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Below are poems written by poet Ian Howard. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

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The Great War

The Great War

He pointed at us from a posters paint
 Washed away the thoughts of truth
 Many sick things in those days of death
 Feathers for those who did not go
 A bullet for those that became sick in war

A wandering crowd in killing fields
 Oh for those Daffodils to cheer the way
 Places lived that the rats avoided
 A stench that purveyed the scenes
 Those of muddy walls that gave death

No bouquets of flowers just a whiff of gas
 A friend mangled and left to die just there
 I would gladly forget, but can only recall his stare
 A strange look of peace in those blooded eyes
 As if he had found his family there in that hole

Forgive me brother I did not know
 That as the battle raged we lost you so
 Then to know that I may have stood on your pyre
 Made my memory so sharp without fear
 I tremble now to know these things

This only happened at a later time
 When the fields re-grew over battles time
 Where flowers of blood have taken your place
 You have now only a carved stone obelisk
 In our village that I think of as our families home

Know that it has been near fifty years
 Since you left, now they made pastures new
 You would think that they would hear you cry
 No more wars where all the young men die
 If only, if only, this were true.

Copyright © Ian Howard


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  1. Date: 11/13/2015 11:41:00 AM

    A powerful write, Ian! You captured the starkness and reality of war in this poem! Love, KIm