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Carolyn Baxter poet

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War in The Land of the White Hot Sun
by Carolyn Baxter poet

Saturday, March 24, 2007
Rated "G" by the Author.
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           >> View all 37

I Lost one friend and know two others still in Iraq,both with kids under 4 yera old. Since the Editor of Home Planet News is Publishing it in The April Issue,and really Liked it. I edited it and Put a few more images in .Usually after the second Draft,I am satified,But this Poem keept haunting me and annoying me like i'd left a few things out.So I had to dig deeper and make peace with it.


WAR In The Land of The White Hot Sun


Mama donít you Recognize me ?

its your Son..

I went to the land of Sand and White Sun

Uniform on my Back

M16 Gun...



A Land I knew no one

Much different

When I was injured in 9 - 1 - 1



Explosions deception

24/7.



They cut out my left eye

When I longer wanted to kill babyís

Hearing them cry

because their mommy died

Stepping on tiny bodyís crunch on the roadside.



bloody broken bones

ripped raw ragged

flesh flaming flag of Death

naked fingers reached for the sky

wind

waving


won

Last Goodbye

As I drove by.


They cut out my right eye

when I no longer wanted to see


 colors Red white an Blue

 But  Humanity's  Hue 

 Harmony

 reflecting peace.

I was not allowed to see or Dream

Donít be ashamed of me

Because I no longer believe

The things they asked me to do to Survive

To stay alive


Death all around me

So I no Longer needed my eyes

no more water came out

no longer could I cry.

I donít know If youíll

Ever see me again

Or I'll ever hear dads Voice say ííhey kid hi ya been?

Iíd give anything to hear him say that

Instead of Things insisted

when I enlisted...


Weapons of mass Destruction

Lives Traded For Death

My Honest Trusting.

I saw nothing...


They cut off my Hands Because I wanted to carry food

Not Guns

They left me to die in the white Hot sun..



When I greeted a brother

A salaam lakum

They cut out my Tongue

 They Left me to die in the white Hot Sun

 Then the Bullet ripped through my skull



From the Snipers Gun

I wasnít The only one

who died on the Hill with others

I realized

were all one

even the Sand Choked when The blood started to run.



They shipped me back in this body bag

with Dead Honorís Cover

the American Flag.
.
Days to years

young men

to corpses years dragged.

I knew it wasnít going to get any better.....

Just know I love you mama

thatís why I wrote this letter.





 

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Reviewed by Art Sun 3/24/2007
The trajedies of war place the sad emotions once one is back from foreign soil, and then the real war begins, the one where tears and pain are shed through families as they must accept and struggle with the same trajedies of their own....

A nice work filled with the emotions of loss...

.....Art sun...



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