Posts Tagged ‘War’


Posted: April 21, 2020 in poems, POETRY, War
Tags: , , , , , ,
Photo by Alexander Mils on

Inspired by a dream but not my own

Running through the forest,
Spite the trees,
Felt like it was a hundred miles,
To do as we pleased,
She told me,
Kissing me,
“I wanna be free! To be!”
I thought she was mad,
Oh how I wished she was here now.

Buy a ticket,
To this one man show,
Oh dear soul,
Into space,
And enjoy the show,
That joy,
Oh Joy,
A rush,
Exploding freely,
That weight,
Heavy there,
On my chest,


Oh sons,
Oh daughters,
Oh century dead,
A million tears,
Blood on fields,
I’ve killed your mothers,
I’ve killed your fathers,
Oh distant,
Into battle,
About face!
You enemy of the state.



I killed the father,
Oh mercy be,
I killed the son,
Declared an enemy,
Though not to me,
I killed the Holy ghost,
It was of no use to them,
Or us,
I killed them all,
I torched their homes,
I did it all,
For God,
For Country,
I fucking killed them all.

For the weak,
Thou shall not kill?
Ground into dust,
Not even a thought,
That day,
They were my enemy,
According to objectives,
Drilled into my head.

Spare no mercy for they are not human,
Just faces,
No soul,
Enemies of the state,
To freedom,
And Democracy.

There across the ocean,
A billion miles from home,
I killed them all,
I do not know,
To give Coke,
Or Pepsi,
A new market place?

I laugh now,
Old age is killing me,
My soul,
Lost that same day,
I lie here,
Waiting for the grave,
Please father,
Forgive me,
For I have sinned…


All Quiet on the Western Front

Posted: August 18, 2019 in fiction, War
Tags: ,

In the morning hours, the witnesses to the horror awoke to the smashed and broken bodies blown across the fields.

At night, the guns fired off into the darkness, bombs exploding with glee, bodies flung into Heaven’s embrace, shattered into unrecognizable mess of gore.

Why do countries fight these never ending wars?

Why do human beings go off to die, for some unknown cause?



Misplaced honor?

The boys marched off into the war, their hearts full of duty and honor, some would come back men, others would come back dead.

My Dearest Brother,

I know it has been awhile since you have heard from me,
I know by now, you have received word of me,
About me,
I shall try to explain,
In my own words,
To you,
Dear brother.

Into the fires,
We found ourselves,
Victims to the falling bombs,
The exploding shells,
There in Hell,
On that Earth,
Some of us would die,
Into pieces,
Some of us would live,
All would be wounded,


That horrible word,
To hear,
Screamed across the Hell,
That horrible place,
Some would not hear that final bullet,
That finally canister,
That last breath,
Gasped away,
In Hellish haze.

I, my lord,
I would not die,
But lose a leg,
And an eye,
There in some field,
Not on a map,
Any that exist still to this day,
I lost my friend,
That battle,
To end that war,
It did not,
We still fight on,
Young men cried,
And died,
Never to see that blue sky of home again,
I would see,
Be pitied.
That I did not die,
OH brother,
My dear brother,
I remember that day,
It was a hard cold day,
In some trench,
I could hear the enemy breathing,
I could feel them bearing down on us,
Trench to trench,
Spearing them,
Our men,
I heard the first screams,
Terror filled screams,
Drifting through that field,
As if by the Gods,
An explosion ripped through us,
I felt something jab my leg,
Then nothing,
No sound,
Darkness there,
Sherman was there,
I felt his hands pulling me down the trench,
I figured this was death,
Rocks against my back,
Scraping the flesh from it,
With each pull,
I remember thinking,
“Am I in Hell?”

Dearest brother,
It has been almost a year from that day,
I find I am doing wonderfully,
Oh so the doctors say,
They write things down,
As my hearing is gone,
Except for a buzzing sound,
Which they say will go away,
I hear some words,
Like high pitch whines,
Tell Mother,
Her son has lost his leg,
Most of his hearing,
A twitch when he is touched,
Awakes the world with his screams,
As he is tormented in his dreams,
Oh my dear brother,
There is a Hell,
And I am here,
I shall never know that life,
That life of a father,
That life of a husband,
The first was taking with my cock and balls,
The second,
Dear Brother,
What woman would want a hobbling cripple,
Ugly even before war took his face,
Replaced it with some horrible demon’s?

I wish,
My friend,
I could be more positive,
I shall be home,
I will write more when I find out more,
Tell my Nora,
Beautiful Nora,
I think of her,
There in the field,
We met there as kids,
We pretended I was her hero,
Now, I am nothing but a soulless body walking through life,
Tell her,
She should find another hero,
One who can give her that life she deserves,
The husband who can provide,
I shall go now,
Send mother and father,
Oh god, my brother, what can I say to them?
Tell them, I love them.
Tell them, I am coming home.

Signed with love,

Photo by guille pozzi on Unsplash

Silently, and without caution, we moved through the night, stalking each other like wild animals through the plains, deserted, waiting for the rain which would never fall.

The wind, our friend, our companion, stuck to us as we moved along, our eyes peeled to the person in front of us, never looking away.

Johnny stood out in front; his body tense with each sound, we stuck to him like ants on glue.

We heard nothing; the night silent, hiding the facts of anything around us.

We marched slowly forward, to the sound of silence, each foot step a crinkle a thousand times louder in our head.

We did not know; that within the hour, half of us would be dead or dying, there on some freshly raked battle field, a battle that would not be written down in history books, not taught in schools, to wide eyed children, enthralled by it all.

The first shot, the one you never hear, struck Johnny.

We watched him fall, like a rock, hard to the ground, the blood, brains, hitting the few behind him; we all fell hard to the ground, crawling on our bellies, over the hill.

Photo by Scott Rodgerson on Unsplash

An explosion hit behind me; I couldn’t see anything, dirt and dust clouding my vision, I heard the screams mixed with my own voice; “Down!” I heard someone yelling; Samuel, I could only guess.

We fired back; unseen enemies, somewhere out there; their own fire flying over us, through us.

“Medic!!” I heard a voice scream.

A quick death was prayed for, if we should be hit.

The horrors not described by the teachers; by those recruiters, fight for your land, flashed by our eyes, to be burned into our minds.

Some of us would never return.

Those left alive, would return, not whole, parts gone; body parts ripped away, the mind scarred by those images thrown past us.

We would not be those recruitment posters; flashed up, to lead others into our place.

I survived, broken, part of my left arm gone, left in a field, second patrol, fifteen men that day were killed.

I guess I was lucky.


The term falls off my tongue, like poison, I heard that word a thousand times through my recuperation process; the medics, the nurses, the father, the son, the holy ghost.

Those fuckers could shove a grenade up their asses and pull the pin.

See how lucky they felt if they survived.

I was lucky, I guess, my friend Jackson, was hit in that part his girlfriend enjoyed the most on their dates; his manhood was taken, I guess he was lucky, though his girl friend dumped him upon reading his letter.

I was lucky; no girl before I left.

I wrote my sister who met me at the train station; she smiled.

“You look good Henry! Are you taller?” she said, hugging me.

“Maybe!” I said; feeling her squeeze me tightly.

Two weeks home; I felt a tightening in my chest; my fist grew into fists; laying there in the dark, flash backs; play backs, I guess, I heard the cries, the explosions.

“Down!” phantom voices screamed; the mortars rang out; silence, dust settling; I could see the faces of the dead; their eyes hanging from their sockets, arms, legs, hanging by thin threads.

The dead marched by.



Explosion nearby!

I screamed.

The house woke up, my mother rushed in, she saw the terror in my eyes.

She said nothing, held me tight, I shook in fear.

“The bombs bursting in air!! They lied!!” I screamed, over and over, as I had that night.

For hours; I shook, I cried, my mother held me.

“Henry don’t worry, I won’t ever let you go!” she said, quietly, my sister settled by me as well, hugging me.

Through the night; it went, and they sat there, protecting me the entire time.

War Pigs

The sirens are blaring;
The Generals are gathering;
The War Machine;
That evil plot;
Is grinding;
In the field,
The dead,
Are dying,
The babies,
Are crying,
The Good Guys,
March forward,
The Bad Guys,
The media heads,
Tell us,
We’re doing right,
Killing babies,
In the name of,
For Freedom,
Do not allow,
Them to grow up,
To become,
Even more.

The Machine,
Is plowing through the Evil men,
Who says they are evil?
The Talking Heads,
The Politicians,
Though they never will march,
For Freedom,
For Democracy,
Spreading the lies,
Spreading the hate,
Killing in the name of Peace,
Killing in the name of Jesus.

The Darkness,
Fills our minds,
Hate becomes rage,
Rage becomes bombs,
Dropping from the sky,
But by the War Machine,
They all must be punished,
For the Talking Heads,
For the Politicians,
They say,
We must,
We must,
For Democracy,
The price we pay,
The way we hate.

The sins of ourselves,
Cleansed by the raining bombs,
We bring peace,
Through those bombs,
“Thou shall not kill…”
Becomes muted,
With that War Machine,
Murder, death, kill,
Becomes Democracy!

To honor,
Goes death,
To the angry sea,
Our bodies were thrown,
To swarms of bullets,
Enemies only by the words of our leaders,
I need help,
I fear I will not honor that,
Our name,
In the honor that you gave it,
That first war,
Were you afraid as well,
Before the ramps went down?

War, that killer of youth,
Grand ideals,
Words on paper,
Thoughts in head,
A bullet ripping through flesh,
A young life taken,

Goodbye father,
I write this letter,
Before the wake,
A last will,
I guess,
For nothing left but that breath I take,
A whisper on the wind,
Bombs bursting in air,
To my mother,
I leave my blood upon the ground,
To my wife and unborn child,
I leave my soul,
And my love,
To the world I give all…

The lever was drawn back, pulling forward the craft through space. 

“Radio man?” Captain Clark yelled into the mouth piece, almost chewing it off its cable.

“Dead sir!” the answer came back, sparks flew throughout the cabin, Clark growled.

“Damn alien hoards!!! Surprise attack on a peace mission!?”

He pushed the lever even harder forward, the vessel pressing faster, in pursuit of the war bird who had just moments ago just attacked them.

“Captain, headquarters on the wire, they want us to pull back to base…”

He growled even louder, pulling back on the control, slowing the ship to an almost stand still.

“What for? They better have a good fracking reason!”

“Peace talks sir!”

He pounded his fist into the controls.

“Fuck!” the word slipped out, a word that was banned by 18 conventions of interplanetary alliances.

“Surely they got to be smoking some of that Martian weed pods?” he growled to himself.

The war, the latest batch of battles between Earth and the Gorgians, had been going on for a few life times, even before Captain Clark’s grandfather had been ship captain out here on the edges of the frontier.

He remember his first ship; The Bozeman, more of a freighter, drifting between Earth and the war birds sitting outside of Jupiter.

On his first voyage, his ship had been attacked, just like today, eleven crew dead, and the Planet Command had pulled the ships back from pursuit, peace talks.

It was always peace talks; five generations, maybe more, and he was sick of it.

He pushed the lever forward, speeding forward.

“Captain! We have our orders to return…”

He turned off the radio.

“Court martial me!” he said, separating his pod from the rest of the ship.  “I will take full responsibility for this!”

He felt the pod accelerate, moving faster, the star field sliding past his view, as his hands controlled the ship, close to its maximum tolerable speed.


Soon, he spotted the ship, and locked on with his weapons.

“Eat lasers!!” he screamed, firing into the ship, the aft end of the vessel exploding in the vacuum of space, if he could, he could hear the screams of those bastards as their bodies were ripped from their lives, their last breath!

This is what he was made to do, his mission.

He fired again, the entire ship exploding in a radium blast.

He grinned evilly as he let the pod come to a stop.

“Those bastards…”

His last words as he felt his ship first shudder and then explode from the impact of a Earth Federation laser shot into his hull.

“Sorry Captain, but, peace talks….” 

1940s-WW2-World-War-2-Combat-Double-Exposure-Odd-Vintage-Photo-Military-Men-Soldiers-Fire-ExplosionWe were standing at the wall,
When the world began to fall,
Where was the outrage,
When they died,
Those heroes,
With no lines,
In a song,
Just blood on the wall,
A name in a sheet,
Those heroes,
No names,
Not even a memory.

In this place,
We would fall,
To rot there,
Our souls lost,
Not even worth a mention,
Except that they gave all.

Their souls,
Wander that field,
Now a memory,
Of that battle,
A small ripple,
Somewhere in faraway time,
Couldn’t happen now,
The young think,
As did those youths back then,
The war to end all wars,
To be followed by another war,
To be followed…

To end all wars,
Is it a reality?

We jumped into madness, our eyes closed tight, the sparkles of the night filled our minds with the beauty that was not seen until it was too late.

“Who…” Charlie didn’t get to finish his question as a bullet ripped through his throat; he fell to the sand; no sound, just another body lying there, being trampled by the machine of war.

“Forward, ahead!” I ordered, jumping out of the vessel, feet planting hard on the soft ground. “Troop 9….”

We moved forward; the battle grew to a roar, our rifles rang out; blasts of light ripping into alien flesh.

“There!!” I roared sending an atomic grenade into a nest of the beasts.  “This is for Charlie!”

I felt my blood boiling; brewing, trying to keep in some sort of reality in this unreal moment, fighting aliens on their own planet.

I fired again; blasting the head off of the creature in front of me, their blood, green, rushing to the ground at my feet.

“Splug!”  I cursed, spitting on the creature, pushing further towards our goal, the city’s gate, their capitol, a golden city once in history, now in ruin from the constant bombardment we threw at it, trying to liberate it from these scum; our enemy in a 100 year war.

Hours later, we had the city in our palm; sweeping through the narrow streets, looking for the stragglers of resistance in the mud huts and brick halls, weaving in and out of a maze of corridors.

Ant-like beasts scuttled from one end of darkness into another; a blast from our rifles and they fell into a sleep they would never wake from.

A child; for lack of a better word, stood silently in the door way, eyeing us.

I opened fire; killing him as he stood there, he slumped down, a slight gurgle escaping his lips.

“Children grow into adults…” I told myself, shoving the body aside and entering the building. “Children grow into adults!”

Rest in peace,
Old men,
In war rooms,
Thousands of miles away,
Millions killed,
As they sleep in soft beds,
We sleep in mud,
They lay their heads on silken pillows,
Our heads lie on broken rocks.

— excerpt from ‘Last Words from a Soldier’s Diary’ by an Unknown Solider

Another day; on this shit hole planet, twenty eight hours in, no sleep, a can of cold beans, ration ships are late; are they even coming?

Headquarters in contact.

Still en route.

Always, seemingly, en route.

On guard; enemy spotted outside city, marching forward.

First wave — four of our men killed; I was asleep when I heard the screams.

On my feet; forward, fire, kill, or be killed.

Three hours – enemy dispelled, causalities fifteen troops; lost our communication specialist, rocket into the station he was broadcasting from.

Contact limited to HQ.

In need of support, ASAFP.

General orders received; hold city till further orders.

Next day; on patrol, mini fights throughout.

I try to sleep again; tucked inside a shell of a tank, my back push against the metal wall.

Six minutes; whole six minutes.

“We got our orders sir, we’re to pull back to rendezvous point charlie…”

“What?” I was rubbing my eyes; trying to stand.

“General orders sir, we’re heading off world, apparently it’s over…”

“The war??”

He nodded.

I pulled myself out, stood there staring into the sky, watching a ship landing somewhere outside of the city.

“What were we fighting for?” I said, mostly to myself.

He shrugged.

“Sir…” and before he said a word, a shot rang out, striking me in the head, my body fell to the ground, hard, but as the dead, I did not feel it, my soul was pulled back, a watcher of this scene…



A random poem while watching TV

In Wonderful Light,
Lifted up,
Into that life,
A magical time,
To see,
To hear,
To feel,
Explode out.

To wonder,
Creeping into
That madness,
Scream out,
To see,
That light,
In surreal boxes,
Heading out,

The magic lies,
In here,
Pointing to the mind,
June 5th,
Dates in the yellow paper,
Phone rings out,


Dead air,
Hang up,
Nothing but lies,
From that magic box…


Suicidal mania,
Jack was drinking,
Always drinking,
Mary was crying,
All alone,
Since 1969.

Buried him,
Grave situation,
He died,
Defending that,

Dancing slightly,
On a razor blade,
Creeping into my brain.

Drinks for everyone,
Half lies,
Drunkenly told,
In bright lights,
To live life,
All the way down,
Dropping out,
See the world?


Bombs lie,
Falling from the sky,
Creating the bodies,
Set adrift,
Imagine the children,
Dancing free,
Transported to,
That world?

Will we be murdered first?
Marched off to the trains?
By the colors of our eyes?

Only five of us made it to that last station,
He was the last to give up,
Laid into an unmarked grave,
Multiple laid,
No eyes to see,
No tongues to speak,
The soldiers laughed,
Tossing gold teeth,
Ripped from still screaming souls,
Mothers killed,
Children ripped from the corpses,
Thrown onto the tracks,


I wake.

To the new day.

To feel,
To see,
To hear,

To live another day…