Image provided by: Clackamas Community College; Oregon City, OR
About The print. (Oregon City, Oregon) 1977-1989 | View Entire Issue (June 3, 1987)
Soldier of Irony’s Fortune” Weapons of destruction rattle death's leer embodying the night- unabashedly broadcasting their presence admidst negation of light. With this, a reminder of their temporarily docile state holding thunder at bay and lightning to the day As a new day uncloaks... so the fury smoulders; melting to ashes.... all passions born of war Partiotism dissipâtes with the battlefield smoke Only the God of silence gradiloquently spoke Two birds fly overhead Unraveling war's puzzle is the soldier's greatest aspiration- though thought embedded in iron eeks so faintly helmet, webgear, rifle, and gas mask.... burden the body with surreal tangibility, while demands of military duty.... constrict the mind with blatant invisibility. For everthing in a soldier's world twists backward.... then is magnified tenfold Diesel's smell is unbiquitousi... permeating the air- with the fear of death riding tenaciously... on its dark flailing coattails There is no peace Each moment is a cycle engulfed by false stillness- immersed in illusion even more disturbing Quiescence is an eruption that has happened- or might just as well have. Even shadows seem quiet to the apprentice of truth.... truth being the square peg in this dark round abyss The uniform camouflaging the body... ■ is like macho clothing true strength All must appear ornately as it's supposed to have been; In this game play flesh and blood robots bonded with steel. Yet pain, discomfort, and hunger these automatons do feel. The war machine cranks a sprocket... ever-turning in their brains- with another turning opposite inside their guts. The two grind each other in a vice-like contriction;; their duel for supremacy is fear's internal combustion The foundationless concrete this stranglehold moulds is still solid ground keeping them from floating to where even stars aren't sound The skies and the heavens and the soul are one so is trickery, and love, and all thats mundane Yes, a soldiets free will is more destiny's than his own; and what time destiny gives him is but a heavy interest loan Images of home effervescing in his mind... plague the soldier's waking night and drudgery-filled day The sudden din of battle explodes, shattering reveries- quieting petty quarrels with its contumacious bawl Shiva's roar is omnipresent His destruction more apparent The wounded scream in agony... combining with bloodlust screams synergizing with ones of terror... into an unearthly cacophony rifles pop in unison- broken in their rhythm. Artillery fire deafens... spitting supersonic booms Machine guns fire rapidly... while flares light up the sky A man screams "Incoming!" O shells barrage the Earth- blowing ten men shrieking... \ to a Horrible death \ Its a hellish symphony only Kali-Goddess of bloodshed- could conduct Two canisters thud the ground... hissing like snakes "Gas!" screams a sergeant....... throwing his mask to his face ~ . Mask carriers are popping and unsnapping everywhere; Three men are lagging... their reactions too slow; Darkness hides their faces.... contorting for air; Each breath stokes a fire.J- of searing agony- mercilessly consuming. .. then vanquishing its flesh Art by Vernon Souders To the dove, the carnage witnessed is a tragic horror Genocide's sweeping sward held no quarter To the owl it's man'd debt to the law of recompense- a law inescapable and one he can't harder Most went to the grave owing countless payments in full for none will Yama, judge of the dead lull The end stops not here tho some wish it would we are soldiers more than once, more than many The corpses littering the fields toil not; but the souls who discarded these husks undoubtedly soon will All but one! When he walked and breathed he was shunned and maligned His demeanor was adventurous but humbly resigned No one really knew him or attempted to only their prejudice saw him... or attempted to Arrogance cannot hear quiet wisdom over its own boasting Men love mystery in things but not in other men They died with desires pregnant with wanting He died hearing music-magnificent and haunting Not only shall the meek inherit the earth... so shall the ravenous; the spoils of war are of this world also Scott Wyland
