Whirlwind

 

“Ezekiel’s Whirlwind” by Patricia Kimsey Bollinger

 

the wind and the whirlwind
the sand and the sandstorm
blow through my spaces
the places inside where I
fought all the good fights of
autoimmune heart and mind
vice and virtue engaged in
their life and death struggles
to clinch final judgment

empty chambers now sapped
howling voids all the fight
long gone out of me never
achieving conclusion just
wartorn and weary arenas
where standards of sinners and
saints snap like windsocks
in gales of abandonment death
when it comes mere formality

 

 

From my book Bullets from Bones

Devil’s Den

“Vulture in Flight” by Wingsdomain

 

riding thermals
circling summer-hot stones
all the pretty vultures

 

 

From my books Bullets from Bones and Riverthink

Shot Heard Round the World

“Concord Bridge” by Don Troiani

 

Concord bridge heard the noise
sent it over the farms and fields
hungry for news of the future
came back on the echo of bold
revolution to ring iron pitchfork
tines rattled barn doors on their
West Midlands hinges gave
bellicose voice to an uneasy urge
for secession these musketry
militants welcoming fire from
kingsmen afflicted with red-coated
pride all their high Georgian
confidence hardly aware of what
destiny held behind dry stone
laid walls hemming plots of
exquisitely personal liberty

 

 

From my book Bullets from Bones

Barbican

“Castle Gate” by Jonathan Dufresne

a well-masoned conscience

a guard-towered gate

set in ethical stones

first defense against

hostile invasion

of social perimeters

holding back sieges

aggressions of civic iniquity

emanate hotly from

crazed seething hordes

shapeless creatures with

dominant left or right claws

in the thrall of debased

sightless ideologues

philosophically armed

shooting meaningless speeches

ballistic dull words

fired fervid haphazard

from shadowlands hidden

beyond the good pale

every mind for itself

in the ultimate battle of wits

*  * *

“Ideologies have no heart of their own. They’re the whores and angels of our striving selves.” – John le Carré

The Somme

“Trenches” by Otto Dix

(Originally posted here February 2014)
 

coarse soliloquies silently
scraped at those thoughts
still alive in the trenches
regimental regalia lay muted
by phosgene and field guns
a million bones melted
down into the farmlands
of barbed wire watershed
wounded by tank treads
and howitzer wheels leaving
permanent scars and
perpetual echoes of thunder
in dreams of a continent
destined for more cataclysmic
ordeals modern legacies
fruiting political genes since
first seeded by clans in the
bronze age who realized
new tactical purpose
for murderous blades

Monte Cassino

“Monte Cassino One Month After the Battle” by Feliks Kay-Krzewinski

four times blood of battle
gave siege to the hill
where blessings of Benedict
died inside bombs
holy bones of the stones
broke from watchtower
duties to shepherd the world
back to occupied Rome
peace rolling on tank treads
with oversized guns

Warrior

“The Weatherman” by Max Ernst

 

fighting for what
in the end
seems so useless
what good is it
living
this living
in warfare
against my own body
what point is there
climbing through pain
reaching
only more pain
why assault him
with poison
intending
to strangle this foe
who won’t die
who keeps coming
and coming
attacking
the quiet
as well as the noise
under merciless
moons and white
pitiless suns
no avail of relief
to be drawn
from the indifferent
movements
by hands of
the clock

I can thrash him
with words
on a page
give him battleax
blows with the
blade of a pen
that at least
give some sense
of revenge
intellectual payback
without any
victory
merely the
honor of warriors
giving
as good as they get
with the last
and the least
of my arsenal
verse
bent and tortured
by siege
that a decade ago
broke through doors
of the gunroom
that once armed
my mind

Basilisk

“Basilisk” by Xhiara

 

fling the wind onto wheels of entropy
dodging the gaze of reptilian breath upon
honesty oiling your fleshy machine
kill the monster in tents of Chautauqua
where allies will cheer your intemperance
tossing their knives at your biblical feet
contributions to save a great nation
from evil incarnate whose scaly skin
secrets you flay laying open corruptions
to order of battle for commonweal trust
one dead serpent is worth all the blood

Whirlwind

“Ezekial’s Whirlwind” by Patricia Kimsey Bollinger

 

the wind and the whirlwind
the sand and the sandstorm
blow through my spaces
the places inside where I
fought all the good fights of
autoimmune heart and mind
vice and virtue engaged in
their life and death struggles
to clinch final judgment

empty chambers now sapped
howling voids all the fight
long gone out of me never
achieving conclusion just
wartorn and weary arenas
where standards of sinners and
saints snap like windsocks
in gales of abandonment death
when it comes mere formality

Devil’s Den

Devil’s Den Battlesite – Gettysburg PA

 

riding thermals
circling summer-hot stones
all the pretty vultures