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a soldier's wife
the day they hit
the ground in combat
we get on our knees glued to
windows
praying the two uniformed men
walking
down the street with a folded flag
do not turn
towards your door!
behind thick blinds we
watch
as they march in unison
as
if in slow motion towards a quiet home
...the
unlucky wife starts to wail
before the first knock
on her door
wordlessly, we gather around
her
and cry and pray and mourn...
we
hold her children
and make urgent calls home
we
keep awake, not relieved, but apprehensive
knowing,
we will see those messengers again tomorrow
but on
whose front door?
warner,
c. (fort bragg, 2004)
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2003
in kosovo
2003 met me standing
alert.
wide eyes and worried
at a city gate in kosovo
peeking
at emptiness
searching hearts and houses
for
signs of the ripples of hatred inside
items,
movements that determine
the fate of an imploding
world
no one noticed
under
the cover of darkness
it breezed past
along
with cold winter winds
and columns of a faint
continuous rain
that drum silently non-stop like time
but
only to the attentive
in wilderness, in
uniform; lock and loaded
we dream of 2003 at times
square;
the count down! and fire works
and
swallow the memories of misery
with pride and honor
for
freedom
happy new year
newman,
alexander (camp bondsteel, 010103 )
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i
remember you
i remember you with a big
smile
and a deep longing
i suffer
the rush through my highs and lows
days, i
trace your face with my finger
delicately down your
portrait
like a blind man upon a fading brail
i
remember you and giggle with joy
for the perfect
moments we shared
they feed my mind constantly with
hope
times, i take a walk alone and watch
the stars
in pains to be with you in spirit
to
thank you for giving me so much to hold unto
i
remember you and cry
for the silence I returned
and
the conflicts I repaid you with
often, i
lay back and wonder
if you remember me
what
those memories would be...
sgt.
abraham, o'conor (camp doha, kuwait)
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we
return empty handed
we kill with cold
nerves and patience
shadowing enemies wherever they
be
but cannot stand to look
at
the first spurts of blood to receive our sons
because
we are away to catch freedom
before she falls into
the hands of anarchy
we hop east to west;
further far east
as peace keepers, nation builders,
to police the earth
walking fine lines on tight
ropes of diplomacy
arms stretched crucifix to
separate warring nations...
fed up, our
wives leave us taking everything with them
we return
empty handed, starry eyed...back to the streets
we
tax ourselves to raise countries we razed
and coax
their frightened kids with candies back to school
the
best amongst us heal and teach them under fire
others,
pick up the mines of democracy...
we
return, and become strangers to our own kids
ill-equipped,
many retire. lost. unable to compete
cpl
nussbam, f. (usmc, japan; 2006)
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out
here (in fallujah)
out
here, in the wilderness
the desert envelops the day
with
darkness and sandstorm;
you shoot and peek through
the lightning path
of your lead rounds as bodies fall
barely
25 meters from your head rest
sweating, you cross
your heart
and reload
out
here
answers come to you like dawn
just
staring endlessly at emptiness
without seeing, you
know;
you feel something monstrous
is
upon the earth;
incubused, you struggle to breathe
and
push with all your spirit
quietly, you lay your arms
down
and go back to sleep, awake, and
wait...
out here
you
just know
it is kill or be killed...
sfc
patterson, g. (fallujah, iraq)
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when?
i
used to stand by the fence long after school
hoping
daddy would come by
hold my hands and walk me
home...but
hope is like tomorrow; both
shift positions
i used to pray and dance
and try
crying for a sign: maybe even speak in
tongues
that i'm forgiven and counted...but
heavens
remain a constant
i used to dream and plan
and work hard
with trained eyes on the prize
until
i saw the glass ceiling above my head and realized
cracks
were not doors
now, i hang by the phone
sit
around all day hoping my sign-on letter would arrive
for
that one call that will change my life forever
and
shatter the ceiling above me
or, that the
girl i love would call
and come find me where i'm
hiding
hold my head and rock my fears
away...
still, the clock ticks regardless 1lt
durr, g. ( fort Jackson)
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her
picture
the one i
carry in my wallet
until a bullet or two takes me
down
with pride
was a
surprise shot
that caught her mid-way
between
stillness and motion
her back on me
two
solid ridges that flow down toward quick moulds
struggling
to be seen underneath her briefs
her eyes
were on her eyes
transfixed, locked in the mirror,
hoping to find herself
between her and the
reflection that stared at her
she was naked
she
was crying with hands on her aching face
baby was in
pains
speechless, i pressed the shutter
let
her fall into my arms
and waited for the storm; her
spasms roll over us
sgt
jude, a. (okinawa, 2005 )
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read
drink
words
before the sun rises
pure
and cleansing, words awaken the spirits
like strong
gin
as it sinks in
it explodes
with imageries
like nuggets in the arteries
of
unvoiced echoes
that bubble inside you
like
lovers in a foreplay
drink words
words
surf the mind like waves
helping us ride through
turbulence
each day like fun
drink
plenty of word
especially at sun set
like
rain, it gathers the day's rot
disillusionment, pain
and chagrin
into a trash bag below like a bladder
leaving
us refreshed, relived and free of each day's
contaminating
effect on the mind
read
cpt
maxwell, young (fort drum, 2001)
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river
nile
i remember the nile
if africa is my face
she runs slim and ugly from my scalp
through my left eyes like tears
down my cheek, my neck, through my breast
into my heart
as it crawls gently into lake victoria
i remember her
nile made the pyramids possible
her fruits fed israel too and beyond
it gave the ciders of babylon character
she is without boundaries, color nor age
just nile. river nile. our nile
i remember the nile
all smiles, eyes and teeth; so egypt
arms spread crucifix
beckoning on her children- every nation
to hide in her embrace: nile
she has something for everyone
nile gave but never received
they said she was too busy
but no one- no river ever remembered
to terminate into her bowls that she might live
not even me- her child: a black child
river nile
i remember her
like my mother
cpl usman, ibrahim ali (
cairo, egypt , 2003)
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to
the enemy soldier
before we
unleash the hatred in our fire power
on each other
just
want you to know
i've nothing against you
nor
hold any personal grudge against your people
than
we are soldiers on opposing sides
sworn to defend
and die for our countries
as dictated by the few we
chose to represent us
every blow that
connects cuts a bit of me down
i feel you as i
walk over your blood to make a point
but we do not
have a say in these matters
just doing our job as
the executioner would
dead inside
looking
without seeing
every motion
is
memorized, internalized to inhuman perfection
but
will your children forgive me
will your widow
understand
that even as i prep these missiles
i
pray i'll never have to press the red button
that
we all want the same things
the peace that freedom
brings
the equality of human race, and true justice
for all
can you read them these words and tell them
we
are not enemies before you die
cpt
campos, brett k. ( basra, iraq)
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boot
camp
we came
each, like a broken piece of glass
some cracked, some straight sharp
some blunt and on edge toward smithereens
needing props to be counted
but holding strong unto individual dogmas
until drill sergeants like porters set to work on us
they broke every piece of us into painful shreds
with sweat, songs, words, and examples
with bleeding finger tips
for nine hurting weeks
before putting back piece by piece each piece
to form one big looking glass
stronger, polished and edified inside
ready to face the world
ready to graduate
we look in the mirror and see us
and remember we are the glass
through which the world sees
and feel the depth of the fears
we have sacrificed our lives
to protect them from
to be free
pvt. mccoy, dorothy ( fort
Jackson , 1992)
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hold
me
physical, i
respond to your touch
like tendrils to light
the
way your hair feathers past my face
make me squirm
with joy from a distant.
hold me
sensitive,
i dance only to slow rhythms
just so i can hold you
close
measure your breath against the sweat in your
palms
and lick the smoothness of your whisper in my
ears.
hold me
ticklish,
i giggle each time i see you fawn
i cannot have
enough of your spirit. i am blessed
new wine. old
wine...you taste better everyday
i smile
while away as memories of you unfold.
hold me
hold
me, though i am so far away
as i do with your
portraits in my kevlar
it is night here; hot as
hell; sand in my eyes
but i see your beautiful face
in my heart.
hold me
2lt
adams, christian (baqoubah, iraq/2004)
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amongst
three, one
if
you have read 'three' books in your life
without
yeast one rises above the rest; taking a life of its own
it
meshes with your thoughts and emasculates your being
a
prism with which you view life. it follows you like a shadow
you
catch yourself repeating its lines like verses in the bible
when
you wrestle with temptations
'arrow of god' released
me. cleared my pathway
and dressed me up for combat
if
you have visited 'three' places in your life
one
steals your heart and buries it amongst her mysteries
challenging
you time and time again to return and find it
against
your wish you always go back to feel your spirit
natives
understand and invite you to their meals
until you
learn their dance and see without looking
'elimina
castle' resonates in my soul...i still smell her walls
she
left bile in my tongue...to be cleansed the day of my return
if
you have 'three' shoes
one brings you luck. it never
complains, nor disappoints
through its wear and
tear. it fits every hand-me-down
underneath your
pillow. without polish water works on it like gloss
sometimes
when you cry, it lifts your feet and tap to your heartbeat
to
hope. makes you rise to go find your dream
i rest
mine on the second line of the electric pole
closest
to my window at home. we talk, each time i return from my travels
if
you have loved 'three' men/women in all your life
one
stands out, so good, above the rest
steals your
heart with his/her kind of love
try as you can you
freeze each time you sense that one around you
his/her
voice pull at every vein that connects to your sensories
your
dreams and fantasies bear the same face and body
your
prayers end with hope for you two with tears and longing like
i
pray to see home again whilst in babylon
ssg
aroh, paul e. (fob thunder, iraq/2004)
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uss
ingraham's coming home!
USS Ingraham's coming
home!
The USS
Ingraham's coming home real soon...
At long
last loved ones will share the same bright moon
No
more longing, despair, or turmoil
Tonight, so many
will treasure more
Than being back on US soil
Sailors,
soldiers standing proud and true
We all are so very
proud of you
We welcome you with open arms
Thankful
you were kept from harm
You are a very welcome sight
More
precious than a starry night
You've
been away too long it's true
But we have never
forgotten you
Today, we'll shout, cry and laugh
Emotions
will tug at each full heart
You are home, and we are
no longer apart
How
long have we waited
To stand next to you and
No
longer be blue
No longer stressed
No
more doubts, sadness, or tears
Just look at those
smiles on that Pier!
Whatever
the future holds for us all
You are always ready,
standing tall
Ready to give everything you've got
A
sailor, A soldier, an American, someone
Not afraid
to do his duty, it's true
I guess that's why it's so
easy
For all of America to love you
Welcome
home, we have missed you
No one can ever replace a
single one of you
So, enjoy your families, friends
and your life
And know we appreciate you as we see
Each
and every one of you step back on land
Clear of sea.
Ness
Fragmin (Florida, USA)
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60
Seconds Commercials
those 60 seconds
super bowl commercials for our troops
end with hours
of tears in real life...
as we
walk tall through terminals in camouflage
fathers,
mothers, children stand up and stir with awe
we
wave and smile, and march on
they breathe and clap
and cheer
but it is not all smile inside
for
we never return complete
what you see
is
half the men and women that left
many
families will wait in vain
for soldiers they sent
with pride to war
who will never return;
or return in bits
but wrapped underneath stars and
stripes
we hurry out of terminals, away
from the cheers
least, you see our pain; our tears
instead
of smiles, pride and joy
the belief in the eyes of a
grateful nation
who stand up for 60 seconds to clap
to
show it cares...
spc
lautenschlager, manuela (frankfurt, germany)
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bosnia
same
skies, same earth, same people
but a wasteland of
conflict and turmoil
open...and waiting
with
ghost guides on dangerous dirt roads
skeletons that
once housed buildings
sway at you, and collapse
before your eyes
landlocked, faces walk
around listlessly
until they step into a waiting
mine, or
over the mountains out of bosnia for hope
bosnia,
with a warped long history
old as time; a limb
without body
passing and changing hands through
crooked hands
with gold and gut underneath
their land
ice and hope upon her rocky mountains
for
respite
yet, they greet you
every
new day with the warmest smile
eyes ever saw on earth
cpt.
conrad, montgomery (camp eagle, bosnia)
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Great
men...
What is it in great men
and women
That makes them different; mean and hungry
from birth
Insatiable, restless, regardless of size
or position
Quick to identify vacuums
Voids
they race to fill with their lives...
To
reject that which do not accommodate their dreams
Chained,
they push with their minds; with fiery words
Until
their hands and legs multiply and become plebians
To
fulfill their dreams
Alone, they dance to their own
drumbeat
And walk against the tide of reason
Without
regard to consequences
Locked up, their
minds become wings
With which they fly to freedom
Reticent,
isolated, but full of intensity and passion
Dug in
against the battle within
Oblivious of all else, but
the hope for a spark
For the fire that ravage their
souls
Single minded
Not
caring for glory...
For good or bad
Like
all great commanders
In battle
Unwavering,
till the end
Ceasar
Pvt
Bothen, Pulman (Yorkshire, England)
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let
go
sometimes, we wake up with an answer
so
clear, bright and sunny
we hurry to open the windows
and breathe deep the freshness of dawn
excited,
we swell with songs inside
and bubble all day with
activity
whistling as we make room
to
accommodate the hope that freedom brings
somehow,
we find courage to toss extra baggage
that weigh us
down out the window
dead relationships, like
beautiful dresses we have outgrown
and never wear
again are finally thrown out
anger,
jealousy, regrets, memories...like pictures
we
hide underneath our mattress, but no longer need
nor
do they have place in our lives
are dissed like a
hoop shot out the door
magazines,
newspapers, old letters, cds, movies...
like
too many rings and chains around our necks
things we
cling unto for validation, are peeled off
so we can
stand straight again and breathe in tomorrow's promises
we
dance, not hungry for rest until we are done
deleting
and crossing out useless ads and numbers
that clog
our lives, watching it burn...
until we are
free at last
let go like me
when
you lose an only son in a war
that just wont go away
let
go before it takes you too. let go
Monique,
F. (Alabama, USA)
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the
left behind
As a fire fighter you live
for every moment, but one
That one last cry of a
soul left behind
Separated by growing tongues of
flame
As walls crack open like thunder
And
the floor underneath your feet begin to cave in
Seconds
become hours as eyes lock to that one cry
Hypnotized
by the greatest desire to help, but unable
You do
not turn, yet you walk away...
As
a doctor you trade everything you know for hope
For
faith from the depth of your soul
As you give your
all to save a child hit by a drunk driver
But clutch
unto your trembling hand for life
You hold your
breath
Afraid to rob her a fighting chance if you
should blink
You cheer, you beg, pray, cry, and
pound the table in desperation
But she slips
away...
As a cop each phone call
for help takes something out of you
Even a hoax
leaves you weary as you sigh with relief
But a day
comes, and duty becomes a personal battle
Tired in
your surrender to bullies
You shoot to kill in cold
blood
Screaming with rage to free your own soul
For
acquiescing too long with evil
As a marine
you are the left behind
So no one is left behind
Lance
Corporal Mark G. (USMR, Hawaii)
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before
I go
as rounds fall closer
i
write frantically to everyone i know
except my mom
and dad
thanking each one for knowing him/her
a
blessing i cannot repay
apologizing to many i hurt
on the way
mistakes nothing can undo
after
lights out in the tents
i pray
confessing
to free myself of shame
and guilt of sin
fears
that profess the nature and true essence
of the God
i serve
this, i carry like an albatross
in
my conscience and cry myself to sleep
but
wake up angry
for the weakness i express in solitude
the
riot of emotions that plague my mind
as I watch my
buddies carried away
in body bags home in stained
colors
while the steel and slippery reigns of the
law
hold us back from fighting dirty
it
stops us from unleashing the wrath of science
upon
our enemies...
rather, i salute each one,
and shake it off
my face to the sun
as
i drop this mail to you
i'm sorry
ssg
aroh, paul (fob thunder, iraq)
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my
prayer for my son in iraq
He says pray
for me
Please say a prayer
You
may not hear from me awhile...
Pray for us
all
Keep us in your prayers
Thank
you for your prayers
Yes, I pray to God
for him
I beg God to protect them all
I
fear the days that there is no e-mail
I beg God to
spare him a minute
If he is hurt how will I know?
I
love him and send him hugs
I tell him he is special
For
he really is
He the son of others is like my own
He
has captured my heart
Will he survive this
war?
Will he make it home?
Or
will I lose him?
I cannot bear the thought
The
possibility of such beauty gone
I only ask
God to get him home
Keep him safe, please God
Bring
him home in one piece
Bless him please with good life
A
life with many blessings
, Oregon/December, 2004)
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thank
you (a letter)
Dedicated to each
& everyone of you
serving in the military
and
the volunteers assisting the military
Now
you may ask why and how this all started
so I will
give you the short version
I joined a
group of dedicated women and men
that wanted
everyone of you to get mail
and news from home that
was sent just for you
to let you know we cared and
pray for you
to return safely to your families and
friends
Then I started thinking about
our military
and what they really do for us
since
the beginning of time
from the time of man thinking
he knew
what was right for the world, and his people
from the beginning, never asking why but doing
as
ordered to do
So, now is the time to let
you know
we care about you
about
your families
and the sacrifices you are making for
us all
it is time to say thank you
for
all you have done, are doing and will do
to ensure
freedom for all
As the days, months and
years pass I pray
no man, woman or child ever forget
what
you have given to us
Thank you.
Loretta,
Riddell, (Astoria, Oregon/USA)
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