My wife doesn’t read my poems
Unless I write on light, airy, happy things
I really don’t blame her
She was there in the dark times
And watched me live through them
She doesn’t enjoy watching
Me rip open old wounds
To see if the maggots
Are still lingering inside
She doesn’t know
The names of my demons
But she knows their sounds-
A scream out from my sleep
She knows how they feel-
As I alternate between clawing at her
And pushing her out of bed
To get her down
Below the line of fire
Another soldier to save
From the deadly battlefield
She knows the demon’s shape and smell-
I’m suddenly upright at 3AM
Stagnant and salty in my cold sweat
I dreamt again of the day I stood up tall
Atop the armored vehicle
To prove that it was safe
To get everyone to stop firing
To try and get a grip on
Indiscipline driven by fear
Exposing myself yet again
Because someone needed
To calm the panic
Of overactive imaginations
And that task fell to me
Because it was my responsibility
To assess the risks
And to get the job done
Sometimes in my dream
The sniper IS still there
And I’m wrong in my assessment
So I don’t walk away
After standing up
To get everyone’s attention
Instead of being in charge
Of evacuating the wounded
In this dream, I’m on the ground
At the Casualty Collection Point
And Doc Turner is trying
To get the bleeding stopped
As the demons circle round me
I hate being wrong
And not being in control
Then suddenly I’m bolted awake
Sitting upright in a cold sweat
And I can feel the maggots
Crawling around under my skin
And I’m never completely sure
If this means the wounds are rotten
Or if this is medicinal-
The eating away of dead flesh
So that only living remains.
The Warhorse
Through the window, at a distance, I saw him today
As he meandered aimlessly in fields of weeds and clover —
Moving as one unsure of what would happen next,
Unsure if the danger of battle was truly over.
He bore the scars of a life lived- hard and full and well,
As only can be found in draft animals in service to the state;
Taught by unforgiving moments to think and plan for the worst
While carrying upon his sagging back the burdens of duty and chaos and fate.
When the thunder comes, the warhorse must run to the sound of the guns,
Remaining stalwart in the pell-mell charge of animals and men against fire;
Despite fear and fury, if the animal-instrument fails in battle just once
Then comes the flailing upon flanks and withers scarred by national ire.
Today the destrier, once a fine sleek stallion, now worn and old,
Gelded by the chaffing of time and burden, finding his days of service through;
And must create a new life and status in the field or the range or the stable,
Else the groom decide the warhorse worthless, short of factory and glue.
I catch my breath and realize —
No image through glass pane I see;
But reflections in a silvered mirror,
For that old warhorse is me.
Under Pressure
Running away,
Hiding in squares,
Churches, attics,
Cemetery, trunks,
The crawl spaces
Under the stairs.
Lungs burning,
Electrocuted,
Pressure boiling
Like kettled air,
Forced through
Narrow confines.
The wheezing,
Sharp whistle of
Ghosts escaping
Seeping sucking
Chest wounds.
Gases expelled,
Corpses return,
Of pleural space
to Earth and sky.
Pews, headstones,
Boxes and rooms.
Heart chambers.
But round flesh
Cannot conform
To hard corners,
The rigid edges,
Or square spaces
Of men we love.
Click
A three second video,
Of kids in Tal Abyad,
Today, daring to peek,
From behind the wall,
Towards the smoke,
Linked on twitter,
Where we are safe,
Off the news pages,
With the banners,
Waving- Warning!
Disturbing Images!
You can click to open,
Or to make it go away.
But that’s not a choice,
For kids in the street,
Who have to know,
Who died today,
Who cannot go,
CLICK.
The Meaning of Words
The SDF who fought ISIL,
Are now called terrorists.
State news said “neutralized”
When 300 Kurds massacred.
A bloody military invasion
Is “establishing a safe zone.”
14 Kurdish cities- “liberated”-
Are now under foreign rule.
Turkey’s nemesis in Pakistan
Offers Erdogan his “full support.”
NATO urges Turkish “restraint”
The Arab League urges the UN.
The EU cries refugee “blackmail,”
But 6B euros to keep them out.
DoS hasn’t seen “significant”
Examples of ethnic cleansing.
Doctors without borders, fled.
100,000 civilians “displaced”
To join the already 700,000
Requiring food aid in N. Syria.
Operation Peace Spring
Is a bottomless well of war.
Because there is no meaning
Left in the words of men.