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war though it be
I have myself an if
an owl is not fit
to see green
or we to see which
tomorrow we conceive
Poems on the topic: war
Poems on the topic “war” on Poets.by.
Garden Party
Our hosts had buried TVs all over the yard
& plugged them in. Screens hissed
their snow from the grass
as we drank draft beer from plastic cups.
They were like oracles, chthonic & obscure.
A young woman who appeared to be tripping
stopped short, stared & began to weep.
It’s not fighting, I said, trying to console.
It’s dancing.
It’s cosmic background radiation
& thermal noise, she said without looking up.
Reality is beautiful, you know?
I crouched down for a closer look.
It was 1990. The news was full
of the end of the Cold War
& the Gulf War was still weeks away.
Crushed
My first crush was a statue:
strong and silent, noble
to a fault. Realer
than the dead general
he memorialized, for his triumph
was far less fleeting.
He kept his chin up
no matter what, weathering
every pigeon. His head
was like a moon, blotchy
with seas. As for me,
I didn’t want to be seen
with my head of a beast
like an ass-backwards sphynx.
Small dogs assaulted
the space I’d left
3-The Child
The journey ahead looks pretty far
I'll just play here and be the star!
Away from reality, living the fantasy
How beautiful my world can be!
Tim, ready your sword and let us fight the monster
I'll be the warrior and you'll be the hunter
And let us find the happily ever after!
Let us play, and play until mom brings us home
I miss my dad, he told me he will be fighting
Day after day, I keep on writing
Letters for him to show how I miss him
And how mom bought me ice cream!
Two months has passed and a man came at the door
And said that my father charged into the core
He told my mother, that dad is no more
I ran into my room, and cried on the floor
Crown of Tears
it seems to me that the only
cure
for a broken heart is to spread
the pain
to others and wear it like spoils of war
Belligerent
they say i'm strong because
what i've done is unbelievable.
they say i am good and safe and dependable,
that i am a soldier protecting my own.
but if i am a soldier, then i must be at war.
and if this is a war, then it is one that's never happened.
a war that should have and is still waiting to.
The Storm of War
Rain pools around like the blood of men
Thunder screams like the cry of death
Lightning slashes like a blade on flesh
But the storm rages on, without regret
Waiting
He was a little boy; just turned two,
Walking at the park, with his mother in blue.
To everyone he saw, this is what he'd say,
"Hey! My daddy's comin' home today.
He's been at the war, fighting for us,
But now he's coming home in that army bus.
He promised he'd come today in his letter.
I used to miss him, but this will make it all better."
The people would look in the mother's green eyes,
They saw the pain and regret of the lies.
And they knew the truth, as it is for some,
That boy would be waiting for what would never come.
Anger is...
Anger is a feeling everyone has and few can surpress
Anger is the reason the world is so violent
Anger is all consuming
Anger is irrational and unintentional
Anger is cleansing but shameless
Anger is the cause of a feeling of numbness that obstructs your ability to acknowledge how hurt others are by your words or actions
Anger is a war that never ends
Anger is brainless and demanding while it lasts, but regretted once it ends
Anger is hard, cold, and lonely
Anger is using your mouth before your brain
Anger is a furious, thunderous storm of feelings you have to endure alone
Anger is life
Smt Kunjamma Wd/o Late Sep Joseph
Cheques, neatly printed, issued in favour of
Smt Kunjamma Wd/o Late Sepoy Joseph
Smt Nalini Pavithran Wd/o Late Sepoy Pavithran
Smt Chandramathy Wd/o of Late Swr Gopalan and so on and so forth
Cheques of the Army Welfare Board,
Doles, for the survivors.
Scrawling my signature over them, ticking, rapidly glancing
Back and forth at the PC and cheques
At the amounts, dates, and other details
I flip through the leaves
Cursing inwardly at the mounting work
And my aching eyes and having
To fix a glassy smile on my face – suddenly -
Before my eyes appear the mountains, the deserts
The gullies and ravines
I feel the numbing cold of the snows
* * *
The film
under an eyelid
The roomful
of people
& afterwards
The face
pressed
to a pillow
An irritant
as the smoke
passes
in the mind
in a hut
on a field of artillery
in a fire of napalm
Mind Drainage
November rain clots in
the fertilized gutter of my
dust packed soul,
existence storms within me
ticker tape thoughts struck by lightning
mad stockholders of cells sunspot through my flesh
reaching to sear the plastic backdrop
through which I walk.
Telling myself of Great Auk stars
does not create enough
petroleum jelly in my mind
to ease the burns from
my inward x-raying eyes--
frog legs of pain
can-can in burlesque of my seriousness.
my stomach unreels in newsreel battle gore,
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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