General Poetry posted December 3, 2017


Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
Dedicated to all soldiers messed up from all wars. Isalud!

Ghosts

by easyeverett1

The twilight sky shines crimson bright
Above the golden eagle's magic flight
To honor all who fought that futile fight
And share with them the horror of each night.

Conditions of attrition caused by war
Can bleed a broken soldier evermore.


Please whisper softly just above the breeze
For now you stand alone somewhat at ease.
May fragmentary visions bring you peace
And harmony when all your conflicts cease.

War climbed inside your head each time you grieved,
No help from old traditions once believed.
The flaws of faith will not forgive your sin,
For what you are reflects where you have been.

All friends, along with faith, have disappeared,
Still buried in that jungle like you feared.
The youthful dreams you dreamed are lost in vain,
As nightmares slowly drive your brain insane.

A wife and children gone so long ago
When sickness in your mind began to grow;
You now are but a shell stripped of its gears,
Aladdin on his carpet ride in tears.

The sunshine through your windowpane at dawn
Reduces you from Knight to worthless Pawn.
The Checkmate of your brain is causing pain
And sunshine leaves you longing for the rain.

At night, miasmic death comes to your room
And you assume they're absent from the tomb.
But truth, be known, they thrive inside your bones,
As you begin to hear malignant moans.

They speak with tremored voices of the dead,
Then slowly crawl all over you in bed;
Control is lost, if ever found at all,
Succumbing to the reaper's furtive call.


The twilight sky shines crimson bright
Above the golden eagle's magic flight
To honor all who fought the futile fight
And share with them the horror of each night.

Conditions of attrition caused by war
Can bleed a broken soldier evermore.



Poem of the Month contest entry

Recognized


When I returned from my tour in Vietnam, I volunteered to visit veterans of that conflict who were trapped by their memories and dreams. I would sit with them in their room at the VA hospital and let them talk about anything they chose for as long as they chose. I was shocked to hear stories of not so much their experiences in the Nam but about the surreal memories of the Nam and the profound and vivid dreams they were having of those friends who didn't make it home. It has taken me all these years to try and honor their reality through poetry. I know this poetic falls short of what I wanted to create but I hope all those brave and broken souls can forgive my obvious limitations. easyeverett
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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