling
Same old branches
Burdened with troubles
But hope looms on the horizon

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

What is Adam without Eve?
A new year with no eve.

He's a star with no light,
A day with no night;

A groom with no bride.
A prince with no pride.

He fights to get her;
And pretend to neglect her.

He's a child with no mother;
Romeo with no lover.

He's a king with no kingdom.
An old man with no wisdom.

He's a fish out of water.
A court with no order.

He's a solder without a sword.
A poem without a word.

That's Man without Woman.
8th. Sep, 2005

Sunday, March 01, 2009

Restless Nights are knocking my doors
Begging to share the last five minutes
Pouring questions and doubts
Confronting with delusions

I hide
I pretend
Under blankets I descend
Escaping the answers
Which I already know

I've been smashed into a thousand tear
Nothing new for I walked that road before
It hurts… causes pain
Even though not the same
This time I asked for it

I saw rays of light unsure if they were true
They could be reflection that I read upside-down
Trying to reason everything
Trying to make sense of it
All in vain
I know it's not a lie
It's history of a heart
That nobody denies

I look away
Raise my hands to pray
To hold on… on this way
To wake up for a better day

Monday, January 26, 2009

Forgive me I'm not there
Forgive me for the miles between us
Maybe it's hard to show how much I care
But that shouldn't be a problem for us.

Forgive me I cried
Those tears never meant for you to see
They were the raindrops I hide in pride
Not to play with your emotions to pity me.

Forgive my silliness
I just meant to make you smile
Let me hear your laughter in happiness
Forget everything and relax for a while.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Grandma said: bring them after schools
I wish to see the sweet little ones.
Assured her once and twice she would
But somehow promises were never kept.

Black clouds arising in the air
As bombs invades the village
Gaza was never the same
Watching news is how we spent the day

Innocent kids horrified at schools,
Mother panicking looking for the children
Father never made it home
That's how they spent their day

Lunch turning to coals on the stove
Broken china shattered on the ground
Meals never served on tables
And that's how they spent their day

Pray for Gaza

Sunday, November 23, 2008

It so mean and evil of you
To ask me how much I love you.
How can I tell how much I love you
When all I feel is love.

How can I measure my love
When it's the air I breathe.
A love that gets bigger and bigger
With every single heartbeat

It's so romantic, yet tragic
if you don't know how I feel.
For we made it clear, yes my dear
To remain silent and that's our Deal!

Wednesday, June 11, 2008


When opened doors exist no more
When hope inspire no longer
When you know you're in denial
Still you wait for the light at the end of the tunnel
and you keep on waiting...

When cold wind freezes the planet
The faraway sun fail to warm hearts
When waterspout never wash away tears
Still we wait for a summer breeze
and we keep on waiting...

When truth turns to be lies
Friends are vanished into foes
When black and white become gray
Still I wait for the haze to decay
And I keep on waiting...

Keep on waiting for a miracle to pass my way
Keep on waiting for a smile to make up my day
Only to realize I'm waiting for me!

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

He wandered high and wandered low,
but could not find which way to go.

He could not find his dream, his destination;
so he filled his life with others' frustration.

He tried so hard to make them pleased
and none around would pay him heed-

Until upon some fateful day,
when thing began to go his way;
and everyone could see and hear
and surely he became their peer.

When everyone learnt truth at last:

A better person a man may be
for choosing the struggle of those not free;
For choosing the fight he needn't know,
and helping those left all alone.

Monday, December 31, 2007

One thing has stayed the same
despite all the years of constant change;
there's a constant dream of love from you
and a touch so real from me to you.

Nothing erotic just comfort and love
you my angel from above-
I had to let you go;
oh so long ago.

It's over now but in dream exists.

No life together nor perfect bliss,
no dream of a loving kiss-
just moments stolen
for me and you.

To see each other again some time,
to share those feelings
yours and mine.

A simple smile;
a loving touch.

Am I really asking much?

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The Mouth of Abyss

Rebellious words escape my pen
Refusing to be imprisoned on paper.
Asking me to wage a war
Against stupidity and failure.
There’s no place left for sanity
There’s no place for peace.
Time is eating up our minds
Persuading us to watch in silence.
If it’s not the blood we see in the street
Then for the cry of a child.
The sky is gloomy and sad
Exhaust its tears for Baghdad.
The poet is left without a word
The painter is left without a brush
The sweet butterflies have no meadows
Nothing left for beauty
Nothing left but sorrow.
Death has marched into the cities.
Plague has roamed the earth.
Nothing left for wisdom
Reason has kissed us goodbye.

You asked me “Is there a way to help?”
I told you “Can the Helpless offer help?”
You’re already paralyzed by fear,
Or is the hunger?
O Time, o Arms of Hours
Release us from your Canines
And let us be.
Save me time to go back to Baghdad
To go back to the gardens of Babylon
Just to have another look on Malweya
To swim once again in Tigris and Euphrates.
Save us time to enjoy Nawrooz
To fly back in time to the Scientists of Mustansiria.
Release us from the chains
Release us from the rope.

Dangled with the rope of misery
Over the mouth of Abyss.
The Darkness of the night has filled my heart with fear
Where to escape and where to go?
Shall I say goodbye like the millions
Shall I say goodbye and leave for the unknown
What about the heritage of the nation
Who will defend the Zaqurat?
It’s the sounds of Minarets…
The bells of Schools…
They are all calling me
Hanging on to me.
I hear them say “Don’t leave”
O Time, o deceitful Hours
Have you no shame, have you no honor?
This is where the First Letter was written
This is where the First Law was written
This is where Men invented the Wheel
This is where Women were first honored.
O The Cradle of Civilizations
You have become the grave of civilizations.

2007-09-05 1:30

Monday, July 23, 2007

World of Mine

Can I have a world of mine?
Where no one to disturb my peace of mind.
To go on with my thoughts and reach the line
Where that world of living and the dreams bind.
Having my own sphere I would think
How can I make it perfect with no defect?
I would make it like Plato's Utopia
To enjoy sonnets, music and philosophy
And all the legends of prophets and queens.
But hold on a minute, with whom would I share it?
In this time, these are no one's interest.
So let me go back to the real world and stick
To the silly things that everybody would pick.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

A piece of the puzzle.

A life full of promises,
That I must struggle to keep;
A heart full of hope,
And eyes that weep.

I’m left here not thinking,
And I’m feeling your pain;
And wondering how on earth,
You’re not completely insane.

Wondering where I fit, in this big puzzle;
Wondering how I’ll ever, be a piece of this puzzle.

I’m left seeing nothing,
And it’s startlingly clear;
A blank slate to start with
Is it ever coming near?

When someday the time,
Dawns for us to unite;
To meet one another,
And band together in flight?

And then on that day,
a missing piece joins the puzzle-
and then on that day will I be a piece of the puzzle?

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Years have passed.
Time has changed.

Nothing ever stays the same.

No "same old" politics.
No "same old" news.

These new technologies
bring differing views.

Nothing ever stays the same,
but nothing ever really changed.

But now it's time for us to choose;
new technologies, differing views
Ideology or truth...

Whats in your news?

Luke(y) Skinner 1/5/07

Saturday, April 14, 2007

There was a city
Its people danced in fear
But still they danced
There was a judge
A cruel one he was
Ruled with disdain
A black cloud came someday
Showered the city with bullets
The people lived on… in pain

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Sometime's the hardest times in life,
are the most simple of choices;

I have my house, a roof and life.
I have my girl, near enough my wife.
I have a heater, water and food.
I have my happiness, no need to brood.

There's nothing in life of which to complain,
yet study and work drives me insane.

I'm sick to my ears of this boring crap;
and walking around like a useless sap.


When will I get MY chance to shine,
to use this knowledge that's surely mine???

When will I get the chance to show,
all of the things about which I know?

When will I get the chance to be,
a little more...

A little more like me...

By Luke(y) Skinner 13/4/06

Monday, March 26, 2007

A poets arm should not be twisted,
and a hand should not be forced.
A poets intrigue can't be won,
his love can not be baught.

A poets smile is genuine,
his love always sincere.

A poets depression,
a real obsession,
it's enough-

don't walk away.

Luke(y) Skinner
(The Kid)

Dashing out in to the streets,
to claim this life he calls his own.
He finds himself talking to friends,
reminding himself he's not alone.

His coffee cup, some clothes,
his paper and pen.

nothing left but to start again.

Luke(y) Skinner


Thursday, March 15, 2007

Away… We Stay

Where do you want to take me?
I've been there before.
Why do you insist on that?
It would never work for sure.

I still the same old me.
Time has never changed.
I should not go; it's not right.
Believe me I shall take my seat.

He would tell me "I'm yours".
But he'll control me like a doll.
He would treat me kind 'n' gentle
But he'd bid me not to be me.

"Don't go east. Don't go west
I'm your man. I'm your rest.
This is too revealing. Cover your shoulder.
This is too short. It's a hideous neck.
Too much make up. Big glasses
Your face looks like a clown.
Stop pretending you're strong.
Follow your desire and be destroyed".

I would pretend I don't care.
I would wear my mask of power and play my role.
There I'll keep saying I did this, I did that.
Between the "I"s I say I would never look in the eyes.
One look of them and the show is gone.
On this stage I direct the dolls until the curtain falls.
Concealing my tears with my disguise I pray…
Pray not to look to the eyes.
In my charades I carry my shrouds on my hand.
Waiting for the looks from the eyes which makes me add more "I"s
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I was jesting…"

If you want to take me somewhere,
Let it be to the future.
There I would know at least
Where I lie at last and sleep.
Or let it be a place of imaginations and dreams
Where merely hymns and lullabies are heard
Just to worship God and then to sleep
Never to be troubled by mortals' speeches
We shall wait for our rest in peace.

So let's go back, you and me, to live alone.
To be ourselves and nothing more.
Away from eyes and out of sights we stay
To live happily ever after in May.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

I’m the invisible girl living next door
I'm the invisible girl drinking coffee alone across the street
I'm the invisible girl studying alone in the library
I'm the invisible girl singing in the shower
The one who always walks on the sideway
They say she never came here
She never lived here
I'm the one pouring tears at night
Smothering the sobs with a pillow tight
I'm the one doing everything right
But no one ever noticed that
They never see me, never hear me
They never know me, never cared
I party with imaginary friends
Where I'm the mistress of laughs and dance
I’m the one living a thousands lives, inside my mind
No one heard my thoughts,
No one cared for my believes
No one knew my phone number;
No one knows where I live.
Don't want to be a shadow in the street any more

Monday, February 19, 2007

This is my edit of a new Attawie Poem :)
She will be here and posting VERY soon :)

here's my edit, her finished original will come later!!!

I'm afraid to switch off the light,
Afraid to stay alone at night.
Sitting lonely in my cold bed,
Crazy thoughts reign in my head.

Trying so hard but struggling to sleep,
Remembering the promises
you just couldn't keep..

Trying to move on,
telling myself those days are gone;
and they say that life goes on,
But to them I say:
"not when you're still holding on" ..

Life is harsh when you're alone,
Trying to make it on your own;
looking back at scars,
that time can not heal;
brings back memories,
and the pain I feel.

Aimlessly I wonder here and there,
Searching for someone who might truely care .

Let it go, let me be;
I'm not who I used to be.
Move alone, carry on;
it's not the way it used to be,

but that's the way it's meant to be..

By Attawie Feb, 8th 2007. 2:20 AM
Edited by Luke(y) Skinner 19/02/07 8:45pm

This is not quite poetry, but it could be soon enough:

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Internal Burning

An endless fire burns inside of me,
so dominant;
so bright;
hotter than hot, magnificent and clear.

But that fire contained inside my heart,
it's not just love;
it's not just lust;
In fact it's not just anything of any sort.

My inspiration to acceptance- to disallow domination,
it's nothing like greed;
it's nothing like anger;
Burning stronger and stronger I cannot deny.

To this fire I must succumb,
and I will follow;
and I will stumble;
trudging through the dark and seeking it's direction.

The indominable desire for me to help,
to protect those;
to serve those;
To save those who cannot do so themselves.

That light is still there somewhere,
though shrouded in black;
and drowned in tears;
Like a passing moment amongst a million years.

But I have found it.
Can you find yours?

Monday, November 13, 2006

Love is the message in my life,
Over-toning everything.
Very strong emotions pouring,
Extracting the love within.

People watch us dance around,
Out in the open playfully. But
Even then they cannot see,
My love's true depth for thee.

Written by Luke(y) Skinner 14/11/06
Afraid of feelings that I have,
which conflict with my life.
Afraid for those persons whom,
could never cause me strife.

Strange to feel this way because,
somehow I know i'll never;
be requieted for this love,
nor feel this love for ever.

I feel the fear that one day soon,
something so bad could happen;
and then this love left unrequited
could be gone for ever.

by Luke(y) Skinner 14/11/06

Monday, September 18, 2006

A poem (For Georgia)

I could write for you a poem,
atleast once a week;or even twice a day.
But would their really be a point;
if it didn't feel what I meant to say.

And so instead I wait for times,
when inspiration and love entwine,
and then I write for you a poem,
which cuts short, but stops to say:

I'll love you till the bitter end,
and even on that rainy day...

Written by Luke(y) Skinner 17/9/06
Dedicated to Georgia Almond.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Floating Away

Times alone are too many,
friend used to be a plenty;
untill they went away.

Visits not tears,
friendships not fears;
but that, it's not today.

So now I sit alone right hear,
my sleeve filled with tears;
and no-one comes to stay.

So few, so far between,
my friendships-
and the friends i've seen.

So I sit here alone,
atleast once each day,
working on things,
emotions kept at bay.

Just watching my life,
as it floats away.

Written by Luke(y) Skinner
Lest We Forget (2003)

Lest we forget the ones who died;
the ones whose lives were lost in pride.
They gave their lives for you and me,
each one believing we would be free.

In those I have the greatest pride.
Faced with death they did not hide.
To bring us peace they had to die
They fought for us.

For you and I.

Luke(y) Skinner (April 2003)
last edited 1/9/06

Wednesday, August 30, 2006


Once more,
- confusion -
it takes control.

It take me r e a l slow.
it creeps up from within;
each time I see her face.

She is that person.
She; the one who confuses me.
Who stirs with my emotions..

She plays with my heart,
and yet pain not,
would she inflict.

Love, she does bring,
mixing with her love;
it's like a poison..

and confusion comes

Written by Luke(y) Skinner,
created November 2002, last edited 30/8/06.

Monday, August 14, 2006


My hearts been broken
beaten; twisted and chewed.
Spat out and rejected,
its painfull; its rude.

Down the path,
around the road;
across the never ending feild.

Follow the the path
which leads to pain.
Cross that pain,
which follows love;
which thrills; enlightens, relieves.

On to the fire of the everpresent
to the depths of emotion,
to pain and memory.

So many the paths have lead,
So maany soccumbed to,
defeated by,

by that one girl.

Thrown around and thrashed,
dropped down and defeated;
in her eyes you saw love.

Written by Luke(y) Skinner early 2003
last edited 15/8/06
(Survival; not perfection)

The statements of fear
the thoughts and pains.
The tears they are crying
their fists in the rain.

The waters above houses
it's the tides of change.

The smell of rotten bodies
their fall, their reign.

People are fighting
but not dealing pain.
Inspiring and climbing
towards peace again.

Donations and volunteers
all kinds of the same.

Reporters reporting
and people are moving.
Revolutions beginning
with a flood and a drain.

Clothing and shelter
candles and protection.
It's just survival;
not quite perfection.

Dedicated to the victims of Hurricane Katrina.
Written by Luke(y) Skinner 05 shortly after Katrina,
last edited 15/8/06

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Less & More

There is east, there is west.
There is rich, there is poor.

There are nations, there are races;
yet there is so much more.

There is hunger, there is food,
there is greed; while at war.

There are mansions, there are huts,
there are boots; but feet are sore.

There is water, while there’s thirst,
yet no bottles for the poor.

There are people below poverty-
with no shelter from the war.

How long do you really think
that they can take this for?

By Luke(y) Skinner 5/4/06,
last edited 10/8/06
Those Things

Unfortunatly there are those things,
of which I will not speak.
They slow my life but give me more,
and prove I am not weak.

There's some things you can never see
they once fuelled the bad in me;
But sometimes I think they are the key,
to why my efforts ended successfully.

The biggest problem; yet also productive.
It made my world spin round.
It forced changes with in my life,
but it kept me on the ground.

It excluded me from competitions;
not yet sick of the heart break.
Now the problem with this poem is
I had no point to make.

By Luke(y) Skinner sometime 2002/03
last edited 9/8/06

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

A Fly on the wall

There’s a boom!
There’s a smash.
The man falls.

There is glass.
There is screaming.
The man bleeds.

There was TV.
There was couch.
The man cries.

There was son.
There was daughter.
Both died.

TV playing,
in the front room.
The front window,
the mans wife.

Their children.
A bomb.
The glass window.
The man’s life.

By [olivebranch]
(inspired by riverbend)

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

(Abu Ghraib)

The girl walks out rejected;
and sits across a sandbag,
her hand is in her hair.

With a tear in her eye she screams:
"Notorious desert prison!
why must you reject me so?"

Another man begins his yelling,
"MY flesh and blood!
yet still I could not go!"

A group begins to gather,
Outside the gates and doors.

Greiving their innocent relatives,
and screaming out united calls:

"oh notorious Abu Ghraib,
must it be written on the wall?"

Dedicated to Chikitita
by luke(y) Skinner 21/04/06 (edited 27/06/06)

Monday, June 26, 2006

The Terrorist (The Nun)

A blank face with a black veil;
a terrorist nun.

Stopped by security,
and now she’s screaming:

“I’m no Muslim son!”

“Sorry my dear, I must still search you-”
The man replies in time.

“Whether Christian, Muslim, Hindu or Jew;
religions have extremists.

So why should anyone ever trust you?”

“You can’t”- the nun replies,
her teeth gleaming in a wicked smile:

“God awaits me at the gates,
and I shall walk within!”

Pulling back her habit,
her plan exposed-
and she runs on screaming:


A shot to the head ends her life,
the number of injured- nine,
the number of dead is eight.

by Luke(y) Skinner,
last edited 27/06/06

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

The Final Dance

A decision you've reached this time it's true,
the world's upside down and feeling quite blue;
But frowns can swing and the air smells' nice
everything could change,
with but one roll of the dice.

Intellectuals debate it- the state our world is in,
But to fix it all just throw greed in the bin.

Smile to one another, rejoyce in the loves we share;
remember family, friends and all those who care.
Else waste your life, fill it with hatred and greed,
but to whome will you turn, when you are in need?

Unity allowed us to help one another,
but your choices divide us all.

Your time draws near- this is your chance:
the worker or the devil; with whome shall you dance?

By Luke(y) Skinner in 2003, edited 22/6/06
dedicated to politicians across the globe; particularly in Iraq.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

The Gate 17/12/03 (edited 19/6/06)

Oh so good to feel complete
so great to know that life is sweet;
To burn a candle and watch its' light.
To run down a highway and then take flight.

I've stepped away from where I live,
and now I know I've much to give.
The world is like one huge sports field,
team-work and friendship; the force you yield.

To save this place from its' fate,
we fight this war against all hate.
Look to the skies then you will see,
open your eyes friends are your key.

The key you need at heavens gate,
so right your wrongs; its not to late.
So remind somebody they are your mate,
so fight this war, against the hate.

Go do it now no need to wait.!!!

By Luke(y) Skinner

Thursday, June 08, 2006

I need you now more than ever.
This poem is not a riddle
it's just clever.

To make you happy;
my whole life I will endevour.
Because I never...

want to hear you say goodbye.

by Luke(y) Skinner 8/6/06
4 Georgia Almond

Sunday, May 21, 2006

Martyr #121.

A man sits behind a bar,
strumming his fingers;
in order.

Thinking of the past,
strumming his fingers;
he orders.

One beer goes down,
he prays for his sins;
and orders.

Two beers now empty,
he stands up straight;
and thinks.

His money on the table,
his pains concealed;
he stumbles.

Into the darkness,
un-armed and alone;
he walks.

Judgement then comes,
a gun to his head
he screams.

Tied up and taken,
beaten not broken;
he dies.

His name was Omar.
The papers call him
number 121.

By Luke(y) Skinner 16/5/06

Monday, May 15, 2006

‘Behind the bar’

He sits behind a bar,
strumming his fingers;
in order.

Thinking of times past,
strumming his fingers;
he orders.

One beer goes down,
he strums his fingers;
and orders.

Two beers now empty,
he strums his fingers;
and thinks.

Third beer on the way;
he stands up straight,
and leaves.

Money left on the table,
pains from every hair;
he stumbles.

On through the dark,
upon pins and needles;
He bleeds.

His wounds concealed,
from judgmental eyes;
He dies.

by Luke(y) Skinner 16/5/06

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Across the Road

Carrying her books in tiny hands,
counting the steps back home from school;
her pigtailed hair swings as she moves.

She remembers the advice her mother gave:
"Look left and right before you cross".
She never forgets her father's words:
"No talking to strangers out on the road!"

She walks up to kittens down the street,
and begs her friends not to pebble one.
Singing about being smart and strong;
those songs she learned at school.

“Look left and right before I cross!
No talking to strangers out on the road!”

Her school was just a few blocks away,
the neighbourhood was calm; in a way.
The eyes of mothers peered a lot-
from windows and fences or attics.

They make sure their children come back.
Those children walk like floating angels;
spreading joy down every avenue:

It’s in the way walk.

Looking left and right before they cross,
not talking to strangers out on the road.

- BANG -

The tremendous sound pounds…

Scattering books from tiny hands,
they run to each other in panic;
seeking comfort and consolation.

They all walked upon the street;
and she alone on the sidewalk.

She thought she would be safer there;
alas, it was her end. Nothing had helped:

Not Looking left and right before she crossed,
nor not talking to strangers upon the road.

She had thought she would be safer there…

But only bloodied books had made it home,
and the ribbon which had tied her hair…

Her mother had seen the disaster from her roof,
but couldn't have helped her infant.

She walked so peacefully around the world-
not expecting a bomb just down the road.

She went mad for her child.

She disregarded all she knew.

Was it fate or some mistake?

Deprived of her six-year old child,
she had tried to protect her baby girl…

-but nothing had helped.

Not looking left and right before she crossed
Nor not talking to strangers out on the road.

She had thought she would be safe.

April 28, 2006 by Attawie,

edited by [olivebranch] 7/5/06