A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
through silent valleys
around the earth
through the wind
The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
their ambient warning
Gust to gust each fades
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts
The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird
Two brittle forms
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
what can never be touched
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt
six feet deep.
Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015
How has it dawn on us so soon when we hadn’t even achieved much?
Why has the marketplace ceased to buy and sell so scanty the streets wither away
The clouds becomes more darkened as smokes ascend randomly our fields are on fire
We can feel the rain but it has lost its coldness
I hear more voices than I usually heard
This time of crying and wailing rather than chatting and hailing
chanting and singing songs of war
Dust and gun powders like fog fill the air,
with great rumble the battle rages
The long night tarry on nobody has awakened
Some privileged to pass on to the other side
Total transmission from what we see now
Carcasses litter the streets as we run from pillar to post
Yet not so sure where the lot may fall
Great assets lost in hot zones, they shouldn’t have taken the guns,
Gravesides more frequent than bedsides
When did we become such serious foes?
That tears can’t seem to mend?
We let our children die by our own hands and still squeeze our sorry faces
How valuable is this trophy, hope it’s worth the pains we are feeling now?
We match in battalions, onward we go
Faces brimming with boldness and courage,
Though fear still takes its partition
We leave behind loved ones not so sure,
like walking into the lions cave to kill or be killed
Jumping over strip wires, nice try
Only to step on landmines
A time to team up with death taking from one end
While it continues from the other side in its own way
Orphans, widows and widowers we make at will that which we had once pitied
What caused this sudden change?
So unfortunate many fighting ignorantly yet arrogantly
Now we pull down our once fancied walls to build more refugee camps and fill them
We overstretching science and make of men expendables
A time we show how much we can take
What we depict now is wickedness rather than strength
In this game
Copyright © victor nwakanma | Year Posted 2015
Silence is for the missing,
The sad, the lonely, the pained.
Silence is for the sturdy,
The quiet, the hopeful, the hurt
Silence is for the fighter,
The strong, the loyal, the brave.
Silence is for the soldier,
For those who gave their lives,
To serve, to protect, to guide.
Copyright © Kay Cary | Year Posted 2015
Our brothers were born upside down
They were conceived by mistake.....and
our fathers choose to call them prodigal
Who would have thought as much?
With their faces beaming with smiles as
their foreheads shone bright with promising future,
There names we never wished to forget because
they made us live reciting it again and again
But they ended up stamped on grave stones just because
they were too obedient to pick up the gun and had gone
Now we wished they weren’t born at all
We wished they hadn’t picked up the gun but run
We wished we were wishes
We wouldn’t have wished war.
Copyright © victor nwakanma | Year Posted 2015
SAPPHO’S FALLING STARS (Part one)
I am descendent of Odysseus
Hero of the past
Have I kin—I know not—I may be the last--
The Trojan War and Helen made my family's blazing fame
Thus magnified by Homer was made our honor and ancestral name
I stand this day the General of the fallen men that the Fates have tossed
across the Siren Sappho's way—
now foolishly slain-- my Fallen Stars
such a ragged few
in this paltry breath of a moment
of mere delay--
Inconsequential time in history
at their honor’s cost
for Mine, a Mighty Name
excuses easily such inconsequential blame
I cannot weep—I cannot pray
Such sacrifice of brave men
Lifeless , While I stand whole
Due to my folly
Sucks the breath stark from my soul
Yarns and lore of Heroes—I know
Babe……. to youth……… in manhood……..
Each far-flung hour, day upon dew-kissed day
Nurtured ever cherished in the sweet talk of the female-breast-kissed way
Absorbed sensuous tactics laced with salty woman taste--so learned
Intimately known as my manhood blossomed
You, Sappho, sought my need –-
Intimate follower once—
I ate your passion delicious sauced with greed
(part two posted)............................................
Victoria Anderson-Throop 12/18/12 ©
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012
There I am cold and wounded lying in the dirt. Bullets flying by my head as I cry out I'm
hurt. Nobody listens to my plea; they are all to busy trying to flee. Lying on the ground
scared and alone l feel like nobody cares and I am on my own. When I joined up I
planned to fight, knowing I’d be battling each day and night. I have made it this far in
the war with just a few more weeks until we settle the score. I want to live to see that
day so my best hope now is just lie here and pray. I don’t know why but my eyes really
itched, that’s when I saw it a five foot ditch. If I wanted to live I would have to crawl
only fifty yards out that was all. My adrenalin was pumping through my veins. I could
feel my emotions going down the drain. That’s when I did it I got up and ran! I ran to
the ditch as fast as I can, I ran I ran with all kinds of pride I felt my fallen brothers
running by my side. It felt like forever but I was finally there, I dove in the ditch and
started to stare. I started to stare at a medic there! I asked him in shock to radio help
but he didn’t speak he just yelped. I grabbed his phone from his pack and called in an
immediate air strike attack. I thanked God that they got my call. They will see a big flash
which will end it all!
Copyright © Andrew Ott | Year Posted 2011
Chloe's are the smallest hands
smaller than the hands e.e. cummings gave the rain
Melting the snow of my white glove
together we look out over the white domino tombstones
Chloe's are the brownest eyes
Wet and sad like a spaniel dogs
Tracing the shiny brass buttons on my uniform coat
Chloe is to young to understand why i clench her hand tighter
each time the guns fire for her Daddy
To young to hate me for not saving him.
Copyright © Milledge Webb | Year Posted 2015
He was just a brash young kid,
Couldn't even legally drink.
He did all the things he did
Because he had freedom to think.
He watched America bleed
From terrorists across the sea.
He answered his countrie's need,
Wanting to be all he could be.
He went to war to defend
The freedom we've all come to know.
He thought maybe in the end
He' d make a difference and so
He gave all he had to give.
Copyright © Ashley Lowery | Year Posted 2006