In the beginning,
it was as if barren logs
were thrown together in heaps
for
decomposition
cautious steps
young
benumb
do you hear the bombs?
we are in belligerent land!
The Speaker is right
hazardous air hovers
stagnant
air is vacant
a perilous scent lingers
under
my nostrils
disorienting
direction
South twitches!! To the left!
Barren logs
are not!
They are
amputees!
Victims of explosive surgery,
nerves of Soldiers’ exposed;
an operating table…
God’s acre.
Soft, barren bodies
thrown together in heaps
for decomposition.
A few operative
bodies
are moved,
thrown together in heaps
for bandaging
sent home to their
wives
children
friends
with a perilous scent
still lingering
under their nostrils
disorienting
direction.
I cannot call this beautiful but it has a beauty it moves me to tears it makes my spine tingle.
I wrote a poem along similar lines http://willowdot21.wordpress.com/2011/10/03/war/
You are too good at this, Maggie Mae. You seem to feel the pangs of war….and you can make others feel it too. Maybe you can convince the ‘war planners’ to stop it…save the world’s boys
Powerful and compelling.
I love the multiple voices in the beginning. At least… that’s what I imagine you were going for, haha. They really yank you into the scene.
yeah…thats what I was going for 🙂 I was thinking nobody was going to catch that. I’m glad you did! Thanks for the comment!!
I think I once wrote a poem using multiple voices in a similar way. So maybe I’m just being narcissistic, haha. Still love your poem!
The castaways – Have you read ‘At Hells Gate’ by Claude Anshin Thomas?
I have not! Should I look for that one??
It is his story of him surviving Vietnam, coming home, not knowing what was wrong with him. He talks about our culture of violence, and how it was a Vietnamese monk – Thich Nhat Hanh – not the VA who helped him regain his grip on life. As he says everyone has their own Vietnam … If it’s not in your public library it should be …
oooh…I LOVE Thich Nhat Hanh…!! I will get that one. My dad was in Vietnam. I didn’t know him before he went. He came back all messed up, drug addicted, alcoholic. My family was homeless for awhile due to his drinking. He died young, when I was young, and he would never speak about Vietnam. I think this book might be a really great read for me to have some sort of possible insight. Thank you!
From what you say it is a must read. Claude Thomas came home the same way. My heart goes out to you and to him. Those who served in Nam came home to a nation divided. Check out Survivor’s Guilt on my blog I’ll send the link when I’m on my pc later.
I had images of the Blitz of London in my mind reading this, of seemingly dead piles of people erupting to life as someone who has lost a limb staggers suddenly upright.
That is what it looked like…almost as if I didn’t know if they might stand or not!
Your poetry is very humbling. It is beautiful, stark and rife with imagery that expresses every emotion through to the deepest, darkest trenches of the soul, and resonates there and beyond reverberating throughout my very being. Please don’t stop writing. It is a blessing.
Sincerely,
Alan
Vivid, dark, illuminating the insidious side effects of war resounding throughout our society at every level.
Well written and soul searing.
Why do we keep doing it? “When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?” as the old folk-song goes.
Thank you for reading my poem and this is the reply I posted on it to you ” War is so awful today, yesterday and tomorrow and we never learn. That is one of the reasons why I have chosen a Poetry challenge to write up a piece once a week ( every Sunday in fact) on a poem from the 30’s and 40’s war poets. I have learnt so may horrible and harrowing things I am stunned at man’s inhumanity to man. ” I just wanted to let you know how much there is to learn out there and how mad all this waring is. 🙂
The price of war so expressively protrayed in your words. Something we see all too often these days in the news.
BE ENCOURAGED! BE BLESSED!
That’s brilliant, vivid, compassionate and pretty true, as far as I can work out, to soldiers’ experiences, especially in a war of open killing grounds like the First World War. Two things stick in my memory from reading about the American Civil War – an account from a Union officer looking out at dawn over the ground in front of a position that had been fiercely attacked the afternoon before, and through the mist, seeing the vague ground apparently shifting as if in small waves – then realising this was dying men crawling. In the same book, a photo of amputated limbs after First Bull Run, the first big battle of that war – and noticing that one amputated foot had a plaster on one toe.
this is great tribute to the troops of usa and nato iam ex forces myself and this poem was so meaning full well done from kevin ex r.a.f
Excellent piece
Nick
anotnynbritt.com
This is absolutely lovely.