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Andrew Rueter Jul 2020
One strike from the air should be considered one airstrike
yet here in America we conflate air raids with airstrikes.

We say one plane dropping one bomb is an airstrike
but five planes dropping twenty bombs is also an airstrike
obfuscating the definition of the term
to lessen its rhetorical effect
and the statistics of our shady war efforts.

In terms of airstrikes we should count every explosive munition
because on the ground people are dealing with individual impacts
but our imperial aerial view makes it look like just one big explosion.
Ellis Reyes Nov 2015
There he is
the loudest guy in the bar
Boasting about clandestine OPS
and battles he’d ‘prefer not to remember’,
But he does,
because he has an audience

There he was in Ramadi, Korengal,
Tikrit, Kandahar, pinned down by dozens,
no hundreds, of enemy fighters.
His best mate, was hit by shrapnel or an enemy round.
He screams for Doc
But no help comes
The barroom hero
applies a compression bandage,
but the blood continues to flow through his fingers
Minutes pass, his buddy worsens.
Doc arrives, finally.
The buddy is stabilized and loaded onto a stretcher
He’ll be on the first bird out

The battle hardened warrior continues his tale,
regaling his table with airstrikes, CQB, and
taking the battle to the enemy.

Someone asks, “What unit were you in?”
He replies proudly, “The Second Ranger Battalion.”

You set your own beer down and spin from your chair.
You make your way from your table to his.
You place a silver coin upon it,
“Second Ranger Battalion,” you say,
“Coin Check.”

The color drains from his face
Fear in his eyes and an ‘Oh ****’ expression on his face,
He stammers something about being ‘attached’
and having orders for Ranger School once.

Your icy glare tells him that he’d better
**** and **** before he is no longer able to do either.

He throws a $20 onto the table and finds his way to the door.

******* ****.
Ignatius Hosiana Jun 2016
War isn't that fusillade you hear in the distance
betwixt the government troops and the resistance
it's the civilians getting tattered in the crossfire
it isn't the wham of bombardment from airstrikes
by blaring Jet fighters across a shower of black in the sky
it isn't the badonkadonk of a Rocket launcher or Black Mamba
but natives being swept like Safari ants in chunky numbers
War isn't those mines planted in hitherto playing field
but the ignorant innocent children in search for a distraction killed
War isn't the televised scorched homes and gardens with corns
but the consequent drought, scarcity and "famined" and feeble as thorns
War isn't those vehicles and motors torched
it's the blameless owner who in tears the absurdity watched
War isn't that cacophony of politicians on stuffed tables
their speeches filled with hypocritical vocabulary are but fables
speak to the maimed and dead whose voices are never heard
it's those who want the anarchy to end, it's they that are tired
War isn't the nations battling or the parties in contention
it's those set, torn and cast apart...the ones we seldom mention
the parents and siblings forced to say goodbye
while their Breadwinner falls victim to conscription
despondent and despairing as they look on and cry
knowing their brother and Son's like those taken before bound to die
or those refugees wanting to return to their cradle
but having no home and nothing to return to but rubble
those forced to stay in the first world midst racist chants and hate
jeered by the "civilised" like they chose their skin-color and fate
War isn't the famous voices we hear and talk about on the media
but the ****** girls abducted, gagged, ***** and mutilated
War isn't the beautiful monster tanks wrecking
but the historical landmarks and fashioned roads
reduced to nothing, the lives within squashed under their loads
War isn't the glamorous documentary films censored and unreal
but the muffled deadbeat voices from heartbreaks that never heal
It's seeing one's whole life sublime in one moment of savagery
compelling the orphaned and widowed into manacles of *** slavery
for with the loss of their husbands and parents, neighbours, Uncles
comes the tight grasp of inhumane chains and anchors
in those places they are forced to seek refuge
places where they are treated worse when they attempt to refuse
War isn't just being apart from your people by a million a mile
War's learning to wear a weighted mask of a smile
while the heart, Soul, Mind and one's entirety's in Tears
War's knowing all one's "perspirational" toils were but wasted years
fearing to tell one's story because among the presented ears
one can no longer tell one that truly listens from one that just hears
..
whatever's in speech be it poetry or Documentary isn't War
War isn't words, war isn't testimonies, there's more
destruction to War than the eyes, heart can handle
not ever can War fit in the descriptions of words we bundle
War's something humanity never deserve
so unfair for we make war when most can hardly make love.
Nurul Hoque May 2021
O Palestine
My Palestine,
Open your eyes
You  need to reply all
       in the language of bullets
In a voice full of hatred
I saw Israeli bombardment overnight.
Burning human civilization all around
The curse of our souls is upon
those who are engrossed
                     in destruction.
Those who take away our abode.

O Holy Mosque Al-Aqsa,
You are the essence of our existence
I swear by my Lord that
I will never allow this
holy place of yours to be defiled.

Where is my brother
Arab non-Arab
Qatar
     Kuwait
         and the King of Saudi Arabia
Who are holding the flag of Islam?
Who are contained an ancient heritage.
O brother
Are you engaged in oiling their palms ?
Now we want unity.
And there is no alternative to unity.

I hate all airstrikes
Bullets are falling from unseen dark
O Palestine
My Palestine,
When will you sleep unduly?
We are waiting for the good day.
Nina Messina  May 2014
Reclaiming
Nina Messina May 2014
My life is a battleground
I’ve led thousands of recon missions to reclaim the parts of me that in my younger years of captivity beneath tyranny’s reign, were ripped from me by the velvet gloved steel palms of my father.
I have been trapped beneath crumbling buildings of my own deteriorating self image, railroaded and betrayed at every turn
There is difficulty in moving forward, when years of debris weigh heavy on your back
Not the wreckage of my life, only his, burdens bestowed, yet not belonging, I was convinced were mine.
I made attempts to be smaller to fit into the shape of what was expected, to abide by his will
Belief, blossomed that perhabs, if I was small enough I could escape their notice,
Shrinking, I've found, is impossible,  instead I grew. Unfolding like each arc of the universe, too myself, and what he made me, to escape discovery
My father fed into my problem and let me expand
He wrote his mistakes into my skin, sunk an arrow of shame deep into my heart, until the pain was too great to remove it, he kissed his sorrow into my forehead and told me everything would get better, though poison of his actions had set my blood, my thoughts

Playing favorites, professing conditional love, I was made to fight, as if I was not worthy enough oh my own.
Simultaneously his reassurances made life all the more difficult, while my brothers and I, struggled against one another in hopes of catching his attention...
His approval....
His love
the wounds I was given me made me wise, it's best to believe that suffering does not make you kind.
It offers only a mirror, to hold up beside your past self, a means of reflection.
I’ve learned that struggle is how nature strengthens us, to humble myself and rid pride from my existence in order to hone my edges
That the twisted way he loved, was the only way he knew how, the only way he was taught. It gives perspective, and no comfort.

He never delved into lessons of battle and strife, but the art of war was not lost on me.
I waged wars with my brothers, raised my resolve, fortified my defenses, barred doors and closed hatches, rained verbal airstrikes against them. Fighting back was never a question of strength, only desire, the strong pieces of me, that grew when no light could be found.
I have taught myself how to hold a gun to my enemies intellect, to cut skin with the blade of my tongue, brandish a knife to my own skin to cut out the destruction of a dysfunctional youth, I catch razors between my teeth as I fought off, as I continue to fight off the onslaught of my own self hatred that rolls over me like tidal waves, uprooting foundations.
I am a rock to break the rushing wall of water, I will rise again, my islands will drain themselves of the bitter taste of sea salt and blood

If you look in the debris of my youth, my heart will show you
The lands of my mind and my body will be mine again, I am the king of myself,
I will reign again.
My rebellion is one incapable of being quelled
I will fight myself until I can take back every part of me that I lost.
Aiden James Roten  Feb 2015
War.
****** night, Stormy night
Soilders perishing
Cannons firing
No one is reviving
And the sound of people crying
No one knows how this started
But there's a lot of blood flying
Airstrikes bombing
Gunshots flying
Its all really terrifying
All peace and hope has been lost
When Cannon shots start multiplying!
Gemini Jan 2020
Bullets made of lead
Brave soldiers blood keeps getting shed
IEDs and S-vest go off leaving captain America with TBI and shrapnel in his head
America said it’s only my 3rd day out here so why must y’all choose to put me 6 feet deep in my bed
My winter nights supposed to be cold not ******
When I said a vacation far from everyone I didn’t mean in ROTC crawling on the ground getting muddy
And I won’t say names
But this countries deck of cards hasn’t been the same since we added the 45th card and now he keeps receiving the wrong kind of fame
I don’t have a problem with the man it’s more his beliefs choices and antics
Airstrikes on foreign countries now WW3 is trending and everyone’s in a panic
College students scared to file their FAFSA because they’re scared to be drafted
To think I almost brought a child in this world
To think I almost married one of my friends to keep her in her first world of choice and not taken back to her third world
People get married in court rooms then take pictures in front of the courthouse and settle for dutty pigeons flying over head instead of the white doves
No flower girl in sight just kids forced to dress up and smile for their parents wedding picture but it’s the fifth guy they’ve seen their mother with so they’re confused as to what is really love
Most women dreams of an elaborate wedding get shot down and crushed due to the fear of immigration looming
Now men’s dreams of being able to protect and provide for their family get replanned for them by getting shipped to war to prevent nuclear bombs to get to booming
Instead of making peace we’re bombing people
Before getting out of one war we’re deployed to the next
Low morale and fatigue get us captured and tortured now the enemy is recording a video of chopping off our necks
We just sent 700 troops to the Middle East to prepare for a war that’s imminent
If not WW3 scale there’s a war coming
And when it comes I’ll be running
Not towards the bullets but in the opposite direction
Up north and make my new national anthem oh Canada and sipping a Canada Dry
And if I look at the news and hear sad reports about my former country I probably won’t have a tear in my eye
MARK RIORDAN Apr 2018
AMERICA FRANCE AND THE UK
AIRSTRIKES ARE NOW A SOLUTION
WILL RUSSIA AND SYRIA STRIKE BACK
IS PEACE NOW NOT A RESOLUTION



CHEMICAL WEAPONS HAVE BEEN USED
THAT KILLED SYRIANS OWN PEOPLE
WILL THIS CAUSE A WORLD WIDE WAR
WILL OUR WORLD NOW BE CRIPPLED



OUR WORLD IS NOW IN A HORRIBLE PLACE
WHERE LIFE IS NOW NOT PURE
WHAT IS A LIFE REALLY WORTH
FOR PEACE IS NOW NOT SURE


WHAT WILL IT TAKE TO BRING PEACE
WHAT IS LIFE REALLY WORTH TODAY. NOW MORE INTERVENTION FORM AMERICA IS OUR WORLD ON THE BRINK OF DESTRUCTION.
Andrew Rueter Jul 2020
Yemen is a floating failed state spinning in the maelstrom
of flu, COVID, diphtheria, and cholera on one side
and the US backed Saudi coalition on the other.

They float there
like an abandoned oil tanker
floating off the coast in the Red Sea
threatening to spill 1,000,000 barrels of crude oil
until entirety turns black—
a sticky substance that’s hard to clean off.

It floats there as a deterrent—a ***** bomb
Houthis hold hostage future generations
with an IED that will injure all of our children—
why have Houthis weaponized the destruction of our planet?
Could it be that we’ve taken their world from them?

The people drop
like a bomb from the sky
in the Shada area of the Saada province.

The country explodes
like a car of 13 Houthis—4 children—
sending shrapnel to every corner of the Earth.

How many children is a terrorist’s life worth?
Keep in mind terrorists could hurt children
or those children could grow up to be terrorists
or a defense contractor could go out of business
so what’s the price of a child relative to those scenarios?

21,000 airstrikes in 5 years
5 years to do the math
every time we try to solve the equation
the answer comes out negative.
ScribeMeAName  Feb 2020
I Wish.
ScribeMeAName Feb 2020
Candles are lit.
The family gathered.
The son brought downstairs, eyes covered.

Make a wish my son.
I wish..
I wish, the Russians were gone.

Confused? This is not birthday party.
This is Russian airstrikes dropped down daily.

Syria is my home.
A tyrant on the throne..
I'm not Syrian, but as a human my heart breaks for those in Syria, Yemen and all across the middle east, lives ruined by these wars.

— The End —