Author Topic: Jarhead's Poetry Corner  (Read 1828 times)

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Online Jarhead0331

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Jarhead's Poetry Corner
« on: February 01, 2016, 07:08:05 PM »
Bringing back this old thread from the dead.


Quote
My Symbol

I had a dream near 3 AM that crashed into my night
A multitude of warriors standing in full sight
On their anguished faces were grim and hateful glares
They wore Marine Corps blouses yet all they did was stare
I saw the wounds of Belleau Wood
I saw the scars of Guam
The dead were there of Heartbreak Ridge
and a company from 'Nam
Then one spoke out and asked me a question loud and strong
"Can they burn the flag we died for? How can it not be wrong?"
I did not have an answer to ease their angry pain
I could only give excuses for a country gone insane
I saw the flag on Iwo just before I died
I saw that lead-pole lifted where the flag was safely tied
I know it's just a symbol that flies about our grave
but let it be a symbol of what these men and I gave
With that the dream was over
and I awoke with fear and shame
to think a fool can trample the flag that bears our name.
Grogheads Uber Alles
Semper Grog
"No beast is more alpha than JH." Gusington, 10/23/18


Online Jarhead0331

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Re: Jarhead's Poetry Corner
« Reply #1 on: February 01, 2016, 07:09:28 PM »
Quote
Ma'

He followed the crown of the road
A strong and knowing youth
Who would never tramp the ditches as smarter men were won't to do

He was young and desperately anxious
to hold his place in the ranks
of hard-bitten men
who played a wicked, vicious game.

Boy-like, he wanted a place among them
sought their recognition

A small group of two or three un-tried men
New to the front...like him
followed closely at his heels
half fearful of the risks they took

They tried to cover their nervousness and
Lack of proper training
with a sneering, cocky smile
at men who hugged the earth
and stayed down low along the road

Here was leadership in youth
Green, un-tried
not yet fully feathered
just a spirit that said to the men around him
"Follow Me!"

Officer material?

Yes.
Had he had time and luck and some of living
He was the type
who leads a desperate charge and cannot tell you why
He just leads

His manhood ordered it so

And there the shell burst got him
fully erect
walking purposefully along a smoky ridge so far away from home

There was a reeking flash
a swift, sharp detonation
he sprawled
half pillowed on the shoulder of the road

Things were passing quickly.

There was surprise and
shock and
wonderment and
a bit of boyhood groping back

He half spoke
forcing his voice
and said aloud, "Ma!"

The strength to speak was not fully there.

In the instant left to him
came realization
and he said goodbye-
to life
in high-pitched tribute
forced to speak out
the thought closest to his dying heart

He screamed it loudly

Just once...

"Maaa!"

Grogheads Uber Alles
Semper Grog
"No beast is more alpha than JH." Gusington, 10/23/18


Online Jarhead0331

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Re: Jarhead's Poetry Corner
« Reply #2 on: February 01, 2016, 07:10:35 PM »
Quote
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering,choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.

- Wilfred Owen

Grogheads Uber Alles
Semper Grog
"No beast is more alpha than JH." Gusington, 10/23/18


Offline GJK

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Re: Jarhead's Poetry Corner
« Reply #3 on: May 14, 2016, 09:33:25 PM »
Good stuff!  I need to find my old journals that have my poetry written in them.  That was from such a long time ago and though my ego may say "silly boy", the inner child of me says "it will always be a part of you". 
Clip your freaking corners!
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Online Jarhead0331

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Re: Jarhead's Poetry Corner
« Reply #4 on: August 19, 2019, 02:26:29 PM »
its been awhile...

Quote
The Soldier is Home

Weary is he, and sick of the sorrow of war,
Hating the shriek of loud music, the beat of the drum;
Is this the shadow called glory men sell themselves for?
The pangs in his heart they have paled him, and stricken him dumb!
Oh! yes, the soldier is home!

Still does he think of one morning, the march and the sun!
A smoke, and a scream, and the dark, and next to his mind
Comes the time of his torment, when all the red fighting was done!
And he mourned for the good legs he left in the desert behind.
Oh! yes, the soldier is home!

He was caught with the valour of music, the glory of kings,
The diplomat’s delicate lying, the cheers of a crowd,
And now does he hate the dull tempest, the shrill vapourings —
He who was proud, and no beggar now waits for his shroud!
Oh! yes, the soldier is home!

Now shall he sit in the dark, his world shall be fearfully small —
He shall sit with old people, and pray and praise God for fine weather;
Only at times shall he move for a glimpse away over the wall,
Where the men and the women who make up the world are striving together!
Oh! yes, the soldier is home!

Simple, salt tears, full often will redden his eyes;
No one shall hear what he hears, or see what he sees;
He shall be mocked by a flower, and the flush of the skies!
He shall behold the kissing of sweethearts — close by him, here, under the trees —
Oh! yes, the soldier is home!

John Shaw Neilson
Grogheads Uber Alles
Semper Grog
"No beast is more alpha than JH." Gusington, 10/23/18