The Walls of Fire, a poem

 The Walls of Fire
By Mike Marcellino

The walls of fire
grow higher
higher,
pools of blood
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching -
rock cliffs and open fields,
Hornet’s Nest at Shiloh,
Devil’s Den, Gettysburg.

The walls of fire
grow higher
higher,
pools of blood
carnage,
bodies of brothers
touching -
sea to shining sea
lost in the Argonne forest
face down on beaches at Normandy,
frozen by the waters
of Chosin Reservoir.

The walls of fire
grow higher
higher,
pools of blood
carnage,
bodies of brothers
touching -
paddies, highlands
Nui Ba Dinh, the Black Virgin Mountain
Ashau Valley,
along the perimeter of Khe Sanh.

The walls of fire
grow higher,
higher
pools of blood,
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching -
empty deserts
filled with giant rising suns,
Fallujah rooftops,
unknown streets of Sidr City
barren mountains,
caves of Tora Bora.

The walls of fire
grow higher
higher
pools of blood,
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching.


The walls of fire copyright by Mike Marcellino 2009

What if, a poem

What if
by Mike Marcellino

What if
we carried plowshares,
not swords.

What if
we did good
without conditions,
expectations.

What if
we didn’t hate
didn’t participate,
traded love
for fear.

What if
we had
no excuses,
rationale
for carrying
rifles,
instead of hammers.

What if
Gandhi
Martin
Mohamed
Jesus
and Buddha
were here.
Would we
pass by.

What if
we all
had post
traumatic
stress
disorder
and
listened
to the CBC.

What if we
put our lives
on the line
for peace
before it
becomes
a war cliché.

What if
we all got
Purple Hearts.
Would we
award them to our children?

What if copyright Mike Marcellino 2009