kokopelle | Entries tagged with war

The poem “Sole Survivor” started out as a single quatrain that I struggled to expand upon. I then was struck with the idea of an empty future, the result of an apocalyptic war between dreams and fears.

Sole Survivor

There the future stood alone
sole survivor of the war
absent companions now deceased
not forgotten though they’re gone
the conflicts have no prisoners
only a victor with mortal wounds
residing above the battlefield
too tired to stir from living tombs

between the fears of the past
juggernauts without peer
battling ghosts of dream’s empire
the gilded soldiers of imagery
those dominions were the jewels
hills and dales with beauty's brush
imagination spilled upon the world
by the virtue of romantic fools

it’s not for love they persevere
instead the cause looks to the stars
beyond the shells that strain to live
the quest is for reverie
a yearning of what could be
whispered to the wind to hear
while the storm mutes their voice
a rival born from shadow’s curse

from the well deep within
spinning lies that tear the truth
fragments torn from the light
buried in the dark abyss
resurrected into dread
terror twisted to dismay
apprehension is enough
to defy ambition’s goals

in the end the forces met
gave no quarter in response
strengths applied to weak points
seeking conquest no matter what
extermination became the path
leaving none to stand aside
the lone figure left behind
a future numb to nothing else.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180612.

Current Mood: contemplative

I don't listen to the news, not even NPR. I seem to get my full of “news” by observing the pages of my FB friends. Sadly I see only the extremes of stories, ongoing conflicts that build upon history, each bloody day creating new fodder. “Frightened Felines” is a sideways glance at the culture and political wars prevalent in social media.

Frightened Felines
Poem for Day 127 – 20150507

A hundred cats running in directions separate,
each on its way, surety in kind,
a hundred outcomes, each an answer,
no single direction agreed on.
See the felines, victims all,
conspiracies inflected on each,
scramble for cover, duck and weave,
weaponize for action retaliatory.

When the hammer is the answer,
to subjugate errant concerns,
who will be the nail, the one to bang,
when those in the right are the tool?
All are soldiers, mix in the generals,
form the armies, battle the only tool,
to war is the only apparent outcome
when the hammer is the answer.

Foundation be damned, center be cursed,
cohesion is the glue most evil
that holds together a sad world
ready for a firm guiding hand.
When the solution is destruction,
removal of discordant the only path,
what is left in the resulting dust,
will the center hold together?

No prisoners taken, no truce flags honored,
the best enemy is a dead one,
under the hammer, tool at hand,
world made better without the likes of you.
Field of corpses, cats of all stripes and shades,
laid down by the righteous, honor intact,
as the wind whispers to deaf ears,
tears invisible to blank eyes, a eulogy of the right.

Truce in the war, allow the dust to settle,
imposed by lack of combatants,
the cause continues ever on,
but there is no one left to fight.
The center is no more, survivor scattered to the wind.
Cats have their ways, imposed solitude.
No middle ground, save a place for corpses,
when the center fails for frightened felines.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved

Current Mood: contemplative

Battle lines are necessary in conflicts for rights and respect. The outcome is sometimes justice. Other times it is a comedy of the ironic. I was reminded of this in a shared meme that focused on the shirt worn by the scientist who landed a spacecraft on a comet. The shirt featured a semi-nude female. The shirt was designed by a female friend. The scientist was receiving condemnation for wearing a shirt that he SHOULD HAVE KNOWN would be harshly judged. It didn't matter what he did. It only mattered what he wore the shirt. They say he asked for condemnation because of what he wore. Irony yes? Righteous battle is difficult. Honorable battle is almost impossible. Today's poem is a parable about a battle in which pursuing the right leads to an horrific end.

The Gray of War
Poem for Day 054 – 20141116

I say back.
You say white.
Battle lines drawn.
Compromise gone.
I am in the right,
and you are in the wrong.

How did we arrive here?
Too much pain sustained.
Too many sleights imposed.
Enough is enough.
You will no longer be unopposed.
The battle has begun.

We will assume the enemy's ways.
It worked for them, it will work for us.
Their tactics were brutal,
our version is necessary.
Fire will fight fire.
Have no fear, this is only temporary.

Take no prisoners says the leaders.
Maximum casualties are guaranteed.
There will be no wounded.
Scorched earth will be the policy.
Our dead speak in united congregation.
We must exact your extermination.

The day ends,
our work is done.
Justice has been granted,
and we must have won.
So says mute testimony by the departed.
Sadly there is no one left to bury the dead.

I was black,
and you were white.
You were my enemy,
and I was yours.
Now we are no more, our blood is one,
and all that is left is the gray of war.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

Current Mood: contemplative

Wreckage

Twisted metal heavily rusted
with sleek lines long worn smooth.
Deadly instruments of war
lay neutered in the fields.

They attacked all those years ago.
We were instant victims,
no hope for victory
in the face of our new masters.

Broken glass
metal sheets
plywood and plastic
our homes now stand.

Into this world I step anew,
called to fight for freedom.
Into the breach I walk,
my Destiny booms aloud.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

Current Mood: awake

So I was driving to work this morning. I listened to a bit of NPR before I popped in my current book-on-tape for my forty minute commute. Evil snickers and cackles ensued. The segment was about the upcoming debate on non-binding House measure regarding the Iraqi war. The Republicans had the balls to say that they were "excluded from the debate". OMG. Political karma at it's best.

Just now I found the following snippet while poking around MSN.com:

Each of the House's 435 members and five delegates will be allotted five minutes to speak on the issue. Democratic leaders said Monday they planned to restrict members to a single vote by week's end, barring any amendments or a GOP alternative — a tack Republican leaders decried as unfair.

"After promising to make this Congress the most open and honest in history, (House Speaker) Nancy Pelosi has effectively shut out both Republicans and Democrats from substantively debating the most important issue of our time," said Rep. John Shadegg, R-Ariz.

Rich... I am so glad I'm not listening to political news nowadays... my funny bone couldn't take the stress.

Current Mood: amused

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Journey to Ixtlan

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Entries tagged with war

Poem - Sole Survivor

Poem - Frightened Felines

Poem - The Gray of War

Poem - Wreckage

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