Fare and Potential

It was said poetry is
The now of people
World news
Local news
They are all poetry
Seeing the names
Of fallen soldiers
Younger than I
I think of those
Who I know
Fighting for me
Their families
Their friends
And I ask myself
What is more
Poetic than their sacrifice
Their lost potential
Of lost chances
Lost love
Lance Corporal
Brigadier
Staff Sergeant
Salutes of invisible
Visors, weapon hand
Extended. Do you know
Yourselves Can you see
Who you were and are now
In your far off places
Can you see your future
Fit upon a screen in memoriam
Set beneath silence
A name an age a line or two
Of your rank or honors
Does this fit your future
What you hoped for
Dreamed for
Lived for
Fought for
Died for?
We must come to see
A Society that has found
Peace with its self
That is what King said
Your dreams, are they for peace
Or continued blood shed

What is the purpose
Of those who fight
The fools who think
That death for their country is the death of the righteous
Yes poetry is of the now
Of the people
Of the times we live in
And the times I see
Are dangerous
Fearful
Zealous
What is left for poetry to speak than the anger that no others can feel than those left behind, or those lost. Tears and anger, depression and fear. Pride, yes even that
Soldiers are souls lost like the children of Darfur or of the streets they fight to protect. Death is there, at every moment, ready to take their hands and guide them off into the nothingness. What peace can there be, when we cannot accept our fate. We seek the distraction of separation. The remote belief it will not find our doorsteps. We can see then past it to what we want there to be, like our ancestors looked past their fires and then their lamps and swords.
Lance Corporal do you know your purpose
Were you wise, is that why you died, bringing that fear to the doorsteps back at home. Brigadier did you know that you would fall, those under you would as well. Did you want to die or did you want to live for the cause you were trained for.
Did you see the day
When your name would
Scroll from side to side
Telling the world you are no longer in it
Only the white on blue
Words that serve not as a reminder of your struggle and your fears
But the people that you tried to protect?

I can see my friends’ names there on the screen, even now as yours disappears, no they’re not dead, only ready to die, an image in my head. Captured by this moment of scarce obligory to put word to the notion of loss. Is it like the movies, or were your words lost before you could speak them
A finale set of lines
Like the villain presses to the hero before he finally dies.
Or the words of address of the hero, before he takes that final shot to kill his adversary.
No I can’t imagine it was so. Imagination does no justice to the experience of danger
Of war and combat.
What I don’t have to imagine is the pain here
In the world you have left behind. The fear of loss, the disappointment
That is captured in each father’s face who has lost a son or daughter. Each son or daughter who has lost a mother or father. Can we know what we are fighting for.
Is it what the prols think
Or the bourgs say? As
We ready our selves
For the new day, new president, new government
New brains and new generations peace will be pushed aside as the people have to conform the us to the change and to the reality of greed and piety so engrained in us.

Fare and Potential

XtomJames

Joined November 2007

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  • maka1967
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