Returning from the war I locked away my gun
put away my uniform and that part of me
I was already damaged and not quite whole
thrown back into the world with bleak uncertainty
doubt funnels through my brain like a sieve
while I sit on a slab of ebbing confusing emotions
a large oscillating wave of self-doubt pressing against me
it never leaves me even when I pretend to sleep
I feel it’s weight upon me even now as I try to speak
a cell-block encasing my heart even though I try to break free
I ask my maker every day, what will become of me?
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
The prompt was weapon and I could have added it to the poem but this (fantasy) soldier is a weapon himself, taught to both use and become a weapon. Once home, our soldiers find it hard to turn off these learned behaviors and stop the bad memories from returning home with them.
Deactivate-remove from active duty in the military.
I used the animated GIF to write my poem and found it during a Google image search.
Written with my friends at Poets United.
Performed live for a hungry crowd || poetry spoken, read aloud
written words turned into sound || voices raised in prose astound
rhymes and stories rein sublime || my heart is beating overtime
I struggle to bring my muse alive || by spoken words that I provide.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2014
photograph/animation represents the spotlight on stage © Rebecca Sanchez, San Francisco Bay Trail
I wrote this about my experience reciting poems years ago at a short-lived medical marijuana club in San Francisco. It was a huge 3 story building on Market Street right downtown. The guy running the club was running for mayor at the time.
The bottom floor was for intake with a paraphernalia shop, the second edibles, and the top floor was for buying, lounging and smoking pot. Alcohol was not allowed or tolerated.
Anyone could perform on the stage. I was lucky to spend some time there soaking up the atmosphere with some friends and we all performed. Most-played music but I read a few of my poems. It was terrifying, I’m not fond of the sound of my voice.
Pot became legal here Jan, 1st and there’s talk of clubs opening in SF based on this historical pot club.
Written and shared in 2014 (hence, the prior comments) and reworked in 2018 to link with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub while using caesuras (||) in poetry. Hope I understood this prompt.
The reading is new at Bjorn’s invitation although I’m still unconfortable and out of practice. It took 3 tries just to get here. ~nervous laughter~