Fishing With Grenades (in memoriam)

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icebox
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 4383
in the shadows

0 posted 2013-05-26 01:02 PM

We started out as boys of prey
believing what we'd learned,
some not even twenty
mostly poor with nothing earned,
others born to plenty
from worlds I wished I never knew;
obscenities the common glue
that held our worlds together
as we'd learned to stay alive.

We hated everything about the place,
boots,
food,
mud,
crud that stuck eyelids together,
weather,
newsies, amateurish boorish fools
buffoons with cameras,
tape recorder spools, whiskey up the ass,
white skin round eyed nurses only sleeping with the brass.

I had it easy
making ends meet on common ground
in the jungle with the bloods,
they hated all the snowflakes
but I hated everyone,
we started young and frightened
using ordnance like toys;
some were bagged up early flying home to flowers,
the lucky ones were tagged;
all were bits and pieces
returned to tears and empty joys.

The rest of us stopped being boys
a tour or two ago,
tucked our fears into our dreams and didn't really sleep.
Nightmares came like boom-boom girls
loud with lots of flash.
I grew to be something else between human and a man
lost the fear of dying on a blood trail in the bush
later I replaced it with fear of going home;
even that got washed away until where I was
was all I'd ever known.

We learned it don't mean nothin'
to get by the best you can,
watch the ghosts come at you
and sometimes let them pass,
check the tracer colors
red could be OK
but green means someone's zeroed on your ass.

I don't make friends;
they always die and I hate them when they do.
Pass the shotgun here my man
we're back alive again;
play the music loud and clear
I might even hear it above the ringing in my ears.
Anybody hungry?
Put a good edge on your blades.
Wake up Doc and build a fire
I feel like fishing with grenades.

©2003, 2009, 2013 by icebox

ebonygirl
Member Elite

since 2011-07-14

Posts 2000
California U.S.A

1 posted 2013-05-26 01:35 PM

Powerful poem!
Here is the reality of war. It's not a game!
The impact of this poem, the smells, sounds,
visuals, was a visceral experience. No wonder
my uncle Joe never again slepted soundly, after
returning from Nam.

Thank you, Ice,
and to all,
who gave of themselves,
that we may live in peace.
E

Margherita
Member Seraphic

since 2003-02-08

Posts 22236
Eternity

2 posted 2013-05-26 03:53 PM

quote:
The rest of us stopped being boys
a tour or two ago,
tucked our fears into our dreams and didn't really sleep.

I have hardly the guts to absorb this incredibly impressive poem. Dear Charlie, such a cruel world you have known and you write about that tremendous experience like no one. Not losing one's mind seems already a miracle.

May there be awakening to peace and love.

Margherita

Marchmadness
Member Rara Avis

since 2007-09-16

Posts 9271
So. El Monte, California

3 posted 2013-05-26 10:50 PM

So sad that this "reality" replaced what should have been the joyful youth of so many. I knew some who came home (if you want to call it that) and so many who didn't.
Ida

Balladeer

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-05

Posts 25505
Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA

4 posted 2013-05-27 12:02 PM

This is a masterpiece to the knowing eye....I salute you, sir.

Lighthousebob
Member Elite

since 2000-06-14

Posts 4725
California

5 posted 2013-05-29 02:41 PM

Enjoyed your "In Memoriam." Very Nice! and, also, a very realistic flow and progression of events you've shared here... WoW! leading right up to the Grenades and all, and, hell yeah, toss a few in! Ha! Hey, sorry I'm late, but, anyways, Happy Belated! Hope you had a Great Memorial Day with Grenades and Everything Else!

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