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Literature Text
It's hard to find the quiet in a battlefield,
when you're still alive.
In my cockpit, the engines hum,
turrets belch their wretched might.
The radio screams and all I see
Is black mixed in with white
In the trench below the mortars roar,
reign down on fools who ran.
In my hands I've all the tools,
with which to kill a man.
Beneath my hands, a writhing mess
a soldier who will not return.
His heart pumps blood right through the gauze,
so hot on my skin, it burns.
On the hill I stand to watch my men,
close my eyes as each lays down to sleep.
Cringe when I think of the words I'll say
to the mothers I know will weep.
It's hard to hear the silence on the battlefield,
so hard until I lie,
alone, awake, with eyes up high.
Feel the bullet lodged inside my lungs
fill up with broken sky.
It's hard to find the quiet in a battlefield
until we're no longer alive
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If you favorite, please please comment! I get back to everyone!
This poem had a lot more feeling, I think, than Fields of France, which I wrote earlier today. I don't know why, but talking to a new writing acquaintance made me want to try getting a bit more poetry done today.
Each stanza of this poem is from a different perspective. The Pilot, the Soldier, the Medic, the Colonel, and an unnamed protagonist. I think that writing poetry based on characters (such as the Medic, who already has his own poem), is a great tool for me. For this poem, I wanted to show from each perspective what each of the different types of soldiers has to deal with on the battlefield, particularly the incidents that cause them trauma and distress. Don't know why that's such a fascination of mine. I'd also like to stress that I'm not a depressed person, and my rather solemn poetry and prose is in no way a reflection of some terrible emotional malady I'm going through. Not in the least.
Thanks for reading!
This poem had a lot more feeling, I think, than Fields of France, which I wrote earlier today. I don't know why, but talking to a new writing acquaintance made me want to try getting a bit more poetry done today.
Each stanza of this poem is from a different perspective. The Pilot, the Soldier, the Medic, the Colonel, and an unnamed protagonist. I think that writing poetry based on characters (such as the Medic, who already has his own poem), is a great tool for me. For this poem, I wanted to show from each perspective what each of the different types of soldiers has to deal with on the battlefield, particularly the incidents that cause them trauma and distress. Don't know why that's such a fascination of mine. I'd also like to stress that I'm not a depressed person, and my rather solemn poetry and prose is in no way a reflection of some terrible emotional malady I'm going through. Not in the least.
Thanks for reading!
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Oh dear, this is simply amazing, i love the perspectives, amazing...