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Liz Rossi Mar 2020
here the sunshine patriot, bright and bleached –
they plucked the stars
to hang them from your chest. the rest are
gone, hidden by light pollution
and concrete skies.
your eyes reflect the blank face
of stopped clocks; steps from the car,
summer soldier.

but winter hides in
the cold metal of the trigger

a bang –
it echoes in fireworks, spatters the street with
blue white red red red.

the stutter of a gun,
or just a backfiring car?
sunshine man melts in a puddle of gaudy red,
the colour of sticky ice lollies
and patriotism.

here the newscaster, weeping tirelessly
for the camera.
“he was our country,” he says, and wasn’t he just?
back alleys and sunshine and
wanting to go back, wanting
to hide in the past.

and here the politicians, mourning loudly
into crisp white handkerchiefs. oh, how i wish we could
freeze time, draw grimaces in markers
on their painted faces
and watch them point fingers.
they use pretty words
heroic, or tragic
and pat their sweaty backs.

meanwhile,
sunshine man bleeds into the gutter
red white blue
the colour of freedom.
Yup, a poem about Marvel's (wonderful) "The Death of Captain America". Apologies both to Cap and the Winter Soldier, who, it seems, I've made into his murderer. Kudos if you caught the Thomas Paine reference(s)!
ThingsWillChange Jun 2014
On that day,
On that very day,
Somewhat,
Seventy years ago.

From the train,
You dangled,
Almost there hang in there,
Buck.

Almost there,
Stretch and reach,
Grab my hand,
We'll be reunited soon.

Creak and grunt,
Crack and scream,
Panic,
Fear.

Fingers collide,
Slipping through,
Rail snaps,
Fall.

That scream you screamed,
Terrified as you fall,
Farther and farther,
Screams.

"Bucky!"
"Steve!"
My screams your screams,
Gone.

Impact,
Injuries,
No light,
No arm.

Dead,
Dead in the snow,
Dead in the mountians,
No.

Seventy years past,
Seventy years ago,
Seventy years later,
Seventy years now.

A man,
Gun in hand,
Shaggy hair,
Determined face.

A man,
All in black,
Mask on face,
Metal arm.

My friend,
My foe,
My savior,
My killer.

I could never fight,
The one who gave me hope,
You gave me a chance,
Even when no one would.

I'm not gonna fight you,
I'm not gonna hurt you,
"Cuz I'm with ya till the end of the line,
Pal."

Now it's my turn to fall,
And your turn to watch,
Our turn all over again,
To watch in fear.

You gave me a life,
You gave me a brother,
You gave me a friend,
Why can't I return the favor?

You protected me,
I protected you,
You fought me,
I stayed with you.

From friend to foe,
We remain,
From friend to foe,
We stayed.
Inspired by Captain America First Avenger and Winter Soldier

— The End —