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Open Poetry #37
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Howling Commando
| Open Poetry #37 |
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Howling Commando |
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XOx Uriah xOX Senior Member
since 2006-02-11
Posts 1403Virginia 
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Ricky is just one in an assortment of nuts that make up my bizarre carnival of friends. Hillbillies Heads Bards Bikers Theologians and Transgenders Priest and Prostitutes Rabbis and Rogues Monks and Maniacs. He is bright and bitter with an affinity for numbness. Conversation comes easy amid the clutter within his mobile home "War Museum" Weapons and instruments of death, that most cannot imagine the minds of men creating, displayed upon every section of wall, in every corner, nook and cranny. So many dark and disturbing items. lead to many morbid dialogues. There is a strange sense of peace that comes over him as he sits surrounded by gruesome souvenirs of man's cruelty and depravity. We pass the bota bag back and forth The wine always loosens his tongue. He was... At one time... A young boy who laid upon his bed dreaming of heroic acts alongside his comic book heroes. Sgt. Rock and Easy Company Sgt. Fury and the Howling Commandos Captain America and Bucky Barnes. The young boy and the dreams of heroism died in the jungles of Vietnam. He is... At this time... A shell of a man wrapped in a shroud of nightmares. Daymares. Somehow... The demons that dance in his mind are exorcised by the artifacts of atrocities that decorate his home. Seeing them constantly, to the point that they have become easily ignored, has helped him deal with the horrors that were non-stop seen in his head. Right or wrong Good or bad He has learned how to cope. I drink deep from the wine and pass the bota back to him, as he puts on the executioners demon faced mask that came from somewhere in Indonesia. He stares through the carved out eyes and says, "Can you imagine the things that have been seen through these eye holes?" I cannot imagine even after he removes the mask and I look at his naked eyes haunting and haunted I cannot imagine. Sun light is fading and I reach over and inside the lampshade of skin, with the tattoo still visible, to add another forty watts of eeriness to the mementos of the macabre. Sometimes... As I sit here with Ricky... I also feel a strange sense of calm come over me. He passes the wine bag back to me. Another souvenir from Vietnam. Made from a womans breast. He walks over to his stereo and delicately places the vinyl disc onto the turntable. Three Dog Night LIAR He sings along Screaming ! LIAR LIAR Howling ! The wine is good. The buzz is wonderful. |
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| © Copyright 2006 Larry F. Leake - All Rights Reserved | |||
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
An extradinary piece of free verse here, Uriah! The horrors of war and how one copes...you really did a great job of painting this picture. *hugs*......jo |
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StevenS Senior Member
since 2005-09-21
Posts 945L. A. (Lower Alabama) |
Uriah this is an awesome piece of writing!!! I'm still picking up my chin! Awesome, Awesome, Awesome! |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
While StephenS is picking up his chin, I'm like sitting here, touching the screen... this was "a phenomenal wright and read"  |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
Uriah, There are very few that will talk of these things and you have done it well, but it gave me a real bad stir that will stay with me the rest of the day and I fear all of the night. I think I'd like a sip of that wine. LOL |
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