Omaha

A tale of two soldiers.

Dear Mother.
Dear Father.
I won’t be coming home.

They trained me.
As fodder.
Brine soaks me to the bone.

My rifle.
It’s shaking.
Though I am shaking worse.

Men spewing.
Like faucets.
Condemned to floating hearse.

The door drops.
A head pops.
Close eyes and dive for shore.

Dear Mother.
Dear Father.
In death I shake no more.

-

Dear Mother.
Dear Father.
In lord’s name I repent.

I lay upon
Dark cliff-face.
Brass shells; seven spent.

Their eyes are
pulsating.
I rend one through and through.

Still men dive.
Precious lives.
Eight now line death's queue.

Eject it.
Reload it.
Prepare to shoot once more.

Dear Mother.
Dear Father.
In death they shake no more.

Author's Note

I read a poem about Omaha, and figured that through all the poems I've read, I've never actually heard of the men who lined the cliffside. I'm no fan of bias, so I figured this would be a treat.

Please enjoy!

Reviews

[nigrum homonculus]

well done in capturing the fear of a man about to storm the omaha beach. your flow is excellent. very well written. i enjoyed it a lot.

[Luisa]

I made an account just to review this! Well, also to check out the site, but mostly to review this.

This is my favorite poem out of all the ones you've written so far. The periods used after most lines make it choppy and piecemeal, but that's perfect for the subject matter - a beautiful, flowing style would have been totally wrong for this piece.

I love that the two characters have distinctly different tones, and yet they both convey the tragedy of war. Writing from two perspectives was exactly what this subject matter demanded and you demonstrated the parallel horrors of death and killing. Even though one soldier survived and one did not, nobody was victorious in this piece. There's no glorification of violence, but of course, I wouldn't expect anything less from you.

Really excellent stuff, Ricky. You've grown tremendously as a poet in a very short time.