Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Introspection War Poems | Introspection Poems About War

These Introspection War poems are examples of Introspection poems about War. These are the best examples of Introspection War poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Poet Warrior

My Dear Enemy
Here I am
In full armor
My quill is full of arrows
My bow is taunt and ready fro battle
My horse is pristine and shiny black
I am your enemy
As you are mine to the death
I shall take my bow and arrow
Pierce you through the heart
My king shall praise and honor me
For many battles so well fought
I know I have to shoot my arrows
To save my own pitiful soul

My dear enemy
I just long for you to know
Every arrow, every drop of blood
Every soul that must depart
Due to my fine skills and sharp arrow darts
I die along with you
I know not who you are
Yet a weep for your lost soul
I imagine other times
Maybe we would sit for tea and cookies
Laughing over words of glee
You and I so battle ready
I am sorry for all the battle scars
The blood that flows so deep
Every arrow that leaves my bow
I am sure it too, also weeps

My Dear Enemy
I prey today that before the dusk
One of you will have a finer bow
My heart no longer has the will
To fill my quill with arrows so
Today, I let one of you end my day
No longer can I live on this way
All my fine arrows fired
Have finally been on target
My Dear Enemy
I love you as any man
I have only love for humanity
I pray one day
Our Kings and Queens shall feel this way
As off the battle field, I am carried away


Details | Free verse | |

Where Fools Rush In

This is where I come to cry....
I hold my breath, my mouth is dry
with dreadful words too hard to tell

This is where I come to kneel
The grave where flesh and stone and steel
lie fused as one
A shrine to mourn and shed our tears
and pray for peace
to One who holds the earth in place

The sound of pain blows in the wind
I lift my eyes up high, to Him
and, there I see where dark wings flew
We did not know the world would fall 
It came to pass where there is hate 
we learned too late to change the end

The smoke will drift as new winds blow
Where does it go, those waves of war?

No one knows ....the time, ..the place, or when, 
but it will come, and that is sure
once more with shores to seek and scores to keep
 ....and then, and then, and then, ....
more will weep!...Will it be here... will it be there? 
Will it remain, on far off shores?
Or at our door?
War for them, and war for us, and one by one, and on and on, it goes and goes 

The rush of wind to win the race, of war and pain.
And war remains to gust again.  Again again...to rain more tears

How will it end...?   The end of man...?  Is that our fate...?

Bow down the heart, for man has made a rule of war
Bow down the heart, for man has made us fools for war
Will sun and moon and stars look down, and look for proof ...
                                                               of why the world went  ......poof ?  



_________________________________________________


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Lucifer's Laments

"Lucifer's Laments" By M. Taha Effendi (Dramatic Monologue) Do You not see, Almighty God, How Your order man defied? So base, so vile, so gravely flawed, Yet so consumed by pride! He broke all sacred codes though warned, He dared to pay no heed, He mocked Your words, Your gifts he scorned, He breached what You decreed, Beyond the holy saint's facade, There hides a worthless cheat, A savage beast, a thief, a fraud, The master of deceit, Too weak to tame his lust and greed, To feel remorse, too vain, Power, wealth his only creed, And Your worship he disdains, He quenched his thirst with blood he spilled, In countless wars he waged, Centuries wore on. Millions killed, Civilizations laid to waste, But he prides this life of sin and crime, As he leads himself astray! His humanity lost in his race with time, And by the error of his way, Why then My Lord was I expelled? Was mine a darker sin? I am the angel that rebelled, But is not man my evil twin? To salve his conscience, me he blames, When he himself is full of vice, While in his heart surely he shames, To have staged his own demise, It is a myth his vice I feed, He writes himself his fate, Man: A far more disgusting breed, Not merely my incarnate! (Finalist - International Poetry Soup Contest 2011)


Details | Free verse | |

Urgent Call for Love

 Urgent Call for Love

The evil axis has been burning
Who rules the land? It’s now very vague.
The second son must get out of old Al Sham
And meet the hungry jury in The Hague
The puppet is hanging by his last string
And the judgment day is sure to come
Forty thousand martyrs will be singing
As they join me in my urgent call for love.

The war machine is pregnant and is bloated.
Money births an icy, rigid son.
He grows up in the muck of all this madness,
It arms its addled brother with a gun.
In my world, war is not an option,
Let’s end the chaos with a silken glove
Murdered angels soar among the heavens
Please join me, in my urgent call for love.

I’d love to build a mass market dart board
With mug shots of the Senators and House
I’d load it on an App and shoot the darts off
With the quiet, perfect clicking of my mouse.
How can these servants bow before their master?
When Moses had already freed his tethered load?
Make them testify before the one judge
And answer to our urgent call for love

Some years ago a scholar lost his lectern
Because somebody stole my vote away
He spoke his truth in defense of climate
And was told let’s fix it later, not today
When the perfect storm came a calling
It blew our measured lives and hopes astray
 My Mother, here’s an olive branch and white dove
I surrender to the urgent call for love.

The pleading skies and rivers, they have warned us
Their voices rose to wail their tortured song
The veins of life, they have been all corrupted
And darkness has been blinding us in fog.
Insanity bathes in its make shift chambers
It soaks in a vile and filthy marble tub.
Please join in my call for our salvation,
I am humbled,   in my urgent call for love.

Brenda Atry 1/1/2013 copyright pending


Details | Couplet | |

One Toy Soldier

One Toy Soldier

Little toy soldiers are all put away
Training is over for this time of day.
Where do these little boys go now to play?
Away from their home to die in the fray.

Little toy weapons are no longer there
But boxed in attics by mothers with care--
Where keepsakes still hold a lock of his hair--
While rockets and missles challenge his fare.

Little toy bad guys and little toy good
Haze in the distance when misunderstood.
Where fall the lilies on long crates of wood
And each gave their all--as good soldiers should...

Little toy soldiers are coming back home...
Mothers are weeping, laments all alone
Where flags lie folded--the gift of Shalom...
As the long box is lowered...'neath the loam

One little toy soldier is placed on the top
Remembering All--so that None be Forgot.

   
deborah burch©                            
4/14/2012

  


Details | Ballade | |

Expectations

Expectations

There’s one truth that comes through me
For those who’d stop and listen
If you can’t handle misery
And you hate those tears to glisten
Then here’s some really good advice
Don’t have those expectations
Expectation be the thing
That causes war twixt nations.

Expectations are the beast
That sweeps throughout our land
Everyone has many of them
Though they don’t understand
It’s because of expectations
That friendships rip to shreds
It causes many hearts to bleed
And torture in the head.

I’m dropping expectations
It’s pretty hard to do
And yet it’s worth the effort
I know that this be true
Sometimes I might slip a bit
But this don’t mean a thing
Cause it’s all within the trying
That makes the warm heart sing

14 January 2014 1007hrs.



Details | Elegy | |

My Return To Normandy

High on the Normandy cliffs
Looking out over Pointe du Hoc
As cold Atlantic winds whisper out
The names of the brothers I left behind
Now only fine marble monument shadows
Dot the trenches and empty emplacements 
As the final testimony of the fallen
Still ringing frightened with those desperate voices
Proclaiming both their lives and death
That they were ever here…

In the emerald hills of Collville Sur Mur
I can still hear the phantom naval shells screaming
Underneath the crying of men
Pulverized and dying in their comrades arms
All for the belief of the land from which they hail
While the roaring waves wash the still bloody sands
In and endless and rending cycle
That silent cacophony of brother and foe
Call out to me still for comfort and aid
Asking only to be remembered…


Details | Bio | |

hell was other...

hell was other
people’s lives, 
wayward wit and 
witless pride, 
played upon 
the green of life, 
until the light
was left to right,

hell was other
people’s thoughts,
fraught with that, 
that we applaud, 
aimless aims and 
limbless lots, 
the truth in truth 
we soon forgot,

hell was other 
people…


Details | Lyric | |

Sgt Griffin

A sorte protege os audazes
Yes a sergeant rode in here as always with
A daring pair of rangers that made us just
Go pray it's back to Fashion Day because
Baby we won't have to pass away, oh no
To the reality of a fascist state
Although

It's hard it's envious of me to see you apart from me baby
Yeah into so many things that aren't a part of me maybe
It's the coat of arms oh stitched by those that harm
That cause alarm
Or the green card rejected by the armies of God be-
Cause they frost The Fall and that's

That's just to save us all
And the justice saves us all

And the style is designed
And with the sign of a Griffin
The symbolism of a lion of wisdom
Where the kings have wings
Oh don't you see
Yeah my envy of these things that separate you and me

So the poet in the philosopher
He said that he'd
He'd throw us the thrill of a cross but first
Put on a gauntlet, in a British accent "lad you can't let
Oh the truth bring out the worst and let it get
Yeah the best of you" so

We'll catch it without the hurt but
Still left with a loss of words 'cause

The style is designed
And with the sign of the Griffin
The symbolism of a lion of wisdom
Where the kings have wings
Oh don't you see
Yeah my envy of these things that separate you from me
My envy of things that separate you and me


Details | Free verse | |

bloody men

The blade penetrated the flesh
like a prong to a pitted plum
he had played with war
toyed with war
yet the gun
well the gun didn't have balls
Not for him the sterile
three shrouds removed 
expunging of visera with a gun
sissy pistols
pansy takers

Stick um good
part the seas of red
wake and feed the hounds of war
plastic pop-guns shatter beneath the heel of Mars
Man UP, raise the staff
and shove the pig sticker into mother's child

Oh man, war, Old Man War
do you visit him each night as you enter 
what should be the path to love?
Have a poke little man
just remember, all that was is ...
and will be born again.

Dedicated to a constant friend and inspiration Chris Aechtner
Inspired by his write "kids use toy guns'


Details | Lyric | |

Mockingbird Still Sings

Children sexually abused
Hiding secrets none accused 
Mockingbird still sings

False Charities stealing money
Laughing while nothing’s funny
Mockingbird still sings

Corporations shredding evidence
Seas of hypocrisy and decadence
Mockingbird still sings

Cheating partners losing trust
Teens pregnant from a night of lust
Mockingbird still sings

Rape victims ashamed to speak
Lives destroyed remaining meek 
Mockingbird still sings

Middle East raging in war
All for pride nothing more
Mockingbird still sings

Delicate babies addicts born
Crack whore moms selling porn
Mockingbird still sings

Gang bangers need attention
Killing for an honorable mention 
Mockingbird still sings

Fools and vengeance shall expire
For winds of change to transpire
While mockingbird still sings


Details | Free verse | |

My Battles As A Soldier

Streaking skyward the tracers rip
Into hanging soldiers
Falling about into mayhem
Pulsing through blood-filled ears
Hearing comrades scream
Understanding nothing
This is the war I found…

Hatred filled hardened hunter
Into smashed building
Homes pulverized rubble
Strewn about the decaying mass
The scorched metal burning
Bodies of the fallen men
The miasma of war I forever inhale…

Tigers rolling through billowed flame
Firing upon burnt battlefield blindly
Retreating in terror I leave the voices
Calling as I my boots tamp by arms
Reaching for safety I couldn’t render
Brothers abandoned in the Arnhem snow
These are the ghosts of war who haunt me….

Battle’s percussion on the horizon distant
I fade through the fields upon the Rhein
Farmhouses glow a midnight path
Walking to the beat of gun fire echoes
Off the walls of a shelter a little boy sits
Unafraid of the man feeding him chocolate
In the crater of a bomb…

This flash of hope my salvation from war.


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Tanka | |

The Watch

Assuming the watch
Among the fallen heroes
Symbolic eagle
Touching American hearts
A patriotic sun rise


Details | Lyric | |

Solipsist

Let the Deicide commence.

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.

I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
your failure!

I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
 
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways

Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own  personal reality 




Details | Couplet | |

What Do I Know About Being German

Born American, sixth generation of great-grands all German,
not much liking sausage or sauerkraut, English speaking all the way,

except the Germany of my ancestry was fought over and broken
so I’m a bit of France, Germany, Poland, Hungary all the Holy

Roman empire, dissolved down, fought over, egotized, horrified 
and remade Into some new state where English is as common as German.

We share a love of flowers in the face of cold and rain, I drink less beer
and wine, meet up somewhere, anywhere around the world on a beach.

From my parents and grandparents, I know to serve up too much food
seven sweets, seven sours and drink and whirl the night away to a band.

Hardworking sorts, unafraid of a little dirt, loving dirt, the turnover
and young sprout brought to fruit, wearing overalls and then washing up.

To sit before a pressed linen table cloth, served up on the finest china,
the cha in my father’s name, the uff da, and other exclamations.

The morning rosaries, the blessed churches where we give thanks for all good
and the setting aside of pride while we work together to make our food.

Sure there are aprons for cooking. Shorts for summertime. A dive into any pool.
What do I know of being German, not much, it's just somewhere in my roots.


Details | Haiku | |

Bio in Short

It's been a good run
To the back side of sixty,
The short side of time.

First Hollywood kiss
Behind a pink crepe myrtle.
Thanks, Patsy Werner.

High school was okay.
Didn't help me to focus;
So, my mind wandered.

Surfed Bonzai Pipeline,
Big waves break into lava.
What made me do it?

Vietnam jungles.
I wondered why I was there.
America lost.

Smoking pot. Stereo.
Good fun in the seventies.
Psychedelics too.

And three wives later,
I finally found true love.
We're still together.

My destitute heart,
Saved by the sweetest angel.
I love you, Sandy.

Sooners are my team.
Most winning football program
In the Modern Era.

I am retired now.
But I have plenty to do.
Golf, primarily.

I've been writing more.
Perhaps I will write a book.
I have many tales.

I'd chase young girls; but,
Girls with a "grampa" fetish
Are so hard to find.

If I am lucky,
I will just drop dead one day.
With my peace of mind.

Yes, made a good run
To the back side of sixty,
The short side of time.


Details | Verse | |

Home of the Slaves

Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change

People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.

People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names

The list could go on  
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou, 
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew

George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise

Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, 
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle, 
But obviously greatness can be done.

We can rise above this stigma 
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void 
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned 
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine


Details | Elegy | |

VISION OF THE WORLD

Behold, I saw the vision of the world
Smoldering in the ashes of hate
utterly consumed with terrors
Beaten, ragged and worn
blood touching blood
The gleam of liberty’s lamp dimmed
by the smoke of her burning
wail over her; wail and mourn 
For the smoke of her torment 
hath reached to heaven

 I turned and looked again, 
I saw the vision of the world
Hope birthed in the heart of man
Strength of an indomitable will
Faith’s torch glowing bright 
Freedoms light burning warm




Details | I do not know? | |

Right or Wrong

Right or Wrong?

If I were right?
Yet you felt Wrong
Would it mean you didn't belong?

Could I ever be right?
If I judged you wrong?
Would it mean I didn't belong?

Did God make me right?
Or did He make you wrong?
If so where would God belong?

If I were an expressions of light?
You a magnificent expressions of night?
Where would that illusive wrong or right belong?

Diana Dalton
1 April 2008


Details | Villanelle | |

Righteous and Just

Righteous and just shall inherit the earth
The lord does chastise me so I see Him
Placed me in poverty pray I do right

Sinned throughout my life now I must think twice
Each and every hour this debt I owe
Righteous and just shall inherit the earth

Turn their backs they have people that I know
Failing in belief cause my will I give thee
Placed me in poverty pray I do right

A different path to walk to you I go
My destination is known you I fear
Righteous and just shall inherit the earth

Your punishment severe pain I endure
Forgiveness be time in you faith I trust
Placed me in poverty pray I do right

No longer without sight you freed my mind
The sanctuary I seek found in you
Righteous and just shall inherit the earth
Placed me in poverty pray I do right


Details | Free verse | |

Draconian II

[The Puppeteer]
The storm I see you in
Caught in the race of Caïn
Held by the arms you cannot see--the conducter of Ennui 
-No stronger than the void you hold within-
It began with a hope, an obsession
Casted into, slavery of repugnant possessions 
Granted by, the Avaricious Lords, the ones we serve for
-They Told Us to pray, hope, away from despair, the despair caused by their immaculate Hands
Malice, envy, greed, was granted to me, The Feudal Dream, we want to be Them, just like him
-just how he solaces us, ambivalent hope, engendering knives to my throat 

[The Fall]
In this Valley of morning and weeping
Love lies bleeding, in desperate fear
With their talons, the hunt to rip out thy heart 
As each velvet petal falls apart
Her body chained in their bile and lies, covered with their red-spy
-sent just to check if our souls are in line, do not defy 
Her blood velvet and pure, drips away with innocence of the amber guardian 
The soil of plagues, beggars, and graves
Is know her home, the coven of solace
Though the seed has died--resurrection Is near passing through death's fear
One stronger than you--and thy funeral skies
She is alive--anew
But the vapors still remain
The Apocalypse is here, do we fear?
Just for the death of our sins
Elysia never Seemed so far away

[Our Damnation]
Solitary ruins, Fulfill their visions
We strayed far from the depths within 
We all lingered to his solace--lies
-you make the sign everyday, but lack toknow the name
We are just the toys, he pulls all of the strings
We are nothing in this burning world
of Decadence, and Failed Semblance

[Draconian] 
Draconian--Reach for the shadows within
Draconian--Break from the Fallen's son
Draconian--Their empirical lies, only die
Draconian--Reach the shadows within


Details | Free verse | |

Colours

The various shades of yellow and orange of a napalm blast,
the dark grey plumes of smoke from burning jungle underbrush,
the shiny silver jets blasting away at the enemy,
the army green helicopters bringing in reinforcements,
the bright red blood of wounded comrades,
the brown wooden stock of the M-14 rifle,
the glistening gold bugle sounding taps for fallen buddies,
the colours of war seared in my mind forevermore.


Details | Ballade | |

Living as a TPI

Living as a T.P.I

Just under twenty years ago
I was down in every way
Because of time in Vietnam
 There was horror in my days
So Repatriation did give me
A special rate of pension
To help me with my daily stress
And take away my tension.

At first I hated all of this
I felt just like a taker
Though these guys knew without a doubt
 That me, I was no faker
Then one day I did think about it
And came to the conclusion
That me, I was one lucky man.
Then gone were my illusions

So then, I made the most of it
I learned to play Guitar
And wrote about three hundred songs
[Though I never was a star]
I walked along the wetland trails
And heard the birds rich calls
And realized this lazy life
It was quite wonderful.

So now I bless each day that comes
And do not care at all
That I am living off the state
I guess I have it all
And all this leisure that I have
I deserve it, all if it
Because I went to serve my country
And I know I done my bit.

19 November 2013 @ 1500hrs.


Details | Rhyme | |

I'm a Muslim I'm not a Terrorist

I am a Muslim, I’m not a “terrorist”.
How can I be a terrorist
when I’m against all kinds of injustice.

I’m against every act of sin and evil.
I hate all kinds of crime and even loathe
what Adolf did to the innocent Jewish people.

I hate what God hates; He (Allah) hates oppression.
I’m against stealing, against taking away
people’s loved ones and belongings for no reason.

I’m against suicide bombings,
against racism, against ignorance,
against self-harm and even derision.

What God hates I hate and God (Allah) hates
oppression. I hate it too when people fight
for foolish nationalistic reasons.

I’m a Muslim; I follow the true religion
of mercy from Allah the Most Merciful
Who simply wants us to answer His Call
to believe in Just One -Just One God of all.

So don’t call me a “terrorist” when I clearly
don’t have a ‘mass destruction’ weapon
and my goal in life is to
be with our God (Allah) in Heaven.


Details | Lyric | |

To young to die

Too young to die


They take a boy, too young to shave
Who has never lived his life
While his mates are chasing girls
They fill his life with strife
They send him off to a brand new war
Over some damned fools Ideal
I don’t understand their wars
And I guess I never will


The folk who like to run the show
Or most of them at least
Have never even been to war
They’ve never felt the beast
As he rips right into one’ intestines
That hollow hole of fear!
Each leader should be sent to war
Then the picture might grow clear


Then when they send young boys to war
They’ll see the whole damned show
The weight of endless terror
 And then maybe they’ll know
What it’s like as a fine young man
To be sent out there to die
He might then know, how a mother feels
When she’s lost her little guy.

1 August 2013 @ 1443hrs.


Details | Couplet | |

Going To War

The phrase, "going to war", has always had ominous and forbidding qualities that can 
reverberate to the very core of the soul. Experiencing such an ordeal has its own legacy. It 
differs from person to person in varying degrees and the anticipation is usually far more 
negative than the actual arrival into the area of conflict. Though each war has its own 
realities with which to deal, it is not the war addressed by, "Going to War". The poem reveals 
the war within when the psyche literally battles with the 'unknown' in its struggle to accept 
the actuality of an event feared and imagined.

The eastern sky grew dark with night, The west held light of day. A lonesome plane in westward flight Was taking us away. When orders came for Viet Nam And all the names were read, They may as well have dropped a bomb, Or shot us there instead. Some few had been to fight before But most of us had not; Had never dealt with death or war, Or fears of being shot. Our words came scarce and laughter naught, Concern was quick to grow. The doubts and fears we all had brought Seemed primed and set to blow. A wave of silence dashed our youth Against the rocks of war, And in its wake, the naked truth; We're little boys no more. The time had come to set aside The games of yesterday, To give our step a longer stride, To learn another way. Now doubt looms dark and ominous, A vulture from the blue, That preys upon what peace remains, From all the things we knew. We pray to soothe our fears and dread, For rest to ease our mind, For guidance through the war ahead, And mourn the 'world', behind; And that one day we'll understand Why people have to die... Still, time grows near when we would land, The miles were flying by. The windows fog with quickened breath In our descent to land. We all are sure a brush with death Is very close at hand. We watch Siagon come into view And wait to feel a blast; Then hold our breath, as if on cue, When wheels touch down, at last. The war, for us, has just begun; Our fates seem so unsure, But we are warriors, every one, Resolved we will endure. ©1971 by Jim Fish


Details | Free verse | |

A Low Church


“All war is a deception”

The day was chilly and dark
Low clouds hung over the sun
A low church stood a silent witness
To the raging sea and surf
Past its bent arch, darkness reigned
A candle lit slowly by the priest.
One by one the faces come to light.
Amused bronze. Smiling stone. Unsurprised.
For a time the length of that candle
gesture after gesture revives and dies.
Stance after lost stance is found
and lost again.
Who was that, you ask.
The saviour, the son, the priest replies.
A sceptic candle coughs.
I count the angels on the wall
And mother Mary’s soft tears
As all around the war rages
You come out in the dark sun
And find the children playing the game of death

24/09/2011

By Tahera Mannan

For constance’s “The Church by the ocean” contest


Details | I do not know? | |

The Nameless - for South Africans of all colours who fought for freedom


The Nameless


Slipping through the sieve of history,

the nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.

Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.

The nameless rest.

Their silent sacrifice,

quiet ordeal,

muted trauma,

remain interred,

amongst their remains.

The nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.

Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.

The nameless rest.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

in every step that we tread.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

for their spirit is not dead.


“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow


Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.


My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.