Another poem

[Dennis J. Squidbunny]

Harry’s Tango

the… bombs they dropped like fat black spiders on their webs.

and… all we could hear was the squawking of planes overhead.

volcanoes wept
the moon ran aground

Generals sat around
scratching their heads
waiting for someone to say
something profound.

And me? I was nineteen years old
with love in my heart
but no home to call home
Generals all cried, “Boy,
you’re just what we need,
down on the front line!”
With a hundred other boys
with guns made of wood
bullets made of bone
our hearts full of fire
eyes full of romance
I roared like a lion,
roared FORWARD!
FORWARD!
FORWARD!

Forward we marched
Forward save for one
save for one who broke rank
who turned tail and ran
forward save for one
so I shot him in the back
just like that
one shot
in the back.

his… back it arched like a cat hungry to be fed.

and… all we could hear was the bullet crack his spine like an egg.

yolk drained out
he said goodnight

All the boys faces
turned to me
waiting for me to say
something profound.

And me? I said FORWARD
YOU FUCKING CURS
ANY MAN THAT RUNS
GETS NO SYMPATHY FROM ME

Forwards we marched
Forwards into smoke
Forwards unto victory
victorious anonymity
names upon stone
a poppy in the lake
for every bullet that we took
every bullet that we gave

Howling we marched forward
into the night.

now… my children and their children weep as last rites are read.

and… all they can hear is my rasping breath as it comes to an end.

my body is a stone
blood fortified wine

In the dark all I see
a single silver face
waiting for me to say
something profound.

And me? I know that wars aren’t won
there’s just those who died
and those who survived
and the murderer we hide
in all of our hearts.
_________________
"Eight hundred pounds of nitro, his boots are thunder as he plays."

[nathan]

Murder?
It has a such tentative touch,
morally.
It slips its grasp around our heart
like fingers around a baby bird.

Mom won't take it back
now that you've touched it!

(Hearts often die from being touched too much.)

"The difference between ideas and men
is superficial," said Richard.
How many saints fell under gunfire
like a euphony in a museum of euphonies?
What's a hero worth when the poetry
has been subtracted from his soul?

We all wait for profundities
to issue from the mirror.
Most of us die of old age.

The rest, of youth.
_________________
All our final decisions are made in a state of mind that is not going to last. - Marky Mark Proust

[nathan]

drums and tape wrapped finger tips
performing tracheotomies with a pen
in formal wear at what was a nice event
that quickly diminuendos
like kittens with artificial glass bones
thrown off a cliff
to lay at the bottom and mew

and mew

some few moments after they're born
before they die
surrounded by oxygen and sunlight
as one does
as a kitten with glass bones.
_________________
All our final decisions are made in a state of mind that is not going to last. - Marky Mark Proust

[Milinz]

Mirrors

It's a one way mirror
But the wrong way reflects
The funny thing is
No one suspects

They don't see themselves
But they want what they see
This reflection you know
Can never be

Yet they stare at the glass
For hours on end
Like a lonely caged parrot
That's found a new friend

Don't get caught in the act
Don't chance a peek
That silly old glass
Has no answers you seek
_________________
Idle hands may be the devil's work but idle minds you see are so much worse.

[Darqcyde]

-snip-
_________________
...if a single leaf holds the eye, it will be as if the remaining leaves were not there.
http://12ozlb.blogspot.com Now in book form: http://amzn.to/14E6OFy

[Martian Kyo]

Necrothready

Down from beneath the
Eighty tomes of internet wisdom
Arises,
Defiant.

Thrashing past all the
Heroes, the dead and the
Resilient.
Eternal.

Dragging its dead members
Along with it from the
Recesses
Of chat casual .

"Surely, you jest"
Enraged, I protest
_________________
Tsosm! Hydrogen fuel and Grumpy Cat coffee