deepundergroundpoetry.com
Helicopter Blades
Helicopter Blades
Monday -
Time to go home when we hear helicopter blades
Time to tell my wife important things I ought to say
I'm ready for my family, the soft parades
Frosted lemonades and trees with lots of shade
Home cooked meals, my favorite, Alfredo pasta made
But more importantly, no more lost brigades
Lands fraught with grey melancholy can be tossed away
Tuesday -
A bullet came within inches, as if it crossed to say
Won't be long til the last of your luck is exhausted, kay?
Snapped me from hopeful musings of what I sought today
Why this spot? Invade men who left prisoners chopped and flayed
Sitting here endless hours, hiding in a plot we laid
I was not afraid, but now....I realized what that shot portrayed
Death, real and present, what if it had been a tossed grenade?
That lonely option bade a simple stop of days
I scrunch tightly, compact, hoping I don't have my top displayed
They're on the way! I wait for helicopter blades
Wednesday -
Finally, the tell-tale sign we had gotten saved
Heard the rotor spinning, take us from this rotten phase!
Thought we had been lost in this forgotten maze
Take my head out of cover and in caution gaze......
But the sights revealed put me in an awesome daze
Life is rarely what you want and it often plays
Cards that you'd never imagine are common place
The helicopter.......reflected foreign colors, a strong disgrace
Opened fire on us, even things in the margin razed
The entire dreary landscape was engulfed, glossed with blaze
Nowhere to go, in minutes, my whole squadron slay'd
My shot shotgun traced, they aimed at me and I caught a case
Wednesday Night -
They come to scavenge and shoot our most damaged of troops
Organize and discuss how to manage the loot
I'm bleeding, drastically needing medical support
These people are brutal, torturous, been said to kill for sport
I scrawl a final note before this vital stroke
Put a bullet in my eyes, go up in spiral smoke
Wait.
I hear it.....but......I don't trust those helicopter blades
I'd rather take chance descending into softer fades
Just hope our Intel and messages reach the colonel
Because these are the last words that will breach my journal
Monday -
Time to go home when we hear helicopter blades
Time to tell my wife important things I ought to say
I'm ready for my family, the soft parades
Frosted lemonades and trees with lots of shade
Home cooked meals, my favorite, Alfredo pasta made
But more importantly, no more lost brigades
Lands fraught with grey melancholy can be tossed away
Tuesday -
A bullet came within inches, as if it crossed to say
Won't be long til the last of your luck is exhausted, kay?
Snapped me from hopeful musings of what I sought today
Why this spot? Invade men who left prisoners chopped and flayed
Sitting here endless hours, hiding in a plot we laid
I was not afraid, but now....I realized what that shot portrayed
Death, real and present, what if it had been a tossed grenade?
That lonely option bade a simple stop of days
I scrunch tightly, compact, hoping I don't have my top displayed
They're on the way! I wait for helicopter blades
Wednesday -
Finally, the tell-tale sign we had gotten saved
Heard the rotor spinning, take us from this rotten phase!
Thought we had been lost in this forgotten maze
Take my head out of cover and in caution gaze......
But the sights revealed put me in an awesome daze
Life is rarely what you want and it often plays
Cards that you'd never imagine are common place
The helicopter.......reflected foreign colors, a strong disgrace
Opened fire on us, even things in the margin razed
The entire dreary landscape was engulfed, glossed with blaze
Nowhere to go, in minutes, my whole squadron slay'd
My shot shotgun traced, they aimed at me and I caught a case
Wednesday Night -
They come to scavenge and shoot our most damaged of troops
Organize and discuss how to manage the loot
I'm bleeding, drastically needing medical support
These people are brutal, torturous, been said to kill for sport
I scrawl a final note before this vital stroke
Put a bullet in my eyes, go up in spiral smoke
Wait.
I hear it.....but......I don't trust those helicopter blades
I'd rather take chance descending into softer fades
Just hope our Intel and messages reach the colonel
Because these are the last words that will breach my journal
Published 3rd Aug 2012
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3rd Aug 2012 6:30am
This piece has a personal feel that I really like. The spoken word version is fantastic, you put the emphases where they're needed. Most of the rhymes don't feel forced, which is great. My only thought is that maybe the line "They come to scavenge and shoot our most damaged of troops" should more reflect the fact that they're cleaning up the leftovers they missed in the first firefight, maybe something to the effect of, "They come to scavenge and shoot the last holdouts of troops" or "They come to scavenge and shoot the scattered wounded troops". A minor nit to pick though in an otherwise compelling piece.
3rd Aug 2012 7:49am
Looking now, Twas some forced rhyming for sure. Thanks for the feedback. I really appreciate it, not a lot of people give constructive criticism.
