Poetry from a non-Poet

On occassion I’ve tried my hand at poetry. Usually it’s daft little poems, often with humour. But I had a go at some real stuff and by had a go, I mean it happened by accident while I was tired. Here’s two poems called Man of War and A Knife in the Heart.


Forgotten is the bloodstrewn path at my back,
The carnage of war, battles fought at my command,
A thousand lives laid down at a whim.

I am the juggernaut, always moving forward,
I will not stop, I cannot stop and face my choices,
To look back would be insanity.

The time of remembrance comes at the end,
There is no forward, I must look back and weep,
Tears of blood fall,
For in the oblivion I see only my reflection,
And I am smiling.




We were all condemned together,

Our fates intertwined,

They stood beside me,

Dead but still breathing.

They didn’t know it yet,

Were not aware,

That I had already,

Put blades through their hearts.


Neither was I then,

I was too focused,

On the blade in my own heart,

Wondering when death

Would finally claim me


How could I have known,

That they would so willingly

Give their lives,

That I might live a little. Longer?


I often wonder,

If they would still be here,

Had I confessed to the blade,

That sunk deep in my heart.

My touch is deadly poison,

None are safe from it.

Friends, enemies, lovers.

They all succumb in the end.

All dying in place,

Of the long-since condemned.

Such a great waste;

Such a terrible pity.

~ by Jess Wiles on September 13, 2011.

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