At night as I walk the field of battle once more.
Stepping over the dead, in my mind, evermore.
The smell of battle drifts in the wind
and marks the slain with certain dread.
I know a part of me has died
and from that I can never hide.
A crack in the armor of certainty
that used to guide my steps with surety.
The visions continue to haunt me.
Deep into the nights long hours.
Where battlefields I visit
create a sweat of monumental showers.
Did you know sound can be remembered?
It can lay as heavy as a blanket.
On the dreaming, silently screaming, warrior.
All rights reserved, © Chuck Johnson. Copying without permission for non-personal use is forbidden.
Wake him not with a bang but with a tap.
Or his mental stability, he may lack.
In tribute to all those who have given so much and who still are.
To those who returned forever marred, by the touch of war and its raping memories.
This is dark and deep! I love it!
|punksense on Jun 09, 2004 |
Life is a journey, not a destination. 263 critiques, 30 poems.
I really like reading dark poems. Nice work.
|ashes-to-dust on Jun 09, 2004, 1:00 |
To Hell with boundaries 42 critiques, 27 poems.
I understand this one perfectly. My kids' daddy fought in Vietnam from 1968-1971. These lines couldn't be truer.....
| Touchof1der on Jul 03, 2004, 9:39 p.m. |
Seduce my mind and you can have my body 16136 critiques, 257 poems.
Did you know sound can be remembered?
It can lay as heavy as a blanket;
We were married in 1982. He had been home for years but he still jumped in his sleep...he still had nightmares...and you didn't dare sneak up on him, not even in jest.
This is so short but it speaks volumes and only those close to this kind of life can really understand. I admire your talent.
what a deep and thought provoking piece! It really makes the reader's attention snap to with increased respect for servicemen and women. I found the structure of this to be quite well put together and there is great imagery here. I envisioned the speaker in armor stepping resolutely over the bodies of the dead soldiers, eternally marching on every night in haunting dreams...this is a wonderful poem that drew me in, losing myself in imagining this..... excellently done ~~Quasar~~
|Quasar on Aug 09, 2004, 8:38 p.m. |
Let The Poetry Speak For Itself! 670 critiques, 94 poems.
We put them to sleep with twenty-one bangs and a short series of some gentle Taps. I stood in Gettysberg once, and realized that inches below me was the blood of so many warriors turned into the fertile soil that fed the lovely fields of grass that marked their falls, they live on in the flowers and trees and grass, becoming one with the world and each other, where before it was brothers against brothers, and a nation divided.
| artis on Aug 09, 2004, 9:16 p.m. |
Art is and will be eternally revealing: 7714 critiques, 1265 poems.
it is a quiet place, the winds murmer the sad sighs of all who died as young teens, never knowing love, or life or babies, only the shrapnel of a cannonburst and the musketballs of bone crunching tumbles into eternity....good poem...I too was a warrior and you carry the battles with you long after the dead are bones and the memories of all are blurred with tears...Artis
Edited on Aug 09, 10:18 p.m. because ''.
oh wow, this was beautiful. So sad and deep, it makes me think. Wow. If I could write more I would but there isn't enough words. Thanks for entering.
|BraveHeart on Aug 16, 2004, 2:12 p.m. |
hey look, the Angels are still flying 243 critiques, 64 poems.
| Chuck Johnson on Aug 17, 2004, 8:30 p.m. |
Just fade away. 567 critiques, 147 poems. Currently online.
I want to thank you BraveHeart. Not for me, but for all those who have fallen and those who are still falling in combat and in life. The effects of Post Tramautic Stress *(PTS)* are long and seeming without end. Each solider, sailor, airman or marine who has PTS should be recognized for his/her service to our country. In recognition of receiving the Gold in your contest, I accept your kind award in their names and I do so with humbleness and gratitude.
Thanks for the reminder to remember those who can never forget.
|Rj on Aug 17, 2004, 11:00 p.m. |
553 critiques, 42 poems. Verdict: Very nice write
What a wonderful and insightful tribute it is. Thank you so much for writing it.
| Bezoar on Aug 28, 2004 |
Love and be loved 1220 critiques, 78 poems.
Chuck this I can understand why it won,, tear jerker.. great poem of dedication of these Military people thank you for sharing and giving of your time..Linda
| mistic moonlite on Dec 20, 2005, 6:25 p.m. |
Family&Friends,in world that you can trust 3779 critiques, 489 poems. Currently online.
| Everglow on Jan 01, 11:07 p.m. |
Life is like a story; you wirte your ending 149 critiques, 22 poems.
I can only say wow.
Wow.. I am speachless, you have left me with no words.