Sta.sh
We fell upon a bed of roses,
upturned petals with maddening grief.
A battle we had won,
the war too,
But piled high to sun reaching heights,
laid our loved ones.
And we swore to forestall all petty desires
for conquest, to focus on family.
And build homes not graves
we hope to achieve.
But history is repetitive,
the sword always double edged.
And in trenches abroad
or closer to home.
We dig deep,
burrowers to escape bombs.
Because this is war, baby,
it'll burn us all.
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*explodes*
Having said that, I can hear the echoes of Vietnam War era music in it. It's almost as though you have two poems that somehow mingled - one in the vein of Wilfred Owen's WWI poetry, and the other something that could easily be spoken by Bob Dylan.
Your first stanza is probably the strongest, evoking both funeral flowers and blood in one compact image. The 'upturned petals' seem comforting, but, immediately followed by the image of the pile of corpses, they become disquieting. It recalls the notion of the Flanders poppies, and the old song, 'Where have all the flowers gone?', and provides a nice turn into the middle of the poem.
In the third stanza, the second line is jarring. As it stands, it's redundant. If you want to preserve the four-line stanza, I'd like to make a suggestion. Perhaps put a period after 'graves', and change the next line to 'We hoped to achieve'.
Originality is difficult to achieve in war poetry; you've deftly avoided the terrible cliches, and given us a rather elegantly balanced piece. For every moment of hope or relief, there is one of harshness or cynicism. The result is a lovely read.
I must admit, your talent with imagery and paraphrasing otherwise-common phrases into through-provoking lines has only grown with each new piece. It takes what would otherwise be a fairly over-done and unoriginal theme and transcends the boundaries of the ordinary to a realm where your own unique style has really blended subtly with otherwise-standard technique.
A major gripe, however, is the ending. It is a sombre, genuine and strongly moving poem before the end, and those two lines (especially the word "baby") cheapens it to make it seem like some sort of song, rather than a poem. It's not necessarily bad, not by a long stretch, but it doesn't quite fit with the rest of the poem.
Wonderful work as always, look forward to seeing more!
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