The Vultures Dance.

The Vultures Dance.

A Poem by Paul Bell


Timelike and the decaying bodies piled high cease to amuse the vultures now


Single shots give the rebels confidence


They attack in force


Heavy machine gun fire from the west toss bodies into the air like ragdolls


Textbook


Vultures  tearing at eyes of the dead and dying


Bullets to precious for mercy


The night brings natures other cleaners


Muffled scream heightens the reactions as night vision survey death in technicolour


The ponderous wait continues


Stroking metal like some sex provoking act


Followed only by counting lives little savers, bullets of love


The vultures dance impatiently


The stroking intensifies


Hairs stand erect as movement waves majestically towards its final objective


A sudden calm unfolds


Nature watches in awe as love is unleashed in her garden for the final time


The call to bayonets now takes man down to his lowest form of savagery  


Eyes now meet, screaming death the ferocious last act of  men past the point of madness


Blood flows as metal slices through skin and bone, swaying death the final frenzy as screams die the day's end


Men cry as they survey the last atrocity of human barbarity


Battle ended, vultures marvel feasting on the final meal


Battle-hardened men massacre memories  leaving Celebrations a distant Country as blood red hands refuse to wash


© 2017 Paul Bell



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Reviews

What fierce raw description. Incredibly well depicted, and made me think of the lyrics 'war is stupid, people stupid.' But at least the vultures were happy!

Posted 12 Months Ago


Paul Bell

12 Months Ago

I suppose that's natures payback.
Your imagery doesn't paint a pretty picture reminds me of those African countries fighting extremists. nice writing though.

Posted 1 Year Ago


Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

Yeah this has to be the rawest form of war.
Powerful and gruesome. Man can indeed stoop so low.
Described so truly
"Battle-hardened men massacre memories leaving Celebrations a distant Country as blood red hands refuse to wash"



Posted 1 Year Ago


Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

Are we back writing, Shabeeh. Its been awhile.
Shabeeh Haider

1 Year Ago

Yes, Paul. I am back
Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

Great to see you.
Raw and honest....you paint the gruesome scene with your words. This is the birthplace of PTSD. Stunning imagery. Lydi**

Posted 1 Year Ago


Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

Thanks Lydia. Hope things are back to normal.
Jee-zus, Paul. Stark, unflinching and unapologetic for the real-ness. I thought I was a tell-it, get over it...or not kinda broad, but this is real s**t. *bowing and backing away slowly*

Posted 1 Year Ago


Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

Sorry Carol. Did this get inside your head.
Need to write a funny one now, to bring you back.
Carol Cashes

1 Year Ago

Didn't so much "get inside my head" - no room at the inn, so to speak - but after my 3 week hiatus w.. read more
Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

Hope the sun is shining for you now. Liked your reports.
Paul this was powerful in narration. Vivid images of the carnage, bring on very emotions. Man's beastly side brought out in totality. Appreciated so much!

Posted 1 Year Ago


Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

Thanks DIVYA. Life in its barest form.
DIVYA

1 Year Ago

This poem is different from your usual style.

You are welcome Paul...
Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

I know, need to get back to humour quick.
Strong, powerful and honest words shared.
"Men cry as they survey the last atrocity of human barbarity
Battle ended, vultures marvel feasting on the final meal
Battle-hardened men massacre memories leaving Celebrations a distant Country as blood red hands refuse to wash"
The above lines. Realistic of life and war. A sad world where we know only blood and death. Thank you Paul for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

Posted 1 Year Ago


Paul Bell

1 Year Ago

Thanks, Coyote. Like the song. War, what it is good for.
Coyote Poetry

1 Year Ago

You are right and you are welcome.

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Added on October 7, 2017
Last Updated on October 7, 2017

Author

Paul Bell
Paul Bell

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I like poetry and stories that tell me something. Sometimes the shortest poems hit the hardest. If I post something serious, don't worry, a funny poem will follow. Don't hesitate to tell me if my po.. more..

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