Poem: Dappled Shadows of Why -- War Stories!

[ Show ]

Support VoyForums

[ Shrink ]

VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

Wed, April 24 2024, 21:13:55 [ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: [1], 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: Sun, May 29 2011, 12:27:02
Author: Don Poss
Author Host/IP: cpe-24-24-239-102.socal.res.rr.com / 24.24.239.102
Subject: Poem: Dappled Shadows of Why

Gents & ladies:

A Memorial Day poem. A little dark, but still very true to many:

Dappled Shadows of Why
Don Poss, Copyright � 2011
Memorial Day

�The Why�, is like scurrying bruised clouds of combat whose dappled shadows in flight exploit valleys and folds of earth, embracing every blade of grass � every rock � every thing.

A frightful shadow that takes but does not give, and wounds a man (did you hear his cry?) or slays another (utterly � silently),
and you turn to laugh with him at the silver-lining having randomly skirted bunkers, divided fighting-holes and drawn so near �
startled to find him slain and you happily (too happily) alive.

Why me? Why am I still here? Why did this mortar arc its way merrily-twisting hither, swirling upon the axis of life, nudged left, right, up or down ever so gently by winds-aloft �
then tugged by gravities� indifferent mass, flicked by fickled fingers of toying gods � only to slash the earth with shrapnel gleefully flying yet heartless as to the where, what,
or even if it smites flesh. Yet, he is dead ... the sandbags still bleeding rivulets of indifferent soil � and dappled shadows of �Why�
caring not this night you will tread the first-step of decades seeking the answer to �Why�.

Clouds passed again, often and without prediction, favoritism or fate, playing games of inequality and chance, fully shorn of joy or sadness, blasphemous and devoid of all emotion while
skipping a tuneless cleansing-purging dance � or not.

I saw the inviolate pattern forming �

They died � I didn�t.
They were wounded � I wasn�t.
They have Agent Orange � I don�t.
They are broken � I am not.
They are resolute in manly strength � I try to be.
They are coping � as am I, mostly.
They do not sleep the sleep of innocence � nor do I.

I�m all used up from the Why;
dappled shadows have passed me by.

Don Poss

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

[ Login ] Create Account Not required to post.
Post a public reply to this message | Go post a new public message
* HTML allowed in marked fields.
Post Password:
Keep password cookie for 24 hours

Message subject (required):

Name (Registered users only):

Expression ^{(Optional mood/title along with your name) Examples: (happy, sad, The Joyful, etc.) help)}

E-mail address (required):

Type your message here:
>Gents & ladies: > >A Memorial Day poem. A little dark, but still very >true to many: > >Dappled Shadows of Why >Don Poss, Copyright � 2011 >Memorial Day > >�The Why�, is like scurrying bruised clouds of combat >whose dappled shadows in flight exploit valleys and >folds of earth, embracing every blade of grass � every >rock � every thing. > >A frightful shadow that takes but does not give, and >wounds a man (did you hear his cry?) or slays another >(utterly � silently), >and you turn to laugh with him at the silver-lining >having randomly skirted bunkers, divided >fighting-holes and drawn so near � >startled to find him slain and you happily (too >happily) alive. > >Why me? Why am I still here? Why did this mortar arc >its way merrily-twisting hither, swirling upon the >axis of life, nudged left, right, up or down ever so >gently by winds-aloft � >then tugged by gravities� indifferent mass, flicked by >fickled fingers of toying gods � only to slash the >earth with shrapnel gleefully flying yet heartless as >to the where, what, >or even if it smites flesh. Yet, he is dead ... the >sandbags still bleeding rivulets of indifferent soil � >and dappled shadows of �Why� >caring not this night you will tread the first-step of >decades seeking the answer to �Why�. > >Clouds passed again, often and without prediction, >favoritism or fate, playing games of inequality and >chance, fully shorn of joy or sadness, blasphemous and >devoid of all emotion while >skipping a tuneless cleansing-purging dance � or not. > >I saw the inviolate pattern forming � > >They died � I didn�t. >They were wounded � I wasn�t. >They have Agent Orange � I don�t. >They are broken � I am not. >They are resolute in manly strength � I try to be. >They are coping � as am I, mostly. >They do not sleep the sleep of innocence � nor do I. > >I�m all used up from the Why; >dappled shadows have passed me by. > >Don Poss
Choose Message Icon: [ View Emoticons ]

Notice: Copies of your message may remain on this and other systems on internet. Please be respectful.

[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums^(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.