Can't allow the hate and fear to overcome us. World been the same for a long time. Must dance and love. Never know when it is time to go.
Ain't no f*****g good war.
Old WW2 Vet sat
alone. He raised his glass to the sky. He looked at an empty
seat. "To the good war my friend." He drinks his shot of
whiskey. "Whisper ain't no f*****g good war. " He put
his face into his hands.
Father had his ribbons and
awards over the fireplace from the Korea war. We watched
war movies together. He was the hero who always saved
me.
On the weekend he would drink his rum. Late at
night I would sit with him. He would talk to dead
buddies left in the Korean dirt. He would tell me. "No
war is worth a s**t."
Old Vietnam Vet was dying. The
agent orange had made him 110 pounds. The VA won't see
him anymore. The VA told him nothing they can do. I sat with him and listen. He told me he
volunteers and was proud. He thought he was doing
the right thing. He looks me in the eyes and whisper "All my friends are dead. I will see them soon."
"What
will I tell them? Did the War have any reason? Was
it just a f*****g grave filled with hate?"
I try to put myself in the places where
living another day is your goal. Being hungry and
needing medical care. Watching their world fall apart
around them.
I go to graves of good
friends. They died in Iraq for the hatred of the
Bush's years. I whisper "f**k these
wars."
I was in Hamburg, one night. There was little local fair on the alstair. The fair ended at 2300, and everybody left. It was a coldish autumn night. I was bit lonely. I decided to run around the fairground once more.
So I did, and I bumped into the group of hispanics, who pulled me in there dance, because they thought it's summer (late september, north germany), it's spain (Hamburg). A lot many people, drunken, non drunken etc also encircled us.
Soon this had to end, because you are not allowed to shout in Germany after 2200 hours. I was alone again.
One man picked me up, a hopeless drunkard, and landscape garden designer. He grabbed my shoulder, and we patrolled the whole night in Hamburg suburbs till 0400 next morning.
The only thing apart from his intro to me he said is "kreig ist immer schiße" - That translates to "war is always s**t"
Why can't the aristocrats who runs the politics, and who's footsteps rock the corporate hamburg (and the rest of the world) learn from this hopeless drunkard? Why can't everybody learn from him?
Germans ww2 vets do not want to talk easily - but when they talk, I start feeling why do I even exist, tell you the story later :-s
BORDERS HAVE NO WALLS.. YES.. THEY HAVE STORIES AND PAIN... YOU HAVE TO FIND THE PLACE TO WRITE AND TALK.. AND BRING THEM ALIVE.. LOVE THIS POETRY.. I DO
I could feel the anguish and dismay. War is a truly terrible thing, an invention of mankind existing as a parallel dimension on our green earth. Why do we so relentlessly destroy ourselves, our planet, and our futures?
i loved the first stanza. the way he raises his glass seemingly in happiness in pride, but slowly you realize hes miserable and lonely and the war took friends and ruined him. i could see it perfectly in my head and the thought brings tears to my eyes. beautiful.
xxxx
very powerful and accurate poem. lots of people assume that war serves a good purpose and that as long as we win, then we succeeded. too many times everyone forgets the fact that lots of people die unnecessary deaths and they don't really know the true reasons the war happened to begin with.
i love that you don't just depict yourself in this poem. you explain three different people and talk about how the war effected them, how they thought it's what should have been done but now it's effected their entire life.
i truly love this poem. you did a great job writing. nice tone of voice through it and i think you really kept the audience in mind the whole time.
WE have the worlds biggest army spend on it more than the rest of the world put together .All because we have no bad borders and have to go half way round the world to pick a fight
sick
Tate
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"Ain't No F*****g Good War" is a poignant yet sad poem...no, I would say hopeless. Now that the veteran of these foreign wars is home, and out of harms way, what is he to look forward to except the horror in the murky foam of his own beer?
What a powerful piece of thought. I so agree with you on the tales our Vets can tell....working with the public i've met quite a few who shared horrific tales.
I think I'm a pacifist in spite of knowing full well that we need to protect ourselves. However, wars have existed for centuries .. each one, in my mind, being a rehearsal for the final one. One day Man might get it right and blow us all to kingdom come .. gone, over, done.. dust.
War is the slaughter of innocents, of children and the aged, the sick and the desperate. War is the tool of the foolish, the men in power .. and so forth. Maybe if we could accept each other, creed and all apart, but as human beings with red blood coursing through our veins in exactly the same way, wherever we live .. we might learn to listen ..and that applies to all nations. Sorry, an EJG rant.
Your poem brings out emotions that few do .. maybe we should read more, think more and act less .. apart from reaching out. Can't use your language but, your final line says what I think.
A Poet and writer who love to read and write.
My pleasure is reading about the bad and good in a life.
Also to honor the Poets/Writers of the past by reading their words.
Remember .. more..