"My tank is bigger than yours," a schoolboy with his toy may gloat,
Standing in his duffel coat, sticking out his tongue.
Does he know - ten years from now - he's working on a new design
of lethal-power desert mine, a new approach to war?
This arms-race just accelerates
As leaders in their halls debate
The best way to alleviate
Their burdened consciences.
Yet every battlefield thorugh time
Played host to men paid for their crimes,
Then ignored when they lose their minds
Through dreams and memories.
What is it for - this passionate war?
Does it heal the sick or clothe the poor?
What was so wrong with life before
that we must act this way?
"They died that we might live richer lives."
What is money to those who strive -
For richer or poorer - while their wives
Are widowed and alone.
They stand for what their government
Indoctrinate and preach.
They stand for peace; each war put down
as retaliation.
"...he started it..."
Soon history is taught by the soldiers' generation
so the children of each nation
know the atrocities
committed by 'the other side'.
"My tank is bigger than yours."
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A contest entry
- It is well that war is so terrible... by Peripatetic.
3000 points, ended October 12, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Warriors who fight without a cause in which they believe or which they may at least comprehend can win only if their tanks are bigger and more resilient than their enemies' resolve. And so it is, "This arms-race just accelerates." It is much easier to turn out tanks than dedicated soldiers from cultures barren of robust convictions.
As a man under arms a generation ago, I wondered what cause would be worth my dying or being maimed, my family's loss or the punishment of my soul for bringing death in my hands when I considered my purported enemy as a boy like myself with an intellect and spirit as precious to God and man as my own. Then and now I believe there are just causes for accepting the consequences of war, but we are damned if we search for those before we search and weigh the consequences of peace:
"What is it for - this passionate war?
Does it heal the sick or clothe the poor?
What was so wrong with life before
that we must act this way?"
The poem speculates that it is because of the history learned as it is taught rather than from lessons of true history learned that we go to war in every generation. The history we know is that of the latest victors, and it will be revised again after the next war.
The poet's voice is a loom of articulation in this poem which draws us along in the rhythm of its rhymes out of time in the middle and at the ends of line. The woven sounds of the poem complement the content which weaves the elements of war, it toys and weapons, venal motivations and deadly effects into its tapestry. Although the author ties off the poem with the line with which she begins, we have a sense that this is a neverending story.
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Thank you so much for your thorough and insightful analysis, and thank you for the inspiration to write something more mature (?) and thought provoking. I learnt a lot about myself writing this piece and am thinking more and more of a friend who is on his way out to Afghanistan for his first tour this week. I wonder what his reaction would be to these words. He leaves the UK with absolute conviction and I hope that his confidence will see him through until I see him again.
I tried to make the poetry timeless, but current events play heavily on my mind - it is always so much easier to reflect on what you have seen. I have not seen war first hand on the international scale, but conflicts are all around us. As for contemporary warfare it is difficult not to be blinded by media mirage.
It is a subject I could talk about for days, but will not keep you - contest judge - distracted.
Thanks again for the opportunity to share a perspective amongst many others, a very interesting contest.
Huntress x
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