Wild Flowers♥

Welcome to my Blog. You will find poetry here. All poems are my original work unless otherwise indicated. Enjoy! Why Wild Flowers? Because... "When a wild flower grows it picks its space." -- Sheryl Crow, and: "Nobody knows a wild flower still grows by the side of the road." -- Bon Jovi

Saturday, December 02, 2006

In Baghdad

This poem is in honor of Sgt. James D. Priestap, a soldier from Hardwood, MI (Dickinson County) who was killed in Iraq.

In Baghdad

US military deaths hit
as of Tuesday Nov. 28, 2006

and yours among them
on Thanksgiving day, Jim
killed by a sniper at checkpoint 17
distributing food and water
to Iraqi police
giving candy to children

securing Baghdad
baga data: God given
a sheep enclosure
with blast walls and barbed wire,

and you in body armor
the bullet hit your shoulder
then your heart.

Who will hang the drywall in Hardwood,
work the night shift,
be husband and father, hero?

Is war still about the land,
the oil, race, and religion,
and changing the map of the world?

Your platoon divided
the ammo from your weapon.


Blogger Anna said...

I like this one. Thanks for speaking up.

6:08 PM  
Blogger Christopher T. George said...

Hi Kathy

A fine poem well capturing the sadness and poignancy of this soldier's death. Good work, Kathy.


2:17 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Whether evil or a savior
Or both
I cannot know
The men came back and said
"He was a hero"
and others said
He was a cog in a killer robot
Did he pose in photos?
He cannot have given candy to every kid
But could have killed them all with one A-bomb.
What a shame,
I never met them.
I never met him.
Who am I to know?

11:40 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for the invite to your blog .I will stop in from time to time. I like this piece. War, could we just settle over a game of chess. The only serious injury Ive ever seen over a game was a broken finger. War. I never tried writing about that, I may try. Thanks again for your help and inspiration.
caine mutiny

9:04 PM  
Blogger Jim Doss said...

Hi Kathy,

The poem works well because you have taken a statistic and made it personal, put a face and a life around this tragedy.


11:30 AM  
Blogger Leko said...

I liked it alot, especially the line about the drywall and Hardwood. It really got accross the feeling of things left unfinnished and unresolved. Keep it up!

11:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh my, how daft mankind is.
For selfish gain and fear, we let great men die in the name and flag of Democracy.

When will we learn the art of talking?

Anonymous Andy:)

10:47 AM  
Blogger ham said...

Kathy, my continuing education evidently inspires. Your poem made me recall a similar piece so, from my archives, here's another homage.


The bombs in Baghdad
describe the drama
in catastrophic crimson
reducing realm and reason
into riffraff

It emanated from an essence
of monumental mourning
for loves lost
unequaled by the unworthiness
of suicidal sacrilege

The world worries
and wrestles with a wand
too inutile to intervene
as beauty and brains

While gods grip their hold
on heaven
and bless their beasts
with crying children
growing gangrene.

I notice your proper use of "ing" and ask if this piece passes muster. Way into the Wild, perhaps?
Thank you.

2:22 AM  

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