Posted on 09/10/2004 7:18:09 AM PDT by mggandhi
Planet in Peril is the poet’s lament on the frantic stockpiling of nuclear weapons imperilling all life on this planet of ours. Unlike modern day Neros who are seen fluting with sadistic ecstasy when all-engulfing flames are threatening to turn this only habitat of ours into a burning inferno, the poet’s soul weeps in mournful numbers when he reflects over the impending disaster.
(Excerpt) Read more at gevf.exactpages.com ...
i thought that they were both trying to develop nuclear technologies and that they illegally tested their weapons in the 1990s. The tests served 2 purposes. Let them verify they worked and to announce to the world that they had them.
Heh, heh, heh...
India's first nuclear test was in 1974, 24 years before the 1998 tests.
Pakistan had nukes no later than 1990--Robert Gates (then Deputy Director of Central Intelligence) had the dubious honor of going to Islamabad and briefing Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto about the (small) nuclear arsenal her military had piled up without her knowledge.
Thanks for the information.
Viking Kitties Ride
lightning falling from the sky
troll has been zotted
Cat got your tongue?
Yes, I looked before I posted that. I didn't read all of that, though. I saw he flew the India flag and had a Ph.D .....And I didn't read all of that "War and Peace" article, either.
Did I do it again?
He is still alive, but still not replying as yet, btw .....
As the viking kitties take to thier post
It is them the Trolls fear this host
With Admin Mods prividing guide
the DU troll can't deny
that the VK ZOTs hurts the most.
"What if they gave a Love-In and nobody came?"
A bunch of folks going "Honest, this never happened before."
ZOT!
Ahhhh...brain...turning...to...mush...
I don't care how many billion of you live on that rancid cow-inflamed subcontinent; you won't conquer 2 blocks in Flatbush by shooting your children out of cannons.
"NEVER-HEALING WOUND
The cannon balls flew, with them my child too.
True to my grain, stoically I accept it.
But it leaves a wound that shall never heal, a void never to be filled though I conquer the world"
I hate to tell you this, but they don't use cannon balls anymore.
They use SHELLS that look remarkably like huge bullets to your eyes.
And they EXPLODE, they don't just go 'thud' and knock people about.
Oh, and artillery isn't out to conquer the world, just take it apart one fire mission at a time.
Narcissistic drama queen, ptui!
But, but, but what about limericks? FR has it's own poet. And an American poet at that.
Lots of poems on this thread. Here is a link to mine.
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1212044/posts?page=57#57
CATASTROPHIC FLOOD
One day, you will rue the dreadful deed when gloom shall overcast the sky yellow smog clamp the blackout.
Catastrophic floods inundate the green pastures and dales, turning orchards into desolate waste.
The chill blight of winter striking at the very root shall kill life in the womb, none there to hear even your lament.
Hey Yoko, line one was better when it was "yellow matter custard dripping from the dead dog's eye." Also, unless you're talking about some alien lifeform botany, I wasn't aware of gestation periods for trees in orchards, wherein they could be "killed in the womb". Lastly, make up your damn mind... flood or frost? Is it raining or snowing out? Hint: try the AccuWindow forecast. From the 30th floor. And lean way way out.
Truly poor stuff, even for you.
All your
Base Are
Belong to
Us
"planet of peril"???
sounds like the title of a 70's-era low-grade porn flick with delusions of artistry.
THE ACRID SMOKE
A non-violent nuclear-free world the chant of a battle-weary man, the dream of everyone.
The crusade for a war-free world will go on.
The enemy of man are they who mouth pleas for the bomb, trade in death, let loose the hounds, guillotine the sons of peace.
This acrid smoke chokes our throat, drowns our affection in the cacophony of bombs.
Actually, that is the acrid stench from your grave dug shallow, so that even the buzzards can taste your mediocrity and commit the final act of disdain on your tedious earthly tenure.
CANCEROUS WAR
A gnawing cancerous war eating up relentlessly every fibre, every cell, cutting the lifeline, blasting the whole.
Cities deserted, stench of the decomposed fouling the spring.
No more warm winds, no more splashes of colour, no more fields and pastures. No streak of vermilion in the smog-filled sky.
A nuclear blast, all-killing its sweep, turns earth into cinders singeing the very roots of life.
Poetry For Lazy Dummies, Chapter 1. To sound poetic, take a verb-noun conjugation, flip positions and hyphenate. E.G. "Killing all" is not nearly as poetic sounding as "all-killing." I would call this poem tripe, but tripe is edible if drowned in sufficient spice. This is hopeless sluice, verbal offal sloughing through some foetid corroded fence around your consciousness. Even insects grasp their mandibles and quickly scurry away from this ghastly spew.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.