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Open Poetry #22
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backyard soldier
| Open Poetry #22 |
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backyard soldier |
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desperado Member
since 1999-05-24
Posts 312FT Hood,Tx 
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I remember the times of honeysuckle eves and summer memories where life was so much more complex and yet simpler as the sun was the only limiting factor in my day and my brothers the one true constant with my mother shouting out from the backporch sliding door a signal that it was time for a supper of pasta and bread and time to wash away the dirt that covered my hands I remember how I'd jump away from the plastic soldiers I played with swearing over and over again to return after dinner to play war for just a little longer in the dirt pit my dad had made yet for all those promises that I made I can't recall keeping one and it's funny how your life sometimes never seems to change how the main idea always stays the same but only the tiny details change I play soldier on a daily basis now, with guns and tanks and camoflage crazy sergeants, dumb commanders and leaders hiding in unlikely places the only real difference is now when a soldier dies, it's real I remember wrestling with my brothers in the backyard laughing as the summer sun pulls away our strength trying to remember how those things ever got started I remember the wars we fought with the neighborhood kids throwing rocks and swinging bats trying so hard to protect our territory of play never hurting anyone of course, cause it just wasn't cool but always trying to be smarter than the other kids and play with the most toys creating toys out of sticks and anything else playing with our mind more than our parents money I'm sure we were an odd bunch of kids growning up pretending to be pirates and soldiers and other daredevil people trying to live life to it's fullest with only our imagination to guide us all the while thinking of how fun it would be if only it were real how much I'd enjoy being free to roam through wild forests and steamy jungles to travel cross burning deserts and frozen mountain passes oh how it would be exotic to say the least yet even in this future, the past was so much better and the past was so much sweeter honeysuckles and summer fantasies played out inside my mind like a sweetend glass of lemonaide like no tongue could ever find I remember all those daydreams and smiles and even tears I remember how those seemed like now was a hundred million years and the memories will never be clearer people see the person you pretend to be most People demand freedom of speech to make up for the freedom of thought which they avoid. --Soren Kierkegaard |
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| © Copyright 2002 James Webster - All Rights Reserved | |||
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WhiteRose Member Elite
since 2002-07-23
Posts 3208somebody's dungeon |
This was an interesting read. Enjoyed. [This message has been edited by WhiteRose (08-27-2002 04:22 PM).] |
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the_loner_23 Member Ascendant
since 2002-06-08
Posts 5479Jacksonville, Florida, USA |
Very much enjoyed Cold hands means a warm heart |
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Marge Tindal 
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
HiDes~ You reminded me of some wonderfully vivid childhood memories~ Little girls played 'soldier' too ... and we wept, back when the tears were only make-believe~ 'even in this future, the past was so much better' Yes ....~ Good to see you, soldier~ *Hugs* ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
desperado, Like prose and poetry, a long song and a short melody, wisdom champing at the bit to race through, slowly. Mike |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
I enjoyed going down your memory lane with you. Love, Light & Laughter Linda |
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