I learned to know the voice
Of Walter Concrete
Right next to the grainy grays
of Space transmission of Spindly
Lunar Model and kangaroo bounce of
Astronaut
The static and beep punctuating
Genesis story from Space
Slow passing craters in white glow
Soggy craters in tropical corps
Doused in flames of Napalm canisters
Spilled over palm plantation
White bandages and browned crying naked children
Grunt of diesel smoke from engaging
Patton tank covering sweating
Grunts who feared they were already in hell
Even as a child
I could see it in their eyes
half a world away
I choked on my popcorn
It was a mistake to bring
The families along
Into the war zone
But when were they
Ever rational about TV...
A contest entry
- # 190 of Winkling & Friends: Vera Rich Poem by Lyndon.
1750 points, ended October 12, 5 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I suppose we have the right to these memories, "lest we forget" or maybe even learn a little? I love your take in the final stanza, bringing the war right into our lap. But it was and is still remembered, be it good or bad through the eyes of those children today.
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Ah! this is so similar to a comment that I just made about flickering newsreels, that is ironic. I have no first hand experience of war, but rely on films and scant reports that are edited for presentation to the public.
A good poem!
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