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> Passchendaele, Nov. 1917 3rd Ypres
Camac
Posted: 03-Nov-2008, 01:18 PM
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Mud, Stench, Desolation
Shattered Trees
Shattered Souls
Death hangs
In the air
Shells screech
Tearing the silence
Asunder,roaring overhead
Plunging to Earth
Wounding the Land
Geysering soil,rocks
And bodies in ugly
Mushrooms skywards
To cascade back, haloing
Another crater
Bleeding putrid water
The rats grow fat
And ever bolder
Odious chisel teeth
Grining from blood
Smeared faces as
They gorge on
Rotten offal that
Once were men.
Fear chokes the brain
That teeters on
The edge, legs tremble
Body quakes, waiting
Waiting for the
Piercing shrill of
Whistles that
Signal attack and
Steady the nerves
The fear is there
But now contolled
Along the line
The Khaki mud
Boils up and out
To flow across
The Tortured Land
And falter at
The wire wall
There met by
Deaths own
Leaden Hail
And Slaughter
Done at Passchendaele.
               
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LadyOfAvalon 
Posted: 03-Nov-2008, 01:45 PM
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A very explicit and gruesome image of war you describe. As I read your poem I can walk in this field and smell and see the vivid image of Death.

Well written Camac,

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Harlot 
Posted: 03-Nov-2008, 05:55 PM
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Your poem has brought memories of what little bits of war my father would let my brother and I hear. It had me remember Vet Nam,and the time my father and daughter went to see Saving Private Ryan.We came out crying and my father saying " Thats as close to the real thing I hope you would ever have to see".

Wonderful poem,something for everyone too remember.

I hate war all wars


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flora 
Posted: 03-Nov-2008, 07:36 PM
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Reminds us to give special thanks to all our Veterans. Specially since November 11 is Veteran's Day in the US.

Flora


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"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."
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