War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

Soldier's Art


Cpl. S. Grove, Charlie Coy., artist

there are poets in the FOBS
and singers
in the dust and sweat,
merciless desert of Ex.,
of theatre, Afghanistan;

and artists in LAVs,
the grimy palette of leaguers,
bright sparking comms, gun metal;

I know someone
who every day
struggles to remember
how to hold a pencil to paper,
unchoke a voice
gagging on war’s piano wire;

he digs himself out
from trenches of boredom,
fear, anger, tedious repetition,
memory, injury, sleeplessness,
duty, wanting to do his best,
his job,
clutches pencil
between forefinger and thumb
defies death with skulls, crossbones,
designs every fucking tattoo
for every arm in the Coy.,
his hunger on paper, flesh or voice,
the instrument, any instrument
reminds him, us,
“I am still here”.


1 Comment (Closed)

Hebridean

OK ‘S’: That’s Charlie. Where’s his pal Mike?!
Angry poem; but powerful for it.

Jul 26 2009 · 13:51

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The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled Soldier's Art. It was posted here on July 24, 2009.

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