Poem of the Week

November 10, 2011 #659

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Veterans Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Vast fields of crosses, all the same,
Each embellished with a name.
This is what your love had sought!
Embrace the child become a thought,
Reduced to regimented loss,
A name screwed on a plain, white cross!
Nor can you feel what you must feel
Since what is real cannot be real.
Devour the moment, make it yours,
As life continues on all fours,
Yearning, begging at closed doors.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

November 11, 2010 #607
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is a Veterans Day poem.
 
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." 
 
You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.
 
Yours,
 
Nick Gordon
 
Victories are never victories.
Every battle waged is a defeat.
The end contains the seeds of the repeat.
Even heroes will take liberties.
Remember this, then, when you go to war:
Although the cause be just, the means is not.
None can write in blood without a blot
Seeping back beneath the bedroom door.
Death cries for vengeance; destruction for destruction.
A battle plan is always a reduction:
You kill your foe yet murder so much more.
 
© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

November 5, 2009 #554

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Veterans Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." You can also cast a vote for it to boost its popularity on Yahoo Buzz.

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Very soon I'll hear the victims' screams,
Even in the midst of my content,
The end not quite enough to quell the means,
Each nightmare not exactly what I meant.
Recruited in a time of peace, I went
Abroad to serve more adolescent dreams,
Not unaware, of course, I might be sent
Someday to where the widow wails and keens.
Dumb ignorance! For now I must repent
Aberrations no regret redeems,
Yet hounding me like dogs on mayhem bent.

© by Nicholas Gordon