War and History Poetry posted May 22, 2020


Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
War and Peace, History's play things.

Of War and Rattling of Windows

by Frank Jauregui

The screaming of the children
The laughter and the screaming of the children
Came to rattle at my window -
Disturbed my morning shows of grief and war.
 
Somewhere in this world - Smart Bombs
Struck with pinpoint precision
Yet somehow managed to botch their mission
And instead of the expected A’s,
Brought bad report cards home.
 
And one could almost hear
The laughter and derision 
From our foes around the world
Who, while not as smart have grown proficient
At converting F's to A's.
 
The lackluster performance
Of our prodigy however
The inglorious allegory
The comedy of errors -
Left me disgusted and provoked at once by life. 
 
Still, the screaming of the children
The laughter and the screaming of the children
Came to rattle at my window
Compelled me to arise and investigate the matter-
Perhaps outside, I’d find the world a bit less shattered
A semblance of world peace, perhaps I’d find.
 
Outside -
On the open field across the street
Unbeknownst to me
While I’d been watching
My own spectacle of jousting jokers
Passing for news on my T.V. -
A Soccer Match had sprung.
 
The whole neighborhood was there it seemed –
Some watched, mildly amused
While others, more engaged
Wildly cheered for their own children -
Brightly marked by the sharp
Contrasting, colors of their teams.
 
Excitement filled the air
As children ran and laughed and screamed
But the murmurings of that morning
Sharply tugged at my dull ear
Returned me to the rattling at my window
To the helpless, anguished screams
To the mourning for the children, dug up from the rubble
Of their howling parents’ dreams!
 
Their screams returned me to the spectacle of children
Caught up in this world’s deadly, charade
Exhumed for one final exam
One last F-U parade
To rattle at the windows of hapless men like me
Who pretend hard not to notice
That once more, the F’s were turned to A’s
Before gleefully reported by receivers and deceivers on T.V.'s
 
And I couldn’t help but wonder
As I watched the colors streaming
Children Running, kicking, screaming
Chasing after but never quite controlling
The direction of that checkered globe -
That peace is like that ball they’re rolling
Jostling and cajoling, inching closer, ever closer
Just never quite achieving that ever-elusive goooooal!!!
 
Surely, peace is like that ball they kick about
Seldom handled by the hands
Now and then they use their heads
But only as a desperate, last resort
Seldom to divert disaster
Rarely to avoid the bad reports
Of Smart Bombs coming home
To rattle at the windows of dreamers such as me.
 
Suddenly, a ruckus arises
I watch in shock as adults remove their quaint disguises
And angrily, join their children on the field.
From outside the border markings of the green grass lawn
I watch as confusion sparks and then arises
Perhaps a Ref made a bad call,
Or perhaps a child was made to feel too small
But suddenly I realize, all feet are on the field
And all eyes are off the ball!
 
In all the chaos no one noticed a small child of two or three
Was there no one else who noticed him but me?
I watched, as he bent then gently, lifted 
The small abandoned, creature he had found.
Oblivious, he crossed the border markings
Of the green grass lawn
With the creature gently cradled in his arms.

And there beneath the shade of a lonely, Dogwood Tree
The little child hugged the ball,
Lovingly, he rocked it in his arms
Then kissed and gently pressed it to his cheek.
 
As I watched him quietly from afar
I offered up a prayer in whispers
Half hoping that the game would not resume.  
I then returned to my own room
Now darkened and disturbed
By the laughter and the screaming of the children
That on that morn, my own frail peace abruptly stole
When it came screaming, rattling at the window of my soul.

 



War Entry contest entry


Throughout history, war has become more and more horrific as it becomes more and more impersonal thanks to advances in technological warfare. War has gone from hand to hand combat on the battlefield, when warriors looked each other in the eye as they either killed or were killed by their opponent to now, killing innocent children and civilians (collateral damage) across continents from computer desks, via unmanned drones and intelligence guided missiles. This poem was written from my memories of Operation Desert Storm and the first Gulf War in the nineties, when these weapons first started to be used more economically and with improved proficiency. Also during these wars, the general public could witness combats in real-time as they happened, comfortably from our homes, on T.V. -making the horrors of war just another form of entertainment that could be manipulated by the obviously biased media on each side. The same battle could be made to look like a complete failure, while the other side reported it as a complete success, thus the references to F's being turned to A's - depending on the whims of the press and media on both sides. That was thirty years ago - the thought of how far we have advanced since then in our technological warfare and considering how proficient our social media, mainstream, and others, have become at manipulating information - I fear that senseless wars will increasingly become more common and blindly accepted in our time.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


Save to Bookcase Promote This Share or Bookmark
Print It View Reviews

You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.


© Copyright 2024. Frank Jauregui All rights reserved. Registered copyright with FanStory.
Frank Jauregui has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.