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The Urban Battlefield

(The final utterance and testament
of a fallen comrade. Belfast 1979)

He
never knew
till he laid there naked.
(A withering heap of travesty.)
How blue the sky
how green the grass,
each tiny blade reminiscent
of a gentle touch from a bygone age.
Each wound on fire,
yet a confound complement
to a burning passion
of a love he was about
to leave behind.
He 
saw formidable clouds
begin to threaten
the moment,
yet gently
refreshing droplets
tantalize the mood,
blend with a body
and it’s blood, before
washing a mind
free of it’s pain
forever!

© Harry J Horsman  1994


Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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Date: 7/26/2015 11:30:00 PM
Great win, Harry!
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Date: 7/14/2015 1:26:00 AM
Hi Harry, I just stopped by to say congratulations on your amazing win! :)Alexis
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Date: 7/13/2015 6:04:00 PM
An incredible write, Harry! Powerful imagery that places the reader in the middle of the moment. Congrats on your 2nd place win! Love, Kim
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Date: 7/13/2015 4:08:00 PM
oh my, I cannot believe I NEVER saw this one before?? I thought I had combed the back pages for every single one of your poems! Yet I do not see my name among the commenters going back to 2010. this is GOOD stuff, Harry. YAY for your amazing win.
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Date: 7/13/2015 3:24:00 PM
Beautiful. Such gritty imagery. Congrats on your win, Harry! xoxo
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Date: 7/13/2015 12:15:00 AM
Harry, thank you for the support... SKAT
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Date: 9/21/2010 10:41:00 PM
Harry, I would imagine when one feels life slipping away is when they appreciate it most as when you convey "How blue the sky, how green the grass". A truly brilliant understanding of human emotions in regard to separation of soul from body. I was very moved by this poem and feel it is one of your best.
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Date: 9/21/2010 4:55:00 PM
Oh harry so emotional and heart wrenching.. deeply touching write and special piece of poetry my friend.. appreciate all your warm and welcome comments always my friend..with luv...
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Date: 9/21/2010 9:17:00 AM
sad write...I am wiping tears in GA. Dying with dignity is an ironic statement/oxymoron or something like that. usually we don't choose how we die...maybe how we are buried.
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Date: 9/19/2010 11:43:00 AM
hELLO, HARRY! ENJOYED*LUV~SKAT
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Date: 9/19/2010 7:07:00 AM
Interesting Bio...Glad that you found lines five through eight so that your penned words can delight us..Sara
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Date: 9/16/2010 7:02:00 PM
I am deeply moved by this poem. The images, the evocation of mood and place, the reflection on sacrifice and violence, all are very powerful. And it remains somber, never becoming sentimental. - Bill Cook
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Date: 9/16/2010 11:35:00 AM
one can picture themselves there were that soldier..very well written Take care~Deb
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Date: 9/16/2010 11:10:00 AM
Enjoyed reading your poetry today Haeey. Hope you have a wonderful day. Love, Carol
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Date: 9/16/2010 9:46:00 AM
Very moving and touchy poem. enjoyed it, harry.
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Date: 9/16/2010 5:40:00 AM
The reader can feel the pain of this man dying on the urban battlefield, Harry. We get a clear picture of what he was seeing and the way he felt when the raindrops came and his mind was washed of its pain. Very moving poem, my friend. Love, Carolyn
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Date: 9/16/2010 5:22:00 AM
Excellent account of a dying soldier's last visions and thoughts, Harry. Very well composed.
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Date: 9/16/2010 3:08:00 AM
Harry really enjoyed your piece this morning.. Hope your day has been going great.. :) Wilma
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Date: 9/16/2010 2:52:00 AM
You have penned an excellent piece my friend. Well done. A. W. Nutter www.freewebs.com/abcedit
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