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Dark Poetry #1
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Wendy Flora
Member
since 2000-01-11
Posts 182
Virginia

0 posted 2000-04-21 12:51 PM


Herded into the truck, innocent as chattal,
You are all rumbling to the field of battle.
You have been trained for this, or
So they tell you.  The warm metal
Of your piece soothes your nervous
Fingers, and you find it suddenly
Hard to swallow.

You can hear the firing before you see it.
You can smell the bitter smoke, too.
It stings the back of your throat, like
The first drag you ever had off a
Cigarette. This doesn't help your
Swallowing problem.

A man stands and starts roaring orders,
Flailing his arms in one general direction.
You're not sure what he's saying,
But you follow the man in front of you
In a straight line like schoolchildren
Out of the truck, feet hitting muddy ground
In an ominous baptism.

It all goes well for a while.  You fire
Blindly in the same direction as
Everyone else, nestled gently in the
Womb of the trench, feeling like it is
All some elaborate backyard game -
That will end at dinner-time when
Your mother calls you.

Then, the boy next to you is hit,
The blood flowing forth in rivers,
Mixing with the muddy ground in
A sick pool reminiscent of Gilgamesh,
And the order is given to advance.
Your knees weak, you stumble on
In lemming-like fashion.

And you stand in the midst of the field,
The scorching winds of Hell rise from
The great maws torn into the earth.
Every inch of your fragile body prays
That one small chunk of flying metal
Won't randomly collide with any
Chunk of you.

Eyes morbidly frozen on the next hill,
You crawl forward without seeing,
Your eyes occupied showing the
Life you gave up on one shimmery,
Strobic picture screen.  Your lips
Move dumbly, making promises to
Loved ones in vain.

Forget honor, loyalty, courage, duty,
Perseverance, heroism, morality...
Words spoken in a romantic delirium
All you want is to feel your mother's hair,
To smell your father's aftershave,
Instead you are faced with an artillery
Charge of mortality.

The shell flashes white in front of
Your vision, tiny shards of its body
Flying out and tearing into yours.
You feel as if a thousand razor blades
Were making tracks in you, just passing
Through as if on their way somewhere
Some idle Tuesday...

The picture show that was your vision
Begins to skip, and as you feel your life
Ebb away as if some chilling, wintery tide,
And as your hand fumbles in your jacket
For the photograph of a pretty child,
Bright eyes smiling just for her daddy...
A single cry - "Victory!"


© Copyright 2000 Wendy Flora - All Rights Reserved
SEA
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 5 Tours
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676
with you
1 posted 2000-04-21 02:29 AM


Wendy~ this is amazing...... more like a story.....such a sad one too....wow......-SEA

[This message has been edited by SEA (edited 04-21-2000).]

Joel the wolf
Senior Member
since 2000-04-06
Posts 1333
Angels Camp
2 posted 2000-04-21 03:17 AM


Wendy did you follow me on the battle field?
Or did you die there to?
A good post, verrrrry vivid
Joel.

 I howl a mornful song, that echos within my chambered heart, for all to read? nay for all to feel.

Wendy Flora
Member
since 2000-01-11
Posts 182
Virginia
3 posted 2000-04-21 11:00 AM


Thank you.  )
If you guys have any suggestions, I'd welcome them.
-wen

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