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Trained for Dying

crawling on my belly
as low to the ground
as one could get, my crotch
poked by rocks, camouflaged
by fatigues and mud
like a chameleon, but slithering
more like a salamander, glistening
beneath the tracer fire above,
and live rounds like tornado bees
whizzing by my ears

I am beneath a web of barbed wire,
the kind no spiders
would make their traps,
but a trap it is,
the heavy helmet scrapes it,
the only visuals you see
is dark grass fervently tickling
at the nose, and puddles…
I know there is a goal to this,
some sort of finish line,
but, it seems miles away,
what destiny awaits dragging by fear
and tense-pained shoulders,
crawling, ever crawling…
I know I am already dead
even if I make it,
the M50 blazes like a mad
and chattering epileptic,
foaming smoke in the air
like a fog of the mental
fixation, but, without euphoria,
incessant and demanding
my death,
an instantaneous pride,
once it is all over,
having finished the brutal course,
and, a realization comes over me,
that no matter what side you are on
you are the enemy….

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Bah Bah black Sheep- A hippie, rebel, highly individual. While loving creativity I have always done battle with the practical/impractical aspects of life. Sitting here in my aerie observing the world, the stars above and the other pinpricks below..
Been writing poetry since I was 14, now 62

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Comments

  • CLiPiCs
    CLiPiCsalmost 5 years ago

    fabulous write and the poignant words “that no matter what side you are on
    you are the enemy….” exposing the futility of war

    masterful piece,

    (and yes I know sometimes fighting is necessary)

    Love ‘N’ Laughter Kriss

  • I was thinking about parts of my experiential life and this came vividly to mind. I went into the Service as a hippie and it was against all of my principles, but, I felt I still had a duty to my country, but, like you said, I did see the “futility” of it and the way we tend to see war as a way to reduce the population or to make money on death…it has always haunted me

    – mychaelalchemy

  • noinvisiblehand
    noinvisiblehandalmost 5 years ago

    “the M50 blazes like a mad
    and chattering epileptic,
    foaming smoke in the air
    like a fog of the mental
    fixation, but, without euphoria,
    incessant and demanding
    my death, "

    Wonderful writing. Mychael. I’ve never experienced war, but this poem makes me feel its essence.

  • war is hell, quite literally…caused by greedy power struggles, religion, land-ownership, territory disputes and political madness….

    – mychaelalchemy

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