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Todd Eatherly Poem
Amid silence filled
with tranquil fervor,
the Weeper stands
blotting the earth
green and yellow keen
against the echoes
of artillery and
dead men
damned to the
muddy wounds of war
Copyright © Todd Eatherly | Year Posted 2026
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Todd Eatherly Poem
Must you wound me?
Deviled dogs of Satan's lot
holding me upon raging seas
mouths garbled with sinful froth.
And must you pull my cloak?
Grubby nailed hands grasping
clambering upon my limbs.
Must you torment me?
Foul horned beasts sneer
with glee to fell a wall
that shall not fall.
Copyright © Todd Eatherly | Year Posted 2026
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Todd Eatherly Poem
Batten down the hatches!
Bar the doors!
For the storm looms above
boiling hot with natures wrath.
Stand tall men! Do not waiver!
Or run like the cowards you are
leaving me to tarry through the storm
wrecked by waves and rain
till I'm nothing but
splintered battered wood.
Copyright © Todd Eatherly | Year Posted 2026
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Todd Eatherly Poem
A friend told me
over a cup of joe
that the devil quakes in Prada,
barring the gates of hell
from the one who now hunts
beyond the mortal plane.
I chuckled, asking
“If that were the case,
wouldn't the sky be a constant
affixed with blinding cracks
electrifying both day and night?”
He simply shook his head, grinning.
Then the flash of a screen drew attention
to images of Death shell-shocked,
huddling in a hospital bed, quaking
with agonized fervor as if
he saw Death himself and lived.
It was then I knew
he was speaking the truth
as the sky crackled above
with bolts clashing
like steeled fists,
reunited at last.
Copyright © Todd Eatherly | Year Posted 2026
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Todd Eatherly Poem
Let the stars sing
a silent chorus, impending
the quiet, echoing
in the stillness of space.
Let the stars dance
a violent waltz
beams reflecting, dancing
faster than humanity can muster,
until like a cloud of arrows
they pierce the sky
sparks of white
upon an endless canvas.
Let the stars scream
mouths agape; soundless
Echoing of Nothing
into Nothing
as their souls wink out.
Let the stars die
smoldering husks
heat imploding on itself
ignored by the untrained eye,
the threads unwind
incinerating everything in its wake.
One final act
raging against the throes of death,
Until our own sun dies, screaming.
Copyright © Todd Eatherly | Year Posted 2026
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Todd Eatherly Poem
White Space
In perturbed silence, I sat
with music dancing in my ears
within a blank and bare room
solitude quieting the mind
against ever racing thoughts.
I dipped my head, eyes blinded
by a false sun, gazing upon
echoes of now forgotten names
scribbled in layers upon eachother
their owners now far away
from where I now sat.
Sitting there, I wondered
if they sat as I did,
panicking over tests and essays
scribbling their names in stressed fervor
so no one forgot those who struggled before.
The thought crossed my mind
to add my name to the web of echoes
etched into the wood, to be observed
years after I've walked the stage
moving onto ‘greener’ pastures.
but it was not time for that just yet
the book infront of me instead
drawing me away from reality once more.
Copyright © Todd Eatherly | Year Posted 2026
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Todd Eatherly Poem
I feign to remember
that day walking back
from turfed fields
sweat on the brow
robots on the mind.
Only, in that lockered room
did I feel that chill of fear
preeminence crawling up my spine,
snickering teammates entering,
I loitered no longer.
Or tried to,
My feet sank through the floor
petrified
as he loomed, eyes dark
wicked with intent
predator upon prey
flight and adrenaline
kicking my teeth in.
Stone shattering
I bolted, like a deer
only to get hit by the headlights
ragdolled against the table
freedom swallowed by dread.
Helpless, he threw himself
against me.
time after time after time
while all they did was watch
cackling like hyenas.
My rage grew as
the cacophony of laughter increased
building with each thrust
against me, vision darkening
painted red
as he threw me aside.
Red blackening
turning inward instead.
Heart of gold? Bah!
I left that room stumbling,
Rage boiling,
trust shattered,
acid eating away at the “gold”
of my heart.
Comradery turning
Into betrayal and painted masks.
Yet
all I wanted to do is break him
like he broke me,
snap his bones one by one
let him scream like I did,
watch him curl into a ball
to weep as I did
only for no one to save him
like no one saved me.
You can “forgive” easily, but forgetting?
You can never “forget” being helpless.
It curls into your soul like a disease
quiet but still lingering.
Waiting.
Watching.
“Gone” but never truly gone.
Copyright © Todd Eatherly | Year Posted 2026
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Todd Eatherly Poem
Can you hear it?
The rhythms beating,
pulsing upon the ground
boots trampling dirt as
they march towards war.
Can you feel it?
The innocents cry for blood
bloodlust for the enemy thrumming
in each and every chest
as they shout for war!
Do you fear it?
Watching your father march
to the rhythms of his comrades
with no time for a goodbye
while your mother holds you
back against the rhythms
drawing you towards the sword.
Do you miss it?
The thrum of violence
Beating wildly upon
Your chest. The pulse
of drums now a whisper
replaced by the distant screams
of the damned.
Copyright © Todd Eatherly | Year Posted 2026
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