#wartime
we are not all going to die.
a draft will never hit our home
the TV will always be on, but
we will never be alone.
i write to dress the aching wounds
of the impending fantasy of a wartime
or rather a sickening anxious nightmare
of what cause
of what cause is it for?
is it to tear all of our teens to shreds on a dusty battlefield
while those who stay work our fingers bare?
fighting for a piece of colored fabric and glory that was never there?
the war will only hurt this broken world
and they say we will die american deaths.
someone pulled the bathtub stopper for
the liquid love in our hearts is gone,
and yet
the TV is always on.
Jun 21, 2025
Jun 21, 2025 at 10:21 PM UTC
The wind bellows:
Unrelenting, pounding, cold.
A dog barks, sending sharp shivers down my spine.
Lying on my front my nose presses against the mud, It's earthy smell filling my nostrils.
Footsteps quicken; voices rise, the taste of salty sweat on my brow.
They've found me.
Reaching for my revolver I grasp it firmly, assured at last.
A single shot fires, it's echoes piercing the night as the thirsty ground soaks up my blood.
Mar 29, 2021
Mar 29, 2021 at 7:38 AM UTC
Where the dead lie the flowers grow,
The trees shoot tall and the winds blow.
Resting in their eternal peace,
Memories live on and never cease.
Weathered stone and faded names,
At home, broken pictures in broken frames.
The woosh of an aeroplane flys overhead,
To honour their sacrifice and salute the dead.
For they have died so we might be free,
Lives lost inland and those at sea.
For we recall all that they gave,
As we whisper quiet prayers beside the grave.
Mar 29, 2021
Mar 29, 2021 at 5:18 AM UTC
Dunkirk 1940.
Clive died there
on the beach.
I remember
the last night
we had together
before he went off
with his regiment.
I had given
my maid
the night off
so we could be
alone together.
We made love
a few times
then talked
then slept.
After the War Grace
he said
we must marry
and settle down
and have a family.
But he died.
I lay here now
in the hospital
blind and
without legs
and left only
the memories
of Clive and I.
Anthony and Guy
visited today
they said Philip
had gone on business
for the government
and would see me
later in the week.
I sat in wheelchair
as they spoke outside
in the afternoon sun
trying to picture
Anthony as he spoke.
I'd only met him
a few times before.
Guy was his usual self
boastful humorous
full of his
upper-class jokes.
Now they have gone
and I am here alone.
The memory
of Clive chokes.
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 7:52 AM UTC
Take this string in your hand
Let it guide you away
Past the boats, past the ships
So we can go and play
Let us forget about the blood shed
Each and every cry
All those we have mourned
All the sons that have died
Let us sink into our beds
Fall into a deep slumber
Reach into rustic coffins
Blood has soaked the lumber
Let bomb shells be lullaby's
Because this is ending fast
I'm sorry sweety, I need to go
There is but one more draft
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
Come to me great entangler of speech, until the mouth
is a thicket of word mash, you
who rakes strain out of the day to day visions.
Four nights last week you came in the dream-sweeps
flying at forty-one thousand feet. Encrusting this crimson suitcase of blood production with aurulent Trojan footstep rumbles in the hundreds of thousands.
Are you the new blues guitar, the trill bliss in satirical Dutch painting;
you who wrestles the languages of sleep. To get to keep you we'd **** all mystical beasts, sew treason, and wait naked for the dead things to come.
Remoteness in the time of the lonely.
Where you shed shivers of sharks
In wild dance and wicked tantrum, lilting
Beside the androgyny of days and Time.
You the dashboard Jesus of sin and canter.
No scurrying footsteps to barge the heavy moods of ****** or abscess.
In half breaths you weaponize yourself,
A take of drink and then with the rest of the aves,
Swallowed by the colossus of entanglement,
Taken beneath the blue awning amidst the company of the sea.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
I feel at one with sweethearts
Through the years,
With the wartime lovers
Who went overseas,
All the shattered hearts,
All the rivers of tears,
I feel them all.
Verses of love,
Lovers who must part,
Portraits of love
Worn so very close to the heart,
All the lovers lost,
Loves that never even start,
I feel them all.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 2:01 AM UTC
Oh heart,
You have been in pain.
For all this time.
You ache everyday,
As the war goes on.
Fear thee not,
Thy scorn will be venged.
When your mate of fire.
Comes to your bend.
Fear not my love,
My heart of Desire.
Your love will come,
He will be engulfed.
In healing Fire.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
Heart of desire..
You fear not.
For thy war,
Has commenced.
Heart of all,
Deserver of love.
Deceived is thee.
Heart of desire,
Triumphant and Willed.
You have become,
Quite skilled.
Heart of Desire,
Doth not fear.
Your mate,
Fire.
Will always be there.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 9:48 AM UTC