Remnants of our tattered flag
flutter in the putrid air.
I light a smoke and take a drag
to snuff the stench of burning hair
and bloated bodies young and fair.
How lucky are the dead.
Once proud we marched in serried ranks
past cheering crowds of citizens,
who loved our guns and rugged tanks.
But glory goes to he who wins.
There is no praise for could-have-beens,
or those who fled.
Our general's maps and battle plans
are trampled on the bloody plain,
where now our wounded raise their hands
to beg for life as they are slain.
and here I wait my turn, in pain
and mounting dread.
What is it that we battled for--
our country's honor, wealth and power;
a jug of wine, a genial whore
my mama's smile? See here, a flower!
I piss in terror while I cower
listening for the death squad's tread.
flutter in the putrid air.
I light a smoke and take a drag
to snuff the stench of burning hair
and bloated bodies young and fair.
How lucky are the dead.
Once proud we marched in serried ranks
past cheering crowds of citizens,
who loved our guns and rugged tanks.
But glory goes to he who wins.
There is no praise for could-have-beens,
or those who fled.
Our general's maps and battle plans
are trampled on the bloody plain,
where now our wounded raise their hands
to beg for life as they are slain.
and here I wait my turn, in pain
and mounting dread.
What is it that we battled for--
our country's honor, wealth and power;
a jug of wine, a genial whore
my mama's smile? See here, a flower!
I piss in terror while I cower
listening for the death squad's tread.
A contest entry
- The Darkest of the Dark [a prewrite contest] by DeadlyPoetic88.
695 points, ended February 23, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Write a modern classic war poem. by BabyBun.
700 points, ended February 26, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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Modern? Classic?
It's war, clearly and brilliantly depicted.
Honor, wealth and power?
Or the 'everlasting bliss of death'?

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A brilliant write on the ordinary soldier who has to do the dirty job of fighting and dying without even sometimes knowing why. It is timeless, could be any war, under any flag. Very well done.
Sheila
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I like the form, the rhythm, the story, the rhyming technique, pretty much everything here. Realistic imagery of the violence and despair of war - and the remnants thereof.
Reminds me of a song/poem; 'And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda' by Eric Bogle.
Best wishes
JK


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You are no better a writer than I.
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Spoken well
written divinely. This spoke to me of someone who was left confused while in the midsts of fear with some semblence of clarity. How honorable to, in spite of it all, to be able to questions one's position. This shows the saddness of a beaten soul and although the list of thoughts as to what was the point is not a pleasant one, is a bottom line after all, our freedom does include these things, does it not? -
Wow this is brilliantly pitched and wonderfully rhymed. Impressive poetry - I thank you for entering.
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ugh, fantastic agony. the writing is superb! I have no critiques for you.


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this is really good, it makes me feel like i am an innocent person stuck in the middle of a war i don't understand, it's very powerful stuff, great work, best of luck in the contest


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well written i really liked the first stanza. it captured my attention right away
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This is an extremely dark poem. It could represent the losing side in any war. It is a top notch piece of poetry.
Great job.
Mike

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Oh this is such a dark piece with so much sad truth in it.
The flow to this is wonderful. You have penned the glory and the pain, but ibn the end it's the pain of the piece that I was left with.
Excellent write.
Best wishes in the contest.
Gaylene


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This is a gorgeous poem in the same way a sunken Spanish galleon in tropical shallows could be a beautiful sight to behold. The construct is beautiful in spite of the beast at the center of the mechanisma.
Your technical expertise is definitely on display here and the poem should stand the test of literary critique well. Your only poetic liberty is with the word "seried", I think, but it is self-explanatory and perhaps ought to be added to the general lexicon.
The poem doesn't specify who's flag is tattered... I'd like to think, perhaps naively, that at least with regard to the United States, our wars, skirmishes and other conflicts have been necessary expeditures and not casual exercises of slaughter-for-sport or mindless adventures in conquest. I'd like to believe that our leadership has acted with a sober, deliberate intent on behalf of the best interests of the world.
The thrust of your poem reminds me of the movie "Gladiator", where Marcus Aurelius confides in his fictional successor, Maximus, questioning what his (Marcus's) own motivations were behind his foray into Gaul and how his legacy might be perceived in the future.
"What is it that we battled for--
our country's honor, wealth and power;
a jug of wine, a genial whore..."
Powerful!


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Thanks Jim. Thanks to your comment I realize I misspelled the word "serried." It was a sloppy mistake; I hate when that happens.
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To my chagrin, I have heard of the word "serried" before, but it was getting dusty in my rarely used words bin. I was thinking along the lines of my old National Guard unit... Company B, Battalion Three, 126th Infantry... all the units are serialized or serial numbered or, for lack of a better word, seried!
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Powerful work my friend. Bravo!


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Which war? Any war, all wars. A very moving write of truth. Very well done
Sheila


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This is indeed a dark poem. It captures one of the aftermaths of war that we rarely think of, and presents opposing images that add to the tension of the write. The solemn beat, and the shorter final lines of each stanza but the last, sound like muffled drums to me.
Mission accomplished, poet.
I had to look up 'serried', but I'm happy with the 'series' image as you used it. Maybe 'could-have-beeens' needs the hyphens - I'm not sure.

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War is Hell...
So is being wounded and left to die. Words fail me now after reading this poem, as I am stunned speechless in the horror of the reality of it all. Wishing you all the best, and take care.
Peace always, xx Cyn


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