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My soul is shaken;
Sorrow hath returned
To Console me again.

Weary of endless misfortune,
I saw fit to revert unto my roots;
To crack open what virulent voices
Prayed would remain sealed.

But i yielded not
Enlisted, and
Remolded my bones;
Ready for duty.

But a double notification shook my
Nerves with concern made
Manifest,
By devastating news.

Given unto me was a letter of denial,
Stamped by the hands of our shield
At the barracks housing diverse knights,
For my health was deemed unfit
Unto their eyes,
As my veins run deep with an inherited blemish
Selfishfully passed on by
My begetters.

Ah me,
I know not what to do,
For invested i remain in this voyage.

What choice do i have
But to appeal?
Kymie 7d
Forged in a fire of brotherhood and violence;
Branded and tempered,
you are  called to service.

You step to the front;
relinquishing your home
and dawning the armor of duty and honor.

You feel your heart beat and you know that the tempo does not belong to you.
Your very breath contracted to the country to which you offer your allegiance and life.
Who casts you forth to a world that neither knows or cares who you are.

Who will remember you when this is done?
Who will know what happened here?
You are a piece of a whole;
Parts welded together by the hell that burned you up together and molded soldiers out of the ashes.

And as you kneel before the field of battle;
You take courage in the boots beside you.
You pray because you know that the ultimate sacrifice is not always made by the soldiers who die.

19 OCT 2020

Kymie
Ryan Clark Feb 2015
I am a hawk without wings
flying above  trees.
Salty wind hits my face;
I smile.

The land beneath me sings
bounty and beautiful scenes.
I gaze
It passes me by.

I am left to stare.
No thoughts to spare
deafened
by my haste.

My smile fades,
the time is neigh.
I descend
and clear my mind.

The helicopter hits
I feel the thud
First our packs
Then our guns

The roar amplifies
then fades away.
No longer am I a hawk.
Now I am a snake.
Hey guys it has been a hot minute since I last wrote a poem. Its been a crazy and hectic 2 years for me and I have accomplished alot, however it has not left me alot of time to think. I'm not really feeling the flow like I use to but I'm sure I'll warm back up once I pop a few more of these out and pick it back up... needless to say... I'm BACK (-&
Carl Miller Aug 22
Running:
What he lost that day was more than love, less than hatred
What replaced it was a feeling of soft neutrality
Nothing left to lose, but everything to gain
His future is a loaded gun, his target: tenacity

Gunning:
Giving all he has, concrete monuments cement his mind
Softly spoken, but teeming with fires
A furnace laced with bullets, guarding a heart of gold
The spirit of a brother, who's fight never tires
Go Get Em'
it wasn’t the earth that brought them here. Nor grass nor tree
instead a solemn scavenger
disinterested of it’s grateful treasures

sprinkling not like rain but like ashes
a goodbye unsaid and unheard
a kiss blown from armies away
hoping it may reach his camp

no god brought it here
as we fight our wars and **** our brothers
it did not fall from heaven
pushing through a crowd of loss

may there be no reason for its being
but persist it must
in hope for its spawns survival
growing evermore

through the cracks, they pray that shrapnel escapes
not all are so lucky as they
blood spilling for their passage on

they are no villains
just weaken souls in need of homes
so far from where their lovers lay,
in bed with other men

deployed as her seed will be too
dandelions
soldiers
in the wind together
Tom Salter Jul 5
And now come the other men,
The figurines, the foragers
And those who marched
Onward
By the failed evergreen. They
Speak of war grown days,
And times before the land
Was tore. Their voices
Shrouded
By one anothers’ patience, and
Each man carried his scars,
Cradled,
In their shadowed
Limblike arms, they bore
Tear marks
Printed
On their gormless
Salty cheeks, and
Under their heavy
Sullen eyes
Paraded gashes
And stains
Of crimson and bleak.

And now come the other men,
Out of the ovens, rushing
For some safer housing.
It’s all a conundrum, this
Waiting and wavering, an
Uncertainty
Mounted across a ditch
Of slightly burnt
Flesh, men mashed
Into one.

And now come the other men,
An identity shared
Between friends, who bask
In the untimely forgery
Of their postured
end.
Owen Feb 28
The world presses down,
and pushing back takes it's toll
on you.
It breaks you down,
you crumble,
pieces of body and mind
shear, flake, and tumble away
from your quivering self.
Everything hurts, eyes closing, mind numb, skin crawling.
Coated in sweat, earth, rain, fuel.
Gunpowder lines your lungs
filling your nostrils.
You long for a release.
Lifting the weight off your back,
to feel yourself float unburdened.
Water to run and renew you,
The hardest mattress a cloud above the chill ground.
Jean's like an old friend on fresh flesh that has forgotten denim.
The touch of a lover, long overdue.
Her soft skin on yours,
with lips so divine,
and a voice like honey.
You forget, for a while, the weight of the world, and all you need do,
is be.
You're set free.
7th
Today marks as your 7th year,
We'll never stop to cheer.
BTS plus ARMY consists of seven letters,
BTS has seven members.
We cry and laugh with you.
You made us feel loved and made us accept our flaws.
When we are exhausted, we don't get tired because we have you.
We are continuing to break the walls.
So don't worry about anything,
We'll stay with you forever.
We are together bulletproof.
We Purple you.
We Purple you💜
i woke up to you having shaved your head
blood running from the top of your scalp
bubbling scabs of trauma fully on show

you don’t need to have your guard up all the time
unlike your home, its likeness to army, a battlefield
there’s no bloodshed needed here
not spurted from innocence at least

i need putrid, burning affection
adoration for the calmness of now
of us and of fire not from
a barrel
but from violent acceptance of attraction
of something more than smoked and smothered ground

the bathroom ground, covered in curled up dead hair
smothered by blood

i wish your father hadn’t called
glad to be writing again, honestly it's a relief, in times like this i feel the sensation to write came naturally, so here we are, with a poem about trauma
Pinanday ka ng panahon
May tapang na hindi
basta sumusuko,
sa lahat ng laban
wala kang inuurungan,

Agimat mo ay katapangan
na umagaw mula sa kalaban.
Buo at tibay ng iyong loob
ano man ang iyong sagupain
walang di kakayanin.

laban mo’y hindi biro
Una kami sa iyong puso
Bago ang iyong pagkatao
Karamay ka, sa bawat
along bumubugso.

Ikaw ang bagong bayani
ng ating lipi na nagbabalik
ng kulay at sigla bitbit
ang bandila na may kisig
at buong katapangan.
Dedicated to all frontliners and to all great leaders.
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