Robin Bennett

Rookie (December 25th / New Orleans, La USA)

World War Iii - Poem by Robin Bennett

He woke angrily-
in his usual Henry VIII
sort of way
Chills breathe against
my bare neck;
past horrors of the guillotine.

I feel the trouble brewing,
stale coffee waiting
for a trigger happy start to WWIII
My eyes are tired from
another sunrise in captivity-
Left alone and bleeding dullness.

I drown in panic-
Water streaming from
the shower head, feels like poison from
the death camp gas chambers-

I crave freedom,
escape from your iron curtain-
or even a concrete German wall.
This crazy mind daydreams-
Let me take
to the air in
your Luftwaffe,
I'll fly to freedom-
while you lie dead
in a bunker, alone-
You coward.

Comments about World War Iii by Robin Bennett

  • Saadat Tahir (7/17/2012 4:33:00 PM)

    you have done justice to the topic by using decorative motifs from brought to mind all the olive hardware and streaming done
    the aura and ambiance is created to perfection....
    ratio and proportion creates a powerful image of tensions that reside deep within four walls of ones citadel.
    loved reading yer lines
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Poem Edited: Saturday, July 21, 2012

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