Mario Albert Cepeda

World Braves Won

Courage dare supersede death, unlike other emotions,
whose policy is, don't hold your breath.

Courageous battles fought, soldiers on soil from oceans brought
with them no regret for this enormous moral debt.

War Wing on wire, conspired
Remembering days, his radio flyer!
Had raced around a jet;
Never to forget.

Sleek, a silhouetted dark side fraught with explosions;
for sun drenched, embedded, expressed notions.

Bravery in heart, is more than any weapon, or shield can
guard. Don't forget! You're are expected to motion.

Angels gather near, no doubt; born to wings, higher.

When everyone around US desires our slow demotion;
an avalanche is already at their yard; mired.

There is only a slight difference in who we all are;
so refrain from your trained imitations of Hedy Lamarr.
She was a shooting star,
nearly greater than any by far.
They watched her on silver screen,
Having to leave before the part,
Where she was given her close up scene;
because them nerve rattled gunners
Down from the bar, hurried by, giving steam.

During crispy cold morning,
embraced by long shafts of icy light,
given their obedience, not to be straggle boots,
camped close to a river,
a twig snapped below someone's foot;
with all eyes quickly turned to know,
hoping would be friend; not foe.

An air raid alarm sounded forlornly;
like a wailing demon's fright,
noises submerged within each troop
called to duty as givers
of more than just this fighting group;
'yond these flames that grow;
for love of God's gracious Soul.

Mass bombardments, where once were civilizations with governments,
where hearts merged in merriment; were filled to their eyes with cries:
Praying it would never reach their shores;
slithering trenches, down holes,
tunnels,
in through many doors
malaria bitten
hallucination ridden;
simultaneous to thunderous scroll
written ancient years ago
told those tribulations
of wars, famines and woes.

Then slowly, CHOPPER BLADES reminded them,
being relieved of combative obligation,
they would be heading home soon.
Seeing the aftermath from above,
gently as they passed white doves,
whose flock melded into a smoke red, harvest moon;
finally their battle scarred romance was swooned
with a proud exclamation! ,
about what everything meant;
to go to war,
for God, Country
and so much more.

Years later, recalling clear
how they guarded infantry rear.
Decades moving on,
another account, another beer.
Their stories grafted within me, from listening long,
deep inside my ears.

(God Bless US All)

Poem Submitted: Monday, November 9, 2009
Poem Edited: Tuesday, November 10, 2009

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