The solider knelt,
knees in the dirt,
tired of the hurt.
For months they held him
P.O.W.
Only for an end
like this.
The smooth cold circle on his neck.
His captors said he was an example
for those who might think of freedom
Now just knees in the dirt.
Different from the dirt
on the farm back home.
This dirt yielded no crops
It only held the dead from rising up.
A purple flower blossomed.
Just below his eye
It bloomed, wilted and ran,
down his cheek.
He looked down
as if to examine a spot on his collar,
just before he leaned forward and kissed
the dirt in front of him.
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Leave a comment | tags: original poetry, originalpoetry.org, poems, poetry, POW, prisoner of war, war | posted in Uncategorized
Out here in the sand
when you don’t know who’s the Enemy and who’s a friend
and it f**ks with your head,
It’s hard to tell
What you’re fighting for
By the fourth tour,
When you’ve seen the Enemy’s father ask
“Why have you Killed my son?”
then you come and you tell Me
Who won
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2 Comments | tags: enemies, enemy, father, fight, friend, head, killed, original poetry, originalpoetry.org, poems, poetry, sand, travel, vacation, war, war poetry | posted in Uncategorized
sitting in the dark
waiting for the sun
that will never come
dreams turn to sand
slipping through your hands
the wind wiping wildly
through your long and unkempt hair
naked as a baby
dressed and gone to war
please somebody save me
from the shadows
outside my door
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1 Comment | tags: baby, beauty, dark, door, dreams, hair, hands, me, naked, nature, original poetry, originalpoetry.org, outdoors, outside, please, Poem, poems, poetry, sand, save, shadows, slip, style, sun, travel, vacation, war, wind | posted in Uncategorized
pounding
sounding in the distance
the drumroll starts,
feel it Beckoning
to your heart.
Drums, Drums,
the Wolves of War
Blood and Iron, sword and
Thundering Roar,
Slaughter, hands
slick with Gore!
Moving to
the drumroll of War,
Glory, Death and Murder-joy,
Come now lad,
off my boy!
Kill, stab, burn, Destroy!
Off we go boys, to
answer War!
Drums, drums!
rolling in your Heart,
don’t you want to
do your Part?
The acrid smell of
Gunpowder wakes Demons
in your Heart!
The Flames climb high
and homesteads Burn
Grab a women,
Take a turn!
Brutalize, Rape, Hurt, Take!
Drums, Drums!
The Animal call!
Screaming, grieving,
Pulling us All
A Maelstrom of Devastation!
an ignorant people’s Manipulated
Frustration
Drums, Drums,
Booming, Dooming
Land and body,
Spirit and Mind,
and tender feelings
Stripped from inside;
Drumrolls of War
Spilling over the Hills,
But
it’s Humankind
who Kills
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3 Comments | tags: acrid smell, blood, blood and iron, death, drums, flames, gaming, horror, humans, iron sword, Kill, mind, murder, oblivion, original poetry, originalpoetry.org, poetry, rape, Slaughter, soldiers, spirit, tender feelings, war, war drums, war poetry, wolf, wolves | posted in Uncategorized
Original Poetry 