War and History Poetry posted October 12, 2010


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Kyrielle

True

by fairydancer

.
Young John, eighteen, a vibrant flame,
he saw the army as a game. 
His parents said he had no clue,
there never was a thing more true.
 
Off ships they disembarked, one night, 
the Sarge said “keep your pals in sight,
there’s eyes in trees that will clock you.”
There never was a thing more true.
 
Young  Jorg, eighteen, conscripted, scared,
his elders said (though  they’d been spared,)
“It’s sure to make a man of you.”
There never was a thing more true.
 
They taught him well; just how to kill,  
so he took aim, released his will,
the gun, “precision made for you,”
there never was a thing more true.
 
His friend found John consumed by fear,
now shot in stomach, full of tears;    
he plotted course from battle’s brew,
there never was a thing more true…
 
...But medics could not save our John,
the son, the friend, forever gone,
his wife to be, just left to rue…
There never was a thing more true.
 
He praised his country with last breath,
did that help him after death?
It matters not, your banner’s hue,  
there never was a thing more true.
 
Mortician had the closest shave  
as now the man who dug John’s grave, 
so proudly aimed his spade on cue,
there never was a thing more true.
 
The leader of the war then said
to those who watched him from their beds,  
 “Thank you... he died for me and you.”   
There never was a thing more true.
 
His parents tightly held dog tags,  
that’s all they’re left with, and the flag,
(plus compensation money due.)
There never was a thing more true.
 
Just one more life snuffed out too soon,
while feeding evil’s scheming tune,
and peoples’ greed and anger too,
there never was a thing more true.


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Quatrain Poetry contest entry

Recognized


Thank you so much to Loyd Taylor for another of his great photographs.
Thank you also to Brooke, for all her beautiful Kyrielles, which have inspired this poem.
And a huge thank you to XY for all his help and advice with meter :)

Sometimes we have no choice but to fight, to defend ourselves, but to want the end of ALL war is surely a great ideal.
This poem is NOT about a particular country, just war in general.
The name Jorg is German for George, meaning "farmer".

A kyrielle consists of quatrains written in iambic tetrameter. The rhyme scheme is optional. I have used aabb rhyming. The last line of each stanza is repeated as a refrain. There are always at least three stanza's.

The idea of the repeating line of this kyrielle was to use as many possible meanings of the word "true" - fact, accurate; course was true, aim was true, machine that made the gun was true, statement is true...

rue = rue the day he joined the army
peoples' = 2 syllables
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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