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Open Poetry #25
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It Was The War To End All War
| Open Poetry #25 |
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It Was The War To End All War |
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RSWells Member Elite
since 2001-06-17
Posts 2533
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 Cave, Cave, Deus Videt (Beware, Beware, God Sees Thee) . . . Crude those canyons scratched by fear and hate where hope abandoned young men to their fate whose blood erodes wee rivulets through the trench as minds implode from lack of sleep and stench From factory and field the bugles called to don the sword and shield pure youth enthralled, lured by adventure, travel, coaxed by thrill, who once indentured would be dressed to kill But soon the merry bands daydreams were shattered, where once were farmers lands the dead lay scattered, too soon to learn in war what life is worth, too soon returned to meld a hungry earth Stay low lest swarms of bullets sting as bees or winds transform the air to gaseous breeze, two to a match the snipers site by three, entrench and catch the stink of deaths disease When yesterdays close mate to death succumbs he's instantly dead weight the friendship numbs, a trench wall swiftly serves cadavers tomb, it must be culled to stay the noxious fumes At times the dead limbs prod out from the sod and though it's grim in war not much is odd, one stiff for days was offering a hand, who passed its way for luck shook it deadpanned In war deaths place as sole halcyon midwife bears each corpse its space not known in life, youth called brave by tribalistic cultures in epilogues o'er graves by chieftain vultures War's an old mans game the young mere chattel whose purity's inflamed and aimed towards battle, our history won't soften into calm, our nails aren't just for coffins but for palms . . . . photo by author of Max Vanka's Millvale Murals, St. Nicholas Croation Church Millvale, PA. |
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| © Copyright 2003 Richard S. Wells jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
You've been gone awhile, but your pen has not been quiet, and your mind is as fertile as ever... Welcome home... |
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Connel
since 2002-11-04
Posts 736Florida, USA |
.. This is so very powerful! so much meaning. And just, actualyl sad. Gotta get the ears outa my eyes.  Read ^ there, because you are reading the wrong part! |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Richard---It is hard for me to exclaim over your writing ability..for this subject is so sorrowful, yet I must..you write so well! |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
wonderfully done... I have missed your offerings of late...and this reminds me of why.. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Expertly penned Richard. You have been missed! ~Smiles & Hugs, Nancy~ ~ Trace my body with your words.. |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Excellent work. |
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regards2you Member Elite
since 2002-10-01
Posts 3940California |
Richard, I stopped breathing half way through this poem. Had a major emotional ~and~ mental effect on me. This is an awesome poem. Worth rereading, more than once. Enjoy your talent and I thank you for sharing this with us. Pat  ..without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.. |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Very well written, Richard. War is not a movie and John Wayne was a myth...to glorify such an event is as big a travesty as the action itself.. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Stay low lest swarms of bullets sting as bees or winds transform the air to gaseous breeze, two to a match the snipers site by three, entrench and catch the stink of deaths disease When yesterdays close mate to death succumbs he's instantly dead weight the friendship numbs, a trench wall swiftly serves cadavers tomb, it must be culled to stay the noxious fumes At times the dead limbs prod out from the sod and though it's grim in war not much is odd, one stiff for days was offering a hand, who passed its way for luck shook it deadpanned In war deaths place as sole halcyon midwife bears each corpse its space not known in life, youth called brave by tribalistic cultures in epilogues o'er graves by chieftain vultures War's an old mans game the young mere chattel whose purity's inflamed and aimed towards battle, our history won't soften into calm, our nails aren't just for coffins but for palms . =============================== I've read this several time now and still all I can do is shake my head and wonder what a mere moth like me could say that would really do this work a true justice. The meter and cadence alone is a work of art...the imagery and its intentions is beyond words like vivid, stark, powerful. The wisdom of the inspire comes from a higher level of understanding and intellect than I'll ever touch. and what makes this all even more impressive is knowing just how long you've been doing this. An exceptional write from a poet of exception. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Richard, I'm speechless |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
Rarely do I enjoy war poetry. Yours is an exception, even when the read is painful. |
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Marshalzu
since 2001-02-15
Posts 2681Lurking |
Brilliant Writing. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Yes you are a darn amazing writer Richard. Enjoyed this work. |
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