Nymph

If my world is shadow

She is soft morning light

If my world is blue

She is auburn and bronze and gold

If my world is winter

She is spring, beautiful and pure

She is birdsong

She is sunlight

She is cricket music and summer air

She is the daughter

come to beg for the life of her brother

to save the infant

and to spare her own flesh

For the marks on her body are red  

Some old

Some fresh as the sunrise

As broken as her mother

And the murder I am planning

Will tear her skin again

Please Don't

My father’s crown fits heavy on my head

Every edge of this broken land cutting through my temples

                Please stop.

I lift my father’s sword. 

Lips mouthing a covenant I know I cannot keep

                Don’t make me king.

I watch you bow before me.

Prostrate on the ground.

                Please.  Stop.

Because you don’t know what the Sea and I know          

I’m a prisoner

His prisoner

Trapped like a fly

Lacking courage, lacking strength

You demand I calm the Sea

Demand I chase his monster

And the sea demands it too

Please.

I’m your whimsy.

I’m your puppet.

I'm your king.

Which King

The sea, he thinks he’s won

He beckons me to come

Approach and be my soldier.

My father is dismayed

“He’s asking you for murder!”

The sea, he is persuasive

                I can heal your tattered land

My father, he is angry

“Don’t listen to his bloodlust!”

The sea, he is determined

                I’ll give you twice what earth has given

But my father, he is desperate

“Do not become his pawn!”

I know not which king to heed

My father or this god

And so the sea rears up

takes my father in his grasp

And drowns him beneath the waves

Jagged Edges

The Sea, he is angry for the earth loves him less

She’s chosen another, birthed a new son

Passed over, forgotten

His jealousy is ice

He throws waves like arrows, all his might to destroy her

She’s already broken as he cuts her and stabs her

She bleeds in her dust, her edges protruding

The Sea in his fury throws himself at the cliffs

reaching for the infant

her baby, her fire

Straining the bounds of his watery domain

But he cannot

he cannot

kill the fire he hates

so he must find another

and his eyes fall on me

Birth

First comes the wind

tearing trees right off their roots

            Father?

Second comes the ripple

popping like bones breaking tendons snapping

What’s happening?

Third comes the thunder

cliffs splitting, mountains shattering

The ground becomes the sky

            Save me.

My father’s city crumbles

Rubble on writhing ground

Screams of hundreds maybe thousands sinking through the dust

Father, please!

But we cannot move at all

The earth, she holds us hostage

As she opens to her core

Her womb, it’s nearly bursting

As something warps within

The mountain shrieks in pain

As twisting writhing burning

Births a beast that’s born of flame

Tremors

There’s a little shaking of the earth tonight

Just a little twitch

But it’s stronger than yesterday’s

and it grows like rabid drums

And my feet, they’ve known the ground

But now they are uncertain

Pebbles dance like mad men

Where pebbles should be still

And now my heart, it tremors

I do not know this beat.

The sea himself rolls back

Away from mountain cliffs

And the creatures that are his

Streak beneath the blue

I want to hide there too

The oracle is chanting

Eyes glazed over, white

Something is coming, he screams

Growing, coming, crawling from deeps

Crimson Red

To the ends of the earth

Till the last man is dead

Till our heroes are buried

And our skies crimson red

We will raise our last flag

We will fight one more day

We’ll endure every fire

Till we’re lost in the grey

Alone you have wandered

Lost in the gale

Fought through each battle

Though you knew you were frail

You’ve now come to save us

But the cost is high

Taken the last boat

Where the river is dry

I’ll sing you to sleep now

Lay down your gun

sleep now my hero

Your struggle is done

The Last Lullaby

There’s a crackle in my ear and radio silence is broken.

I hear them, the voices of the last remaining children.

And they’re singing a lullaby.

For me.

Haunting. Desperate. They’re praying for salvation.  Singing me to sleep.

They think I’m saving them,

that when the ash settles they’ll be safe.

Lies.

I feel the trigger beneath my thumb.

Even if there’s no promised land, I’ll blow this place tonight.

Sunsets, green fields,

moths in the evening breeze,

the smile on my brother’s face,

they’re nothing but memories.

And it’s finally time to forget.

It’s better this way.

It’s over.

Promised Land

Here in the darkness under an enemy roof

I close my eyes and shudder

I’ve seen the truth exposed.

Didn’t they promise a haven? Refuge beyond the perimeter?

Isn’t that why I came here, with this ticking weight strapped to my chest?

But where is the sun?

the green grass?

this land of milk and honey?

I see through slatted windows a wasteland stretching on and on forever.

Clear skies and birdsong vanish in the dust.

It’s the death of the sun.

Their last deception.

No more false assumptions

I do this, I die, and it ends.

Just like that.

I Don't Understand

Here in the darkness under an enemy roof

With death strapped to my chest beneath this uniform

Surrounded by a hundred perfect copies of me

Same green eyes, same radiation suit

Same kind of man with a past just like mine.

What turned you into murderers?

Was it when you were stolen from the fire?

or back when the sky first burned and the law burned with it?

or when they melted you and turned you into captives?

Is that why you hunt us?

Or is it for the very same reason that I’ve come here to kill you tonight.

Fool's Errand

I’m dressed in my enemy’s uniform. Trying not to think about how long it took to peel the dead man’s flesh from this radiation suit. Or about how green will be the last I ever see.

Am I a fool?

Absolutely.

But this whole life has been a fool’s game without ever an end in sight.

Until now.

And damn if I don’t do my all to keep it.

But there’s one thing I can’t get out of my head, something digging deeper.

Just one bomb. One sacrificed life. Then everyone’s  free.

It all just seems a little too…

simple.

One of Us

Fifty grey soldiers.  Our general in front.  Hundreds of others listening over radio.

“It’s true. We’ve found it.  A place without the faceless. ”

Applause.

 “But eighty men died getting there.  Twice as many will die if we try again. The enemy units must be annihilated… there’s only one way to this effectively.”

Murmurings.

“One of us won’t be coming back.”

Silence.

But someone has to go.

My brother’s dead. I killed him.

My friends have burned.   I watched them.

What’s left for me?

I step forward.

Lift my hand.

Am I certain?

Am I sure?

“I’ll go,” I whisper.

Somewhere in the Grey

I’m breathing hard, eyes closed, waiting for the bullet.

My gun still hovers beside my comrade’s head.

And a busload of soldiers, with curses and disbelieving shouts are drowning each other out.

I don’t listen.

But suddenly, a crackle and a voice that’s different:

“Command, this is Delta106, we have affirmative on objective. We’ve breached the perimeter.”

We’re frozen. Staring at the radio.

Because there’s some forgotten sound behind his voice.  Like music.

It’s birdsong.

Is this real?

I drop my gun.

Maybe there is sunlight on our horizon.

Somewhere beyond this ash is the place where life still lives.

Luckless

This scorching heat never ends.

Blisters on our skin.

Rashes on our faces.

We’re riding in some roofless bus.

Bouncing over a world of char.

It’s dead. Never to live again.

My platoon burned. Turned to ash before my eyes.

My brother. I couldn’t save him.

I failed.

So why am I still here?

No reason really.

Some luckless fate.

I grab a pistol. Point it at the medic’s head.

And in an instant, all the guns are trained on me

That’s right.

Let’s end this.

Shoot me friends.

Why tarry? Why carry on?

For me this world is

cold.

Don't Touch Me

Bullets cascade around me, explosions echo, dirt flies into my face

But I’ve got him, my brother

My arms are clinging tight

I see beyond his bloody face, soldiers in grey camo

running toward me, shooting faceless as they come

But then their hands are on my back, pulling me away. “He’s already dead, soldier, let’s go!”

But I’m screaming, thrashing, “Don’t touch me!”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, buddy,” one shouts into my ear.

They pry me away.

I’m weeping. Like a baby.

“Let me go!”
They hold tight.

But my brother, don’t fear.

I swear we’ll meet again

Good bye

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I kneel beside his body.

My hands are sticky wet as I tear the radiation suit. Searching for his wound.

But his back arches. Mouth screams.

He’s been melted. Flesh joined to shimmery fabric.

He’s been butchered. Face swollen, mutated, blistered.

I can hardly bear to look.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s better this way. It’s over.”

But I’m choking as I watch him.

Eyes flutter closed.

Chest ceases moving.

Please, it can’t end like this.

I’ve got you brother

I’ve found you now

and I’ll hold you forever till they come to take me too.

I Found You

I’m running. Running hard.

Every moment I expect a bullet in my back

I need a weapon

I need water

Every breath is a cloud of ash inside my mouth.

There’s a body on the ground

large green eyes flickering out

He has a weapon. I take it

Keep running.

Now another, a faceless runs toward me.

I lift the gun, I’ll kill him here and now.

The bullet flies, it strikes, he falls.

But as I pass I see his mask is off

His face is scared, and some of it’s gone.

But I’d know it anywhere.

My brother.

The Last Bullet

Bullets spew like locusts.

I duck to reload.

Dead slump down behind me.

I shoot everything I’ve got, save one last bullet meant for me.

“God save us.”

Silence falls.

It’s time.

I put the gun against my head.

But screams of desperation come shrieking through the dark.

Who’s their victim this time?

My friend, my comrade, the last of my platoon.

They’ve doused him, he’s soaking, and the torch is coming closer.

He struggles, but he’s tied.

I cannot watch him burn.

So I do the best thing I can think of

I put my bullet through his head

Lost

Hold up the compass and watch it spin

East to West and back again

Tell them once more that we can’t win

We’re lost, oh foolish children of men

Tonight we huddle underground

Hiding ourselves in this self dug grave

Hoping and praying we won’t be found

But we will, it takes my all to keep us brave

Only a dozen of them have survived

Two soldiers cannot save them all

And now the faceless have arrived

To burn the ground and make us fall

And in my stomach is this burning dread  

For tomorrow shall likely find me dead

An Oftentimes Fool

If there was grass anymore it would be soft here.

If there was a sun anymore it would be golden silk on the horizon.

If there was life anymore there would be fireflies dancing like tiny fallen stars.

So many days wasted banking on the empty promise of tomorrow.

Oftentimes I would let the day die and the moon rise unnoticed as I toiled at something unimportant.

“Not today, brother”, I’d say. Maybe tomorrow, next weekend, another day. 

Well, tomorrow’s come, and where are you?

Dead.

And the follies of the good old days are a knife inside my chest.