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"Was it that bad?" They Ask of Me

Submitted by Pugilist on Mon, 2014-02-24 01:44

And as the last threads of the day
stream from my grasping hands and fray
across an eve of hopeless sighs
that withers and then crudely dies;
I'm filled with quiet resentment
that precursors my soft descent
into a worthless rage and then
I breathe my madness once again.

Some eyes have seen and some have not
horrors conveyed and horrors caught
and intertwined within my soul,
No diamond from this worthless coal,
will ever be forged bright or true
or laid to rest or e'er subdue
the paths within my fractured mind
I long to lose; I long to find.

I cannot tell this story straight;
this anger, fear; this love and hate,
that trickles through my shattered veins,
like summer fogs and winter rains,
makes mockery of their advice;
enrages me, to be precise,
that I ask how they'd look to me
as part of war's sad tragedy.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Structure wise this is AABB tetrameter with little regard for iamb or other style. This too is a thought experiment. I come from a military family though ligament issues and flat feet prevented me from ever following tradition so I do not pretend knowledge of what combat vets actually feel, I have just sat with folks and consoled them as best as I could as a friend. Some people do not like the military and that is fine. There are assholes in all aspects of society and if you desire the military never be deployed, you need to elect more competent leaders. Blaming the military for war is like blaming the miners for the lives lost in a cave in. Focus your anger someplace where it will do something positive and lend a should to these folks whose only hope is to not be so bloody broken in their own eyes.
Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

William Saint George

Mon, 2014-02-24 08:19

William Saint George's picture

I absolutely love the rhyme in this one, sir. It is so amazing I've read it more than once, and I may do a recording of it too.

I understood the message you left at the end. This is a wonderful little masterpiece.

.

No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job. - TS Eliot

http://www.wsgeorge.com/

Seren

Tue, 2014-02-25 09:27

Seren's picture

Bloody hell, there is something so different about your writing of late I have to comment on it, its like your channeling another part of you I haven't seen before, I am totally amazed there aren't more comments on this

I will gush and say this has to be one of your best poems, I LOVED it...

its a Great poem hun...but I promise to return tomorrow night and see if I cant make a suggestion or two, no promises though, its one of those poems I would be loath to change.

the whole poems a stand out but this is my favourite part

And as the last threads of the day
stream from my grasping hands and fray
across an eve of hopeless sighs
that withers and then crudely dies;
I'm filled with quiet resentment
that precursors my soft descent
into a worthless rage and then
I breathe my madness once again.

I have line envy...

love JC x

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Pugilist

Wed, 2014-02-26 15:00

Pugilist's picture
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Thank you for your kind comments.

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Jonathan Moore

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