The Forgotten Soldier

history written by the victorious

remembered by the soldier

forgotten by all

battered, bruised, discarded

honour cast aside

no medals for the forgotten warrior



once forgotten

memories now return

new wounds emerge

new scars

new pain and guilt

but still society forgets



wars once popular

now become an anathema

silence abounds

but the memories remain



history written in black

but remembered in blood

history written in scars

survives beyond the fading text



politicians write the history

soldiers carry the weight of that history

 

© 2016 michael d emmerich
© 2016 mikesnexus.com

Mist of War

red mist glazes over

it’s to dark to see

the eyes glaze over

into that 1000 yard stare



darkness draws nigh

the veil is torn

the pathway opens

yes, I have seen the world

but not sure which



darkness draws nigh

I am coming

not one second to soon

as the tragedy

of history repeats itself

© 2017 michael d emmerich

White Feathers

Inspired to write a poem on peace, seeing as the 21st of Sept was/is the International Day of Peace.

a white feather fell from heaven

doves fly by

a bullet whistles past

blood drips from the bough of a tree

peace in our time is the mantra

can it be believed



cowardice, faith, protection, bravery

peace

so many messages, to which do we cleave

hope from beyond; past, present or future

don’t shoot the messenger



crying white doves circle

hoping they do not die bringing their message

doves cry where children die

hope dies when doves cannot fly

may they be lifted on the wings of peace

upwards to a burning sky

to a place with no name



the sun sets on a world in disarray

how many more white feathers need to fall from a burning sky

the spirits are watching

are they at peace?

I pray that they will be

 

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Fuck War!

draft or dodge

conscription or jail

exile or war

hero traitor or coward

choices that define or break


who is the enemy


the just or unjust war

justified by the church

who stands aside

letting death slip quietly by

welcoming death

in gods name it shall be done


who chose this war


justified by the politician

arrogance greed and power

forcing boys to become men

to become killers

for the sake of an ‘ism, as told by an idiot


who has the most to lose


who binds the wounds that bleed

the scars that don’t heal

the wounds you cannot see

none but the fellow beside him

neither the church or politicians

in whose name their blood is discarded

along with their futures
 

whose life is to be sacrificed


not mine said the politician, suckling on the teat of corporate greed

not mine said the bishop, god made me do it

not mine said the arms dealer, I just sell death

not mine said the general, I’ve done my time

not mine said the wealthy, the poor are the pawns

not mine said the socialite, I’ll read it on page seven


who has the most to gain


At whose cost

At what cost

WHY?

FUCK WAR!

 

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

The Forgotten Soldier

history written by the victorious

remembered by the soldier

forgotten by all

battered, bruised, discarded

honour cast aside

no medals for the forgotten warrior



once forgotten

memories now return

new wounds emerge

new scars

new pain and guilt

but still society forgets



wars once popular

now become an anathema

silence abounds

but the memories remain



history written in black

but remembered in blood

history written in scars

survives beyond the fading text



politicians write the history

soldiers carry the weight of that history
© 2016 michael d emmerich
© 2016 mikesnexus.com

My Enemy is My Friend

the battle of life rages on

as it has since Cain killed Abel

sides are picked

weapons are chosen

the games dictated by others has begun

friends become enemies become friends



battles are won and lost

mountains are gained and valleys are lost

lives are lost for inches and feet

leaders spill the blood of others

never of their kin or own

living or dying in the trenches of life and war

in the mix and mess of the trenches

we all become equal



blood mixes with the soil and the soul

in the depths of the dark

decisions made can be unmade

enemies can become friends

who is to say that this life is not precious

who can be so bold as to let others suffer for an ideal

whilst they wallow in the comfort of their lies



sides picked can be unpicked

the enemy of my leader does not have to be my enemy

decisions made on high can be undone on low

when we look into the eyes of our enemy we see but ourselves

staring back at us in pity and fear

as we gaze into the thousand-yard stare

let us see more than the abyss staring back at us



as your thumb cocks the hammer

as your finger squeezes the trigger

as your fist pulls back

as your knife is about to plunge

first gaze into the mirror of his eyes

to see yourself staring back



the dignity of living

must become the new normal

enemies can become friends

friends and enemies all long for the same

to be able to die at a time and place

that they have chosen

not chosen for them through lies and deceit

as a new day dawns

young men should no longer fight the battles of the old men

 

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich