180000
4
blues soldier,
proud and true
signed up for the job...
because you knew it was your
just due...
the price you pay for freedom
so they said...
when you were recruited.
seemed like a cool dream
hit you square in the pride
generations, like you
fought, despite repression
of your kind
by those who didn't care for "them other folks"
but you did it, because other, more decent ones
had always seemed to have compassion.
they cared about injustice
and they knew
how to right a wrong, directly...
So, we are now enlisted...
Father was a Full Bird, Colonel
you'd lived on military reservation
far as you could remember
isolated from half the usual
nascent reawakening of society
to a diversified collective...
Joined the Navy.
cause you didn't believe that
what you'd studied before
as a war+baby...
sleeping in the woods
was right for you.
Got through boot camp
with the help of the almighty.
went to secondary school. to learn the trade
next, went on to practical study
in a real stationary plant,
simulating the mobile ship.
Now, another level. what they'd call a prototype
marking time, making the rounds
just as you would in real time.
Next, now
HERE WE GO!
TO WAR...
all has taken an air of deadly seriousness
RUSH to the ships
with each footstep leaving ripple effects,
sending waves in energy which echo on forever,
each time going progressively further, deeper
stepping far beyond the prior nine to five
trade it in for living on the edge
on the outskirts of insanity
trying to save humanity
or all the while
just trying to return alive
since the first day the troop carriers arrived
mind exploring
mission logs reflections
what recollections remain intact
...as a caravan of transport ships
drops down from the heavens
from a hole which suddenly appears above in the clouds
you could feel the heat from the engines
carried on the down blast
sending dust clouds scattering in all directions
leaping to the earth
in the midst of a firefight
just as they touched ground
the sounds of violence on the prowl
cutting down soldiers to the right and left
death stalking...
and one out of every four
will be touched on the shoulder
by stress and strain with no relief
which plays relentless tricks upon the mind
unaware of self destructive forces
which wreak havoc on the mind
and mask the real consequences of
undetected pain
rolling the pages of your life
back in time
when prayers were always answered
and the cosmic dancer of fate
had yet to turn the page
to slap the bull
between the eyes,
now bloodshot red with rage
by the stage set this day
count to ten...
one shellshocked,
two mangled,
three horribly disfigured
every one of us
wounded in some manner
which defies description
....and four dead
the staccato
characteristic tone
the song of the composite blades,
as they whirr chopping the silence
in between the variable rotation
by computer assisted control
and the engines whine defiance to the winds,
men leap streaming away
to the familiar rhythm and rhyme,
of chaos and uncertainty
dodging bullets as they leap freely through space
maneuver through piles of spent clips,
broken debris of what were once war machines
and indistinguishable body parts
littering the ground,
then dive for cover
blues soldier
taking aim from head to heart
with music notes sharper
than the cutting edge of sonic booms
of fighters circling out of sight,
high overhead
spookies making practise runs
...shooting starflares through the night...
nothing moves and lives lost in the firestorm
never know what hit them
yet, mangled soul survivors may find themselves awakening to
a world apart from this
into a confusion cloud of suffering
unlike anything they've ever know
much less imagined...
which erupts everytime the characteristic sound
of an AK or RPG is heard...
you can almost count the seconds
to when they will be silenced
still more hapless foes appear
long lines of souls hanging out to dry
straight from the washing machine
they've walked into...
HELL
easy as 123...
doublestep
abc
try to catch your breath...
say your prayers
Hail, Mary passes from the great beyond
even those who claim to be
beyond religious...
...hoping not to die today...
Before tomorrow calls
A bite to eat...
buddy got your back
In and out of sleep
that's anything but restful
got to keep it all in focus...
in attempt to stem the tide
hitting hard, spinning heads
boots on the ground,
what’s that sound(INCOMING!)
running fast
avoiding craters that come
with the blasts of high explosives
which cause you to change direction
often from your apparent path
and cover holes that look too perfect
skip it
booby traps with more spines than porcupines
looking for the first fool to win a trip ticket home
in a body bag with dog tags
so dodging blasts
...and gunning anything smoking.
we hear the star spangled banner all over again...
drowning out the desert winds for long moments in time.
Then as suddenly as they came, Vanishing ...
In the fog
Sometime later
Regaining consciousness
Awakening to silent sobs,
after yet another day in hell
cause that’s our job
c2
