The song of a war-worn soldier

[osho]

War worn
I am now in your lap
You are caressing me
My mind, however vacillates
This love or that war
Both nibble at me
Both expect my participation
In different settings
Both want me to submerge
And get lost in their realities
Delusional I go round and round like Ulysses
Eternally painfully
I stamp against the earth
When my space that is my choice is jeopardized
Heroic anecdotes, romantic tales
National chronicles infringe on my space.
I live outgrown
When circumstances’ overgrowth ripples
Stage is averse to life theater
War is inevitable
Even love cannot forgo preclusion
Her tears dribble and I smell hot blood
Outside is a war of lords fighting for space
Inside is an episode of romance
Apace I try to hide my face in her warm palm
To forget the bloody war for a while
But the words that attempt to soothe me
Ring with the cannons outside the window
There is no demarcation between night and day
Or love and war

[Jerrybaldy]

Vaccilates jarred when I hit it. There is merit in your writing but it alienates me in its attempt to box above its weight and find brevity. It has a biblical feel where I am looking for some emotion, some sign of the soldiers humanity, some detail that captures the imagination. Just my thoughts osho. I talk from no high place and I'm no critic.

[osho]

Thank you for your comment and or at least for reading the poem. This indeed will immensely inspire me. Of course into thinking about more poems. Of course I am poor at the technicality part and though ideas crop up inside me but the problem is to find an English equivalent. I do not think there is any dearth of the topics we can write about and the problem is with finding a suitable linguistic dimension. I find my poems and only English poems often poorly readable notwithstanding the fact I have to write in it since with this I can come across a bigger domain. A poet never chooses to be neglected and even saber criticisms can prove recipes.