Friday, 19 July 2024

at war with a poem

at war with a poem


a poem is that phosphorus bomb

that burns right through your heart


a cluster bomb of words

one through every heart


a defoliant that lets you see

the wood from the trees that part


that bullet with your name on it

that hits the love above your heart


a poem is a path

through the minefield to your heart 

the razor wire blasted apart

the shell-hole ghosts risen hath


a war poem is a fist

clamped around the book that’s torn


read the last line again for me

tomorrow is another morn  

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