The Trenches (World War II)

I stand here,
in the pouring rain,
been here so long now,
I fight to remember my name,

These cold,
damp conditions,
Make us numb,
to the bone,
Each one of us,
feels cold  and alone,
As we check,
our ammo and gun,

We are seven feet under,
but we can still see,
looking out for the enemy,
Through the barbed wire,
Mud and guts,
in plain sight,
With the explosions,
that light up the night,

We wrote letters,
to our loved ones,
Last week or so,
Saying My Darling,
How much I love you so,
will I be home,
I just don't know,
and please tell the kids,
How I miss them so,

When night time comes,
we go over you see,
To engage in attacks,
on the enemy,
Not many survive,
the final run,

The explosions of mines,
grenades and the Gatling gun,
But we follow our orders,
to the letter you see,
deserting no option,
for my friends and me,
Sot on site,
to make way for the brave,
It's 1939 and I think It's time,
The sergeants,
blow their whistles,
for us to cross the line,
Pushing us over,
for one last time,

Out of the trenches,
on to the mudded plain,
The explosions,
and gun fire,
again and again,
body parts and shrapnel,
are all that remain,

When I'm gone,
Will you remember my name,
With hurt,
sorrow,
For the children left behind,
or didn't know,

They gave their lives,
for peace you see,
So remember the fallen,
And the living too,
They fought this battle,
for me and you,

Although our hearts,
will be filled with sorrow,
They gave their lives,
In hope,
for a peaceful tomorrow.




Copyright © 2011 John Bevan

Poetry Of Dreams

My Book "The Sorrowed Mind Tomorrows Dream" is now available for $3.25 to download from Amazon.com
I hope you enjoy it, the book covers the trials and tribulations within life.
There are some personal pieces covering my feelings of love, hurt, sorrow and joy.
Along with some dark and light Fantasy/Gothic poems I have also entered.

Snow

The chill is in the air,
with a winter glow,
Frost bitten fingers,
As we rolled out the snow,

Our shoes were all wet,
from the slush puppy fair,
Toes burning red,
as we all played there,

The snow man just stands there,
with a grin on his face,
As they ran in to the house,
With a stinging red nose and face,

As we slide down the hill,
with plastic bags and bum,
Slipping and sliding,
total fun,

Fingers are numb,
Toes are to,
Itching and burning,
what can you do?
You sit by the fire,
trying to keep warm to,
Tending the bruises,
as you do.






Copyright © 2011 John Bevan

She's a Weeping Angel

Angel,
Angel,
When will you re-appear?

Angel,
Angel,
When will you save me from here?

All the love that's in my heart,
has now been torn apart,
Now I'm left here crying,

Angel,
Angel,
Please can you tell me why?

Angel,
Angel, 
Now I feel like I am dying,

All the dreams I've held inside,
have all withered,
Wilted,
Died,
Please can you come and open my eyes,

Angel,
Angel,
Your beautiful,
Please dry these tears that I cry,

Angel,
don't you weep,
My soul is your's to keep, 
Hold me close when you are near,

Angel, 
I still love you,
Each time I look in to the sky,
I wish you were here right by my side,

Angel, 
The love I have for you,
is deep inside,
And you are there,
each time I close my eyes,

Angel,
Angel,
How I wish you were near. 






Copyright © 2011 John Bevan

She's a Black Magic Woman

There's a dark cloud hanging over her,
As she walked away with tears in her eyes,
and a smile on her face,
She left him there bleeding,
with the words she'd cried,
And a toxic trace,

The black magic woman,

He secretly knew what was held inside of her,
Though he tried so hard,
to reveal what she had to hide,
Trying so hard to see behind the lies,

The black magic woman,

She never knew,
how much he felt for her,
Just what he would do,
to be by her side,
The days,
The weeks,
The months he tried,
To stand by her,
Though she threw him,
pushed him aside,

The black magic woman,

He sat there thinking,
of the things he's done,
The demons he'd slane,
and the heart,
he thought he'd won,
Now blown to pieces and just left there,
She no longer loved him,
and no longer cared,

 The black magic woman,

She was a man's temptation,
A yurning to caress,
Gave her body,
left a mess,
To the man who loved her,
with his heart he gave,
In the hope,
he'd capture her soul and save,

The black magic woman,

As she walked back to her grave.
His soul had been tortured,
his mind left insane,
Locked in a cage,
where he shall remain.




Copyright © 2011 John Bevan

Earth (inspired by Michael Jackson)

Never thought I'd see the day,
The poles are melting,
breaking away,

Winters been and gone,
just a drop of snow and rain,
Now summers on the way,

People are optimistic,
it's not the ozone,
A decade has gone,
and it's all Oh No!, 

Drought,
disease, 
Burning forests,
Falling trees,
has the ozone perished?

Flash floods,
Earthquakes,
Rising tides,
Children trapped,
families die,
From natures destruction,
No one asks why,

Polluted waters,
Polluted sky,
No more water in land,
The earths bone dry,
The natural worlds dying,
and no one cares,
Why?

The animals fade,
fade to extinction,
Rain forests die,
for the human creation,
Oxygen depletes,
for the cars on the streets. 




Copyright © 2011 John Bevan

Day Dream Believer

A young boy sits in the corner weeping,
He can't go to sleep,
from the dreams he keeps seeing,
Of the girl,
who walked out of his life, 


The letters that were read,
stay locked in his head,
In a safe that's been locked,
with the key in,


The words that were read,
were of heartache he said,
for the girl that he'd loved,
and been seeing,


She left him right there,
standing naked and bare,
As she turn around,
and left him,


He tried not to cry,
or wanting to die,
For the girl,
Who broke his heart,
and left him,


He felt empty inside, 
though trying to hide,
The torture,
The pain,
He was left in,


He met a young lady,
he called Darling,
Sweetheart,
Baby,
Who gave him new dreams,
to believe in,


Their pasts were a curse,
concealment and outbursts,
If only they did some confiding,
Maybe they'd last,
And their futures were cast,
With the dreams,
they'd both been dreamin'.




Copyright © 2011 John Bevan