War and History Poetry posted November 15, 2020

This work has reached the exceptional level
With all heart (warning! Audio- war sounds at start))

Brothers In Arms

by RGstar

Brothers In Arms


Upon this day I write, let not weary fingers fail their ask
Neither tears in my eyes give way, in spite the honor of the task
On every line, I pause, as breath deserts each vision there be
Heroes, all...and if black, white, beige or brown, no colour I see
Yet, I ask myself, ''Where is the love, though they died for you and me?''

Brothers! Oh, brothers in arms

And they did not go gently into night, in search of a path divine
There, on wretched vine stood; blood-soaked-boots, they held the line
Uneven earth and frozen clay, where some still sleep, sleep away
How now, a child runs and plays, thankful of no sacrifice to pay
Thus, quill in hand, I salute and bray, for I'll not forget...in any way

Brothers! Oh brothers in arms

And let no tear in the wind blow astray... if to bid adieu
For them, you may see, a day, in the piper's queue--the chosen few
And let not your memories, on a breeze, fade a distant grey
Though old photographs, on dusty shelves, discolour and fray
See how little Tommy smiles, and has same eyes as his grandfather Ray

Brothers! Oh, brothers in arms

And now when guns laid silent, why are voices loud in hate's decree?
Painted placards on angry streets, knowing they died to set us free
When it is to them we owe this bond-- as to every pinnacle attain
Though sometimes, in weakness, we self destruct, gripe and wane
And to those few who still remain...Heroes! Walk on, to that higher plane

Brothers, brothers in arms

...And If one in the fight, way back then
...So, can we be, once again

...Brothers, brothers in arms

Poem of the Month contest entry



Bray=(of a person) speak loudly, holla, roar, bellow
Gripe= complain about something in a persistent, irritating way

With respect, if the audio is listened to, some war sounds (at the beginning) may distress some who have held on to those tragic memories, it is not my meaning. God bless you all.

It was difficult to write this one, there were many a tear...in fact, I had to stop recording a few times and retake because my voice did not hold...blurred eyes for the reading. Yet, tears are not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength, for it is with care and respect these words find you.

A heavy heart for our current climate of things, where I look back, on this Veteran's Day, and see visions of these brave men, soldiers and heroes all, for some never to return as I watch man against lead, flesh against machine, where like ripened plums fell, but still they held, and forward poured...dying so we could live...but how we disregard now with this hate for each other, taking pieces of the past to suit own agenda, which only comes from the will of other men. But, I say NO! And, if it takes forever, let us once again honor them, not in own visions of self importance and power, but in the cause of which they died...PEACE, one people. And if you didn't know, wild poppies grow on uneven ground...it is said, beneath, the brave still sleep in unmarked graves...and lest we forget, new poppies will grow, and in so doing, remind us of something natural to us as humans...valour, love, honor, togetherness and care...and those of you who lack any of these, please try, because it is the only way. Honor them...they did not die just for you, but for all...Honor them! And to those who are still here, by remarkable deed. I salute you...with all heart.

Music...adapted version of Mark Knopfler's song of same name for this poem...Thank you Eva Vergilova.
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