|
Is War’s End in Sight? |
 |
|
Tho’ forlornly I strain beleaguered
sight
Seeking, longing, hoping both day and night
To see that holy end of the rainbow bright...
Sadly, I see of wars no end
For greed and malevolence yet mankind rend
Old men still their young to do their bidding send.
Someday mankind will learn from war’s plague
See truth shining through the foggy vague...
But men still brag with hearty elation
We are a warrior generation
Endlessly plodding off to war, mindless of blood, guts, and
gore
Experienced by legions of soldiers in days of yore
Pumping mighty fists into air
Thoughtless of those who of war despair
Heedless of war’s wanton desecration
Bearing mindless desolation of war’s terrible devastation.
Some convince themselves War does seeds of peace plant
O, I have seen war’s grievous arse-kissing sycophant
Witnessed its comedy of egregious errors
Propelling would be world emperors
Borne atrocities bearing witness to its emptiness
War’s vacuous great sadness
To one another showing lack of common civilities
Careless to kind amenities depravity guarantees.
And who will war’s cost pay?
Who today will their life give way,
Little children who cannot get out of harm’s way
Young boys sent by politicians to persecute the day
Generations mindless of sanity’s cost of the fray?
War’s worst is done to the weak and infirm
Who in innocence on war’s cross are first to burn
Who have not the means continued life to earn.
Oh yes, there are beaucoup corpses
Revelations of prophetic disclosure apocalypses
Bodies piled in deathly rows
The harvest of evil cruel war sows
For faith, hope, charity’s too often undone
Despoiled in the land of the gun
Where rules the despot king
His ordinances commanded to the people to bring.
Shall men kill men in Allah’s name
His glory to proclaim?
Will war wipe out differences
To install ethnic cleansing defenses?
There is no warrior’s vision without tears and pain
For on the earth these foul imposters reign
To the masses easily seen... unless you’re blind
Always there’s someone with an axe to grind...
Different sides all send out their warriors
Their combat saviors
Each side feeling they are called by Almighty God
Whether Christian soldiers or Moslem jihad
From east to west
Fight and die at their nationalities urgent behest
Earning a generation war’s bequest
The fire and brimstone harvest.
Oh yes, I’ve searched in war for man’s saving grace
The atonement to wash sin from another’s face
Because they just don’t think like we do, politico’s sigh
Without note of the mote in our own eye
To cleanse man’s inhumanity to man.
But... is God pleased with the warrior man
Or is he just content to watch war’s light show?
At his pleasure, can He shut His balcony window? |
By
Gary Jacobson
Copyright 2006
Listed August
15, 2010 |
|
About
Author...
In 1966-67, Gary Jacobson served with B Co
2nd/7th 1st Air Cavalry in Vietnam as a combat infantryman and is the recipient of the Purple
Heart.
Gary, who resides in Idaho writes stories he
hopes are never forgotten, perhaps compelled by
a Vietnamese legend that says, “All poets are
full of silver threads that rise inside them as
the moon grows large.” So Gary says he
writes because “It is that these silver
threads are words poking at me – I must let them
out. I must! I write for my brothers who cannot
bear to talk of what they’ve seen and to educate
those who haven’t the foggiest idea about the
effect that the horrors of war have on
boys-next-door.”
Visit Gary Jacobson's site for more information
It is illegal to
use this poem without the author's permission.
~~ Send your comments and/or use permission request to
Gary Jacobson. ~~ | |
| War and Tragedy Poems | Poem Categories |
|
