Wargames

Wrote this when living on the back of Colchester Barracks training ground.

Beyond the green and muddy slope

There stands a pole stretched tall with rope

On days when playtime rents the air

A flag of warning waves up there

The green and booted men run round

And fill these spaces full of sound

 

The rumbling tanks leave tracks in sand

And games of violence use the land

When all the guns and bombs are downed

That flag is lowered to the ground

Safely folded, stored away

Until the boys return to play

 

I walk my dog across the grass

And wonder at these foolish tasks

I know they have a duty to

Protect the lives of me and you

But of all our crazy world composes

These games seem futile, childish poses

 

The green and booted boys don't know

Their playful antics precede woe

The paintballs that they fire today

Will take a life when not at play

This ground on which I walk my beast

Is used to practice hatreds' feast

 

I see the flag and stay away

There won't be any walk today

I close my ears against harsh noise

for WARGAMES have recalled the boys

They seem so serious, proud and stern

And I just wish that they could learn

 

The pointless waste of precious lives

The lessons of the games comprise

Where armies dwell, aggression's aimed

Innocent boys are killed and maimed

Beneath the flag of poppy hue

The bones of dead lie under you

 

Reviews

[Laura Nikkinen]

Nice rhythm, like marching people with their feet stomping the ground. Gave me vivid pictures.