August 19 - September 17,2013
Blood and Cordite
Jerked awake by bedlam
Noise
Chaos
As I heard men shouting
INCOMING INCOMING
Explosive bangs as the mortar rounds fell to the ground
Acrid smoke drifting through the air
Blurring my eyes as I tried to find my way
My very senses attacked by the smell and noise
INCOMING
TAKE COVER
The barrack's aisle jammed by panicked boy-men
Shoving their way through the narrow slit of a door
Scrambling to the bunkered safety
Naught but a few hundred yards away
The explosions slowly receding as I exited the nearly deserted building
The stench of cordite heavy in the air
Tho' as my feet touched the concrete walkway
I was drawn by the sound of a gurgled moan
Turned and saw a man sprawled awkwardly
At the corner of our building
His life pulsing from his shrapnel torn ravaged throat
As three or four of us
Who had not yet reached the bunkers
Ran to where he lay writhing
Ghost like under the pale street light
To comfort as best we could
Watching in silence as one older wiser
Tried frantically to stem the tide
With the barrel of his pen as a stop gap measure
The torn artery slippery
Evasive
His desperate attempts hauntingly unsuccessful
As he screamed in rage and frustration
Knowing he could not save him
While we knelt helpless
Touching holding the dying man as he slowly bled out
His gaze seemingly calm as he looked around
And felt my eyes burning as he saw through me
Standing silent
Numb
Isolated
Frozen
His haunting look forever in my mind
His breaths shallower and shallower
Until he breathed no more
His eyes once full of life
Suddenly dull
As we stood in shock at his passing
The night air humid fetid silent
My pulse pounding
And my heart felt it would explode
As I struggled to make it through the sullen day
Rasping from the thick smoke
Drifting thru from burning aircraft not that far away
His passage fresh in my mind
Tho' then I did not know
How many years he would remain
Later that day when finally released
I returned wearily to my bunk
Glancing left as I slowly lay down
Suddenly instantly awake
Shocked by the two jagged holes
A scant inch above my head
Not there the night before
My gut contracting as I knew deep inside
The tiny shards of metal that shot though the fragile wood
Were of the same round that killed earlier
Shivers coursing down my spine
Knowing but for that smidgen of an inch
Death went wanting as he swiftly passed by
Not long after Easter morn
Tommy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem