The Other Veteran
The Other Veteran
Alone she sits midst the chaotic room.
Bewildered by the ancient turmoil swirling like a tornado in her heart and in her head.
Crying silently and tearlessly she recalls days long gone by.
Days that she hoped were becoming distant memories; the embers of which on this day, rise up to scorch her aching heart, faded but never extinguished they flicker to flame now as they are fanned by events and people who are forcing her to remember what she had chosen to forget.
Engulfed by a wave of frustration she longs to escape what feels to be a prison of unwanted and unsolicited compassion.
Frustrated by the blessed irony of the need of others to remember encroaching on the need for some to forget.
Grief just simply Grief…
How many more times must man seek to destroy himself?
Indignation wrestles its way into her thoughts.
“Join me”, Anger spits out gruffly to Indignation.
“Let’s gang up on Grief and bury him again”.
“Keep out of it”, interjects Grief pleadingly, “this is my day and my turn! Finally, please, let me be heard and let me be purged”.
Memories cascade through her, the smouldering embers now a raging inferno.
Nausea overcomes her as she begins to allow her heart to open to things long denied.
Orders obeyed... Orders questioned...Orders forgotten...
Powerful emotions permeate her fragile psyche threatening to crush her delicate frame.
Questions of “why?” and “ why not?” fight for hierarchy in her brain.
Restless, she tries to pull herself back to the present.
“Senseless and stupid” - what else can she say about war?
Trembling, she looks around for the familiar, seeking solace for her aching soul.
Valiantly Grief finally surrenders and gives way to Peace - at least in this moment.
War! What is it for? What is the point? Is it worth the waste and destruction of so many lives from young to old?
Xenophobia - alive and well - both then and now.
Zero just simply Zero....
THE ‘WHY?’ OF THE POEM
I wrote this poem in October 2016, roughly 10 years after my original Veteran poem. I was on an extended medical leave from my employment and was slowly coming to terms with the reality that I would be unable to return to my career in Eldercare. This was indeed challenging and my work was for me more of a ‘calling’ than a job. At the same time there was a bittersweet irony as I was drawn back again to my love of writing and writing poetry in particular.
I was at a writing workshop and the process we were asked to follow was to listen to a guided meditation after which we were given a writing ‘prompt’ and a set time to write whatever came to mind…The ‘prompt’ in this case was….
•Each line must begin with a letter of the alphabet (ABC etc..)
•One line must exactly 26 words
•One line must have only 1 word
I thought that it was the most ridiculous prompt I had ever heard and my brain did not want to participate. However my soul did. I took a deep breath and what was released was something that had been hidden for years...
…In this case I was visualizing one of our female veterans, (there were so many amazing women with equally amazing stories). ‘She’ didn’t want to come to the Service - this was sometimes the case for both male and female Veterans - I believe it hurt too much…
